#Cognitive games for cats

[hsmagazine254]

Exploring Kenya With Your Pet: A Guide To Travelling Safely & Happily - H&S Pets Galore

Embark On Pawsome Adventures: Tips For Travelling With Your Furry Companion In Kenya Travelling with pets can be a rewarding experience, especially in a country as diverse and beautiful as Kenya. Whether you’re planning a safari or a city escape, bringing your furry friend along requires careful preparation. Here are some tips to ensure a safe and enjoyable journey for both you and your…

[bun-latte]

Sometimes i really wish there were more agere posts about littles who are like, 9-15 years old. :(

it only ever seems to all be things 0-6 years old, mostly focused on pre-school to MAYBE first grade age.

I think itd be nice to have more posts that focus on later school years, and about social/cognitive norms for those ages too.

[damienkarras73]

An essay on Furiosa, the politics of the Wasteland, Arthurian literature and realistic vs. formalistic CGI

Mad Max: Fury Road absolutely enraptured me when it came out nearly a decade ago, and I will cop to seeing it four times at the theatre. For me (and many others who saw the light of George Miller) it set new standards for action filmmaking, storytelling and worldbuilding, and I could pop in its Blu Ray at any time and never get tired of it. Perhaps not surprisingly, I was deeply apprehensive about the announced prequel for Fury Road's actual main character, Furiosa, even if Miller was still writing and directing. We didn't need backstory for Furiosa—hell, Fury Road is told in such a way that NOTHING in it requires explicit backstory. And since it focuses on the Yung Furiosa, it meant Charlize Theron couldn't return with another career-defining performance. Plus, look at all that CGI in the trailer, it can't be as good as Fury Road.

Turns out I was silly to doubt George Miller, M.D., A.O., writer and director of Babe: Pig in the City and Happy Feet One & Two.

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga is excellent, and I needn't have worried about it not being as good as Fury Road because it is not remotely trying to be Fury Road. Fury Road is a lean, mean machine with no fat on it, nothing extraneous, operating with constant forward momentum and only occasionally letting up to let you breathe a little; Furiosa is a classical epic, sprawling in scope, scale and structure, and more than happy to let the audience simmer in a quiet, almost painfully still moment. If its opening spoken word sequence by that Gandalf of the Wastes himself, the First History Man, didn't already clue you in, it unfolds like something out of myth, a tale told over and over again and whose possible embellishments are called attention to in the dialogue itself. Where Fury Road scratched the action nerd itch in my head like you wouldn't believe, Furiosa was the equivalent of Miller giving the undulating folds of my English major brain a deep tissue massage. That's great! I, for one, love when sequels/prequels endeavour to be fundamentally different movies from what they're succeeding/preceding, operating in different modes, formats and even genres, and more filmmakers should aim for it when building on an existing series.

This movie has been on my mind so much in the past week that I've ended up dedicating several cognitive processes to keeping track of all of the different ponderings it's spawned. Thankfully, Furiosa is divided into chapters (fun fact: putting chapter cards in your movie is a quick way to my heart), so it only seems fitting that I break up all of these cascading thoughts accordingly.

1. The Pole of Inaccessibility

Furiosa herself actually isn't the protagonist for the first chapter of her own movie, instead occupying the role of a (very crafty and resourceful) damsel in distress for those initial 30-40 minutes. The real hero of the opening act, which plays out like a game of cat and mouse, is Furiosa's mother Mary Jabassa, who rides out into the wasteland first on horseback and then astride a motorcycle to track down the band of raiders that has stolen away her daughter. Mary's brought to life by Miller and Nico Lathouris' economical writing and a magnetic performance by newcomer Charlee Fraser, who radiates so much screen presence in such relatively little time and with one of those instant "who is SHE??" faces. She doesn't have many lines, but who needs them when Fraser can convey volumes about Mary with just a flash of her eyes or the effortless way she swaps out one of her motorcycle's wheels for another. To be quite candid, I'm not sure of the last time I fell in love with a character so quickly.

You notice a neat aesthetic contrast between mother and daughter in retrospect: Mary Jabassa darts into the desert barefoot, clad in a simple yet elegant dress, her wolf cut immaculate, only briefly disguising herself with the ugly armour of a raider she just sniped, and when she attacks it's almost with grace, like some Greek goddess set loose in the post-apocalyptic Aussie outback with just her wits and a bolt-action rifle; we track Furiosa's growth over the years by how much of her initially conventional beauty she has shed, quite literally in one case (hair buzzed, severed arm augmented with a chunky mechanical prosthesis, smeared in grease and dirt from head to toe, growling her lines at a lower octave), and by how she loses her mother's graceful approach to movement and violence, eventually carrying herself like a blunt instrument. Yet I have zero doubt the former raised the latter, both angels of different feathers but with the same steel and resolve. Of fucking course this woman is Furiosa's mother, and in the short time we know her we quickly understand exactly why Furiosa has the drive and morals she does without needing to resort to didactic exposition.

Anyway, I was tearing up by the end of the first chapter. Great start!

2. Lessons from the Wasteland

Most movies—most stories, really—don't actually tell the entire narrative from A to Z. Perhaps the real meat of the thing is found from H to T, and A-G or U-Z are unnecessary for conveying the key narrative and themes. So many prequels fail by insisting on telling the A-G part of the story, explaining how the hero earned a certain nickname or met their memorable sidekick—but if that stuff was actually interesting, they likely would have included it in the original work. The greatest thing a prequel can actually do is recontextualize, putting iconic characters or moments in a new light, allowing you to appreciate them from a different angle. All of season 2 of Fargo serves to explain why Molly Solverson's dad is appropriately wary when Lorne Malvo enters his diner for a SINGLE SCENE in the show's first season. David's arc from the Alien prequels Prometheus and Covenant—polarizing as those entries are—adds another layer to why Ash is so protective of the creature in the first movie. Andor gives you a sense of what it's like for a normal, non-Jedi person to live under the boot of the Empire and why so many of them would join up with the Rebel Alliance—or why they would desire to wear that boot, or even just crave the chance to lick it.

Furiosa is one of those rare great prequels because it makes us take a step back and consider the established world with a little more nuance, even if it's still all so absurd. In Fury Road, Immortan Joe is an awesome, endlessly quotable villain, completely irredeemable, and basically a cartoon. He works perfectly as the antagonist of that breakneck, Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote-ass movie, but if you step outside of its adrenaline-pumping narrative for even a moment you risk questioning why nobody in the Citadel or its surrounding settlements has risen up against him before. Hell, why would Furiosa even work for him to begin with? But then you see Dementus and company tear-assing around the wasteland, seizing settlements and running them into the ground, and you realize Joe and his consortium offer something that Dementus reasonably can't: stability—granted, an unwavering, unchangeable stability weighted in favour of Joe's own brutal caste system, but stability nonetheless. It really makes you wonder, how badly does a guy have to suck to make IMMORTAN JOE of all people look like a sane, competent and reasonable ruler by comparison?!?

…and then they open the door to the vault where he keeps his wives, and in a flash you're reminded just how awful Joe is and why Furiosa will risk her life to help some of these women flee from him years later. This new context enriches Joe and makes it more believable that he could maintain power for so long, but it doesn't make him any less of a monster, and it says a lot about Furiosa's hate for Dementus that she could grit her teeth and work for this sick old tyrant.

3. The Stowaway

Here's another wild bit of trivia about this movie: you don't actually see top-billed actress Anya Taylor-Joy pop up on screen until roughly halfway through, once Furiosa is in her late teens/early twenties. Up until this point she's been played by Alyla Browne, who through the use of some seamless and honestly really impressive CGI has been given Anya's distinctive bug eyes [complimentary]. It's one of those bold choices that really works because Miller commits to it so hard, though it does make me wish Browne's name was up on the poster next to Taylor-Joy's.

Speaking of CGI, I should talk about what seems to be a sticking point for quite a few people: if there's been one consistent criticism of Furiosa so far, it's that it doesn't look nearly as practical or grounded as Fury Road, with more obvious greenscreen and compositing, and what previously would've been physical stunt performers and pyrotechnics have been replaced with their digital equivalents for many shots. Simply put, it doesn't look as real! For a lot of people, that practicality was one of Fury Road's primary draws, so I won't try to quibble if they're let down by Furiosa's overt artificiality, but to be honest I'm actually quite fine with it. It helps that this visual discrepancy doesn't sneak up on you but is incredibly apparent right from the aerial zoom-down into Australia in the very first scene, so I didn't feel misled or duped.

Fury Road never asks you to suspend your disbelief because it all looks so believable; Furiosa jovially prods you to suspend that disbelief from the get-go and tune into it on a different wavelength. It's a classical epic, and like the classical epics of the 1950s and 60s it has a lot of actors standing in front of what clearly are matte paintings. It feels right! We're not watching fact, we're watching myth. I'm willing to concede there might be a little bit of post-hoc rationalization on my part because I simply love this movie so much, but I'm not holding the effects in Furiosa to the same standard as those in Fury Road because I simply don't believe Miller and his crew are attempting to replicate that approach. Without the extensive CGI, we don't get that impressive long, panning take where a stranded Furiosa scans the empty, dust-and-sun-scoured wasteland (75% Sergio Leone, 25% Andrei Tarkovsky), or the Octoboss and his parasailing goons. For the sake of intellectual exercise I did try imagining them filming the Octoboss/war rig sequence with the same immersive practical approach they used for Fury Road's stunts, however I just kept picturing dead stunt performers, so perhaps the tradeoff was worth it!

4. Homeward

Around the same time we meet the Taylor-Joy-pilled Furiosa in Chapter 3, we're introduced to Praetorian Jack, the chief driver for the convoys running between the Citadel and its allied settlements. Jack's played by Tom Burke, who pulled off a very good Orson Welles in Mank! and who I should really check out in The Souvenir one of these days. He's also a cool dude! Here are some facts about Praetorian Jack:

He's decked out in road leathers with a pauldron stitched to one shoulder

He's stoic and wary, but still more or less personable and can carry on a conversation

Professes to a certain cynicism, to quote Special Agent Albert Rosenfield, but ultimately has a capacity for kindness and will do the right thing

Shoots a gun real good

Can drive like nobody's business

So in other words, Jack is Mad Max. But also, no, he clearly isn't! He looks and dresses like Mad Max (particularly Mel Gibson's) and does a lot of the same things "Mad" Max Rockatansky does, but he's also very explicitly a distinct character. It's a choice that seems inexplicable and perhaps even lazy on its face, except this is a George Miller movie, so of course this parallel is extremely purposeful. Miller has gone on record saying he avoids any kind of strict chronology or continuity for his Mad Max movies, compared to the rigid canons for Star Trek and Star Wars, and bless him for doing so. It's more fun viewing each Mad Max entry as a new revision or elaboration on a story being told again and again generations after the fall, mutating in style, structure and focus with every iteration, becoming less grounded as its core narrative is passed from elder to youth, community to community, genre to genre, until it becomes myth. (At least, my English major brain thinks it's more fun.) In fact there's actually something Arthurian to it, where at first King Arthur was mentioned in several Welsh legends before Geoffrey of Monmouth crafted an actual narrative around him, then Chrétien de Troyes added elements like Lancelot and infused the stories with more romance, and then with Le Morte d'Arthur Thomas Malory whipped the whole cycle together into one volume, which T.H. White would chop and screw and deconstruct with The Once and Future King centuries later.

All this to say: maybe Praetorian Jack looks and sounds and acts like Max because he sorta kinda basically is, being just one of many men driving back and forth across the wasteland, lending a hand on occasion, who'll be conflated into a single, legendary "Mad Max" at some point down the line in a different History Man's retelling of Furiosa's odyssey. Sometimes that Max rips across the desert in his V8 Interceptor, other times driving a big rig. Perhaps there's a dog tagging along and/or a scraggly and at first aggravating ally played by Bruce Spence or Nicholas Hoult. Usually he has a shotgun. But so long as you aren't trying to kill him, he'll help you out.

5. Beyond Vengeance

The Mad Max movies have incredibly iconic villains—Immortan Joe! Toecutter! the Lord Humongous!—but they are exactly that, capital V Villains devoid of humanizing qualities who you can't wait to watch bad things happen to. Furiosa appears to continue this trend by giving us a villain who in fact has a mustache long enough that he could reasonably twirl it if he so wanted, but ironically Dementus ends up being the most layered antagonist in the entire series, even moreso than the late Tina Turner's comparatively benevolent Aunty Entity from Beyond Thunderdome. And because he's played by Chris Hemsworth, whose comedic delivery rivals his stupidly handsome looks, you lock in every time he's on screen.

Something so fascinating about Dementus is that, for a main antagonist, he's NOT all-powerful, and in fact quite the opposite: he's more conman than warlord, looking for the next hustle, the next gullible crowd he can preach to and dupe—though never for long. For all his bluster, at every turn he finds himself in way over his head and writing cheques he can't cash, and this self-induced Sisyphean torment makes him riveting to watch. You're tempted to pity Dementus but it's also quite difficult to spare sympathy for someone who's so quick to channel their rage and hurt and ego into thoughtless, burn-it-all-down destruction. When you're not laughing at him, you're hating his guts, and it's indisputably the best work of Chris Hemsworth's career.

It's in this final chapter that everything naturally comes to a head: Furiosa's final evolution into the character we meet at the start of Fury Road, the predictable toppling of Dementus' precariously built house of cards, and the mythmaking that has been teased since the very first scene becoming diagetic text, the last of which allows the movie to thoroughly explore the themes of vengeance it's been building to. A brief war begins, is summarized and is over in the span of roughly a minute, and on its face it's a baffling narrative choice that most other filmmakers would have botched. But our man Miller's smart enough to recognize that the result of this war is the most foregone of conclusions if you've been paying even the slightest bit of attention, so he effectively brushes past it to get to the emotional heart of the climax and an incredible "Oh shit!" payoff that cements Miller as one of mainstream cinema's greatest sickos.

Fury Road remains the greatest Mad Max film, but Furiosa might be the best thing George Miller has ever made. If not his magnum opus, it does at least feel like his dissertation, and it makes me wish Warner Bros. puts enough trust in him despite Furiosa's poor box office performance that he's able to make The Wasteland. Absolutely ridiculous that a man just short of his 80th birthday was able to pull this off, and with it I feel confident calling him one of my favourite directors.

[sulkyuu]

⌞studyblr introduction ⌝

˗ˏˋ about me

― my name is lilly, i'm 19 and i am currently a full-time student attending a socal community college with plans of transferring to a uc.

― some of my hobbies include playing video games(valorant, minecraft, fortnite, overwatch, etc), reading books & manhwas, watching k-dramas, finding new music, and learning new languages ! (i am currently taking ASL at my college & i am leaning Korean on my own time)

― i am studying psychology with my main career goal to be a forensic psychologist, but i am still not 100% on what i want to do...

― intj-t , 6w5 , february aquarius

˗ˏˋ some of my likes & dislikes

― likes : my cats, green & pink, k-pop, alt-rock, taro matcha, winter, studying, baking, jasmine le, going to new cafes

― dislikes : summer/hot & humid weather in general, bugs, negativity, yelling, loud noises, allergies

˗ˏˋ classes i'm about to take (summer 2025)

― introductory psychology, ASL 1, basic keyboarding

˗ˏˋ classes i'm taking next semester (fall 2025)

― introduction to biological anthropology, dance history, study skills & time management, developmental psychology, PSY 201 (career opportunities within psychology), cognitive psychology, and stats/behavioral sciences.

˗ˏˋ some goals for my next courses

― minimum grades of 90's in each class, pass all of my exams, study 3-4 hours per course each week, always be prepared for class and finish assignments when they're posted.

˗ˏˋ why did i make this studyblr account?

― i had another tumblr account where i was lurking and only liking other studyblr's posts, but now it's my turn to start holding myself accountable with this account :p . i'll most likely start actively posting when my summer classes start (one week aaa i'm excited) !

― my dream college is uc berkeley so i desperately need an academic comeback (ㅠ﹏ㅠ)

thank u for reading ,, pls interact if u would like to be mooties :3

[radioactivewisdom]

For this to be true, heterosexuality as a whole would have to be challenged. That includes non heteros who seek to mimic such dynamics. We all know that won’t happen though. An actual feminist would protect children by demanding the porn watching father be removed from the house. Boy children wouldn’t be allowed preferential treatment. Mothers who bought their daughters razors and lipstick could be called out for grooming the next generation. Your desire to have babies with degenerate losers would no longer be enabled. We all know how that would go.

This is another call to extract resources from sovereign women. Who would only be further ostracized and ridiculed by the same women asking for help, if they actually delivered proper treatment. Women insist on cohabiting and procreating with the same half of the population they become paranoid about leaving their children with. Most women will eventually settle with a man and become pregnant. Meaning most men will be chosen by women. Yet, they’d never ask men as a collective to care for kids.

How does that work exactly? Most men have women willing to vouch for them and co-sign their social “safeness” by partnering up, but they’re still not fully trusted. If men are worthy of sleeping with and birthing, there should be no reason to fear their presence so much. These women would never call on men to protect every child they see, as most can barely behave around their own. Women reduce themselves to being incubators for predators, and want those who are free to be even lower than themselves. You’re the predator and groomers babysitter.

Question a mother on anything and watch her reaction. Try and instill actual feminist principles into children, especially daughters, and prepare to be torn a new one. More women will accuse you of malicious intent for letting their daughters know the truth about marriage and procreation, than they would for their beloved husband with “young” in his search history. If protecting children was considered important, majority of the population wouldn’t be here today.

Cat calling typically begins to happen for girls at age 10. 18 and under is when most abuse and assault takes place. Gendered grooming starts when the sonographer accurately reports a baby’s sex, with most women hoping for a son. Boy children are revered, and adult men are worshipped. If women continue to insist on bringing more children here, they shouldn’t require backup, as there’s no higher endorsement of our world than furthering it.

This is a losing game. Women know men are going to continue preying on children, even the ones they help make. Instead of swallowing their cognitive dissonance, they’ll blame unburdened women for their personal failings. In the same way non lesbians employ homophobia the moment their lapdogs won’t defend, or excuse their dealings with men. CPS already exists, and is looked down upon. If child well fare were to be societally acted upon, no more than %2 of the population could parent.

You will do more to protect kids by never birthing them into our Earths low vibrational circumstances, and leading by example through freedom. A million man lovers could pitch into communal nurturing, making the world an even less safe place. While one highly functioning woman with the capacity to reason, discern her environment, and put logic over idealistic thoughts, would make more of a difference. Even if only once. You co create reality with your actions. Helping husband and wife only furthers their misery making. Keep children safe by refusing to succumb to societal guilt tripping by the child endangering masses.

[kerink]

i used to have a black cat. i had him for 15 years and for most of his life i didn't know about the outdoor cat debate and by the time i learned i thought it would be cruel to deny him something in his last few years of life that he'd always had. so i let him stay an indoor-outdoor cat. this came back to bite me squarely in the ass because one time he was picked up and taken to the shelter.

when i was driving to go pick him up i was so anxious that i wouldn't be able to tell him apart. he wasn't chipped at the time, so there was no sure-fire way to identify him. and he had no distinguishing features. think of a black cat and that was him. i was so worried there would be other black cats there and i'd be fucked. this was insane, of course, because i immediately was able to tell him apart from the other two black cats there because i'd had him for 15 years and he'd been my companion through some of the worst shit in my life and i knew him.

but the thing is, i couldn't tell you why. other than a slight notch in his ear there was nothing special about his appearance. i could tell you the difference between my mom and step-mom down to minute details, but can't tell you the shape of my cat's face compared to other standard all-black american short-hairs.

i think about this experience a lot when i think about the stan switch in the fearamid. yes, to us, it was obvious who was stan and who was ford, but that's because we're humans.

bill isn't just an alien but he's from an entirely different dimension, in both sense of the word. yes bill has some phenotypical similarities to humans, in that he has four limbs and an eye, but even those aren't the same as ours.

would bill have known to look for a cleft chin? is his color vision the same enough for him to tell that ford's hair is not only a different color but two-toned? does bill even grasp the concept of facial hair let alone personal styling? even if he does cognitively understand it, are they obvious enough to him that he can clock them as easily as we can? and especially while desperate and under pressure? you get tunnel vision when you're angry, after all.

i'm sure if i'd asked my cat about it he would have been offended i couldn't tell apart the facial features and fur length and whisker alignment that made him different from the other black cats. let alone things cats use to identify each other that we can neither register nor comprehend, like scent.

what's the primary way euclydians tell each other apart? color? shape? that's not enough, that's like saying ethnicity and body type are all i'd need to distinguish two people. those are certainly helpful starting points, but i'm going to need a lot more, and most of those things are so subtle i'd probably struggle to describe them. have you ever tried to make yourself or a loved one photo-realistic in a video game? huge pain in the ass, right? there's always something not right about it and i bet you're never able to tell just what exactly is wrong.

that cat has since passed and i have two new cats. they're both tabbies, both girls, both the same age and size and body type. they are different colors and different patterns, but i don't even need that to tell them apart. i can tell them apart by fur-texture alone. rolling over in the middle of the night and bumping someone and knowing just who it is.

if bill had picked "ford" up would he have been able to tell it was stan? would the weight of him, the way "ford" struggled to find footing on his palm, the way bill's fingers didn't wrap around him right, the texture of "ford's" hands against his skin, would all of that have given away the ruse? this is not what it feels like to hold ford, just like i know kiki is silky and bubbie is soft.

my covid lock-down hobby was rescuing stray cats. my neighborhood was just infested with them and i'm good with cats and my neighbors were not so fuck me i guess this is my job now. i ended up rehabilitating, socializing, and re-homing 22 cats that year. a lot of those were kittens that wound up being born in my yard or in the crawl space. one of the litters wound up having twins and i couldn't for the life of me tell them apart. they were just brown tabby 1 and brown tabby 2 until they got a little older and one of them wound up having longer fur on the top of his head and i could work with that.

so much of telling other animals apart, for us, is color and shape and obvious details like fur length or injury.

ford wore the same stupid trench coat for over 30 years. even when he was in his scifi action hero getup, he was still in a trench coat. and when he changed into his post-portal fit, it was exactly the same as his scifi look just in a different colorway. and i know, obviously, this is because he is a cartoon character and that's how character design works but play with me here.

is ford dressing himself in a uniform to be obviously and consistently distinguishable?

i have a leg-up on telling cats apart because we're both mammals and share a common ancestor. yes humans and cats are very different, but not really. i think it'd be obvious to an alien that we came from the same planet; or if not obvious, then once told i'm sure it'd be believable.

bill is a 2 dimensional being that's over a trillion years old and has been all over the multiverse and has fist-fought time baby and the cosmic axolotl owes him a favor. humans are probably less than bugs to him.

but i have friends who keep insects and molluscs for pets and they can tell you just the same as i can with my cats: once you know a creature, you can tell them apart.

bill probably could have told stan and ford apart if he'd given himself a second to think, but he didn't. he was angry and tired and just ready for this to be over, so he let heuristics take over: this one has the shape and color and sound of ford, so that must be him. he didn't even pause long enough to see that the biggest, most obvious cue was missing: the extra finger.

if i had only given myself the time bill gave himself, and if the shelter people had been putting as much pressure on me as the town was putting on bill, would i have noticed the small notch in my cat's ear? or would i have made a split-second decision on pure instinct alone?

i had 13 more years than bill to get to know my pet, and i've sure as shit lived a smaller life than him, so maybe... but would i have banked the freedom and safety of my entire dimension on it?

[livingslime]

Frequently asked questions

When will the full game be released?

The release date for the full version is still to be announced. I work on this visual novel in my free time, so progress may vary. Currently, the project is in its early stages, making it difficult to project a completion date. As development progresses and I get closer to finishing, I hope to have a clearer timeline.

Is MC really in a hospital?

It is intentionally ambiguous whether the MC is truly in a hospital. The absence of nurses and Dr. Anselm being the only one attending to the MC are deliberately meant to provoke player suspicion. This mystery and the setting’s true nature are meant to unravel in later chapters.

Where did the MC's pee go?

The MC has a urinary catheter, a medical device used to drain urine from the bladder into an attached collection bag.

Urine collection bags connected to a catheter are typically changed every 5 to 7 days.

In the later chapters, there will come a time when Anselm has to change the MC's peepee bag.

Does MC actually need a urinary catheter?

In cases of severe traumatic brain injury (TBI), a urinary catheter may be necessary, especially in the early stages of recovery. TBI can lead to a range of symptoms, including impaired mobility, cognitive changes, or decreased control over bodily functions.

Also MC was unconscious for 2 days before waking up, catheters are commonly used for unconscious patients.

Will MC ever take a shower?

Yes I was planning to use this as content for later chapters.

Fun fact : Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI) patients in hospitals usually do not take showers independently, especially if they are in a critical or unstable condition. Instead, they are often given sponge baths or bed baths by staff to maintain hygiene without moving them too much, which could be risky. huehue

Will there be an ending where MC and Anselm are together?

Yes, absolutely! There will be an ending where MC and Anselm end up together. These endings will naturally come at the game's conclusion, and as I get closer to writing the finale, I'll have a clearer idea of how many good and bad endings there will be in total.

Was Anselm the one to cause MC's injury?

So this mystery is also to be unfolded in the later chapters. I hope readers understand that this visual novel has mystery/horror elements, there wouldn’t be much of a story if I revealed everything outright (ᗒᗨᗕ)

Does Anselm love the MC or just taking care of them?

Anselm's heart belongs entirely to the MC; they're the only one he truly loves.

Is Anselm a dog or cat person? or any other animal?

Anselm doesn’t usually keep pets, as he’s often away and lacks the time to care for one. But if he and the MC were living together and the MC wanted a pet, he would happily bring one home and enjoy caring for it together with them.

If he could, Anselm would create a beautiful bird terrarium—a place where he could observe them freely within a controlled space. There, they’d be safe, unable to leave but he alone is able to admire their beauty.

[pokedash55]

I was always bothered by 1997s importance in Deltarune Ch2, since it seemed to just be a funny reference to the Big Shot soda commercial (hosted by a guy named Mike) that everyone made out to be a bigger deal.

But then the Spamton Sweepstakes seemed to double down on 1997 as THE spamton Bigshot date fairly definitely. And with deltarune ch3 out it's more useful than I ever considered.

If we assume that we've been correct dating The BigShot era as 1997, as Spamton seems to believe, we no longer need to use the term 20XX. We should know what year Deltarune is now.

For Tenna and Spamton to have collaborated in 1997, this would mean both Noelle and Kris would have had to be fully cognitive children at that point. Old enough to play on personal computers and such. They only met because Noelle owned a laptop that she would bring to Kris' home thanks to info from Ramb.

Spamton is a spam bot on Noelles laptop specifically, not only in the library world, since he interacts with her Cat Petterz game. Tenna also mentions when discussing Spamton that he "wishes they never brought that laptop home" clearly in reference to Queen.

This confirms that they met initially due to Noelle always fusing the dark worlds together, or however the lore works. The sentient darkners percieve that as how it happened so we'll go with their interpretation. The logic behind their sentience in the light world is debatable but they have memories predating the darkness so I'm going with yes for now.

Queen's sprite looks a bit too new to be a 1997 laptop, but its possible tech advances different in deltarune or it's just a weird render as Noelles family has the funds to buy her a high tech laptop anyway. It's a detail that still irks me but I'll let it slide for now.

Any sorry for sidetracking but this would date them as being anywhere from 5-12 years old where playing make believe with objects (like Ramb the power cord) is a typical behavior. This is a wide margin of error at the moment but lets roll with it for now.

The things Tenna mentions all seem to implying a younger Kris, before the dess-appearence. With Noelle always coming over I'd imagine Kris was much younger. Probably more around the 5-7 spectrum than the 8-12 end.

Deltarune must take place around 10 years after 1997, since Kris and Noelle were younger children at that point and are now high schoolers, most likely 15 or so. This would place it in the mid/late 2000s.

Which in retrospect seems obvious with the state of the library computers and the fact that they still own a functioning landline phone. But I feel at ease knowing this.

[davekat-sucks]

Daaaamn that last ask I made did numbers! I think I’m gonna do a part 2, the alpha version.

1st, some addendums:

1. I saw that reblog saying people were flanderizing Gamzee as being a religious healer and spiritual person when he’s a juggalo and I just wanna say, okay I did lean in hard on his spiritualism but you gotta remember Alternian juggalos are part of an obscure clown cult and Gamzee was heavily invested in Miracles so I still think he’d make a Yourube channel for spreading his gospel, but doubles as also a music review channel. He 100% is invested on who’s part of the rap game and wants to teach people how to spit bars. His rap game is just so ass people would rather watch his miracle videos instead. Also when he livestreams he does it on his unicycle to keep him “physically and mentally balanced” as he says

2: my headcanon is that everyone is alive and living on Earth C as adults because I can do anything when Lord English is dead.

3: I could not say enough how many combos everyone would interact each other. There’s some underrated dynamics here like Eridan being Rose’s #1 hater and claiming all her evidence and recordings of the horrorterrors summoning black magic can be scientifically proven to be fabricated, and when John steps in and says he knows when to spot a fake and this is 100% real Eridan just calls John a simp.

Now that that’s off of my chest, what is everyone else up to?

Alpha trolls/

Damara: she’s not a Youtuber, her aggression and comments usually get her banned from interacting with her other friends, she more uses Instagram and Pinterest to upload her story. It’s a lot of photos of landscapes, anime girls, and for some reason the interiors of mansions color shifted to be green. Her captions are all in japanese (or East Alternian) and usually vaguepost towards how she’s lost and abandoned, she wants to be alive and someone to be with her and understand what she’s actually saying and that everyone who has wronged her is going to inevitably suffer. Her posts usually get 1-2 likes and they’re from Rufioh and Aranea.

Rufioh: he is an anime news and fandom channel. He is quite the reputable journalist and consistently finds leaks and obscure interviews from creators to share what is coming soon for the anime industry. When he’s not making news he does speculation and powerscaling videos, a lot of “what if” ideas and top 10 lists for hottest anime baddies. How does Rufioh stay so much on top of anime news? You’d have to ask his ex-girlfriend.

Mituna: Guy Who Annoys You On Purpose. Mituna is someone who since has been left by his friends for his declined mental cognition decides to have fun by trying to make new friendships his way, unfortunately that way is his erratic and vulgar way. He likes to go on GTA V servers and Omegle chat rooms and annoy people. He likes to quip jokes, distract or overwhelm people with his rambling and his body language. He most especially likes when it gets quiet and he jumpscares everyone with a loud scream. It makes him laugh his full body suit off.

Kankri: Video Essay Breadtuber. He makes those 2-4 hour long videos stitched together and scripted about different pieces of pop-culture or the current thing on social media through a lens of social justice, but his version of social justice happens to be morally condescending and judgmental. The average title of his essays would be stuff like “Michael Bay’s Transformers, the uncritical advocate for the patriarchy.” And you know these get dislike bombed into hell and back. A surprising theme of many of his video essays is the themes of sex and family dynamics. These essays commonly conclude that the only liberating relationship is lesbian polyamory and men should be celibate to save their sperm for the next generation of people to be raised.

Meulin: 100% a drama channel that covers recent topics, like Penguin0 but Charlie is a cat lady and the video focus is much more on people than online trends. Meulin loves to speculate and draw diagrams on the personalities and types each person has and what other e-celebs are the most compatible with. This discussion goes off topic from the actual events happening and usually becomes a nuisance. The neat thing is all her videos have working subtitles, since she wants deaf people like her to enjoy her content as well!

Porrim: Lifestyle Blogger. Porrim wants to show the world there’s a different way for women to love by and their own way to go, so she bought a farm and raised herself in the homestead. She likes to do many things around the house, like home improvement, cattle handling, cooking and cleaning, and decoration. Her audience is such a mix because her subscriber base is both lesbians that want a pretty lady like her and misogynistic guys who view her as a “tradwife” who is missing a worthy husband. She has the most subscribers out of any channel, reaching 750k subscribers and getting her own Youtube awards.

Latula: She’s quite the gamer. She reviews video games and loves to livestream her playing various Esports titles like League of Legends or Street Fighter. She encourages her subscribers to stay physically fit and active, and her Youtube shorts consist entirely of a Go-Pro recording her doing sick skateboarding tricks. When she’s not recording anything she’s miserable and uses Mituna as an emotional crutch to keep her happy. Kankri also tries to call and text her, but Latula never replies.

Aranea: She loves to talk about things that happened and her opinion on them. She is the Sarah Z of the Homestuck cast. Her focus, similar to Sarah Z is also on fanfiction and fandom culture. Her Youtube channel has about 225k subscribers but her Tumblr blog only has 20k. Such is the rot of this hellsite.

Horuss: Men’s Advice Channel. The twist for Horuss that deviates himself from the likes of fitness YouTubers or pickup artists is he actually strives to be a Beta Male. He makes videos with titles like “don’t let the others get in your head, Beta is Better” or “Smile and keep quiet, you will be rewarded” and goes on and on about being submissive, obedient, and empathetic are actually the good things men should do and Alpha Males get it all wrong and push women away with their misguided masculinity.

Kurloz: he’s the silent type. His videos probably would be more akin to artistic performances or interpretative dancing. Kurloz’s way of dancing, however, is more akin to doing mime things and charades than bodily rhythmic motion and expressionism. In a way, doing mine shit is one of the greatest ways to express one’s self through silent theatre.

Cronus: He’s the nerd. To try and connect with humankind as much as oossible and be humankin he has tried to buy as much content and toys from human media as possible to connect and act like a human. He 100% has a wall of Funko Pops, and he wants to show you them.

Meenah: She’s a Sims Youtuber, but instead of making silly guys from cartoons and TV shows interact with each other, all her episodes involve her ex-friend group and the Alpha kids. She likes to play God, randomly rewarding and punishing her sims in ways she sees fit. She finally has the control she always wanted, and amazingly she has 400k people subscribed to her antics.

Wow the alpha trolls were quite a group, now onto more familiar faces!

Alpha kids/

Jane: baking and food palette channel! Her cooking skills are unrivaled, and she’s even sold a few books on how to cook like her. While her cookbooks are good for generally feeding yourself with delicious recipes, her Youtube channel is more focused on fun and entertaining an audience. Her spin is every plate she makes is treated like a detective story. The ingredients for the recipe are used as clues for a crime scene, and she even uses tape, chalk outlines, and utensils in plastic bags as props for her investigation. Every crime is solved when the culprit is revealed to be the completed dish and the crimes they commit vary from wanting to not be eaten, or first degree homicide against multiple minors (don’t worry the minors in this case are chicken eggs)

Roxy: Genetics and Cat videos. Roxy is a cat breeder Youtuber that wants to show you how to make a cat even without a mate, and she does this through the wonders of ectobiology! She has tips and tricks for how to set up your ectobiology machine, how to track your cat through space and time. How paradox clones are made and when you can retrieve your cat at the right time, and most importantly, how to store freak clones of your favorite pet. Dave has gone on her channel to explain and show how animals are preserved in resin (yeah remember that’s a thing Dave liked to do? Reread his introduction pages back on Act 2)

Dirk: Animation and Story channel. Trying to pick up off of Dave Strider’s work on Sweet Bri and Hella Jeff, Dirk has took it on his own to create the next generation of incredible irony. He has made a 134 episode comic series about Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff coming across a portal to a parallel universe where they meet their bizarro twins, Sweet Jeff and Hella Bro. The webseries has it all, a simple start full of lighthearted shitposting and comedy evolving into a metanarrative about the nature of humanity, the struggles between stoicism and the desire to be loved and vulnerable to others, a Geromy redemption arc and a plot thread involving the Mane Six from My Little Pony becoming REAL. It’s considered the greatest work of Internet culture since Problem Sleuth 2: The case of the Midnight Crew.

Jake: Reaction Channel. Jake does not have a creative bone in his body, and rarely an original thought, but what he absolutely loves to do is support his friends, so he made a reaction channel where he reacts to the videos other people have made. He’s reacted to a lot of content, like all of the Alpha and Beta kids content, Karkat’s rant videos, Equius’s electrical engineering work and even some aloha trolls like Latula and Mituna. It’s the lowest bar for Youtuber content but tbh Jake is a page and it’ll be a while until he reaches his full potential and starts making his true calling: videos of himself shooting things from very far away. He’s a Marksman still getting used to his aim.

Yeeeeah! I did it woooooo all alpha trolls and kids done!

These are so goddamn good!

[quinton-reviews]

have you ever thought about doing a Game Shakers video? or is the show too boring to really justify such a thing?

So when it comes to doing Henry Danger and Game Shakers videos, there are really a few things I think people need to keep in mind...

The mini-series so far is really heavily about me revisiting my nostalgia and kind of answering my curiosity about where these shows went. So reviewing iCarly and Victorious worked because they were of "my era." Sam & Cat worked on that level of "What happened after I stopped watching?" I think that if I don't have a specific goal or pitch, just flippantly watching kid shows from faaaar past my childhood works less as a concept.

One of the great things about iCarly and Victorious is that both shows are barely, and I mean BARELY, in the copyright system on YouTube. Once or twice per season, I'd get one clip or one episode that I had trouble with. But it was shocking how much I could get away with. Sam & Cat was hell because it was clear that by 2013 Nick was uploading stuff to the YouTube copyright library as it was made. So no matter what I did, I would get a copyright claim. This is honestly why those final two videos were much more indulgent than my usual style. I kind of went, "if I have to fight copyright anyway, might as well show more clips..." I regret this somewhat, as now my new video still has 20+ days until I'll have full ads AND I now have a reputation for only recapping plotlines. But that's what you get I guess.

This is much more a thing for Henry Danger than Game Shakers, but another issue is just how much content there is with these shows. Henry Danger has a decade of content, recapping all of it would be both unsurmountable journey and... Well, not fun to watch. So if I ever did these shows, I would have to really focus more on season-by-season analysis rather than actual episodes.

I think my videos on iCarly, Victorious and Sam & Cat are all connected by certain themes and points that I am now drawing closure to. The gags about "the creator," the cognitive dissonance, the attachment to childhood, etc. So if I do reviews on other shows, I have to find new angles and themes to establish. Drake & Josh and Zoey 101 are topics I like because instead of focusing on the creator, I can focus on the lives of the stars and how fame affected them. When it comes to Game Shakers and Henry Danger, the only possible throughline I can think of is how the shows were effective by the collapse of their creator and production studio. Henry Danger continued and improved while Game Shakers was effectively canceled early and fell on its face. But we've already covered all that. Game Shakers just doesn't have that pull to me, and because of that, I can't imagine finding an excuse to review it.

[hsmagazine254]

Unleashing Brilliance: Mind-Stimulating Games For Pets - H&S Pets Galore

Engaging Activities To Challenge And Enrich Your Pet’s Cognitive Abilities Beyond the ordinary walks and play sessions, introducing mind-stimulating games can work wonders for your pet’s overall well-being. This article unveils a spectrum of creative games designed to engage your pet’s mind, providing mental stimulation that contributes to a healthier and happier furry friend. Puzzle Feeders:…

[anime-kia]

A Game of Charades (Part 2)

Okay so, I've had two dreams about Erik kidnapping me so um... This will be a continuation of A Game of Charades! So this is your heads up if you don’t like angsty, violent, evil Erik stories.

Warnings: Abuse, Kidnapping, Gaslighting, Violence, Death 

Relationship: Absuive Ex-Boyfriend Erik x Reader

Word count: 9.5k

Almost two years had passed since you last saw Erik. Living in the city with your roommate, Melissa, had proven to be the perfect distraction. Through therapy and counselling, you were feeling much better. 

Your therapist, Tashelle, was a 50-year-old black woman from the islands. She was so relatable and comforting, something that you desperately needed versus the first therapist who used the hour session with a script. It was dreadful being in his bleak office and listening to his monotone and almost judgemental voice, that only caused you to be more anxious. It didn’t help that he furnished his desk with photographs of big cats. Erik loved big cats, especially jaguars.

You actually let him know of your discomfort to the images, but he said it would help you “face your fears” …as well as the fact that he paid an obscene amount for the baroque images. 

Tashelle’s office reminded you of one of those interior decorators in New York who spend two thousand a month for an eight-hundred square foot apartment. It was warm and colourful, but not overwhelming and the plants were a really lovely addition. In fact, you ended up grabbing a few low-maintenance plants for your room from the corner store across the street.

She encouraged you to work and be in spaces where people were. If you were too lonely, the quietness would create paranoia since Erik isolated you so often. He was always kind to you when there were more people around, so this would help you feel more secure. 

Your last job ended up closing down so you had to find something quick.

Luckily though, you landed a job at a high-end retail store as a cashier in a popular touristy area. It was owned by two sisters who handmade all of their clothing items. You were quite surprised to see people from all over the globe coming into the shop and spending hundreds of dollars. Usually tourists would find the cheapest shop to grab a couple destination tees, but the sisters were brilliant at marketing. The store would typically be at half capacity throughout the day, and maxed out around noon on the weekends. 

On your off days, you would lounge at home or hangout in the downtown area since it was always bustling. When there was nowhere to go, you could still find something to do. Usually your cousins or friends would offer to spend time with you either people watching or eating out at family-owned restaurants. 

Avanté was doing a lot better. You and your family flew out to visit him last year. He was still in physical therapy due to the damages he sustained from Erik. He had to relearn how to write with his right hand and he was still casted as Erik managed to break more bones than everyone originally thought. Gladly, Avanté was very healthy and his recovery went smooth, but it hurt to see him in such a frail state. 

Even though guilt washed over you, he never blamed you, nor did he make you feel like it was your fault. Instead, he aimed to focus on the positives. 

“We’re alive. My hand might be fucked up but I still got it.” He would smile at you so blissfully. 

He was right though, you were alive. But for a long time you weren’t living… Maybe it was because he was still out there.

Things did return to normal though. A new normal. Your cognitions, your relationships and eventually your daily routine. You were motivated to do the things you loved again. 

The stylist you would go to, Iyana, since you were ten was shocked to see you return after four years. Once you started dating Erik, he refused to let you go to anyone he wasn’t familiar with and she had a strict policy on guests.

“Why the fuck can’t I be there? You gon’ be gettin’ yo shit done for most of the day. You really think I trust you enough to be at some bitch house? Nah.” 

“How else am I gonna get my hair done, Erik?”

“Do that shit yourself. The fuck?”

He had you so fucked up considering it was for your sister’s wedding and you were a bridesmaid. 

It was the first major event since being with him other than prom, so you decided to book the appointment anyway. 

You selected an appointment slot for 8 in the morning assuming that Erik would be in class. However, you were petrified when you saw his car pull into her driveway, followed by five aggressive knocks on her door. 

Without making a scene you profusely apologized to Iyana, paid her in full and promptly left with half of your hair done.

Needless to say, your makeup ended up being a full beat instead of the soft glam you originally planned. At least, you had a drawstring ponytail to add to your slicked back hair.  

It was almost time to close up shop. Mia, your coworker, was sending the last few customers on their way. She was a blonde, had a long square face and botox filled lips. You’ve heard a few people call her a bimbo, but she wore that title with pride. Her large breasts and comical appearance helped drive sales through the roof. People would always take a picture with her after making a purchase, and when they insisted on just taking a picture, she wouldn’t allow it. 

“If you want a picture you have to buy something!” She would say in the nicest and most convincing way possible. They would even end up purchasing more than they originally planned. It was one of your daily highlights, coming in to work and watching this interaction transpire with majority of the visitors. 

“Goodbye, have a lovely evening!” She waved to the last customer and locked the doors. “Whew, what a day! I am so ready to get some drinks at the bar. Wanna come with?”

You removed the till from the register. “Girl, you know I’m not too much into that.”

“Oh come on, you never wanna hangout after work!” Her hands went onto her hips, “Plus, I can get us free drinks.” Mia suggested in a sing-song tone. 

You looked at her with an arched eyebrow, “I’d rather not be roofied.” 

“What!? I’ve never been roofied, (Y/n).” 

You didn’t say anything, only disappearing into the office to count the money for the night. Mia followed you to the back and sat on the desk, watching intently as you tallied each bill. 

She wasn’t giving up. 

Setting the wad of cash into an envelope, you looked at her, “Look. I might come, alright? Only because it’s Friday and I ain’t doing anything when I get home.” 

“Eeee!” She clasped her hands together in excitement and hopped off of the desk. 

“You go ahead, I’ll catch up to you.” You still had more to count.

“Okay, and it’s the one on Broadway, only five minutes away. So don’t be too long!”

“I heard ya.”

Mia was out the door and you were left to finish up which took another ten minutes. Once you were done, you placed the envelopes in a safe, grabbed your coat and made your way outside through the employee exit toward the main road.

The music travelled through the rustic bar. It was old, but based on the modern looking stools and upgraded sound system, you could tell that the owners were being replaced. It reminded you of how your previous apartment went from cozy beiges, browns and greens to cold blues, greys and blacks. Erik left no room for your decorative input, considering he paid all of the bills.

Usually you despised going anywhere after work without a shower and an outfit change, but tonight you felt cute. Your braids were neatly wrapped into a large bun atop your head and your makeup— a delicate beat, which survived for your whole shift. The black, long-sleeved maxi dress rested perfectly over your figure, just barely covering your tennis shoes. You looked amazing, and you knew it. Only recently were you able to start dressing up without criticisms or accusations of cheating.

You made your way through the room, glancing around the dimly lit space for your boisterous coworker. She was by the bar, chatting up a group of strangers who were obviously attracted to her extravagant appearance. 

“Ah! You didn’t bail!” Mia jumped out of her stool once she noticed you approaching the empty seat next to her.

“I told you I was coming.”

Her eyebrow raised slightly, botox preventing the full movement. “Girl, I know you— Four shots of tequila please.” She told the bartender who made quick work of pouring the alcohol into the glasses.

“Four?” You questioned her.

“Yeah girl, two for you and two for me!”

You chuckled, it was apparent she already had a decent fill of drinks. 

You both grabbed the little glasses, clinking them together before throwing it back. 

“Oooh! One down!” She squealed in excitement, grabbing the next shot. 

The tequila burned your chest, but it was smooth. “Alright, cheers.”

“Cheers!”

And down went the second shot.

This one didn’t go down as smoothly as the first one, you coughed a few times before grabbing the lime. 

Mia laughed, amused at your discomfort. “See, this is why you should come out drinking with me more often!”

Once you recovered you shook your head, “I ain’t trying to become an alcoholic, girl.”

“Oh whatever, you’ll be fine!” She fanned your concern away, rocking side to side as the music switched to an early 2000s playlist. Fergie’s Glamorous was playing, which had you moving in your seat too. 

“First class, up in the sky!” She hollered as if she was in a world of her own.

“Champagne, living my life!” You joined her, feeling a bit looser and ready to have fun.

You both sang back and forth to each other, even the other patrons joined in. 

“If you ain’t got no money take yo’ broke ass home!”

“Heads up ladies,” The bartender enthusiastically placed four more shots in front of you, “A gentleman just paid for your drinks.”

You glanced at Mia, cautiously, but she was still singing and picked up the shot without any regard. This really was a typical Friday night for her. 

“Come on, (y/n)! Free shots!” She hollered, downing them back to back. There were people cheering, and laughing all around. It was overwhelming but also a lot of fun. 

The glasses were empty, your skin warm to the touch with a buzz that made you feel light. This was really fun.

The last time you were in a club or bar without your guard dog was second year of university. It was you and some classmates, squeezed into a booth with sticky menus and $5 margaritas.

Erik was swamped with exams and a twenty-five page paper, but you gladly finished your last exam for the semester. He couldn’t even text you if he wanted to. Well despite the fact that you purposely left your phone back in the dorm.

You felt so free, so alive. Something you’d been working on for the past few years.

At some point, Mia pulled you onto the dance floor and now Promiscuous was playing. The crowd had followed, joining the two of you in the hypnotic rhythm, swaying and rolling your hips.

Mia caught your arm, spinning you in a ditzy circle. You both laughed, all thirty-two of her pearly whites on full display. She let go and waltzed back into the sea of people, letting the rhythm take her wherever. You continued to groove, eyes closed. Your tipsy state made you feel like you were rocking on a ship. 

As fun as the night was, the energy started to wear off, the crowd thinned and the music hummed more quietly. You were sleepy, fatigued from dancing and also standing on your feet for majority of the day. It was late, just about the time when the real creeps started to emerge from the shadows. You decided to grab Mia and head out before anything could happen. Your limbs felt heavy as you searched the bar for her, opting to asking the bartender if he’d seen where she sauntered off to.

“Just went outside.” He explained, pointing to the door. “She ordered you a margarita by the way, it’d be a waste to leave it.” He pushed the pink drink toward you.

“Of course she did.” You laughed, quickly chugging it. You were certain it was strawberry flavoured with the same tequila from earlier, but it had a stronger kick to it. “She is really trying to turn me into an alcoholic.” You scoffed, shaking your head. The bartender gave you a sympathetic chuckle before retrieving the glass. 

You were almost positive she ordered that drink for herself, but stumbled enough to show the bartender that she was at her limit.

You thanked him, slinging your jacket back on and made your way out of the bar quickly. You were within walking distance of your apartment, but you had to make sure Mia would be able to make it into a taxi. 

You stepped into the crisp air, scanning for her. You expected to see a few smokers and even a homeless person asking for some change, but it was quiet. The cool breeze prompted you to tug your jacket tightly.

Though her voice was faint, you could hear it drifting from the alley beside the building. You had half a mind to just go home, but another to go retrieve her. Alley’s were very unnerving and that last drink had you feeling worse than before. 

With a quiet sigh, you rounded the corner, the soles of your shoes crushing loose pebbles and gravel. It was dim, only a street light faintly illuminating her person.

“Mia?” You called out.

As you got closer, you could see that she was talking to a hooded stranger. Figuring it was her ride home (or a one-night-stand), you gave her a quick eyebrow-raise and smile combo, but her eyebrows lifted, and eyes widened in excitement, “Oh, there she is!” She pointed at you. “(Y/n), this man said he’s been looking for you!”

Looking for me? Your eyes narrowed, “What do you m-“

Time slowed down as the large figure turned around, revealing a set of gold grills that were shining eerily under the moonlight. Your heart felt as though it fell through your body, eyes widening and body trembling. Your tipsy state wore off immediately.

You were stuck.

In your mind you took off sprinting as fast as your possibly could, leaving the two bodies in your past. But there he was, staring at you with that same look of malice, but to everyone else it was just a normal smile.

Your feet wouldn’t move no matter how hard you tried. Your survival instincts were damned, ruined so badly that your body forgot the principle of fight-or-flight. You were like a deer stuck in headlights staring at this man. As your heart rate increased, your body shook. It was subtle, but every inch of you vibrated. Your words were at a loss. 

“Wassup?” He cockily smirked. Everything about him emitted dominance and evil. Every stride he took towards you had your spirit crumbling. “You’re free to go, Mia.” He waved her off with one hand and she happily departed, waving goodbye.

What did he mean she was “free to go”?

Finally finding your voice, all that came out was shock. “Wha-“

Erik finally got close enough to tower over your frozen frame, as he used to. You winced with a trembling jaw as he lifted his hand to stroke your cheek. “Its been so hard tryna stay away from you, baby. Two years. Two fucking years.” He grabbed your face this time, fingers depressing your cheeks. 

“H-how-“ 

“I can’t tell you all my tricks.” He bent down to look you eye to eye. “But you’d never suspect a coworker, hm…” A chuckle, “Fuck could a blonde bitch know ‘bout a nigga nicknamed Killmonger?” 

Your knees buckled, but he caught you with that same arm. 

It was all an act?

He could see the question in your tear-filled eyes, “You really thought you could get away from me? On some real shit?” His tone grew aggressive, and he shoved you against the wall. 

The weight of your body heavily slumped against the bricks.

Help me, someone please.

“Don’t trip. I’mma remind you.” You could practically feel that sinister grin he would often do. 

The only one who can save you is yourself. 

Those words were from Tashelle, wise words she said to you during your sessions. Unfortunately, she used them in a hypothetical sense, and not so much practical. Either way, you tried it. 

A powerful elbow met with Erik’s abdomen and for that split second he released you with a pained groan. Your feet were moving faster than your brain as you dashed toward the main road, but Erik was faster. 

So much faster. 

Barely making it out of the alley, the collar of your coat was dragged backwards, sending you into his hard chest. A vice grip went around your neck, fear surging through your mind as he restricted your airflow. Already weakened by the now obviously drugged beverage, you struggled to stay conscious. 

You tried your best to plead with him, and apologize but the grip that he had was too tight. The most that got out were gurgles as you desperately tried to reclaim your breath. The tears flooded out as reality started to kick in.

He really found you— actually… He knew where you were all along.

“Two years, and this is how you greet me?” He seethed, tightening his grip. Your nails clawed at his hand, whimpering and struggling against him. “Don’t you see that I love you, (Y/n)? Why the fuck is it so hard for you to get that?!” His calloused hand overlapped your mouth as if your desperation grew too noisy for his liking.

As he continued to spew nonsense, your state of consciousness dwindled until the entire world went pitch black. 

A pounding headache accompanied by knuckles grazing your cheek suddenly woken you out of your deep sleep. Fear crept along your skin which ached from the night before. Unaware of the time of day and your location, you dreaded opening your eyes. The reality of who was looming over your body kept you frozen. Badly, you wanted to make an attempt at escaping, even without properly assessing your situation, but you knew it was futile. The fact that you were back in this man’s presence alone told you enough. 

As your consciousness slowly regained, a familiar sensation grasped you. The worn out vinyl beneath your fingertips, the stale smell of rubber and dirt filled your nose. The surface firm, but soft, though you felt the two-hundred pound mass pressing you further into the seat. 

The air from his nose was hot against your chest, as if he nestled his head there. “Rise and shine, princess.” He spoke harmoniously. 

He knew you were awake. 

He was too close.

Unexpected fingertips trailed along your thigh causing you to flinch and drag your leg away.

Erik chuckled, opening his palm and gripping your thigh, hard. You whimpered. “Always tryna run from me.”

Your heavy eyes fluttered open to an empty bus and him in your peripheral. It was too intimidating to look his way, too frightening to accept the reality, so you kept your eyes casted down onto his strong grasp. 

Erik’s free hand grabbed your chin, forcefully turning your head towards him. “Look at me.” He demanded, but you refused, still focused on anything that was not him. “I said look at me!” He barked, and this time you did. Your pupils were dilated, and eyes red. Mouth quivering as you got a full look of your captor. 

He was bigger. So much bigger.

His bicep muscles were practically bulging out of his black long-sleeved shirt. His dreads messily scattered across his forehead, unshaven beard and piercing eyes that bore into yours giving him a rugged and intimidating look. He almost appeared primal.

It was obvious, your physical chances against Erik were slim to none. He loomed over you with such force and dominance, reminding you of the fragile position you were in. Upsetting him wouldn’t be wise. 

But how wise could one in fear be?

His grip loosened just slightly before letting go, leaving an ache in your jawline. He stood up, the corners of his mouth tugged slightly upward before falling flat.

“You ain’t come looking for me.” He stated.

Unable to comprehend, you questioned him. “Wh-why would I ever do that?”

“Because you need me.” 

Automatically your head shook from side to side, voice in a whisper, “I-I don’t… Need you.”

“You do.” He plainly responded staring into your eyes with a strong intensity.

Still you shook your head, this time without a word.

“You really think you here because of yourself? Nah mama, I allowed you to live.” 

An eyebrow shot up at his ridiculous words. 

“It didn’t take much to find you either. I know you… I know you more than you know yourself.” 

“Stop.” You quietly protested. 

“It’s laughable to know how easily people give up information for money, (Y/n).” 

“N-no…”

“Yes.” He nodded, “Mia? Yeah, you know your coworker, the one with them fat ass lips and them big titties? Shit, she was too easy.” 

“Stop.” Tears began to fall from your eyes.

“What’s your roommate’s name? Melinda? Nah, that ain’t it.” He paused for a moment, “Ah, Melissa. Yeah. Her. Putting all yo’ trust in a bitch who thinks crystals gon’ give her powers… You goofy as fuck for that.” 

A sudden burst of confidence came over you, “But you spent money to track me down, you desperate son of a bitch!”

He grinned again and shrugged, “Maybe… I let you have your time though. Even when you disrespected me going on all those dates and letting niggas into your apartment. I should fuck you up for that shit.” His grin was replaced with an intense gaze. 

“You were gonna do that anyway!” 

“That’s where you’re wrong. I could’ve, but I didn’t.” 

“You drugged me, choked me out and kidnapped me, motherfucker!” You seethed.

“That’s what you enjoy, right? You love when my arms are around that lil’ neck.” 

“You’re fucking sick.” You sniffled, “Please, just let me go. I won’t say anything.” 

Erik looked towards the back of the bus then back at you. 

“I believed that once.”

“Please, Erik.” You begged in desperation.

He then walked in the direction he was looking in and opened the back of the bus. “Go.” 

The sound of the ocean suddenly became apparent.

You stared at him in confusion. “Wh-“

“You said you wanted to go, so go.” His flat tone hinted at a dare, as if he had something planned. 

The front door was locked, and the windows were covered in a layer of smog. It was probably early in the morning, just before the sun began to rise. The air was cold and damp from the previous night of rainfall. It was dark, but not darker than the man who stood by the open exit. 

You scooted out of the rough seat, each movement reminding you of the pains in your body.

The fall breeze caused a chill over you, but what was more concerning was the aggressive sound of loud waves crashing against a rock beneath you. Your damp eyes widened at the horrors of your situation.  

It was the last day of senior year. You, Erik and some other friends were at the bluffs, enjoying a day by the ocean to combat the hot California sun.

“How much would someone have to pay y’all to jump off that cliff?” Your friend, Josiah asked the group.

“A million.” Stacy quickly answered, stooping down to collect a seashell.

“Girl, that’s how much they bout to take from you at the hospital!” You quipped. “No one is surviving that.” 

“Okay, okay. Guaranteed survival. No hospital.” He countered. 

You thought for a moment before looking at Erik who was gazing at the cliff, appearing as if he was considering the question for himself. 

“Shit, I don’t think money would be enough!” You finally answered. 

Stacy caught the look that you gave Erik, “Well if not for money, then what about to save a life?”

“Depends on who.” You retorted back to your ambitious friends. “And why am I jumping off a cliff to save anyone anyway?” 

“You taking this too literal, (y/n)!” Josiah complained, kicking sand in your direction.

“Hey!” You laughed, kicking it back at him. 

“Hey!” Erik’s voice brought you back to your senses. “Gon’ and go.”

“N-no, Erik.” You backed away with unsteady knees, but a scream erupted from your core as your body was pulled forward out the door— back facing the eminent doom and eyes locked on the one causing it. “Wait!!! Stop please, no!!!”

Erik was gripping your arm with one hand. “You said you wanted to leave, and this is the only way I’m letting you out.” 

“Help, please!!! Anyone!” You wailed and cried, desperate calls for help falling upon no ears as the crashing waves drowned them out. 

“I already said, if you not gon’ be with me then you got no one else, baby. So whatchu’ want?”

You didn’t know what you wanted at this moment, to just let go and be free or to obey that natural instinct to survive? 

“All you gotta say is you wanna be with me.”

You avoided swaying in his grasp for the chance that he could lose his grip, but your fear of heights settled in. “Please!!!” 

“Make your decision, (Y/n).”

“Don’t do this!” You whined with clear terror in your voice. 

“Say it!”

Your head shook as a reflex, but he loosened his hold ever so slightly sending you into a fit of desperation, clawing at his arm with both hands, screaming loudly in fear. He remained unfazed by your frantic panicking, maybe even enjoying it. 

“Say it!”

“I-I want to be with y-you.” You cried, but apparently not convincing enough for you as he released even more. “Ahhh!! Please, Erik. I want to be with you and no one else!!” Your eyes were burning from the sea water air, head aching from your tumultuous pleas to your captor. “Please, don’t let me fall!”

In that instant, he pulled you back into the bus. Well really, he threw you into the bus so hard that you slid across the floor, scraping your arm and leg on the rigid walkway. The braided bun that rested on your head from last night was now lopsided with strands falling out. Your dress was ripped in various areas and covered in different dirt marks. You laid on the ground, shaking, feeling a soreness along the entire side of your body.

The back door slammed closed, and he sinisterly chuckled. “See. Now was that so hard?” His boots thudded against the ground before sitting in a seat next to your body. “You need me, and you gon’ learn that shit.” 

He stared at you for a moment with a smug smirk before getting up. 

“It’s a long road ahead, so I advise you behave yourself.”

Your cries grew silent, feeling him step over you. The engine started and the ground began to vibrate. You wondered if risking the fall would’ve been better than this. 

Somehow, you managed to haul your aching body into the seat. The cool leather contrasting the heat underneath your flesh. The broken skin pulsed, nasty purple bruises shaded your arm and thigh. 

They always told you black people don’t bruise easily, but that’s because they never met a beast like Erik. A rainbow would envy your ability to change colour if it was sentient. Or maybe it would cry for you instead. 

Doing your best to stay out of his view, you laid across the bench trying to not irritate the fresh wounds. You closed your tired eyes, drowning out the rumbling of the bus and his mumbling from the front. 

“You not gon�� answer me?”

Choosing to remain silent, you heard him chuckle. 

“It’s aight, imma talk though.” He went on. “I finally figured out where we going.”

This caused your ears to perk up. Was he just driving around aimlessly to torture you?

“I got some family that gon’ be happy to see me.” A devious tone to his statement made you wonder how truthful that was. 

As he continued to ramble you looked at the opposite window. I could squeeze through, I think.

An ambitious thought, but likely fatal. 

Back in high school, you remember hearing about a guy who thought it would be funny to stick his entire arm out of the window on the interstate. He returned to school the next fall with one less limb. 

The thought made you shiver along with the words that left Erik’s mouth.

“Just so you know, I know where that nigga stay.” 

Your eyes widened.

“It’s fucked up that my boys stayed true to me and you didn’t, baby. So if you try to leave me again, I’ll give him a special ticket to meet Jesus.” He could hear you gasp, “And he ain't the only one.”

You’re not sure when you started crying again, but the salty stream ran down into your ears.

“All it takes is one call.” Erik warned.

After what felt like hours, the bus turned off into an old abandoned-looking gas station. There were four pumps lined in front of the store. The windows were boarded up with metal gates, and the paint was peeling off of the walls. 

The engine shut off and you heard Erik’s shoes thud against the ground in your direction. He made an obnoxiously loud groan as he stretched his arms. 

“C’mon.” He demanded, “Grab some snacks and piss if you have to.” In his palm was a twenty dollar bill pointed towards you. “I got a few calls to make.”

Without arguing, you sat up and carefully took the money from his hand. As you began to walk past him, a hard grasp to your backside halted your movement. You wheezed and trembled at his touch. 

“Hold on.” His finger slid into the hole in your dress and he tore the fabric apart. You stared in horror as the bottom of your dress fell to the ground. It stopped mid-thigh. He then draped his sweater over your head. “Can’t have you going in there looking like you was fighting.” He grinned. 

If you could cry anymore, you would. That was the first dress you bought since being able to leave your house after the entire fiasco a few years ago. It made you feel liberated and sexy. Now this man literally ripped it away from you, the same way how he stole your freedom. 

You lead the way, feeling his predatory gaze. The bus doors opened and you made it down to the last step, only to realize that you misjudged it, falling flat onto your face. Your legs were in so much pain that you hadn’t realized actually using them required more effort than you originally thought. 

It was also the aftermath of the drinks.

Your gracious captor hopped down, helping you onto your aching feet. “Damn baby, you making this story easy for me.” 

“Wha-“ You glared at him, painfully peeling out the rocks that were embedded into your skin. You got another glance at that disgusting bruise on your leg, starting to realize what he meant. 

The windows may have been boarded, but they could still see through. It was even proved when you got in the store and immediately the older gentleman behind the counter said, “That looked like a hard fall, lady. Your skin is all cut up.” He sounded southern. “You alright?”

No… 

“I’m okay, I’ve had worse…” Which was completely true. “Could I use your bathroom?”

“Certainly, here ya go.” His wrinkled hand grabbed the bathroom key from underneath the counter and handed it to you. 

The store was practically empty, only bypassing one other customer with a mean tattoo marking around the back of his head on the way in. He merely glanced at you as he held the door open. In fact, the man looked somewhat strong enough to take on Erik. 

You limped to the bathroom and locked yourself in. Surprisingly, it was a bit more clean than you imagined. There was a subtle smell of funk, but the floors were almost shiny and free from litter that people decided was better on the floor than in the garbage. The toilet still had a black ring inside the bowl, and you dare not sit on the seat. 

After releasing your bladder, you made it to the sink. In the mirror, you saw a corpse. The complete opposite of last night. Your eyes sunken in, and bruises and indents of rocks were littered across your cheeks and forehead. Erik’s sweater had your blood pooling through the sleeve, and you didn’t need to look down to know your leg was leaking into your shoe. You wished you had a pair of scissors to cut your braids out. 

You did your best to wipe away the blood and make yourself appear less dishevelled. Then three knocks came to the door.

“Miss, you alright? You been in there for a while.”

It was the cashier.

Though he meant no harm, you were quite irritated at the question. It’d only been eight minutes, and if he had to go he could’ve just said that. Even Erik didn’t hassle you to hurry up this time around.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” You agree with a huff, finally making it out of the bathroom, “Thank you.”

He stepped aside, “If you need any first aid supplies we got ‘em in the third aisle.”

You nodded at him, throat feeling too sore to say anything else. At least for now. 

Erik was still outside on his phone, you could see him leaning against the bus. He was looking in the store with an impatient gaze. 

You scoped the shelves for your favourite snacks, trying to make some light in this grim situation. Fortunately, you found everything you were looking for. With no idea where Erik was taking you nor how far, you wanted to get as much as you could. 

You held everything with two arms, dropping them onto the counter. The cashier gave you a look with one eye behind his glasses then looked back down.

“You from around here?”

You shook your head. What even is here? You wondered. 

You scanned the shelves behind the grey-haired man looking for some sort of indication, but it only left you with more questions. Certainly, you couldn’t have been that far out of California, maybe somewhere within Nevada considering the dryness of the land. 

“I ain’t surprised, it ain’t much till you get about a hundred miles out.” 

You gave him a half smile, contemplating if you should try your luck at revealing your scenario. He appeared quite feeble and wouldn’t stand a chance against the mass of muscle outside, but you’ve heard of sleeper builds before. Maybe he was one.

“Oooh, starbursts! These were my granddaughter’s favourites when she was little. I used to have a pack for her every time she’d come to the house.”

Again, all you could do was smile. You could tell he wanted to have a conversation, but the tension in the air was apparent. He bagged the snacks and handed them over to you, accepting the money.

Finally, the old man sighed. “Look, I ain’t tryna intrude or nothin’, but you look like you saw a ghost.” He hands you your change.

Nothing like an old person to call you out on your appearance. He then gestures his head towards Erik. 

“It ain’t normal to see young folk in these parts, ‘specially not on a yellow bus.” He leans in and keeps his head low, “You alright, missy?”

You nodded slightly, taking the receipt from his wrinkled hands. 

His mouth formed a straight line, eyebrows furrowing together. “Mmh, alright.” He looks out the window and your head follows noticing an absence. Erik must’ve gone back into the bus, you assumed. 

This was your chance. 

“Do you have a pen?” You suddenly asked. 

“I uh…” His eyes searched around the counter, “Here it is.” He pulled out a red pen and handed it to you.  

With one more glance at the window, you took your receipt, writing down ‘Help’ and quickly slid it back over to the man. 

His calm demeanour changed to something more urgent. “You stay in here, I’m callin’ the cops right now.” He said, picking up the shop phone from the wall. 

You nervously watched as he began dialling the number, wishing he could move half a second faster. 

The operator picked up, “911 what’s your emergency?”

Suddenly, the hairs on your neck stood at full attention feeling a presence looming over your bruised body. 

“Put the phone down.”

The stealth this man possessed was terrifying. You shared a desperate look with the cashier, cold metal aimed directly at his head. 

“Please, Er-“

“Shut the fuck up.” He was quiet as a means to not draw suspicion, but his tone was full of authority.

The old man continued to stare in disbelief. 

“Hello?” The operator continued to speak.

Erik pointed to the base of the phone, “I ain’t gon’ ask again. Do it now.” 

Obediently, the man placed the phone back down clearly valuing his own life. “Listen, you don’t gotta do this. Y’all are both young, got yer’ whole lives ahead of you. Just let her go,  and I won’t report nothin’.” 

“Playing hero, huh?” Erik’s rough hand lands onto your shoulder as he snorts, “That would’ve been believable, but you called 911. You don’t even know her, bruh.”

“I’ve seen more than enough to know what kinda man you are.” 

His fingers gripped harder into your shoulder, “And what kinda man am I?” He challenged.

“A coward.” The man quickly reached under his counter to grab what you assumed was a shotgun, but Erik was just that much faster.

The gunshot was silenced and you watched in complete horror as the older gentleman’s blood splattered onto the shelves. His body made a loud ‘thud’ onto the ground. 

Erik sighed and stepped around the counter to assess the damages. “Look what you made me do, (y/n).” 

You trembled, arms and legs feeling like jello, mouth dry and eyes wide. Your sore throat only permitted you to dry heave as the sight made you nauseous. You’ve seen Erik beat the shit out of people till they were black and blue, but never murder.

The door chimed again, but you were too frightened to look away from the scene in front of you. It sounded like three other people entered the store, but no one reacted to the situation at hand.

“Clean this up.” Erik demanded. There was no way he could be talking to you, right?

Your legs finally gave out, and the world went black again.

A hum that you grew entirely too used to brought you back to your senses. But you were numb, fingertips and toes slightly twitching. Your head was throbbing intensely. 

“Aye, E. She’s waking up.” A voice from your left spoke. It sounded like a Hispanic man in his early 20s. 

Heavy footsteps approached your body, but you kept your eyes closed. He sat down in the seat across from you, “I got it from here, go to the front with Klaue.” 

Based on the steps growing distant, you could tell the man did as he was instructed. 

“I know you hearin’ me.” He began in an oddly soft tone, “You hit yo’ shit hard too.” His hand reached to the top of your head in which you flinched. “What did I tell you, baby? I thought I made myself clear. You thought I sent you in there without knowing you was gonna try to get that old motherfucker to help you.” He scoffs, “Fuck you think I am?” 

He was right, it was odd that he sent you in there looking beat up and without him hawking over you. 

“If you just listened, he would probably still be alive… Oh and speaking of niggas being alive.”

Your eyes shot open, revealing a wicked smirk from Erik.

“Oh, you know where I’m going with this.”

“Please, don’t.” You begged, it was almost inaudible based on how hoarse your voice was.

“Mmh, you right. You might go insane knowing you got two bodies under your belt in one day.”

It was disgusting how much he had over you in this moment. It made you regret asking for help as all it did was bring more devastation and misfortune to the lives of others… And yours as well. 

“But maybe I’d like that. I love a crazy bitch.” He teased.

A grimace of pain crossed your face. Glancing ahead, you noticed that there were three other heads on the bus. A skinnier-looking male with a short and messy mullet, perhaps the one who alerted Erik of your wakeful state. Another with a slender stature and jet-black hair, and the last one you recognized was the man who passed you in the gas station. 

You wondered if this was why Erik was outside for so long instead of keeping tabs on you.

“How far are we from the safe house?” Erik asked.

“Ehh, two more hours.” The one with the tattoo replied. 

“Bet.”

Great, maybe you should’ve grabbed the first aid kit and Tylenol. You had no idea how you were going to last through these last two hours, especially with Erik sitting across from you, watching you like a hawk. The other three were chatting up a storm about some plans, hostages and you even think the word vibranium was mentioned a couple of times. 

Finally, the bus pulled into an old warehouse. Everyone vacated, you being the last one to get off. Your headache somewhat subsided but your muscles felt like they seized up.

It hadn’t even been a full two days yet so you knew no one was looking for you. The last person you spoke to was your mom letting her know you’d be stopping by on Sunday to drop off a bouquet of dahlia’s and peonies for your grandmother’s birthday. They were supposed to be having a little get-together at your parents’ house. Just a few cousins, aunts and uncles. Your absence will surely bring great concern, everyone knows how much you lovedyour grandma. 

You were guided into the large building, rather, dragged in by Erik’s firm hold on your bicep. This was likely where he was staying considering the interior looked quite lived-in. There was not much in the front other than rusted rims, broken-down cars and a few lockers. However, through the side door, the warehouse looked just like your typical criminal hideout. There were bookshelves, couches, desks, computers and TVs. There was even an area that had a fridge, dining set (plastic chairs and a fold-up table) and other small appliances. It reminded you of the break room at work.

Eventually, you were led into an isolated room near the back. Expecting to see chains along the wall and nothing but an old murky area, you were surprised at the comfort instead. It was clearly where he slept judging from the scent of the room and the indent on the left side of the double-bed. 

How in the world were they able to pull this off? It made your head spin considering the man shoving you was technically on-the-run. 

“This is where you’ll be staying from now on.”

“Wha- Absolutely not.” There was no way he was suggesting you lay in the same bed as him.

He strolled over to the bed before sitting down with wide legs, and a smug look on his face. “What, you scared?” 

“I am not sleeping with you, Erik.” 

“Oh?” He suddenly leaned forward looking more intrigued, “Then where, the floor? Well news flash, baby, this ain’t the Ritz Carlton. When a rat go crawling on your face or a spider lay some eggs in ya ears ion wanna hear shit. You should be thanking me, I coulda had yo’ ass locked in the storage.” 

A horrified look plastered your face. Sure he was just as vile as rats or spiders, in fact, you almost considered the latter, but you feared both just a little more than you did Erik. 

He grinned, knowing your decision. “Go clean up. Bathroom is the second door on the left. There’s some towels and rags under the sink.”

Without another word, you headed down the hall. Part of you had the urge to explore the building and find potential escape routes, but you were exhausted and barely able to stand without using the wall for assistance. 

The shower was quite soothing, hot water rolled down your aching back all the way to your toes. The dirt, grime and blood washed off into the drain. Your bruises were quite tender, but you didn’t mind. A hot shower always calmed you down, but now that you were all alone, you broke down. 

He found me.

That feeling of being free was never real. You always felt as if he was watching you, never knowing when he would strike. It wasn’t until you started to feel fine that you stopped checking over your shoulder and you opened up to trusting men again. Perhaps it’s why he decided to make a reappearance. 

Erik always wanted you to be afraid of him, too afraid to leave him. Never did he imagine you would actually do it, and even go as far as shooting him for another man. It made him furious. 

You were huddled in the corner of the shower, staring at the wall with dead eyes when Erik came in. 

“Get out. You been in here too long to not be done.”

Your eyes tracked onto him, refusing to move an inch.

His eyebrows furrowed, “Get the fuck up. Now!” He barked. 

You flinched but remained in place. 

He stormed over to the shower, grabbed your bun and pulled you back underneath the water. This wouldn’t have been too bad, but the water became ice-cold ten minutes ago. 

You screamed as the water pelted your skin. “S-stop!” This time you tried moving, but his grasp was firm against your scalp. Your wailing and pleas fell on deaf ears as he watched your palms slap against the tiles as you tried to break free.

It felt like an eternity before he let up, pulling you to your feet. 

All of the comfort you felt was gone in an instant.

Your body shook, whether it was from the cold water or his presence, you were unsure. The jitters made it nearly impossible to stand up straight so your legs gave out and you collapsed back onto the cold tile. 

The tears that lined your bottom lids began to splatter onto the ground, arms trembling as they tried to support your weight.

He treaded over, kneeling beside your frail body. “Get. Up.”

“F-fuck off.” You managed to say through a strained voice.

“Hmm… So you not done?” His hand reached for your scalp again, fingers bypassing each braid to get to the root. “Maybe another cold shower will clear yo’ head right up.” 

Your body slid against the floor with some resistance as you put up a fight, but he was always so much stronger. “Let me go!!”

The wound on your leg was fresh and you could feel it splitting open. However, the thought of nearing that frozen shower was even more painful.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please!” You screamed and begged, just as he began opening the door. “I’m so sorry!”

A pause.

The burning sensation in your scalp began to calm, but not without a remnant ache. 

He knelt down again and spoke more calmly, “You done?”

You didn’t respond, only catching your breath and trying to slow the tears falling from your eyes.

“I asked you a question, baby.”

You nodded repeatedly, afraid of what was to come if you didn’t. 

“Good.” He said in a flat tone, a hand reaching out to cup your face. “You better not forget who the fuck you belong to, and if you do I promise I will remind you over and over again until you get it.” He stood up, folding his arms across his chest. “Get your ass up.”

You did, clutching onto the shower door handle to support your weight. Warm liquid trickled down the side of your leg and the source stung something vicious. 

Erik glanced at the reopened cut, but didn’t react. 

You felt faint, but you feared falling back onto the ground. The atmosphere was intense as he continued to stare at you and you could see in his eyes what he was demanding. What he wanted you to ask. Your pride refused, you wanted to shout ‘hell no!’ refusing his “kind acts of service” knowing that this was a manipulation tactic.

Your head automatically began to shake left and right, slowly. 

He smirked, fuelling your frustration because you knew you had no other decent choice. “What’s the matter, princess?” He questioned in a disgustingly sweet tone.

Refusing, you tried to grab the beige towel from the counter you set down prior, however you stumbled almost immediately into his arms. A ridiculous moment that frustrated you beyond imagine.

The tears fell even harder, it sickened you. Without even trying, he had you back in his grasp. Acting like prince charming to come to your aid as if he didn’t try to give you hypothermia just a few painful moments ago. You couldn’t even look up, staring at the white floor and his black boots.

It was infuriating. You wanted to fight, but you body was weak. Tears and blood continued to pour. 

“H-help me.” Pride shattered, you gave in.

“What was that, I couldn’t hear you?” He sarcastically responded. 

“Help me, please Erik.”

“So you do need me, hm?”

Your head fell even lower, chest aching as he continued to stomp on your ego. The same beige towel was wrapped around your shivering form. He scooped you up as if you weighed the same amount as a small child and carried you over to the sink, seating you on it.    

The tears blurred your vision, but you could see that he was getting first-aid supplies from underneath the vanity.

You supported the towel with one hand, wiping away the tears with the other. Silently, you watched him tend to your leg as if he was an expert. Certainly he’s had many encounters with injuries, you knew that all too well. 

In the earlier days when he’d decide to hit you a little harder than usual, your skin would break and bleed. Bruises however, he left up to you. 

“You know what to do.” He’d warn, and you would be in the mirror, blending your concealer and foundation to mask the discolouration.

“Imma get you something to eat.” You hadn’t noticed when he’d finished, but your leg was wrapped up nicely. 

He lifted you again, pushing through the door and making his way back to the room. The hall was darker this time so you didn’t get the chance to observe the layout. You knew there wasn’t much to see, but before entering the bathroom you noticed another corridor and at the end was a door, appearing as if it lead to the outside world. It was quite far and other doors lined the walls. A potential escape, but a risky one for sure. You didn’t know how many others were in this building or if those doors led to rooms like Erik’s. 

Your body fell gently onto the double-sized mattress. It was soft and smelled just like him. A scent that you started to forget.

Without another word, he left you alone in the room. It certainly wasn’t the Ritz Carlton, but you were grateful Erik did care about luxury. The desk to the left of the bed had a bottle of cocoa butter lotion, a jar of Vaseline and some other hair and beard products that you weren’t too familiar with. 

As much as you wanted to go on a hunger and hygiene strike, you knew Erik and Erik knew you. Though this situation was complete shit, you still appreciated finding the good in the bad.

The good, you didn’t have to be dirty or starving.

The bad, well… Erik of course.

Sighing, you limped over to the desk and grabbed the lotion to start moisturizing your body. Closing your eyes, you tried to drown out the reality of your situation. The smell of the cocoa butter danced through your nostrils taking you back to more simpler times when you first met Erik. 

“You gotta moisturize, silly.” You squeezed the brown bottle into your palm, taking Erik’s elbow with the other. 

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, “I ain’t even ashy.” The nineteen-year-old argued.

You narrowed your eyes at him, taking both elbows and pushing them beside each other. “Look!” You pointed into the mirror to show the stark contrast between his skin.

“Well my damn bad, (Y/N).” He huffed, watching you crack up. “Not like my daddy taught me anyway…”

You closed the cap of Vaseline, setting it back into its spot. You rummaged through the desk in search for something to put on, only to notice that a few familiar garments rested in the drawers. But not just his.

You felt sick, grabbing the oversized grey Aaliyah shirt you bought not even a year ago. There were times you felt as if you were going crazy, assuming that your roommate was the one stealing your clothes. In fact you had to confront her, but then she would question you back as to why the windows would be left ajar if neither of you were home.

Your skin crawled realizing that he was closer than you’d even been able to imagine. 

The door shut, causing you to jump. He stood there with two steaming bowls on a tray.

“Ramen noodles, chicken flavoured.” He said with indifference, noticing the horrified look on your face.

“What the fuck is this?!” 

He set the tray down on the edge of the bed and glared. “Excuse me?”

“Erik, do not do that right now. What is this!?” You held the shirt up so he could see better.

“You going crazy already? I ain’t even did nothing.”

“Do not gaslight me— I been looking for this shirt for months and its magically here? You were breaking into my apartment weren’t you?”

Amusement was evident on his face, “Surprise.”

“You’re fucking sick.” 

“Nah, you’ll be the sick one if you don’t stop all that bitching. Put the shirt on and come eat. I ain’t got time for this right now.”

“You don’t have time for this?! You made the choice to come back into my life, I was doing fine without y-“

An overwhelming amount of fear stopped you from completing your sentence once you noticed how dark his eyes appeared, that same look he gave before your skin bruised purple. Your head fell and you slipped the shirt over your head without another word.

His sharp eyes continued to watch, as if he was daring you to speak out of line again.

Your feet padded against the concrete, towards the end of the bed where the white bowl steamed. You picked it up and sat quietly. He did the same, only sitting opposite of you in a chair that felt so out of place in the room.

The broth burned as it hit your tongue, but it was better tolerated compared to the frigid temperatures you experienced mere moments ago. The two of you continued to eat in surprising silence. He always had something to say, but you assumed he was just as fatigued from the trip as you were. A lot happened in the span of… Well you didn’t exactly know how much time had passed but it had to be a little over a day or so.

You finished the noodles, leaving some of the broth behind. He took both bowls away and went out of the room. The itis and physical exhaustion all settled in, you collapsed onto the bed, pulling the blankets up to your nose. Stubbornness be dammed, the least the world owed you was a nice meal and a comfy bed. Perhaps playing the good girl role would be better in your favour. Erik was intelligent, and he knew all about gaslighting and manipulation. For now, you would take in the comfort because it will not stay this way, you are certain. 

The bed dipped and a heavy arm is slung over your waist. He didn't say anything and you don’t either. 

You really hoped that your family missing you at your grandma’s birthday would be the glimmer of hope to really save you from this nightmare. Or maybe you would just wake up and it would all be a dream.

Start/End: November 27 2023 - May 30, 2025

The fact that this story took me almost 2 years to write is insane!! LOL. OMG. University really ate up all my free time and writers block did not help either. It’s kinda funny that the bar scene and the ending after he almost drowned her was what I ended up writing in 2025. Everything else was concocted prior. I just wasn’t sure how I wanted this story to go. Looks like there will be a few more parts (that might take another 2 years to write idk). Also, yes she was nude in those last few scenes but obviously she is used to him seeing her naked. But anyways, thanks for reading!

[ruru195]

Can you write a fic about boris just wanting to play minecraft but everyone is bothering him😭🤞🏾

I Just Want to Play

It was a calm afternoon. The kind of perfect, golden silence where the sun pours through the window, snacks are piled high, and Boris had exactly one goal:

To play Minecraft in peace.

He slid on his headphones, cracked open a soda, and whispered to himself, “Let’s build the mega wolf statue today.”

His fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Until— BANG.

The door slammed open, and Cuphead stumbled in with two cats clinging to his shirt.

“BORIS,” he said dramatically, like he hadn’t just kicked the door off its hinges, “I need twenty bucks.”

Boris didn’t even blink. “Why.”

Cuphead held up Señor Fluffo like a prize. “Vet check-up. Probably. Or toys. Listen, that’s not the point. I know you’ve got cash. You always do.”

Boris squinted. “You want me to pay… for your cats.”

“They’re our cats,” Cuphead lied without shame, rubbing Pickles against Boris’s face.

“I am literally trying to play Minecraft.”

“And I’m trying to give my babies a better life! Priorities, wolf boy!”

Before Boris could respond, Mugman’s voice called from the hallway.

“CUP! LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

Mugman poked in with a juice box in hand, leaned on the doorframe, and gave Boris a teasing grin. “You back at the blocks again?”

Boris smiled slightly. “I’m building a mountain house this time.”

“Oh yeah?” Mugman walked in and flopped onto Boris’s bed. “Remember last time you tried that and got lost in your own staircase?”

“That was a design choice,” Boris mumbled.

“Uh-huh,” Mugman said, sipping his juice.

Then—because peace is a myth—Bendy entered next, holding a to-do list longer than a scroll.

“What are you doing?” Bendy asked like an annoyed older brother.

Boris turned slowly. “Playing. Minecraft.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s fun?”

Bendy frowned. “Why don’t you do something productive instead? Read. Practice. Take notes for the next quest. Finish the maintenance report—”

“Minecraft is a mental health exercise,” Boris declared.

Bendy arched an eyebrow. “Is blowing up creepers therapy now?”

“Yes,” Boris said firmly.

Bendy sighed and left with a muttered, “You better not blow up your grades too.”

Finally, blessedly, the door clicked shut.

Boris sighed with relief, turned back to his monitor— And jumped when Felix’s voice crackled through his laptop speakers.

“Boris.”

“GAH—Felix?!”

“I noticed you’re online,” Felix said through the team group call. “I was researching—wait. Are you playing a pixelated mining game?”

Boris groaned. “Don’t start—”

“Games like this deteriorate cognitive function,” Felix said primly. “You should be reading about the history of architecture, not stacking digital cubes.”

“I am literally building a gothic cathedral.”

There was a pause. Then:

“…Well, send me a screenshot when you finish. I want to assess the symmetry.”

Felix left the call.

Boris just stared at his poor untouched block of cobblestone.

Then a hand reached over his shoulder and dropped a cookie in front of him.

Mugman.

“I got us snacks,” Mug said with a grin. “Move over. I’m gonna help you build that cathedral—and make it cursed.”

Boris chuckled. “Fine. You place the lava this time.”

They scooted close together, controllers in hand, Minecraft booted, chaos ready.

Cuphead ran past the door yelling about Fluffo being in the toaster.

Bendy could be heard sighing loudly down the hall.

Felix sent a follow-up message about calculating load-bearing walls.

But Boris?

He was finally happy.

Because sometimes, the best therapy was Minecraft… And playing it with your best friend.

[blizzardowl007]

My Ranking of the Phantom Thieves

Apologies for the very long wait, I was so drained from playing P5R that I decided to take a break.

Now remember this will include P5, P5R, P5S, and P5T that means all the playable characters from those games will be ranked.

I will also like to mention that I love all the characters in these games but I do like certain characters over others.

This will also include spoilers if you have played all of the games listed above so if you have not played them or seen a playthrough of it then I suggest you leave watch a playthrough then comeback.

We are starting from the bottom and going to the top. Remember this is just my opinion if you don't like it that's fine.

14. Makoto Nijima - Queen

I think she is a good character, I just don't think the way she became a phantom thief makes sense. She was being pressured by her principal and sister to be a perfect student/person by getting good grades and go to a good school. Which then somehow turns into "I want to help my sister with a very dangerous criminal with other criminals because I don't want to disappoint her." Kaneshiro had nothing to do with at all until Makoto went to find him. I am not saying that Kaneshiro's palace doesn't make sense to the plot what I am saying is that Makoto being there doesn't make sense. I think Makoto should have been a later in plot that connects with either Sae or maybe even the Principal if he didn't die since the Principal knew what a lot people were doing and had a connection to Shido. It would have made more sense in my opinion if that happened. Overall I like her as a character but the reason and how she joined at that point in the game makes no sense to me.

13. Morgana - Mona

Morgana is also a pretty good character I used him a lot during my playthrough, but I didn't like his "arc" if that is what you want to call it. I think Morgana being a part of Velvet Room is a good idea I just don't think it was executed correctly. That could have dropped more subtle hints throughout the game like Morgana seeing blue butterflies or the farther you went into mementos the more of the door to the Velvet room Morgana can see. I also think Morgana being a car is a cool idea but I also think that he should have been able to change to other vehicles. And before you say that it depends on that person's cognition or the cognition of the people you know how is it could be for Futaba to send a post on the Internet talking about cats turning into certain vehicles and people making memes out of it.

Morgana's potential is what drops him from being any higher than this.

12. Toshiro

Now Toshiro is from Tatica. I love his character throughout the whole game. Considering this game is mainly about him and another character (who will be on here later) he has a great arc from the beginning to the end of the game. The only reason why he is this low is because I like the characters who will be higher on this list better. He goes from hating the phantom thieves to tolerating them to being good friends and saving the world with them.

11. Futaba Sakura - Oracle

I love Futaba so much she is such a gremlin. She is very high up here because I love the idea of her palace coming from a place of grief and blame on herself. I also like the relationship she has with Sojiro the father-daughter dynamic that have is very cute. She also just reminds me a lot of my sister. So maybe I am a little biased.

10. Ann Tamaki - Panther

And Ann starts off our top ten! Just like Morgana I used Ann for a lot of the game. I liked that even though without her parents or very many friends she still was happy with her best friend Shiho. Then once Ann found out what Kamoshida did to Shiho, she wanted to kill him because he hurt her best friend. That will always stick with me. I was also a big fan of her confidant story with the other model girl being jealous of the other models but Ann in the end forgives her.

9. Sumire Yoshizawa - Violet

I actually like Sumire's character throughout the story. You very little about her besides that her sister died and she was a gymnast. Then you get to the third semester and you learn all this stuff about her and her past and despite all of it she still tries to be happy after everything. In strikers I believe someone mentions that Sumire went to a gymnastics training camp for the summer or something like that. She is trying to keep her promise to her sister that she will be the best in the world for the both of them.

8. Yusuke Kitagawa - Fox

Now while I didn't use him much in my P5R playthrough, I did use him a lot in Tatica. Yusuke is a quiet and cold character but once you get to know him better through the story plus his confidant he is really just a big artistic dork/weirdo. Yusuke and Futaba are very similar by the fact that they are introverts it's just they need other people or each other to bring out their weird/goofy side. Yusuke also brings some good points to the table when it comes to strategy. I also just like his love for lobsters.

7. Erina

Erina is the other character from Tatica she is the representation of Toshiro's rebellion in the form of his old friend from middle/high school (I can't quite remember which one it is) Erina is very selfless and cares about everyone the group meets throughout the game. She tries he best to protect everyone from danger. She is very optimistic always hoping for the best outcome which is something that I can relate to.

6. Joker

Joker is one of the better main characters I see. Since I think a lot of his personality comes the choices that you the player makes I didn't want to put him in the top five but I didn't want him below Ann so here we are. Joker no matter what you choose is a big showoff and an overall dork.

5. Goro Akechi - Crow

Akechi is such a passive aggressive person. He also is very intelligent being able to fool almost everyone that he was a good person and not a murderer. His conversations with Joker about what true justice is also made love him even more. Actually all of his conversations with Joker are just good.

4. Haru Okumura - Noir

I like how she loves plants and wants to start a better restaurant with her company. Haru is very shy and quiet but also very compassionate. I like that she took care of Morgana even though at the time she had no clue how Morgana got there in the first place. I also like in some of the strikers dialogue that Haru is also somewhat scary.

3. Ryuji Sakamoto

Ryuji made it this far because he is the goat. He truly had everyone's back during everything. I mean he was the first to figure everything out (sorta) during the third semester and also blocked an attack from an out of control persona. He was a real one day one of the game. Bro even sacrificed himself in Shido's palace just so everyone else could escape. Ryuji is the best member out of the OG Phantom Thieves

2. Sophia - Sophie

I loved Sophia in Strikers. She wanted to be humanity's best companion. Which she succeeded and if anyone tells me otherwise well you're wrong. She is so sweet and just wants to know everything about emotions so she can be a better companion. She learns that there are good and bad people and how the world is not a great place. She understands and still wants to be humanity's companion.

1. Zenkichi Hasegawa - Wolf

I am going to be honest I did not expect Zenkichi to make it this far. I was certain he was going to be top 5 but when I thought about it seemed right to put him here. Zenkichi aka Gramps for the rest of this rant is honestly what I expected when he was introduced. He is reliable and tries to keep the others in the right mindset. He is a dad and wants to make sure his daughter is safe but he also works for law enforcement so he still needs to do things by the book. All in all he tries his best especially for his daughter he wanted to find the man who killed his wife and has being doing that for years. He wanted justice for everyone who got affected by EMMA not just his daughter. I think that is what makes me like him so much.

Thank you for letting me rank the Phantom Thieves. Next time I post I will be ranking the Palaces, Jails, and Kingdoms from each P5 game.

Blizz out!

[miniherodesktales]

Sick Days

It was Tuesday morning, a time Lister usually avoided by sleeping until mid-afternoon, but not today. Today he had chores and sick crew mates to care for.

'Again, Bob?! Seriously, don't!'

Chore one: free Bob the Scutter from the toilet. Remind him that there is no treasure down there. That was a lie.

Lister hoses the Scutter down in the shower and finishes just as the alarm started blaring.

Chore two: put the fire out. Cat doesn't like his pancakes being all "flamey". Curry sauce is good at dousing the flames. A little ketchup sweetens them up.

Even when ill the Cat looks elegant, reclining on the sofa in a pink silk dressing-gown and matching slippers.

'I want salmon, bud,' he rasps. 'And milk in a saucer with a gold straw.'

'You've just eaten.'

'Gotta keep my strength up.' The Cat coughs weakly. 'I feel really bad. My eyes are growing weak. I think I'm really going...'

Lister's watch starts beeping.

'Fine! Just give me 10 minutes.'

'Don't be long!' The Cat opens a magazine.

Chore 3: Ignore Kryten

'I'm sorry I'm not well enough to help with the daily chores, sir, I feel terrible.'

'It's fine, Kryten. Stop going on.'

'Very well.'

'....Well?'

'Well what, sir?'

'What did you call me for?'

'Just to say sorry, sir.'

'That's it? Kryten, I've just ran down the corridor to help you!'

'Oh, alright, I just wanted to make sure that you've washed the mop heads correctly. Because if you don't use the right setting on the machine they shed, sir, they shed everywhere.'

'I have to go check on Rimmer!'

Chore 4: Calm Rimmer down

Ion storms had a strange effect on the hologram. Some storms would leave him a foul mood, while this one...

Lister stumbled against the wall as Rimmer hugged him tightly. He had leapt down from the top bunk and was now firmly latched onto Lister.

'Welcome back, welcome back, welcome back!' he sang. 'I missed you, Dave!'

Lister smiles wearily as he pulls himself free.

'Did you get any sleep at all?' he asked.

'How could I when everything is so wonderful and amazing and exciting? Why won't let me out? I can help. I can help with everything!'

'You know why. Because right now you're completely loopy.'

'But I'm bored!'

'Did you do the jigsaw?'

'Yes! But was too easy.'

Lister glances at the JMC medical standard issue subtle cognitive test jigsaw. A simple 10 piece puzzle of a sad looking holographic cat designed to help assess the mental capabilities of holograms whacked out by ion storms. The cat was crying, a single tear drop rolling its face.

Rimmer had neatly stacked the pieces into a tower and then dribbled honey all over it. It was topped with one of those paper novelty umbrellas silly people have in drinks.

'You might need another day off,' Lister concluded. 'Go to bed, go to sleep.'

'No! I want to go dancing! Come dancing with me! Your eyes are so beautiful.'

Another bear hug. Lister tries to push him towards the bunks.

'You're sick. I have chores.'

'I feel incredible! I have so much energy! Don't leave me!'

'Sorry.'

'I love you.'

'I love you too, but right now you're not in your right mind.'

Suddenly Rimmer's mood shifts with the storm.

'I hate you!' he snarls. 'I love-hate you! I hate that so much!'

'That's my man. Be back later.'

Chore 101: Sleep

Much, much later, Lister drags his feet back to the back room. Rimmer is fast out on the sofa. The room was a terrible mess, with books, clothes, mugs, and video games flung everywhere, but it's a relief to see him resting, a good sign that he was finally in the recovery stage.

Lister covers him over with the weighted blanket.

Rimmer stirs.

'I said something...' he mumbles thickly, words slurred. 'I said I hated you...sorry...'

Lister smooths back his hair. 'Not to me. You must have dreamt it.' He kisses Rimmer's cheek. 'Back to sleep. You'll have a migraine tomorrow.'

Rimmer holds onto his hand. 'Stay.'

Lister squeezes his hand back. 'Okay.'

[silvertyger872-blog]

So i was doing a little sketch comic for more maya story stuff, (moved beyond hawaii stuff but not in the sketch ideas i have) and i know that there is talk in the game about characters getting stronger (both in their belief of themselves as well as physically). anyway i like the thought that they gain some weird abilities from being within the cognitive world for extended periods of time. (especially since i explore every corner of the map). and it's not like it comes up much out of the metaverse as it does within, like obviously they aren't casting fireballs and shooting nukes irl. however....

the example I had for my sketch was that some people even ryuji can't hear Ann sneak up on them. so now I have to think of other metaverse users... legally.

Ann - Completely silent steps. (like a cat or panther)

Morgana - you know how cats always land on their feet, or how squirrels can fall from like any height and not die... he has that.

Ryuki - I wanna say he's fast, but cause he hasn't been training his running he doesn't have the endurance to do it for long. ie. a flash of lightning.

Yusuke - I was thinking that he would be an impressive pickpocket, could shuffle cards and genuinely has good slight of hand. (a great thief like a fox)

Makoto - Now on one hand making it so that makoto has great strength would be cool and good, I think what suits her best would be to give her technical proficiency.

-You give her any item and she can figure out how to use it in minutes; rubik's cube? done. firearm? easy.

-whether it is just solving a problem or making something into a weapon, she can figure it out which makes her even more terrifying. Futaba - since she's mostly support, I think it'd be cool (and ironic since she doesn't fight) for her to have weirdly fast healing.

Haru - I desperately want her to have some sort of strength which opposes her normal appearance, though that could be why she wears such a soft chunky sweater.

- but i feel like a natural guile, almost like charm-speak. not that she uses it, or knows how.

Kasumi - makes her quite a bit more flexible and graceful. (she has bless magic so aiming like a soft angelic vibe for her movement)

I haven't got the last one yet (i assume it's akechi based on fanart and stuff) so i'll add them after i learn more. I wouldn't say they are full on super powers or anything. but it's something that's a little off putting, ya know?

I don't have one in mind for maya either but that's an issue for later, maybe it's just not being overtly suspicious? idk