#I might have gotten more than a little nerd-sniped here

[furbyfubar]

I feel like this graph of the rate of left-handedness was also (somewhat) relevant here as it’s the go to example to show why the panic over kids “turning” more LGBTQ is ridiculous. When the data for people born in 1942 came in someone could have looked at the data from the (then) past 30 years and concluded that [*pause while I spend way too much time to plot an extended trend line in photoshop*] in 2327 everyone would be left-handed!

It’s possible that I might have gotten a little bit sidetracked by finding the graph from an actual research paper on left-handedness instead of the meme version typically shared. I was about to say that it’s impressive that since left-handedness would only reach 100% by the year 2327 and the LGBTQ gets there by 2047, this implies that the acceptance of LGBTQ people is rising much faster than the acceptance for being left-handed did. But this is of course a nonsense conclusion, even if we’re ignoring the bullshit extrapolation that’s going on in both cases. Because it’s looking at the rise in percentage points, and what we should care about here is the percentage of people in those groups that are (no longer) suppressed from being counted as belonging to those groups. Because both these graphs are really showing both the social acceptance of these groups as well as the real percentage of the population that identify as belonging to these groups. Since left-handedness flattened out and held steady at ~11.5% of the population, this only means that the “real” rate of left-handedness is likely at least 11.5%. (After all, there is somehow still some suppression of letting kids being left-handed going on in the world.) But while the social shift in acceptance of LGBTQ people in the USA has been impressive for the past 10 years, if the “real” rate of LGBTQ folks is higher than 11.5%, then that graph would reach 100% quicker even if the increase in acceptance was (hypothetically) the same as that seen for left-handedness in the middle of the century.

But yeah, this is assuming linear growth of percentage points. Or, wait, that’s at least what I assumed for the left-handedness graph. I just realize I didn’t double-check the calculations of the twitter account “Universal Life Church”. That should clearly be done. OK, so their tweet made the 19th of February of 2022. I’m going to round that down to “2022″. Per their tweet 7.1% of Americans identify as LGBTQ by then. So to reach 100% there would need to be an increase of 92.9 percentage points. 2047 was 25 years in the future from 2022, so again, assuming a linear growth rate of percentage points, we’d need a growth of 92.9/25 =  3.716 percentage points per year. Hang on, 2 * 3.716 > 7.1, so they can’t even have been looking at the data from the past two years for this to make sense, otherwise less than 0% would have identified as LGBTQ two years before? What gives? I’ve googled a bit and I’m pretty sure I’ve found the data reported. The chart below was found here: https://dataviz.nbcnews.com/projects/20220216-out-chart/ so the date in the URL matches the date of the tweet, and the source is listed as Gallup.

The linked graph lets you hover to also see the numbers, and they are: 2012: 3.5% 2013: 3.6% 2014:  3.7% 2015: 3.9% 2016: 4.1% 2017: 4.5% [there seems to be a gap in data for 2018 and 2019?] 2020: 5.6% 2021: 7.1% OK, so are they just extrapolating for the growth from 2020 to 2021?? That would be a +1.5 points in a year, so by 2047 we’d get: 2047-2021 = 26 years. With a 1.5 point increase per year would give us 7.1 + (1.5 * 26) = 46.1% of Americans identifying as LGBTQ by 2047. So, unless something has gone very wrong 46.1% is not 100%. So I think we can safely assume that this isn’t a linear growth rate being assumed in the tweet. Or they just can’t do basic calculations. But it of course doesn’t have to be a linear growth, in fact the graph of that decade doesn’t look linear at all. So what other clues to their methodology can we find in the tweet? They say the percentage has doubled over the past 10 years. From 3.5% to 7.1% is indeed roughly a doubling. But from 2012 to 2021 is 9 years, not 10, so this is rounding in favor of the straights surviving longer in both cases. But lets start out by ignoring that rounding and see if the numbers now work out. How many time do we have to double 7.1 to get to 100? I’ve studied enough calculus to know that this is a situation where I’d need calculus to get the exact answer. But it’s also been long enough since I studied calculus that I don’t remember how to do it. But this is napkin math at best anyways, so we can just try plugging in values and see what fits the equation of 7.1 * (2^x) = 100. That is, “x is the number of times we have to double 7.1 to get 100″. Just plugging in some values for x gives us that: 7.1 * (2^3) = 56.8 7.1 * (2^4) = 113.6 So x must be between 3 and 4. A further binary search shows that x = 7.1 * (2^3.81604) = 100.000196497, so x ≈ 3.81604. So we need 3.81604 decades of doubling after 2021 to reach full queer saturation.  (3.81604 * 10) + 2021 = 2059.1604 ≈ 2059. OK, so that still missed their result of 2047, but at least it’s closer. So perhaps they didn’t round in their calculations. If we don’t round 9 years to 10 year that’s (3.81604 * 9) + 2021 =  2055.34436  ≈ 2055, so still not a quick enough growth. So am I going to have to go back and look at that rounding of 3.5 to 7.1 being “about a doubling” as well? Well crap, I guess I will, because now I really want to know if someone at that church church really did calculus to calculate a conclusion that’s still so obviously wrong! OK, so this time let’s look at what yearly (exponential) growth rate gets 3.5 to 7.1 in 9 years. Ie, 3.5 * x^9 = 7.1 Duh, I just remembered that I can of course just plug this equation into Wolfram Alpha. That’s what I should have done above as well! It gives me that x ≈  1.08176, meaning that the USA was getting 8.176% more LGBTQ per year from 2012 to 2021. So, if the current trend holds, and we add in the 26 years of queerification from 2021 until 2047 and get the gayness predicted for 2047 by this bullshit model and we get: 7.1 * 1.08176^26 ≈ 54.785%

So something’s gone wrong here as well. Because 7.1*1.08176^x=100 gives x= 33.6569. With the LGBTQ growth rate 1.08176 that the graph from the Gallup poll shows, and again, if the current trend holds, we wouldn’t reach the 100% LGBTQ utopia until the middle of 2054.

So yeah, not only is the extrapolation in that tweet insane to start with, it also hasn’t done the math correctly when it extrapolated. Or if it has, they have either cherry-picked what years they’ve looked at or somehow assumed some growth rate that’s neither linear nor exponential.  So yeah if you’ve read this far, here’s another xkcd strip relevant to what just happened to me:

That's not how demographics work.

[andypantsx3]

statistically significant | 4 | bakugou/reader

length: 23,490 words | 7 chapters

summary: You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.

tags: romance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, m/f threats of violence, problematic behavior

For someone so loud and obnoxious, Bakugou was proving incredibly difficult to track down.

You spent the next few days hunting all over Miruko’s agency for him, an apology sitting uncomfortably in the back of your mouth, but no matter where you went, the hero was nowhere to be found. You prowled inexhaustibly through the fluorescent halls of the underground floors, and poked around curiously amongst the messy piles of paperwork on the business floor. You’d even switched up your schedule in case he was specifically timing his entrances and exits around you, and had taken to lingering suspiciously around the training rooms like some kind of leery pervert, eyeing every blonde head of hair with a little too much interest.

The more you thought about it, though, the more you realized Bakugou wasn’t exactly the type to hide and avoid confrontation, so eventually you moved on to interrogating Mina and Kaminari on Bakugou’s whereabouts. Both of them claimed not to know anything, and no one else seemed to have anything more helpful to say either, nothing more than “I don’t know, haven’t seen him.” It was reaching the point where you were honestly considering filing a missing persons report if he didn’t turn up soon.

It wasn’t until Friday morning that you finally glimpsed a head of messy, ash-blonde hair stalking down the hall to one of the training rooms. You all but fell out of your chair and launched yourself out of the surveillance room after him, shoes slapping loudly in the hall.

You weren't exactly being sneaky, but you didn't expect Bakugou to react the way he did. As soon as you got close, he stiffened and whirled on you. You caught a flash of red eyes and white teeth bared in a snarl before the hallway tipped out of focus and your back hit the wall, Bakgou’s hand clenched in the scruff of your shirt.

“The fuck are you doing?” Bakugou demanded, crimson gaze searching you over. A scowl sat heavily on his mouth, and you noticed that the corner of it was bruised. A long scratch ran across the bridge of his nose, tapering off over one high cheekbone. The rest of him looked untouched--he was clean, and dressed in simple, dark training clothes again that hugged the planes of his chest and strong thighs.

You stared up at him, shocked to find yourself against a wall again. “You’re--you’re here.”

A blonde eyebrow went up. “I fucking work here, nerd.”

You suppressed an eye roll. “That’s not what I meant, Bakugou. I’ve been looking for you--I need to talk to you.”

“So you thought you’d charge me like a fucking rhinocerous?” he demanded. His fingers unclenched from your shirt, however, relaxing against your collarbone. You fought down a shiver as his callouses caught on your skin.

“Don’t run up behind a hero like that, idiot. Especially after a mission,” he growled.

You eyed the cut across his nose speculatively. “Is that where you were this week?”

“That’s none of your damn business, is it, you nosy little shit?” he asked, something like a self-satisfied smirk pulling at the edge of his mouth.

You let your head fall back against the wall with a thunk, sighing. You’d forgotten how annoying he was in the near week you hadn’t seen him. It was going to make apologizing so fucking frustrating.

“Can you please just not make everything so difficult for once?” you asked absently, trying to dredge up enough humility to get on with your apology.

Bakugou let out a grunt, but shifted closer, one very intimidating bicep coming up to frame your head. Your mouth suddenly went very dry.

“You’re one to fucking talk,” Bakugou said, staring at you with intent.

Mina’s comments on his romantic preferences flitted to the surface of your mind in a wild flurry. Your face heated, and you desperately pushed the memories down. As much as you wanted to snipe at him with an unexpected comeback on what he really thought of women who didn’t take his shit, you did not want him to know you’d been discussing his inclinations. Besides, that would be presumptuous. Just because he had a thing for mouthy girls in general did not mean that preference extended to under-caffeinated and irritable data scientists.

You pushed yourself away from him, pressing harder into the wall in an attempt to create space. “Look, I didn’t come here to fight with you, okay?”

Those crimson eyes watched you impassively.

“Then what the fuck did you want, nerd?” he asked, leaning slightly closer where you’d just managed to create an inch of extra space. You caught that scent again, hot and butter-sweet in your nose, like burnt caramel, and tried your hardest to ignore exactly how symmetrical his face was up close.

You suppressed an eye twitch. What was his thing about walls and intimidating people? And why was he so close to you? Had this man never heard of personal space?

“Actually, I came to apologize,” you said haltingly, looking up at him. If you hadn’t been watching him carefully, you might not have caught the minute widening of his eyes, the very slightest downturn of his blonde brows.

“What?” he rasped.

“You heard me,” you insisted. “I didn’t mean that you were--uh--weak. When I said I would help the other day. That’s the opposite of what I meant.”

Bakugou’s mouth pulled into an immediate snarl. “Fuck you. I don’t need your pity. I can handle myself fucking fine.”

You huffed. “I don’t pity you. That’s not what I meant.”

“If you fucking think--”

“I don’t!” you yelped, seeming to startle him. “Can you just listen for ten seconds? I’m trying to say something here.”

“Fucking obviously--”

“Bakugou, shut up!” you demanded. “This whole situation isn’t what you think it is, okay? I--I only made a bet with you in the first place because I thought you could jump rank, alright? When I say I’m helping you, I mean that I’m giving you insight because I firmly believe that you are capable of pulling this off. I....honestly, I wouldn’t have even made the damn bet if I didn’t actually want you to try this, because everyone knows you can do literally anything if you want it enough. Obviously you’re going to win.”

He was staring now, and it was all you could do not to shrink under the intensity of his gaze.

“So before you get your panties all in a twist over the fact that I used the word help, just remember that it doesn’t mean I think you’re incapable. I think you’re the most capable out of everyone here. And if you would stop being such a fussy baby for five frigging minutes, we could get back to retraining your habits so you could prove that you are!” you finished, huffing a little with the force of your anger. You forced your fists to uncurl from where they had balled up at your side.

Bakugou watched you carefully, unnervingly silent. You could feel his gaze almost like a touch where it brushed over you, and you fixed your eyes resolutely below his face, not wanting to look at him. You shifted uncomfortably against the cold plaster of the wall, waiting for the dam to break. Where was the screaming? When was it coming?

To your horror, a smirk pulled at the corner of Bakugou’s mouth instead.

“You think I’m the most capable, huh?” he asked. His arm shifted closer.

A flush washed through you with startling speed, heating your cheeks. “Oh my god. Shut up.”

His smirk widened into a predatory smile, baring a pointed canine. “It’s okay. You can own up to your little crush on me, nerd.”

You stared at him in shock. “How is that what you took away from this conversation? I didn’t say that. How in the world would you think that, when all you do is shove me against walls and act like a ginormous baby?”

“You’d prefer I shove you against walls and do something else?” he asked, a blonde eyebrow raising.

Your mind blanked out, fuzzy with static for a moment. You fought down a tiny, traitorous shiver. What the hell was going on in his brain? And how in the actual fuck was this the turn the conversation was taking? All you had wanted to do was get him out of his snit fit so you could get back on track to obtaining software engineers. How had he gotten so off track?

“That’s not what I--! I mean, you--!” you babbled uselessly, freezing up when he shifted his arm. He watched you with obvious relish.

“Ugh, I think I prefer you when you’re screaming at me,” you groused.

Bakugou’s smirk turned wicked, and he opened his mouth to say something you were certain you absolutely did not want to hear. Panicking, you brought a hand up and shoved it over his mouth.

“Whatever is about to come out of there, just keep it to yourself,” you commanded. “Now you’ve wasted enough time dicking around. We need to retrain your habits stat if you want to have enough time for everything to propagate in the model by the end of the month.”

A rough palm came up to yank your hand away from his face. “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not if you want any chance of actually winning the bet.”

Bakugou scoffed, but to your surprise, he didn’t outright dismiss you. His eyes roved over you for a few seconds more, before he pronounced imperiously, “Tell me your big plan then, nerd. I’ll decide if it’s worth my damn time.”

You sighed. It was probably too much to hope that he’d suddenly be totally amenable to everything after your big speech. He wouldn’t be Bakugou Katsuki if he didn’t make everything such a production. At least he was still here and listening, despite the front he was putting up. And the weird conversational detour he’d attempted to take.

“I was thinking you need team training,” you said lightly. “To get in the habit of sticking close by to other heroes, and to practice evaluating situations more slowly.”

He regarded you consideringly, scarlet eyes flicking over your face. “You want me to train with a bunch of these b-list fucking idiots?”

You suppressed another eye roll. “Teammates. I want you to train with your teammates, Bakugou.”

He made a dismissive noise. “As if. I’m not going near any of those annoying little shits.”

You eyed him speculatively, a thought forming in the back of your mind. “....What about annoying little shits that will go near you?”

He scowled. “What?”

You gestured past him, to the window of a nearby training room, where two familiar figures were darting around the space, throwing up middle fingers at each other as often as attacks. “I have some people in mind.”

Bakugou glanced over his shoulder. Enough of his face was in view for you to see the thunderous expression that overtook over his features as he regarded his friends.

When he turned back to you, he was growling. “No. Absolutely fucking not.”

“Heya Blasty!” Kaminari chirped over his shoulder, pausing when you’d opened the door to the training room. “And stats girl! Come to let a real hero show you how it’s done?”

He shifted up out of a crouch, scrubbing a hand through his hair. Sweat had dried in it, standing some of it on end like he’d been hit with his own lightning. Actually, judging from the singe marks all over his clothes, maybe he had.

“Shut the fuck up before I blow your brains right outta your skull,” Bakugou’s sharp tone issued from somewhere over your shoulder. You could hear debris crunching heavily under his boots, like he was stomping a little.

Mina’s wild pink curls peeked out from behind an overturned car. “Do I hear the dulcet tones of my sunshine boy, Bakugou Katsuki?”

A telltale round of crackling went off behind you, accompanied by a snarl. Mina just laughed, sliding out fully from her hiding place, looking completely unthreatened. “Relax, Blasty. No one’s around to question your tough guy image.”

Bakugou made a dismissive noise. “The fuck do you know.”

Mina made an amused humming noise. Her dark eyes found yours and she smiled conspiratorially. You were struck again by the mental image of Bakugou in makeup and had to suppress a wild laugh.

“Hey, quit it with the fucking face over there,” Bakugou barked, seeming to detect that mutual amusement was being shared at his expense. He surged past you to put his entire palm over Mina’s face. Mina only laughed louder, her peals of bright laughter muffled slightly in his hand. “I’ll fucking end you.”

Kaminari dismissed the two of them, golden eyes flicking over to you. He smiled boyishly. “So, stats girl. What brings you and your angry pomeranian here?”

“Hey, fuck you, pikachu,” Bakugou growled. Then, “You fucking--raccoon--did you just lick me?”

You bit down on a smile, glancing between Mina and Kaminari. It was unexpectedly cute, the way Bakugou was clearly outmatched by his chaotic friends. They seemed supremely unconcerned with the fact that he might actually follow through on his threats, if the way Mina was making kissing noises into his hand was any indication.

“I thought I’d ask if you guys would be willing to train with Bakugou. He needs...adjustments,” you said, making sure to steer clear of the word help. You’d said your apology, and it seemed like Bakugou understood now, but you didn’t want to muddy the waters any on that point.

“Aww, and you came to little old us?” Kaminari asked Bakugou. His tone did nothing to disguise his obvious glee.

“Fuck you, I didn’t come to you--”

“I did,” you pronounced, deciding to help Bakugou out a little. You weren’t going to get anywhere if he spent the whole afternoon flinging insults and insisting he didn’t need anything from Mina and Kaminari. “He has two areas he wants to retrain on. This afternoon I was thinking you could run a couple simulations where he has to stick close to you two instead of going off on his own to do whatever he wants.”

“I don’t go off and do whatever, you damn nerd, I finish the fucking fight--”

“Do you guys think you might be able to spare an hour or two?” you asked loudly. “I’m sure he’d be willing to return the favor for your retraining.”

Kaminari looked positively gleeful, and Mina’s unusual eyes sparkled curiously from over Bakugou’s broad hand. To your surprise, Bakugou didn’t disagree.

“If I get to play villain, I’m in!” Mina agreed, finally shaking Bakugou’s hand off. “I’m gonna melt your legs off,” she told him.

He scoffed. “Good luck trying without any damn arms.”

She made a kissy face at him. “Gonna be hard to come at me if you have to stick to Denki the whole time.”

“Hey,” Kaminari protested indignantly, but he was drowned out by Bakugou descending into an incredibly explicit rant full of choice invectives. This seemed to prompt both Mina and Kaminari to let loose their own shit talk--Mina's comments in particular so obscene and inventive they would make a frat boy blush. It took some prompting and several minutes before the three of them were coherent enough to discuss the training again.

When you eventually managed to reroute them, they drew up the terms of their practice--Bakugou couldn’t go further than fifty feet from Kaminari for the duration of the exercise, and he’d be docked points for every possible opportunity he had where he might have assisted Kaminari and instead went in for the kill on his own. You agreed to code something up quick to layer over the training footage, to identify when Bakugou strayed too far from Kaminari, or went for a shot himself. To make it stick, Mina also insisted that at the end of the exercise, if Bakugou had managed to lose more than ten points, he had to submit to a punishment of Mina and Kaminari's choosing. You shuddered to think of what that was.

Once the details were fully hashed out, you found yourself being immediately shepherded out of the training room by Bakugou. He ushered you along impatiently like a dog corralling a wayward sheep.

“I’m gonna let loose on these fucking clowns--don’t need your quirkless ass getting in the way,” he groused as he led you. This drew you up short at the threshold, and you gaped at him, eyes darting up to catch his.

You...hadn’t told him you were quirkless. In fact, you were sure you hadn’t discussed that with anyone here, not even Miruko. The fact wasn’t something that bothered you, but it also wasn’t the sort of thing you brought up all too often. So....how did Bakugou know?

His scarlet gaze flicked almost lazily over you, and he seemed to catch the unspoken question. Rubble crackled under his boots as he shifted his weight to one hip. “What? You think you’re the only one who’s done their research, brat?”

You felt your heartbeat stutter and then pick up, just the slightest bit. Done...his research? What exactly did that mean? And if he meant what you thought he meant, what was it he’d been trying to learn about you? And why did he need to know?

“Bakugou, what--?” you began, but he cut you off by raising one large hand and shoving you through the door. He leaned out after you, and you caught a hint of that burnt caramel scent again. Your mind fogged a little at his proximity.

“I’m gonna win the fucking bet,” he pronounced slowly, scarlet gaze cutting into you, “and then you’re in for it, nerd.”

You gawped up at him, unable to help the way your mouth hung open. Was he threatening you? And if yes, why was he looking so unusually calm about it? Where was the rage, the snarling and the spitting like a wet cat? And why was he looking at you like that?

Bakugou answered none of your questions, tossing you a wicked smirk instead. Then he turned and slammed the door closed on you, leaving you alone with a swirl of hazy, half-formed concerns.

What....the fuck had just happened?

[beelsnack]

Bad Influence - Beelsnack's 666 Follower Special!!

(Technically I'm over 666 - shoutout to the porn bots)

But seriously, holy shit, there's a lot of you. Thank you all so much for liking my stuff, and for interacting with me and sending me good vibes and all of that. I hope I can keep giving you guys quality work!!

And yes, I am a nerd and I consider 666 a milestone for a blog for a bunch of demons. No, I'm not sorry.

-----

Lucifer: He couldn’t help but wonder when the change had set in.

When the human first arrived in the Devildom, they had been humble and meek. If anyone complimented them, they deflected it with the mastery and resignation of someone who had been doing it for far longer than they should have. And if someone thanked them? You would think their entire world was dissolving around them.

But now?

He extended a gloved hand towards them as they descended the stairs. Tonight was one of the rare nights where they had the opportunity to be alone without one of his brothers tagging along, and they had been planning this date for nearly a week now. They slipped their hand in his without any of the hesitation they would have shown at first. They knew they deserved his reverence.

“You look radiant as always, my dear,” he curled his fingers around theirs as they reached the bottom step, bringing the backs of their knuckles to his lips. “Surely there is no star in the sky that could outshine you.”

They laughed - his theatrics always did amuse them. “You do have amazing taste, after all.”

He chuckled as well, guiding the two of them to the front door. “Of course. Do you think the Avatar of Pride would associate with anyone less than the best?”

“Definitely not,” the wind that came through the door when they opened it blew their hair away from their face, and Lucifer couldn’t help but preen at the fact that he had helped that quivering little animal grow into the proud swan that stood before him.

“Speaking of the best, where are we going for dinner?”

“Don’t worry, my dear,” he laughed as they made their way out into the night. “You deserve the world, and the world you shall get.”

“Unless ‘the world’ means a steak dinner, I’m not interested.”

Mammon: “Come on, don’t leave me hangin’ out here!”

The curtain covering the entrance to the changing room rustled, and Mammon heard a faint “Fine, fine, just give me a sec!” before it finally opened and out stepped the human.

Mammon always thought they looked good no matter what they were wearing, even if it was one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. Actually, especially if it was one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. But seeing them decked out in his fashion brand - one he had both designed and modeled - was definitely making him feel some type of way.

He let out a low whistle when they stopped in front of the chair he had seated himself in. The results of his own shopping spree were tucked haphazardly into a colorful assortment of bags at his feet, but the human had taken a bit longer than he did picking out their stuff. And damn, was he glad they did, because otherwise he wouldn’t get the chance to see them modeling his clothes.

It was a private fashion show, just for him.

The outfit itself was pretty simple. A black fitted tee beneath a cropped leather jacket, a pair of faded dark-blue skinny jeans, and a pair of black sneaks with a gold stripe going up the side. But the thing that brought the whole outfit together was the long necklace with a topaz pendent resting against their breastbone.

“Well?” they asked, giving him a spin before striking a pose before him. “What do you think?”

For a moment, he couldn’t speak. The human wearing his clothes...it was the next best thing to them walking around with “I Belong To Mammon” tattooed on their forehead.

“I, uh...I guess you...um,” he swallowed thickly. “Ya look alright, I guess.”

“That’s tsundere for ‘you look hot,’ right?” they grinned before spinning around to look in the mirror. “Man, this is a whole look! I have to have it!”

If this had been a few months ago, the human would have waffled back and forth about whether or not to buy anything. It didn’t matter how much they wanted something, it was almost like they just couldn’t do anything nice for themselves. There was being frugal, and then there was deprivation. Now, though, was completely different.

“I wonder if I should get some shades to go with?” they mumbled, looking themselves over in the mirror. “I think that would really pull it together, don’t you?”

“Just don’t go for the Ray Bans, it’s a fucking scam.”

Leviathan: "Come on, come on, come on…"

Very rarely was Levi the one watching someone else play games, unless it was a stream. And as mind-blowingly awesome it would be to watch the human stream one of his current faves, he definitely didn't want other people seeing how adorable they looked when they were focused.

They had come to him with absolute determination in their eyes, begging him to help them out. There were a limited amount of UR armor sets in the event, and they needed to get their hands on one. And, well, what kind of friend would he be if he didn't help them out?

(The fact that he already scored the armor is irrelevant.)

So, here they were, camped out in the pillow nest that they often made for themselves when gaming in his room, laser focused on the screen with Levi giving them guidance. The event level was brutal, but they were in the final hours, so it was crunch time.

"Okay, this boss is easy once you know the attack pattern. Four regular slashes, a jab, then you've got about five seconds to get behind a pillar before it uses the AOE."

"Gotcha."

Even then, it was a long battle, and they had used up most of their healing potions by the time the monster let out an anguished roar and disintegrated into a pile of bones. The human held their breath as they moved towards it to gather their loot.

"Yes!!"

They practically leaped out of the pillow nest in triumph. There, right on the top of the loot list in shimmering gold font, and the UR armor that they had been coveting.

"I got it! I got it!" they cheered. "Levi, I finally got it!"

"Hell yeah you did!" the two of them shared a crisp high five as the results of the campaign loaded on the screen. It was updating in real time, so they could watch as the final moments of the event ticked away.

Levi knew what they were looking for. Early on in the dungeon, another player had done them real dirty, sniping them from a few levels above and then taunting them over VC about how they would never get the armor now. So of course that only inspired the human to work harder, and here they were.

3...2...1

Event over. Quickly, the human scrolled up to the beginning of the list, checking the names of all the players who scored the armor.

Levi sat next to them, chewing his lip. What was that person's tag again? He didn't remember.

Suddenly, the human let out a snort that turned into a full-on giggle fit.

"They didn't get it!" they cackled like a hyena. "Serves them right, the jackass!"

Levi was pretty sure it wasn't a good idea to laugh at the misfortune of others. But, he knew better than anyone that spite was a hell of a motivator. When they had first gotten themselves isekai’d into the Devildom, they had let demons walk all over them, Levi had personally witnessed a lower-level demon shove them out of the way to get a sandwich they had been reaching for, and the human just stood there and let them take it. But they had grown to be a little more selfish, and if they wanted something, they were taking it.

And maybe, just maybe, seeing them like that turned him on just a little bit.

Satan: "You want to come and say that to my face?"

Satan stood there in stunned silence as the human spun on their heel to look the demons right in the eyes. They had their back to him, so Satan couldn't see the look on their face, but whatever it was made the two lesser demons flinch.

"Hey, come on, Human, we were just joking."

"Yeah, no need to get all worked up."

They scoffed, and Satan knew them well enough to know that they were rolling their eyes. "Is that right? So you don't think I'm a...what was it? A fleshy meat sack who thinks they can get what they want by sleeping with the strongest demons in the Devildom?"

Another flinch. Satan chuckled to himself.. Did those morons really think they wouldn't hear them? Humans might not have super-heightened senses but they weren't deaf.

A small crowd had begun gathering around them, waiting to see what would happen. It wasn't every day one of the human exchange students squared up to a demon.

"You've got some nerve," the human drew themself up to their full height - which, admittedly, was laughable compared to most demons - and crossed their arms. "What do you think Lord Diavolo would do to demons who messed with his exchange students?"

"I believe there's a special spot in the Royal Torture Chambers for such demons," Satan came to stand next to them, and the other demons downright cowered. "If I recall correctly, there's an Iron Maiden down there."

"Ooh, cool!"

"Alright, we get it!" One of the demons cried, throwing their hands up defensively. "We're sorry!"

Satan opened his mouth to spit a curse at them, but the human beat him to it. "I've got Lord Diavolo on speed dial, so start running."

The two demons turned tail and booked it down the hallway, nearly crashing into Beelzebub as he turned the corner with a sandwich hanging out of his mouth. He stood frozen for a moment before he swallowed and turned to Satan and the human.

"Were those two bothering you guys?"

Satan cast a sideways look at the human before a wicked grin spread across his face.

"They took care of it."

Asmodeus: "Well, someone's feeling bold tonight."

The door had barely shut behind the two of them before the human was pressing Asmo against it, mouthing at his neck as their hands traveled down the front of his silk blouse. He shuddered gleefully as their breath ghosted against his ear lobe.

"I can't help it," they murmured, fingers skirting just beneath the hem of his shirt. "You looked so good out there."

"I look good all the time, darling," he hummed, reaching up to grab a fistful of hair to gently pry them away from his neck.

"You looked especially good," they huffed as he let go of their hair. "Dancing like that, I could barely wait until we got home."

"Aw, sweetheart, you should have come to join me." Asmo rolled his hips in an echo of the dancing he had been doing at the club, delighting when he felt them shiver against him. "We could have put on a show that would have captivated the whole Devildom."

"I don't think the staff would appreciate it."

"They would be too busy watching to care," Asmo giggled, diving down to capture their lips in a quick and dirty kiss. "Although I can't say I'm not thrilled to be getting a private show."

Beelzebub: “Man, this place has the best barbecue!”

Dinner dates were a pretty common thing for the two of them. Over the course of the human’s stay in the Devildom, the two of them had figured out which restaurants would put up with Beel’s appetite and which would visibly freeze when the Avatar of Gluttony entered the establishment. The Hellfire Barbecue was one of the good places, probably because Beel made sure to tip really well, and one time personally went into the kitchen to tip the chef. Or, well, he tried, anyway. He ended up giving the money to the human and told them to give it to the chef because he knew if he went in there he would devour everything. But the sentiment was still there.

Beel smiled down at the human as they wiped the barbecue sauce off of their face. “You finished all of it this time.”

“Huh?” they glanced at their plate. “Oh. Yeah, I guess I did.”

“You usually don’t.”

“I was really hungry, I guess.” they grinned sheepishly.

Beel distinctly remembered the human telling him that they always tried to save some food for later. Whether it was being resourceful or because they had a weird sense of shame around eating too much, Beel didn’t know, but he had never pressed in case it was a sensitive issue. But, seeing them indulge themselves and looking genuinely full and satisfied made him happy. And was probably his main motivation for taking them out to dinner so often.

Well, that and getting his own food.

“I like watching you eat.” Beel said, waving to the owner as he passed by.

“You...like watching me eat.” the human repeated, looking somewhat confused.

“You look so happy when you eat good food,” Beel smiled. “I like seeing you happy.”

Belphegor: Oh, how the tables have tabled.

“Come on, I don’t feel like dealing with Lucifer’s lectures today.” Belphie grumbled, tugging half-heartedly on the human’s arm that was flung around his waist. “We should get up soon.”

For all of his complaining, Belphie didn’t move. If anything, he snuggled down deeper into the bed. He loved when the human agreed to have a sleepover in the attic with him. They got uninterrupted cuddle and nap time, since nobody dared to come up to the attic except Beel. And Beel was almost always welcome to join the cuddle puddle.

“Five more minutes…” the human mumbled sleepily, burying their face into Belphie’s neck. The soft, contented sigh they let out tickled, and he squirmed a little.

“Aren’t you usually the one waking me up?” Belphie nuzzled his nose against their hair.

“But it’s comfy here,” they whined. “I don’t want to get up.”

“You just don’t want to do the presentation in class today.”

“Your point?”

Belphie laughed. “Can’t say I disagree.”

“I did all the hard work anyway,” they shrugged. “We’ll make Mammon give the report.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

The two of them settled back down into the nest of pillows. The human had almost drifted back to sleep when Belphie brought his nose down to theirs to nuzzle them together.

“You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”

“You’re cute when you shut up and let me sleep.”

[thatsamericano]

Magnus and the Football Team in this Fic

So, I am thinking of beefing up the presence of Magnus (human Denmark) in this fic, because I picture him as Alfred’s closest friend on the football team, so he’d eat lunch with Alfred and his other friends and do things with him occasionally the way his other friends do. In my head, Magnus was this huge, tall freshman playing another sport in the spring of his freshman year, and the football coach saw him and was like “okay, this kid could make an amazing defensive tackler.” He starts trying to recruit him, and Magnus is like “That’s very flattering, dude, but I just moved here from Denmark and don’t know anything about American football.” He plays on the JV level the next fall after doing a lot of intensive training, likes it, and is good enough to make it onto the varsity squad in his junior year. Right now, he’s a senior and one year older than Alfred.

The reason Alfred and Magnus became friends is that they’re both outsiders on the team. Magnus is from another country and really likes American football now that he’s started playing it, but he wasn’t into it his entire life the way most of the guys on the team are. Alfred was into football his whole life and is a very good player (he’s the head quarterback in his junior year after the previous guy graduated), but he’s also a huge frickin’ math and science nerd. I might not get into Magnus’s sexuality in the story, because it doesn’t really matter, but Alfred is clearly not interested in the cheerleaders or popular girls most of the guys on the team are, so it’s generally assumed he’s gay and just not out yet. Some guys on the team might be a little homophobic, but they don’t actively say anything to Magnus (if he is into guys) or Alfred, and only a couple would ever get weird about stuff like showering or changing in front of them. For most of the team, they don’t have an issue with their sexuality, but it’s another way Alfred (and/or Magnus) might not fit in with them. Most of the team are friendly to Alfred and Magnus during practices and games, respect their skills on the football field, and will invite them along to all team hangouts like the one some guy named Bryan was talking about in the story before the asshole OC revealed he was going on a date with Savino that night. But Alfred and Magnus are not someone these guys would choose to hang out with socially or have lunch with.

About the asshole OC: Dylan is openly gay, and that might gross out some of the guys on the team, but he’s also the coach’s son, so he’ll get suckups trying to be his friend just because of that and get more leeway from the guys who are kind of homophobic because of who he is. He’s basically a stereotypical asshole football player from a high school movie, except that he’s gay. He treats the guys he hooks up with like shit (and is predatory in that he generally goes after naive freshman when he’s a senior and makes it seem like he’s super into them but then ghosts them and hooks up with someone new within a week), bullies less popular students for the hell of it, and tries to con “nerds” like Kiku (who he might have tried to do this with because he is smart, quiet, and Japanese, and this dude might be low-key racist too) into doing his schoolwork and cheats when he takes tests so he won’t get scholastic probation. He also takes credit for whenever the football team does well like he “won the game” all by himself and is quick to blame other people when they lose. A lot of people on the team, including Alfred and Magnus, don’t like him because he’s a jerk to them and an all-around asshole to other people. They also resent how the coach, teachers, and the principal let Dylan get away his BS because of who he is and don’t like the way he’s presenting a bad, stereotypical image of a football player to the entire school (especially the nicer guys, like Alfred and Magnus, who are actually friends with the so-called nerds and losers he bullies).

How I see Magnus factoring into the Romerica plot: Right at the beginning of December in his sophomore year, just before Alfred started to figure out he was into Savino in a non-friendship way, Savino showed up in the stands at a football game wearing some replica jersey with Alfred’s number that the school sells. Alfred got so distracted by seeing Vinny in “his jersey” that he just stood there with the football like a dumbass and let himself get tackled instead of completing the play he was supposed to. The coach called a timeout and yelled at Alfred to “get his head in the game,” and he was really ticked off because this was their last game of the season and Alfred was filling in for the first-string quarterback who had gotten injured. Magnus was on the sidelines because he’s a defensive player, so he got a pretty good view of why Alfred was distracted. At this point, he’s known Alfred since the first football practice of the year, when Alfred was like, “I saw you on JV last year and you were really good. I’m glad you made it onto varsity this year.” They chatted a little, Magnus may have mentioned something about being from Denmark and not fitting in super well with people on the JV football team because of that, and Alfred is like “Come hang out with me and my friends at lunch then, ‘cause you’ll fit right in. There’s a couple Europeans there and a guy from Japan.” They start eating lunch together and hanging out outside of school occasionally, and then Savino starts eating lunch with them shortly afterwards (because Alfred had to pester him into it since he met Savino by accidentally hitting him with his locker, so Savino really didn’t like Alfred based on that first meeting). Magnus just assumed Alfred was being friendly to Savino like he’d been friendly to him, because apparently Al is just super nice and welcoming to people from other countries. But then after the jersey incident, he thinks Alfred has a crush, and his suspicion is confirmed once Alfred starts acting weird around Savino as he’s figuring out his feelings. He doesn’t say anything to him about it, because Alfred and Magnus have a more casual “bro” friendship than he does with Tolys and Kiku, and they wouldn’t talk about their deeper emotions with each other like Alfred might with Kiku or Tolys since he’s known them for much longer. Magnus also doesn’t say anything when he sees Alfred pining while Savino is dating Emma, but he does feel bad for him. When Alfred tells him Savino is his new stepbrother, he might be complaining about something else related to this (like his dads shacking up with this other dude all of a sudden). Magnus is like, “Damn, bro, that sucks,” but he’s thinking what really sucks is that Alfred is now stepbrothers with a guy he’s been super into for at least seven months.

Magnus might say something to Alfred about his feelings prior to where I am now, and it will be in October when Alfred is acting crazy jealous over Savino going on a date with the asshole OC. He was there in the locker room when Alfred referred to Savino as “my Vinny” and silently trying to console him/keep him from attacking Dylan when he was talking about Savino in a crude, very sexualized way and taunting Alfred for being jealous. (Dylan didn’t know for sure, but he may have picked up on something, and Dylan is such a jerk that he wants to antagonize Alfred any way he can, and this would clearly work even if Savino is just his very close friend.) Magnus had to pull Alfred off Dylan when Dylan made him snap and break Magnus’s hold by using the word “Fredo” on him mockingly, which is Savino’s and his family’s nickname for Alfred that always makes Alfred happy when he hears it. Magnus tells him to let it go and that Dylan’s not worth it, because he doesn’t want his friend to get in trouble for beating the crap out of the coach’s son, which is what Alfred clearly wanted to do. Alfred waits until Dylan’s gone to finish changing and wants to immediately confront Vinny at home about going out with this guy Alfred and Magnus have both complained about occasionally at lunch because he’s such an asshole and they hate having to deal with him all the time and play nice with him because he’s the coach’s son. Before he leaves, Magnus catches up to Alfred and is like, “Bro, I’m sympathetic to the fact you’re in love with Vinny and he’s going out on a date with a total shithead, but try not to go nuts on him when you get home.” (He might want to ride to Alfred’s house with him to help reiterate the point that Dylan is bad news to Savino and keep him calm, but it would change things too much if Magnus heard the “at least he wants me” line, so I’ll say that he has some thing he needs to do after football practice and can’t go with Alfred.) Alfred is shocked he knows and starts to panic like he always does, and Magnus explains how he knows and reassures Alfred that he doesn’t care about the stepbrother thing because Alfred is his friend and because he knows that Alfred liked Savino for months before he found out that Savino and his family were going to move into Alfred’s house. The conversation is pretty short, since Magnus has some urgent thing to get to, but he warns Alfred one last time to not go nuts on Vinny. (Which he does, just like he did in what I’ve already written.)

Magnus will have a presence during the lunch scenes, and his most important role in those scenes will be during the lunch right before Savino goes out with the asshole OC and Alfred and Savino are sniping at each other over it. He’ll look at Alfred like “dude, I told you not to go nuts on him” and help reiterate how Dylan is an asshole and Savino shouldn’t go out with him (maybe stealing some dialogue that was originally Alfred’s). I also picture him maybe looking concerned after Savino storms out of the cafeteria but letting Tolys console Alfred since Tolys obviously knows what’s going on. He might skip the football team party to hang out with Alfred the night Savino goes out with Dylan, because he knows his friend has got to be feeling like shit, and he’ll be in the room trying to console Alfred before Savino gets home and explains that he didn’t have sex with Dylan and that Dylan was such a jerk he won’t be going out with him again. When Savino explains what happens on the date, he’ll be like, “Vinny, why were you going out with that dude anyway? You knew he was a piece of shit who would want to fuck you as soon as he was done seeing a movie.” Savino says some BS about not wanting to be a single loser, but Magnus didn’t have much of an idea of his feelings prior to this because he was closer to Alfred through football. He starts to think that maybe Savino likes Alfred too, because something is not adding up about the fact that Savino randomly went out with this asshole both he and Alfred have complained about yet is acting disappointed with the fact that Dylan acted in a very predictable way. He doesn’t say anything to Alfred about his suspicion because he doesn’t want to get his friend’s hopes up if he’s wrong. He does tease Alfred when Savino wears his bomber jacket to a game in November and he’s looking up at the stands all starry-eyed, and it’s a short comment because they have to go out and play a game. After Romerica get together, Magnus can sense that something happened between them because they act goofier around each other than they were before, and he’s glad Savino liked Alfred too and that they’re together now. But he doesn’t say anything to them, because they haven’t publicly announced it yet and seem to be under the delusion that their friends who eat lunch with them have no clue what’s going on.

The day after Christmas, Alfred calls up his friends from school to chat with them and so he can thank them for the small presents they’ve exchanged with each other near the end of the school year but agreed not to open until Christmas Day. (I’ll be adding this in as a small mention before they go on the trip.) Alfred has been busier than usual with his Roman holiday, so he hasn’t kept in touch with his school friends like he normally would, and since he’s not dating them he didn’t make an effort to regularly Skype with them the way Matthew does with Katya. Since Santa Stefano in Italy is traditionally a day for people to go visit their friends after a huge family holiday, Alfred might be at Nonno Vargas’s house (to have a conversation with him about Romerica that I’d planned for a long time to occur right after Christmas), and people are just going in and out and doing whatever they feel like. (Some people might stop by a church to give a charitable donation, which is also a tradition on this day.) Alfred calls up Magnus to thank him for his present, which was a Lego space-related model kit (because I think it’s funny if Magnus likes Legos since they’re from Denmark, and he knows how Alfred likes space-related model kits a ton and won’t think he’s too “mature” for a simpler one that may technically be designed for younger people but Magnus could afford to get for a friend from school.) They chat a little, Magnus asks if he got any other space related stuff for Christmas, and Alfred starts rhapsodizing about the telescope from Savino and going into details Magnus may not be able to get (because I’m thinking he has a scientific interest too, because of the famous Danish scientist Niels Bohr, but it’s not space specifically). Magnus interrupts his friend to go, “Hey, Al? I didn’t want to say anything in front of other people since you were trying to keep it a secret, but I’m really happy for you that you got with Vinny sometime after Thanksgiving.” Alfred is surprised Magnus knew, but it’s not angsty since he knows Magnus would be okay with it (like Tolys, who also mentioned Alfred’s feelings before Romerica got together). Magnus explains how they were acting really sappy with each other at lunch in late November/early December to the point he thinks Feliciano’s boyfriend Ludwig might know what’s going on even though he knows Alfred and Savino peripherally through his boyfriend and isn’t close to either of them. But nobody cares, and it’s all cool. Alfred might tell him some vague things about his dads getting suspicious and freaking out over a hickey Savino had during Christmas Eve dinner, but he doesn’t get emotional or go into the level of detail he would with Katya, Kiku, or Tolys since he and Magnus are friends, but not the kind of friends who get into deep, emotional conversations with each other. Magnus is like, “It sucks you had to deal with that. If you guys ever need a break from your parents, you can always come chill at my place. You know how huge my house is.” I’m thinking one of Magnus’s parents is a Danish architect, and he lives in a nice, very large contemporary Scandinavian home and maybe some/all of the Nordics Magnus knows from somewhere other than school (because I don’t want to worry about adding them to Alfred’s friendship group) are there when Romerica runs away and goes to his house on New Year’s Day. If the other Nordics find out about Romerica being stepbrothers in a romantic relationship who had to run away from home when their parents found out, they might think it’s a little weird but not say anything because Romerica are Magnus’s friends and they don’t want to piss him off (and the other Nordics are just not confrontational like this). Eduard might show up after Romerica start to get comfortable because he’s going to visit his best friend/possible boyfriend Timo, and when they see him Romerica are very tense around him because his initial reaction to them is the reason why they didn’t even consider going to Tolys’s house. If he’s there, Eduard gets to explain that he’ll probably always be uncomfortable with the idea of them because of his family situation, but that he didn’t say anything to anyone after Tolys told him not to and gets that it’s not creepy the way Tolys and him hooking up would be. He won’t give them crap about it anymore if he sees them around school or if they’re at Tolys’s house visiting their friend, and he was never so much of a dick that he would be mean to people who just ran away from home. Because Eduard is uncomfortable around them, he might go hang out with Timo somewhere else while Romerica is around.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

The Matchmaker: Sixteen

Sunlight made the dust motes shine like glitter, drifting lazily on the breeze as you curled up in your favorite chair with a book. It was summer break and with no classes to teach and Bucky away on a mission you found yourself with an abundance of free time. 

You spent time with Rebecca, having her as an overnight guest often. Steve, Sam, Nat and other Avengers dropped by. To eat. To chat. To pick your brain... whatever the reason, you appreciated the company. The house was too big without Bucky rattling around in the other rooms. 

He was always tinkering. Adjusting. Planning. Having a house and a wife had seemed like such an impossible thing for so long that now that he had them, he was ecstatic. Always quick to do whatever little home repairs. Always thrilled to pamper you within an inch of your life.

You supposed, laying aside your book with a stretch that you should probably get up. You haven’t been on a run in a few days. Perhaps it’s the weather. The warm spring air making you feel lazy. Fatigue from the frantic last week of classes. But you feel leaden and heavy. Simple things leave you tired or slightly confounded. Part of it, you acknowledge could be some depression. 

Bucky’s been away for a few weeks now. Almost Three full weeks. You’ve counted. Over and over. You miss him. 

You really did try and get up. But the soft breeze, the comfortable chair, and the snuggly blanket prove especially soporific. You were asleep before you could even grab on to the thought that you needed to start dinner.

_________

Bucky dropped his gear next to the door and sighed. It had been a long mission. Mostly dull. He’d been sniping HYDRA agents which. while satisfying, wasn’t anything close to being at home. 

“Y/N?” he called, “You home?” When there was no answer, he shrugged. You might be out and about. He wandered through the house, basking in the quiet and the smell. Fresh bread and coffee. A lingering smell of your perfume. Laundry detergent. It was so different from any place he ever lived before but it smelled so good. He dreamed about this smell while he was away. About as often as he dreamed about being between your thighs. 

He stopped in the door of the front room, the weight of the mission dropping from his shoulders as he watched you sleep. You were curled in the Bamboo swivel chair, snuggled into the thick cushion, fast asleep. “Oh, Sweetheart,” he murmured softly. He smiled tenderly and toed off his shoes to pad quietly across the floor. He knelt slowly and leaned down, kissing your nose. His hair tickling your cheeks made you stir.

“Bucky?” you say groggily, smiling up at him, “You’re home.”

“My very own sleeping Beauty,” he teases gently, “I’m a lucky man.” Your cheeks color and you struggle to sit up, “I’m sorry... I meant to make sure there was food for you. Like a pie and stuff... Nat or someone was supposed to text me.”

“It’s okay,” he soothes, kissing you again, “Shhh, you were sleeping real good when I came in, baby. You probably needed it... You look like you still need it.”

He cups your cheek softly and frowns, “You feel okay, Princess? You look a little pale.” 

You nod, “Just kinda... groggy,” you tell him, “The last couple weeks of the semester were stressful.” He brushes his thumb over your cheekbone and smiles, “Then how about if we just order pizza. We’ll eat a little bit and then I’ll run us a bath.” 

“I should be taking care of you,” you murmur, turning your head to kiss his hand, “You just got home.” 

“Bah,” he said, “I’m fine, Princess. Nothing exciting happened. I just got to snipe some Nazis and cover Clint’s ass while he tried to cover Scott’s.” He smiled and tucked the blanket around you sweetly, “It’s good to be home, even without apple pie.” He pets your hair and stand slowly, “I’m gonna go get comfortable,” he said softly, “after that I’ll order us some food okay?” 

You nod wordlessly and stretch, trying to get going. Trying to get up, be a good wife and go help him. But you were asleep again before he could get back downstairs. Not sleeping hard, but drifting. Stuck in a hazy twilight state. Bucky paused at the doorway and frowned. 

You never slept like this, struggling so hard to stay awake. He picked up his phone and ordered pizza. Making sure that he also ordered a nice dessert. Something sweet might make you feel better. At the very least, he would enjoy a sweet thing. Now that he knew he’d almost gotten apple pie. 

He also made you an appointment for a check-up. He knew you’d go if he made you but he also knew you’d never make one yourself. Not if you could avoid it. You had a weird aversion to doctors that seemed to stem from growing up without insurance. You didn’t go unless it was imperative. It could be cute if it wasn’t so frustrating. 

When the pizza got there, he got plates and quietly bustled around laying things on the table trying not to wake you up. He started a movie for you, a comfort film that you could watch without having to think. “Baby,” he hums, shaking you awake tenderly, “rise and shine. There’s food. You hungry?” 

You stir a little and struggle to sit up, rubbing your eyes. He helps you up gently and settles you on the sofa, putting a plate with a slice of pizza on it into your hands. 

He knows you and he knows better than to put more than a little on your plate at a time. You’re a picker. You eat. But it’s usually very slowly. With very few exceptions you just don’t eat much at one time. If you aren’t feeling well, you’ll eat even less.

It doesn’t take long for him to find out that he was right. You take a few bites of pizza and a few bites of a brownie before pushing it away with a soft noise, curling up again, putting your head on his lap. Bucky sighs, “Sweetheart,” he murmured, “We’re taking you to get checked out tomorrow. I don’t like this.”

“I’m fine,” you protest yawning, “I’m just a little run down.”

Bucky pets your hair, “Humor me,” he murmurs, “Please, Princess? It might be some anemia. Or some vitamin being low.” 

You nod, “Fine,” you murmur, “but you have to hold my hand if they draw blood.” The former Assassin chuckled and set his plate aside, finally full. “I can do that,” he murmured, “if it means it’ll get you into the doctor’s office.”

_____________

In the morning you look a little better. A little more alert after a night with Bucky. He’d groused about being a teddy bear. About how he was a grown man and you had a ton of stuffies you could cuddle to death, but you knew it was just bluster. He didn’t mind being your giant teddy bear. A husband shaped body pillow. In fact, he rather enjoyed it. He knew you were safe if you were asleep on his chest. 

But, in the harsh light of the exam room, you were still pale. Pale and moving slow. It was enough to worry him a little. Still, you were up. And dressed. Clean. That was something. 

The nurse took your vitals, quick, efficient hands and cheerful demeanor. Bucky liked her. She told you the doctor would be in to see you soon and let herself out. 

It was still early and didn’t take long for a woman with sharp hazel eyes and grey hair tied into a bun to let herself in. “Did you come in of your own accord or did someone force you, Y/N?” she asked fondly. 

“I was coerced,” you snort, “Bucky’s worried about my... I guess it’s fatigue... I’m fine once I get on my feet and get going but getting going is the tricky part.”

She nods and makes a note on your chart before going to feel along your neck. Bucky clears his throat, “I’m not sure how long she was asleep before I got home yesterday but... She fell asleep for the might around 7:30 and didn’t get up this morning until 8am.” 

The doctor nods and frowns a little, “How long have you had this level of fatigue?” she asks. You shrug, “Really just the last couple weeks... I figured it was just the school year wrapping up, you know?” 

She nods, “That could be it,” she acknowledged. She made a note and glanced at your chart again, “Your birth control prescription's run out, I can write you another while you’re here unless you need something changed.” 

“I haven’t been taking it,” you admit, cheeks coloring. She nods, “In that case, I do want blood work done,” she said, matter of factly, “Just to make sure we cover our bases. How long has it been since your last period?”

You pause for a second, thinking, “I’m not sure... Stress tends to throw them out of whack.” She nods, “Well,” she said noting that in your chart too, “the nurse will be in, in just a second. We’ll run some tests and get back to you.” 

She shakes your hand and then Bucky’s before picking up your chart and stepping into the hall and having a quiet word with a nurse.

Before long, Bucky is letting you hide your face in his neck, murmuring soothing things as you’re getting blood drawn. You’re dizzy and sick feeling, even if you can’t see the blood leaving your body. He kisses your head and helps you sit up straight again when they’ve got what they need and helps you into your jacket. 

“Come on, beautiful,” he says, “Let’s get you out and moving around a little... There’s a little book shop we haven’t visited yet.” 

You nod, “You know how to show a girl a good time, don’t you?” you tease.

He grins, “Just my best girl,” he answers, “Come on, ya nerd. Let’s find you something in a dead language to read.” 

“I never took a girl on a date to look at prototypes of flying cars,” you shoot back, “Pretty sure you’re the nerd.”

He gasps and pretends to be offended as he escorts you out, “Moi?” he says, “You got me all wrong, doll. I’m 100% pure American Beefcake. No nerdery here. I’m too badass.”

You snort, “Sure, baby.” You stand on your toes and kiss his jaw fondly. 

___________

Bucky is happy to ply you with books and treats. Happy to see you really do perk up just a little as the day goes on and you get moving a little. Even if you do still feel “like a sloth running through syrup.” Currently, he’s idly stroking the feet that are resting in his lap and watching Heathers.

He’s gotten tired of not understanding the pop culture references that fly between you and Natasha. It’s a decent movie. He likes it well enough. But it doesn’t quite distract him from the worry that’s burrowed in the back of his mind.

 What if you’re sick? Really sick. He doesn’t think he could handle having you snatched away. In his head, he saw terrible things. Watched you snatched out of his arms a thousand different ways. It hurt. You’ve dozed off again, cozy on the couch, book against your chest. 

In a way, that’s comforting. The doctor wasn’t worried. You were probably fine. It was probably just vitamins or hormones. He tucked you in and kissed your head tenderly. He took a deep breath to quell the anxiety and sighed. If you were sick he’d take care of you. You’d get the best medical care and it would all be fine, he decided. 

When your phone rang, he glanced down at it. It was the Doctors office. He didn’t want to wake you up but he wanted to know. 

He picked up the phone and answered it, “Hello?”

“Hi,” the cheerful nurse from early replied as Bucky walked into the kitchen so he could talk and let you sleep, “Is Mrs. Barnes available?”

“Oh, uh. This is her husband,” he said. “I see,” she said. He heard keys tapping and folded his arm across his chest, waiting. “Oh!” she said cheerfully, “She does have a release on file for you... Well just let her know, her vitamin D levels are a little low so we’ve got a prescription for her at the pharmacy. Also, Congratulations!” she said hitting keys, “It looks like Y/N’s pregnant.”

Bucky almost dropped the phone, “I- thank you,” he stammered, “I’ll let her know.” The nurse laughed gently, “As soon as you can think, make sure you tell her to get in touch with us. We’ll get her set up for appointments... I thought you knew already or I would have lead with that.”

Bucky thanked her, feeling a little light-headed as he put the phone down. He gripped the counter and fought the urge to laugh. 

“Was that the Doctor’s office?” your soft voice behind him makes him turn and he melts. You’re wrapped up in your blanket and rubbing your eyes, trying to get you’re bearings. “Yeah,” he said grinning.

“Am I dying?” you tease. 

He feels tears well up and he pulls you against him gently, kissing the top of your head, “No,” he laughed. He took a deep breath and tilted your chin up, “You’re having a baby,” he said a little breathless. 

Your arms around his neck and your lips against his are the only answer he needs. You’re both crying as he lifts you up to set you on the counter, cradling your face in his hands. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said. “Jesus Christ, Princess, I was so scared.”

He hugs you to him, chuckling as you wrap your legs around his waist. “I love you,” you tell him, “I’m not going anywhere.”

He kisses you slowly and smiles, “Promise?”

You nod and brush hair out of his eyes, “I promise,” you tell him, wiping tears off his cheeks. 

He scoops you up gently and carries you up the stairs, “Where are we going?” you ask. 

“Upstairs,” he answers, “If I don’t get to kiss every inch of you, now, I’m gonna lose it.” You giggle even as you blush and smudge a kiss against his cheek. “If you ask nicely,” he teased, “I might even run you a bath.” 

“Only if you join me,” you tell him, pouting. 

He laughed and laid you on the bed, pulling off his t-shirt before sprawling out next to you, “Anything you want, sweetheart.”

You card your fingers through his hair as he nuzzled into your belly and smudged soft hungry kisses against the skin he’s exposing. You lounge against the pillows and sigh, “Does this mean if I ask you’ll let me have a puppy?”

He pinches your hip making you giggle and smiles, “God, you’re such a brat... but if I say yes, do I get to name it?”

“They baby or the dog?” you snort.

“Either. Yes?” he answered.

“You can pick names for the dog but I reserve the right to veto them if I hate it,” he said. 

“That’s fair,” Bucky said, easing your leggings over your hips, “I’ve met me.”

Tags: @lancsnerd​ @stevieang​ @golddaggers​ @blameitonthecauseway @qxeen-of-hearts​ @process-pending​ @xmarveled​ @beautybyfire, @etherealwaifgoddess, @mschellehitt, @mistressoftorture @thorfanficwriter, @ctinadiva, @innerpaperexpertcloud @amalthea9  @cdwmtjb8 @notyourtypicalrose

[kellanved-ammanas]

Christmas Party

Scout was pleased to learn that Christmas was much more of a universal holiday; everyone on the team was familiar with it. Meaning operation Christmas party and gift exchange was ago.

Just like with Halloween, Scout volunteered to be in charge of the party. Back home, he never would’ve dreamed of taking on such a role, but here he was really the only one suited for it as well as the only one who wanted a party bad enough to put up with being the one to organize it. Everything his mother had taught him about throwing a good party was finally being put to good use.

He ran into his first problem when upon going to town to get decorations, he learned that the lizard-aliens did not celebrate any winter holiday – could it still be called that when it wasn’t really winter here? They didn’t even seem to have a season that could be classified as winter – and thus did not sell decorations for such. There were also no pine trees anywhere to serve as Christmas trees. None of which was actually surprising when given any real thought.

“All right,” he said as he turned to Pyro and Engie, the two people who’d volunteered to help him with decorations – Demo and Spy had come to town with them too but Demo had gone off to drink and Spy had vanished shortly after they’d arrived to do who knows what. “We’ll have to improvise on the decorations and find something else to be the Christmas tree. I know a little origami so I could probably make some swan ornaments and if we can get some stuff, like cardboard or something similar shaped the right way, we could paint them to look ornaments and other Christmassy things. But you guys got any ideas?”

“I could probably make a few strings of lights,” Engie offered. “All I’d really need is some coloured glass for the bulbs, everything else I probably got at my workshop on the ship.”

“We could make a fake tree out of metal,” Pyro offered next. “Or we could just use one of the plants around here and then burn it when we’re done.”

“Hmm, let’s go with the first thing,” Scout replied. The only plants of substantial size he’d seen on this planet so far were the purple ones and not only were they ugly he didn’t trust them after Medic and Pyro’s experiment with burning them even if that was a long while a go now. “So, I guess let’s just get some basic art supplies and then maybe some red and green cloth that we can cut up and hang like tinsel kind of like we did for Halloween.”

“Sounds good,” Engie said as Pyro gave a thumbs up in agreement.

 -

With the three of them working together, it wasn’t long before they had everything. Pyro helped making ornaments out of paper and cardboard, Scout had taught him how to make origami swans – the only thing he remembered how to make. So they had a quite a few paper swans painted in Christmas colours and themes to hang up on the tree alongside the pieces of cardboard cut and painted to resemble bulb ornaments. The tree itself was made of pieces of straight narrow scrap metal wielded together and spray painted green with a metal star on top, spray painted gold. As a whole it looked pretty odd but still very much like a Christmas tree especially with how well Engie’s special made string of multi-coloured lights turned out.

The rest of the decorations were slightly less good. The ‘tinsel’ barely resembled such. And the papier-mâché wreath Scout had made looked more like a bumpy green doughnut with red and yellow poke dots than a wreath. But whatever, they were limited in what they could do and they’d done their best. The decorations weren’t the most important thing anyway, the gifts and party itself was.

Which was where Scout’s second problem came from; what gifts was he going to get for everyone. He considered them all his friends – even Medic despite their rocky start and Scout’s continued distrust of him in anything involving medical stuff and Spy despite Spy’s standoffishness towards him, less than it had ever been but still there, – so he had to get them all something. And… he wanted to get Sniper something special because… yeah.

He nabbed the team car for a solo trip to town to visit the shopping center in town. Half of it was outside in the desert sand with stalls and lizard-aliens loudly hawking their wares to passersby, not too dissimilar to outdoor shopping centers he was familiar with from back home. The other half was underground though in what seemed to be a cave carved out of the same stone that the buildings were all made out of. It sort of reminded Scout of a mall – though much more cramped and smelling very much of alien reptiles – with how it looped back around on itself. There was even a food court that Scout didn’t dare eat anything at.

Scout hadn’t spent much time here before despite how long they’d been on this planet so he got lost more than once as he wondered around looking for gift ideas. There were some gifts that were obvious, a bottle of nice rum – the alien equivalent of such as far as Scout could tell – for Demo, a fancy lighter for Pyro, a little robot toy for Engie. Upon finding a shop that sold glitter – it was apparently a universe wide phenomenon, infecting everyone everywhere – he got the stuff to make two glitter bombs, one for Spy and one for Medic because honestly, they deserved it. He’d get them something real too though, he wasn’t that much of a jerk. He might’ve gotten the supplies to make one for Pyro too but a) he might’ve enjoyed being showered in glitter, destroying the purpose of the prank and b) on the off chance he didn’t, he wasn’t the kind of person Scout wanted to make angry.

Haggling was expected but difficult because Scout’s grasp of their sign language wasn’t the best and some of them didn’t even know it. Sometimes he had to resort to communicating via pointing, gesturing, and using fingers to count out an offered price. It was a lot of work and exhausting but he somehow managed despite everything. And in the process his grasp of the language got a bit better so win, win.

He saved getting Sniper’s gift for last. It was the most important and therefore the hardest. Should he get a gift that made his crush on Sniper clear and thus use it to finally make a proper move on him? But… should he ever even make a proper move? They were coworkers, weren’t there rules about dating coworkers? And… Sniper probably didn’t even like him back, did he? Making a move might ruin everything Scout had slowly built with him and make everything awkward. So maybe Scout wasn’t ready to give that kind of gift and risk that. But it still had to be a good gift. What though?

The thing Sniper liked the best was his job: sniping. But Scout had gotten him to discuss other interests a few times. Animals was one but not an option as a gift because pets as gifts wasn’t a great idea even if they were alien pets. Camping was another but Scout didn’t know the first thing about camping so what would he even get Sniper for that? That didn’t leave him with many options.

Maybe a stuffed animal would do? But would that be too flirty? … And so far, if any store or stall sold stuffed animals, Scout hadn’t seen it and he’d been around the whole shopping center, underground and above ground, at least twice now. And he didn’t really have time to look specifically for that, he had to get back to base soon, he’d already been gone for almost three hours now. Meaning he had to settle for something soon.

With a grimace, he picked up his walking pace. He had to find something good soon, he just had to.

 -

A bit more than an hour later, he finally returned to base. Spy appeared before him as he stepped out of the car.

“Where’d you go?” he asked as if it were any of his business.

“Christmas shopping,” Scout answered as he slammed the car door shut. He pulled all his shopping bags close to make sure Spy couldn’t peek into them without making his intent to do so obvious. “I got you something too, don’t worry.”

“Oh.” Spy’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “What is it?”

Scout couldn’t help a mischievous smile coming to his face. “You’ll have to wait and see. And don’t you dare sneak into my room to try peek before Christmas.” If anyone would do that, it’d be Spy. “I’m going wrap them right away and I’m going to boobytrap the hiding spot so don’t even try it.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Spy said, speaking just a bit too fast; he’d for sure been thinking about it. “I don’t care anyway.” He made a dismissive hand gesture towards Scout before vanishing.

 -

The big day was finally here and Scout couldn’t be more excited. Especially since, Christmas was so much of a recognized holiday that the Administrator gave them a whole two weeks off for it. Miss Pauling even showed up for the party, meaning Scout’s party was basically already as success.

There was food and drink on one table. Most of the ‘food’ was sweets: cupcakes, a whole cheesecake, and lots of gingerbread in the form of gingerbread men as well as a lopsided house, all of which was made by Heavy and Pyro. Unfortunately, they’d run out of normal alcohol, leaving them with only the alien stuff meaning Scout had to stick to plain old water from the ship’s purification system like some kind of boring nerd. He could’ve let Demo bring a jug of his homebrewed moonshine too but… he’d tried it once and it was nasty. So by the end of the night he was probably going to be the only one sober other than Pyro and probably Spy – Spy seemed to avoid the alien alcohol too for some reason. Which meant he should probably hand out the gifts he’d got for everyone before the party dragged on too long.

He went to Demo and Soldier, drinking playing cards together first.

“Oh,” Demo said as Scout handed him his gift and then Solider his. “Laddie, you didn’t have to. Most people in our line of work will throw a party but… not always do the gift thing.”

“I know,” Scout replied. “I ain’t that kind guy though. I love Christmas and you guys put me in charge of this whole party so… I had to. I don’t except anything in return though, don’t worry.” He’d just wanted to get his new friends stuff.

“Don’t complain maggot,” Soldier said. “Just say ‘thank you’ and open your gift.” He was already following that advice, pulling the small pet sweater that would hopefully fit Lt. Bites out of the box. He gasped at the sight of it. “Is this what I think it is?” he asked, looking back up at Scout.

“Uh… depends on what you think it is. But I thought you might like to put it on your raccoon.” Everyone had long since given up trying to convince Soldier that Lt. Bites wasn’t a raccoon.

“I will go put it on her immediately.” Soldier stood up and rushed out of the room. He’d probably return with her on his shoulder soon which wasn’t great, she still liked to hiss at people who weren’t Soldier. But whatever, she rarely bit anyone anymore despite her name so it would probably be fine.”

“Oh wow,” Demo said, drawing Scout’s gaze back to him. He’d too opened his gift and pulled out the bottle, undisguised joy on his face. “This is the good stuff, for this planet anyway, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” So far everything was turning out fantastic.

Next, he went to Pauling and Heavy, chatting in a corner while enjoying some gingerbread and alcohol. Just like Demo, they were both a bit surprised to be receiving a gift from him. But…

“Is very nice, thank you,” Heavy said upon pulling out the set of kitchen knives Scout had gotten for him because he was the person on the team who cooked the most.

For Pauling he’d gotten a toy space ship because he really did not know what else to get her. He didn’t know her as well as he knew everyone else on the team due to how busy she was always was. She seemed pleased with it though, smiling as she pulled it out of its little box. “Thank you.”

After chatting with them for a bit longer, he moved onto to Spy – he couldn’t hold back his anticipation for the glitter bomb much longer – and Engie. Everyone seemed to be hanging out in pairs right now which was just fine with him, it made the whole gift giving thing a tad easier.

“Hey guys,” he said as he sidled up to them, making sure to be closer to Engie than Spy. “Merry Christmas!” He pulled out the gifts labelled for them and handed them over.

“Uh… wasn’t expecting it but thanks,” Engie said.

“Yes, I suppose a thanks is in order,” Spy said before going straight to unwrapping his. Wrapping paper gone, it was time to lift the lid and… boom, the glitter bomb went off, spraying glitter everywhere, especially on Spy.

It was hilarious. The glare he turned on Scout once it was over made it impossible not to laugh. Even Engie chuckled.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Spy said, voice dripping with venom.

Scout rained in his laughter enough to answer. “There’s a real gift in there too, under all the glitter.”

Still glaring daggers at Scout, Spy upended the box into his hand. “A knife,” he said once enough of the remaining glitter fell away to reveal it. “Great. … You have any idea how hard this stuff is to clean up?”

“Well uh…”

“I need a shower,” Spy interrupted before vanishing. But, the glitter was still visible, clinging to him and making him not very invisible at all. It was just too good; another burst of laughter bubbled up in Scout.

“He kept the knife with him though,” Engie said once Spy was gone. “So at least he likes that part of the gift… I think. That maybe wasn’t a great idea though, he’s going to mad now.”

“Whatever.” Scout wasn’t worried about that “It’s his own fault for being a jerk. But like, open your gift now, it doesn’t have any glitter in it because I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Engie grunted in response as he finished unwrapping his present. “Ah cute,” he said in response to the little robot. “Thanks.”

“You’re very welcome,” Scout replied before turning to face everyone else as they gathered to investigate the commotion. Pyro went straight to playing in the glitter on the floor, crouching down to run his gloved hand through it. Yep, not getting him a glitter bomb had been a good idea.

“Did you really have to set off a glitter bomb in here?” Pauling asked, giving him a slight frown.

“I’ll clean it up, I promise.” Scout would never dream of doing otherwise. Glitter bombs being a favourite prank of his and his bros, he had a good amount of experience in cleaning up the after math of them on a variety of different surfaces.

But while everyone else was gathered here, he reached into his bag to pull out Pyro and Medic’s gifts. He quickly handed them to their recipients before retreating. While he trusted Spy not to hurt him for the prank – as harsh as his words could be sometimes, he’d never once actually done anything to Scout – he wasn’t so sure about Medic and he didn’t want to risk anything. Under the glitter bomb in Medic’s gift was a bag of treats for his dragons but that probably wouldn’t earn him much forgiveness so it was best to get out and hide for it a bit.

On his way, he hooked an arm through Sniper’s – he’d been on the fringe of the group – pulling him with him. Sniper just sort of let him, not saying anything even when they exited the room and Scout brought him outside and around back instead.

“Let me guess,” Sniper said when Scout finally pulled them to a stop when they were behind the building. “You put a glitter bomb in Medic’s gift too and you’re afraid of him so you ran away before he could open it?”

“Bingo,” Scout replied. “But it’s not that I’m afraid,” it kind of was though but that made him sound weak, “it’s more, I don’t want to give him a possible reason to try to dissect me again.”

Sniper raised an eyebrow. “’Again’?”

“Eh, it’s a long story, don’t worry about it.” Scout didn’t want to talk about it and that was a while ago now so who would even believe him? Especially since the scars were mostly faded. “Anyway, I brought you out here with me because I still need give you your gift.” And because he wanted some alone time with him but he couldn’t admit to that.

He reached into his bag one last time to pull out the final gift and handed it to Sniper. Who accepted after a second or two of staring it uncomfortably with a slight grimace.

“I uh… didn’t get you anything,” he said.

“It’s fine,” Scout assured him. “I didn’t expect anyone would. I just did it because I wanted to. Open it though, I need to know if you like it. And uh I promise it’s not glitter.”

“That uh… kinda makes me worry that it might be glitter. But…” He trailed off with a shrug before removing the wrapping paper. He as bit more cautious with lifting giftbox’s lid, holding a bit far away from his body. When it became obvious that nothing bad was going to happen though, he pulled it close again to look inside and pull out the gift.

“Oh,” he said, holding it up to the light. “It’s nice.”

“You really think so?” Scout had looked and looked for something good before coming upon that badass tooth necklace. He had no idea what animal the teeth came from, only that they were large, pointed, and looked cool. Conjuring up an image of Sniper wearing it wasn’t hard either, it fit his general aesthetic.

“Yeah,” Sniper said. “I always wanted a shark tooth necklace. Though I suppose these ain’t from a shark, not the right shape and on an alien planet.” He briefly removed his hat to slip it on over his head. “Thanks though, I like it.”

“Awesome.” Scout almost had to hold back a sigh of relief. He’d been more nervous about this than he’d thought. But it had gone well, heck everything had gone well. And as a cherry on top, to avoid Medic’s wrath for a bit, he could get away with spending an hour or two alone with Sniper out here before going back inside to enjoy the rest of the party.

[thanksjro]

Polyhex Wars, Book 1 Part 2: The Timeline for the Robots Being Gay Goes Back Further Than I Thought

Ratchet wakes up from that whole, “mystical passing out” thing to find himself strapped to a table with his head all poked into with wires. Optimus and Prowl are also being subjected to this treatment, but they’re not awake yet.

I guess we all have that one character we just latch onto, don’t we?

Chromedome was there when all three of these guys collapsed, and went to go get help. Ratchet explains that there was black fire and breaking glass and it was all like some god-awful acid trip.

No kidding, doc.

Ratchet seems to think that all that actually happened, but it turns out that it was all in their heads, much like everything else that they’d seen. Chromedome just saw them drop with a flash of light.

Optimus wakes up, and First Aid explains that their mental trips into Limbo are coming closer and closer together,  and becoming more violent as a result. There’s a good chance that the next time they have an attack, they’ll be sharing a dreamscape.

Prowl hasn’t woken up. Optimus is worried that he’s stuck in Limbo, and demands that they be put back under to guide him back to the land of the living. First Aid has his reservations, but what is he gonna do, argue with the space pope? Optimus and Ratchet are sent back in with the power of mind-transfer.

Let’s take a quick look at some Chromedome canon before we move on to the next chunk of story, because I want to try and get a feel for why Roberts seems to like him so much.

In the Marvel comics, Chromedome was kind of a reclusive computer nerd, who very much disliked the fact that all his programming skills were only being applied to the war effort as opposed to literally anything else. When Fortress Maximus decided to up and leave, he went along gladly. He ended up getting paired with a very outgoing, vain Nebulan partner named Stylor when the whole Headmaster thing happened. They had their differences, but ultimately were brought together by the common goal of kicking Decepticon ass for the greater good. Comic Chromedome is a relatively nice guy, if a bit cowardly- his final entry in the series was heading for the hills when Unicron showed up, but honestly I can’t really fault him for that.

And then there’s the Headmasters anime. Yeah, Chromedome was an anime protagonist back in the 90’s. Anime Chromedome is a completely different entity than his comic counterpart. His whole thing is that he wants revenge for the murder of his friends at the hands of Sixshot. He’s also a Headmaster- no shit- but it works a little differently, in that he’s the only one involved with the process. Chromedome himself IS the head, and the big body he plugs into is just this sort of inert mecha that he pilots when he wants to be able to reach the higher shelves at the supermarket.

Anime Chromedome is the second-in-command to Fortress Maximus, and he’s a bit of a jackass at times, but he seems to have his heart in the right place. You know, when he isn’t busy beating Decepticons to death. Anime Chromedome goes hard.

Getting back to the story, we return to the scene we left at the end of Part One, with the 40 Autobots having been caught in a trap in Darkmount.

Well that lasted all of five minutes. Poor Grandpa.

This starts a chain reaction, and it isn’t long before all the Autobots are throwing punches. Blaster goes full cowl, taking four guys on at once, and potentially kneeing someone in the nuts so hard they flies up into the air and are promptly exploded by gunfire. Blaster throws a gun to Sights, who is a sniper, and then is right back in the center of the fracas.

Sights is a sniper here, but it looks like the only Sights in Transformers canon is a bird who can turn into a fusion cannon. They probably aren’t the same character, unless there’s something I don’t know about birds.

Sights hauls himself up to a ledge using a grappling hook, and starts picking off Decepticons. Things seem to be turning around for the Autobots at this point, because Sights is the best.

Sights is what some might call a Mary Sue- he’s the best at sniping, rivaling Optimus Prime himself with his accuracy, everyone seems to know him, and he singlehandedly has turned the tide of this fight. As the Autobots escape, he manages to explode a key piece of Decepticon equipment, killing over a dozen enemy troops.

This is an earlier work, if you couldn’t already tell.

We do see some neat transitions in the writing, though.

Ratchet and Optimus have entered Limbo, and are feeling a little manic about the whole thing, especially since the space is just filled with corpses from the Time Wars. Like, it’s a carpet of dead bodies.

Roberts was all about that edge from the get-go, huh?

The two robots start walking, looking for Prowl.

Over with Red Alert on the Celestial, he’s not really feeling the vibe on this spacecraft. Neither is Hot Shot, but neither of them can really pinpoint why exactly that is. Sideswipe points out that Getaway doesn’t have his Nebulan partner with him- for this particular story, we’re going with the take on Getaway as a Powermaster, which means he has a smaller person who plugs into his body to act as a battery, kind of like a reverse parasite.

Comic books are weird.

Toy gimmicks are also weird.

This cues in the Autobots that things might not be on the up and up here. You know, that and the whole “Witterquick” thing. The boys load their weapons, but keep them concealed as they approach not-Blaster, who’s beginning to worry that he’s been caught after all this time.  He must have sort flavor of social anxiety, because he’s kept his cool over the video chat for the last few weeks, but the moment Red Alert enters the room, he blows his cover and orders the Decepticons to attack.

Back at Darkmount, it seems we’ve lost a few people, as the count has gone from 40 to 29. The boys are running through the halls, completely clueless as to where to go in order to escape.

Don’t be shocked by the language, this is G1 Silverbolt, not the one who fucks is a complete gentleman to a spider.

I’m still convinced that this Courier guy is evil. You should be tossing him out the window, not looking to him for help.

The Decepticons are gaining. Hound, exasperated, asks as nicely as he can for Silverbolt to try and wake Courier up as they attempt to keep the distance between factions as wide as they can. Laser fire quickly becomes involved, and Swerve and Bumblebee go from the back of the pack to the front. Little fellas can move when they want to.

While Sights does another cool thing with some guns he stole, Courier wakes up and says- with some trouble, since he’s just woken up and still bleeding from that leg wound- that they should jump into the sewers to escape.

That’s all well and good, but if they intend on doing such a thing, they’ll need to put a bit more distance between themselves and their assailants. Everyone starts shooting at the ceiling, attempting to bring it crashing down. Everyone except Sights. No, instead Sights goes on picking off any Decepticon who gets too close for comfort, until they manage to bring the house down.

The strong, silent type, Sights is. Tall, dark, and handsome, too, most likely.

Back in Limbo, Ratchet’s starting to crack.

As if on cue, the ground starts to crack, revealing lava of all things, and the whole scene turns into Dante’s Inferno-flavored Hell. Yeah, proper noun Hell. Optimus and Ratchet are exploded by contact with a downpour of acid rain, then their bodies reconstituted, only to be burned to crispies by the lava. When they wake up from that, they find themselves stuck on a spinning silver plate in the sky, where they have an excellent view of where Prowl’s gotten to- he’s stranded on an asteroid with a big, scary Decepticon, who’s about to complete wreck his shit.

You know, the snark has always been there in Roberts’ writing, but it didn’t really hit its stride until after this piece of work.

Meanwhile, in the sewers, our Autobots aren’t doing so hot. Courier’s probably going to die if they don’t get him medical attention soon. I guess they just didn’t have any sort of medic on the Celestial when it was overtaken, which seems like a massive oversight. Or maybe they’re dead.

We don’t have time to worry about the hiring practices of the Autobots right now though, because a few Decepticons just arrived on the scene.

Well, there goes the token girl character.

Seems like nobody told these ‘Cons to not hit their deep cover operative. There goes several thousand years of Autobot secrets, dumbasses. Soundwave’s going to be so pissed.

The Autobots quickly fall into formation and start defending themselves. Turns out Rev-Tone’s on the scene.

Hi Rev-Tone!

Someone gets shot and proceeds to explode, which causes enough chaos for a Decepticon to load up a missile launcher without being noticed and fire it into the crowd.

Things are looking hopeless, so that means it’s time for Sights to make his Heroic Sacrifice™. Hound begs him to stay, because he can’t bear to lose anyone else.

Unfortunately, the Hound/Sights coffeeshop AU slowburn fit written by Rewind will have to have a fix-it fic tag, because Sights is almost immediately and literally ripped apart by a smattering of Decepticons. Knowing his time is running out, he busts out the big guns.

Oh my god he’s got fucking laser vision.

That isn’t quite enough though, so he initiates self-destruct, thereby saving his fellow Autobots and dying a hero.

You know, if you stack Sights on top of what was left of Quark after the interrogation scene, you make a whole robot. Worst. Duobot. Ever.

Not to worry though, because Wheeljack’s taken the opportunity to be all weird and cryptic, and insinuates that they potentially COULD bring Sights back from the dead. Because of course he can.

We don’t get to find out how that magic’s going to happen though, because it’s time to check in on Optimus and Ratchet.

Things aren’t going great. They crashed the disk, and it turns out that the giant Decepticon threatening Prowl and throwing body parts at him is Galvatron. Optimus leaps into action, attempting to use his magnetic repellence on the enemy.

I guess that’s a thing he has.

It works, but it’s taking a lot out of Optimus, so they need to figure something else out fast. Optimus, ever light on his mental feet, surges the power so that Galvatron explodes. Ratchet goes over to Prowl to see what his deal is, and it’s looking like he’s going to need brain surgery.

“Now back the hell up, Optimus, you’re breathing contaminates all over Prowl’s exposed brain.”

Back on Cybertron, it turns out that things might just be okay after all, as Hound and company have stumbled across the lost city of Subterrainia. Subterrainia did not exist in Transformers canon at the time of this writing, but it would in 2012, when Roberts used his immense power as a hired writer for the franchise to make it so.

Now that they’re in a place that has medical equipment, they can heal their wounded and indulge in a little lore. Trasher provides us with the backstory of this lost city.

Long before the War, Transformers lived on the surface of Cybertron. Then, one day, someone said, what if we didn’t do that? Then they built Subterrainia and lived there instead. Then the War happened and people sort of just forgot that it was there. The end.

That’s literally it.

After that riveting explanation, we check back in with Optimus, who I suppose forgot to put on his patience hat this morning, as he asks Ratchet to hurry up with the life-saving field surgery he’s currently in the middle of. Ratchet calls him out on it, as he should, and Optimus apologizes, going back to worrying about his troops outside of Limbo.

Over on the Celestial, Red Alert’s just had his arm shot off, and there’s a continuity error running amok.

You are supposed to be back at base, mister!

The Autobots are getting their asses kicked, and it’s not hard to see why- a lot of the Decepticons on this spacecraft are heavy hitters. Starscream’s here, the entire Combaticon team, it’s wild.

Then Starscream calls for escape plan 3 to take place, and they just… leave. It’s strange, and it’s sudden, and the Autobots can’t help but agree. Red Alert decides to see what’s on the computer to try and figure out what they’re planning, and ends up setting off the countdown for a bomb. Slapdash yells at him for being an idiot.

Back down in the City of the Mole People, Getaway’s come back from checking out the place, and informs Hound that it’s completely abandoned. He theorizes that the Decepticons killed everyone who lived here, an will probably come looking for them sooner rather than later. That’s all fine though, because Courier’s back and better than ever.

I still don’t trust him.

He says he knows how to get out of Subterrainia- which only chalks up more points against him being a true Autobot- but hold on! What about Sights?

Sights just got Goldbugged. It’s Ammo now.

Roberts will never let a pair of robot titties go unnoticed. I can’t believe that Wheeljack, with the limited time they had, would go and make Ammo this attractive, and then have the audacity to show him off with a dramatic reveal. It was completely unnecessary, but here we are, staring at Ammo’s strong arms and thighs, wishing to be held by Hotbot 9000 over here.

Hound is all about this overhaul. Look at him, getting all flustered.

Ammo as character is present in the IDW run of the comics, but in name only. They are very different creatures, much like the different iterations of Quark. Roberts is very into recycling, and here is no exception.

After Ammo’s debut, the narrative checks in on Autobot City, where things aren’t nearly as sexy; Starscream made a beeline for the place the moment they left the Celestial, and they’re wrecking shop. He’s doing this without orders to do so, by the way. This is just how Starscream wants his Monday to go, I guess. It’s looking pretty grim for the Autobots, and Optimus is still stuck in Limbo. Hopefully he gets back soon.

[andrewuttaro]

New Look Sabres: GM 8 - LAK - Stats Class

How much would you give for the Sabres to win a Stanley Cup? The list goes pretty far for me stopping only once you get to some basic human needs and fundamental decency. I’d trade the Buffalo Bills for four of them. I think that’s a fair price for giving up an NFL team, that league sucks ass mightily. The Kings sold it all away for their two Stanley Cups. It’s hard to imagine the City of Los Angeles being a snake-bitten hockey market but before 2012 they were one of those first wave expansion teams who had come close again and again to never actually do the thing. It changed quickly and for most of the early years of this decade they were right up there with Chicago as the class of this league. That whole arrangement is no more. The players that won those Cups are eroding off the roster save for an unmovable few. If you win the Cup, even once, you did it. You’re allowed to be terrible for what… ten years afterward? They sank a lot of assets into those runs and it paid off. And though the dynasty team maybe eroding away that “killer instinct”, that never-say-die attitude, still echoes off the ice. It did last night against the Buffalo Sabres. We might look back on this game as just a record 47-save shutout for Carter Hutton or a record back-to-back plus forty save shutout for him; but this game was not what the score shows. LA never fighting in this game and the Sabres got some luck from the posts. Maybe this team learned something last night. In a tired win against a rested squad perhaps they learned you have to keep coming back, you got to cash in your opportunities or even games you should win will not go your way. The Sabres were not punished for their mistakes last night and they take two points from this one, but they have to be thinking about how the massive Kings counterattack nearly ruined it on multiple occasions. The frequency of occasions this game could’ve gotten away from them was a relative stats class on how to not protect a lead. Nonetheless they did. This was a silly shutout but those count all the same. We’ll talk about some advanced stats that show our Sabres lost their hold on it but at the end of the day the only stat that matters is the score and Buffalo won in that category 3-0.

Casey Mittelstadt was snake-bitten, at least in the goal scoring department. The eternal child looked absolutely elated to get the no goals monkey off his back. Jimmy Greasy Vesey similarly finally got on the scoresheet with an assist on the first goal of this game. The two were streaming into the zone… I don’t know… medium speed (?) and Vesey got the puck to Mittelstadt who sniped it home through a defender and Kings goalie Jake Campbell. You could see the relief both of them had with the outcome of that play. That goal came 2:36 into the game while a little over two minutes late at 5:20 into the first the visitors got their second goal of the game. This time Conor Sheary is getting Casey Mittelstadt into the zone at a faster rate of speed and receives the puck from the boy wonder to quick-fire a puck past Campbell. Campbell must have thought Mittelstadt was going to take the shot. 2-0 Sabres and we’re not even ten minutes into this game yet. As awesome as that was I may regret staying up for this game. The Kings are like if Jurassic Park was real. Yes, they have the killer instinct and the never-say-die attitude still that I mentioned earlier, but like a lot of dinosaurs they’re kind of slow and unwieldy. I’m not kidding when I say that 1-0 goal looked like it was in slow motion. Such a speed-of-smell team is then the perfect foil for a very hot Buffalo Sabres powerplay. After we were already up 2-0 the PP opportunity just absolutely grinded to a halt. There was not a shot on the Kings goal during the full two minutes. That first period powerplay was something microcosm of this game: the Sabres getting only non-dangerous token chances but the Kings just not being able to convert when they got the chance. In this whole first period the Sabres managed only 7 shots scoring on two of them while the Kings shot 11 times.

If you were watching this game as a fan of neither team for some reason the second period was probably the most interesting. As the period goes on the Buffalo Sabres are just caved in in terms of corsi by the LA Kings. I am not smart guy either, so I have been training myself in the ways of this sensei called Corsi for a couple years now. Corsi is an attempt to make a stat about shot differential that makes sense. The guy who invented it, Tim Barnes, was actually inspired to do so after listening to former Buffalo Sabres General Manager Darcy Regier talk so much about shots. Barnes wanted to name it the Regier number or the Ruff number for then-Sabres Coach Lindy Ruff, but both didn’t sound right to him. If he hadn’t been going by a fake name himself he should’ve called the stat Cellino because what combination of names would pay better homage to Western New York than Cellino and Barnes? *Ba dum tis* See what I did there? Anyway, Corsi includes shots on goal, missed shots on goal and blocked shot attempts. In effect it’s how much your team is actually getting puck to the opposition net to put it another way. That also why it breaks down to several sub-categories like 5 on 5 corsi or corsi for and against but I’m already starting to confuse myself here. Feel free to correct me on that description, Chad. By the time the second period is nearing an end the Kings’ corsi is +25 to Buffalo’s -25. The statistical lopsidedness of this game only grew as the game went on. And here’s the thing: the Kings were getting chances galore. Marco Scandella is having a bounce back season so far, but he delivered a goal on a silver platter Ilya Kovalchuk in the second when he squirts the puck (#SabresAfterDark) out from a puck battle behind the Buffalo net to nobody on his team. Kovalchuk was right there, got the puck one-on-one with Carter Hutton at just about point blank with no Sabres defender nearby and fired it wide. They call Alex Ovechkin the Russian machine that never breaks, Ilya Kovalchuk is the Russian machine that broke before the last lockout. Anze Kopitar got a chance earlier where he out-maneuvered Hutton in front but the Sabres’ goaltender’s skate stopped the goal. It’s more or less miraculous the Kings didn’t score through the middle period. You know who did? Yea, Casey Mittelstadt again. LOL.

Our favorite broken Russian machine cross-checked Rasmus Ristolainen and sent the visitors off to a powerplay. Ristolainen then collected a rebound and shot it in Casey’s direction where he was parked in front of the net. Campbell once again failed to track the puck and it ended up in the net behind him. At first it wasn’t clear if Mittelstadt touched the puck at all or if it went in off Kings defender Alec Martinez, but it was credited to Casey. Y’all have two Cups this decade, you don’t get to be upset. And so Mittelstadt was on the Hat trick hunt but because of the aforementioned growing statistical lopsidedness of this game that third Casey goal never came. The third period was wild. I’m told it was at least because admittedly I was in and out of consciousness. I’m no party boy and am no good after midnight. There was only one powerplay and no goals or other big game events in the final frame other than Buffalo holding on for dear life so let’s talk about another advanced stat. This one is a bit easier to wrap your head around then corsi: Expected Goals (xG). Think of expected goals as a combination of various danger-levels of shots on net plus goalie stats mixed in for some flavor. The name is almost self-explanatory, but this stat is literally how many goals should be scored if there was no luck and randomness in the game. Imagine only robots played hockey. If they were flawless robots who didn’t get malfunctions of any kind they would always meet the expected goals statistic. This game is played by humans though, so this stat often shows just how much a team overcomes to get a result. This stat is also often the base stat for all those fun heat maps the nerdiest of stats nerds feel the need to post without any explanation what we’re looking at. The software Chad DeDominicis uses plots it out rather well if you ask me. He tweeted a map of the expected goals and scoring chances for the third period and let me just say Wow. There are a lot of big, scary Kings circles representing high-danger chances right in front of the Sabres net while not so many large circles for Buffalo in front of the Kings net. Though the Sabres won this game 3-0 they were outshot… wait for it… 47 to 24. That’s a record-breaking shutout for Carter Hutton and an opposition outshooting us more than 2 to 1. But hey, we won.

Jimmy Vesey had a pretty decent game for once. I heard his voice for the first time in that interview with Rob Ray in the first intermission. Speaking of people who had a good game, Rob Ray was 100% Rob Ray for this game. He had funny walk up skit in the pregame and fumbled through the aforementioned interview like a champ. We should all have a conversation about Rob Ray at some point about whether we’ve turned him into a self-referential joke about hockey culture but that’s for another day. I brought this postgame to Stats Class, the class I hated the most in undergrad mind you, because this game is pulled straight from the Sabres win streak of last season. They were jobbed statistically and apart from coming back from behind late in the game they exhibited every quality of our fun but ill-fated Fall folly last year. I don’t want to think this is what undergirds the Sabres torrid start and statistically speaking the other wins so far this season show progress and sustainability. I’m all for my club getting shutouts but not like this. I don’t think I can do New Look Sabres reply guy tweet of the game today. By the time Sabres twitter was engaged in this game it was a little too late for quippy tweets, maybe Sunday night when I postgame the Sharks game. For now like, share and comment on this blog to help out. I’ll admit I was totally wrong that they would powerbomb the Kings from lower-earth orbit. I’ll be honest I just like saying that phrase. Here’s a question you could answer in your comment on this blog: What do we think of our first back-to-back of the season? Did it actually effect either game or was it not notable in any meaningful way? Now it’s Evander Kane and the San Jose Sharks on Saturday night to wrap up #SabresInCali. I suspect I’ll be #AndrewInBed before the final horn sounds on that one.

Thanks for Reading.

P.S. I’m fully out of steam on the #SabresAfterDark front. I think I peaked with challenge the goal, daddy.