#Mark: “Do you think it will eat a chili dog?!”

[kindheartedgummybears]

TDiM | TDiM if Charlie just let the crew stay home /j

Yay, TDiM memes again!

[atschoolunfortunetly]

Sonic and Tails Wholesome Wednesday: My Comeback

I LIVE! I going to be honest with ya; this is simply a draft I rewrote in my free time. I don't know if I will be posting every single Wednesday again. I can try but don't have hope. In any case, enjoy the story!

~~~~~

Tails was working away in his workshop with no distractions. He was near completion when a knock on his door startled him and his head nearly whipped around so fast that one would think he broke it.

Sonic walked in without Tails saying a word and had one expression on his face that Tails knew meant he was in for a lecture. Disappointment.

“Tails,” He began tiredly.

“Sonic,” Tails greeted back, hoping not to show nervousness on his face.

“What happened to the mint ice-cream I just bought yesterday?”

Oh, and here Tails thought he did something seriously wrong. Nerves left his body as a slight grin grew on his face.

“...I ate it.”

“All of it?”

“Yes.”

Silence before Sonic let out the biggest sigh Tails had ever heard come from his mouth.

“Tails.”

“Sonic.”

“You know the consequences, don’t you?”

Tails tried not to chuckle, “I have fifteen seconds to hide before you hunt me down?”

“Nah, that’s for if you had the last chili-dog. The punishment for this is,” Sonic paused for dramatic effect, “Death! Execution! Thine bloodline ends here brother!”

“Gasp, you’re gonna kill me? How could thine? I thought our bond was stronger than this!” Tails spoke dramatically.

“Our bond shattered when you ate an entire carton of mint ice cream by yourself even though I told you not to. I’ll grant you this question though brother, how do thine wish to go out? Your choice,” Sonic smiled, trying not to laugh.

“Uh, hm,” Tails faked pondering, “How about no? No death at all.”

“No? Thine denies his fate!? Then I shall choose!” Sonic declared before tapping his feet and snapping his fingers, trying to think out a way he can continue the bit.

Tails took this opportunity to get up from his chair and bolt for the nearest window. Sonic, having too much fun, used this chance to run into the house to pick up two plastic swords before meeting Tails outside.

He tossed one of the swords over to Tails and twirled the other in his hand, “Thou can’t escape his fate! We shall duel!”

Tails looked shocked at first before giggling. He then got in a fighting stance with a grin, “Fight we shall! Only one brother can make it out alive!”

The plastic swords clashed as Sonic and Tails began going back and forth with swings and jabs only barely missing their marks. Sonic decided he would put some actual effort in and Tails began losing…badly. He tried his best, honest! But his arms were getting tired and his moves were getting sloppy.

Tails tripped over his own feet, landing backwards on the ground getting his fur dirty. The fake sword in Sonic’s hand poked him lightly in the chest. His brother had a big grin on his face while Tails was simply trying to catch his breath, not caring that they lost their little game. His stomach let out a growl and Sonic sighed.

“When was the last time you ate?” He asked.

“Uh…” Aw crud, what was the last thing he ate? “I…I think I accidentally ate a fly just a bit ago. Does that count?”

“No, eating unlucky flies does not count,” Sonic flatly stated before pulling out his phone, “Pizza or Chinese?”

“Chinese, we had pizza yesterday,” Tails answered with a sigh.

“Alrighty, you go in and take a shower and the food should be back by then.”

Tails pulled himself off the ground with a smile and looked Sonic in the eye, “Next time, I’m going to win!”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh huh!”

Sonic chuckled, “Alright then, when you do I’ll buy another carton of mint ice cream.”

Tails laughed and made his way back inside without replying. Sonic simply shook his head with a smile, “God, what would I do without this kid.”

[voyagers-stone]

ashlyn banner hcs !! <3

Dips her french fries in milkshake/icecream

avid reader. specifically for high fantasy and thriller novels, she likes the world building and detailed monologue, which aiden is continuously confused about.

will NEVER speak about reading.

she thinks itd ruin her reputation as the responsible one.

the only reason aiden knows about it is because of the amount of times hes broken into her house.

knows a small amount of sign language and tried to speak with ben using it.

did not realize he was just mute and deaf, so he didn't know wtf she was doing.

embarrassed herself greatly with that last one.

took ben a couple of days of various frantic and concerned gestures to let her know that it was okay.

plays rhythm games on her phone when shes tired/can't access her ddr machine.

i think if anyone saw her playing, she'd tell them it's "just for the game play" but she knows somewhere deep, deep down shes there for the anime girls.

some of their stories are just so sad, okay? she can't help but want to keep reading a bit.

// im a hashtag "ashlyn as a normal teenage girl" kind of person okay. we saw her and her father outside of the hospital.

has a growing beanie collection, but only the soft ones so its not sensory hell.

listens to pink floyd, nirvana, michael jackson, red hot chili peppers, and the smiths (when shes sad)

fan of porcelain creechures. dogs, birds, cats. i like to think shes got a little showcase somewhere of them.

logan always gives her really big bouquets of flowers after ballet recitals.

she feels a bit guilty throwing old ones away so she dries them and uses them as book marks.

borrows books from the library that she sees logan reading.

this is something she thought of after taylor started to try and teach her how to talk to people.

she thought that if she wanted to start a conversation, she'd get logan to talk about recent books hes read.

taylor brings her out for slushies at the gas station often

practically begged taylor to come over to her house when her ddr machine broke.

she was absolutely distraught.

tyler witnessed her begging and wanted to make fun of her, but the pity he felt outweighed his need to be an ass so he shrunk back into his and taylors room.

taylor fixed it and she almost cried thanking her.

tyler and ashlyn are resident judgement and shit talkers.

eventually, taylor knows all of the gossip from the popular kids/sports kid so he's got to find someone else to talk to. his first person was obviously ben because hes a great listener, but he seemed too nice to laugh at others misfortune, so when him and ashlyn teamed up together to make fun of aiden eating shit on the sidewalk after he does something dumb....he found his new target.

i don't think its particularly mean gossip, but more like your average catch-up-on-events kind of thing.

dead silence "........you know who i really hate?" kind of talk

i also think tyler and ashlyn are gym buddies.

maybe it'd take her a while to get to the point to want to hang out with him somewhere like the gym, so they usually go on runs or bike rides together.

they make aidens scrawny ass play ddr with them. ill talk more about that in his headcanons though.

[dickinfectionbez]

Ooh babes you good (I'm actually having fun) tho I'm really going to try and top whatever we have rn.

Wait wait we fight to pay over the cola slushie and I say that I should cause I asked you out so my treat but ik you're really stubborn (little did yk that I've actually liked you all along and have enacted this entire scheme so you'd go out with me ) and then you have like an angry teddy bear expression and a slight pout and then I suddenly scream that oh my god that's such a cute dog (fingers crossed you like dogs) and you turn around and then I quickly pay and then you turn back and glare at me and now my heart is in my throat because I don't know if that's an actual glare and you mad or you faking but then you smirk and smile and say you'll let this one go only because you like me so much.

I ask you favourite colour and you say you don't want to leave any out lest they feel bad and my heart grows more fonder towards you and I'm falling slowly but I'm sure as hell falling towards smth.

First I fuckin squeal about the fact that we both enjoy motor sports and then i say maverick and bez not a bad choice but my heart lies with the marquez Brothers and we discuss the merits of either of them and then agree to disagree. During all that I see how passionate you are and decide if you were leading smth I'd willingly following you for that cause.

I agree on jenson and lando but I'm a Carlos girlie always but I do have a soft spot for lando and jenson surprisingly and I really like seb and I'm willingly to be his mistress if things come down to it and you laugh at that cause my desperation for seb amuses you and I want to hear you laugh again and again so I keep making a fool of myself.

Nandos is where you'd lose me cause I really don't like eating there if I don't have to although I love chips with like chili's and vinegar on it but ultimately I tell you that I love sea food and would die for a paella anytime.

I'm so mesmerized by you that I don't even realise that you've brought me to the museum and you've been taking photos of me and I joke and say there was no need to come here to the museum the art was already next to me (cliche ik bear with me ) and you look at me with a twinkle in your eye and scoff my comment off (I'm actually a pyscho kind of need about museums and history and art and things ) and then I suddenly have such an intense bit of feelings rush inside me in that moment that it's difficult to breathe and then I realise that I really liked spending time with you.

And scene.

We still doing this right ? Or is it a bit lengthy and tiresome now ?

This is so cute wtf.

When you're not looking, too distracted by the cute dogs I slip a fiver into your pocket. You talk about Seb and being his mistress and I mention his actual mistresses, (Mark and Fernando). We talk about Carlando and the Singapore GP and the classic grid.

For lunch we grab some pastries from the supermarket and I let you pay, watching as you use the fiver note. We spend lunchtime outside in a park, no picnic blanket just out coats. Thankfully it's warmer than usual. We lie down on the ground watching the clouds and I turn to lie on my side and study your face.

Inside the museum, I point out the history of the paintings, arm around yours as we stare at the ancient jewelry, I spend most of my time showing you pieces I think would suit you best.

[punkbakerchristine]

i was actually 8 years old when my mom showed me how to make tuna casserole, but i didn’t start getting familiar with the kitchen until i was about 19. i took up doing it all by scratch back in october.

corned beef reuben and pastrami on rye

hot, and depending on the kind, just a bit of sugar

takeout

when i lived in oregon, there was this one place down the street from me called the waffle hut and they served waffles all day, especially liège waffles. i also like me a place like chili’s or denny’s!

hot (unless the day is hot, then i prefer cold stuff)

cook for a crowd

oof, white, milk, and dark, in that order

my grandparents had some! they were cows, if i recall correctly? i’d love to have some of my own, though, like tardises or aliens

lots of fruit, especially watermelon and berries. i like hot dogs, pasta salad, and burgers during the summertime, too

ketchup. mayonnaise and gravy, too (poutine is heavenly, even to an american like me!)

mac and cheese, and very much so

both

in baking: yes, absolutely. i guess it could be a case by case thing in cooking (like for example, if you’re using an air fryer)

no, but it’s a goal, though!

halloumi cheese, spanakopita, souvlaki, coq au vin, kreplach, kishkas, sufganiyot, matcha, ube/halo-halo, bibimbap, black garlic, blueberry cobbler from tom’s place

norad-level sensitive

my spice cake, maybe a pie or my blondies?

ohhhh, yes

cooking, but i love to bake and i’d like to learn how to grill

apple

somewhat? the hellofresh boxes kind of make you look ahead to the week and think about what to eat during the day.

coconut shrimp: i’ve grown to appreciate coconut but i can’t with shrimp, though (i don’t even like touching shrimp)

chocolate babka something chocolate

the flour used (pasta’s made with durum flour, noodles are made with straight all-purpose flour)

soup, pie, my mom’s chili, shepherd’s pie, pot roast

savory. dry, too

everything bagel and blueberry bagel

last time i was really sick (about 5 years ago, i had that horrible stomach flu), i couldn’t eat anything for almost a day. when i got my appetite back, first thing i ate was sun chips: good wheat, salt, and light so easy on the tum.

5-6 (around 7 in the summertime). my stepdad liked to have dinner later in the evening and i never did like it because it’s hard on the brain.

not a gamer, so nope!

salt and pepper. i like cinnamon, ginger, garlic powder, cumin, and turmeric, too.

oh, god, so many to choose from! i like spice cake, apple pie (especially à la mode), blueberry pie, blackberry cobbler, strawberry shortcake, chocolate babka, key lime pie, princesstårte, blondies and anything with white chocolate or the whole “cookies and cream” thing, gingerbread cookies and cake, all of your little debbies… heh 😅

no marks per se, but i have been splattered with hot oil a few times before 🥴

ohhh, yes

probably mexican or italian (my favorites are mediterranean and middle eastern)

Sweet, without question

let’s see, springtime is coming so i’m looking forward to things like strawberries, citrus, brussels sprouts, and fresh herbs; summertime, we get berries and melons again (mangoes, too)!

a fork; as for cooking, my blue spatula

yes, but lightly

bow ties and corkscrew

strawberry or raspberry

nope! i’ve only burned something all of twice, too, and i caught it right away

sit-downs—i would like to try out a cart, though

nope, i’m easy on all of the kitchen appliances (as everyone should be!)

yes yes yes yes

i couldn’t drink milk for a while because it would upset my stomach

not really, but i do enjoy root beer and cream soda!

the seven species of israel and the mediterranean diet: both extremely healthy and versatile

the big bible of amazing cakes from the great british baking show, paul hollywood’s book on bread, mary berry’s baking bible, my mom’s betty crocker book that she’s had for like ever, and my stepdad’s mom left behind all manner of cookbooks in the kitchen (i found myself looking through her asian cookbook one afternoon)

with other people

always

cookbooks, online, hellofresh sends recipe cards with the weekly box

nuts and fruit 🔥

nope, don’t like crumbs in my bed

can’t say there is?

water chestnuts

every couple of weeks, like on saturdays or when i make the last hellofresh meal on wednesday

yes, love fish!

i’ve dropped knives, silverware, ladles, big spoons, my spatula, measuring cups and spoons, even frozen pizza as i was putting it in the oven… but never pots or trays of food. i’m always careful with these sorts of things.

salted, although i’ve found the two don’t really make much difference

beginner. i’m not even close to pro level

either a hibachi or a tandoor

actually going (i reckon delivery people like instacart would mess it up somehow)

if my struggles with weight and love of baking are of any indication… 😉

scrambled and sunny side up

fizzy water

HELL NO. couldn’t pay me money to drink one of those

large pepperoni and sausage

make sure your knife is sharp and you have something to protect your eyes

an attempt at being healthy (if i’ve lost 60+ pounds, i’m obviously doing something right)

sit down at a restaurant (i’m like george costanza that way: if i eat it at home, i feel like i’m not doing anything)

can’t say i have. i’ve dropped stuff on the floor and threw it out

it’s nectar and bees are more like the middlemen in making it so… yes

duqqa

gingerbread: my sis-in-law asked me how to make it after the family got my cookies last month

sometimes

brown

hehe, nope 😉

chicken cordon bleu, so not yet

of course!

cinncinnati chili, fresh bread, fried chicken

Are there any foods that give you headaches?

they’re a delicacy and i guess deep-fried crickets when salted taste just like french fries?

i was a barista for a couple of weeks

sharing food on my plate: not really because it’s always refused (sigh); sharing food on other plates: if it looks good, then yes

love the taste and smell of it, too

straight water or lemonade

to an extent

i live in california, aka the breadbasket of the country and home to oranges, avocados, almonds, strawberries, specialty wines, apples, chili peppers, broccoli, garlic, carrots… if it grows out of the ground, we’ve probably got it!

Food-inspired ask challenge! Send a few numbers, learn something new!

How old were you when you first learned to cook?

What’s your favorite sandwich?

If you drink it, how do you like your tea?

Which of these terms are you most likely to use?: Takeaway, takeout, carryout, to-go, or grab ‘n go

Do you have a favorite restaurant? If yes, what is it?

Do you prefer hot or cold drinks?

Would you rather cook a meal for a crowd or do the dishes afterward?

Do you prefer white, milk, or dark chocolate?

Do you have novelty salt and pepper shakers? If yes, what are they?

What foods do you like to eat when it's hot outside?

If you eat fries, what condiments do you like to dip them in?

What was your favorite food as a child, and do you still enjoy it?

Do you bite into or lick your ice cream?

Would you consider air to be an ingredient in your cooking or baking?

Do you collect silverware, mugs, cups, bowls, or plates?

Is there anything you haven’t had that you’d like to eat someday?

How would you describe your spice tolerance?

What would you bring to eat at a picnic?

Does caffeine wake you up?

Which do you do more of?: Cooking, baking, or grilling

What’s your favorite fruit juice?

Do you meal plan?

What’s your least favorite food?

What food, snacks, or drinks would you most likely bring to a potluck?

How do you distinguish between pasta and noodles?

What foods do you like to eat when it's cold outside?

Do you have a preference for sour, sweet, salty, savory, or dry flavors?

What’s your favorite type of bagel?

What do you eat when you’re feeling sick?

Around what time do you usually have dinner?

Have you ever cooked something you saw or heard about in a video game?

What are the most commonly used seasonings in your cupboard?

What’s your favorite dessert?

Do you have any scars or burn marks on your hands from cooking?

Do you mind when the food on your plate touches?

Which world cuisine are you the most familiar with?

Sweet or savory pies?

Are there any seasonal foods or ingredients that you’re looking forward to?

What eating utensil do you use the most often?

Do you like to toast your bread?

What is your favorite pasta shape?

What’s your favorite fruit-flavored candy?

Have you ever triggered the smoke alarm while you were cooking?

Food carts or sit-down restaurants?

Have you ever broken a microwave?

Do you enjoy salads?

Do you have any food allergies or food intolerances?

Do you drink soda pop? If yes, what's your favorite flavor or brand?

If you had to eat the same food every day for a month, with no variation, what would you choose?

Do you own any cookbooks?

Do you prefer to eat alone or with other people?

Do you cover your mouth with your hand while you're chewing?

Where do you find the majority of your recipes from?

What’s your favorite snack food?

Do you eat in your bed?

Is there anything that isn't edible that you’ve really wanted to eat?

What’s your favorite vegetable?

How often do you order restaurant food to be delivered?

Do you eat fish?

Have you ever dropped a pot or tray of food that you were in the middle of cooking?

Salted or unsalted butter?

Where would you rank your cooking abilities?: Beginner, intermediate, or professional?

What luxury kitchen appliance would you like to own the most?

Would you prefer to go to the grocery store or have your groceries delivered?

Do you have a sweet tooth?

If you eat eggs, how do you like them prepared?

What do you call carbonated water?

Do you drink energy drinks?

What’s your favorite pizza order?

How do you feel about raw onions?

How would you describe your everyday diet?

Would you rather sit down in a restaurant for a meal, or have food to-go and eat it at home?

Have you ever taken something you were in the middle of cooking and thrown it into the trash?

Do you consider honey to be vegan-friendly?

What’s your favorite condiment?

What’s a recipe you’re good at that everyone asks you to make?

Do you drink milk?

Brown or white rice?

Do you have any leftovers you need to eat?

Can you make your favorite food?

Do you like melted cheese?

What are your safe or comfort foods?

Are there any foods that give you headaches?

How do you feel about eating insects?

Have you ever worked in food service?

How do you feel about sharing food that's on your or someone else’s plate?

Do you like the taste of raw celery?

When you're feeling thirsty, what do you usually want to drink?

Would you consider yourself an adventurous eater?

Are there any foods, flavors, or ingredients unique to where you live?

[leori-the-unlearned]

i’ve had this written out for a lil while but wasn’t sure whether to post it or not but i WILL cause i care about it and like it but:

a bunch of vibe associations for tangle and whisper!!! it is a lot so that’s why it’s under a ��read more’

it is also NOT formatted in a fancy way, it is an experience. now be free and consume!!

~ ~ ~

whisper associated with sleepy mornings- not that she isn’t a morning person, but that she has the vibes of an early day, yellow sunbeams stretching through window slats to keep the sun out of your eyes, sitting at the breakfast table and sipping at coffee that finished brewing a minute ago. nothing to do, yet, but knowing you will. not a fleeting moment, but temporary, lingering.

moving with… not always grace. she’s not always perfect, pristine predator like people like to think hunters are. she knows how to move, but she’s just as capable of being lazy or clumsy or just aimless as anyone else. but it’s the little things; the ways she has practiced motions and routines for things, smoothly drawing her stirring spoon out of the cabinet or pouring just the right amount of cream into her coffee, and those moments you can see all the grace in her for a glimpse

sometimes, she’s the early morning. the time before day when nobody is known to wake, just before the day proper begins. it feels like an outlawed time - like a time you’re not supposed to see, whittling away at the dripping hourglass of the earth with everything alive unawares.

she’s fluffy breads crafted with love, spongy breads like cakes, the sorts you eat at blown-up events and parties and make for small gatherings of your loved ones. she’s glossy hardwood, firm and solid and so so warm, in the lightest way. the golden of early light, of the nursery room dressed in rich caramels and unstained woods. 

tangle is not practiced. there’s hardly anything she seems to do the same way, except flit from place to place and bounce, except for the things she does like clockwork. going by ron’s chili dog place every tuesday a little after one, or closer to two on the days she practices out in the woods and always spends a little longer out than she thinks she will and gets hungrier than the lunch she brought along, and they’re not always tuesdays but they’re regular all the same

and otherwise, she’s in two phases

one, too large for life, too large for the house she’s in, tail coiled and bristling excitedly and so so ready to get out of the house

and the other, content. lazing on the couch, working on a labor of love with dedication and intent and patience as she gets too wrapped up in her task to notice the hours going by. fitting perfectly between flashy wallpaper and pops of color.

two phases brought about by the taste of adventure, or the resolution afterwards when everything winds down and tangle needs a break

she’s the flavor of blue raspberry popsicles after you’ve spent probably forty minutes swimming, still feeling the lasting marks of the water’s hold after you’ve dried off and still feeling ghosts of the currents you fished through, but spending a moment to enjoy this treat. it only lasts so long as it lasts, but it lasts forever until it’s over, and the smell of adventure follows you, because you’re going to get back in the pool- later, which will be now before you’ve known it and after an eternity.

a life spent gliding between chase after chase, flickering interests like striking matchflames and those softer eternal loves lingering like the smoke and candlesmell. strawberries and some sort of homely baked scent that tells you there’s something waiting for you.

mannerisms - where whisper makes small, certain movements, planned and arranged before she makes them, tangle uses the confidence of a street food cook who’s been doing this for years and has the recipe to any modular food in her menu memorized. practiced only in the way that she’s been flying by touch for as long as she can remember, and can make up anything she does. a ‘beginner’s luck’ trained for years off tangle’s own variability.

a compliment,

like the sky when sunset reds start to rise from the horizon, bleeding into blue; backlit clouds shadowy and dark but for a glimmer of gold at the edges; counterweights to each other working in tandem to keep balance

~

[heartofsnark]

Can You Feel The Sun? (Chapter Two): Here In Night City

Notes: This one has been done for a while, I’ve been pretty busy and overwhelmed with school for a while, but I’ve been having some fun silverv shenanigans on my personal account and I figured it was time to post it. I’m not sure how I feel about it? It went through some heavy edits, so there might be some typos and issues with that, and writing a montage...is new territory for me...

Word Count: 14799

Chapter Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Casual Discussion of Suicide (its fairly common in Night City according to lore), Talks of Sex but nothing explicit

If you haven’t yet, you can read the first chapter here. 

V fiddles with the frayed edges of her hoodie, following behind Jackie. The night air chills her skin as they walk. It's not far from the bar where he stops a building, among the shorter cluster of buildings in Heywood, in no way stretching up into the heaven like many of the buildings in Night City. Jackie has no hesitation, taking the steps two at a time and swinging the front door open. She moves to take her mask off, not wanting to risk creeping his mom out, though her bruises and blood matted hair won’t do her any favors. 

“Ma! I brought a friend home!” He yells out, like they’re kids asking to have a sleepover and V finds herself smiling. V bounces slightly on the balls of her feet, looking around the living room, the little collections of knick knacks, little calavera skulls. The couch covered in blankets and the warm little cozy touches within the home. 

“Jaquito!” A woman’s accented voice rings out, Jackie’s mom coming into the living room, “where the hell have you been!? I’ve been worried sick!” 

Jackie’s mom is a woman somewhere in her fifties, if V had to wager a guess, with gray hair that falls down past her shoulders and blue eyes. There’s a softness to her as she looks at her son, something inherently maternal to her gaze. There’s wrinkled lines of worry around her eyes. 

“Ay, I told you Mama, it was just biz. Nothing to worry about,” Jackie waves off his mother’s concerns.

“And your friend?” The older woman’s eyes land on her, she looks down finding a spot on the floor to focus on. 

“Ma, this is V.” 

Jackie turns to introduce her and V starts to look up, then his green eyes widen for a moment. It’s the first time he’s seen her without the mask, she’s realized, and she finds herself hyperaware of her features, worrying about how they’re being viewed. Her hands fidget and nerves flush her face. She’s not even this anxious when a hookup sees her face for the first time. The idea of a potential bedmate rejecting her is nothing compared to this visceral fear that her new friend and his mother not approving of her . 

“Hi,” she signs, slightly stilted in her movements, feeling as if she might combust. 

Her already awkward gestures completely freeze when she feels Senora Welles cups her cheek, fingers rubbing over the purple bruises on V’s skin. The touch is kind and warm, stirring up memories of V’s own mother. Memories of being a child returning to camp after hours of scavenging through a landfill or exploring the new land just for her mother to come look over her for every bruise or mark she may have collected. 

“My Jackie drag you into one of his messes?” Senora Welles asks before V can go further down the slippery nostalgia slope. Fingers brush across the blood in the back of V’s hair, the worry etching the older woman’s expression only grows. The intensity makes the former nomad look at the ground, unable to maintain eye contact. 

“It was a client, mama,” Jackie answers for V, “First night in NC spent bleeding out in a dumpster, second will be spent on the street unle-”

“Say no more. I’ll get you some clean clothes, you can use our shower, and we’ll get some food in your belly, alright?” 

“Alright, thank you, so much,” V signs as Senora Welles pulls away. She doesn’t know what she did to deserve their kindness, but she’s thankful for it, nonetheless. 

She’s given a black t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants once Senora Welles has shown her to the bathroom. It’s modest with a tile floor, stickers on the mirror and sugar skulls beside it. V catches sight of herself in the mirror and blinks at what’s looking back at her, she understands Jackie and his mother’s reaction now. While she suspected and felt what she may look like. But her reflection staring back at her confirms it. Purples, blues, and greens scatter across her face like galaxies over her skin. Her eyeliner has smeared and smudged around her eyes. Her hair is in tangles, darkening red flecks of blood staining the bleached blonde and  dark brown of her roots where it sticks to her scalp the ponytail she tied it back in is now knots. She needs a cut and a touch up. But bleach may have to wait, when she tries to brush it out, it hurts, pulling at the not quite healed wound on her scalp and bringing fresh blood to the surface. She does the best she can for now before deciding it’s enough.  

V  triple checks the lock on the door, not out of distrust for the Welles, but her own paranoia and habit. Then she strips out of her clothes and takes out her hearing aids, stashing them in the medicine cabinet in hopes of protecting them from steam. She rubs at the reddened skin of her ears. She knows they’re necessary, but they chap and rub her ears raw after too long. There’s cream she has for it, that’s in her duffle bag, that was in her Rattler. She pouts at the realization before she turns on the hot water, stepping under it’s spray. 

The hot water is a welcomed relief to her aching muscles, as she washes away the grime, she starts to feel human again. She scrubs the blood and mess from her hair, careful of her still tender scalp as she washes away the mess that was her first day in Night City. 

V dries off and slots her hearing aids back in, they seem to still be dry. She throws on the clothes she was given. The shirt hangs off her shoulders and the hem hits at her knees, she gets the idea the shirt may be Jackie’s. She’s less sure of the sweatpants, they do sag on her hips and the legs go well over her feet, but with enough tightening of the drawstring they manage to stay up. Baggy, soft, and warm. If not for the still steady pain in her temples and the cramping of her empty belly, she could curl up to sleep. Her hair is still in absolute knots, so she ops for putting it up in a bun to save for a time in which she can handle combing through it. Then finally she leaves the bathroom, peeking around the corner. 

“Chica, in here!” Jackie’s voice booms and calls her into the kitchen. 

She pads her way in there, Senora Welles and Jackie are gathered around a table in the kitchen. He’s thrown off his jacket, showing the muscle shirt he wore beneath it. And despite having seen him all night, she truly feels like she’s seeing him fully now in the cozy lighting of the kitchen. Freckled skin, biceps the size of her head, a black and red tattoo on his wrist and forearm that’s cut off by a gold bracelet. The light catches off the cyberware across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. He grins widely as his mother fills a bowl with chili, the grown man shoveling it in his mouth without waiting for it to cool, like an overexcited child. 

“Over here, mija, take a seat and a bowl,” Senora Welles beckons her over. 

V climbs up into a seat, awkwardly tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear. Senora Welles fills a bowl to the top with chilli for her; the smell of the tomato, synth beef, and veggies making her stomach growl. She’s torn between gratefulness and feeling a bit like a mangy dog Jackie dragged in. It’s fine line between kindness and pity, she can only hope it’s the former rather than the latter. 

“Thank you, so much.”

The second she’s done signing another thanks, she’s shoving chili into her mouth and its so good. Perfectly cooked and with a hint of spice. She nearly inhales the rest of her bowl, barely coming up for air as she gobbles it up. A second bowl goes by just as quickly, she’s pretty sure Jackie’s on her third by the time she grabs the second. She’s slowing down by her third, her stomach not quite bursting, and she’s willing to push it just to keep eating.  

“Aye, you’re as bad as Jaquito,” Senora Welles teases, smiling as she calmly eats her own food. 

“Sorry, its just really good…” V signs with one hand, still eating with her other. 

“Told you my ma made the best chili.” 

“Hey, what did I say about talking with your mouth full, Jackie!” His mother scolds him. 

“V did it first.” 

“I don’t talk!” 

“See, she did it again!” Jackie teases when she signs again. V swallows her mouthful of chili and sticks her tongue out at Jackie. The joking around has eased some of the tension for V, Jackie still treating her like a new friend and not some sad sack he’s trying to help. 

“So, V,” Senora Welles says after a few moments, “where are you from?” 

“All of the everywhere, I think I was born in North Carolina? Maybe?” 

“You’re a nomad?” 

V chews her lip, the media talk about nomads is far from good, usually painted as asshole outlaws. Corps don’t like them. Corps own the media. So they make sure the media tells everyone that nomads are the violent assholes who refuse to fall in line, refused to sell their land, and then ran away to ruin everyone’s life when they lost the battle. Not that it stops them from lining a nomad’s pocket when they need work done. Which, granted, her own nomad family are…violent assholes and criminals, but that doesn’t mean they all are. And she doesn’t want to be painted with that same brush. And there are good solid nomad families out there, she’s met more than a few in Bakkers, Aldecaldos, and Red Ochre Clan; to name just a handful. 

“Formerly, yeah, was hoping to make a new life here.” 

“Your nomad family ain’t waiting for you?”  

“Uh, no, just…no.”  

Tears prick at the back of V’s eyes, threatening to shed as she thinks of her mom, put down in a med tent. The first time her father held a captive bolt pistol to the base of her skull, ready to kill her for her newfound disability. The way everything seemed to change when she lost her hearing. Her sister hunting her down like a dog, not caring who she has to shake down, what she has to burn to the ground; just to kill her on the order of their father. She bites down harshly on her lower lip, she doesn’t want to think about it. 

Then there’s an arm wrapping around her shoulders, Senora Welles having stood up at some point, and now gently tucking V’s head under her chin. A gentle one-armed hug, not tight or all-encompassing but warm and kind, without pushing her. 

“No worries, mija,” the older woman speaks against V’s skin, “you can stay here as long as you need.”  

“Thank you, that means a lot,” V’s not sure if at the angle, Senora Welles eyes can translate her signing, but she squeezes the older woman’s hand, hoping it can be communicated through touch if nothing else.  Appreciative as she is, there’s a small pit in her stomach, she’s already becoming a burden to someone new. 

A moment passes and then Senora Welles gives a soft kiss to the top of her head before taking away the dirty dishes. V starts to gather it as well, she’s eating their food and staying in their house, the least she can do. If she’s going to impose for any length of time, she needs to make herself worthwhile to have around, to some degree. 

“No, no, no, V. You’re a guest, go on and get settled in,” Senora Welles stops her before she can help any further. 

“Uh-“ 

“C’mon, jaina,” Jackie gives a quick pat to her shoulder, “I’ll show you where you can sleep tonight.” 

She gets up from her seat, feet padding up the stairs after Jackie. He barely fits between the banisters, his wide muscular frame completely blocking her view as they move through the house. He takes her up to a bedroom, its not particularly big, and she can’t help but think he’s had it since he was a child. There’s fitness posters on the wall, weights that she imagines Jackie could juggle if he wanted, a vanity with a rosary, but it’s what stacked on top of one of the desks that catches her eye. 

Two desks are flush against one of the walls, one with a large aquarium balanced on it. Vivid blue and white fluorescent lights illuminating the water.  Only one fish swims through it, gray with a fin, like a mini shark. V can’t help the noise of excitement she makes as she bounces on the balls of her feet over to the tank, sitting in the chair at the desk. She wants a better look at this beautiful baby. 

“V, meet Taco,” Jackie introduces her to the dwarf shark. 

“I’d die for him,” she signs, with zero hesitation. 

“I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Heh,” she giggles at his response, “must have cost you an arm and a leg.” 

“Think I bought him?” 

V’s nose wrinkles as she laughs, hands forming words, “forbidden shark.” 

V taps against the aquarium glass, getting Taco’s attention, she drags her finger back and forth across the glass watching the large fish chase her finger. Taco twirls and twists, trying to nibble at her finger through the glass. 

“So, what happens tomorrow?” Jackie asks, bed creaking under his weight. 

She turns in the chair, resting her arms and chin across the back of it as she shifts to face him. Jackie has sat down on the bed tucked into a cubby against a wall. Can he even fit on that bed? She’s still not even sure who’s sleeping where tonight, she has no intention of stealing the man’s bed, if anything she wishes you could buy him a bigger one to more comfortably fit him. 

“Tomorrow? Gonna get my shit back, hopefully turn a quick profit off the cargo, and get myself a place. I don’t plan on  making a nuisance out of myself, I promise.” 

She’s thankful for the hospitality and as much as she maybe shouldn’t, she’ll take advantage for the night. But, she has no intention of leeching off of their kindness. They may be opening their door to her, but no one wants a mooch. She’s an adult and needs to take care of herself. 

“Pfft, you ain’t no fucking nuisance, my ma’s probably just happy to have someone who’ll help with the dishes.” 

“I don’t wan-“ she shifts gears mid-sentence, “you don’t help your mom with the dishes?” 

“Eh, ya know,” he makes a vague wiggly hand gesture and scrunches his face up “it’s gross…” He shrugs. 

“Of course it’s gross, you dummy! She cooks for you for god’s sake, the least you can do is help clean up!” 

“I’m busy, okay!” 

“Unbelievable.”

“Look,” he laughs, “ that, this was not the point, Chica. So, before you climb up my ass again… Lemme ask,  what about the day after tomorrow? Day after that… you ice Sinclaire and then what? ” 

“Hmmm,” she hums, tapping her fingers against the chair before signing, “I hate to disappoint but I haven’t come up with any grand plan since the last time you asked. ’

“Figured as much, you ever do any merc work before this?” 

“Little things, smuggling jobs here and there, stayed out of cities so pickings were slim. You been doing it long?” 

“Most of my life; work for yourself, live for yourself. Only way there is, if you ask me.” 

“Probably be the easiest way to make eddies after I square away this cargo thing,” she admits, she never really put it into thoughts, but she always sort of assumed that’s where she’d end up once she landed in the city. The only other alternative would be some entry level job waiting tables or something and that might even be a pipe dream if they expect her to have cyberware or something resembling a formal education. 

“Already got a fixer who likes you,” Jackie tells her, “and not to brag, but with me as your partner you’ll be getting preem jobs right out the gate.” 

“Oh, so we’re partners now?” 

“Don’t see why not, already know we work well together, I could use an extra pair of hands and you could use really any help you can get, and… ” he pauses for a moment, finding his words, “I just got a good feeling about this, ‘bout us.” 

“A feeling?” 

“Yeah, that the two of us could make to the top.”

She’s trying not to laugh as she sees excitement fill his eyes, like a child on Christmas. It’s not as if merc work is new territory to her, she’s taken odd jobs in the Badlands. But, it is sparser than in the city and mostly smuggling. She can’t exactly proclaim it’s her dream job or what she wants to do forever, but she can’t think of a damn thing else she’d like to do. Death has been nipping at her heels since she was nine years old, she hasn’t thought far ahead, hasn’t felt she had any right to. 

And, she can’t really say she gives a fuck about making it to the top. Riches, fame, notoriety, being a legend. She couldn’t care less. She just wants to be in control of her own life, to feel like she has no restraints, and to build a life that has meaning to her. To be the person she wants to be, even though she isn’t quite sure who that is yet… She’s twenty, twenty-one this year, and she never even thought she’d get that far.  Its hard to really expect her to know exactly who she is or what she wants.  

But… could she really even get that far? Jackie seems convinced, but could she be capable of that? Is she strong enough? Competent enough?  

“I’m talking the major leagues, V. The top of the top, the mercs who get the best jobs, are swimming in eddies; Night City legends.” 

“That what you want?” 

“More than anything. Raised in shit, told I’d never climb out, but I’m gonna prove ‘em wrong. Don’t you want to? Show every son of a bitch who put you down, looked down their nose at you, that they didn’t know shit?”

Her father and his words come flooding to her mind; told she’s weak, worthless, defective, not worth the lead to blow her brains out. And yeah, she’d love to prove him wrong. To be strong and show she’s capable. To know she can take care of herself, that she doesn’t need anyone else to be okay. She’d love to prove to the people who told her she needed to get her hearing “fixed”, that she’s not fucking broken. Even now, people like Sinclaire take one look at her and see her as gutter trash.  She wants respect, the security that comes with it, not notoriety. Proving her strength, her capability, her worth by taking any job that comes her way is more than a little enticing, it’d earn her that respect both from others. 

But more importantly, she’d like to prove that to herself. To know in her heart she really isn’t any of those things. That she isn’t a burden. To prove to herself that she’s capable of more than being a burden, more than meandering along to her father’s orders. For once she’d like for others not to look at her like cockroach and more importantly to be able to look at herself and see more than a waste of space. To finally feel right in her own skin, take that voice of doubt that keeps asking her if she’s enough, and crush it. 

She could give a fuck less who knows her name, hell she prefers no one ever does. Its not the notoriety or fame. V greatly prefers being unknowable, between the mask and alias she’s a few blurry photos away from going full cryptid. And she likes that. If she keeps the mask on for business, keep work and personal separate with it, she could keep her privacy. Keep skeletons in her closet from coming back to bite her...

For so long she was told she was weak by The Herd. Weak for her disability. Weak for accepting her mother’s protection. 

An outcasts among outcasts, thats what the sheriff said, and he didn’t know the half of it. Nomads the outcasts of regular society, raffen shiv the outcasts of the nomads, and her an outcast among the raffen shiv. An outcast from the outcasts of the outcasts. So unwanted by the world and even her own fucking body. There has never in twenty years been a place for her in this world. But maybe she’s finally found it, working her ass off with Jackie and showing Night City just what she can do. 

“Lets do it,” she decides, she wants this, not to be famous or major leagues but to be untouchable, to prove a point, to take control of her life, to be more than anyone thought she could be, and to like what she sees when she looks in the mirror.  

“Fuck yeah,” he shifts to face her fully, catching her hand in shake, his large fingers blanketing her smaller ones, “this is the start of a beautiful thing, I just know it.” 

That night, Jackie sleeps on the couch in the living room, despite V’s constant insistence that she’ doesn’t want to take over his bed; his stubbornness wins out. And as he leaves to the living room she’s left with the weight of loneliness, of trying to sleep without the warmth of another beside her. It’s a dumb issue to have, keeping the world at arm’s length and keeping her walls up at all times, but needing a hug to sleep. Years of safety in numbers being beat into her head, sleeping alone feels like baring her throat for the wolves and expecting herself to find peace. 

As odd, creepy, weird as  it may be V takes advantage of the benefit that sleeping in Jackie’s clothes and bed has for her. Burying her nose in the pillows and blankets that smell like him, smell like another person, trying to convince her senses she’s not alone. Letting the smell of cheap cologne and some oil she can’t quite place soothe her. It used to be a band tee she stole from Ava, before…everything, though the scent has steadily faded over time, its still a source of comfort. And it was in her bag…in her car. Who knows if she’ll find it again… 

Then there’s her pictures and the old polaroid camera she fixed up to take them. A little treasure she found rummages through a landfill out towards Oregon. Photos of her sister, her mother, and Ava; of her life before she had to run. Back when she still thought that a family that doesn’t want you was worth having… Pictures from her time on the road; her and Sabrina, the sweet group of Bakkers who sold her the Rattler, and just any place, sight, or person that managed to make her day or make a few days. Loneliness colored a lot of that time, but she made her memories, people she’s sure forgot her when she left but whom she’ll never forget. 

Her mom’s guitar… the one thing she went back for the night she left, doubling back and breaking into her father’s tent for it when she realized she had left. Stepping into the lion’s den just to have it, she can’t play, she gave up on learning when her hearing went. But those early memories of sitting in her mother’s lap at camp with the guitar in her hands, small fingers callusing as they plucked at the strings…. 

And all of those could be gone. Every memory and memento could be gone for good because of one asshole. She digs her nails into her scalp and knots her hair, anger and anxiety pitting in her stomach, bleeding into each other. 

She burrows into the blankets and pillows, trying to prevent her thoughts from wandering, though it’s fighting an uphill battle, trying to think of the name of every star she knows in alphabetical order if only to bore her brain into sleep rather than letting it race in circles. She’s somewhere between Meissa and Merga when she finally falls asleep. 

And she awakes in the dead of night; chest tight and lungs struggling to get a deep breath of air. No nightmare this time, but a sense of panic and dread pumping adrenaline into her blood, making her heart race as she jumps out of Jackie’s bed.  She checks the door, she locked it before she went to bed, she needs doors locked. And she knows she did, but she needs to check it. She locks and unlocks it, no windows to check, so her focus is only on the door. And she does that until the tightness in her chest ease, until she can breathe a little easier, locking it for the last time before walking away from the door. Security, safety, a paranoia that tells her to never feel safe. That the world has always wanted her gone and one day death will knock at her door for the last time. 

Her body feels heavy as she wanders to Taco’s tank, the shark swimming in circles, V’s face bathed in the blue light from it. There’s still a shake in her hands, but her limbs are leaden as she sits down at the desk. She watches him swim and swish around for a few moments, sprinkling some of his food into the tank to watch him eat. 

“Really wish I could hold you, right now.”  

She speaks it out loud, softly to the swimming shark, needing to put her thoughts into the world but hands too shaky to sign worth a damn. Though they still ache and twitch to do so.  After a few more moments of watching the mini shark swim, she crawls back into bed to sleep for the rest of the night. Thankful, that she doesn’t wake until morning. 

The newly appointed merc is dragging when she wakes,  as always due to her lackluster sleeping patterns. To make matters worse, her eyes are red and itchy, sensitive even in the light of the house. A flare up, autoimmune disease coming back to kick her ass for stressing and not sleeping. Her joints ache, swollen, as she groggily stumbles her way from Jackie’s bedroom, when a sweet smell hits her nose, stomach growling. She

Senora Welles and Jackie are at the table, she made breakfast of course, because she’s entirely too nice. On the table is a spread of french toast with cinnamon whip cream on top. Jackie already has a stack nearly as tall as V on his plate, half eaten. 

Jackie yells out something, his mouth full, and she realizes the world is still quiet as his mother scolds him. Her eyes are too irritated and her mind too groggy for her to be able to competently read lips. She holds up a finger, asking them to wait a moment, and doubles back to Jackie’s bedroom. She grabs her hearing aids and contemplates grabbing her mask, just so it can translate for her.

Optic translations are pretty advanced for sign language, but they have limitations. Like people needing to look at the signer the entire time and name signs being essentially untranslatable since they’re personal to the signer. But she wants to eat and having to hold up her mask everytime she wants to talk is a pain. She turns on her hearing aids and leaves the mask behind, hopefully Jackie and Senora Welles will look at her if she has to say anything or she’ll just stay silent as she stuffs her face. Jackie raises an eyebrow at her when she comes back to the kitchen. 

“Forgot my ears,” she signs, tapping her hearing aid, and flinching when it gives a bit of feedback in reaction. 

“Ahh, well come sit your ass down, ma made tres leche french toast.” 

“Thank you,” she signs to Senora Welles who gives her a soft smile. 

“Something up with your optics, jaina? Looking red.”

“I don’t have optic implants,” she signs before pouring herself a cup of coffee. 

“Really? Guess that’d be why you don’t got lipreading tech and explain why they look like you rubbed peppers in them.”

“That’s just a flare up.”

“Flare up?” Senora Welles asks, concern darkening her expression. 

“Autoimmune disease, some days my body hates me more than others.” 

“That what happen to your…?” Jackie taps his ear, rather than say it outright. 

She nods, it attacked the inner ear most aggressively, completely destroying her hearing by nine. According to the clan doctor, all the times she complained about her ears hurting, dizziness, and ringing in her ears it’s because her immune system was aggressively attacking them. But, she was only ever told to walk it off, until inevitably the world went silent. It still flares up, deciding it doesn’t like the rest of her either. Her eyes are what worry her the most but what can she really do. 

“There ain’t anything that can help with that.” 

“Uh, heard medications can, but haven’t been to a doc since I was sixteen and I ain’t looking to break my streak,” she signs, unable to help the way she scrunches her nose. 

She hates doctors.  Her last experience with the clan doctor ensured she never wanted to deal with another, not to mention how many times she’s been told to pop by a ripper and just “fix” her hearing. 

“Hmm, you got any chrome, V?” 

“Nope.” she signs. 

“Seriously, nothing?” 

“Not even a personal link.” She shows the palms of her hands and wrists, thankful the sleeves of the sweatshirt lent to her cover the brand on her wrist.  

“Hate to break it to you, V, but you're gonna need some chrome. Personal link, neural port, bare fuckin’ minimum if you wanna get by in Night City.” 

She doesn’t answer, just pouting as she pours sugar and milk into her coffee, until there’s barely a hint of brown coloring. She isn’t against cyberware inherently and everyone’s choice is their own, but whether it’s the years of being told they’re cheap tools to make the weak feel strong or just her own discomfort with everything it entails, the whole thing makes her skin crawl. V already hates doctors and would rather dose up on bounce backs if she has to. She can stitch her own wounds, has before, whatever it takes to avoid them. 

Add in the fact most cyberware is made and licensed by corps, no. Sure, black alley shit exists, but just the idea of a corp having the right to her eyes. What if they revoke someone’s usage of them, spy through them, confiscate them?

“Once your two finish your business, take her to Viktor,” Senora Welles tells Jackie, before turning to look at V, “he’s a good man, I’d trust to take care of anyone, mija. I’m sure he can help with whatever you need.” 

“Okay, if he has your seal of approval, suppose I gotta at least see him.” V concedes, Senora Welles seems convinced this guy is good. Even if V decides to just try to go without, everything, it can’t hurt just to meet the guy. 

“Vik’s one of my closest friends, he’ll take care of you, promise. Though, uh, keep taking your coffee like that, he might have his work cut out for him.” 

“I like sweets,” she signs, shrugging before taking a drink of her coffee and another big bite of french toast. They’re incredible, cinnamon whip cream sticking to her lips. 

“You might as well inhale sugar.” 

“Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t.” 

They finish up the breakfast, V stuffed with a good three or more stacks of french toast. Senora Welles begins to collect the dishes. And no, V’s not letting this happen again. 

“We’ll do dishes,” she signs, starting to collect the plates. 

“We?” 

“No, no, you don’t have to, dear.” 

“I insist please, you cooked, it’s only right for us to clean up afterwards,” she signs with one hand then looks to Jackie, “right?” 

“Right…  we’ll take care of it ma.” 

“Thank you, Mija,” Senora Welles squeezes her shoulder, “I washed your clothes last night, I’ll leave them in the bathroom, once you two finish with the dishes you can wash up and get changed.” 

“Thank you,” V signs again before taking the dishes to the sink with Jackie. 

“One night here and you’re already the favorite, Jesucristo.” 

V can’t resist giggling at the comment, smile on her face. They don’t talk much as they wash dishes, mostly because she can’t sign and clean at the same time. It doesn’t take long before they’ve finished up. V going to shower and change, then they’ll head to the chop shop Padre mentioned. Then it’s time to end Sinclaire. 

“You ready to go, V?” Jackie asks when she comes back changed, mask with her for when she’ll need it. 

“Let’s get this show on the road.” 

“Me and V are headed out, Ma! Be back in time for dinner, promise!” 

The pair leave the house and make their way down the steps. The streets are jam packed with people and she’s still not used to the crowd, cringing as she has to weave through them. Jackie doesn’t have a car and her’s is indisposed wherever it is. She nearly trips over a bag of trash trying to keep up with her new partner. Why is the city so dirty? V never even let the camp site get this filthy and these city people just toss their trash out on the street?

“C’mon, we’ll take the train down to the chop shop, see if they got your car first,” Jackie’s voice cuts her off because she can start trying to clean the street. 

“I still don’t have any-”

“I’ll pay for us both.” 

“Sorry and thanks” 

“How many times have you said sorry or thanks since we met?” Jackie asks. 

“I wasn’t counting.” 

The station is already crowded and she’s cringing at the sight of two many fucking people. They fall in line, jacking in personal links, eyes glowing as they pay the fee then wait for the train. Mothers holding their children’s hands, homeless people with signs at the sides of the station, begging for eddies. 

“Too many times,” he says jacking in his personal link, eyes lighting up as he pays for both of their rides, “this is what friends and family are for, chica.” 

“To pay my way in the world?” She asks as they step into the crowded subway train. 

The crowd is forced to part around Jackie, everyone offering his broad frame more space, as his sheer size demands it. No one moves for V, she has to step and weave around people who easily crowd around her small figure without a second thought. Is it just the size difference? Or something more? 

She curls in on herself, shrinking as she maneuvers through people. Too many voices, layering together into cacophony. She can feel the warmth of everyone’s body, the stench of body odor and contrasting perfumes or colognes. She needs her own car, for sure, this is agony. She can’t do this daily. 

“To have your back, mija. Besides, acting like world’s doing you a favor by letting you exist, a good way to get your neck stepped on.” 

“But, you and your ma are doing me a favor. You gonna step on my neck for thanking you?” 

They’ve come to a stop, Jackie finding a empty pole on the subway train to hold onto. She looks up at him, waiting for his answer, blinking expectantly. He’s not seriously suggesting she not be grateful, is he? She’s no stranger to faking confidence or having an attitude, she’s not exactly a goodie two shoes. But she’s not about to be rude to people who don’t invite the behavior. Usually. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” 

“Look at you like what?” She asks, migraine forming as she’s surrounded by noise. 

“With those puppy eyes.” 

“Those are just my eyes, Jackie.” 

“Well, stop it.” 

“Fine,” she decides, kill two birds, one stone, “I’m gonna put my mask on and turn off my hearing aids for a bit.” 

“Why?” 

“Too much,” she signs and gesture vaguely to the entire subway. 

“Ah, not used to the city noise are ya?” He asks just before she turns off her hearing aids, sliding her mask in place. She breathes a sigh of relief, silence, glorious silence. 

“Its...a lot, but in general, world has either been silent or at least had a mute button since I was nine. First time I got my hearing aids, I broke down in tears, felt like the world was screaming at me and that was in the middle of nowhere. I’ve gotten use to them and its not even necessarly the volume, its just that its not cohesive if that makes sense. Not that any sound is too loud, just there’s too many of them.” 

“I think, I get ya, if it’s one thing drowning out everything else it’s fine. But, when you got twenty different things going on, it feels like your brain is going in every direction?” 

“Kinda? It’s just too much, like the world on low volume.” 

“Eh, have a feel you’re gonna be hitting mute on Night City a lot.” 

“Yeah, I kinda figure.” 

“Hmmm, probably should figure out a better fix than the mask too, can’t wear it all the time.” 

“I mean,” she shrugs, “ideally everyone in the world would just learn sign language to accommodate me.” 

“Yeah?” He laughs, apparently catching the joke, “Night City ain’t one for accomadating.” 

“A person can dream.” 

“Tell you what though, chica, teach me sign language, I’ll teach you, Spanish.” 

“You got it, and once you know ASL and I know Spanish, we can learn Spanish Sign Language, or if you prefer Mexican Sign Language. Or both.” 

“How many different kinds of sign language are there again?” 

“Not sure, but I probably can’t count that high. I mean there’s several variations even in just signing in English.”

“Oh…” 

“You have ASL which is the most common, you have Signed Exact English which has a lot more fingerspellng. You have Conceptually Accurate Signed English, also sometimes called Pidgin Sign Language which essentially uses ASL signs but follows word order and grammar rules from English. And-”

“I’m regretting this already.” 

“Then there’s different dialects used within different parts of the deaf community, like-”

“Well, lookie there, it’s our stop,” Jackie cuts her off when the subway train comes to a stop and she’s smiling behind her mask, watching the way the gears in his head turn trying to keep up with this information. 

V stays close to his back as he leaves the crowded train, taking advantage of the space the crowd gives him to give herself some space. The chop shop is just a short walk from the station and despite struggling to keep up with Jackie’s longer strides, they reach it without much issue. V making sure to turn her hearing aids back on before she enters the store.

“Can I help you?” A worker grumbles when the pair walk through the door. 

“I’m looking for a Galena Rattler, nomad vehicle, red. Someone brought it in here.” 

The worker scratches at the cybernetics etching his face, searching his memory for a moment before he finally speaks up. 

“Had something like that come in a day or two ago, had a dog bobblehead on the dash?’ 

“That’s the one.” 

“Bucket of rust was sent to the landfill as soon as it got here, probably scrapped by now.” 

Her heart sinks into her chest, her first car, her fucking home for the past four or so years; gone. All because some asshole had to fuck her over. She wants to scream, cry a little bit, kick something. 

“Sorry, kid, uh, I can get you the stuff we got out of it. About all I can offer you.” 

“Okay…” 

She nudges the floor with the toe of her boot, fingers fiddling with the hem of her shirt as she waits. It isn’t long until the worker emerges from the back room with her dufflebag, the guitar case, and her dog bobblehead. V checks through, all weapons and first aid shit gone. But her holophone,  her clothes, the clunky old little computer, her photos, and her mother’s guitar are all still there. Basically anything they couldn’t feasibly make a profit off of is still there. Photos mean nothing, a crappy landfill camera worthless, beat up acoustic guitar, and tech that dates back a good couple years don’t amount to much when you want cash. At least being generations behind everyone else has done her some good. Even if she still lost her car. 

Most of her mementos were saved, but a pit still forms in her stomach at losing her car, essentially her closest thing to home since she left The Herd. 

“C’mere, chica.”

 Jackie wraps his arms around her smaller frame, large arms encompassing her, threatening to crush the air from her lungs. Unlike the one-armed hug from his mother, this is overwhelmingly affectionate, surrounded by his warmth. She tries to think back the last time she was hugged like this, probably by her own mother, when she was fifteen? V freezes in his grasp, arms awkwardly hanging at her sides before she brings them up to lightly pat at his back. Not quite able to commit herself to hugging him back fully. 

“…” 

“Aye, Santa Madre. Is that how you hug, V?” 

She shrugs within his hold, unable to sign while being pulled so close to him.  He pulls away, leaving only a hand on her shoulder. 

“What’s wrong with how I hug?” 

“Everything, don’t worry though, we’ll work on it,” he tells her. 

“You’re weird.” 

“So,” Jackie switches gears, “Sinclaire, you got a plan yet?” 

“Sinclaire lives in the penthouse of a megabuilding. Intel says he should be there today, taking a day off tricking nomads I guess. Need to get in, figure out where the cargo is, and gut Sinclaire.”

“Got a netrunner who owes me a favor, she might be able to get in the subnet for the building, trip the cameras and get us in.” 

“Seriously, you wanna waste that favor on me?” 

“Eh, T-Bug will help me out again, even if she says otherwise.” 

Jackie rolls his eyes and pulls out his holophone, his optics lighting up bright blue as he dials a number, like many folks he has his phone hooked up to his eyes. . 

“Hey, Bug, calling in my favor.” 

V can’t hear the other side of the conversation, shaking her bobblehead as she waits patiently. Bobble bobble, the dog’s head bounces up and down. 

“We’re trying to get into Megabuilding 12, huh…oh I got myself a new partner, she’s cool, don’t worry. Just need you to hack the subnet, get us access, kill the cameras. Can you do that for me?” 

A smirk comes across Jackie’s face and he rolls his eyes, before looking to V, “Bug says she wants to be patched through to you, ain’t helping someone she don’t know. “ 

“That’s fine,” she signs, “I can sync my holophone to my mask just like optics.” 

Her mask will display the person just like optic tech can, she has it set so her avatar displays instead of her face so all they’ll see is a picture of the same expression on her mask, and they’ll hear the AI voice as she signs.  Jackie taps at his phone as he sends the call to V’s phone as well. Her mask lights up to let her know of the incoming call and she taps accept on her phone, a little video square shows up in the corner of her vision. 

T-bug is older than V, most folks are, with dark hair shaved down nearly to her scalp and dark makeup surrounding her big brown eyes. A skin tight black net runner suit clings to what’s visible of her body. 

“Hello,” V signs, letting the AI voice resonate through the connection. 

“No face, no voice; the hell are you dragging me into Jackie?” 

“Stop worrying Bug, V is good people, she just needs to get back at a client who fucked her over. You said you owed me one.” 

“Fine, but this goes sideways and I’m frying you both.” 

“Not sure you can fry V, but alright. Let’s get our asses moving.” 

They opt to walk to the megabuilding, not to leave any trace of traveling out there. It’s not far out and before too long they’re standing before the stairs up to the towering building. Megabuildings are impressive to say the least, giant ecosystems in their own right, rows of rows of the same apartments until you hit the top floors and lower floors dedicated to shops. V tucks her bobblehead into her dufflebag and puts her bag down in a corner by the stairs along with the guitar case, preferring to travel lightly as they axe Sinclaire, she doesn’t need to worry about bashing a guitar into a wall while she’s taking him down. 

“You play?” Jackie asks her after a beat of silence, eyes on the guitar case. 

“No.” Her answer is flat, monotone through the translator, and she offers no other explanation. 

“…talking to you is really gonna be like pulling teeth, ain’t it?” 

“You asked a question, I answered.” 

“Nah, nah, it’s okay, I spill my soul, let you in my home, my family, my bed; and you give me half assed hugs and one word answers, I get it, chica.”

“There’s nothing to get!” 

 “No worries, I got time, I’ll know you better than you know yourself, before you…well, know it,” his grin drops as he realized he said ‘know’ entirely too many times in that sentence

“Didn’t think that sentence through, did ya?” 

“Shaddup, let’s get this asshole.” 

T-bug’s avatar and quick flashes of technological info flashes at a camera as they enter the megabuilding. The imagery showing through to Jackie and V while none of the hundred or so residents buzzing around are any the wiser to what’s about to go down. 

“I’m in the subnet, I can see you on cams and cut off the feed to security. Getting you penthouse access now.” 

“Efficient as fuck,” V can’t help but sign, forever amazed at netrunners in general, let alone just how quickly T-bug has managed to take care of this. 

“Don’t work any other way, besides Megabuildings have shoddy security at best, this is nothing.” 

“Honestly, you could hack a toaster and I’d be impressed, this stuff is way beyond my comprehension,” V admits as her and Jackie reach the elevator, T-bug’s avatar just flashing before it opens for them. 

“Your mask can work for scanning, get a cyberdeck and I could send you some quickhacks and daemons; set you up with the basics.” 

“I’ll have to keep that in mind, never hurts to learn.” Even if she’s fairly convinced she’s too stupid to figure it out.  

“So, V’s managed to win you over already?” Jackie comments, grinning. 

“More like I’m trying to make sure you don’t call me over petty shit again,” T-bug insists, though there’s no real malice to her voice. 

V leans against the elevator wall as it lurches into movement, screens playing the news around them.  She smiles behind her mask as Jackie grins, winking before he responds to T-bug. 

“You say that but you and I both know you like being part of the team, Bug.” 

“Oh, brother,” T-bug says with a roll of her eyes and V can’t help but crack up, she can’t really imagine the two being fast friends; a loud energetic solo and a stoic netrunner. It makes her wonder how exactly they met or what favor T-bug might owe Jackie. 

“On your toes,” T-bug speaks up as the elevator comes to a stop, “two guards outside the penthouse door, I’ll run a quick hack to distract them.” 

“Get their backs to us and we’ll drop ‘em quiet, T.” 

The elevator door opens and there’s a clanging mechanical sound that rings out on the top floor halls. Jackie and V stay low as they leave the elevator; turning a corner to see two of Sinclaire’s guards. They’re looking over a vending machine that’s began to spew energy drinks out on the floor. She suddenly wishes she brought her duffle bag up with her, if only to take advantage and stockpile some drinks. 

They creep up behind them, V points at the guard at the left then herself, making it clear she’ll take him and Jackie nods. She gets behind her mark and lurches forward, snapping his neck with a crunch, feeling him go limp under her touch. From her peripheral she watches as Jackie crushes his target’s windpipe with one heavy press of his forearm. Two guards in a pile they stand up straight and make a beeline to the penthouse door. Jackie takes out his pistol, making sure its loaded, while V gets her own gun out, the one she stole from the 6th Street fuck. 

“You get a peek inside the penthouse, Bug?” 

“No more muscle inside, Sinclaire is in his office, its second door on the left going past the living room.” 

“’Preciate it, T-bug.” V signs as the penthouse door slides open. Jackie and her have weapons at the ready as they go in. 

Sinclaire’s penthouse is bougie as they come, more proof for her theory that rich people just have no fucking taste. Tacky and gaudy decorations in a lavish open room plan. The disgusting lack of taste nearly distracts from what he has that is of legitimate value; a bar stocked with expensive booze and a tv nearly as wide as a car. 

“Doesn’t seem like Sinclaire was hurting for eddies.” 

“That’s fine, plenty to sell off if he already moved the cargo.” 

“Place giving you sticky fingers?” 

“Mmhmm,” she hums as she rubs the dirty heel of her boot against the tacky zebra rug, satisfied when she leaves a smudge of filth in the white of it. 

They move through the penthouse, finding the office door, Jackie doesn’t jump to do anything, instead giving her a nod. He’s letting her lead the charge, take care of her own business on her own terms and she’s beyond thankful for it. No desire to be subtle, V kicks the door in, slamming her boot into the door and watching it burst open under her force. 

Sinclaire yells out, jolting at the sight of the two mercs bursting into his office. He’s still sat at his desk, hands raised in surrender as he looks at V, then his eyes drag over to Jackie. Staring down two barrels, he still finds it in him to sneer. 

“V…see you managed to find yourself a friend in the trash.” 

“Pair of crosshairs, both on ya, wouldn’t be mouthing off if I was you,” Jackie warns. 

“Someone wi-“ 

“Already iced your muscle and got control of the cams,” V explains, smirking as his ego deflates, “the only way you’re getting out of here alive is if you tell me where the cargo is.” 

“Seriously, all this over some ca-“ 

V cocks her gun and presses it to his forehead, finger on the trigger, held in one hand so she can still sign. 

“Either I get the cargo or I get revenge; take your pick.” 

“In the tank behind you.” 

“Jackie.” She doesn’t want them to both turn their back on Sinclaire, slimy fuck that he is. 

“What don’t trust me?” 

She cracks her pistol across his cheek, the force of it knocking him out of his chair and onto the floor. V steps on his back, gun still pointed at his dome as she presses her weight down on him. The pale of his cheek starts to turn purple and she feels just a touch of satisfaction knowing she’s dealt him even a fraction of the harm he dealt her. 

“Iguana, lesser Antillean I think,” Jackie calls out and with the new position she’s put Sinclaire in she’s able to crane her neck to see. A large tank with a bright green lizard, black around his face, and red spines down it’s back. 

“What!?”  Her voice comes out along with her signing, distorting and layering over the artificial one, unable to contain her temper as she looks down at Sinclaire, pressing her foot down harder on him, “did you try to kill me over a fuckin’ lizard!?” 

“You got any idea how much that thing’s worth?”

She pulls her foot off of him just to grab his shirt collar, dragging Sinclaire back up to his feet. V keeps one hand wrapped up in his collar and uses the other to press the gun against his back. She shoves him, he tries to resist, but despite their size difference V is easily able to out strength him. The former nomad drags him through his penthouse and out the door, across the hallway towards a door. Jackie’s steps echo through the building as he covers her, keeping a lookout for any new guards that may show. She kicks the door open from behind Sinclaire, the flights of stairs greeting them, one’s going down and the ones that go up to the roof. 

“T-bug, roof?” V asks, voice still distorted and echoing through the filter of her mask, unable to sign with her hand full. 

“No muscle up there, you’re good.” 

“Look, we can talk about this V, w-“ 

“Move.”  She jabs her gun into the small of his back, emphasizing her point. Sinclaire marches up the stairs as she forces him upwards, they reach the final door that leads out and V kicks it open like she did the last before making him walk through. 

The former nomad forces him out onto the roof of the megabuilding, cool air hitting her fevered skin. They don’t stop moving, V’s eyes trained on the edge of the roof as she pushes him forward. He babbles, utterances and insistence that they can work this out; but she’s pissed and he has to pay. He’s not going to get away with it, no one is ever going to get away with treating her like this again. 

Sinclaire stops moving, feet cemented in place just before he hits the edge, still trying to beg for his life as he resists her pushing on his back and neck. 

“V, please, please we can ta-“ 

His voice cuts to a scream as she shoves him as hard as she can with both hands, knocking him off balance and sending him over the side of the building. She watches as his body plummets; a low whistle ringing out beside her. 

“Long way down, ya know I heard folks die before they even hit the ground on falls like that.” 

“That’s a shame,” she signs, shaking her head, she wanted him to feel it when his head hits the concrete. 

“Feel any better?” 

“Yeah, lets klep the lizard and run before someone asks questions.” 

“No rush, pigs will just think he offed himself, happens all the time.” 

“Good to know.” 

“Still wouldn’t throw yourselves a party up there, NCPD might come check the area once it’s reported.” T-bug warns over the comms. 

“Yeah, in like two days, chill Bug,” Jackie assures her as him and V leave the roof, taking the stairs back down to the penthouse. 

There’s a weight off of V’s shoulders as she and Jackie return to Sinclaire’s penthouse office. She hefts a little sigh as she sees the bright green iguana and she’s reminded of Jackie’s earlier comment, called it a lesser antil-something. 

“You know a lot about iguanas?” she asks him, he has Taco after all, he seems to like fish and lizards. 

“Ah, saw something about ‘em on the science channel,” he looks to the iguana, calmly sitting in it’s tank, “you come a long way, my scaley friend.” 

She can see a softness in Jackie’s smile, and she can’t blame him, the iguana is adorable. Tentatively, V lowers her hand down into the terrarium. She nudges her fingers against the lizard, feeling it’s bumpy skin that’s been warmed under a heat lamp. It’s tail flicks against her just before it turns to knock it’s face against her hand, nuzzling under the touch. She can’t help but smile, signing with her free hand to Jackie. 

“Yeah, I’d kill me for him too.” 

Jackie laughs as the iguana latches it’s claws into her hoodie sleeve, before climbing up the length of her arm. She lets out a soft little exclamation as the reptile makes it’s way to her shoulder, burrowing itself into the junction where her neck and shoulder meet. 

“Awww cuddly fucker,” Jackie coos, smiling softly at V and her new snuggle buddy. 

“He’s…probably worth a lot…” She slowly signs, unable to have much energy at the idea of selling him. V wants to make the money she meant to make, iguanas are rare, but…he’s very cute.  And maybe she’s too much of a softie for animals.

“Yeah, a shame too, been wanting another pet, Taco’s got some age on him now…Had the name Manny all figured out too.” 

“Are the two of you, serious?” T-bug comments, rolling her eyes in the holoview, “all of this and you want to keep the lizard?” 

“I mean…I don’t want him to fall into the wrong hands,” V tries to defend herself. 

“Iguanas have very specific needs, not just anyone can take care of ‘em,” Jackie adds.

“But you’re like, an iguana expert, basically.” 

“Basically.” 

“And I mean, if you and Mama Welles don’t mind having me around a while longer, I won’t need the cash right away.” 

“Hell no, we don’t mind.” 

“Just keep the damn thing and shut up,” T-bug scolds, sick of them trying to justify it. 

“C’mon, let’s get Manny home and set up,” Jackie explains, unplugging the heat lamp so he can grab it along with the tank. 

“We gotta keep him warm, right?” 

“Yep, can’t let him get chilled.”

She nods, deciding to scoop up Manny and move him from her shoulder to putting him in her hoodie, hugging him close to her body over the fabric. V feels a bit like she’s cradling a baby, which isn’t terribly off base. Manny is now her child, she has decided. Jackie starts to carry the iguana stuff out of the penthouse, cutting through the kitchen with V trailing behind him. 

V jumps and yelps, a loud popping noises and sparks flying out of a toaster as she walks past. She clutches Manny to her chest, the iguana clinging to her under her hoodie after the startle. 

“Impressed?” T-bug asks, raising an eyebrow and V tries desperately to suppress her smile at the joke. A part of her mad that she was caught off guard by the trick, damn netrunners. 

“I’m something, alright, scared the shit out of me.”  

“Holy shit,” Jackie says with a smile teasing at the corner of his lips, “Bug making jokes, I must be dying.” 

“Fuck off, cutting comms, now.”  

“Talk to you later, Bug.” 

“Hmm, maybe, we’ll see how I feel,” T-bug teases, “nice meeting you V.” 

“Thanks again for the help, and the minor heart attack I guess.” 

“Anytime.” 

“I’m not sure if you mean the help or the heart attack.” 

“Could go either way.”  T-bug tells her before cutting communication, the woman’s face blinking from V’s mask. The merc laughs, softly at the exchange as she pushes the mask up onto her head.  T-bug seems nice underneath it all, colder than Jackie, but most people are. The teddy bear of a guy is hard to compete with warmth wise. 

She trails behind Jackie as the pair leave to the elevator. V leans against one wall of the elevator, against one of the bright screens that play ads, looking down at Manny tucked in her hoodie. He’s too cute. Jackie gives her a wink before he hits the button on the elevator and it lurches into movement. 

“Once we get little mano here set up, we’ll head over to Misty’s.” 

“Misty?” She fingerspells the name out, cocking her head to the side in question. 

“My mainline,” he gets a dreamy little smile on his face, “mi amada, you’ll love her, she’s the sweetest thing” 

“Oooooh~”

“Jesus fuck!”  V yells out and jumps to hide behind Jackie at the sudden keening moan in her ear, holding Manny tighter to her chest.

“Pfff,” Jackie’s shoulders shake, before he busts out in laughter, clutching at his stomach. 

Heat flushes up to V’s hairline as she sees the source of her distress, the screen she’d been leaning against now display an advertisement for Milfgaard some cougar website with a scantily clad older woman spreading her legs and moaning. She threw a man off a building and the scariest parts of her day have been a toaster and a porn ad. 

“My god, you’re wound tighter than a clock, Jaina,” he teases her. 

“Shut up.” 

“We have got to loosen you up,” he tells her as they step out the elevator and back out the lobby of the megabuilding. 

She carefully pulls her bag and her mother’s guitar case on her shoulders, making sure not to shuffle Manny too much before she trots off behind Jackie. There’s already cop cars pulling up behind the megabuilding as the two mercs disappear into the crowd. 

Once Manny is settled in his tank next to Taco’s and V’s stuff is put aside in Jackie’s room; her new friend is pulling her back out of the house. He’s pure excitement accentuated by a wide grin as he shows her the city and god it has it’s problems, what place doesn’t, but there’s something to it. She could write a list of flaws from the corps to the trash, to the cruelty, to the poverty, and homelessness that run rampant there. 

‘Hellooooo there Night City!’

But there’s an energy she can’t describe. 

Night City has a magic to it, it’s the only way she can define it. Neon lights distract her from the trash that covers every corner. The constant thrum of music helping drown out the just as constant sound of gunfire. Something is magnetic and she understands why so many people are drawn to such a place. 

‘Stanley,  here with you and we got another day ahead of us in this city of dreams!’

She meets Misty; Jackie’s mainline in her candle lit shop for tarot readings and chakra realignments. The pair adorable as Jackie spins the blonde goth around in his arms. She says V has a nice aura but her chakras are misalligned, which sounds dumb to the merc, but Misty says it with such a sweet smile and V loses the will to tell her as much. Turns out the oil smell in Jackie’s blankets is diluted cedarwood oil that Misty gives him to keep away negative energy and aura blockages. 

Misty reads her tarot cards not long after they meet, her cards frayed and worn, as she tells V what the hanged man card means. V doesn’t buy into any of it; but Misty is kind and earnest, the merc willing to entertain her eccentricities if only to say in Misty’s company. V learns her aura is a bright cyan blue, is given a chrysocolla crystal which provides energy for a fresh start, and lavender oil to encourage relaxation and sleep. How Misty knew her sleep struggles, she has no idea, but the lavender does help her relax so why look a gift horse in the mouth.  She signs a thanks while tucking the rollerball of oil into her pocket. 

‘Ooh, I love this town!’ 

V meets Vik the same day, trying to hide her nerves at being in a clinic as Jackie and the ripperdoc playfully punch at each other. He’s a sweet older man, tattoos and jewelry showing his love for boxing. He doesn’t even get mad the first time he tries to even look over her and she has a panic attack, accidentally kicking him in the groin, before the ripperdoc glove can even touch her. She apologizes like her life depends on it, hands aching by the time she’s done signing it. He laughs it off, laughs harder when she jokes about not getting candy for being a good patient.

The next time he tries, he stops himself. Face contorting when he’s able to get as far as a diagnostic report this time, seeming stressed by the results. He asks about her autoimmune disease, diagnostics picking up on her overactive antibodies. She can nearly see his heart sinking, like she’s his own child and not just a stranger who freaked out on his table one time. He’s horrified to know her condition has gone completely untreated, that her fear of doctors kept her from getting the treatment she needed. She doesn’t explain where the fear comes from, not wanting to recount her experiences with the clan doctor, the fear of having treatments done against her will. He warns her that while it’s not attacking her eyes or joints as aggressively, overtime and without any treatment it could take the eyes next, the muscles, the joints, the organs. Her entire body could with time destroy itself. Before he fathoms giving her implants, he puts her on immunosuppressants. Making her sure her health is stable, that her body has calmed in attacking itself . Only then, do they go back to the idea of installing cyberware, she even gets a lolly along with her shot and pills; Vik leaning into her dumb joke. 

She takes the personal link and neural slots well, cyberdeck and the like added. But the idea of losing her eyes is too much, he says he’ll work with her. He works with her lot, both on the money and with her own discomfort. Vik doesn’t press a “fix” for her hearing, instead beefing up her hearing aids so she has more control over the volume and so she can tune it to police scanners; not that she has any intention of doing contract work for the pigs, but it’s good to know what they’re up to if nothing else.  He doesn’t even get mad when she nearly breaks her personal link a day after him installing it, unable to stop playing with the damn thing. 

‘Love it like you might love a mother who popped you out on the steps of an orphanage once and now stops to ask you if you got a smoke for her!’

In a few weeks he’s gotten her contacts that work like optics and helped her fashion a choker with the same AI translator of sign language; for when she chooses to ditch the mask. He also has candy, leaning into her dumb joke, and for the first time she feels like she can trust a doctor. And she doesn’t go anywhere else, even if she catches a bullet in Pacifica, she makes Jackie haul her ass to Watson to see Vik. 

She soon learns that she and Jackie just work. There’s a synergy to their partnership, an understanding and balance that shows in their merc work. He’s stronger than her, knows the streets and people of Night City better than she could ever hope. But she’s stealthier, quieter, and cleaner in her work. She leads the charge when dropping targets quietly and he runs the show when they’re going in guns ablazing. Though he always tries to keep her safe, perhaps out of care and perhaps out of a sense of obligation. It’d be smothering if it weren’t endearing. 

‘Every new day here, means another hundred new arrivals!’

It’s not all cherries on sundaes, the two don’t always get along and butt heads more than once. Mostly over gigs; money vs morality. She won’t take corp or cop cash, unless it’s stolen; they want work they can find some other gonk. Jackie says cash is cash, no matter who’s paying. She gets the pragmatism but can’t do it, shutting down a fixer the second she learns their money is coming from Biotechnica. Jackie isn’t happy, but he respects the call. They agree to disagree, if he wants to take those gigs, he can do them without her. He doesn’t take it in the end, she wonders if he doesn’t want to solo it or if she managed to get him thinking about where his money comes from. 

“But only half these gonks will survive a year and that’s if it’s a good one.” 

They find a steady routine and flow; working gigs, grabbing lunch with Misty and Vik, more gigs, dinner with Mama Welles, maybe a few more jobs and maybe hitting the bars to spend the eddies they just made. Regular trips to the black market to pick up some ammo and firearms. He has a date with Misty about every week, something V always takes the time to mock. But it’s all in good fun. Some night her and Jackie fall asleep on the couch in a heap watching movies, waking up with Mama Welles having thrown a blanket over them. Other nights she spends at a Kabuki motel, wrapped up in whoever she picked up at the bar. 

She experiences her first braindance, loses a tooth when they sneak into the Riot nightclub, gets in another police chase, and sees her first pair of Mantis Blades when they’re coming for her head. V realizes Mama Welles runs the Coyote Cujo and gets better introduced to the staff there; including a busboy named Jake who finds his way into her pants quite easily.  

‘And why do these peeps come to NC?’ 

And then a month has gone by and she has no idea where it went. 

V spends her saved back money on a car before she rents an apartment; sick of using the train. Nothing like trying to move a dead body on public transit. Jackie helps her pick it out, the car sold to her by Padre, because every fixer apparently doubles as a car salesman. It only seemed right for her to buy from him and to get Jackie’s approval before she made the purchase. Her bobblehead sits on the dashboard proudly.  

She helps Jackie pick out a new deck of tarot cards for Misty,  spending an entire day browsing mystical shops before they find the perfect one. Misty adores them and gives the mercs readings as soon as she opens the box, feeling a connection to the cards. 

‘Well, to be street samurai like Morgan Blackhand and Waylon Boa Boa!” 

Misty and Vik hear her voice, no mask, for the first time on a sunny day after she accidentally launched herself down the stairs in front of the doc’s clinic in an office chair. Laughing as Vik asked her if she was stupid and telling him, “yes.” Because who is she to deny the truth? 

In between gigs, Jackie drags her down to Jig Jig street, the most perverse section of Night City. Sex shops, strippers, and joytoys as far as the eye can see. He gives her hell for the way cheeks flush red, they’re there for fun and not business so the mask is off, she’s still not used to the brazen displays of sexuality a person finds in the city. But, despite her awkwardness, she’s far from opposed to it. 

‘The greater the risk, the bigger the bounty!” 

She childishly demands Vik and Jackie teach her how to box when she finds out there’s a club for it that they both attend. V manages to last a round with Jackie, but only by being fast enough not to get hit, taunting him until he gets a punch in on the second round and knocks her ass to the ground. He apologized a thousand times but all she could do was laugh. Misty has it on camera, as she should. 

Misty shows V her little rooftop get away on top of her shop, her zen garden with plastic chairs where they can spend time together when they need a nicer view during lunch, Misty, Jackie, Vik, and V eat their Chinese food takeout or whatever they’ve decided on up there. Once or twice V finds herself going up there alone at night, just to take in the way the neon lights of the city hit the black sky. The city may have been named after its founder, but she finds it more apt to describe when the city is at its most beautiful. 

 She also gets to witness a rare spat between Misty and Jackie when she catches the merc’s dangling a target over the side of said roof to get information. Jackie letting go of the guy to try to apologize for ruining the aura of the roof; while V struggled to hold him up…and eventually dropped him. But Jackie bought Misty some sage to cleanse the roof, so all well that ends well. 

‘Or so they say!’ 

Another month gone by like she blinked it away. 

T-bug starts to work with them again, off and on. Jackie told her she only owed him a favor and didn’t work with him long term. But she reconnects, helping get them more jobs and helping the jobs run even smoother with a trusted security expert on their side. She teaches V how to use quick hacks, but the merc still prefers blades and baseball bats. Mostly just using them to blind folks before she stabs them. 

She catches a bullet in Santo Domingo, a 6th street member trying to settle a score and she refuses to go to anyone but Vik. The merc holds her hand to her wound as Jackie drives them to Watson. It’s the first time she’s ever seen Vik mad, he patches her up but he scolds her for hours after, that she should have seen the nearest doc. That she could have died. And she has no excuse, but she knows she’d do it again. 

‘But you can only be a major league player for so long!” 

A gig drags V and Jackie out to a supposedly haunted old building; Misty tags along, nearly bouncing at the prospect of contacting spirits. V learns that Jackie is afraid of ghosts and spends the entire job trying to entice the supposed specters into eviscerating her. They all leave unscathed though Jackie looked on the verge of tears. 

T-bug hacks a Militch training datashard at some point and V decides to try to play through it, interested in learning any new tips or tricks that could help her. The netrunning lessons are the most useful, Bug managing to help even an idiot like V figure out how to do some quick hacks and use daemons. She also gains a new appreciation for being called maggot by her friend. Bug definitely had way too much fun play sergeant. 

During a job, Jackie and V hear a man yelling into his phone demanding to know if the person on the other end fucked his wife. They lose their minds laughing and lose the person they were tracking for a good hour. Misty and Vik think they’ve gone nuts when they spend the rest of the day mimicking the stranger to make each other laugh; seeing who can scream “did you fuck my wife!?” the loudest without shame. Jackie wins. 

‘The faster you live, the faster you burn out!’ 

Vik catches her eyeing the projectile launcher system implant; essentially a rocket launcher that goes into the forearm. She’d love to have that sheer amount of firepower at will, plus unlike other weapon implants it’s only on one arm, less intrusive for the cyberware shy merc. The ripper offers to install it for her on credit and she nearly chokes, amazed that he’d be so kind, maybe he just trusts her when she says she doesn’t go to any other doc. But she refuses, not willing to take advantage of his good graces. Deciding instead to save up once she gets the apartment. 

She meets Cecelia, a waitress at Tom’s Diner, an older woman with pretty eyes. Jackie nearly rolls his eyes out of his head when V starts flirting, giving her even more shit about V’s taste in older men and women after she gets Cecelia in bed. Along with Jake, she becomes one of her rare repeat bedmates. They’re both significantly older than the young merc, each with children, and not interested in anything deeper than rolling around in the sheets, after all anyone with eyes can see V’s not stepparent material. There’s no danger of them wanting more, so V’s happy to return to them when she wants something more familiar than a one-night stand. 

‘If you don’t get a bullet to the brain first!’ 

Misty gets confused when V signs Jackie’s name sign, instead of fingerspelling it. Optics getting the translation off and muddled. So, the merc is left explaining the inability of optic tech to translate name signs due to their highly individualized nature. Jackie’s name sign to her is only that, his name sign to her. It’s not mind reading tech…yet.  Her cheeks flush red when she has to explain that Jackie’s name sign for her is a combination of the sign for the letter ‘J’ and the sign for ‘brother.  Fingerspelling J, then bringing that fist with the pinky out onto an “L” shape formed by her other hand. Jackie pulls her into a hug immediately after, nearly crushing the air out of her lungs. She’s less timid during this hug, he tells her she’s getting better, but it still needs work. 

Vik, Misty, and Jackie take to trying to learn more sign language; letting V teach them whenever they all find a spare moment. Mama Welles even uses a few, picking them up from V and Jackie. The merc tears up, none of them are fluent, but they’re trying. Trying to learn for her and she’s so rarely had anyone care enough to try for her; her sister and mother the only one of the nomad family who knew it fluently, who took the time to learn. Ava learned a few then stopped bothering. Years of no one caring enough to learn for her, but even with all the tech in the world to get around it, they still try. She doesn’t explain her tears, and no one makes her, Misty just gently rubbing her back as they continue with the  lesson. 

Jackie helps her with Spanish in return, just as they talked about. Some things are intentionally taught to her, other just picked up. Pendejo is forever ingrained in her head.  Though, a part of her wonders how much use it really will be, if maybe Jackie just likes that she has to talk during these lessons. She’s become more comfortable with talking with him verbally. It happens naturally, over their time together. That when it’s just him and her, she’ll find herself talking along with her sign language. But, she’s still tight-lipped when she ventures outside her new social circle. She doesn’t think she’ll ever have it in her to be completely verbal. 

Another month gone…

“NC’s Legends! Know where you’ll find most of them?”

Taco passes away, the mini-shark was an older pet even when Jackie first got him. He knew it was coming, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. They hold a makeshift funeral for Taco, Misty and V hugging Jackie as he cries. Mama Welles makes his favorite foods for dinner and V stays with him through a movie night. It doesn’t make things magically okay, he hurts and he grieves the lost of his friend. But he’s not alone and they fall asleep on the couch in a heap. He spends the next night at Misty’s and V finds herself wishing that Misty and Mama Welles got along better, that they all could have been there to support Jackie that first night. 

She knows he’s back on the upswing when they find an abandoned grocery cart and he offers to push her around in it. V calls it a dumb idea than promptly climbs inside. Jackie gets a long running start and heavy push of his foot before putting both feet up, letting them ride out the distance, giggling like children. Then they hit a hill and flip at the bottom of it, on the ground staring at the stars and giggling like concussed children. 

At some point in the month a client invites them to an orgy after they drop off the goods they were asked to steal. V finally gets her revenge for Jig Jig street, Jackie’s face turning red all the way to the tips of his ears. He refuses and runs to tell Misty as soon as he can, as if even getting the invite makes him feel guilty. Jackie’s the only one who ever finds out about whether V went, a secret she likes to keep close to her heart. 

V gets…acquainted with her first exotic partner, that is to say someone who’s had animal based body mods done. She’s seen the cat ears and tails and nearly got bit by a ganger with fangs; but the full anthropomorphic furry mods took her by surprise.  Some people played Sonic as a kid and just never looked back, she supposes. Not that she can judge, she did spot the heavily modded bunny exotic girl across a bar and decide why not. It was an interesting night, the fur took getting use to, and she thinks the girl was a little sick of V petting her ears after a while. 

Her and Jackie find an illegal firearms dealer, her best friend finding a pair of pistols he loves. They’re embellished with gold and he proudly brandishes them, spinning them in his hands and giving her a grin a mile wide. 

And another month finds it’s end. 

“The Graveyard.” 

She’s fallen into the habit of using her mask during her work and using the choker with the contacts during her personal time. It keeps business a bit more separate and she feels more secure in the hiding of her identity this way, most fixers and clients don’t know what V looks like. not that she worries much about The Herd anymore. The days blink by faster and faster without her ever thinking that her former family might have an inkling of where she is. Despite the polluted air, she’s breathing easier. 

There’s a few rumors among mercs and fixers about what her deal is, why she hides her face. From burns, cyberware gone wrong, to some mutated twin stuck on her head. She encourages them, finding each new crazy idea funnier than the last. Her favorite is just telling people she was born with a bad case of ugly and seeing their reaction. None of them are any the wiser when they pass her unmasked on the street, thinking her just some other Night City citizen and not the same merc. 

“Matters not where you’re from.” 

In her six month in Night City, she finally gets an apartment to herself. Not wanting to have spent half a year mooching off of the Welles family. Even if Mama Welles insists it’s no trouble, that she’s a delight to have around and her stress cleaning has done wonders for their home. She still can’t bring herself to spend the rest of her day living off their good graces. Mama Welles holds her face and kisses the top of her head before she leaves, making her promise to come see her again. 

Her apartment is in a megabuilding in Watson, one of the worst districts in Night City, though better than Pacifica she supposes. She’s on the eighth floor, the buildings all get nicer the higher up you get and have at least twenty levels. It is far from grand but it’s hers. Jackie and Misty help her move in, as well as decorate. Putting pictures and fairy lights up over her enclosed bed, another strand of lights across the opening for it and over top of the shuddered windows.  And install a sensor on the door that will make a bright red light shine if someone knocks, so she can see it if she has her hearing aids out. The apartment only comes with a microwave and vending machine as far as food goes, no kitchen or fridge. But there is a stash room for weaponry because guns are more important than getting to cook for herself.  But beggars can’t be choosers, Misty even brings some purifying crystals and burns sage to keep the energy clean even if the apartment floor isn’t. 

She gets to know some of her neighbors and people who run businesses on the services floor of the megabuilding. Wilson runs the Second Amendment gun store on the floor below hers, he’s a curmudgeon of an older guy who runs away most customers with his consistent yelling about respecting firearms. But he doesn’t seem to mind her, maybe because his yelling didn’t scare her away. 

“Matter not where you start.” 

Brooks is an  enby with green cat ears on the floor above her sells V edibles, pot brownies and cookies whenever she has the spare eddies. It helps her sleep a little easier on nights where she doesn’t have a partner and eases some of her anxiety that still pops up every now and again. 

The guy who lives in the apartment just below her own is a beat cop named Barry. Something she learns when she’s playing music with her hearing aids out, top volume so she can feel the vibrations rattling her bones and shaking the walls. It apparently shook his walls too and he came knocking on the door. She didn’t get a chance to read his lips when she answered the door, but judging by the drop on his face when she started signing, she suspects he might have been demanding to know if she was ‘fuckin’ deaf or something’. Despite his job, he’s an alright guy and they find themselves talking a few times after laughing off the exchange. If he quit, maybe she’d consider calling him a friend someday. 

“What matters here is the walk you walk.” 

Things in Night City are good, really good for her. There’s conflict and struggles along the way, she collects new scars. The bullet in Santa Domingo, a mantis blade catching her gut, wolvers skimming her back, and bit by a ganger with vampire mods just to name a few. Night City rattles and rolls her, some days she craves the clean air and open road of the Badlands. She’d be lying if she said otherwise. But there’s an ease in the city, in the people she’s found that make it feel like another home. 

She’s laughing and smiling more than she has ever before. V’s able to joke and play around, find a sense of humor and excitement in her life rather than just fear. She’s free to do her merc work, set her own rules and still make a mark. Her and Jackie are steadily carving their place into the ecosystem of the city. She’s showing her strength, her capability, her resilience. She’s not defective, she’s a merc on the rise, a couple fixers go to. She’s got money in her pocket; a roof and food she got with said money.

And she’s got a family, a real one, not made of blood but love. At least she loves them and she hopes they’ve managed to find something in her worth loving. In a dirty city of neon, she managed to find her place in this world, not where she expected but she’s exactly where she needs to be. 

‘In Night City, the city of dreams!’ 

[wraithsoutlaws]

💥, ☀️, 🌙, 🔮, and 🍆 (if you're comfortable answering) for Dagger :3

eee tysm <3

💥 Are there any emotions your OC doesn’t know how to deal with, doesn’t understand or hates having to feel? Any reason behind this?

dagger doesn't really know how to deal with ANY emotion tbh which is too bad for him because despite himself, he's actually a very emotional person and is thus often overwhelmed by them. he’s spent a lot of his life trying to detach himself from feelings and because of that has a really hard time even recognizing what they are. he filters most things through anger and violence, because they're easiest and they effectively offer a short catharsis. others go into his painting. love is a hard one for him (and rare) because he sees it as a weakness, so when hes not blind to it, he'll run from it, sabotage it, destroy it and then he'll regret it which makes him feel worse and makes him spiral further and likely lead to an outburst. he hates anything that comes with a sense of powerlessness or vulnerability and will kill and maim in order to avoid that. anything he does is a way for him to escape feeling small or afraid.

☀️ How well does your OC take care of themself? Do they tend to put others before their own wellbeing and if so how often? What is their favourite way to pamper themself?

badly, both mentally and physically, though he sees absolutely nothing wrong with the way he is and thus will probably never change. he forgets to eat, refuses to sleep, often lets wounds go untreated unless they're very serious (he likes pain anyway) and instead of confronting any of his issues he'll either just Kill Someone or go on a drug bender. pretty rarely does he choose to consider anyone else's well being (except cockroach who always gets top billing), but when he does it means he genuinely cares for them and he'll treat them better than himself. he's also not one for pampering, he truly doesn't even have a concept for what that means because it’s always been so far from his life, but sometimes he'll break into a nice penthouse, paint himself in the owner's blood and order a really expensive meal just for the feeling of power in it and that always makes him feel nice #selfcare

🌙 What are some of your OC’s favourites? Favourite food, colour, season, stuff like that! Give some general simple facts that tend to get overlooked!

his favorite color is red, though for clothes he prefers black. he loooves greasy disgusting street food; soggy burgers and hot dogs and sauerkraut, chili cheese fries. he used to run away from the nomads to steal as much as he could from vendors in the nearest city and eat it until he puked but he doesn’t indulge in food much anymore unless someone else brings it for him (dum dum does this a lot but dagger usually gives at least half of it to cockroach). he also has a soft spot for chicken n dumpling soup which his mom used to make and though he never ever lets himself think about his childhood he still unconsciously craves it sometimes. he favors the cooler seasons though there isn’t much difference in the badlands and has always had an almost childish fascination with snow and wants to experience it someday. (he thinks it would be fun to make it all bloody).

🔮What does your OC think is their best trait. What is actually their best trait? What about their flaws? Are they one to admit these flaws or do they like to pretend they’re perfect?

answered here!

🍆 (feel free to skip this one if you don’t feel comfortable answering it for a particular OC!) What is your OC like in bed? Are they particularly sensitive or have anywhere they really like being touched? Are they loud, quiet, intense? What are their turn ons and turn offs?

he's pretty aggressive and intense in bed and primarily needs to be in control. it's definitely gonna be rough and violent. he gets off on giving pain and marking his partner up, so you can bet that his knives will make a regular appearance. a lot of his scars were received during sex as he likes to cut himself (and others), and blood is one of his biggest kinks. he likes to be covered in it, whether its his own or his partners, and you'll find him tasting it quite often. his neck is fairly sensitive (if someone is lucky they get to bite him there) and he loves to have his fingers sucked. any amount of control over another person will do it for him, he wants to feel like a god and if you indulge him then he'll (probably) indulge you. he's pretty vocal too, he likes to talk, degrade, order and demand.

oc asks

[baus-designated-dad]

Mike was running through all the places him and Corey like to hang out in his head trying to think of a place that John would know of too a place that he would feel more at home he was running through every place in his head as he led Aaron enter the diner Mike ordered a dozen chili dogs and three large orders of chili fries to go

"I'm trying to think of a place John found out about. Maybe you know John caught Corey and cherish laying together looking at the stores like they usually did they never actually you know did the deed because Corey wasn't for sure if he liked her well enough or not. John might have killed her or Corey might have accidentally done it either way I don't see Corey willingly killing someone you know."Mike said quietly as he set in the corner booth waiting for the food to get ready so they can take off

Spencer Derek Elle and Penelope enter the diner.

"Hey little mama we got here as soon as we could have you found any clues about where JJ might be?"Derek asked quietly as he sat on the corner of the table

Meanwhile back were JJ was being held JJ was now completely unchained laying on the floor all of her ribs were broken and she had deep cuts on her back from where Corey had beat her with the whip severely she was shaking and crying and it's Corey got on her and started to rape her he went deep inside of her. He could feel her shake and hear her cry he could feel blood coming from her what's that normal he didn't understand why she would be believing he wasn't even being rough yet but he knew he had to be rough. He started to go in and out of her really deeply just like he seen his dad due to one before he wasn't for sure what he was doing but he knew he had to do just like Dad did where else he would be in trouble.

Corey pulled out after he went off deep inside of JJ he never shot a load off before it felt good but at the same time it felt bad because he knew JJ didn't want it. He was just about to put it away when JJ put her mouth clear around it and started to chew the head of his penis she left deep bite marks all over the head and down the shaft and she was chewing on it like she was trying to eat it he was able to jerk it out and he was shaking and crying

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I didn't want to I didn't want to I just want to I didn't want to I didn't want to hurt you I guess. You tried to eat it you tried to eat it you're trying to eat it it hurts it hurts oh God it hurts."Corey quickly put it in his pants he looks scared as blood was running down his legs

"Oh god not only were you abused but you're autistic. Corey I want you to run off you have my phone don't you?"JJ asked quietly Cory nodded his head

"Queen you got a chance to run just leave me and run walk the door behind you and run. When you get far enough away I want you to call Ashley."JJ said quietly Corey did what he was told he locked the door behind him and ran off into the woods and climbed up a tree he was holding himself he was hurting bad he called Ashley's number his hands were shaking

“I don’t give a damn what Corey fucking Bridges says Aaron. Mike Zizzo didn’t do this.”

"I need you to take a few deep breaths I know what saying. There is some evidence but I have been doing more digging and you need to calm down a little bit. I don't think he's capable of doing it and Penelope doesn't believe so either."Aaron grunted crossing his arms

@spencermaybank

[kyokkou]

nation ‘powers’ and the two japan personifications; - or: the post i said i’d make days ago.

when it comes to this sort of thing, i don’t like to go overboard. even this much is going overboard; making kiku half-inugami was not a decision i made lightly, or for the sake of making him special without any further explanation. i wanted him to have a legitimate reason to exist outside of the imperial period and outside of hikaru’s mind, where he’d always been in the first place. i also wanted to tie it into japanese folklore somehow-- which was difficult, as it’s a topic i know almost nothing about. i had help from friends in this, and am taking some artistic liberties based on the fact that aph and similar “nation rep” concepts are themselves fictitious and can have any manner of origin and ability.

kiku does not have many abilities to speak of; i wouldn’t even call his massive appetite an ability or a power, but a result of his time as an empire having a constant thirst for expansion. he can still put massive amounts of food away, and i really am not joking when i say that he could eat a whole cake on his own. at one point it was funny, but eventually it just made sense. he eats a lot. but he often doesn’t express his hunger to others; telling hikaru would have made it burdensome especially as the war went on and food became more heavily rationed. presently, hikaru has probably already found out about it, but only very recently, probably in the 2000s or 2010s. he also has a wide range of foods he enjoys, not just food that originated in japan. of course, that’s his favorite, but he’s a bit of a junk food junkie, and consumes fast food on a frequent basis compared to the average citizen-- especially because of his proximity to the us fleet activities in yokosuka. it is literally a six minute drive from the jmsdf yokosuka district headquarters and there is a mcdondald’s and a chili’s there. he has bad choices to make! 

the one ability that i consider wild which he does have, inherited from the inugami, is a passive one. he doesn’t even realize he has it, nor would he believe in it actually being real. he does not see supernatural creatures until very recently, and even then... it’s limited to their house spirit. and when i say very recently i mean within the year as he only recently began to attend the shrine with hikaru. and at first, he thinks she’s just some girl from the children’s school who is over every day to do homework with them. anyway, the ability he inherited was wish granting-- to make it simple. it’s actually more complicated than that:

your wish had better be very specific or you get whatever it sounds like without context. 笑 he also has to secretly want it; for example, the way that honoka came into existence. it was a challenge; “oh? you think you can stop the restoration? i would love nothing more than to see you try. i would win.” well, sakura wanted to stop him incredibly badly, too; she wished she could have someone as a contender who could stand up to kiku before he got too powerful.

surprise, you are now the proud siblings (?) of a fourth personification, the republic of ezo, and her name is honoka. it happened the same way that inugami took hikaru’s wish for someone to take his trouble from him and kiku’s wish to protect hikaru. they both got what they wanted, but it did not turn out in an ideal way. you get what you ask for and now you must live with it. 

other than that, abilities kiku has are limited to a good sense of hearing and smell. he really isn’t that special.  animals tend not to like him, akimitsu (his own son!) calls him demon, and he’s been chased out of shrines by priests both during his time as the rep of the empire, and in the present. his appearance is the thing that is most visibly impacted by his origin, and even then, there exist many ways to cover up his red eyes and red markings, so he does. 

hikaru is able to sense other nations visiting, but it’s often just an ominous, anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach. he is also able to see all manner of creatures that are considered supernatural / folklore origins. this ability only disappeared from the 1900s until perhaps the mid 90s. it would have begun to fade out with the meiji era beginning, and was restored slowly as the heisei era began and progressed. the reason for this is because of how the state used the shinto religion at the time to push nationalist ideology of the empire, and emphasize the emperor as a divine being. this is still what kiku believes in and hikaru has been trying to push him towards actual shinto, not what has been since designated by historians as state shinto. it’s semi-working, of course, but it worked better on hikaru to gradually return to his traditions and thus gradually begin to see things the way he used to.

the canon idea that a creature, like a pet, who spends enough time around a nation rep will live an unnaturally long, if not immortal, life because of the proximity to the rep is one that i want to keep, actually. i think it’s an interesting effect of being a rep. this particular trait does not apply to kiku, only hikaru-- which is why both of their dogs have survived so long. hikaru was the one caring for them. :) 

one non-ability/power that hikaru has is having almost-unnatural beauty; but it’s a gender neutral kind of beauty, there are feminine features about him and masculine features about him, but he’s very difficult to pin down sometimes. that would depend entirely on the person’s perception who is looking at him. because of his nature as the peaceful one of the two, the one who actually renounces war and fighting, one could say that his inner beauty is shining through the surface. on the other hand, he was put here by amaterasu, so his radiance could just be due to his sun-goddess origins. 

☼

[emo-rejects-archive]

For the story prompt, may I ask for a lazy obese slob Ochako and Momo gorging themselves at a buffet?

“Nnngh... Mmph... H-Hey... Huff... Momo? You don’t think we’re... Nnglp... Overdoing it?”

“Hmm? Overdoing it? BWOOOOAARP!!! I don’t think we’re... Oooh... Doing ‘it’ enough!” Momo exclaimed, reaching a plump hand underneath her giant barrel-sized milkers, all just to give her greasy over-stuffed gut a few tender rubs.

“By ‘it’ do you mean studying, or eating?”

“Both, of course! We need to eat so we can have enough energy to study!” Momo spoke like she was reciting lines from a play, as “having enough energy to study” was always her excuse for her and Uraraka to gorge themselves like the utter pigs they had turned into. And yet Uraraka bought it everytime, keeping her overly large tummy fed being a better priority over her ever failing grades. Even then, the “energy” Yaoyarozu spoke of was practically nonexistent, given how lazy the two had gotten. It’s not that they were particularly immobile or anything, far from it, but they were just so slovenly that the mere act of waddling all the way to class was a pain in their fat duffs. It kinda made Uraraka think back to how all of this had started...

When they had both first enrolled in U.A. Momo and Uraraka had formed a strong friendship within their first month at the academy for heroes in training, which was surprising given their starkly different backgrounds, one always having been poor and trying to scrape by, the other having been rich and pampered her entire life. But what had brought them together in the first place was their frequent late night studying sessions, often hosted by Momo herself. These study sessions were often accompanied by some “study snacks”, also known as “pretty grand feasts” served by none other than the Yaoyarozu clan’s personal entourage of chefs. For whatever reason, as the months went by, these feasts kept growing in portion size, something which had only been emphasized once when they moved into the U-A dorms along with the rest of Class 1-A, where they had an entire buffet pumping food out for them twenty-four-seven. Needless to say, all of these months of gorging had had quite the tremendous impact on Momo and Uraraka’s waistlines.

Uraraka momentarily paused her eating, leaning back in her chairs, gently rubbing her overstuffed tummy. She really didn’t know how to feel about her obesity, even after recently passing the two-hundred-fifty kilogram mark. With the rate she was going, she would likely never lose weight again. Especially not with how huge her ass had gotten. That thing was so wide that it needed to be seated on THREE whole chairs JUST to hold it up, and even then, some loose chunky bits of peach-tinted booty flesh spilled spilled of the edges. It didn’t help that her skirt was a good few sizes too small, so in her sitting position, her panty-eating backside was left fully exposed, leaving every single pocket of fat and cellulite on her butt exposed to the warm air.

Uraraka let out a long sigh, her double chin and puffy dimpled cheeks bobbing up and down as she did so. She felt her big big tummy gurgle, signifying that she should probably get back to eating. Undoing the buttons on the gray top of her U.A uniform, she let her bloated belly surge out of its fabric confines. Her stomach was so big now, it was honestly hard to believe that she had once ever been so thin. So round, so heavy, so weirdly soft and bloated at the same time. Uraraka gave her tummy a few pats. She wasn’t always the biggest fan of her weight gain, but she did have to admit that her belly was kind of fun to play with and jiggle every now and again.

Uraraka leaned forward, trying to grab at another slop covered chili dog from the table. However, in doing so, she accidentally loosened some of her control on her tightly packed digestive track, allowing for a humid burst of flatulence to slap out from between the loose flab of her wide buttcheeks. Uraraka blushed, wiping some sweat off from underneath her nut-brown bangs, muttering out an apology. “U-Umm... S-Sorry...”

“Oh, Uraraka, no need to apologize! Besides, it’s really bad for your stomach BWOOOOAARP if you hold in your gas!” Momo exclaimed reassuringly, letting out a few bassy farts of her own, warming the air around her.

Uraraka watched with a small bit of concern in her eyes as Momo sloppily shoved spoonfuls of meat and ramen down her throat, random splotches of food staining the top of her uniform and even somehow getting pieces in her greasy black locks. Uraraka couldn’t help but feel a tad jealous at how Momo had gone from being a very dignified member of the U.A student body, to a slobby pile of lard, probably capable of mowing down the dorms entire buffet if she really wanted to. That, and the fact that Momo’s boobs were so huge that they were easily as big and as heavy as Mineta, and could probably crush a man’s skull in between them, something that was simultaneously horrifying and awe-inspiring. Meanwhile, poor Uraraka had barely gone up two whole cup sizes since she had started gaining, instead getting stuck with a ridiculously fat ass.

“Oh well, whatever...,” Uraraka muttered quietly. She knew that she was never going to lose weight ever again, so might as well indulge.

[thattrashcanofthrownoutscripts]

Well, the post asking about this got way more likes than I thought, So here is the first of a serious of vocabulary lists for The Man Who Laughs by Victor Hugo. This is for the first preliminary Chapter : Ursus  A warning that this is based off of my specific novel, and notes so I may have missed some things. If anyone wants to be tagged in any future lists, just let me know (: I will try and post for the next chapter tomorrow.

* Note, Phrases marked w/ a *  are Latin translations and should be taken w/ a grain of salt, as I do not speak nor understand Latin, and it was all translated through digital means which can be less than reliable*

Part I

Tallied - Correspond or match

Fêtes - Festival

Misanthrope -  Person who dislikes humankind and avoids human society

Engastrimythos -  (Literally belly-talker)  ventriloquists who disguised their           

                              voices and made mantic utterances

Buffon - French Naturalist

Menagerie - - Place where animals are kepts

Sagacious - Having keen mental discernment and good judgment (Clever)

Impudence - Being Cheeky

Avow - Declare Assuredly

Simples -  Medicinal Herb, or made from them

Phthisis - Progressively wasting or consumptive condition

Purgative - Purging Medicine

Emetic - Agent which induces vomiting

Excrescence - An outgrowth, usually unwanted

Rush - Specific variety of tufted marsh plant

Retort - Vessel or chamber in which substances are distilled by heat

Panaceas - Cure-Alls

Savent - Third person plural present of Savior

Hippocratized - Pertaining to Hippocrates 

Pindarized -  In the Pindaric style - Imitative of Pindar

Vied - Wager/Hazard

Bombast - Pretentious or inflated speech

Rapin - Paul de Rapin - French Historian, wrote History of England

Vida - Marco Girolamo Vida - Poet, Wrote a lot of latin poetry

Father Bouhours - Dominique Bohours, French-Jesuit priest, essayist, 

                              grammarian and  neo-classical critic

Gammarrian- Study of linguistics

Dactyl - A metric foot consisting of one long, and two short syllables 

                (Ex. Tenderly)

Anapast - Two short syllables and one long ( A dactyl Reversed)

Amphimacer - Pattern of A long syllable, then a shot one, then another long

Expectoration - Act of ejecting phlegm or mucus from the lungs

Epiphonema - A sentence that is an exclamation, a striking comment or 

                      succinct summary

Eclogue - A poem in which shepherds converse

Harangue -  Speech addressed to public assembly

Declaimed - Speak Rhetorically

Allocutions - An authoritative or hortatary (sermon) address

Sepal - One of the modified leaves comprising a calyx (Green outer circle of 

             a flower)

Stamen - A spore bearing leaf that develops microspore of a seed plant

Carpal -  an ovale bearing structure in a type of angiosperm ( a type of 

                vascular plant)

Ovule - Outgrowth of an ovary of a seed plant, that develops megaspores

Theca - An enveloping sheath

Apothecium - Spore bearing structure in many lichens (Algee) and fungi

Fatuous - inanely foolish

Mountebank - Person who sells quack medicines from a platform

Infirmity - Physical or mental weakness

Galen - Aelius Galenus or Claudius Galenus,  a physician, surgeon and 

                  philosopher in the roman empire

Cardan - Gerolamo Cardano, a mathematician, physician, biologist,

                       physicist, chemist, astrologer, astronomer, philosopher, writer,

                        and gambler during the renaissance

Sumptuous - Extremely Costly and luxurious

Violoncello - Just the fancy word for Cello

Amicably - Characterized by friendly goodwill

Palliative - easing the symptoms without curing the problem

Loquacity - State of being very talkative

Charlatan - Quack, fraud

Irascibility - Hot tempered, easily provoked

Part II

Lycaon - Greek Myth, king who tried to trick zeus into eating human flesh, and 

                  was turned into a wolf

Askance - Look of suspicion or disapproval

Koupara - Crab-dog, a crab eating raccoon 

 (Canus ferus - Which just means wild dog??)

{This was a bit of a google search hole, tho not as bad as when I was trying to   find ‘Dog of chili’}

Repugnance - Being contradictory or inconsistent

Frontispiece - Decorated front of a building (think those intricate triangles at 

                        the front of ancient greek temples)

Assize - Judges of civil and criminal cases in the superior courts of england

Part III

Coronet - smaller crown, signifies rank lower than sovereign

Circlet - little circle, or circular ornament

Puissant - Powerful

*Concilium et Curia - Council and the court

*Cæteris Filibus aliundé satisfactis - The other daughter shall suffice ( Literally 

                     other daughter source of fulfillment, but that doesn't make sense…)

*De minuto Vario - With little complicated

Ermine - White fur, usually weasel

Inviolable - secure from violation or profanation

Durance - Restraint by physical force

Supplicavit -  A writ issued by the King's Bench or Chancery for taking the surety

                        of the peace against a person.

Amerced - To punish by fine whose amount is fixed by the court

Assay - Test of Purity

Motley - Variety of colour

Matchless - Unable to be equaled, incomparable

Stannaries - Tin mines, usually in cornwall or devon

Surmounted - To prevail, or surpass in quality

*Honi soit qui mal y pense - May he be shamed who thinks badley

Cupolas - Small structure built on top of a roof

Pepper-boxes - a type of two barreled gun ( Couldn't find any building 

                       references)

Lozenge - A figure with four equal sides, two acute angles, and two obtuse 

                   angles (Diamond) 

Embattled - Ready to fight

Sweep - Broad unbroken area

Belfried - Having a belltower/Belfry

Bastion - projecting part of a fortification

*Virtus ariete fortior - Virtue is stronger than a battering ram

Chattels - an item of tangible movable or immovable property except real-estate

Part IV

Approbation - Commendation, praise

Philtres - Potions created with magic

Phials - Vials

Mummaries

 - Ridiculous, hypocritical or pretentious ceremony or performance

-Performance by Mummers (A performer in pantomime, or one who goes merry making in disguise)

*Tête-a-Tête - literally Head to head - A private conversation between two people

Caribbee- Designating the islands of the Caribbean

Bluster - To be windy or boisterous

Superposition - placement of one thing on top of another

Chastisement - censure severely, or inflict punishment

Cordials - Stimulating Medicine or Drink

Penal - Pf or relating to Punishment

Ok and that is it, feel free to ask if you have any questions, I did the best I could, but it is not going to be perfect 

[mobius-prime]

1. Sonic Miniseries #0

Table of Contents / Next

Don’t Cry for Me, Mobius!

Writer: Michael Gallagher Pencils: Scott Shaw! Colors: Barry Grossman

Ah, the very first story, in the very first issue, of the very first era. This is where it all began, folks. And it’s as generic as it can possibly be. I mean, the comics weren’t intended at this point to become the dramatic, emotional journey through the longest running video game comic ever that they ended up being – this was just the initial miniseries after all – so it’s not exactly unexpected. They did need a stage-setter beginning episode, after all. That said, boy is this the most 90s thing I’ve ever seen.

So, a few important things to note first. I'm listing the writer, penciller, and colorist for each story in each issue, because I find all to be particularly significant. You can clearly see the direction of the comics' storylines change drastically as time goes on depending on who the main writer is, and as for the pencils and colors, the art style of the comics also went through very significant changes as well as some pretty clearly defined "eras" over time, and since I find the different art styles interesting to note, we'll be noting who the main artists are. Here, we begin with Michael Gallagher, who was the head writer at the beginning of the comics' run; our penciller is the apparently very excited Scott Shaw!; and finally, Barry Grossman is our colorist, and remains so for a long time in the early eras.

Anyway, we begin with a very typical encounter between Sonic and Robotnik at the beginning of this story. Robotnik chases Sonic, Sonic throws weapons-grade 90s sass like none other, we get some establishing dialogue that tells us a little bit about what the current situation between them is, meet a villainous goon… the works. Robotnik is using the Mega Muck that made its first appearance in SatAM, which I’m sure has inspired absolutely zero fetishists to do any weird Sonic art in the back corners of DeviantArt. They also do that thing that comics do where the characters just kind of explain exactly what’s happening on panel as it happens:

It should also be noted that in this first issue, Robotnik has normal human eyes. That wouldn’t really be noteworthy on its own until you see what he starts looking like later. *shudder*

We see the beginning of Antoine and Sonic’s rivalry in this first, rather silly story. Sonic also likes to break the fourth wall quite a bit in these early issues, speaking directly to the reader and often encouraging them to interact with the panels by placing their finger here or there. Pretty cute for a kids’ comic, but they dropped that gimmick early.

As this is the first issue, many characters’ designs aren’t finalized. Rotor is called “Boomer” in the early issues, Antoine is missing his trademark French accent, and Tails and Sally look almost unrecognizable from who they became over the course of the comics:

The plotline of this first story is very simple and pretty much a stage-setter for how the issues are going to go down. The Freedom Fighters discover a leak in their base, which comes from the trees crying because Robotnik bulldozed a lot of them. (Weeping willows, is the joke.) They go up to investigate, Robotnik attacks, Sonic defeats him with the power of a magic ring, and they save the day. Doesn’t have much impact on the overarching story of the entire run of the preboot, but I include these early issues for a very specific and important reason which I’ll be getting into much later in the story.

Oh No – Robo! No Mo’ Mobo!

Writer: Michael Gallagher Pencils: Scott Shaw! Colors: Barry Grossman

First of all, can I say that that title is absolutely hilarious. I don’t care how cheesy it is – that’s genuinely clever and funny.

So, this is where the comic lays out the backstory of everything it’s shown so far. A lot of this actually ended up getting retconned, but it still offers a lot of insight, especially into how Sonic himself viewed Robotnik’s takeover. He and his Uncle Chuck ran a chili dog delivery stand, until Robotnik staged his takeover of the world. Interestingly, there is no grand moment of takeover shown – rather, it makes it seem like Robotnik had been spreading his sphere of influence for a while, until it finally overlapped with where Sonic and his uncle lived. Uncle Chuck and Sonic’s dog Muttski were captured and roboticized, and Sonic met Sally for the first time as he tried to stage a rescue. From there – well, I’ll let the final few panels do the talking for me:

Again, a lot of this was retconned in later issues, but I will still include it all in the analysis as though it’s canon, for reasons that will eventually be explained.

A few more interesting things to note: first of all, we learn that Sonic’s middle name is Maurice. This is obviously very important because it’s hilarious. It wasn’t even retconned either, this is canon information about Archie Sonic.

Second of all, we get our very first hint at something very important to the plot of later issues. When Robotnik shows up to capture Chuck, Chuck clearly recognizes him. This isn’t elaborated on, yet. Emphasis on yet.

And finally, in this very first issue we get our first look at Sonic shedding tears. This might not seem significant, especially given the goofy nature of all the events surrounding it, but Sonic as a character has almost never, in any canon he’s been in, cried. He cries I think only once in the anime, which a great deal of emphasis is put on as a shocking and unusual event, and never cries, to my knowledge, in any of the games. He’s meant to be an incredibly strong of heart character, who never gives into despair, and yet here he is, crying over the loss of his uncle. This is something SEGA put strict limits on in much later issues, when they started taking more interest in keeping the plot and characters of the comics in line with their vision, so it’s pretty significant to note, I think.

As a side note, I decided for funsies to check how much money Uncle Chuck and Sonic were charging for their chili dogs. They made 200 of them and Sonic wants $300 in payment, which means on Mobius, a freshly made and instantaneously delivered chili dog costs a whopping $1.50. Can you freaking imagine? Every person on the planet would be subsisting on those things for that price. World hunger would be solved. At least for those who are willing to eat intestine-wrapped processed junk meat. (I kind of hate hot dogs, sue me.)

Well, so marks the end of the very first issue of the entire Sonic Archie preboot. While there wasn’t much plot to speak of, there were some interesting little tidbits in there. Writer Ian Flynn in particular, in the later years of the comic, loved to bring back ancient characters and concepts from the very first few issues to star in new and improved, and much more serious, roles, so we still have a lot of ground to cover here.

[surveysonfleek]

1533.

[Family]

My brother’s name starts with D. Neither of my grandfathers are alive. I look more like my mother than my father. Both my parents are in a serious relationship. I am the youngest of three children. I am the only girl. My mom’s mom is NOT your typical grandmother. I don’t really like my cousins. I have less than five cousins. I’ve shown up at a family party while under the influence.

[Religion & Politics]

I was raised Christian. But I’m no longer a Christian. I believe in God. But I think the Bible is bullshit. My beliefs aren’t influenced by people around me. My dad is religious. My mom tries to be, but who is she trying to fool? I hate church. I wouldn’t have voted in the last election even if I was old enough. I hate politics more than anything.

[Food]

I honestly never stop eating. Chocolate + peanut butter = orgasmic. I only eat Cains mayonnaise. I’ve never eaten a fruit I didn’t like. I love cooked broccoli but not raw broccoli. I love raw peppers but not cooked peppers. I’ve gone a day or more without eating. I crave chocolate on my period. Pizza Hut has the best pizza around.  Cookies & Cream ice cream is one of my favorites.

[Sex, Love & Relationships]

I’ve been told that I was a nine out of ten at giving head. A guy has cheated on his girlfriend with me. I’ve never been cheated on. I had my first kiss when I was fifteen. I lost my virginity in the woods. My best friend lost her virginity a week after me. In the same place I did. I’ve been in the same room as someone having sex. I would rather be on the bottom.

[Music]

I download my music from LimeWire. I love country. I love old school rap. I love alternative. I have All Time Low’s new CD Nothing Personal.  And I love it. I love to sing, but I suck horribly at it. I cannot play a musical instrument. I want to learn to play the drums. I used to take piano lessons.

[School]

My GPA is between 2.0 and 3.0. I took Algebra 1 in 8th grade, and again in 9th. I’ve passed a class with a D-. I don’t do my homework at home. I prefer mechanical pencils. I always do projects the night before they’re due. I’m really smart but don’t always apply myself. I text in school. I’ve gotten my phone taken away in school.

[Beauty & Hygiene]

I straighten my hair often. On lazy days, I scrunch my hair to go out. My only make-up necessity is mascara. I like to wing my eyeliner. I’d rather take a shower than a bath. I’d rather use body wash than a bar of soap. I’d rather use a bath scrunchie than a washcloth. My solution for make-up on lazy days: sunglasses. I use the same routine every day in the shower.

[Smoking, Drinking & Drugs]

I smoke cigarettes. I’ve gotten drunk within the past month. I’ve smoked weed when by myself. The first time I got high was on a holiday. Marijuana should be legalized. I have never and would never drink and drive. I hate light beer. My lighter is purple. My favorite cigarettes are Turkish Silver or Camel Crush. I’ve quit smoking but started again.

[Random]

My nails are pink right now. Going to bed at midnight is very early for me. I could never date a guy that didn’t make me laugh. I have a jar of peanut butter in my room right now. I wear sunglasses a lot. Gogurt is really good in the freezer. I’ve been in Hollister, but I don’t own anything from there. Purple is my favorite color. There is no such thing as an ugly color. I need more pens. ______________________________________________________________

I like where I’m at right now. My feet are freezing. I hate feeling awkward. I love driving on country roads. I love driving fast, too. I currently have a cold. I have a crush. No, it’s more than a crush. I always wondered what it’d be like to start over, where no one knew me. I go on Yahoo Answers. I get nostalgic every once in awhile. I really don’t like my father. My mother is one of my best friends though. I don’t mind when people stare at me. No, it’s annoying as fuck. I can’t stand people who are extremely selfish. A Change Of Pace is a good band. I have gotten a new phone within the past month. I want to go to Florida soon. Peach snapple iced tea is theee best. I wrote books when I was younger. I’m really creative, especially when I apply myself. I use Facebook a lot more than I used to. I’m constantly told I’m beautiful, but I still sometimes don’t believe it. One of my friends came out as gay this year. I feel like I’m the only one who doesn’t have someone. I’m way too quiet, and I wish I could change. I need to party. Music and books are my favorite. I love everything about the fall. I always smell really good. My hair looks nice today. I have long fingernails. I’ve kissed a Ryan, Mike, or Justin. I’ve been in love with a Josh, Christian, or Scott. I envy no one. I’m going to an amusement park soon. For a halloween-related thing. I don’t like beer. I don’t like soda. I’ve worn a turtle neck in the past year. I wear them often. Outspoken is something I’m not. I express myself through quotes and lyrics. Photography is beautiful. There’s beauty in everything, you just gotta find it. I ordered a pizza recently. Tonight, actually. I wish I could have a whole new batch of friends. Even though I do love the ones I have now. My nose is stuffy. I like orange juice. And sandwich wraps. I love cozy nights at home. I like playing Hebi. Apples to Apples is fun. I have to start applying for jobs. I really need one. Ahhh life is changing fast.  I tend to drive a little bit over the speed limit.

My razor only has two blades. My keyboard is black. I use my friends as arm rests and pillows. My favorite number is odd. My favorite number is a single digit. I love having butterflies in my stomach. The last make up I wore was eyeliner. I’d love to have a winter wedding. I’m really ticklish. I have a facial piercing. I’d only get a tattoo that has significant meaning to me. My boyfriend is taller than I am. My school has a shitty football team. I play Pet Society on Facebook. All politicians are the same, in my opinion. I can’t eat sushi with a fork or else it feels awkward. I’ve never been to New Mexico. I’d definitely consider adoption if I couldn’t have my own children. I like plain-colored t-shirts. Horror movies don’t really scare me. I have a decent vocabulary. Lord of the Rings doesn’t appeal to me. I don’t play any sports. I prefer orange juice to apple juice. I like my toast with butter and jelly. I love cream cheese. I have a celebrity crush. I get frequent headaches. I can play a little piano. My boyfriend drives an Asian car. And so do I. I WANT MORE PIERCINGS. My favorite fruit is a type of berry. I miss somebody right now. Some of my friends live far away. I can burp out the alphabet. I love breadsticks. I can count to ten in at least two languages. I’d love to have a pet owl. I prefer dogs to cats. I only wear actual perfume on special occasions. But I wear body spray on a daily basis. I have pictures of my sibling/s on my phone. ______________________________________________________________

What I have…

Purse/bag Notepad | Altoids | Advil | Wallet | Book | Pencil pouch | Gloves | Earphones | Camera film | Eraser | Pens | Trash | Button | Spare change | Ticket stubs | Tea bag | Plastic spoon

Closet Cardigans | Sweaters | Jackets | T-shirts | Coats | Tank tops | Button-up shirts | Shoe hanger/caddy | Vans | Hiking shoes/boots | Oxfords | Heels | Shoeboxes with misc. things | Nail polish | Keepsakes | Costume stuff from previous Halloweens | Yarn | Looms for knitting | Backpack for backpacking | School backpacks | Old computer | Photo prints | Video games | Stuff I need to sell | Oil heater

Bedside Drawer Pills | Coins | Jewelry | Diary | Hairbands | Hair clips | Bobby pins | Comb | Notepads | Chargers | Lighters | Book marks | Light bulbs | Pencils | A pack of playing cards | Pencil lead | An old birthday card | Earphones | Passport | Miscellaneous screws

DVD Shelf (I have torrents, so I’ll base this off of that.) 28 Days Later | Amélie | Blade Runner | Catch Me If You Can | A Clockwork Orange | The Darjeeling Limited | District 9 | Doctor Zhivago | Donnie Darko | Ed Wood | Edward Scissorhands | Everything is Illuminated | Fright Night | Full Metal Jacket | The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly | The Harry Potter series | In Bruges | Inception |Jurassic Park | The King’s Speech | Lolita | The Nightmare Before Christmas | Run Fatboy Run | Snatch | Sweeney Todd | The Truman Show | Wall-E | Doctor Who | Pushing Daisies | True Blood

Yard A sad, sad lawn | My car | Shed | Flower pots | Garden | Barbecue | Chicken pen (with chickens) | Wood shed | Trees | Rose bushes | Dandelions | Daffodils | Tractor | Gravel | Pathways | Bed for my kitty | An old truck | Bushes

iTunes AC/DC | ADELE | Amy Winehouse | Arcade Fire | Arctic Monkeys | The Beatles | Beck| Beyoncé | Billy Idol | The Black Keys | Canned Heat | Cyndi Lauper | Daft Punk | The Dead Weather | Dropkick Murphys | Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeroes | Ellie Goulding | Feist | Fiona Apple | Fleetwood Mac | Imagine Dragons | Jack White | Jimi Hendrix | The Kills | Lady Gaga | Lily Allen | Macklemore | Marina & The Diamonds | Mew | Nirvana | Pink Floyd | Portugal. The Man | Queen | Rage Against the Machine | Red Hot Chili Peppers | Rihanna | Sea Wolf | Simon & Garfunkel | St. Vincent | Tears for Fears | Tegan & Sara | Tool | Vampire Weekend | Weezer | The White Stripes | Yeah Yeah Yeahs | ZZ Top

[bobbystompy]

68 Quotes I Enjoyed From 2019

Below are my favorite quotes from 2019. Though most occurred throughout the year, some took place before but were encountered during.

1) “I don’t bitch about Millenials.

John Entwistle once complained that he didn’t understand rap. Pete Townsend said, ‘It’s not our job to understand it. It’s our job to get the fuck out of the way.’

New generations come of age. The older generation’s job is to shut up and adapt.” - @danagould

2) “I can’t do drugs with you until we kiss.”

3) “If you pay me $50 I'll show up to your funeral but stand really far away, holding a black umbrella regardless of the weather, so that people think you died with a dark and interesting secret.” - @DanaSchwartzzz

4) “A human being is a dangerous thing to let loose in a room with itself, when it cannot think.” - Roger Ebert

5) “There are no bad bourbons, only better bourbons.” - Dave Hernandez

6) “You can’t put a dollar in a kimono.”

7) “This is how it was.” - rampant takeaway from watching ‘Superbad’ several years after its release

8) “What if I had been born fifty years before you in a house on the street where you lived / Maybe I’d be outside as you passed on your bike / Would I know? / And in a wide sea of eyes, I see one pair that I recognize” - Ben Folds, ‘The Luckiest’

9) “Learn the rules so you can break them.”

10) “Nobody makes chili for two.” - Stacy Massey

11) “‘Best city in the world,’ I mutter to myself, as i adjust my ‘driving blanket’.” - Chicago resident Deanna Belos, during the 2019 Polar Vortex

12) “Dude, no one’s ever got arrested for listening to Counting Crows.” - Ricky O’Donnell, justifying late night music volume at his party

13) Bill Belichick: We’re going to have fun tonight. Rob Gronkowski: Yes we are. We deserve it. Belichick: You’re damn right. Gronk: I haven’t stepped out in like eight months. I gotta step out tonight. Belichick: I’m with you, man. I’m even going to step out. Gronk: Oh, I like it!

A Super Bowl winning exchange.

14) Center David Andrews thanked Bill Belichick for giving him "a shot".

Belichick disagreed with it.

Andrews: Thank you for giving me a shot. Belichick: A shot? I didn't give you shit. You earned it! I don't give anything.

Another Super Bowl winning exchange.

15) “We elected one of the very worst living human beings to be President, and it's exhausting. Each and every day, it's an exhausting slog, just to exist in a world where that's true.” - Michael Schur

16) “Some of y’all always picked Odd Job when you played Goldeneye and it shows” - @thedad

17) “Any app is a dating app if you try hard enough.” - Z.W. Martin (though he says it’s lifted)

18) "Once you're as woke as I am, you learn to feel bad all the time.”

19) “Everything’s a balance beam when you’re 90.” - John Dingell

20) [I wake up in a world where The Beatles never existed]

Me: Check out this song I just wrote

[I begin playing “Ob La Di Ob La Da” without having first built up years of goodwill]

Crowd of people: Wow, this sucks ass

-- @seanoneal

21) “People change people.” - Corey Matthews, Girl Meets World

22) “The easiest thing to do on earth is not write.” - William Goldman

23) “Dan could be like a difficult uncle. I didn’t love his fire-breathing conservative politics. I didn’t love the transformation that came over his novels. In Semi-Tough, he created two benighted Texas jocks and laid their prejudices bare. He was declaring himself a member of the Mark Twain coaching tree. In later books, Dan seemed to be trying to prove he could still tell a racist joke. He insisted that his memoir—the last truly immaculate piece of writing he delivered—include a tirade against political correctness. When his editor said people might be offended, Dan said, ‘Fuck people.’

There are certain writers whose style you pilfer. Certain writers whose moral fiber you try to inherit. For me, Dan represented a third category: a writer whose aura you replicate—or, failing that, try to stand in for a while.” - Bryan Curtis, on Dan Jenkins

24) “Never marry anything. Never choose. Even in love, it's better to be chosen.” - La Dolce Vita

25) “An uncluttered, uncomplicated happy ending might sound wonderful, but it’s hardly ever satisfying. Because the value of great stories lies in the tension between desire and need, between the yearning for the ideal, and the unshakable conviction that ideals don’t really exist, at least not the way we want them to. A great story should hurt a little when it leaves us. There should be some hope, but that hope should remain somewhere just an inch beyond our fingers, because that’s the truth. Even if you had all the perfect moments in the world, you’d still be reaching.” - Zach Handlen, on the Futurama series finale

26) “You can’t see him because he has sunglasses on.” - Alissa Levy

27) “The cinema is the greatest art form ever conceived for generating emotions in its audience. That's what it does best. (If you argue instead for dance or music, drama or painting, I will reply that the cinema incorporates all of these arts).” - Roger Ebert

28) “‘Are you gonna let politics ruin a friendship?’ 

Yes tf I am

People talk about politics as if it’s this isolated, abstract concept that only matters at election time. Somebody’s politics is their world view. It’s whether they think certain human beings deserve rights. It’s how they think the world should be. And if somebody thinks that the world should be colder, meaner, less accepting and downright hostile to people that are different to them, then sure as fuck is the friendship over.”

29) “Can the Supreme Court get me mushrooms?” - J-Papp

30) “Any song under two minutes already has a head start on its way into my heart. Just scream at me and then leave me.” - Drew Magary

31) “Long neck cold beers never broke my heart.” - Clemson Tom

32) “I’d just like to point out that the last spoken words of Game of Thrones were: 

‘I once brought a jackass and a honeycomb into a brothel.’”

- @Authoroux

33) “Just once before I die, I want to toss my keys to someone and tell them ‘Bring the car around’.” - Mike Skully

34) “For all the weight they're given, last words are usually as significant as first words.” - Grand Maester Pycelle, Game of Thrones

35) “The best remedy for unrequited love is a trip around the world.” - Cheers

36) [on switching from a hotel to a motel]

Manny: I don't like the sound of that. A lot of amenities disappear when an H turns into an M. Jay: Hey when I met you, you were eating cereal out of a bucket.

-- Modern Family

37) “You and Lindsey don’t want to be ‘estranged’. Estranged is the relationship we want to have with our mothers.” - MegFil

38) “Cigarettes are undefeated.”

39) “My toes are like my fingers on my feet. I can pick stuff up with them.” - Tracy Cunningham

40) “Republicans govern without shame, Democrats shame without governing.” - Bill Maher

41) Sam: I don’t understand the vagaries of the Internet Josiah: Post often, without thought, and you’ll either get cancelled or cancel someone else.

-- Blink-155

42) “Hang a lantern on your problems.”

43) “What a weird web we weave.” - The Situation, The Jersey Shore: Family Vacation

44) “Let the ocean worry about being blue.” - Alabama Shakes, ‘Hang Loose’

45) “Honesty without tact is cruelty.” - Shelley Rokos

46) “My whole life is the wrong porn link.”

47) “One parent can take care of 10 kids, but 10 kids cannot take care of one parent.” - Joe Gestetner, via “an old Yiddish saying”

48) “There are no heroes in the room.” - Classics of Love, ‘Gun Show’

49) “If I am a little dismissive, it's only because of my harrowing backstory.” - Mitchell, Modern Family (on why he doesn't like sports)

50) “Every time I’m wearing black, I meet a dog.” - Tracy Cunningham

51) “Shower sex? Why would I fuck in my crying chamber” - @chridollarsign

52) “My theory about quarterbacks, having written about some of them, is you either have to believe in god or think you are a god.” - Mina Kimes

53) “The contradictions of capitalism always manifest in our lyrics if you look deeply.” - Blake Schwarzenbach of Jawbreaker, Riot Fest 2019

54) “Got a ‘hang loose’ from the weakside bartender.”

55) “It’s Jennifer’s birthday always.” - Eric Hutchinson 

56) “I can’t think of a less relevant artist in 2019 than Kanye West. A Jesus freak in a MAGA hat. Yeah, congrats dude -- you’re every grandma who watches ‘Young Sheldon’ and mails checks to Joel Osteen now.” - Dan Ozzi

57) “The past and future are in the mind. I’m in the now.” - Tom Brady, via someone else

58) “Sometimes you walk around boring places and you feel like the most exciting thing in it.” - Drew Magary

59) “Sitting is the new smoking.” - Modern Family

60) “I'll straight up fight folks at a book club and discuss books at a fight club I really don't give a shit anymore.” - George Wallace

61) “Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines.” - Rose Garvey via wine country

62) “It’s all ‘ok boomer’ until you need someone who can drive stick shift.” - @OrdinaryAlso

63) “He likes the result of the math.” - Dad, talking about my worst subject frustrating during the process but satisfying in the end

64) Stepmom: Do you want a Bears urn or Alabama urn? Dad: Ask me after they play Auburn.

65) “A cold body carries a warm heart.” - Stefanos Tsitsipas’ Instagram, after his Iceland sabbatical

66) [preparing a dish called the Sandwich of Justice with his friend’s recipe]

"The fun thing about it is when you give it to someone, you can say 'Justice is served.’ That's, uh, Ryan's line. I built my whole life on the backs of my friends." - You Suck At Cooking

67) “Usually three people can keep a secret only when two of them are dead.” - The Irishman

68) “An artist can't control who consumes their content any more than a chemist can control how their chemicals are used once they're created.” - Brian Crooks

[moramew]

Do you got any tips for first time apartment renters/people living on their for the first time?

Sure, nonny. I can’t promise it’s a comprehensive list or anything, but I’ll try to be of help!

⚪Make sure you understand your lease. If there’s any confusion, ask questions before you sign. You don’t want to sign and then realize there’s a note in it that clashes against something you want to do. I’ve rented from landlords that don’t allow you to hang up stuff on the walls, ones that are strictly no smoking, ones that contract certain plumbers/insect controller (or whatever the word is for it), etc. Make sure you understand everything before you sign

On that note, make sure your landlord is someone you’ll get along with too. Mine is super strict- there’s a $50 late fee if you don’t pay within three days of when rent is due on top of $5 every day after- but that makes sure I don’t get lazy and I keep a better eye on my finances/due dates for bills and everything. If you’re talking to a landlord and they seem too uptight or too apathetic or whatever, then find someone else. Please trust me when I say it’s not worth it to be locked into a lease with a shitty landlord that will make your life miserable

Ditto with neighbors. Absolutely make sure to ask your landlord about them if you’re going to live next to someone. Questions like if they’re a family, loud, older or younger, if they’re home more often than not, etc are important. You want to make sure you’re not going to get stuck next to someone that blares their tv all night if you work early morning shifts. 

⚪Have at least double the rent in savings, plus money for utilities and buying basic things for the home as well as groceries. Moving is fucking expensive- more than you think it is, usually. Research before you even go to look at apartments- how much utilities will cost (I had to pay a $240 deposit just to get it turned on), the cost of moving supplies, how much trash collection will be, etc. Make a budget. Make sure you have enough money plus extra before you even think of looking at a place. You don’t want to be miserable and broke after moving in

Don’t try to buy everything at once. If you can, try to get your utilities turned on a day or two before moving in. Those are hella important. After that, I’d concentrate on essentials- food and kitchen supplies, washer and dryer, cleaning supplies, etc. Once you have those, then I’d build up. (That’s what I’m doing at least) If you can wait on Internet, do it. If you can wait to get a couch, do it. You don’t have to everything at once. It’s not a race. Moving is expensive and it takes time. Your apartment will get to where it needs to be, I promise. Just be patient.

Walmart has spatulas and stuff for 88 cents (at least where I live). Take advantage of that- you can always get prettier ones later on.

Family Dollar is your friend. Literally everything is a dollar and you can stock up on basic supplies there. I find it helpful for, like, storage containers and stuff like that

Ask your family and friends if they have spares of kitchen stuff; coffee pot, skillets, mixing bowls, etc. Sometimes they do and that can save you money. If you want, you can always replace them later down the line.

⚪Using the oven will make your utility bill higher. Small appliances like crockpots, roaster ovens, microwaves, electric skillets are helpful and good investments. If anything, at least get a crockpot. They’re so useful and great for when you’re too busy to cook/too depressed/too tired. You literally just dump food in it and let it cook for a few hours and then boom! Food. You might have to brown meat for things like chili, but it’s not hard

⚪Learn to cook. It’s cheaper than take out, usually healthier, and you can always eat the leftovers. It can give a sense of accomplishment, too, and there’s a nice satisfaction that comes with trying a new recipe and it turning out well. We all love pizza rolls and Chinese take out, but you got to think of your health. Treat yourself to take out when you can afford it, but don’t get it every other day

Make sure to get: flour, sugar, spices, condiments, vegetable oil, cornstarch, baking soda, milk, butter, and eggs.

Check out the discount food section at your grocery stores. At my Walmart, there’s a small shelf section in the aisle where they sell beans and stuff. There’s usually a cluster of dented cans that’s half off because, well, they’re dented. I snag these for crockpot fixings. There’s literally nothing wrong with them except for the cans being dented- unlearn the basic recoil you might have toward that sort of thing. Of course, check the use by date and all that. But you should be doing that with your groceries anyway

⚪If you smoke, try to do it outside. Like, I know. It’s convenient to smoke inside and it’s your apartment so, uh, fuck me. Or whatever. But, cigarettes do leave a gross odor behind and can cling to your clothes, curtains, whatever. You might not be able to smell it, but other people will. Stepping outside for five minutes or even cracking open a window can help avoid any gross odors. Plus, your landlord might not be happy if they come over and your place reeks of smoke- it’ll make it harder for them to rent it after you move out

On the note of odors, try to look for deals on candles. Michaels usually has a 3 for 10 sale on candles- I just got three that smells like pine needles- and Walmart has them for like...3-5$ with their Mainstay brand. Tart warmers are a good investment, too. They can make for a good Christmas present- if any of your family is asking what you want, you can tell them that.

Also take out your trash as soon as you can if possible. Clean your trash cans, too. I wipe mine down like once a week because it’s white and can quickly look gross, but I’ll only do a full clean about once a month.

⚪If your lease doesn’t allow pets, don’t try to sneak one in. This is self-explanatory. I know it can suck- I want a dog, badly- but if your landlord finds out, there will be hell to pay. You might even get kicked out. It’s not worth it.

⚪Buy fun things. A shower curtain with cacti on it, dish towels with pawprints, a pink chair, neon coffee mugs- if you want it, get it. Obviously make sure it won’t hit your savings too hard but, like, it’s your place. Let yourself have things that you want. Take this opportunity to flaunt your style and aesthetic. You don’t have parents to choose everything that they want, you don’t have to compromise with a roommate. It’s your home- decorate how you want.

⚪Make a back up door key. Just in case, you know. We can all be forgetful. Stick it in your car or your purse or wherever- you don’t have a roommate to let you in, calling a locksmith is expensive, and calling your landlord just for that isn’t always a pleasant or convenient experience.

⚪Get a house plant. Not necessary, but they look nice and are pretty neat.

⚪Get a calendar and mark down when bills are due. You can use the one on your phone if you want, but I find it useful to get one you can stick on a fridge. It’s right there in your face and makes it a bit easier to be organized.

This is all I’ve got at the moment- I’m a little too headachey to go on.

But, like, most of it is common sense stuff. Don’t stress too much, take it slow, clean your apartment, pay your bills on time, and be nice to your neighbors.