#Kids Who Like Gross Stuff trio

[sannin-three]

Tsunade and Orochimaru first met when Tsunade ditched her lessons to go play in the forest and get her clothes and hands dirty for a change. She bumped into this weird pale kid who was sticking their arms down into random holes to look for snakes. She asked them if they were afraid of being bit and they said, "No. Snakes like me. Plus their venom doesn't affect me," which is like the coolest thing she's ever heard. So she shows them a slug she's been carrying around in her pocket and instead of saying anything about it being gross, they just nod and say, "Cool."

BAM, instant best friends.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

hii! so happy for you and your 500! ^_^

i really loved how you wrote isagi! could i request something like listening to music and sharing earphones with him? and while he's commenting about the music reader told him to listen, reader finds herself staring at him. and maybe isagi's friends are secretly filming them bc of how cringey (lovingly) their relationship are HSHS feel free to ignore, thank youu!!

── READ IT AND WEEP!

Synopsis: You and your boyfriend listen to some music together, while an unlikely trio of strikers watches in disgust/fascination/apathy at the scene before them.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Isagi x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 1.8k

Content Warnings: fluffy to a corny extent tbh but it’s okay it’s cute, chigiri and bachira are dumbasses (affectionate), nagi is an unwilling accomplice, karasu converts nagi into a subway surfers kid offscreen

A/N: anonnnn i’m so glad to hear you liked pathways isagi!! and tysm for the congrats 💖 i hope you didn’t think i ignored this, i’m sorry it took me a bit to get to! i did incorporate your suggestion at the end hehe i love a good opportunity to write shenanigans…i wasn’t sure which characters to pick but for some reason the three i chose were calling to me HAHA they just felt like they would be the ones to do smth like that!!

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

“It reminds me of you,” you explained as Isagi made a face at the bright pink album cover of the song you were trying to convince him to listen to. “Stop trying to be all macho and cool! It’s not like your friends are around to judge you for listening to basic pop music instead of your normal stuff. Come on, I know you’ll like it.”

“Okay,” he said hesitantly. “Let me read the lyrics first.”

“What kind of spoiler is that? Just listen to the song!” you said.

“I can’t understand the lyrics if I just listen to the song, and you said that it reminds you of me, so I want to know what you mean by that,” he said.

“How about you read the lyrics afterwards?” you bargained. He shook his head resolutely.

“No, because then the listening experience won’t be as strong,” he said. Sighing, you looked up the song’s lyrics and handed him your phone, holding onto his bicep and reading over his shoulder as he scrolled through the singer’s downright over-the-top articulations about how much she loved her boyfriend.

“It doesn’t sound as crazy when she’s singing it,” you muttered when Isagi’s ears turned red.

“No, no, this is sweet,” he said, pretending to cough in an attempt to disguise his laughter. “I can’t believe you think so highly of me.”

“Of course I do,” you said. “You’re my one and only boyfriend. You’re not the only one who gets to be cheesy, you know. I do as well — though only sometimes. Certainly not anywhere near as often as you are.”

“Right, being cheesy is my role,” he said, his cheek resting against your hair as you slumped into him. “Okay, since this is your way of showing affection, and since the lyrics are so charming, I guess I should probably listen to it. Give me one of your earbuds.”

“Gross, you didn’t bring your own?” you teased even as you handed one over to him. He rolled his eyes, shoving it into his ear, kissing your forehead as he did so.

“Super gross, I know,” he said. “You can play it whenever you’re ready.”

The familiar notes of the intro played, but you had played the song a million times before, so you hardly paid attention. Instead, you focused on Isagi, the way he frowned slightly as the first verse began, like he was concentrating very hard. It was endearing, that he was putting so much effort into the simple task; you knew it would’ve been much easier for him to pretend to be interested so he could get it over with, but he had never been like that. If you asked him to do something, he would put a hundred percent into it, a hundred percent or sometimes more, just so that he could make you happy.

You noticed, idly at first and then on purpose, that his body was different, his face angular in a way that it hadn’t been when he had left for Blue Lock. It was these changes you took stock of as he sat in peace, eyes shut as he listened to the music. He looked less like a boy and closer to the man he would one day become. You wondered how much he would change the next time he left, if you would even recognize him when he came back again.

In the end, though, you concluded that no matter how he had grown and how he was yet to grow, he was still at his core your Isagi. Isagi who listened to your music and gave piggyback rides to your younger siblings. Isagi who stopped in convenience stores so he could buy snacks for the stray cats and helped you pick what clothes you should wear for any given event. Isagi who loved you and who you loved in return.

“It’s really good,” he said, startling you out of your daze. “I liked it more than I thought I would! She has a really good voice, and you’re right — it does all sound much more natural when she’s singing it.”

“Is it getting added to the playlist?” you said.

“Hm,” he said. “Maybe the one I listen to at home, but I don’t know what the others would say if I was on speaker duty during one of our workouts and that started blasting. I think Barou and Raichi would probably die.”

You didn’t know that much about either of those two, but from what little Isagi had told you, that sounded in character enough, so you nodded in agreement.

“Good enough for me. It’s okay, I’m not mad! See, I have different playlists for different occasions, too, so it only makes sense that you would as well,” you said.

“I’m glad you’re not upset. I really do like it, just so you know. Send me more songs like it when you get home — I want to make a playlist of ones that remind me of you,” he said. 

“Why, so you can play it during your group workouts and make your single teammates jealous?” you said, elbowing him in the side. He chuckled.

“Nah, that would be cruel. I think I’ll bring my own pair of headphones to Blue Lock — I’ve definitely scored enough goals that they’ll let me keep them at this point — and whenever I miss you, I’ll listen to it,” he said.

“Oh,” you said, swallowing, taken aback at the casual way he always said such romantic things. “Um, well, if you have your phone, you could also just text me…”

It was his turn to be taken aback. “Oh, right. I guess I could do that too…but if you’re asleep, then I’ll listen to it! We get up pretty early, you know, and I don’t want to wake you when you should be resting.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you said. “But let’s not talk about you leaving right now. For the moment, I’m glad you’re on break and can spend time with me.”

“Me, too,” he said. “I love you, Y/N. Just as much as that singer loves her boyfriend. Actually, more.”

“I love you, too,” you said. “More than that singer could ever love anyone. Way more.”

He exhaled through his nose, and then he wrapped his arm around your waist, scooting impossibly closer to you on the park bench the two of you were sharing and humming the melody of the song as you watched people walk by. 

“Nagi!” Chigiri hissed from where he, Bachira, and Nagi were hiding in a bush — or at least, they were trying to. It was somewhat difficult to hide the towering Nagi, who was also not exactly cooperating in their covert mission or participating in their attempt at masterful disguise. “Did you get it?”

“What?” Nagi said with a yawn, still holding his phone up, pointed towards where Isagi and his girlfriend — the girlfriend whose existence they had all been convinced was a myth or tall tale — were sitting together. “Get what? Why are we even here? You guys told me that we were leaving the bowling arena to get snacks.”

“Give me that!” Chigiri said, snatching the phone from Nagi, who whined in protest. Bachira hushed him, reaching up to pat him on the head, though that only made Nagi pout like a child. “What? Why is this open to Subway Surfers?”

“Oh, Karasu downloaded it on my phone while we were all in the arcade, and I’ve been playing it ever since,” Nagi explained. “It’s kind of fun. I’m trying to get the national high score.”

“You were supposed to be filming Isagi and The Girlfriend!” Bachira said, emphasizing the words ‘the girlfriend’ as if she was some kind of legendary being. “That’s why we brought you along! You’re always playing on your phone, so it wouldn’t be suspicious for you to have it out, but you were secretly supposed to be taking videos as blackmail, not actually playing on it!”

“You guys didn’t tell me that,” Nagi said. “You told me that we were all going to buy chips and fruit jellies together.”

“We literally told you,” Chigiri said, face-palming. “We said when we got here, ‘look, Nagi, that’s Isagi and his girlfriend. Take a video of them.’ Anyways, why else would we be standing in a bush so creepily if we weren’t doing reconnaissance?”

Nagi shrugged. “Dunno, maybe it’s a common hobby or something.”

Chigiri narrowed his eyes at him, unable to discern if he was being serious or not. He decided to err on the side of caution, given how genuinely strange most of his Blue Lock peers were. “It’s not.”

“Okay, you know what? It’s fine. They’re still there, so we can get some footage now!” Bachira said, taking Nagi’s phone from Chigiri and using it to take pictures of Isagi and his girlfriend as they curled up with one another on the park bench.

“Use your own phone,” Nagi said, though he didn’t try to take the device back by force — it would be a hassle, and he was pretty sure that Bachira would give it back soon.

True to form, Bachira sent the photos to a group chat he created with himself, Nagi, and Chigiri, and then he gave Nagi his phone back, earning him a quiet cheer as Nagi was finally able to return to Subway Surfers.

“These are perfect,” Chigiri said. Nagi, whose little avatar had just been caught by the policeman, scowled slightly.

“By the way, why do you guys think that these are worthy of being used as blackmail?” he said.

“Uh, because it’s embarrassing that Isagi of all people is so lovey-dovey?” Bachira said.

“Exactly,” Chigiri said.

“I think it’s more embarrassing that he has a girlfriend and no one else does,” Nagi said conversationally, without even looking up from the screen. Bachira and Chigiri exchanged horrified looks and then, in unison, whipped out their phones to delete the offending material, Chigiri also taking the liberty of doing the same on Nagi’s.

“I can’t believe we didn’t consider that angle,” Bachira said, shaking his head. “Nagi, man, you’re a lifesaver.”

Nagi grunted, obviously uninterested in Bachira’s praise. 

“This is why they call him the lazy genius,” Chigiri said in approval. “Listen, the three of us are the only ones who can confirm the existence of Isagi’s girlfriend. That means that the next time he brings her up, we have to double down on denying it. You guys in?”

“Yup, sounds like fun!” Bachira said. “Nagi?”

Nagi looked up at them. “Will you guys pay for my chips and fruit jellies like you said you would?”

Chigiri and Bachira glanced at one another before nodding, silently agreeing to split the bill. 

“Sure, we got it!” Bachira said.

“Just don’t expect anything on the same level as whatever Reo buys you. We’re not that rich!” Chigiri said. Nagi shrugged.

“Whatever,” he said. 

“Then it’s a deal!” Chigiri said.

“Deal!” Bachira said.

“Deal,” Nagi agreed, shoving his phone in his pocket as the three of them traipsed towards the closest convenience store, leaving Isagi and Y/N blissfully alone and unaware that they had ever been there in the first place.

[louloulemons-posts]

Hello! I saw that you are accepting requests for strangeк things and I decided to try ... I really like reading your work and I would like you to write my idea if it's not difficult for you. In general, I sincerely believe that there is very little jealous!Eddie in the world and it kills me. What if Eddie and reader aren't together YET, but Munson is so damn jealous of her for Steve, and Steve and reader don't understand why Eddie is so...mean

+ extra points if Dustin solved all the problems again 😐😐

Sorry if this is too long and stupid! Love you!!!

Words Of Jealousy

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Summary : Eddie can’t stand reader and she has no clue why.

Word count : 2.1k

Warnings : Not proofread, some parts were written at 3am and some at a normal time (i can only apologise i love napping) swears, eddies stupid, minor angst, eddies mean to reader, reader shouts at eddie, reader panics about death (it’s kinda funny), brief talks about the upside down, happy ending, fluffy, idiots in love.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You don’t really know why’s it like this, but it always had been. Eddie didn’t like you that much was clear. Snide comments, eye rolls, chuckling when you embarrass yourself.

All in all he was an asshole. He came into your friend group a few months back, you’d seen him around before that, but hadn’t interacted much.

Steve Harrington had been your best friend since Pre-K, being inseparable (minus the King Steve - which you’ll forever tease him for) A lot of people assumed you’d end up together, however, the idea of that was gross to both of you.

You had dealt with the whole Upside Down situation also, becoming close with a lot of other people - including Robin Buckley, your other bestfriend and third of your trio.

“So I was thinking, we could have a movie night?” Steve said, his parents had been back for a week and had now gone on another business trip. He needed a fun night after dealing with those two trolls.

“Sounds good, but you’re not picking,” you spoke. “Why not?”

“Because your movie taste is awful,” Robin spoke, shoving a handful of M&Ms into her mouth. “What the hell? It’s not, I literally work in a movie store!”

“Which makes it so much worse,” you sighed, leaning your head on robins. “I’ll pick them out,” Robin spoke.

“Now you I trust.” She leaned her head back and kissed your chin.

“Fine fine, I’ll invite people.”

“Who are people?” you asked.

“Well you know, Nance, Jonathan, the kids, and you know …” he mumbled something.

“What was that?” He mumbled again.

“Couldn’t quite hear you Stevie.”

“Eddie.” You rolled your eyes, groaning. “He’s not that bad!” Steve tried to say.

“To you. He’s horrible to me and I don’t even know why!”

The bell to the store jingled, a sign that someone had walked in. “Speak of the devil,” you said, kissing Robin on the top of the head before jumping off the counter. “I’ll see you guys later,” you said to Robin and Steve, kissing the boys cheek as you passed.

“Aw going so soon Sweetheart?” Eddie asked, exaggerated pout on his face. “Oh bite me,” you said, shoulder bumping him as you went past.

What an asshole.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Steve had called you later on and apologised about the fact that Eddie was coming. He had begged you to come also, of course you said yes. You didn’t like Eddie, but that wouldn’t ruin your relationship with your best friend.

Climbing out of the car with your bag - you planned on staying the night, like most nights. You walked into Steve’s house, calling out a greeting.

“Hey,” he shouted back, head popping round a corner. “I’m taking my stuff upstairs, I’ll be back in a minute.” Jogging upstairs and into your allocated room you placed your bag on the bed. Pulling out your hoodie you slid it on heading back downstairs.

Coming out of the door, you bumped into someone, “Oh shit sorry Stevi- oh,” you spoke, meeting the eyes of a metal head.

“Watch yourself Sweetheart.” Walking away from him you began your decent on the stairs.

“Not talking to me today?” he asked.

“Ha, you’re funny,” you spoke, sarcasm lacing your tone. “Oh yeah, why’s that?” Stopping on a step and turning to him, “Why the hell would I waste my time?”

“Come on Sweetheart don’t be like that!”

“Jesus christ Eddie can you just shut up for one fucking second. I get you don’t like me, but I’m not here for you I’m here for our friends, so get your head out your house.”

His face went still, the playful glimmer leaving his eyes and jaw clenching. “I was teasing, maybe you should stop being such a bitch for once in your life,” he snarled, stomping past you.

As you said - asshole.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Woah, you okay Eddie?” Dustin asked him.

“Princess’ got an issue today,” he rolled his eyes, sighing. “Let’s be honest, you’re not the nicest to her,” Steve spoke up, pulling a can of cola from the fridge for the boy.

“Doesn’t mean she gets to-”

“Eddie I’m telling you this as your friend, you insult that girl in front of my and I’ll break your nose,” Steve spoke, popping the tab and sliding the can to him.

The boy sighed again, taking a gulp of the drink. “Not everyone ends up liking each other and being friends Eddie, don’t take it personally,” Dustin tried to comfort him.

“I wouldn’t want to be her friend.”

“Well lucky me, cause that’s the last thing I want,” you spoke, appearing in the kitchen, making all three of them jump. Eddie almost seemed to wince when he saw you.

“ I get you don’t like me, but do not come in here and speak badly of me to MY friends. You have an issue I get that, you are rude and mean to me all the time and I don’t have a clue why, honestly I don’t care,” you took a breath.

“But do not, speak badly of me to my friends. I would have happily been buds with you, but you don’t want that clearly, every time I’ve been nice you’ve been cruel. Maybe grow up Eddie, fucking asshole,” you spoke.

After he left you on the stairs, you’d turned around and grabbed the bag. You couldn’t do this, even for Steve, you didn’t want to ruin the night with that horrible tension and simmering bitterness.

Turning on your heal you left the house heading to your car, heading your name called behind you. “I’m sorry Steve, just have a good night. I call you tomorrow and me, you and Robs can do something okay.” Kissing his cheek, you climbed in and headed off.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You didn’t drive home, you felt many things. Angry. Upset. Tired. You never had a solid reason why he didn’t like you and you know, like Dustin said, not everyone gets along. But he got along with everyone else - why not you?

You car clunked. Shit. Could this day be any more shit? It was getting dark too. You had no signal. And you were down a creepy side road. You were dead, that was simple.

Heading to the front of your car, you opened your car up. Smoke flooding your lungs. Well shit, you weren’t bad with cars, but you weren’t a magician. This definitely needed a mechanic.

Looking around you knew where you were, but the walk was far and it wasn’t that safe. You climbed back into the car, placing your head on the steering wheel. All you could do was wait here for now and hope that someone drove passed (preferably not a murderer) or sleep there until morning (and didn’t get killed).

Thank god for your hoodie, Autumn was rolling in quickly this year. Only a few days into September and it was sending a chills all over you - that could also be fear. If a light flickered, you’d vomit on the spot.

You sighed, well you’d better get comfy for now. The sunset was a beautiful sight, but also scary and you wished it would stop.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You’d been there for a while now, not wanting to waste your gas. It was cold and dark, and you could cry.

The car filled with light, looking behind you, a vehicle drove down the road. Squinting, you tried to make out what it was - a van. Oh shit, yes definitely dead.

Panicking, you tried to start the car again. No use. The lights of the van remained on, but the door of it slammed. Throwing yourself out of the car, you saw the large figure coming towards you.

Attempting to walk as quickly as you could without sprinting, you heading down the road and away from whoever it was. “Hey!” you heard a voice, but continued on your way.

Gravel crushed under two sets of feet, one moving alarmingly quick now. Hands gripped your shoulders and you screamed, squirming to get away. “Hey hey! Sweetheart calm down!” The voice said loudly now.

Shoving away from the person you almost cried out, “Eddie? What the hell?”

“Are you okay?” he asked, hands visible to you, as if you were a scarred animal. “Oh yeah, minus the minor heart attack I’m great.”

“What are you doing out here?”

“My car broke down,” you sighed.

“Have you been here since you left Steve’s.”

“Pretty much.”

“Sweetheart you left 5 hours ago, people are worried.”

“What?” you asked, “Why would anyone be worried?”

“Well …,” he began.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Steve walked back into the kitchen, hand running through his hair. “What is your issue with her?” he snapped at Eddie, unable to ignore the behaviour anymore.

“I don’t have an issue! She’s just not my type of person!”

“Not your type of person, she’s everyone’s type of person. She’s sweet and kind and just lovely.”

“She’s you best friend, you’d think that!”

“So what you just hate her for no reason?”

“I don’t hate her!”

“Then why do you behave the way you do?”

“He likes her,” Dustin spoke up, munching on a potato chip. The older boys turned and looked at her. “W-what?” Eddie asked.

“You can deny it all you want, but you’re acting like most young boys do when they like people. Tease them, which in all honesty is so stupid.”

“Is it true? Do you like her?” Steve asked.

“N-no! I wouldn’t! I wouldn’t do that to you!”

“Do what to me?” Steve asked cocking his head, purely confused. “S-she’s your girl.”

“Yeah my best friend. But she’s not my girl in a romantic sense. That’s gross, we’ve know each other forever, she’s basically my sister.”

“What?” Eddie asked, not really a question.

“God you’re stupid. Go after her,” Dustin sighed. “Henderson’s right, go,” Steve spoke. Eddie nodded, running out of the house and to his van.

Driving to your home he was confused not to see you car there, but knocked the door none the less. Pulled open, he came face to face with your mother. “Oh hello, can I help you?” No judgement at all - that wasn’t common.

“Hi, I’m Eddie. I’m a uh … friend of your daughters. I was just wondering if she was home?”

“Sorry Honey, she’s staying at a friends tonight. I can get her to call you when she’s home,” she smiled at him softly.

“Thank you,” he nodded, raising a hand in goodbye, heading back to his car. “Where are you Sweetheart?” He mumbled to himself.

Deciding that heading back to Steve’s was the best option, to see if she’d cooled off and gone back. He panicked when he saw the absence of your car, Steve would know where you’d go.

Running in the house, he didn’t even bother to knock, calling out for your bestfriend. “You’re back?” he questioned.

“If she wasn’t home where would she be?”

“She’s not home?”

“No,” the metal head sighed.

“Shit.”

“Yeah shit.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“We’ve been looking for you for hours Sweetheart.”

“I didn’t mean to worry anyone, I just didn’t want to walk in the dark.”

“You’re lucky it was me who found you.”

“I know.”

“Seriously you could have been hurt, why didn’t you go home?”

“Because I needed to clear my head!”

“So you come to somewhere unsafe.”

“I was passing through! Why are you so bothered?” you almost shouted at him.

“Because I’d never forgive myself if you got hurt because of me!”

“Why?”

“How can you not know?”

“Know what?”

“I like you! For fuck sake! This is what all of this has been about. I thought you were with Steve and I’d rather you be happy with him and hate me then be nice and let me fall in love with you,” he said in one breath.

“Wha-“

“I know it’s stupid and childish, but I don’t really know how to talk to girls I like! And I panicked and I didn’t want Steve to hate me for liking his girlfriend.”

“‘M not his girlfriend.”

“I know that now.”

“You like me.”

“I do.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I am.”

“I’ve liked you since Middle School.”

“I kno- Wait what?”

“You heard me. Now can you help me with my car because I am freezing.”

“Oh uhh yeah sure. I can get my Uncle to call his buddy to tow it to the shop.”

“Thank you Eddie.”

You headed back to your cars, side by side. “You really like me?” he asked.

“I do. You’d know that if you got to know me.”

“Yeah I guess so.”

“You can make it up to me.”

“How so?” You smiled slightly, then linked your fingers through his ring covered ones. “Take me on a date Munson.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A/N : I hope you enjoyed this request it was really fun to do more jealous Eddie, but I had to make it happy in the end.

I am having major writes block so if you have any ideas of requests or stuff let me know. I’m currently back in my criminal mind phase so if you’d be interested in fics about the guys from that (-mainly spencer lmao) let me know 🤍

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

[drowningindango]

What I kinda love about the sannin group is that every single one of them has slimy summons.

In other media, I'm so used to the "legendary" trios being accompanied by more “mainstream” animals. Like, sure, snake is one common favourite too (especially for villains), but frog. And snail. It's the stuff that initially makes many people go "ewww, gross" as a first reaction. And here are some of the strongest shinobi, celebrated and admired, who have them as companions.

Tsunade, Jiraya and Orochimaru were probably the “weirdo” kids on the playground. Tsunade never batting an eye when anyone tries to chase her with a worm. Puts it on her hand and coos at the little fella before putting it back to a nice safe spot of earth. Jiraya is the one who DID chase the rest of the kids with worms after it didn’t work on Tsuna and could only be stopped after she makes him. Orochimaru ate the worm.

[thecluelessdoctor]

hi

so recently

i was watching a bunch of videos on blogthegreatrouge

and remembered my once love for PJs Daycare. but now i know its disgusting like.. so bad. so is she. i just. ugh.

so, im going to remake it. i mean remake that shit i will do my best to make it better. starting with removing all the fankids characters and ships because.. sanscest is w e i r d.

anyway, for the people who some how dont know what im talking about is heres a summery. if i spelled that wrong shut up no i didnt

Tw: SA, suicidal thoughts I suppose, gr00ming basically

pjs daycare was a AU for undertale made by blogthegreatrouge. the au, was as it says, a daycare. basically all the sans aus were children, from like 3-6 i think, and the characters were... sanscest ship characters or sans fusions. one of the caretakers, and our- basic mc, is Paperjam, or PJ, the fusion between ink sans and error sans. i say fusion because i think that what they were originally intended to be before the fandom... yoinked them. aslo i refuse to ship sans aus together because thats WEIRD AS ALL SHIT. anyway. those are the basics, shipkids/fusion sanses are the caretakers and the sanses are children. interesting concept ig (i will make it better trust)

ok now that we have the basics down, lets get to the story. this was a ask blog so there wasnt much story, but from what i do remember, there were 2 major plot lines. the first plot line was uhm. borderline gr00ming. basically fresh sans, the satire sans au, has a crush on PJ. this fresh is i think about 3 yrs old. so ok, hes a kid, kids are weird. he claims he wants to marry pj. again, child, children say that stuff alot. and you think pj would be yk, normal and be like " no no, we cant do that" nicely and shit. WELL HE DOESNT. THIS BITCH SAYS "we cant get married righ now, but when your all grown up we can ^^" IM SORRY HUH. SIR. WHAT. not only that, later, there is a ask of how would pj react to adult fresh. in which its super weird with really gross sexual tension. not only that, lets follow in this aus rule, aus made by the same creator/s are gonna be related. ok. error, fresh and geno/aftertale are brothers. kinda weird but lets keep going here. pj in rouges interpretation is a ship child. A SHIP CHILD. MEANING FRESHIE HERE IS IS UNCLE?? ITS SO WEIRD?? also there is a mini plot line where ink and error like each other and its a big deal even tho, again, CHILDREN. also same person but i digress.

our next plotline is... where shit hits the fan. so, error, gets deathly sick and needs to go to the hospital. didnt know monsters had hospitals but ok. geno, error's older brother who is at most, 5, gets really depressed. and ik depression can come at any age, however, GENO here tries to commit farewell. this. doesn't. make. sense. a child isnt old enough to even comprehend death that well, let alone have the feeling to die AND ACT ON IT. not only that, right after stopping geno from leaving this mortal plane (isnt he immortal though?) they completely forget about it and have this weird romance between palette and goth (swap sans and dream sans) (geno and reaper) and its super weird, and gross (not as gross as nerd and jock but still) and palette is weirdly obsessive over goth and shit so its all just a huge pile of SHIT

oh yeah there is also this weird plot line with like this trio of mini villains, one being rouges self insert i think so. yeah.

anyway, that was pj's daycare. i will be reworking and remaking the entirety of this au. so uh.

yeah.

it will be posted. anyway bye

[ratlordsarah]

the dream I woke up from at 2pm

So I went to sleep at 7am which is what I’ve been doing these past couple of days, which is starting to make my dreams really strange now

Anyways the dream starts off as house from the goofy 2000s medical drama drags me and my sister out the door of our home to some random person’s house, where a random asian guy who doesn’t speak English is sitting there (also not his house btw) and according to house, me and my sister are both trapped there until we find a way to make “intestine spaghetti” or something

after an hour, the bowls just filled up with intestines and stuff (it was really gross 💀) and we gave it to the guy to see what would happen, and he gobbled it up like a goblin, and turned into Gordon Ramsay, in which this was apparently a trap or something

the person who’s home we are in is none other than will wood’s house, and then he saves us from house and Gordon ramsay

after that’s done, will let me play with one of his rats, which was snooter man (absolutely the most chill and chunky boi ever 😭)

anyways, after playing with snooterman for a while, the rat did what rats do and pissed on my shoulder, but it was all good because it was apparently magic liquid of some sort??? Idk what it did, will told me to not worry about it 😭

as we leave will’s house, we go outside to see a huge slide made of intestines that a bunch of kids are in a line to ride, and it is filled to the brim in blood soup btw. when it is my turn, Gordon Ramsay flags me down as he starts to sing let it go from frozen, and my middle school principal starts yelling at me about the bite of ‘87

anyways, I go into the intestine slide and I have to climb back out because it is literally just a big noodle full of thick blood you swim in, and you can’t even go down because of it

anyways, will invites me back to the house for a rat play date, because I have rats too, and they actually become great buddies

now I am walking down the street back to my house as California dreamin is playing and it literally looks like how it is described outside during the song, and it was fall, but it looked like a warm summer night

invisibill and big left hand guy are tryna hitchhike and ask me to let them in my car, except I am walking down the street, not in a car, but I didn’t wanna let the two down, so we act like we are in a car, walking as a trio down a country road, until the pizza people come and try world domination

I was thoroughly disappointed when I woke up to realize that 1. It’s 2pm, and 2. My little sister is the one who woke me up, by yelling and screaming to my whole family about how “she’s still sleeping” 😭

I feel like the intestine bit was heavily induced because from 4am to 6am, I was watching a butt ton of irl videos of people violently dying 😭

like… the dream wasn’t scary or anything, but it was really weird 🤷

[rustbeltjessie]

I’ve known I’m bi for like, three years now, and I’m out to some people, but not all. Not Amelia and Ashley, for instance. It’s not that I’ve been hiding it, it’s just…     They’ve known each other since early childhood, whereas they’ve only known me for five years. They’re a couple years older than I am, and they treat me…not like I’m a baby, but like a kid sister. and I haven’t tried very hard to correct that. There’s a lot of stuff they don’t know about me. I’ve mentioned some of my crushes—on boys—to them, but only in passing. We don’t even have much in common. They’re kind of hippies. I’ve long been the alterna-teen of the trio, and in the past year I’ve started to lean more towards the punk rock end of that. You know: hair dyed funny colors, combat boots and studded jewelry, patches sewn on all my hooded sweatshirts. And they were a bit freaked out by my transformation. Especially Amelia, who said: “I’m afraid you’re gonna get all angry and mean, now.” To which I replied: “I’ve been angry. For years! But I’ve never been mean, have I?”     We’re friends of proximity. We live within walking distance of each other’s houses. We like to go down to Lake Michigan, get stoned; climb around on the rocks, try not to fall in, stay clear of the poison ivy and the wild critters, watch the moon rise. Then we go back to Amelia’s house because usually her mom’s not home, and we get more stoned; cook a frozen pizza, try not to set the kitchen on fire like we did that one time; watch a dumb movie.     But now I’m gonna have to come out to them. I mean I guess I don’t have to, but it seems preferable to the other option of continuing to let Ashley make wild speculations about me.

When I manage to stop laughing long enough to catch my breath, I tell Amelia: “Fine, fine. Okay. Ashley’s half-right. I’m bi.”     (Six months or so later, when Chasing Amy is finally out on VHS and I rent it from Blockbuster, I wish I’d seen it sooner. Then, instead of saying: “I’m bi,” I could’ve said: “I’m an experimental girl, for Christ’s sake!”)     Thank god, Amelia doesn’t say anything like: “Ugh, gross, you’re not gonna hit on me, are you?!” She only says: “Oh, that’s cool.” And then we move on to talking about other stuff. I know she’ll tell Ashley next time they talk, and hopefully now Ashley will stop diagnosing me with various sexualities and -phobias.

—Jessie Lynn McMains, from “A Map from Point A to Point B” (Hello America Lit, August 2023)

[sharksa-shivers]

Part 2 of last post cuz yeah, Sharky end And Max info

Sharky cont- --- *One of Sharky's more animal-esc characteristics is that true to real sharks, he can barf his stomach up...Like the entire fucking organ. He FUCKING HATES that he can do it but he can lmao. He doesn't really know how to control it really yet either but he can force it if he has to. He usually does it whenever he's eaten way too goddamn much/eaten something real fuckin bad or he's stressed as fuck/scared as fuck/disgusted as fuck. So that's fun. (He could control it if he wanted to, sharks like Slash can do it on command lol) *Out of The Trio, Sharky's defs the best cook. Mostly because Amber's the main one who cooks at the Campsite and she's taught him a tonnnnnnnnnnn in that regard...So if something has to be cooked, usually it's Sharky doing it cuz he knows how to do it and do it well. Sharky usually likes baking the most if he had to pick something he likes doing the most in the kitchen. *Sharky does like food alot but he downplays tf out of it alot because he doesn't wanna be seen as 'that kinda shark' to which his friends are like "Bruh, cmon lmao..." --- Max- *Max is a goddamn trash goblin and will like...try anything at least once as long as it's not poison (cuz duh) and if it's not fish related (fish make him sick) so like...If you gave Max a chocolate shake with hot sauce and pickles blended into it, Max absolutely fucking would...Probably without hesitation either...And then he'd tell you you'd have to try alot fuckin harder to gross him out lmao... *Max sometimes will legit eat inedible things...Because as stated above, he's a trash goblin. He literally fucking is lmao...He also will eat out of the trash without hesitation too. (he says he's had to do it a ton as a stray kid on the streets so...Doing it at 14/15 doesn't bother him at all. Not a shred lmao...) *Max does get into alcohol at some bits, mostly stealing it from adults around him...Max is constantly trying to find stuff to numb his depression so...Booze is a classic option in that catagory of stuff and Max does know that... *Max is a goddamn cryptid anomly we do not understand...Thus he can easily outeat Sharky like 30x's over and Max doesn't ever gain weight...Everrrrrrrrr really...Which actually gets on his nerves alot, he wants more weight to throw around in fights lol...Max also gets annoyed genuinely too that he seemingly is never really ever satisfied/full. It's very fucking weird and nobody understands how Max functions in that sense... *Max says there is a difference between his constant never ending hunger and like...hunger hunger like 'i need food or i'm gonna be in some shit soon'...He says the hunger hunger is alot stronger and feels like shit...It's alot stronger of a feeling then his usual constant nonstop hunger he feels all the time... *Despite being a dog, Max can eat chocolate and whatnot cuz he's an anthro. Anthros are more human-esc in some ways and more animal-esc in other ways...Depends on what aspects we're talking about but in that regard, anthro dogs are like humans, chocolate is fine for them...Which makes Max hella happy since he fuckin adores brownies... *Max should have died by cardiac arrest by now with how much fucking coffee he drinks but like so many other things, it doesn't affect him in negative ways really and we don't fucking know why... *Max knows how to cook but he is lazy and impatient alot whenever he does do it so...He usually doesn't lmao...

[camywamycam]

☆Boundries/Request rules!☆

i dont get good writing ideas often nor the motivation to write so when someone requests something it gives me motivation to write bc i feel like i have a deadline lolz so all requests are appreciated!!

☆Fandoms I Will Write For☆

HP Golden trio era

 Marauders era

 The lost boys 

TASM!Spiderman

 marvel

 the breakfast club

scream

kickass

the outsiders

the karate kid

Fantasic beasts

 and  whatever else i will add to this list in the future.

☆Things I Wont Write☆

maybe when Im older i will write smut but not right now because tbh i dont think anyone on this mostly adult app would want to read smut written by an inexperienced 14 year old who hasn't romantically held hands with someone since 4th grade lol

i wont write any age gaps bigger than 5 years!

even though i have crushes on fictional characters double my age i still feel kinda icky writing things like that bc i feel like im enabling it and making a safe space for creeps you know??

i will add nicknames if you want but not and daddy/mommy crap 

not to kink shame or anything but i find feel kinda grossed out with the mommy/daddy stuff idk, maybe only because i was an active wattpad user in the alt tiktok era

i will NOT participate in kinktober or slutty mondays or any adult tumblr holidays as such.

☆Things I Will Write☆

fluff, angst, poly, and maybe a little soft smut like heated making out but thats it.

☆interaction boundaries☆

im a home schooled teenager so i would appreciate it if any of you were to reach out to me to be friends since i dont get out much! 

im almost constantly online all year round except for summer since i go to a jewish camp so dont expect any summer content unless i only go for 4 weeks.

I'm mostly comfortable interacting with ages 12-19 so teens for the most part. I don't mind having older friends or older people act like an online motherly/fatherly figure. but if you act in an inappropriate way towards me like making sexual jokes with me or getting too involved with my personal life I will not hesitate to block you for my own online safety!

i would love to have friends in the online community but if you step out of line i will block you!!!

[starchild-hex]

Rules ~♡~

Rules for requests

I have very few rules for requesting, but I'm usually strict on them. I need the character you want, the pronouns you want used for the reader insert, and if you want the relationship to be platonic or romantic. I'll list out a few 'do's and 'Don't's when it comes to the material I will write, but besides that the only real set rules when it comes to requests are listed above. If you want a specific storyline, then please give a basic description of what you want, and if you don't have anything in mind, that's perfectly fine too!

'Do's & "Don't"s

DO NOT send a request that is romantizing illegal relationships or actions. 'Yandere' fics are in a grey area, and if I feel uncomfortable writing what you've requested, I will either ignore your request or change things and leave a small note at the start.

DO NOT send me any requests for romantic relationships with canonical aroace or aromantic characters (Lilith Clawthorne, Saiki, Mina Ashido, etc.)

DO send me requests with dark themes. I love writing tragic stories, and as long as it's not romantizing those dark themes, I will very likely write them.

DO NOT send me requests about SA. I may write comfort fics for those who went through SA, but I will not write any details about the actual SA. I've seen people writing vividly about r^pe, and it grosses me out.

DO NOT spam me if I do not do your request or take a while to do it. I have a life outside of writing, and even if it's a passion of mine, it's not my main focus. I have every right to ignore a request if it makes me uncomfortable.

DO send me requests with Polyamous and queer relationships. I love writing poly relationships and don't see enough stuff on here with them.

Fandoms and Character(s)

The Owl House - (Romantic or Platonic) Luz Noceda, Amity Blight, Willow Parks, Hunter Noceda-Deamonne, Edric Blight, Emira Blight, Eda Clawthorne, Alador Blight, and Darius Deamonne (Platonic) The Collector, King Clawthorne, Gus Porter, Lilith Clawthorne, and Eberwolf

My Hero Academia - (Romantic or Platonic) Izuku Midorya, Shoto Todoroki, Ochako Uraraka, Kyoko Jirou, Momo Yaoyorozu, Denki Kaminari, Hitsohi Shinsou, Shota Aizawa, Tomura Shigaraki, Dabi, Himiko Toga, and Bakugou Katsuki (Platonic) Tsuyu Asui, Mina Ashida, Eri, Koda, All Might, Rei Todoroki, Fuyumi Todoroki, Inko Midoryia, Tamaki Amajiki, and Miruko.

Demon Slayer - (Romantic or Platonic) Hashibira Inosuke, Tanjiro Kamado, Zenitsu Agatsuma, Giyuu Tomioka, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Genya Shinazugawa, Mitsuri Kanroji, Obanai Iguro, Tengen Uzui, Kyojuro Rengoku, and Gyataro (Platonic) Daki, Kanao Tsuyuri, Akaza, Kokoishibo, Nezuko Kamado, Shinobu Kocho, Kanae Kocho, Aoi Kanzaki, Muichiro Tokito, Gyomei Himejima

Deltarune - (Romantic or Platonic) Susie, Ralsei, Kris, Noelle, Berdly, Queen, and Seam (Platonic) Lancer, King, Toriel, Asgore, Sans, Spamton, Swatch, Sweet Cap'n Cakes Trio, Jevil, and Tasqye Manager

Undertale - (Romantic or Platonic) Sans, Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, and Mettaton (Platonic) Frisk, Chara, Napstablook, Toriel, Asgore, Asriel, and Monster Kid

Genshin Impact - (Romantic or Platonic) Xiao, Scaramouche/Wanderer, Kaeya, Diluc, Amber, Lisa, Ningguang, Yoimiya, Tartaglia, Venti, Aether, Lumine, Gorou, Beidou, Itto, Kazuha, Yae Miko, Ruebedo, Albedo, and Zhongli (Platonic) Xingqiu, Barbara, Collei, Fischl, Razor, Qiqi, Klee, Eula, Yanfei, Sayu, Bennett, Noelle, and Diona (This will likely change as I progress in the game)

Resident Evil - (Romantic or Platonic) Alcina Dimitrescu, Karl Heisenberg, Ethan Winters, Mia Winters, Donna Beneviento, Chris Redfield, Leon Kennedy, Ada Wong, Jake Muller, and Sherry Birkins (Platonic) Rose Winters, Jill Valentine, Claire Redfield, Piers Nivans, Salvatore Moreau, Bela Dimitrescu, Daniela Dimitrescu, and Cassandra Dimitrescu

Personal Information

You can refer to me as Hex, Moth, or Star, and I use they/them pronouns. I've lived in California my whole life, and as you can imagine, my work may be influenced by the rules and laws of my state. I may add more fandoms or characters to my writing list, so please check in on this page if you're curious about potentially added Fandoms! You can also request a media to be added to my list, and if I know the media or begin to interact with that media, I may add it to the list as well.

[kagender]

tamaam for the ask game please

holy fauk its radium boy.

Sexuality Headcanon: hes GAYYYY DUH🤚 everyone knows that. i like to think that he realized it only recently though.

Gender Headcanon: another painfully obvious one. he is a TRANSGUY!!!! DUUUUUUH!

A ship I have with said character: ill say it again i dont have any particularly strong feelings on keroro platoon ships. torotama is cute though. they would read reddit posts together

A BROTP I have with said character: not a bestieism one this time theyre actually just bros - kururus a big brother figure to him! i think they especially clicked cause of the fact that neither of them knew the rgb trio from childhood (OKAAAY i think them and kururu interacted in that keroball short but they were never friends) and also cuz of their past. i think they would kill for eachother actually and tamamas especially overprotective of the platoo cause of some stuff that happened to him. dont worry about the Stuff just know that i love found family

A NOTP I have with said character: we dont ship tamama with adults on this blog. love and peace etc let the kid just eat candy and play with keroros gundams or something. i guess kerotamas the worst offender cause its the most popular and also the anime luuuvs making weird jokes about them. i never want the lip episode to happen again okay? ill shut up now

A random headcanon: maybe a bit funny considering the post i reblogged before this but yeah he eats bugs. sorry i bring this up all the time. he eats bugs guys. and momoja thinks its gross but has to grow used to it. shes been introducing more and more normal human sweets to him though. so dont worry!

hes also the 2nd most tech savvy guy in the platoon if you exclude mois, thanks to being younger and stuff. was tamama an ipad kid? find out at 11

General Opinion over said character: he is a funny little guy who i could never hate because hes like actually fifteen years old. in my au at least

[badpancakelol]

The new school year brings close bonds between the Hellfire Club’s existing and new members. Eddie is dead set on graduating this year (and for your information, no, it is not because he’s going to be phased out and legally too old to attend anymore. He just thinks he can do it. Actually do it).

DND sessions run later than ever, and, you know what? It does actually bring a tear to his eye to see the youths enjoying the campaigns so much. Normally, the club will only bring in one or two new members every year — just enough to keep the club a club by school standards and regulations, but not enough to have a fully fleshed out group. But this time? This time, they’ve pretty much doubled their numbers.

And it’s not like they’re inexperienced players, either. From the way that the kids talk about their friend, Will, it seems like they used to play all the time before their friend-slash-dungeon-master moved states. 

(Eddie tries not to dwell on it too much — how they talk about what happened to Will. Sometimes it’ll seem like they’re talking about something completely different until he walks in, until they see him. He’s heard their not-so-quiet whispers about how Will was taken or how he had been hurt, how there’s nothing that can hurt him, now that he’s far away. That it stopped last year. 

There are context clues within there, and even though they never mention his last name, Eddie knows that their friend is Will Byers. He knows about how he went missing, how his body was found, how it wasn’t actually his body. He knows how people talked about him, about Jonathan. It doesn’t take a genius to know that there’s something that happened there that he’s not meant to be privy to, that nobody is really meant to be privy to.

So, Eddie takes to coughing loudly, or stomping his feet, or talking to the other guys in a way that is just loud enough to be heard, not loud enough to draw more attention to himself. If they want to, they’ll tell him. It sounds like they’ve been through enough mistrust).

The trio are weird in what, and especially who, they’re talking about. One day, they’re talking about how shit their grades are, who’s house they’re sleeping over at, normal teenager stuff, and then the next they’re talking about how they were there when the mall burned down. They talk about people he’d expect (Will, Jonathan, Nancy, Max) and then people who really just leave Eddie scratching his head (Steve, Robin, Hopper).

He hears so many out of context conversations, even when they know that he’s there. Yeah, maybe he doesn’t outright hear about Will and what happened to him anymore, but instead he’ll hear stories about Hopper being soft, and taking them to the pool, and how he one-hundred percent had a crush on Will’s mum, did you see the way he looked at her? There’s no way there wasn’t something going on. And, because they’re pre-teens, Dustin’s question (statement. It was a statement), is rewarded with a chorus of gross! and ew! and dude c’mon! 

Eddie will hear about Robin, and how she’s doing at work, how she’s doing at school, how they think she and Steve should just get together already. Well, it’s less Mike and Lucas talking about Robin like that, and more of Dustin pushing for the two to be together which — ouch? Eddie doesn’t know what exactly he feels when Dustin talks about how Robin seems to be doing better, or how she seems to be happy. Maybe a little bit of regret or guilt or something else that stings a little bit to know that he could have just came and said hello.

What he does find a little funny though, are Dustin’s continuous failed attempts to bring Robin and Steve together. It’s safe to say that he doesn’t know Robin’s secret, doesn’t know that she doesn’t swing that way at all, but whenever lunch rolls by, every week on a Thursday, and he’s talking about yet another failed date between the two, it makes Eddie huff a laugh. 

“Dude, Steve said that were just friends—”

“Platonic with a capital P, I know, Lucas, but they spend all their time together! Every waking moment!”

Eddie watches as Mike flicks off the tomatoes from his sandwich towards Dustin’s lunchbox. “Okay, and? Didn’t Steve say he was going on a date this weekend?”

“Yeah,” Lucas says, humming appreciatively slightly as the tomatoes are passed to him. “He had to move it so he could pick us up from DND tonight. Remember?”

“I remember.” Dustin says, rolls his eyes. Eddie thinks that he’s a little bit of a know-it-all, but it’s endearing. Most of the time.

That’s another thing — the pickups. It’s not like the kids use the last names of their friends all the time, and Eddie had really, really hoped that their older friend called Steve was very much a different person. But there’s only so much denying that he can do before he sees him, face to face, in the school parking lot after dark.

It goes like this: every week, every day that they have planned to sit through a session, inching their way to the end of the campaign, Harrington will waiting for them in the parking lot. He’ll sit on the hood of his car, close enough to still be illuminated by the school’s lights, far away enough that he’s hard to spot, smoking. And when the doors open and the kids rush out, he throws the cigarette to the floor and wafts away the smoke as if it’ll get the smell off him, as if the kids don’t already know. It is not endearing, and Eddie is note staring. Nope. Nuh uh.

But, sometimes, it’ll go like this: the session will run long, and since Eddie is the one that does most of the planning, brings most of the snack and drinks, the others clean up. He goes to the carpark in lieu of a smoke break while they pack, and he’ll go to the edge of the lights, where Harrington sits on the hood of his car. Eddie will say got a light? and Harrington will nod, and hold his hands over the end to shield the flame from the light breeze. 

The first few times, they don’t even speak. Just smoke in silence. 

“Thank you.”

“Hmm?” Eddie looks away from the doors of the school, towards where Harrington as leaned back a bit, tilted his head up to the stars.

“For looking out for them.”

Eddie nods, stores away the little bit of info that he has been gifted, that says that a heart exists within the boy next to him, and that the heart is filled with care. Just not for Eddie. 

They’re normally short conversations, and Eddie thinks that they both seem jealous of each other. Like, Eddie will mention how Mike will be so engaged, and Harrington will get this faraway look in his eyes, and then say that he’s happy that Mike seems so comfortable, that he’s found his people. Or, sometimes, Steve will say something about how Dustin invited him over for dinner, and there’s something that builds in his gut, roiling and bubbling and ugly.

Maybe Eddie’s just projecting. He hopes he’s not just projecting. 

He thinks there’s a part of him that wants Steve to be jealous of him. Because everywhere he goes it seems that Steve is already there — picking up Max, being friends with Dustin and Lucas and Mike. It’s… weird. To say the least. That they went from having nothing in common whatsoever to just— this.

The dam breaks open, then. Conversations are stilted and awkward, still, but it’s something. Eddie tries not to gush too much to Jeff and Gareth after they happen, lest he looks like a fool. With time, he realises that Steve is careful about what he says. He pauses in almost hidden movements, and he directs conversation to flow to something more meaningless, safe.

It’s like a little game that he plays. Eddie crosses off little conversation topics within his brain, too afraid to write them somewhere someone will see. Steve won’t talk about his family, his house, his money, reputation, holiday plans. Occasionally, he’ll talk about work. But work normally leads to Robin, and that still kind of hurts, but he pretends it doesn’t, because, really, why is he the one hurting, and finds himself happy to hear that she’s okay. He’s seen her sparsely since that time in Family Video, but from the way Steve talks about her, it seems like she’s got more life in her eyes.

There is one topic, though, that Steve is always willing to talk about, and it’s a surprise to no one: the kids.

Eddie thinks it’s a little cute. The way that he gushed over them like a proud mother, or the way he drives them everywhere, cooks them food. When Eddie had asked why he did it, why he cared is much for this little misfit group, Harrington had paused. “I’m like a halfway house.” He sucks a breath in, and Eddie follows the movement as he taps ash from the cigarette to the ground. “I’m just making sure that they’ve got all the support they can get before they move on.” 

I get it. Eddie wants to say. I don’t want to be left behind, either.

-- -- --

another opening for a new chapter!! "THE SECRET"

[lillaxtrigger]

Beaming down from the desolate shadows of an empty dark room, a single light spots down upon the deeply coveted stone of psychic potential; its cracked glass casing glistening against the descending glow. “The psychic stone. An artifact capable of unlocking the true potential of one’s own mind, bestowing those blessed in its glow an incredible power the likes of which are capable of transforming our very world.” Stepping out from among the dark, the violet psychic, plastered in gauze and a couple of casts, swipes the precious babble off the table and admires the little rock encased within, celebrating of how: “And its back in our clutches. Back from the bowels of the mob’s stomach. I mean, its kinda worse for wear. But hell, nothing but a little spit shine and glue can’t fix. What matters is that its in our little corner of town.”

In the blink of an eye is the surrounding void cast away as several more light fixtures overhead illuminate; Wedsle covering his eyes from the invasive glow as he’s revealed to be standing in one of their hideouts offices. Gazing to the other side of the brightly lit space, the purple psychic discovers Frida standing next to the light switch, retracting her finger away from the flip switch to ask: “All great wins. Hooray for us. Now what?” “Ain’t it obvious. We use the stone to power up and overthrow the bosses.” And how you suppose we make that play out?” “Well…um…” “You even have a plan?” “Shut the fuck up! I’m work shopping one.” exclaims Wedsle.

“Do you even know how we’re supposed to power up with that pebble? Hell, do you even know how you did it?” further questions Frida. “Uh…a bolt came out from the crack and shocking me in the head. Next thing I knew, I had one of the worst migraines in my life. Worse than any hangover I felt after a wild night at a swingers party.” “Gross.” “Any who, I couldn’t tell ya what got it this little mcguffin to spark. Could’ve been anything for all I know. Either way, just being out of the mob’s hands is an advantage enough. Better off not having anymore of those bastards being boosted.” Its then that the door leading out from the small office space suddenly bursts open, Thursotte leaping out from the illuminated hall on the other side with exasperation painted across his face. “Guys, you two ain’t gonna believe what I just found out; you’re gonna wanna come and see this.” he urges.

Gathering beside the chaos triggering psychic, Frida, Weds, and Tuesco watch as Thurs sits staring at the monitor of a computer; the screen displaying a myriad of locked files and documents upon looking through. “This is about as much data as the thumb drive I plugged into the laboratory’s server got. Most of it is encrypted, but I did manage to scope out some files that weren’t.” he elaborates. “You managed to keep that? Thought the doc would’ve swiped it back the moment you got caught.” the purple psychic wonders. “I figured the same thing, which is why I put it somewhere him or his drones wouldn’t have thought to look.” “Where would you even keep it?” Tuesco can’t help but wonder. “Let’s just say that when you spend a couple of months in prison, you tend to pick up some tricks you wanna use when sneaking stuff around; preferably if its isn’t something bigger than a couple inches in diameter.” “What does that uh even…” “He’s talking about using his prison wallet.” answers Wedsle. “Ew.”

“What’s a prison wallet?” they all suddenly hear an adolescent voice ask, the trio glancing back to find the Sunny standing right behind them. To the young sound controlling kid’s innocent wonder, a devious smile stretches across the violet psychic cheeks; proclaiming that: “I’m gonna tell him.” “You better not.” Tues threatens. “What are you all even talking about?” “We are about to review what was on copied on the thumb drive.” Thurs gets them all back on track with. “Ooh, can I see.” the boy pleads. “Thurs?” the air crystallizing psychic wonders, looking to the young man. “Meh, all the files we can browse through right now are nothing but documents. Nothing graphic or anything.” “Aw, boring.”

“Well, you might find it all a little less boring when I pull up the visitation records the doc’s been keeping.” mentions Thurs, turning right back to the computer monitor. Displayed on the screen be a full spreadsheet documenting showing a list of months followed by a slew of numbers, each of them categorized from intrusions, meetings, and abductions. Scrolling down near the bottom of the list, the jinx triggering psychic points to a 5 put underneath intrusions. “See this? The server jotted the five of us down not long after we broke into the lab. Assuming no one else didn’t stumble in there by accident, then this list should be accurate.” “There a point to showing us this?” wonders Wedsle. “Look just a month back. Under meetings.” Thursotte hovers the mouse over the very spot he brings attention to, the square standing between last month and how many visited. “4? Guess we weren’t the only one’s making a clinical visit.” Frida figures. “Question is who would even willingly go down to that metal factory of nightmares?”

“Are you for fucking real?” Wedsle then butts in with. “Come again?” “All this time, we thought December was nothing but some shitty urban barrel fire tale told to make lackeys piss themselves. The only people who knew he was real without a doubt were the same one’s he worked under. Who else could it be?” “The bosses!? If they went down there while they still had the stone…Oh god.” shutters Thurs. “But who were their plus one’s? Doubt they’d just lead anyone down there.” questions Frida. “I got a couple of ideas, but can’t be too sure. There anything else you dug up about this, Thurs?” “Nothing that’s unencrypted. Without some way to break the locked files, this is about as much as we can view.” “Dammit! It ain’t like any of us are that tech savvy either. If we can’t access the data. We can’t tell what their next moves’ll be. We’d just be taking pot shots in the dark.” Tuesco summarizes

“None of us can crack this code, but I know somebody who could.” assures Wedsle. “What the- when did you even…If you knew someone like that, why didn’t you say anything before?” questions Thursotte. “Because their anonymity was a priority, had to be with all the info they’ve been shoveling through; scooping up bits of handy intel in between the piles of cow shit. Plus, that they’re not exactly the action type; they’re more of an informant than a fighter.” “Informatio- Hang on. Was this the masked guy you had us meet with in that art museum?” Thurs points out. “The same. While we were all gallivanting through the city like a bunch of drunk collage dropouts, they we’re behind the scenes practically navigating our cobbled together vessel of criminal antics. How you think we figured where our little living megaphone was camping out?” confirms Weds, scuffling the sound controlling kid’s hair. “Of course, with how dangerous things are gonna get out there. I say its time we bring the bitch of a sniffer dog in.”

“So, how are we gonna meet up with them?” wonders Frida. “We aren’t. But one of us will.” “The heck does that mean?” follows Thursotte. “With how dangerous gathering info about the mob was, their identity and whereabouts were top shit. They find out where or who they were, the syndicate wouldn’t waste anytime putting them down and shutting them up. Which is why I had them take so many measures, and why I plan on sending someone to meet them with; somebody they’ll know for sure is with us.” “And, who do you have in mind?” the dimensional psychic asks, a little smirk forming across the side of Wedsle face.

Reverberating out from one of the safe house’s bedrooms be the grungy, repetitive guitar strums of a slow song coming from Satette’s phone; the lively psychic herself left simply laying in her bed to vaguely stare into the darkness that encompass her quarters. Mellow guitar strums and blinking shadows are all that she can bring herself to process among drowning in a swirling froth of ennui, rubbing the properly patched up wound where her arm used to be. As she lies buried deep among the mind numbing gloom, a regrettable sigh can’t help but escape from her; a sign of how she wonders why she continues, despite how much she lost.

Quite frankly demolishing this depressing respite, the door leading out of the bedroom suddenly busts down against the encompassing might of the purple psychic’s ass kicking foot; the unexpected break in causing Sat to fumble right off the side of her bed. Letting himself in, Wedsle starts to constantly flip the light switch on and off as he loudly blares out: “Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey, bitches. Time to make like a slick backed pimps cash cow, climb out from the cesspit of pity parties and get yer ass back out in the streets!” “Agh, Weds!? You couldn’t have at least knocked?” “The other’s tried knocking for your unresponsive short term depressive labia for the past few days without so much as a peep. Figure I’d skip the formality and skip straight to dragging you outta this nest of pathetic sadness.” “No, thanks. I’m not in the mood.” grumbles Satette, crawling back onto her bed.

A small sigh seeps out from his mouth as Wedsle approaches the bed to sit on the side, resting his palm atop the young woman’s shoulder and consoling how: “Look, I can see what you’re going through, taking the L and losing your arm. Feels like the whole world around you is caving in while your left to slowly drown in this bubbling black tar of defeatism. I’ve felt the pools gradual sticky pull more than once, I won’t lie; but there is always a way to swim out from the sadness and wash off the tarry splotches of lingering despair. You wanna know how?” “Hm?” “Its by getting off your ass and getting out there like a freshly motivated prostitute still humoring future hopes and dreams. Switch that daily dose of depresso for a cool cup columbine coffee, preferably with a dash of sugar and creamer. Just not the kind in the back though, time’s turn that sweet nectar into chunky custard.” “Hm.” “Besides, even if you don’t wanna, I can just drag you out by the only arm you got left.” “You wouldn’t.” she finally turns over to him to respond with. “Oh Sat, you’ve seen me do way worse.” This tad bit of persuasion is enough to motivate the lively psychic into climbing out from her bed and stand once more; stretching her arm and legs as she requests: “Just gimme 10 minutes, kay?” “Atta girl. Get back out there and kick your depressive episode right in the pussy.” motivates Wedsle, making his way out the bedroom door.

Shutting Satette’s bedroom door behind him, the purple psychic glances over to find Frida waiting beside the door; the gun wielding woman worrying “Weds, you sure the girl’s ready to get back out there?” “The informant specifically requested to meet up with her, she has to go.” “Tell that to her crippling depression.” “Trust me, Frids. When she meets up with out special guest, that frown is gonna turn upside down in the blink of an eye, and maybe then some.” The dimensional psychic can’t help but let a concerning groan slip over Wedsle’s assurance; Weds himself noticing the little signs of anxiety as she turns over Sat’s bedroom door. “Damn, Frida. You seem a little more uncharacteristically anxious than usual. I typically see you saving that sort of helicopter parent shit for Thurs, and even then, it ain’t anything like this. What’s up?” “What the fu- Nothing. Okay. Fuck off.”

“Oh okay, now I’m starting to get it.” “The hell are you talking about.” “Its practically written all over your face. You’re upset over Sat losing her arm on your watch, aren’t ya?” Though she didn’t wish to display it, her faux indifference was easy to see straight past; the way her eyes trail over to the door. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up too hard about it. Ya destroyed the lab, got his files, killed the doc, and got everyone out of there alive. Considering how much you had on your plate, you handled all that pretty damn smoothly.” “Not as smoothly as I hoped. Everyone got caught cause of my piss poor planning and had to be bailed out by a fucking preteen. If Sunny listened to me and didn’t drop in when he did, none of us would’ve made it out. Told you I wasn’t leader material, and what that girl in there lost proves it.” “Frids, come on, you-”

Their conversation is suddenly cut short as the door beside them opens up; stepping out from the dark bedroom being the lively psychic, dressed and ready to go. Not a word is shared between the trio as Satette simply walks right past them; the despondent fog blanketing her pupils making it abundantly clear how utterly defeated she feels. Her dejected display of gloom and doom further lowers Frida’s spirits; the dimensional psychic seeing first hand how utterly affected by the loss of her friend’s arm was. “Sat, hold up…” Wedsle attempts to stop her with. Despite in earshot of the purple psychic, his call goes unabated as Sat simply meanders around the corner. Hoping to salvage what he could out of this depressing circumstance, Weds turns back around to try and heave Frida out from her own funk; yet is left disappointed as he discovers the wall merging psychic having absconded as well. “Fuckin, jeez. Thought one moody woman was enough on my hands, now I got two to deal with.”

Contrasting against the harsh depths of the urban jungle, the towering concrete walls and constant car horn honking are replaced with wide open sky, natural green tree’s, and bird chirps that make up the peaceful vibe of one of the big apple’s suburban Burroughs. The rough apartments of brick and stone cast aside in place of small personal homes; the tree’s and foliage, once suffocating among the pavement, spread more thoroughly among the stretches of house yards lining the suburbs. Hell, there were even some small gardens being cultivated in some of the backyards that could be peeked into.

Strolling along the sidewalk of this stretch of inner city suburban life, Satette peers across the street with the same gloomy gaze she had when leaving the safehouse; the drastic change in her surroundings doing little to quell the crumminess looming over her. But not everything was as well as this little slice of suburban life would lead you to, for she soon comes upon a young woman walking right by her; the lady’s tired and pale visage showing her to not be doing so hot. It felt as if this sickly woman was barely aware of her surroundings as she stumbles around in a dizzying haze, left dressed as if she had just gotten out of bed with nothing but a shirt and some sweatpants on. Neither of them so much as say a word to one another as they pass by; but something does end up escaping from the woman’s mouth as she suddenly lets out a giant sneeze just a few feet away from the lively psychic, leaving Satette to back away as she lets the lady pass by.

This cautious step back ends up distracting her to not pay attention to a tree planted along the sidewalk, the lively psychic unwittingly gets her foot caught along an exposed root and starts to fumble. Without so much as a thought does she try to save herself by reaching over to the tree standing to her right, yet realizes all too late the lack of her right arm; leaving her to just fall right onto the hard concrete sidewalk. The obvious pain from the fumble aside, this little screw up is what makes it dawn on her how seldom used to her missing limb she truly was; her own body not even adjusted to the change as she still felt as if her arm was still there. God dammit…

Appearing out in the aftermath of her fumble, Satette peers over to witness a palm being offered to her; the lively psychic taking the helping hand to let it help her pull her back up and discover the hand belonging to a middle aged man, concerned over her fall. “You feeling alright there, missy?” “Yeah, just a few scrapes. Nothing serious.” she assures. “You sure that all? Somethin’s telling me that little tumble wasn’t only thing getting you down.” the man then questions. “Sorry, but I’m a little too busy right now to trauma dump on some random stranger I bumped into.” “You at least got time to talk about your recent arm accident.” the middle aged man suddenly points out, an observation of which makes Sat stop dead in her tracks. “How do you know it was recent?” she sternly asks him. “Its practically painted all over your pretty little face. The bags of eyes, the unkempt ragged hair, the utter despondency. Seems like your suffering from a case of the blue’s right there. You wanna take a break and talk about it.” “The hell does someone like you know what I’m going through?” Satette defensively questions. “I know more than you might think.” claims the man, waltzing over to the side of the tree.

Leaning himself against the small tree’s bark, the kind stranger reaches down to one of his legs and clutches to its ankle; Satette left astonished as she watches the guy pull the lower half of his own leg right off. Presenting this does he reveal the bottom of his leg to be nothing but plastic; a prosthetic serving to replace a part of the foot having long since been lost. “Jesus! A fake leg?” “Yep. Got caught in an accident around my early 30’s that left my leg a balled up scrunchy; had to be cut off so this bad boy could take its place.” “Jeez. I didn’t know. Now I just feel like a huge bitch.” she reluctantly admits. “Don’t be. I felt around the same way as you when it got cut off. Depressed, frustrated, felt like my whole world was falling apart. Shut out everyone that tried to help. Course that was years and years ago. And you wanna know the difference between then and now?” “What?” “Some friends, some joy and most importantly, time. It took me time. Admittedly, more of it then I thought, but still.” After taking a bit of a moment to pop his prosthetic leg back on, the middle aged man pushes himself of the side of the tree and continues with: “Time might not heal all wounds, but it heals more of them than you might think. Maybe let that ruminate with ya for a bit.” The encounter with the cheery middle aged man coming to a close, Sat simply watches the guy stroll back into his daily commute; putting her hand in her dress pocket as his words stick to her.

In the depths of her own pocket does she feel something tucked within and starts to pull it out, Satette taking out a folded slip of paper to soon begins to unravels its several crevices; the process somewhat cumbersome to manage with only a single hand. When she does eventually unfold the small slip of notebook paper, Sat flaps the piece around a bit to straighten it out to make out the words written; a message inscribed to the lively psychic tell her of the objective at hand. “Sat, in case you’ve been too busy wallowing in the bottomless self pity and depression oozing out from the crevices of your own brain and forgot why the hell I sent you out wandering around the middle of an inner city suburb, I wrote down what’s gotta be done for ya. You can thank me later. For now, due to the sensitive nature of our informant’s safety and anonymity, the best course of action for them to know without a doubt who they meet with is to cause a little bit of a commotion down here in this little slice of white picket fence disgrace of modern neighborhood street design; it is only then our informant shall reveal themselves to you. My advice is to take a page out of Thursotte’s strategy guide and cause an accident to happen the only way you know how. P.S: No matter how shitty it all may feel, never forget what we’re fighting for.” Fighting for? What the hell are we fighting for anymore?

Breaking her out from this somber moment is she baited from the small note when the voice of a child calls for her attention; Satette peering up from the note to discover an upset young boy urgently compelling for her with: “Hey, miss; you got a sec!?” “Hey, kid, chill. What’s with all the stress?” she returns with. “My big sister got out of the house when I was supposed to be watching her. There’s no way she can be out here being as sick as she is?” “Jeez, sounds urgent. What’s she look like?” “You’d know it when you see it, She-she-she looked pretty pale, tired, hair’s a mess, only got a shirt and sweatpants on. Uh…” “Oh, I just ran into someone like that. Looked pretty out of it while they were stumbling around the corner back there.” “Thank you so much!” the boy appreciates, bolting right beside the lively psychic and towards the sidewalk corner behind her. “Hol up, you…need a…hand?” Satette tries to offer, her voice stumbling the further the boy runs. The kid far too focused on catching up with his sickly sister, fails to hear her request as he hurries right around the corner; Satette letting out a disappointed sigh upon her aid being spurred. Yeah, guess somebody with just one arm wouldn’t have much hands to give. I mean, what’s a disarmed bitch with nothing meaningful left in her life like me good for anyway.

The lively psychic’s is suddenly drawn to a horde of trucks that roll past her; each of them hauling hefty construction vehicles and equipment on their beds. Curiosity doesn’t spark what all this equipment was for, that is until after the trucks turn the corner of a four way intersection, where upon a small crowd slowly marches from the other side of the road. It was obvious that this small crowd wasn’t made of some gathering onlookers; not just their upset demeanor and the way they step in stride after the trucks, but the signs most of them raise up holding bold slogans and phrases of disagreement and denial. This was no mere batch of watchers, no; this was a full blown organized protest. Its this development right here that peeks her interest and gets her to follow after to see what this might entail, following after the disgruntled mob

In the midst of following both the mob and in turn the trucks they pursue, Satette can’t help but notice the natural flourishing green’s of the neighborhood being uprooted and torn asunder by some of the heavy duty equipment rampaging through chunks of the tree lines and fields; forcing the small wildlife that called such places home to flee from the wrath of these machines. It wasn’t just the animals that were left to endure this invasion, no. For the surrounding plants, trees, shrubs, even lines of grass that shared these rare spots of soil were losing their natural vibrancy; their color drained away as they were left to wither as nothing but pale, dry, husks. This gradual decay looming over the neighborhood like an infection, it was obvious of why this gathering of good samaritans banded together in the fact of this tragedy in the making; but what against remained to be answered. What manner of rapidly escalating progress was worth carving such a wound upon this quaint little neighborhood?

The lively psychic’s brief venture following the protesters comes to a sudden end as she accidentally bumps right into one of them, keeping herself from falling over again as she finds the crowd having stopped their march. Satette backs away to gauge a view past the mob and see for herself what they had been rallying against. From where she stands does Sat discover the protest taking place right in front of a number of buildings and large pipes being constructed by dozens of workers, carefully planning and building across a leveled field sitting right along the edge of the inner city suburb. Beside the construction site stood a billboard declaring that this project was: “The future site of the Kelito chemical plant. Redefining energy production since 1978.” Kelito, like the big energy corporation? They can’t be serious. These greedy fucks are trying to muscle their way in through small suburbs now? You think a company that big’d have other, better places to build another site. Is the city that desperate for energy that they can let these jackass’s leisurely bulldoze around people’s homes?

Venturing her gaze away from the ongoing protest is her attention then drawn over a small concession stand set up next to a truck parked along the side, the stand advertising the sale of locally grown produce harvested from this very neighborhood. Though such a small inconsequential background detail typically doesn’t bait her attention, her growling stomach beckons otherwise and compels her to approach. Probably should’ve ate something before I left. Do I even have any money?

Upon approaching the quaint little stand as a couple of the protester depart with some fresh snacks to chow down on, the old lady serving the produce looks to the lively psychic with a warm and welcoming grin as she greets with: “Hey there, sweetie. Care for a little snack in these trying times.” “Um, sorry. I don’t got any cash on me.” “Nonsense. All of it’s on the house. You youngins will need the energy keeping up the good fight.” she claims, offering Sat an apple. “Oh, thanks.” Nabbing the piece of fruit from the old woman’s grasp, the lively psychic waste’s not another moment to chomp down through its skin and take a chunk right off; the apple juicy sweet nectar flooding her mouth with its tasty splendor with every bite. “Ooh, damn. This real good. What’s in it?” “Nothing special, I just grew it right in the comfort and care of my own backyard garden. Been growing fruits and vegetables since I was a little girl. There’s a hint of love in every bite. But I’m not sure how much longer I can go on saying that, not with this new fangled chemical plant muscling its way in and tearing up the neighborhood.” she laments.

“About that. Why of all places does a big corp like Kelito so eager to build along the side of a little neighborhood.?” Satette questions. “I’m not completely in the know about it all; but from what I heard, the city’s power generators are incredibly out of date and aren’t providing enough energy. So the city offices enlisted Kelito to help update the structure with their own facilities, and they think the big field along the edge of our neighborhood is the perfect place to set up shop.” “That can’t be legal; building something like that so close to a suburb.” argues Satette. “Unfortunately, what’s legal and what’s right doesn’t matter much anymore nowadays. Whatever loophole they found, they’re exploiting to no end and back with a seemingly unending well of money. As long as the cash doesn’t stop flowing, there’s not much the authorities are willing to do to step up for people like us.” “Big energy’s stepping on the common folks and the government’s just turning a blind eye. No wonder everyone’s so pissed.”

“Yes sir, and its just getting worse by the day. I don’t know what else those corporate creeps are doing around here; but it hasn’t just been effecting trees and plants. Some people living around here even have been getting very ill since they started building here; vomiting, diarrhea, pale skin. These blocks have been through their fair share of flue season’s, but it was never anything this severe.” People here getting sick? Its upon the old woman’s recounting that Sat then remembers the pale sickly woman she had encountered when first coming to this slice of suburban life; her sickly demeanor now making a lot more sense. Does she live around here?

“Take a little look over there for me.” the old woman then tells her, pointing towards the corner of the block. “See that house? The one boarded all up?” Directing her attention over to one of the quaint little homes lining the corner of the block in question, Sat finds the house plastered with nailed on planks and boards all over the windows and door; the big plank of wood attached to the front compelling people to not break in and enter. Its yard drained of color, its tree’s withered and dead, and its shrubs baron and dry. “That run down one?” Sat wonders. “That’s where Mr. Yukon used to live. He used to be the life of the party every time the neighborhood had a shindig for New years, 4th of July, Halloween almost every holiday all year around. If there was a party, he’d be there to turn it into a night to remember. But ever since the plant started to be built nearby, the less we saw of him. Found out he caught one hell of a bug one day and came out less and less, figure he didn’t want anybody catching what he had. But it soon got bad enough for him to be carted off to the hospital; and after that, his home had to be boarded up. Nobody’s seen him since.”

“Oh my god.” “And its not just him, several more people had to move due to this strange bug going around. If Kelito doesn’t stop tearing up our little corner of suburba to build this new energy plant, the whole neighborhood will be forced to move. A lot of people around here worked to get this quaint little life away from the terror of the inner city, and I can’t afford to pack up and leave.” “And, that’s why you’re out here? Sharing the produce you picked for the people trying to fight back?” the lively psychic summarizes. “Precisely. I might not have as much pep in my step as I used to, but it warms my aging heart to see the people of today fighting for what they hold dear.” For what they value, huh? A look to the bitten down apple she holds in her hand, Satette discovers that she had chomped down close to the core of the humble little fruit; the seeds at the center nestled in the crevices of the middle. From the core of the apple, the lively psychic than turns her attention over to one of the excavators brought along one of trucks driven here; the hefty metal machine thrusting its claw near the roots of a towering tree. “Hey lady. How much produce are you packing?” she asks with a confidently sly grin.

Plunging its claws once more into the tree’s soil, the powerful excavator swipes through the dirt to expose its vunerable roots; the hardened wooden veins sticking out from the bottom of the oak. The worker inside pulls at the lever controls to command the digger’s scoop to slowly lower down towards the tree’s roots; its steel claws inching closer to the base. Yet the hefty machines neck would suddenly cease lowering as a harsh grinding could be heard screeching out from within the excavator itself; the levers that the worker had been manning refusing to budge. “The hell?” Curious of what the cause of the machine’s malfunction could be stemming from, the construction worker hops out from the excavators booth and ventures over to the back of the vehicle; the source of the trouble spotted when finding strands of green slithering out from the back panel. Upon popping open the hood, the worker lets out a confused grunt before calling out: “Uh…boss. Might wanna come and see this.”

Entangled through the gears and pistons of the machines inner workings run several stretches of healthy green vines, with their length baring plump grapes spanning all through the inside of the excavator; some of these fruit having burst to spew their juices right on some of the crucial parts. Staring down to this odd practice of sabotage be a man in a slick back haircut donning a short sleeved yellow business tee plastered in black highlights; his piercing glare down upon the mess making it clear that he was less than pleased. “What the fuck am I looking?” he asks aloud. “I…I don’t know, boss. One of the protesters must’ve ran some vines they pulled from their backyard through the inside while nobody was working.” one of the gathered workers guesses. “Should we postpone the excavation to call for another digger?” another question. “You’re joking with me, right? With how long it took to deliver this one? Our schedule’s tight enough as it is, and we can’t afford to waste another day over one of those chanting dipshits sad excuses for sabotage. Weed and clean it all out and get the excavators back up and running; I want this ground leveled by tomorrow. Lets move people, daylight’s burning.” the construction boss orders with a clap. Though disgruntled over their superiors hasty demands, the crew starts getting to work in fixing up the broken down excavator; a time consuming effort of which the lively psychic watches as she snacks on a couple of grapes.

Suspended high above the ground via the hook of a crane be a bundle of steel frames, being delivered on a plank of wood about three floors or so towards the top of the constructing building; some of the workers standing up that high signaling the crane driver to maneuver the hard steel. But trouble begins to brew as the neck of the crane unexpectedly stops just short of some feet near the building, as the sudden stop causing the wooden plank holding the frame to tremble with enough of a jerk to send the steel pieces sliding right off and plummeting towards the ground below; those workers nearby fleeting as the frame crashes down. “Jesus!” one of them exclaims.

Among the brief moment of terror and fright does the man in the yellow and black business shirt cut his way through the gathered workers in attempting to assess the situation, demand: “Move, move! What happened!?” Sharing in the site the rest of his crew partake in, a sharp gasp escapes from his mouth when discovering the damages, approaching the site to take a closer look as he exclaims: “Oh my god!” To his horror, the boss nears the mess to discover the steel frame having been bent from the drop; its straight lines harshly curved down. “The damn steel frames all busted up! What the hell we’re you numbskulls doing!?” “It ain’t our fault, boss. The crane just froze up out of nowhere. But don’t worry, nobody got hurt.” “That’s not the problem. Do you all know how long it took to special order this frame? Now I gotta call for another one and that could take half a week. Which of you was driving the crane?” he demands. “I don’t think the driver was the problem, boss.” one of the workers claim, his eyes glued to the hefty piece of equipment. “The hell does that mean?” “Just look.”

Returning his sites back to the construction vehicle in question, the construction manager’s eyes widen upon discovering a long stalk of green slithered tightly around the neck of the crane; the piece of foliage stretching out from machines base. Though the strangest detail to stand out being the fact that from the lengthy stalk can plump red tomatoes bee seen having sprouted, one of them falling off the vine to land right in the boss’s grasp. Closely inspecting the piece of fruit, he finds it to be no different from any other ripe tomato, with its bright red skin reflecting the sunlight. A strained growl escape from him as the manager spikes the perfectly good piece of fruit down onto the ground, splattering against the hardened dirt; a clear display of frustration he brushes aside as he orders his crew to: “Weed it all out from the crane to get it back up and running. We ain’t gonna let whatever shit someone’s pulling here slow us down.”

Nestled atop a tiny mound of soil stood a patch of planted daffodils; what petals remained clinging on to the top of the stem as they attempt to hold onto their vibrant colors. Yet is their noble stand against all odds is threatened as a monolithic machine treads its way, with its wide head effortlessly tearing through the grassy plains; the daffodils petals quivering as the bulldozer draws near. The moment that the vastly huge vehicle is about to violently shovel through the lonely patch of flowers, a terrible metallic screech echoes from underneath the bulldozer as it suddenly comes to an unexpected halt; the worker driving the machine hitting her face against the glass window upon being flung from her seat. “Augh! What the he-what just happened!?” she harshly questions, climbing down from the driver seat to inspect. Taking a gander of what could make the massive machine she had been driving stop so suddenly, her irritation swiftly turns to disbelief upon beholding the root cause of the problem; her utter surprise urging her to call for: “Boss, there’s something else!”

Entangled across the treads of the hefty bulldozer be hard strands of wood running across the gears and wheels of the machines steel bed; the hard roots enveloping the frame to to prevent the treads from moving another inch. “And, this what you found when it stopped on you, right?” the man in the yellow and black business shirt recounts, staring down to the damages. “Yeah, I didn’t see any sort of leftover roots while I was driving. It’s like they just turned up or something, its freaky.” “Come on, that’s crazy. Like roots can just pop out from the ground? Quit making stuff up.” another worker mocks. “Nova, I’m being serious. These last couple attempts of sabotage aren’t like anything we’ve seen before. I doubt those all those protester could do something this bizarre. None of this is natural.” the worker beckons to the boss. “Hmm…You might be onto something there.” Nova agrees. “What say the rest of you take your break while I do some maintenance on this hunk of junk right here?” “You sure, boss?” “Course, think everyone needs a breather after the back to back incidents. Just take 30 while I take care of some stuff.”

Left with little to complain over, the crew of construction workers split for their break and leave their superior alone with the entangled bulldozer; Nova himself waiting until each of them were out of sight before he turns to the construction vehicle. But one pair of eyes he doesn’t expect to watch him be those of the lively psychic herself; Satette laying low around the corner of a nearby house as she intently watches the construction boss approach the side of the dozer. Kneeling down to the vehicles treads, Nova reaches for the mess of the roots entangling its wheels and tightly clutches to one of the wooden strands; Sat’s suspension sky rocketing when she witnesses a bright green power seeping out from the construction worker manager. No way. Coursing out from the boss, the potent green power surges directly into the hard oak roots plaguing the hefty piece of construction equipment; the lengths of wood beginning to shrivel up and wither underneath the influence of this gnarly aura. He’s a psychic!?

The once healthy and thick pieces of root, within moments, are left as nothing but crumbled and dry sticks; twigs that the manager tugs out from the inside of the machine with extreme ease. A satisfied chuckle leaves the boss as he jerks out the last piece of shriveled wood; his special kind of supernatural touch having reduced all of the invasive roots clogging up the bulldozer to nothing but a pile of dead sticks. What the hell did he do to them!? The last of the roots pulled right out, Nova climbs up to the seat of the bulldozer and turns the keys to fire up the engine, stepping on the gas to see the construction vehicle moving like normal once more; the patch of daffodils crushed under the machine’s terrible weight as it flattens the land they stood to level. Confirming the heavy bulldozer to be back up and running, the construction manager turns off the machine before hopping out, waltzing away with satisfied confidence.

Left curious of what the boss could’ve possibly done to the mess of roots she had planted, Satette prowls out from side of the home to step out from the shadows; slowly nearing the bundle of withered sticks Nova had just finished uprooting. The lively psychic reaches her hand over to the pile of dried up twigs in an attempt to inspect closer, but is forced to reel her fingers back upon feeling an overwhelming heat radiate from their withered bark! Ah! God, that stings! What did that slicked back dickhead even do? Yet despite the mess of withered twigs being incredibly smoldering to the touch, there crackled exterior holds not even a single ember among their dried out wood; just left as shriveled and sapped of color as the rest of the flora around this part of the neighborhood. Can’t believe that a psychic was behind all this. The construction crew hasn’t even reach far out from hear, and yet the surrounding tree’s and plants are all dried up; there’s no way they could make the neighborhood turn gray when they’re just building over stuff. But what’s a psychic doing all the way back out here? Is he with the mob too? Whatever the case, its clear that he’s the one behind the decay of this slice of suburba; how is yet another question to be answered. A construction crew boss like him has to have a trailer or something parked around here to camp in during the day; surely the dude has to have some sort of documents or connections stowed away in it.

Secretly stalking the construction boss across the site, Satette sees the slicked back dipstick of a manager waltz his way up to a humble mobile trailer parked right along the edge of the yard; just as the lively psychic had predicted. What she failed to predict however were the dozen or so construction workers leisurely sitting between her and said trailer; each of them enjoying their well earned break chowing down on their packed lunches. Okay, no problem. Ain’t nothing you hadn’t tackled. Might be a little rusty, and a tad handicapped. Never stopped me before; even when people begged me not to.

Sticking to the shadows sprawling along the side of the site, Satette slithers her way around the numerous workers leisurely enjoying every second of their downtime; not one of them so much as notices her weaving across their eyes. For the most part, this demonstration of stealth was pretty simple and straight forward; hiding behind hefty equipment, avoiding prying eyes, slithering through when nobody was looking. Nothing she hadn’t done before. Of course, that swiftly changes when coming to the last stretch between her and the manager’s trailer; with next to nothing for her to conceal herself from the open. Practically anyone on the site could see her approach the trailer along the small piece of open space; it almost seemed impossible to come near it without a pair of eyes casually glancing her way.

But Sat’s own eyes then discover a small window of opportunity when spotting a power line spanning from one of the electrical poles, all the way right to the side of the boss’s trailer; veiled in some plastic covering standing in between the line and the eyes of the workers. Well, that’s one way close the gap stealthily enough. Course, actually getting up there and shimmying through is another story. Laying so much as a finger on those lines could fry me right up into a juicy beef patty…maybe a slim beef patty. There’s gotta be some way to get across without turning my ass into crispy fried bacon. It’s when pondering of a way across the lines that she lays eyes upon the remains of a small tree; its body withered and soiled away into nothing but a dry husk, no doubt plagued by whatever the construction boss had inflicted. Such a lifeless husk of wood would normally be of little use to anyone in her case, yet to the lively psychic is only a matter of how to use it.

Even with her years of dexterity practice, Satette shows to have some trouble scaling the electrical pole, even when holding onto and stepping on the stakes planted on its side; the lack of her other arm making the climb quiet cumbersome. And its in the middle of her ascent when reaching for the iron stake above that her grasp unexpectedly slips; Sat instinctively attempting to reach out with her none existent arm in trying to stop her fumble, yet to no avail. A cruelly timed reminder over her lack of her other limb. Her legs closest to the electrical pole, Satette manages to bend them around the stakes underneath to save her hide, slamming her back against the pole’s hard wood rather than fumbling back to the ground; the lively psychic holds her tongue in trying to not grunt or shout from the hitting her back. Fucking phantom limb syndrome.

Its after recovering from that near debacle that Satette makes it to the top of the electrical pole, hearing the audible hum of power that surges through the thick black wires just a few feet away; that thick black wire spanning across the edge of the site and right over the boss’s office trailer. Reaching to her back, the lively psychic pulls out a piece of dried out wood she took from that withered tree; the bark across the limb left with very little vibrant color to speak off. Yet even in its decaying state can Sat feel some kick left in this small little stick and courses her power through the twig; the natural green aura reconstructing the piece of wood into a curved hook. Placing both of her feet down onto the same iron stake, the lively psychic makes a brave leap up and hoists her wooden hook up to its electrical wires, successfully dangling onto the power lines without invoking its shocking wrath. Got it. Now just to shimmy across to the trailer with my other… Its her sudden judgment that she glances to where her arm used to be, followed by looking to her other arm as the realization begins to sink in for her. The lack of another limb making it impossible for her to simply inch across the power line. Oh..well dammit. Seems I didn’t think this all the way through.

Things end up getting worse as she gazes up back to find the electrical line starting to unravel, no doubt from all the excess weight it was never meant to carry. Oh shit. Acting quickly, Satette morphs her wooden hook to envelope around and clutch at the unraveling power line, the transformed branch firmly grasping the wiring just before it snaps. Despite its withered appearance, the small wooden stick manages to keep its grip onto the power line as Sat falls; the lively psychic swinging across the side of the construction site while keeping her mouth shut. Even with this blunder however, she quickly closes in onto the construction boss’ trailer and lets go of her morphed wooden hook. Yet when attempting reach both hands out to land gracefully, the lack of her other limb ends up making her mess up the landing and winds up crash and tumbling to the back of the trailer. Ouch… The trailer window above her clicks before it suddenly slides open; the manager of the site sticking his head out for what could be causing such a commotion; Nova finding not a soul standing outside that could make such racket. Seeing nobody else right out his window, the construction boss ends up shrugging off the noise and closes his window back up, unaware of the lively psychic crawling underneath his trailer.

Pacing back and forth in the small trailer space, Nova steps over the crumbs and coffee stains littering the floor; a mess which the manager is inclined to simply ignore as he’s himself was scattered and worried while conversing with somebody on the phone. “I-I know…I know…I know…Look, I…There’ve been some setbacks, but I guarantee you, the project is coming along nicely and will be done on time. Yes, I know how important this is supposed to be to you guys. The protesters are enough of a pain in the ass; think they might be tampering with the equipment as of late.” Nova leans against the side of his desk as he lets the person on the other end of the call continue to speak, which was littered with piece of paper and used pens; some of them sliding off to the side as he responds with: “You know how we can’t just “take care of them all” like some common hit, not just out here in the public…Of course I haven’t just been laying down and taking it. I’m sure you of all people know how discrete you gotta be when uprooting the weeds that pop up every now and again.”

Pushing himself right off the side of his desk, the construction manager waltzes right over to the window and stick his finger in between the blinds, peeking outside for his sites to rest to one of the nearby houses left in disarray. “Manage to finally drive out this one guy that’s been a thorn in our side; the guy that rallied the people around here into protesting. Some old rando named Yukon or whatever; should’ve seen the look on their faces when he got hauled to the hospital.” Nova’s vision drifting over to the crowd of protesters, his eyes lock to the old lady providing freshly picked fruits and vegetables “I imagine a couple more of those cases’ll get the rest of those shout picket sign shits to scatter like cockroaches. Remind me again why you had me set up a site like this out of the blue?…Power shortage? First time’s that’s happened for us in a while, but what happened to what you were using before…Alright, alright, fine. Just say its a secret. No need to get so hostile on me, man. Just gimme about a month or two, March. I know the rest of the mafia needs it now more than ever. I swear I’ll get this plant up by this season. Alright?…Alright. Cool talking to you.” Hanging up the line, the construction boss stows his phone back into his pocket as he strolls on over to the door, opening up and stepping out as he tells his crew that: “Alright. Eatin times over! Back to the grind people! Chop, chop. Got a lot to catch up on if we wanna make the quota.”

Once the manager slams the trailer door behind him, that was the queue for a sliver of wood to begin sawing through the floor and carve out a sizable hole from underneath the trailer; the cut circle popping out as the lively psychic lifts her way in. Climbing inside the little office trailer, she begins to look around for whatever may tell her of the manager’s next move; no doubt the first place to look for something that crucial and fresh being the drawers of his desk. I definitely didn’t miss hear him. That slicked back douche had one of the scions on the other line. The mob higher ups must be desperate to get a source of power up and running if they’re risking to build in an open neighborhood. Now with December and his lab washed away in the briny blue, they’re scattering to get control back in the tech side of the city. Still doesn’t say a damn thing about who this guy is and what he did to make part of the place as drained and gray as a lifeless husk.

In among rummaging through one of the boss’s desk drawers that Satette ends up finding something intriguing among the usual documents, and office supplies; the lively psychic pulling out what appeared to be a strange radar with a metal wand attached to the top. On its face was an analog screen and a meter displaying numbers ranging from 10 to 500; the back depicted more clear information showing the name and model number of the device. Something called a Geiger counter. Weird name. Sort of looks like one of those tools hazmat people use in movies when trying to measure how toxic..someplace is…

Its from this stray thought that the nature of her foe’s power starts to become clear to her; left to think back of the sickly young woman that was wondering through the streets; the way the surrounding plants withered and decayed, how the old woman described how that one guy got sick and had to be taken to the hospital with his place boarded up, and how the wood felt hot to touch even without it being on fire. All of it. Every seemingly random incident lead to a single conclusion. Oh my god, the son of a bitch is radioactive! He’s been using radiation to kill all the plants and tree’s to make it easier to build over. He’s been poisoning the people living here to drive them all away and demolish their homes! That’s it, this slicked back rat bastard has to die!

The midnight moon rises high in the pitch black sky as the clock strikes the late hours of the night; the construction site left entirely baron and empty, with not a single worker, or protester for that matter, left in site. Though most of the site lay blanketed by shadow, one source of luminescence glows among the surrounding darkness as the manager’s trailer stays alight; Nova left stuck at his desk with a mound of paperwork to sort through. When a long yawn ends up escaping from his lungs, the construction boss reaches over for a cup of coffee left sitting at the corner of the desk and takes a little sip; the nuclear psychic withdrawing his lips from the rim of the mug upon noticing the drink having lost its refreshing warmth. Nova remedies this by clutching the sides of the cup with but one hand before surging his radioactive energy into the drink; lines of steam wafting up from the surface of the liquid in just a few short moments. Its from this that the boss takes another sip from his mug of coffee to feel the assuring warmth once more, letting out a satisfied moan as he guzzles the drink down. His little sip blows into a full on spit take when a loud metal thud suddenly echoes from outside; Nova left with strands of coffee drooling down his mouth as his eyes lurch to the window.

Stepping outside to see what might have caused such a loud racket, Nova closes the door behind him as he peers out into the dimly lit site; the manager finding not a soul in his immediate surroundings. His suspicion still lingers as he continues away from his parked trailer to venture deeper into the shadowy site, positive that the commotion he heard was no meager accident. “If its one of those picket sign pricks doing this, I swear to god.”

The cool night air flows in from the open roof overhead as Nova makes his way into the partially constructed plant building, looking through the shadows infested within. Raising but a single finger, the construction manager disperses the encompassing darkness with the light of his own nuclear energy; the shadows fleeting from the small radioactive green glow. His light reveals nothing worth of note among the scattered construction tools and standing scaffolding; his suspicion slowly deflating as he finds not a piece of evidence of tampering. That is until the construction manager uncovers a rather odd display, coming upon a ravel of oak wood having entangled itself in one of the forklifts; Nova letting out a frustrated sigh as he approaches one of its branches.

Clutching against the mess of wood, the construction manager begins to erode away its strength with doses of radiation like he had done with the bulldozer before; a task of which leaves the him unaware of a dark figure encroaching from the shadows with a stake in hand. The figure surreptitiously inches closer and closer as they raise the splintered stake, preparing to plunge its wood into the boss’s back. Finally lunging to the man from behind, the figure thrusts the stake towards the man’s back; but is utterly caught off guard as the tip of their weapon suddenly erodes away into a stump. The piece of harmless eroded wood prodding behind him, Nova swiftly turns back around with a handful of lethal power in the palm of his hand; the deadly green light reveals the attacker to be the lively psychic as she leaps away from the radioactive swipe. Satette fumbling onto the tiled floor, she beholds the nuclear construction manager look down on her with baggy, yet sharp eyes. “He he he he he, I figured that the kind of shit I had to unravel couldn’t be from any of those sign swinging shit stains; had to be the work of another psychic. Didn’t expect that psychic to be a wanted traitor, though. Man, things might be looking up for me real soon. The scions are flip when I send them them you’re charred body.”

The dastardly green glow in the man’s hands growing brighter, Satette quickly pulls herself up and dashes away just as Nova throws out the orb of radiation down at her; the lively psychic narrowly avoiding the nuclear blast. His intruder threatening to escape, the nuclear psychic gives chase after Satette as she darts throughout the floor of the site; the young woman hurdling over iron poles, around stacks of boxes, and leaping across patches of wet cement. Despite in pursuit of the woman wrecking his operation, the construction boss is careful to not disturb the pieces of the site he passes by, giving Sat a bit of distance to work with. The lively psychic spends the gap bolting over to a ladder to climb up to a set of scaffolding standing against a partially constructed wall; her lack of a second arm making the ascent somewhat slow and cumbersome. And seeing the site intruder having such difficulty rising up the ladder, Nova begins to conjure a concentration of nuclear power in the palm of his hand; a dose of radiation he casts after the lively psychic.

Using nothing but the command of her own psychic power, Sat has lines of wood root slither out from behind her dress to form a hard bark shell to coat her back; the thick oak shield tanking the radioactive blast for her. Despite feeling not one bit of nuclear power inflicted upon her, the lively psychic is still astonished when finding her makeshift shell left as nothing but sawdust from the blast alone; a strong warning to further cement how dangerous this man was as she frantically hurries up the ladder. Finally scaling to the top of the ladder, Satette hops onto the scaffolding suspended against the wall and darts across; all the while hearing the nuclear psychic tails after her

In fleeting from the construction manager pursing her, Satette finds another ladder waiting up ahead and starts to reaching out with the intent on scuttling right on up; soon retracting her grasp when recollecting how slow she was climbing up the first ladder. Rather than risk making herself an easy target struggling to climb up, the lively psychic instead zips right on by and darts straight towards the corner of the wall; a seemingly ineffectual bid in her escape as Nova again fires out a ray of toxic green at her. Yet when racing to the other end does Sat make a bounding leap towards the corner, planting her feet onto the wall and jumping right off to the length of scaffolding above her; narrowly evading the oncoming ray of radiation as it blasts against the corner.

From kicking off the corner of the wall and landing right onto the next set of scaffolding above, Sat continue to bolt across as the nuclear psychic below continues to give chase, all the while Nova pursues after. Its in the midst of hurrying across the wooden boards that Satette comes across a big iron wrench left littered in the middle of the way and casts a vine of ivy to wrap around the length of metal; tossing it right out and slinging it right back towards the construction boss like a Against the oncoming piece of steel flung straight at him, Nova catches the wrench right in the palm of his hand before clutching the line of greens of his lively intruder; the construction manager sending a deadly dose of radiation crawling across the vine and surging at the woman on the other end. Witnessing her string of healthy ivy withering away against the deadly green power, Sat is left with little choice but to severe the green vine with nothing but her own teeth, harshly gnawing on the ivy until it snaps in two. Having broken the irradiated tether just in the nick of time, Satette hurries down the other end of the scaffolding towards the ledge of the unfinished wall; the lively psychic left with little recourse against her nuclear nemesis chasing her but to risk it.

To the construction boss’s surprise, the lively psychic makes an all or nothing leap off the end of the scaffolding and right over the partially constructed wall; Satette peering down to find herself plummeting down towards nothing cold hard concrete. With what little sliver of living ivy and tree wood she had left to spare, the young woman combines them into a string of foliage she casts forth at an excavator left broken nearby; what weeds remained in its inner workings withered and dead. The other end of the natural rope wraps around the neck of the large vehicle and swings Satette right over the placed pieces of pavement, effectively sparing her from splattering onto the concrete. Her little close call lasts not that long however as the sliver of rope unexpectedly snaps in half, leaving her to her rough descend down back to ground level and tumble across the side of the site. Though left with a couple of mild scrapes, the young woman pulls herself up to find having made it out relatively alright; not a single broken bone or gash to be felt anywhere on her.

But her ordeal is nowhere near over as the doors to the building behind her are kicked open, with the nuclear psychic surrounding himself in a potent green aura as he steps out to continue pursuing after her. With no natural resources left to defend herself with, Satette’s only course of action is to flee from the chasing construction manager; the young woman darting towards the edge of the site blocked off by a picket fence. Approaching the piece of fencing, Sat springs towards one of the construction vehicles left parked close to a towering stack of cinder blocks; kicking herself off both the machine and the set of blocks back to back in rising to the top of the fencing, flipping right over the top of the tipped fence with but one graceful leap.

Hopping right over the picket fence, Satette lands within the backyard of one of the homes neighboring the construction site; the abysmal state of the lawn clear to see as making it all up is left rotted and dry away against the invading influence plaguing this slice of the suburbs. Even the few trees left standing in the middle of the yard left as a hollow shells of their former, flourishing selves. Good lord, this is way worse than I thought. There’s barely anything to work with here. Not a blade of grass or branch left alive anywhere in this yard to work my magic on. Just how long as that radioactive wretch been dosing this poor neighborhood in his radiation?

Yet their proves little time for Satette to ponder over this matter as the wooden picket fence behind her is suddenly blasted apart; the unexpected explosion sending the lively psychic tumbling across the backyard until hitting the side of the house. After pulling herself off the side of the suburban home, Sat gazes back to the smoke left from the blast; a sharp dread setting in as she watches the nuclear psychic stepping out from the clouds of dust. With little to no other sensible course of action for her to take, Satette bolts towards the edge of the abode and hurries down the side and to the front; all the while the construction manager behind her fiercely pursues after; every step he takes burning footsteps in ground he steps on.

“The mob kept me in this shitty pencil pushing job for 6 years, you know? All cause they wanted agents in some of the various industries.” Running across the side of the humble home, Nova plunges his radioactive fist into the buildings walls and tears through its very foundation; the wood crumbling apart against the nuclear psychic’s power. Chasing the young woman straight to the corner of the home, he scatters what pieces of the wall he had built up tearing through the side right at the fleeting intruder; every single chunk of wall shot out left covered in flesh burning radiation. Satette is swift against the thrown out collection of foundation coming at her from behind and throws herself behind a solid bark of a dead tree; though its branches brittle and stripped of leaves, wood proves as hard as ever. “Day in and day out, stuck with stacks of paperwork. Leading around a bunch of muscle headed idiots!” From behind the tree does Sat sprint off towards the house next door furthest from the construction site, hoping to build distance between her and her pursuing nuclear nemesis; the lively psychic swerving right around the home’s front porch.

The site construction boss feverishly after her, Sat leap right over chairs and sliding underneath tables as Nova fires out waves of deadly radiation at her; every blast eviscerating the outside furniture to splinters. “And what do I get from it all, what do I fucking get from the people at the top!?” Vaulting over the railing at the end of the porch, the lively psychic rolls across the yard and hurries towards the next house, frantically sprinting from home to home as quickly as she could away from the chasing construction boss; every abode she zips by, the color in the grass and plants begins to return. “Nothing, zilch, nada, Jackshit!” Its when around the sixth or so house that the lawns, tree’s, and other plant finally start to regain their vibrant color and health; this finally lending Satette an opportunity to stop running and start fighting.

Stamping down on the healthiest patch of grass she see’s, the lively psychic sends her natural green power surging throughout the front lawn just as her nuclear nemesis nears; the blades of grass coiling up through the legs of the construction boss like a bunch of snakes capturing their prey. Against this sudden snag, Nova unleashes a surge of radiation from his body which starts to erode away the enveloping blades of grass; the green strings reduced to withered straw in just mere moments. “Got you right where I want you!” the lively psychic exclaims. Those few meager moments are all Sat needs to race over towards the lawns tree and manipulate its thick, lively branches to all bend out and thrust out after her ensnared enemy; their gnarled pointed tips lunging after him like a host of hornets thrusting their stingers to that which disturbed their nest. Yet not even one of these branches would find their way impaling through the man’s body; for the nuclear psychic unleashes a powerful burst of radioactive energy so thick and potent, the tree’s limb are shriveled to frail sticks in the blink of an eye. This small, but intense wave of radiation saps the color and life of all it comes in contact with, every inch of foliage and insects in but a few yards surrounding the nuclear psychic left as nothing but as withered and lifeless gray husks; Satette left backing away in utter dread just being a few feet away from this terrible wave of intense radiation. his“I’m the reason those goons have any sway in the energy scene in the first place.” That inching retreat turns into a full blown sprint as she immediately starts to scurry away; Nova letting out a gnarled growl as he resumes pursuing her, declaring aloud how: “But once I get done microwaving your body like a cheap TV dinner and send it straight to them; they’ll finally have to promote me, and I can kick this fucking mind numbing bean counting position straight in the rectal passage. Hell, they might even make me a scion bringing you in. I can picture it now. Nova, the scion of plasma! Nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

Dammit, I had no idea this crazed fruit loop powers were this intense; constantly flailing all that nuclear power like its a toy on Christmas day. I can’t just run away from this bastard now, he’ll turn this small slice of the suburbs into a fallout zone just looking for me. I can’t even get near this slicked back dip shit, let alone touch him; everything I try throwing at him, he just radiates away almost instantly. Meanwhile, he gets even one shot on me, and I might as well be thoroughly screwed. If the initial blast doesn’t kill me, the intense radiation poisoning will. There’s gotta be some way to break through this asshole’s radioactive defense and hit him right in his core.

But its while distracted pondering of a way to end this toxic manager that she fails to see the path ahead make a sudden descend and trips down a small grassy incline, fumbling down towards a big community garden filled with lush and healthy flower bushes. And its rolling down to the end of the hill that the someone ends up unknowingly stumbling right in her way, Sat involuntary rams into this poor unsuspecting late night garden goer as they both collapse to the ground. Shaking off the initial dizziness from the clumsy roll down, the lively psychic starts to pick herself up as she takes a gander over to who she had quite literally ran into, surprised to find it to be somebody she had came across into quite recently. Letting out a sickly moan lie the pale woman the lively psychic had ran into when she first arrived in this little humble suburb; her shirt and sweatpants dirtied with grass stains and patches of snot. Wow. No wonder your lil bro was so panicked; this is way worse then I thought. Don’t even look like you’re even all there. Her growing worry over this woman’s condition morphs into escalating panic when she catches site of glowing green peeking out from the top of the hill; Satette scoops up the sickly sister as she scurries over to a big mess of shrubs set on the side, delving deep into their thick brush to hide away from her approaching nuclear nemesis.

From the top of the small incline does Nova slide his way down to the bottom, intently glaring across the humble community garden for a single sign of his pursuit dwelling among the lovely assortments of planted flowers and shrubs. And coming to the bottom, he would find there to be a lot more foliage than he first saw atop the hill; almost half the block having been reserved for this lush and beautiful garden. No doubt it would take a painstaking eternity to uncover the woman he chases after, and that’s if she’s stupid enough to stay put; it’d be a no brainer to simply sneak away while busy digging somewhere else. Of course, posing as a construction manager for so long can teach you a couple of good tricks in scoping stuff out, and a sly mischievous grin cracks as he thinks of a way to apply that strategy here.

In the palm of his hands do sparks of deadly green aura ignite into a pulsing glow of intense radiation; a radioactive power so dense to cause an eerie low hum to echo across the garden. Once concentrating so much nuclear energy into a single point, Nova casts this mass of power as an intense toxic green wave to wash across a massive part of the community garden; the countless flowers and plants withering to colorless husk when struck by the deadly power. Every petal and every leaf strewn through these plants robbed of their vibrant life in but seconds, left so decrepit and irradiated as they simply fall off their dying stems and branches. Yet even with their lush natural coats stripped down and their now frail limbs exposed to the chilly night air, there sits not a sign of the girl he had pursued down here; not even a piece of charred remains to speak off.

His initial disappointment over his lack of discovery is shunted aside when he catches the sound of something falling behind him; the construction manager swiftly peering over to find it being nothing but a normal little boy having tripped against one of the branching roots littering the garden path. It was obvious from the kid’s distraught and frightened demeanor that he had caught Nova in the act of ravaging the community garden with his unnatural nuclear powers, attempting to sneak away quietly while still distracted. “Hey, kid. Let’s chat a bit.” the construction boss menacingly requests while turning to the child. Witnessing the young boy get up to try and escape, a dangerous green glow flares in the palm of Nova’s hands preparing to toss out the concentrated mass of nuclear power to snuff out the unexpected snooper.

Yet his efforts to silence the child are unexpectedly thwarted when the large bush beside him, left spared by the wave of life sapping radiation, suddenly lunges from its spot at the nuclear psychic; its dozen branches rapidly extending to out the construction boss right out from the community garden. The boy’s dreadful fear crack when witnessing among those branches being the young woman he had ran into while searching for his sickly sister just this morning; the limbs of the bush seeming to follow her command as they lash out against the man. He’s left watching in awe from the bizarre display as the pair careen across the neighborhood in almost superhero movie like fashion.

Its following off this brief and unbelievable moment that the kid’s eyes are drawn right to the base of the elongated bush, shocked to find his big sister laying behind the elongated roots. “Sharry!” the boy exclaims, rushing right over to the girl’s side. Awakening from her sickly slumber, the teenage girl shakes off her stupor and comes to the site of her little brother kneeling down to her; his worried glare being the first thing she notices. “Brent? What’s going on?” she asks, rising from the grass. “You wound up wondering out of the house and I had to go look for you. Y-You’re not gonna believe what I just saw. There was a…” he recounts, cutting himself off when gazing to the teenage girl. “A…what? What are you looking at? Is there something wrong with me?” “That’s the thing? You look fine. How do you feel?” Contrasting to her unkempt and stained pajama’s, the teen girl’s complexion stands vibrant and glistening; every evidence of her ever been ill vanished. “I feel…great. Better even.” “You were as pale as a ghost this morning and barely even awake. How is this possible!?” the boy questions.

Among hurdling right over the countless homes across the nightly neighborhood, Satette lashes out to her nuclear nemesis with a twig ripped off from the bush she launched at him with; a line of blood spitting out as the splintered end of the stick strikes against Nova’s face. Before the construction manager could lash back at the lively psychic, the two end up crashing straight through the roof of an evacuated home; the former residence now surrounded by several signs to deter entry and to warn of radiation.

When the clouds of dust and mold settle, Nova comes to and discovers himself standing right in the middle of a desolate and mildly run down living room left with messed up furnishings and stained floors; the dirty pictures framed across the wall depicting a vibrant and happy family. The poor condition of this home is not what baits the construction managers attention, for he instead is drawn to a small shadow retreating from the other side of hall door way; a detail he eagerly rushes towards the enigmatic shadow with a ball of nuclear power ready in his hand. But when leaping out to the other side of the corridor, his enthusiasm wavers when finding the shadow belong to nothing more than a meager rat; common vermin that simply scurries away from Nova’s appearance. Letting out a disgruntled snarl, the construction boss stalks his way down the hallway in search of wherever his lively pursuit may be dwelling; unaware of the woman he seeks peering at him from the cover of a cracked open door.

Retreating away from the other side of the door, Satette backs away into the small guest room she hides within; feeling a chill run down her spine as she bumps her back into the end of the wooden bed frame. Stepping up to the moonlight shining out the window, Sat looks over to a dirty vanity along the side of the room to realize how pale and ill she was starting to look; a literal reflection of how she feels on the inside. Oh damn. Its only been in me a few minutes and I’m already looking like a ghoul. Gotta pass this down soon, or toxic work management of the year prowling out there won’t be my only problem. This little stew just need one more ingredient before its delivered. To this end does the lively psychic then brings the splintered stick she had struck her foe in the face with to her own visage, the drips of blood scratched out from the bastard glistening against the moonlight. Without so much as any hint of hesitance does Satette slides her tongue across the small branch’s rugged bark to the drips of crimson staining its wood; smacking her lips as she gets a good taste of the scarlet liquid. Hmm, so that’s what iron deficiency tastes like.

Prowling out from the eerily quiet and baron hallway, the construction manager comes upon an odd site when entering the kitchen; the dinning table sitting in the middle littered with plates of food, having been left with partially eaten breakfast now covered in ants and bugs. Seems as if the family that had lived here recently had been forced to evacuate from the premises in quite the hurry, frantically enough to not even take one last bite of what was once a damn fine breakfast spread. But regardless of the mildly gnarly site left behind, Nova looks over the spoil spread of eggs, milk, gravy, and bacon and towards one of the cabinets standing on the other side; its door occasionally trembling from something dwelling within. The manager gathers radiation in his palm as he cautiously approaches the shut cabinet door, anticipating for the woman he searches for to spring out on the offense. Curling his fingers around the handle, Nova swiftly swings the cabinet open while aiming his radiation down to what may be inside. Yet what leaps out from within wasn’t what he thought it to be, fumbling back when a lonesome squirrel scurries out from inside and scampers down the hall he came from; the construction manager taking a disgruntled breath as he disperses the concentrated radiation from his hand.

As the squirrel scuttles down the rest of the hallway, it races right past one of the doors left cracked open, with the lively psychic peeking out from the other side of the bathroom. Need to get up close and personal to give out the special little surprise I got wrapped up for this slicked back dipstick, but it seems like he’s not gonna be falling for the sudden distraction tactic again anytime soon. If I try to rush him without some kind of protection, I’ll be cooked faster than a piece of bologna in the microwave. But everything I’ve thrown at him has just blasted away and crumbled into dust; there has to be something that can resist this dude’s toxic personality.

Glancing back into the very bathroom she hides inside, Sat suddenly spots a lone little cockroach crawling across the moldy tile floor; the little bug scurrying away and squeeze itself right underneath the door of the bathroom closet. Opening the door to that very closet is she taken aback when discover the astonishing site dwelling on the other side; an entire colony the pests scurrying across about every shelf within the small space, with some of them scattering out from their home now left exposed. To such a grotesque site that would make about anyone’s skin crawl, Satette rather ponders over this uncovered nest of terrible pests; the young lady snapping her fingers as she suddenly comes up with an interesting solution on countering the cancerous construction boss.

Cracking open one of the home’s many other doors, the construction boss barges his way through and is upset to find himself back into the living room that he had crashed into; pieces of wood and drywall falling out from the hole left in the ceiling. Nova is left a little more than frustrated over having wound up going in a circle; a seething growl escaping from his clenched teeth before he starts to conjure concentrated super radiation in the palms of his hands and shouts that: “This is starting to get irritating, okay. I got a ton of work to file for tomorrow, and I can’t spend all night playing this shitty game of cat and mouse, So quit jerking my dick around and drag your ass out here, before I make this entire house go supernova.”

The moment that Nova witnesses a figure charge at him from the other side of the living room, he fires a ray of nuclear energy upon them; a blast of which sends them tumbling back against the wall. Yet instead of staying down a sizzling under the lethal dose of fiery hot radiation just smacked upon them, the darkened figure instead immediately gets right back up to make another attempt lunge after the manager. Nova backs away as he fires out another blast of radiation against the encroaching foe; the strange being’s crawling skin tanking the blast as only little piece of its body fall apart. Seeing the lumbering terror holding the shape of a person continuing to near, failing to be quelled by sparks of his deadly green power, the construction boss focuses his power into both of his hands before clasping them together to unleash a wave of intense radiation. Taking the intense blow of radiation straight to the head, the strange wriggling figure is pushed back as the side of its head is stripped away; the construction boss watching the beast arise once more and his astonished what he discovers. Underneath the wriggling mass of darkness does he find the very same woman that he had been prowling for among this abandoned abode glaring back at him; the mass of bugs that had shielded her from his nuclear power reforming. “Are those fucking cockroaches!? You’re sick, woman!” “Not as sick as all the people you poisoned! Its time you get a dose of your own medicine.” the lively psychic deflects, charging after her nuclear nemesis.

The bug coated psychic of life continuing to lash out against him, the toxic manager makes a constant retreat from every single lunge that Satette swings at him, retaliating back at her with small and swift waves of radiation; every nuclear slash inflicted upon her tanked by the collection of cockroaches coating her body. Despite her veil of vermin shielding her from the deadly doses of radioactive energy that Nova repeatedly strikes at her with, pieces of Sat’s protective coat are stripped away from every blow; the dozens of cockroaches scalped off her left charred to a crisp against the pure nuclear assault. And it wasn’t long before the lively psychic’s armor of insects begins to thin and crumble, forcing Satette to compel what bugs remain to scuttle around and shield her from the more direct attacks; this development failing to deter her constant approach as she inches closer and closer to the site manager. Once finally closing in enough against the toxic construction boss, Satette thrust her only arm towards the man to drive the tip of a splintered twig right into him; Nova left flinching as the end of the stick digs straight into the front of his shoulder.

Yet this successful plunge past her nuclear nemesis's radioactive defenses fail to stop him from retaliating; Nova driving his fist right into the stomach of her armor before firing out a terrible blast of nuclear power upon her; the force of the blow powerful enough to send Satette careening right into the living room wall. Slamming against the side of the room hard enough to leave cracks behind in the wall, the lively psychic falls to the floor as the last of her coat of cockroaches scatter away and past around their countless charred brethren that litter the floor. What cockroaches he had fried loudly crunching underneath his feet, the toxic construction manager slowly approaches the lively psychic as he grabs the small stick that she had stabbed him with; Nova winching as he up heaves the twig out from his shoulder.

“Did you seriously think that a bunch of bugs and a damn stick would be enough to put a big shot in the making like me down. You have any idea who you’re dealing with here!?” the construction manager exclaims; reducing the twig to nothing but splinters in the palm of his hand. “I know exactly what you are. Just another loser with power who thinks they can trample down on all the little people and get away with it.” rebuttals Satette, glaring up to the nuclear psychic. The toxic construction boss can’t help but burst out laughing from her description, beaming a striking sinister smile down upon the woman as he proclaims how: “Welcome to the real world, sweetheart. The best things in life are for those who stamp down on whoever or whatever they can in their quest to the top of the food chain. From the most powerful politicians in the country, down to the smallest snot nosed brat winning an art contest; everyone does it in one point in their life. Scaling over the countless bodies of all the losers that litter the side of the mountain of life just for a chance to make it all the way to the top. Might sound nihilist, but hey, that’s the way the world turns.”

“But it doesn’t have to be.” Satette refutes, a deflection which deflates her nuclear nemesis wicked grin. “For every sociopath willing to step on others to get what they want, there’s countless other’s holding each other together. Even among the worst of times, people stand with each other in the face of life’s struggles and aspirations. If one of us falls, the others around them help pick us right up. Even if it means if they have to sacrifice their own sake for those they care for.” Speaking this words of inspiration does she think back to the old woman providing her well grown vegetables to the numerous protesters standing against the construction of the power plant threatening their homes. “From the frailest, all the way to the sturdiest pillars, every single piece of a community matters. The smallest of neighborhoods, the biggest of cities. A team of two, to an entire band of thousands. Even if its a small rag tag group of nobodies wanting to make a difference.” To proclaiming this is she reminded of all the people that she had stood by in the face of countless dangers and foes; Frida, Thursotte, Sunny, Tuesco, Monty, and Wedsle, their hopeful smiles solidified in her mind and fueling her determination. “We can stand with one another in the face of adversity. And its about time I remembered that.” “Tsk, yeah? Well let me show you where your cheesy little lesson about teamwork got you.” the radioactive manager offers, aiming his palm square against the young woman as sparks of radiation gather in his hand.

Even when these sparks of nuclear power swell into dangerous bellows of radioactive energy, Satette remains steadfast against the growing threat of this toxic power, Nova left puzzled upon seeing the lively psychic crack a smile of her own. Its when pondering of her positive outlook in the face of certain doom that he starts to notice his arm having lost its natural vibrant color; the radioactive manager disperses the power gathered in his hand to discover his skin left as pale and cold as a corpse. “What?” But its among his now colorless skin that he finds the veins underneath his skin swiftly beginning to darken; the discoloration running from up the that very same arm growing worse from underneath his short sleeved business shirt. “What the hell?” When ripping off the side of his shirt, Nova’s confusion escalates to dreadful panic upon finding the wound left on his shoulder having worsened; the flesh of his body rapidly decaying to the point of chunks falling right off his very bones like pieces of well cooked pork.

“What the fuck!? What the happening to me!? What did you fucking do!?” he shrieks to the woman. “I did exactly what I told you I would, and given you a dose of your own medicine. You’re about to pay for all the people and plants around here you’ve been poisoning; and all of it stemming from one of your victims.” Recollection the brief run in Satette had with the sickly sister back in the community garden, its revealed that while hiding under the cover of the shrubs that the lively psychic had taken the teenage girls ailment and had stowed it away in the temple of her own body. “That doesn’t make sense! My own radiation shouldn’t be effecting me at all! How the hell is it doing this to me!?” “I knew as it stood, that girl’s radiation poisoning wouldn’t do enough on you. So I had idea of modifying the little bug into a full blown virus, one that exclusively sought to devour a specific strand of DNA; all that I needed was just one little morsel to get it hooked.” Satette then thinks back to how she had slashed at her nuclear nemesis, drawing some drops of blood from the cut she had inflicted across his face; lathering the end of the bloodied stick with her own sickly saliva. “After my little pathogen gets done making a meal out of you, it should die out alongside the last of your wicked ambitions. The moment I got close and jammed that stick in your sorry shoulder, your death warrant was signed on the dotted line.”

“You…You goddamn cu-” the toxic construction boss curses, attempting to approach the lively psychic. But just taking a single step towards the young woman would have Nova suddenly fumble down onto the floor; his dreadful panic swelling into borderline horror upon looking back to witness a truly terrifying site; the manager’s leg having been so corroded as to split his foot away from his own leg. Oozing from the sleeve of his pants be the frothy sludge of his own flesh, melting off the joint of his very bones; a site that more than solidified his grizzly fate. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was meant to work my way up from the bottom, working undercover for the mob in this shitty pencil pushing job until I took my rightful place as the new scion. But to die here, to this fucking tree hugging bitch!?” he blathers as portions of his body melt onto the floor. “Sorry bud, seems like your contracts been terminated.” Driven to the brink of fury over his toppling situation, the radioactive manager thrust his partially melted hand straight at the woman who had set his demise; the bones of his fingers reflecting the glow of nuclear power that he conjures in his very palm. The lethal dose of radiation soon evaporates however, as Nova finally succumbs to the merciless hunger of the virus; the radioactive psychic that had brought terror and scourge to this little slice of suburbia left to sizzle in the broth of his own melting body.

This nuclear nightmare having been finally brought to a close, Satette lets out a deep sigh as she slumps against the living room wall; ultimately relieved that she had survived the highly infectious encounter largely unscathed. Holy shit. That was pretty rough. If I hadn’t thought of that whole virus trick, I’d have been cooked for sure. But I can’t lay back and relax just yet, not while there’s still one last bit of work to do.

From the dusk of twilight does the light of the morning sun break upon the city, shining upon both the tallest skyscrapers to the humblest of little homes. Yet on this day, along the edge of a humble inner city suburb, all stands quiet as dozens of onlookers gather; protesters, construction workers, and many others behold what stands in place of the power plant. From base to tip is every inch of the partially constructed building left entwined in blooming tree’s, flowers, and other lively foliage; enveloping the floors, the walls, and beams in lengths of living flora. The tree’s standing with bark abundantly thick, the flowers, so spread and vast. From in the middle of its dead brethren, this spontaneous garden stood tall in the middle of the source of its very blight; a display of nature trouncing upon its sickness. To the unexpected and almost miraculous display of nature do the protesters and neighbors alike all roar out together in a celebration; their gleeful cheer over the end of their plight echoing all across the suburbs. “Whelp. Guess this means the project is canceled. No amount of gardening tools can get through all that.” one of the workers declares. “I’m just worried how Nova’s gonna take this. He’s gonna be so pissed.” “Meh, who cares. The guy’s a fuckin prick.”

The outcry of triumph reverberating across the block and beyond, one such woman who hears this roaring cheer is none other than the one who nobody will know had steered the course of their livelihoods; the lively psychic having delivered them all from being driven from their homes in the face of the radioactive scourge. Expelling a long, loud yawn from her tired grin, Satette wonders out from the concrete walkway to approach the front of one of its humble homes, pulling out the glowing red key from her dress pocket. Coming upon the door to the home, Sat slides the psychic key right into the keyhole to transform the ordinary door into one to lead her back to the safe house.

She’s reaches out and is moments away from turning the knob, when the grasp of another suddenly clutches at her arm; Satette swift to back away from the hand, only to calm herself when finding that grasp belonging to their enigmatic informant donned in the mask of a famous children’s television show character. “Oh, right. I was supposed to find you. Sorry, just had to deal with a lot recently.” she apologizes. “I can tell. I’ve wanted so long to come see you again, especially with all you’ve been through. If only I could’ve come clean and comfort you earlier.” the mysterious masked informant laments. “Alright, wow. Leaning a little hard aren’t you?” “Well, what else do you want from me? Its been eating up inside thinking about what you must’ve been feeling all these months now, all that time we’ve been apart.” “Whoa easy, just…who the hell are you?” “Really? You haven’t figured out who I am yet? I can’t believe you didn’t put the pieces together by now, Satsy?” “Sat…Satsy…” the lively psychic utters.

Reaching to the silly mask used to cover their visage, the informant pries the veil of her anonymity away to present to Satette the woman underneath; her long brunette locks unfurling from underneath the hoodie as she’s finally able look upon the psychic she had so deeply yearned for with her naked jade eyes. Wells of emotion surge within every fiber of Sat’s being in beholding the informant’s caucasian visage; tears of swelling joy running down her cheeks as she recognizes the woman standing before as someone dearly beloved once thought lost. Satette, so shaken to her very core, that she can’t help but tremble as she whispers in hopeful disbelief: “Janna…”

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

have i asked for stan and kyle's favorite books/movies yet? i assume ur stan can read unlike mine smh

Lmfaooooo what a slay ask as ALWAYS from the wife!!! OJV Stan can, in fact, read, he just gets distracted (adhd boy across the ncu/ojv board!)

I got sooooo many ideas for this one YOUR HONOR THEY ARE MASSIVE DORKS!!!

They like a lotttt of the same stuff, Game of Thrones, Lord of the Rings, oh my god they are HUGE Bill and Ted fans they’re definitely being “excellent to each other” if ya know what I mean ;) another favorite is Percy Jackson and Stan 100% cried during that part in MOA (same) Kyle made the rest of the M5 listen to the audiobooks and Cartman has definitely read every depraved fanfiction ashdhdksl. Stan and Kyle are SUCH fantasy nerds especially Stan out here learning tolkien elvish to rizz the sbf up smh

Style went FERAL over The Last of Us show they loved the games so much and oh my goodness they… may or may not have had a Voltron phase (it was Cartman’s fault) BRUH!!!!! Ok these two LOVE Kevin Smith’s filmography!!!! Kyle’s favorite is Tusk and Stan’s is Clerks 3 he SOBBED HIS EYEBALLS OUT!!!

Kyle’s definitely also into documentaries, particularly historical ones, where Stan kind of spaces out unless it’s animal planet (king shit) also DUDE How To Train Your Dragon is a fave. Kyle LOVES Dead Poets Society.

So Kyle definitely is a little more inclined to reading, though they’re both a sucker for a story, but he’s the one who actually sat down and read GOT, actually enjoyed the assigned reading in high school, like this man was out here enjoying the HELL out of A Separate Peace, Lord of the Flies, Of Mice and Men, and HOLY SHIT he ADORES Ray Bradbury. OrangeJuiceVerse Kyle is such an idealistic guy, he fucks that magical realism UP!!! Def likes poetry, Kipling is a FAVE!!! Also down to read think pieces, absolutely loves when something gets him thinking about human nature. Shakespeare too! His favorite is A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Stan’s favorite is Titus Andronicus.

Stan Marsh, our resident hopeless romantic, ADORES MUSICALS! He has made everyone in the Star Seven watch every single Team Starkid Show (his favorite is probably Twisted) (Kenny likes Starship because he loves him some puppets) (kys fave is The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals bc the title made him laugh) Stan, Cartman, and Marj are THE trio to go see musicals it’s so fun! And Stan’s favorite broadway musical was in fact The Lightning Thief. He’s a big enjoyer of The Music Man too. And LITTLESHOP!!! Oh dude he watched the helll out of Austin & Ally lmfao

I’ve mentioned before Stan watching alllll the sappy ass Dog Movies when he’s depressed, holed up in the Sadsack Hoodie with Old Yeller, 8 Below, Homeward Bound, Where the Red Fern Grows, Far From Home: The Adventures of Yellow Dog (that one’s a fave bc happy ending and the kid in it looks like him) and that poor guys just making himself more upset :(

Oh Kyle is SO into The Hunger Games he read the books and analyzed the SHIT out of them!!!

Oh! Stan loves Supernatural lmao and he and Tweek binge watched it while Stan was out of work w the broken ribs and Tweek was detoxing (Operation Beat Tweek’s Withdrawals/Stan’s Boredom as referenced in chap 6 of BBFA2) Stan also made Tweek watch Poultrygeist (Tweek hated it) (I also hated Poultrygeist like my husband is friends with Lloyd Kaufman and I’ll watch that weird old man’s work but all of it grosses me out lmao)

Thank you for the ask Melda Tâe (my beloved queen) I LOVE BEING ANNOYING!!!

[good-realtor-bad-realtor-dynamic]

They livestreamed the press conference!

Summary of the Glenn stuff

Glenn gets asked about his final scene where his character Jim is betrayed by Jay's character Mike and how he played it

This comes up again at the end of the panel and he, Jay and Matt all go into that scene in a lot more detail from the perspective of acting and shooting, and Matt goes into the strengths of comedy actors in those scenes

"I do not support Canada."

Glenn never had a Blackberry, he hates phones and computers for forcing him to be in touch with other people: "I just want to be left alone." Aww never change.

But he was seduced by the iPhone.

When asked how he played a serious role like Jim and still had him feel funny, Glenn talks about how he's always playing the characters intentions as seriously as always, and how there's not much of a difference between comedic and dramatic performances. If you've heard him talk about Dennis, you know this one.

Matt, Jay and Glenn, as the three main characters, kind of became a trio on set with their own private conversations

Playing a guy who embodies toxic male culture especially from the 90s and 00s: he was just playing Jim as written and didn't know if he would be the same in a modern work environment

Matt steps in and talks about his intention writing Jim into rooms full of young male nerds and how he wanted to tap into the male locker room nerd culture he grew up with and the sense of danger and violence that seeps in with a more traditionally masculine guy like Jim entering that space

Our fruity theatre kid talks about hating male-dominated spaces and gets roasted for saying he preferred feminine energy lmao

Glenn hates "alpha" bros and finds them insecure and obnoxious, and this role let him to play that aspect of himself which he finds gross. He finds it easier to play characters who aren't like him.

Matt wanted to hire comedy actors because he likes the unpredictability and randomness and kinetic energy they bring to their performances. It allows him to shoot them from very far away like in a National Georgraphic wildlife documentary.

Glenn focused on playing the character in the script and in Matt's vision instead of doing too much research into irl Jim and was helped by the fact that these people are big public figures

"Gene Roddenberry created the cell phone."

By the end of the movie, Jim and Mike have affected each other and done a slight role reversal. Glenn and Jay tried to play it quiet after a lot of shouting and show that even though Jim was hurt, he almost respected Mike at the end and was almost relieved that it had happened

Mat talks about using closeups instead of a master shot at the end to catch fleeting microexpressions. Glenn goes "I give it everything baby — big, small, I don't give a shit" and it gets Matt laughing.

The panel is mostly Matt Johnson, the director, co-writer and one of the actors in the film, talking about how he made the film in quite a bit of detail (rightly so) and it's an interesting listen. Funny too.

How they wrote and adapted the movie, focusing on the rise more than the fall, and autobiographical elements

Cinematography, lenses and Matt's fake documentary style

Developing a Canadian cinema in English with Canadian crew and finance while avoiding American Hollywood influences

Throws some shade at John Belushi

Talks up Star Trek writers and fans both and their effect on tech

and so on, I can't be bothered to type any longer.

Reviews from the Blackberry movie are starting to drop and they're all looking positive! The leads, Jay Baruchel and our little old man Glenn Howerton, are getting a lot of praise for their performances in all the reviews I've seen!

There's a couple of reviews on Variety and Deadline that even go so far as to say Glenn stole the show as the villainous Jim, which may be hyperbolic of them, idk, but in any case, I'm just happy he's finally getting recognition for his acting abilities outside Sunny and AP Bio!!! And it's at the Berlin Film Festival too, so fingers crossed this could lead to better roles for him in the future!

Sidenote: Going though twt, and it looks like Glenn was in Berlin today to do a panel with Matt Johnson, Jay and Cary Elwes.

[thebluespirit83]

debunking pro-snape/anti-james arguments and putting it on the internet because clearly i hate myself. buckle up. this is gonna be a VERY long post. im ready for the amount of hate i will get; im willing to take one for the team. 

1. james forced lily into dating/marrying/etc him 

this literally never happened? because its almost as if lily is her own person who is able to stand up for herself-

“I wouldn’t go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid,” said Lily.

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!” Lily shouted. She had her own wand out now. James and Sirius eyed it warily.

She turned on her heel and hurried away [from james]. 

-and so she would not allow someone to walk all over her. its almost as if james (canonically) matured as a person, and she appreciated this, realised he was a good person and got feelings for him? because james’ only negative traits were that he was conceited and a show off. people are able to mature and grow from these things! james did this! he did not ‘force’ lily to go out with him!

2. james and the other marauders bullied snape

you know what, i cant even disagree with this one. you’re right - they did bully him. but lets look a little bit at the context. 

sirius and james were both upper class, naive white rich boys. they are idiots. they were both stupid smart teenagers!! they were popular! and while this does not excuse the gross bullying snape was subject to-

Pink soap bubbles streamed from Snape’s mouth at once; the froth was covering his lips, making him gag, choking him

Several people watching laughed; Snape was clearly unpopular ... Snape was trying to get up, but the jinx was still operating on him; he was struggling, as though bound by invisible ropes.

-it (unfortunately) makes sense with context. james and sirius also stopped bullying people, and even expressed discomfort/regret with the way they acted-

“I’m not proud of it,” said Sirius quickly.

“Of course he was a bit of an idiot!” said Sirius bracingly, “we were all idiots!

[sirius talking to remus] you made us feel ashamed of ourselves sometimes

A lot of people are idiots at the age of fifteen. He grew out of it.

-when they were younger! i’d also like to point out these little lines i noticed when i was finding quotes for my argument which snape stans like to ignore:

James and Snape hated each other from the moment they set eyes on each other

I mean, he [snape] never lost an opportunity to curse James

there was a flash of light and a gash appeared on the side of James’s face, spattering his robes with blood

wow, look at that. the hate they felt for each other was mutual! snape also jinxed james! but oh wait - james was the one who matured! snape was the one who bullied his son twenty years later because he looked like james! 

3. snape didnt abuse the kids at hogwarts 

here’s a real argument i saw when looking through some pro-snape posts: ‘snape wasn’t an abuser, because abusers don’t let their victims retaliate, but snape did let the kids talk back to him’

what. the. fuck?! 

this is the dictionary.com definition of abuse: ‘to treat in a harmful, injurious, or offensive way’ or ‘to speak insultingly, harshly, and unjustly to or about’. i’m pretty sure snape did both of these things-

“I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!”

“So,” said Snape, gripping Harry’s arm so tightly Harry’s hand was starting to feel numb.

Snape threw Harry from him with all his might.

[hermione’s teeth]  "I see no difference."

‘Idiot boy!’ snarled Snape [at neville]

-on multiple occasions. i’d also like to remind you guys that neville’s worst fear is SNAPE?! his TEACHER, a figure that is supposed to be there for emotional and educational support is his worst fear in this entire world?! above the woman who drove his parents to insanity? over failure, over his abusive grandmother, over everything? his teacher? and for the pro-snaper that used this quote-

Nearly everyone laughed. Even Neville grinned apologetically.

-to claim that it was a joke, it isn’t a joke. because when snape came out of that cupboard, he was terrified. yes, it’s an embarrassing thing to have as your boggart, but the point is is that it is. he is terrified of that man. 

4. james only joined the order because his wife was a muggleborn and he ‘had to’

this is just factually incorrect. james had been sticking up for muggleborn rights since he was in school, far before he started dating or even became friends with lily: 

“Apologize to Evans!” James roared at Snape, his wand pointed threateningly at him.

“I’d NEVER call you a - you-know-what!”

so this is literally not true!! plus, at least he did join the order, whatever his reasons where (which were canonically good). snape didnt join the order. snape was friends with someone who suffered discrimination in society, and instead of using his privilege to help her and support her, he joined a group that was set on murdering people like her. when james had a friend who underwent oppression (remus/lycanthropy) you know what he did? he illegally became an animagus. 

5. snape had to be a death eater to survive at hogwarts as he roomed with blood supremacists

this is the shittiest excuse i have ever seen in my entire life. as a poc, this comment really reminds me of the argument ‘i was raised in a racist white household! i cant control my beliefs!’

you can always control your beliefs. i understand not going on big rants about blood inequality in front of a bunch of supremacists, and i understand wanting to blend and fit in (especially because he was unpopular and needed the support the slytherin boys provided), but i will never understand then becoming an active member of the group yourself. he got the dark mark. he helped voldemort. he was a death eater, and a proud one at that! no-one forced him to join. this argument literally makes my blood boil. 

6. snape had a lot of trauma from being raised in an abusive household

okay? so did sirius. so did neville. luna was bullied at school, just like snape. harry lived in an abusive household. did any of those people bully children? did any of those people join a blood supremacist group? and dont get me wrong, im not calling any of these people perfect - they all had a lot of flaws - but none of them hurt another people to the extreme that snape did. 

7. snape saved the trio’s lives many times

this is the absolute bare minimum. ‘oh wow, he didnt let harry die!! what a king! he should be respected and praised! we should excuse all of his other actions because he didnt let people die <3′ 

8. snape is not a perfect person, he also did good that many people overlook

you’re right, snape did do some good things in his life. but unfortunately, for me and many others, doing a couple of good things doesnt excuse all of the shitty, abusive things he did too. we’re not ignoring them - we just dont think they’re good enough reasons to forgive him. 

‘but james and sirius hurt others! you ignore all the bad things they did in favour of the good!’ you do the same thing with snape, first of all. second, they did a lot of good stuff. james’ and sirius’ only crimes were being annoying. for being a bit of a dick, conceited, knew they were hot and were a bit entitled. while these things are annoying as fuck, they were also stupid teens that eventually grew out of their behaviour and became better people. not perfect! better. while snape just stayed bitter at the marauders, long after their deaths, and even took his anger out on an innocent child. 

9. people only hate snape because he was poc and queer coded

as a poc and queer person, please stop. this is a very bad excuse. being poc and queer (which im pretty sure he isnt, but anyway) doesnt excuse you from your actions. plus, a huge amount of harry potter readers are poc and lgbtq. why would they hate snape for those reasons?! 

so thats all i got for today. im not gonna go into a deep snily/jily thing because i literally cannot be bothered. anyway im done. i need to go revise, i’ve already spent long enough on this.