#Mirror link not working Honda

[wheels-tips]

How To Reset Honda Infotainment Unit

How To Reset Honda Infotainment Unit

How to reset the Honda infotainment system if you have issues such as the screen going blank or freezing, connecting to Apple CarPlay, or not displaying anything. I had problems with my Honda head unit freezing, which the reset fixed. Other issues were the Honda navigation froze and did not work properly. Nothing should be connected to the infotainment system when performing the reset procedure.…

[8-dermestid]

it's like as if somebody was gripping my throat

relationship: eyeless jack x reader

word count: 6.2k

links: available to read on ao3

warnings: canon-typical violence

M. Eerie National Park is one of the most boring places to work. You hike the trails to make sure nobody is trying to stay after hours, clean up garbage, and befriend the local cryptid.

Nobody knows about that last part except for you.

(like/reblogs are greatly appreciated, requests are open ✷)

“—Shocking news for M. Eerie National Park. Another victim, twenty-one-year-old Penn State student Ryan Sheppard, discovered on the property—”

You dig into your food, tuning out the broadcast as you scarf down your lunch and prepare for work. You rinse your bowl, toss it into the dishwasher, and move into the bedroom to change out of your pajamas and into your uniform. You pull up your cargo pants and pull on a green collared shirt with the M. Eerie National Park logo embroidered on the pocket. After deodorant, you pull on your hiking boots, grab your jacket and bag, and leave towards your car.

She’s a beat-up old thing, but she gets you to and from work without too much trouble. It’s a short, red, rust-damaged Honda Civic. Your car’s engine is strong, and it, other than the external imperfections and duct-taped-on mirror, has treated you well, and you’ve never felt the need to trade up.

(Nor the want, being a park ranger hardly gives you enough money to keep your head above the water, but you love it, and working an office job sounds worse than pulling all your toenails out at once with rusty pliers.)

The car sputters to life, rumbling beneath you in her comfortable and familiar way. You look down at the radio—the clock reads 14:37—you’ll be on time for the start of your shift. The drive isn’t exciting, and you’d take your boring drive over a three-hour drive to the office any day. Your job is so easy, too, a simple routine you follow every day—go in during the afternoon, hike the trails before closing, watch for lost folks and garbage, and close up the park. It’s easy, so easy that your job is almost dull. You walk into the break room, your lunch in your non-dominant hand, and stumble into a meeting.

“Oh. Hey guys.” You hesitate, creeping over to put your food in the fridge. Usually, the break room was empty, and Leslie, your superior in the standard uniform with her beat-up clipboard, was marching back and forth like a drill sergeant.

In the kindest way possible, you hope she retires. She’s been working here for so long and managing everything that she deserves some R-and-R. Leslie is the backbone of the team, and one would have to pry her position from her cold, dead hands (even then, it would still be a fight), but she should consider passing the job to someone else.

You plop down in one of the three empty chairs. Two of your coworkers transferred to another park (quite suddenly, too, no two-week notice or anything). It’s not good, especially considering they were the only other people working your shift.

“Alright, we can wrap up this meeting with a quick problem,” Leslie begins again, waving quietly to you. “Guests have been reporting stolen items more than usual, lots of jackets, gloves, boots, ooh—food, too,” Leslie jots something down on her clipboard, “To be honest, I think people are just misplacing things and blaming it on the wildlife, but if you see anything, just radio me, and I’ll come to help you sort it out.”

You nod. People leave things where they shouldn’t be all the time—you can't count the number of times families wake up with ransacked coolers because they leave them outside unprotected.

Leslie sighs, “And—look—there have been more than a few teens sneaking off into the woods before we close. Please, I don’t want another 24-hour challenge incident on our record. Keep an eye out for them. I mean it.”

Everyone affirms, whether with a nod or a “Yes, Leslie.”

The team filters out of the break room, and one of your coworkers (with wild, dark hair and stickers nearly smothering the Molly on her nametag) bounds to your side like a deer.

“You think it’s a bear?” She asks. She’s practically bouncing off the walls despite Park Ranger being the least thrilling job on the planet.

You shrug. You don’t carry the same energy that Molly does. She is just a wee sixteen-year-old at your side working her first big girl job, and any excitement at this middle-of-nowhere park is a godsend for her.

“Well, it could be a bear. But, I mean, a bear wouldn’t be stealing men’s jackets or boots.” she suggests, “Maybe not a bear, or maybe it’s those kids again… Remember the kids from a few weeks ago?”

Oh. Oh, of course, you remember those kids. Three of them, two girls and some in-between kid, all seventeen and seniors at the local high school (local being the closest high school, which was thirty miles away) that Leslie caught trying to stay overnight for some silly internet challenge. One of them, the in-between kid with the flattest hair you’ve seen in a while, brought an Ouija board because of some weird internet gossip about your park. It was strange—super, duper weird—because the couple (apparently, maybe? You aren’t sure) ditched the third girl to make out under an abandoned deck. Leslie only caught them because the third (a taller, more heavyset girl with colored hair) was terrified of some tall, slender man who scared her on the internet.

“God, don’t remind me.” You finally say. You still remember the three of them yelling at each other, Leslie dragging them out by the collars of their shirts like scruffed cats after they got caught (because one of the girls was a crybaby, their words, not yours).

Leaving the break room and finally feeling the sun this morning, Molly waves you goodbye and starts jogging down her favorite trail. She’s got energy for miles; if she were older and wiser, she could compete with Leslie.

Speaking of, Leslie pats your shoulder. Her grey hair shimmers in the sun, and she, with wrinkles showcasing her long and fulfilling life, smiles down at you.

“Afternoon, kiddo. You doing alright?”

You nod, more focused on the heavy workload you have in front of you.

Leslie pats your back like a coach would to her favorite player, “I know Josh and Ryan quitting hasn’t been easy on you.” Her voice is too solemn for a work transfer, “I’ll be working tonight, too, if that eases you.”

You perk up, half with relief and half because working with Leslie is the best. It’s comforting to have a superior like her around when people start getting wild in the woods; she’s good at grabbing people by the scruff and dragging them out, kicking and hollering.

“You can take care of the Southern Reach, yeah? You’re a big kid—you can handle it.”

You’re more than just a kid, but between her being near retirement age while you are fresh out of college—you are a kid in her eyes. You nod, already unhooking your heavy flashlight from its carabiner.

“That’s the ticket. I’ll take Northern. We’ll meet back up here for closing.”

“No, no, I’ll handle closing.” You persuade, “Come on, Leslie, I can handle closing a big gate. Just handle Northern and go home.”

She debates it, rolling the idea around in her mind before conceding. “Alright, kiddo. Just this once, though.”

At first, with the sun just touching the horizon, your checks go well, and you clean up a few empty beer cans along the southernmost trails. Your trash bag is light, which is a plus. You don’t need to pull your flashlight out until past seven in the evening when the moon peeks out behind you. You find an empty can of soup (chicken-noodle but with star-shaped pasta instead of noodles). The top looks messily cut, as if with a knife, which isn’t at all uncommon.

Except, well, this can has a pull tab disregarded by the previous user. You turn over the can in your palm, examining the shredded metal and paper label, and toss it into the bag with the rest of the trash.

Further, closer to the center of the trails, there is another disemboweled can. You pick up one, the lid is also ripped off, the pull-tab forgotten about, yet this soup can has more than half of it ripped off into a swirly shape, almost like someone was desperate for something to eat. It’s Campbell’s, not Grandma’s cooking.

There’s another can further into the woods, more shredded than the last, with a deep dent in the center; the can was clean, too clean, which is both weird and disgusting. Dogs shouldn’t eat this stuff concentrated—too much sodium.

Another one; there is a streaky, black substance marbling with some soup still sitting at the bottom of the can; another, and more of that black slime. You carefully pick up each one and add it to the bag. The next can has more of that substance—almost too much. The smell is putrid. It burns inside your nose, and you get a whiff of formaldehyde or something that reeks of death.

You keep traveling into the woods, finding more debris and litter, an old chewed-through sleeve, a jacket, and a glove smattered with that syrup-y oil. There’s something wet beneath your palm, and thank the stars you chose to bring your gloves this morning. It’s red, with a black slime marbled in it. It’s sticky between your fingers, and it smells awful. You follow the trail of red and black with your flashlight.

The source is the mangled carcass of a hiker wearing a high-vis vest. You suck in a breath and reach for your walkie-talkie. It’s sickening, and you can’t stop looking at the body as you radio for your superior.

“Leslie? Leslie, you there?” You plead, hands shaking and mind racing. Of all the people you want to pick up, it’s her. She’s been working here since before you were born—maybe she’s found a mutilated person in her time working the trails.

The silence stretches for an eternity until you hear a familiar voice on the other end.

“Hey, I’m here. What’s going on?” She asks.

“Uhm, I don’t know,” You make the mistake of looking at it, at the remnants of a man, at the carcass before you. “I don’t even know what could do something like this.” God, it makes you sick, but you can’t look away.

“Come on, talk to me,” She barks, her voice firm with years of seniority, “What are you seeing? Talk.”

You swallow. “Some hiker got attacked. They’re not responsive,” You mutter into your little plastic lifeline. “I’m off Trapper’s—I don’t know—Christ, I’m going to be sick.”

“...Okay,” Leslie replies quickly, “Are you safe?”

You don’t know the answer to that question. You swallow a lump in your throat as you look frantically for movement in the dark woods. Leslie says something, but you can’t hear it over the sound of your heart hammering away in your ears. You see movement between the trees, the primal part of your brain attempting to identify any immediate danger. Everything is spinning, it reeks of death, and Leslie’s voice is staticky because of the shitty speakers.

“Answer me! Come on, kiddo, where are you?” She shouted, her voice laced with harsh static.

Your flashlight flickers, and you hope whoever ordered these flashlights has something horrible happen to them. Something rustles in the bush. The only thing you have to protect yourself is a bag of loose garbage and your shitty flashlight. Leslie is shouting so loud you can only hear half of her words. Whatever emerges from that bush will eat you alive—you’re sure of it.

The stench of death gets heavier as a figure crawls out from beneath the foliage, wearing a dark hoodie and a blue mask. There’s blood and guts caked under their fingernails, and they look filthy and smell worse. They lock eyes with you and try to stand, stumbling and letting out a near-inhuman cry. You hold your heavy flashlight like a baton—all it’s useful for, considering the lightbulb works when it wants to—as the masked stranger lets out a wheezy breath and crawls towards you.

You grip the flashlight so hard your hands are shaking, taking careful steps back to maintain some distance between both of you. Their approach doesn’t stop. They reach and grab at your leg and pull you to the ground. Your head is spinning as it collides with the damp earth, and you feel two hands digging into your abdomen, sharp nails scratching and attempting to burrow into your stomach. You shout as their ice-cold hands scrape across your body, their claws raking across tender flesh.

You thrash and try to push them away, but they hold you down with one hand and remove their mask with the other.

You always said you’d know what to do if you were in a slasher flick. You always called the protagonists stupid for freezing up in front of certain death, never thinking about what it felt like, knowing you were probably going to die. You look them in the eye—more so what’s left of them, staring into two tar-filled sockets where their eyes would be—and unable to do anything.

You lay back, each breath barely making it in and out of your lungs. They stop, hands still pressed firmly against you. They crane their neck, probably just as surprised as you for simply giving up. They tug your shirt back down, pressing a palm over it and smoothing the fabric with their palm.

It reignites something in you because before either of you can register what’s happening, they’re squealing in pain as you hit them upside the head with your flashlight. You scramble away, pulling yourself to your feet and running blindly to the main trail.

You don’t stop, even after the demonic cries die out under the sound of the beginning storm. You push and push yourself until you nearly collide with Leslie.

“Stars—! Kid, where the hell were you? What the hell happened to you?”

She shines the light across your face, then brushes a leaf from your coat. It’s hard to think about speaking; Leslie knows you’re trying.

“Hey, it’s okay. Come on, I’ll drive you home, kiddo.”

“But the—”

“Don’t worry about it,” She says as softly as she can, “You’ve done all you can do. Anything about you that I should be worried about?”

You pat your abdomen, a few lines of brown blood staining the front. You shake your head, and Leslie holds off on grilling you for details.

✷𓃞 ✷

She drives you home in her big pickup truck (she even went through a drive-thru and got you something to eat on the way home). She pats your back as you dig through the bottom of the bag for scraps.

“Don’t think about coming back tomorrow—Partly because you’ve been through hell tonight—but also because there’s going to be an investigation. Look—take it easy, maybe go see your doctor, don’t come back until at least next Tuesday.”

Leslie pulls over to the side of your street and pulls out a box of cigarettes. “I mean it, take it easy. You do enough work while you’re on the clock; don’t worry about anything—I have people that can cover your shift if you need more time off.”

You nod, gathering your things and walking towards your house, digging your keys from your jacket to escape the rainy weather. You shut the door behind you, and Leslie walks towards her truck, a thin line of smoke trailing behind her.

You open the door, and a warm puff of air welcomes you home. It’s quiet and dark, leaving you on edge from tonight’s incident. Instead of relaxing—like Leslie practically ordered you to—you drop your bag at the front door and book it to your computer. It hums to life, and you punch in your password and open your web browser. Surprisingly, being attacked by a person-shaped thing did not perturb your furious web-searching.

Creature in the woods near me

Masked creature, person that tried to eat me?

Blue man— you hastily hit backspace as Blue Man Group auto-fills in your search bar.

You keep trying outrageous combinations of words, eventually finding a near-defunct blog with a picture of the freaky humanoid that almost killed you.

EYELESS JACK. Well, the name fits. At least you’ve finally got a name for that face. You read through this article, which recounts this woman—a hiker-slash-rock-climber, to be more specific—coming into contact with a human-ish guy. They had a few photos of deep claw wounds that scarred over pale on her dark skin. You jot down the name, continuing to dig into the incident recounted by this woman.

You pause and close all your curtains and turn off all the lights (and you get yourself a drink to keep yourself awake). Sinking into your chair again, you continue the deep dive into this Eyeless Jack fellow, feeling like a detective from some once-popular show that wasn’t that good. You keep searching—jotting down leads for your search—until the sun is peeking over the horizon, and you can hardly keep your eyes open. Eyeless Jack has been around for longer than you first believed—they’ve probably been terrorizing after-dark visitors of your park for years, right under your nose.

Are there more missing-person cases? Did any of your coworkers who quit unexpectedly actually have a reason? God, this journey to the weirdest parts of the internet has left you with more questions than answers.

You look down at the big sticky-note pad you used for notes. It looks like you fell off the deep end with your feverish scrawling, smeared ink, and lots of quick notes about disembowelment, kidney removal, and even cult activity. You think this may need another night of internet excavation to answer those (and inevitably, come up with more, even crazier, questions). Based on a few accounts of unwanted kidney removal in their sleep, you think about getting something to eat—

—and staying as far from your bed as possible.

✷𓃞 ✷

You can’t even eat breakfast without being tempted by your thirst for knowledge; it’s unbearable. You don’t even want to think of spending more than a few days at home. Hopefully, the police hurry up and finish so you can start your investigation.

You quickly rinse and dry your empty dish, filling a glass of water and flopping onto the couch. Surfing channels and finding something mindlessly entertaining will probably take your mind off things.

The news is boring—talking about the recent storm off the southern coast—and some cooking show. A history documentary—about someone you don’t care for—a jewelry channel, another news channel, and a kids’ show.

(Tempting, but no.)

The local news, though not mindless, is entertaining. There’s an over-top camera view of the park. Dozens of police cruisers and K-9 units are parked—and you can see your car, your old, rusty girl in the lot—Cops are infesting every corner of your TV, some moving into the woods toward Trapper’s, others lingering to talk in the view of the helicopter. It cuts to a news anchor recapping the incident from last night. They think it’s a bear attack. Leslie says it was a bear attack. Your coworkers say it was a bear attack, and Wildlife Removal will deal with it.

They don’t know anything—Jack tore into that hiker like a wild animal—and left the poor guy’s insides all over the forest floor.

You don’t stop watching the news until they start talking about the weather, where you only half-listen. There’s going to be a storm tonight. The teams at your job are probably going to try to recover the body and bring it to the morgue before it starts raining.

You turn off the TV after that. You examine your abdomen, five short lines across your belly where their claws made contact. You decide to go to the bathroom to clean and dress them.

“Better to be safe than sorry.” You tell yourself.

After a few cotton balls soaked in alcohol and big bandaids later, everything is clean enough and about as well-dressed as you can, considering your supplies.

There’s not much to do at home, and trying to take your mind off things with your usual hobbies isn’t working. You even try scrolling mindlessly online, but you can’t stop thinking about last night.

Why did they stop—and so suddenly?

You lift your shirt and brush your thumb over the bandaids on your belly, the skin still too hot and tender. Maybe you were just lucky, stupidly lucky. You pick up your home phone and dial Leslie’s number. She at least deserves a warning about what’s out there.

“...What are you doing?”

“Leslie,” there’s some strain in your tone, “Hey, Leslie. How are things?”

“You’re calling about work? You’re supposed to be on vacation.”

Yes. Yes, you are.

“I know, but—Look, it’s about last night. I know you specifically told me not to do any digging, but—”

“Kid,” She cuts you off. You can picture her frustration as she probably rubs at her temples, “Tell me you did not do that.”

Yes. Yes, you did.

She sighs dramatically. “You work too hard—even when I order you to stop thinking about work, you do it anyway.”

“Look, it wasn’t an animal. It was a guy.”

“...What.”

You pull the phone from your ear. You probably do sound crazy. And you will continue to sound crazy when you talk about what you found online from defunct blogs from 1999. No matter how you try to spin it—every time you start talking—you can not come up with the words to explain that the scary internet creature is real. Leslie will not believe you, and who the hell would?

“...Nevermind. I have to go. I have, uhh, laundry in the dryer.” You mutter.

“Well, feel better, and stop going on the internet—you’ll scare yourself out of your skin with stuff people make up for fun,” Leslie sighs, then her voice goes soft, “I mean it. Take care of yourself. We’re thinking of you, kiddo. Oh, and Molly says hi.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “...Well, let Molly know I said ‘Hi’ back.”

“Will do. Okay, see you next week.”

You hang up.

✷𓃞 ✷

It’s damp. The fallen leaves are starting to rot and turn mushy under their boots. Jack tears through another can with their claws and downs a mixture of soup and soaked-through chicken. They drink, grinding the sinewy chicken and too-soft between their teeth, swallowing harshly and curling up at the taste. Police swarming the woods like ants to fruit has been awful; Jack is tired. Everything burns, they’re tired of running, and they’re still so hungry.

Other foods are necessary to Jack’s diet—they can’t live off meat. They need carbs and stuff—but if Jack has to spend more time seeing faces, they will start digging for their kidneys. They collapse underneath a fallen tree, curling up like a woodlouse. If the police find them, Jack just hopes it’s quick.

They can hear men shouting somewhere nearby with their big, angry dogs.

Jack falls asleep there, eventually, and they don’t know what time it is when they wake up, just that it’s dark out again, and it’s so quiet.

They survive off stolen clothing and soup cans between stays at the manor. Though their vision is gone, Jack still lives with psychosis (one would figure getting their eyes melted with hot tar would prevent visual hallucinations). Eating human flesh, though a taboo solution to their symptoms, allowed Jack to clear their mind and function.

Jack sunk deeper under the heavy log when they heard footsteps and a whining dog.

“I know, boy.” A man says, coughing as the air smells of cigarettes.

Jack’s nose burns at the smell. The dog sniffs at the earth and knocks aside a pile of leaves with its nose, whining and howling. The officer kicks aside the leaves and sighs.

“...Alright,” He says, the metal bits of the dog’s vest clicking together as the dog grows restless, thrashing against it.

The man hunches down, the sound of a plastic bag crinkling in his palm, muttering something to the canine.

“Atta-boy. Come on, Chester, it’s damn creepy out here.” With the tug of the leash, the officer and his canine retreat out of the woods.

When the two are out of earshot, Jack squeezes out from under the log and feels around in the dirt, sniffing the air and only smelling wet earth. Their chest tugs in a sickened sort of way, and they sink back into their hiding place and curl up into a ball. The rain picks up again. Wind howls and thunder crackles in the sky, rattling the earth.

Their new jacket, which they snatched off an unsuspecting hiker, was Jack’s only protection from hypothermia stealing the heat from their digits. Jack breathes into their palms, hot air flowing across their stiff fingers (which Jack promptly stuffed into their underarms to warm them up).

The wind doesn't hesitate to rob Jack’s already-deprived body of what little it has. Jack can’t stop thinking about how hungry they are—and how they see faces melting in their periphery whenever their mind wanders. They pick at the raw edges of their sockets in a measly attempt to soothe. It doesn't work. Nothing works anymore, even when Jack can consume human meat. After only a few hours, Jack’s skin is already itching with the need to keep consuming, to keep eating, to stave off their psychosis by any means necessary. They tug—and tug, and tug, and tug until they’re shaking—at their raw skin, where hardened pitch meets seared flesh and patchy brows. It’s unbearably cold, it’s so fucking cold, and going back to that hellish manor sounds like paradise right about now.

But that’s not an option.

✷𓃞 ✷

Tuesday finally comes around, and you can return to work.

You pack two lunches today. Your bag is just leftovers in a takeaway container (dinner from yesterday), and the other is a sandwich with a few slices of Swiss cheese and meat (far more meat than you’ve ever used at once). It’s got other things on it; you aren't going to give some hungry person—who’s probably been living alone in the wilderness for who knows how long—a boring sandwich. Too bad if they don’t like mayo (Well, you hope they like mayo, lest they rip you in two for the offense of a condiment on real-people food).

You fill your water bottle, grab your keys, and head out the door.

Leslie’s truck is humming outside. Your car is still in the lot at work. You were not in any condition to drive after, and Leslie would not have let that happen. She moves her bags as you climb into the passenger seat. You set down your things on the floor, trying to conceal the second lunch you made.

“...Glad to have you back, got everything?” Leslie asks.

You nod, jingling your keys.

She flicks her turn signal to the left and drives onto the road, turning right onto the main road.

The car is quiet, except for the radio playing old 80s hits, thick with the tension that you almost died the last time you went to work.

“You can work wherever you want today. Molly’s willing to work with your plans. I can imagine not wanting to do trail walks after, well, you know what.”

“I’ll be okay,” You say, ”I’ll do trails today. Not a problem.”

Leslie grips the steering wheel tight. “You’re sure? After you know what, I figured you would want to quit,” She turns left, “I wouldn’t blame you.”

“No. I’m a little shaken up, but I’m okay.” You say, looking out the window.

Leslie makes some noise like she knows you’re lying. Your brush with death should have turned you off from any outdoorsy work, but here you are, making lunches for the thing that tried to rip you open like an orange. Maybe your too-empathetic and hopeful parts hope this sandwich helps them out. Everything you read about them was far from pleasant—Some of it didn’t seem real.

“A mixture of blood and hot tar poured into the eye sockets.” You recall.

This stuff about Eyeless Jack you read felt like fiction, but what you saw that night was real. God, it sends shivers down your spine, makes you feel ill—you don’t know what you would do if put in that scenario (blinded, abandoned, and left to die in the woods with an insatiable hunger for human flesh? Jack has been active for years, all alone, you think, you’re not sure how you would last even half as long).

“...Did they find anything?”

Leslie sighs. “No. But it’s an animal, so it’ll return next time it’s hungry. We’ve got more people on watch. Hopefully, we can get Wilderness Removal or Animal Control on it, maybe kill it if we have to.”

You hope not. Leave the critter that keeps eating people alone; they should just leave a plate of food out.

“Maybe don’t try to hunt down the wild critter-person like an animal.” You think. The rest of the ride is silent. You pull up to the park and see Molly chatting with a guest. She spots you looking out the window and waves, delighted to see you again.

“I wanted to give you this in case anyone tries giving you trouble.”

She passes you a black cylinder that’s roughly four inches tall. The button on top and the spray nozzle tells you it’s pepper spray.

“...Thanks, Leslie.”

“Anytime.”

You pull on your coat and leave your lunch in the fridge, taking the other out. Then, you jog over to your car and abandon the pepper spray in the cup holder; you hope that this choice won’t get you killed tonight, but you need to start on a good foot.

Your day-to-day rhythm comes back to you. You warmed yourself up on the more populated trails, picking up cans and directing folks about. It’s sparse, only seeing small groups unfazed by the recent killings (perhaps through ignorance or a belief that death is beneath them). The dread is heavier when you walk an empty trail that’s usually lively with people, even during the day, when dangers lurking in the bushes are more visible. As the sun creeps across the sky—and lower towards the horizon—fewer and fewer people choose to risk hiking after dark, lest they get disemboweled like the last guy who tried.

By 19:00, it’s empty. There’s nobody around other than you. But you know they’re still out there, listening to your every movement (and every breath and every hitch).

You scan the edge of the woods where they’re probably hiding, carefully stepping over the foliage while you intentionally stray from the carefully manicured path.

The trails are well-kept. The landscaping crew works diligently and takes pride in their work, keeping them free of debris and roots that would make the footpath a challenging terrain. Beyond the edges of the dirt roads, however, the forest is wild; vines writhe and twist along the floor, every plant fighting for sunlight in the undergrowth, with bigger-than-your-head leaves and trees wearing thick coats of creeping ivy. You witness the cycles of life and death within this delicate ecosystem—young trees climb higher and higher, growing larger and larger; insects feast upon the trees, rely on the trees, live and die by the trees; the trees, after centuries of life, die and rot; the lichen and insects feast on the rotting wood and refresh the cycle anew.

It makes you feel small and insignificant, as the world around you lives and dies without even noticing your existence. It’s like being surrounded by other people’s ideas in a museum, thousands of other people, forgotten by time, remembered by their art, or their shoes, or their stories through other people’s mouths.

Your boot slips on slick earth before you can continue your mental spiral about your insignificance as one among billions. Your boots squeal against pulpy mud and you nearly slip down into a strange recess; the earth is slick with that same slime, though it is more grainy and pus-like in texture. You follow the streaks in the muddy ground, where it slips underneath a large, rotten log.

You shine your light underneath, spotting a shivering, cobalt-blue mask underneath layers of jackets and stolen fabrics.

Maybe they’re sleeping, and waking them up (though with the promise of real people food) may upset them enough to maul you like a bear and eat you for lunch instead.

They shift and wiggle into the recess they carved out for themselves, hearing some shuffling outside of their burrowing. They suck in a deep breath through their nose, and the smell of human sears the insides of their lungs like smoke. They hunch a little bit, curling into a more upward sitting position, sniffing the air, inhaling once, twice, then a third time until they have that scent burned into their hindbrain. They can’t stop drooling, salivating at the thought of finally feeling okay again, having something to cut through the smoky, blurry feeling. They hear shuffling, their prey slinking back as they curled forward. They can’t suppress the growl that rumbles in their throat, teeth licked behind the mask. They don’t move like a person in preparation for a chase. Jack slips out of their nook, their body curled forward and arms hanging limp.

Jack reaches up and peels the mask like a second skin, revealing tar-filled sockets that bore down at your scent.

Jack lurches forward like they’re on a leash, sinking their claws into your arm and digging in, etching out five deep grooves, each weeping a stream of blood that makes Jack’s mind run wild. Without thinking entirely, Jack pulls your arm forward and sinks their teeth into your bicep, leaning their body weight against you, knocking you both to the floor. There’s kicking and screaming, high-pitched whining as Jack’s teeth tear through skin and sinew, coating your arm in blood and spit.

You cry out, trying to pull their steel trap of a jaw out of your arm—managing to loosen their upper jaw, and by shoving them away with the heel of your palm, you manage to rip out their lower jaw, too.

They shiver, licking their teeth over and over again. Feral, animalistic delight rattles their whole body; they’re giddy at the taste of your blood, but they hold some restraint at the sound of their name.

Your breathing is frantic, and your heart is hammering in your throat. Jack’s breathing slows, and they quit licking their teeth. You’re not sure where to start. You hold your breath as Jack’s tar-filled sockets bore down into yours. Their breathing is heavy, and there’s saliva dribbling down their chin. You squeeze your arm, your skin clammy with blood and sweat, while Jack stays still above you.

Your mouth is nailed and twisted shut like you’re at the morgue. Jack doesn’t finch as they, strangely again, don’t tear you to shreds like the last guy. You sigh, which comes out as an exasperated laugh, your chest squirming like a bucket of mealworms as Jack’s warm, blood-soaked breath enters your nose. Their hair is long and matted, greasy and cool-brown in color; their skin is a deep gray like the living dead, bulked up by layers of stolen sweaters and pants to keep warm.

“I, uhh…” You start, “I brought you a sandwich if you want it. I didn't know what you liked, so I just put a little bit of ever—”

Jack’s knee presses into your ribcage as they climb over you, feeling around on the ground for your bag. A wheeze rattles from your throat, and they dump your belongings onto the forest floor unceremoniously, sniffing the contents like a tracker hound.

They pinch the bag between their claws, disemboweling the brown paper bag, the contents hitting the floor with a wet thud.

You watch them eat, tearing through plastic and paper with their teeth, eating with no sensibility nor dignity. The sandwich is shoved into their mouth and swallowed in about fifteen seconds, and a crushed bag of potato chips you forgot at the bottom of your bag perishes, too. They crack open the plastic container full of your dinner and hesitate, neck craned in your direction. It takes a few moments to find them, but Jack finds the metal utensils you packed for yourself, showing the container to you.

“Oh, well, yeah. That’s mine. My dinner, I mean. You can have it if you want.”

They shake their head in a fit.

They push it in your direction, a flatly affective expression on the remainder of their face, but their body language pushes your cold leftovers on you with a lot of force. You gingerly take the container from their claws, crack it open, and eat. Jack listens attentively to you, sockets trained on you, on the sound of metal utensils clinking against your mouth, the sound of you swallowing your meal. Their hands squirm and play with the dirt and leaves, excited to share a meal of leftovers with somebody they nearly killed twice. Your arm is throbbing as you carefully feed yourself, your jacket’s sleeve shredded. Hopefully, your emergency fund can cover a trip to the hospital for however many stitches you’ll need, as well as the antibiotics you’ll be taking (or paying for amputation if this gets infected, but you try not to think about that as this demonic forest creature is enraptured by you eating supper with them). You scrape the bottom of the container, not missing a single morsel.

They move their hand under their chin, and you recognize what Jack is doing. You took a few classes in uni, so you pick up on the ASL as soon as their hand collides with the other in a neat thank you.

“Oh! You’re welcome,” You say, “Was it good? I was worried if you liked mayo or not.”

They grin. It’s small, subtle, and hard to do with the tar seared to their skin, but there’s a quiet peek of teeth as they chuckle at being understood. They like mayo.

You laugh, too, exhausted and relieved. After so many restless nights worrying about getting your organs surgically removed in your sleep, you’re looking forward to a restful night after the day you’ve had. At the hospital, because you’re arm is looking pretty ugly.

“Look, I think I have to go.”

They tense up.

“I won’t tell anyone about you, I promise,” You sigh, trying not to look down at your bloody limb, “They’re still looking for you, though, so be careful. If you need food, I can try to sneak you some from Lost & Found.”

Jack pats at their pocket, pulling out an old, beat-up phone. They pass it to you, and you type out your number and put it into a contact.

“I’ll, hopefully, see you soon?”

They shrug. It’s probably for the best that they don’t make any promises. Jack walks into the treeline, eventually disappearing from view.

[choco-pudding]

Space Channel 5 Part 2: Sugoku Sugoi Guide Book p. 170-179 (Translations by @lavoszero and myself. Edits and typesetting by myself)

Second Part of the bonus content.

Imgur link to all of the Sugoku Sugoi Guide Book translations we’ve done thus far.

Plain text below.

p. 170

15: Synchro Suit [Unlock Requirements] Clear 34 consecutive trials in Ulala's Dance Mode while wearing the Morolian Suit

Borrowed from the team when Ulala went to do an exercise report with the best in the Galaxy's synchronized swimming team (must be returned).

16: Space Michael Suit [Unlock Requirements] Clear Report 4 with the Ratings at 100%

Staff member suit. A costume of Space Michael, the new Chief of Space Channel 5.

17: Jaguar Costume [Unlock Requirements] Clear Report 5 with the Ratings at 100%

A costume of Jaguar, the Space Pirate Broadcasting Station leader.

18: Peace Costume [Unlock Requirements] Clear Report 2 (Extra Mode)

A President Peace costume. It was used to make a body double for him. Second hand goods.

-

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p. 171

19: Noize Costume [Unlock Requirements] Clear Report 3

A costume of Noize. It has a secret function that makes the wearer appear smaller.

20: Evila (upgrade) Suit [Unlock Requirements] Clear Report 4

In reality, this suit is in fact just body paint and color contacts.

21: Dancing Purge Suit [Unlock Requirements] Clear Report 6

A mysterious suit designed to confuse enemies with little purple disco-mirrors.

22: Neo-Japanese Astronaut [Unlock Requirements] Save the Neo-Japanese Astronauts

A suit worn while undercover during a tour organized by an evil travel agency.

-

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p. 172

23: Mr. Nervous Suit [Unlock Requirements] Rescue Mr. Nervous.

A personal outfit of Ulala's that she secretly wears when she wants to act wimpy

24: Chef Suit [Unlock Requirements] Rescue the Chef (green)

A suit for undercover work in kitchens. Worn for an investigation of a secret broth.

25: Space Primary School Suit [Unlock Requirements] ​Rescue the Space Primary School Band Quartet

Used for the investigation of underground cramming school. It has a secret function that makes the wearer appear smaller.

26: Rescue Squad Suit [Unlock Requirements] Rescue the Space Rescue Squad

Worn by Ulala when she wants to show off her manly spirit without worries.

-

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p. 173

27: Granny Suit [Unlock Requirements] Rescue Space Granny

Used for the undercover infiltration into the Geriatric Bandits Hideout. Designed to keep the wearer's back curved for long periods of time.

28: Blank Suit [Unlock Requirements] Unlocked by playing for 10 hours (PS2). Unlocked by having Space Channel 5 save data (DC).

A costume of Blank, the former Channel 5 Chief. The cheat command is printed inside the clothes.

29: Hard Core Sexy Suit [Unlock Requirements] Unlocked by playing for 10 hours (PS2). Unlocked by having Space Channel 5 save data (DC).

A risque suit if ever we've seen one. But it's comfortable to wear, almost dreamlike.

30: Robot Suit (silver) [Unlock Requirements] Clear 7 consecutive trials in Ulala's Dance Mode while wearing the Morolian suit.

Metallic. You practically need to contort your body in on itself to wear it.

-

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p. 174

31: Robot Suit (macho) [Unlock Requirements] Clear 14 consecutive trials in Ulala's Dance Mode while wearing the Morolian suit

Made of metal. This suit is pleasantly spacious but quite heavy.

32: Morolian Suit [Unlock Requirements] Clear Report 6

A stuffed Morolian suit. Has the unique feature of making it appear as if the body has changed. Something will happen if you play Ulala's Dance Mode while wearing this suit.

33: Boss Morolian Suit [Unlock Requirements] ​Clear Reports 1 though 6 with the Ratings at 100%

A stuffed Boss Morolian suit.

34: 88Man Suit [Unlock Requirements] Clear Report 3 (Extra Mode)

Used to infiltrate Channel 88 HQ to report on the scandal that occurred there. The high clogs made it difficult to move in.

-

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p. 175

35: Cloaked Purge Suit [Unlock Requirements] Clear 100 consecutive trials in Ulala's Dance Mode while wearing the Morolian suit

Purge's cloaked suit. It can be worn as a set with No. 21 Dancing Purge Suit.

36: Striped Suit [Unlock Requirements] Clear Report 1 in 2-Player Mode

A sample outfit given to Ulala by the manager of her favorite fashion store. She modified to it give it some extra flare.

37: Camouflage Costume [Unlock Requirements] Clear Report 2 in 2-Player Mode

Used to infiltrate the evil Crimson Cosmos ginger processing plant. It has a faint scent of red ginger.

38: Black Gear [Unlock Requirements] Play the game for 30 or more hours

Used to infiltrate the leather sweat shop. Was made in a rush, and so the colors fade easily.

-

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p. 176

39: Peach Suit [Unlock Requirements] Clear 53 consecutive trials in 2-Player Ulala's Dance Mode

Ulala's personal wear for shopping.

40: Coconut Ulala [Unlock Requirements] Clear 53 consecutive trials in Ulala's Dance Mode

Not really a suit—just a tan!

Make and Color Your Own Suits!

-

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p. 177 Ulala Poem

This is a "poem" written by Ulala (22), a Space Channel 5 reporter. Her hopes for the future after the incident (which she made no direct comment on) have been poured into every word. After reading it, the station's director, Fuse, refrained from publishing it, so Ulala turned it in to the Space Police herself. It was then seized, or rather received, as a part of the case file. The full text is shown below.

I Want to be the Best Dish in the Galaxy

Ulala's stupendous Spring in the zero-oxygen stratosphere Let's go everyone, to the end of the Galaxy! Join the grains of stars spilling out of the Milky Way

Tanka on the side

The silver bell rings Let's meet up, hang out again The brass section roars Whoa, oh no, go go go! Ho! Take this, take that, hiya, ha

Thank you for this dish

Aah, will I ever be As delicious as space peking duck? I wonder how hungry Purge was To settle for his own trash TV

Spaaaaaace Love & Peace!

-

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p. 178 Miss Ulala's Changing Room

Items Miss Ulala isn’t the tidiest gal, but she does a bang-up job maintaining her mics. All of them, except for "Ulala’s Mic" are gifts collected after some exchanges with key individuals registered in the Character Profile index. Wireless mics were installed inside all the ones that started out as props. I wonder how long the green onion will last. We'll have to watch out for the smell.

01: Ulala Mic [Unlock Requirements] Unlocked from the start

A newly produced company mic used for reporting. Ulala painted it blue herself.

02:​ King of Frypans [Unlock Requirements] Check profile 031, the Chef (green)'s, after rescuing him

Proof of the Chef's victory in the 225th Annual Space Cook-off. This beauty has excellent thermal conductivity.

03: ​Ice Cream Cone [Unlock Requirements] After clearing Report 3, check profile 012, Noize's, then profiles 050 and 046, and then check profile 012 again

It's actually a microphone designed for the undercover investigations at shopping malls. It's even equipped with a small camera!

04: Legendary Egg Beater [Unlock Requirements] Check profile 032, the Chef (aqua)'s, after rescuing him

Made from metal extracted from some ancient ruins. Great for whippin' things into shape.

-

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p. 179

05: Lollipop [Unlock Requirements] Check profiles 036, 037, 038, and 039, the Space Music Primary Schoolers quartet's, after rescuing them

It's a bit sticky. Is this thing pre-licked?

06: Lantern [Unlock Requirements] After rescuing the Neo-Japan Astronauts, check profiles 028, 027, 026, 025, 024, then 028 again, theirs

A souvenir from Edo village in Sunlight City. It's made from washi paper and is quite expensive.

​07: Super Ladle [Unlock Requirements] Check profile 033, the Chef (yellow)'s, after rescuing him

Cookware with a hardness of over 8 billion die. Only two others exist in the entire galaxy.

08: Big Mug [Unlock Requirements] Check profile 053, the Rescue Police (troop)'s, after rescuing the Rescue Squad

Perfect for Milky Way Ginger Ales. Includes a semi-natural cooling device.

09: Folding Fan [Unlock Requirements] Check profile 045, Class President Nervous's, after rescuing him

The mother of Class President Nervous adored this fan. It creates a pleasant scent when you wave it.

​10: Crimson Rose [Unlock Requirements] After Clearing Report 5, check profile 009, Jaguar's

Laced with Jaguar's passion, this rose will forever bloom, never will it wither.

11: Ear of Corn [Unlock Requirements] After clearing Report 3, check profile 012, Noize's, then profiles 022 and 018, then check profile 012 again

A mic used in the undercover investigations of large scale farms. It's designed to lower the guards of opponents.

12: ​Green Onion [Unlock Requirements] After Clearing Report 6, check profile 003, Pine's

All-natural and picked from an actual garden, a rarity now and days. Absolute ambrosia when cooked properly.

-

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[netscapenavigator-official]

Fuck the Cybertruck, Fuck Tesla, and Fuck Elon Musk, but has loads of misinformation in it.

First of all, the Cybertruck has side mirrors. So the whole “can’t check your sides” is BS. America, unlike Europe, doesn’t allow for vehicles to have camera’s in place of mirrors. As a result, unlike Europe, no American-spec vehicle is currently being sold without them. You are right about the rear view mirror, though. The Cybertruck has one (as mandated by law), but it’s entirely useless due to the vehicle’s motorized tonneau cover, tiny rear windshield, and non-flat bed sides. So, while you can use the rear-view mirror, most drivers are unlikely to because of just how useless it is. However, as much as I think it’s a stupid idea, the Cybertruck isn’t alone in this idea, either. Volvo is about to start making the Polestar 4: A vehicle which won’t even have a rear windshield and will use cameras instead of glass… Hyundai also sells an Ioniq 5 with optional Camera Mirrors, in Europe. So, while I agree it’s stupid, this isn’t a Tesla-exclusive issue. It’s just (unfortunately) where the auto market is trying to go. Tesla isn’t as bleeding-edge as a lot of people think. In fact, in the EV space, most people are pretty aware that they’ve lost their edge in almost every aspect.

Secondly, saying “everything is steer-by-wire” is not only wrong, but it’s blatant fear mongering. ALL modern cars, for basically the last two decades, have computerized throttle pedals. The Cybertruck is not special because it has a digital accelerator. Not only do gas powered cars have these, but it’s literally impossible for a modern electric car to not have one because there’s no physical way to tell electrons to exit the battery and enter the motor, unlike in a gas car where you can just open a flap more and make the engine run faster. You’re also wrong in the assumption that the Cybertruck has a digital brake pedal. No it does not. I cannot find any proof of this aside from fanboy’s speculating. The closest mention of proof I found was the Cybertruck forum where someone debunks this by mentioning that the Cybtertruck does not meet Brembo’s requirements. Therefore (at the very least) the front two calipers are still physical. However, a more valid concern of the Cybertruck’s brake system is that, according to every single reviewer I’ve watched, this thing is dangerously underbraked for its size, weight, and performance. Apparently, Tesla thought they could get away with some part’s bin brakes and didn’t realize that’d be an issue for a 7,000 lb truck that can do 0-60 faster than most modern sports cars.

Thirdly, steer-by-wire does not allow for each wheel to be independently controlled. I don’t know about the rear wheels (which we’ll get to in a minute), but I know for a fact that the front wheels use a run-of-the-mill steering rack. The difference is that instead of a mechanical linkages controlling them, a small electric motor does. The wheels themselves are still linked together, meaning they have to turn in the same direction, the same amount.

Fourthly, if you meant the front and rear wheels can potentially turn in opposite directions, then you’re right. That’s literally how four-wheel-steering works. At high speeds, the front and rear wheels turn together to make the car corner sharper. At low speeds, they turn opposite to enable the tighter turning circle you mentioned. Some four-wheel-steering systems even allow for parallel turning at low speeds. General Motors did in the Hummer EV. They called it “Crab Walk Mode,” and it was advertised as an off-roading feature.

Fifthly, the panic and fear around four-wheel-steering is bullshit. While it’s uncommon on regular cars, it’s very common on luxury cars because, as I said, it allows cars to corner sharper at high speeds and turn tighter at low speeds without actually needing to downsize or reduce weight. In fact, the first four-wheel-steering system was introduced all the way back on the 1987 Honda Prelude. These systems aren’t new, and they’re far more tried and tested than most think.

Finally, Toyota’s (Lexus’s) steer-by-wire system does not have physical linkages as backup. They just put more electric motors as redundancy. They have the exact same, 100% digital steering system as the Cybertruck. I’m not saying this is good. In fact, I quite think it’s a shit idea, but what Tesla has done with their steer-by-wire system is nothing out of the ordinary, and according to plenty of automakers announcing upcoming plans, it’s due to become the norm with these systems.

I’m sorry if this came off as rant-y or aggressive. The Tesla Cybertruck is a vehicle that’s stupid and dangerous in plenty of ways, but let’s at least make sure the things we’re calling it out on are the actual problems.

Watch a Cybertruck break in real time, less than a mile after the guy acquires it. Founders Edition totally worth $120K, right?

[beea-idiot56]

Chapter 5 - A little help is always nice

What happens when a person who has been diagnosed with extreme anxiety and had "retired" from volleyball finds themselves coaching a team full of guys who are a little too loud for their comfort(especially the ginger)?

Slow burn? ✔️ smut?❌ they/them pronouns?✔️ forced?❌

Childe x Reader Volleyball AU Wattpad Link Prologue link(Tumblr)

A sigh escaped Y/Ns lips as they tied their shoes, ther eyes following the wood of their floor up to the shoe rack, to which a box belonged. A sense of Deja Vu filled their brain, it was only short lived, however, and they shook it off, grabbing their bag before heading out of the house that they owned. Their feet carried them down the side walk, having been nothing more then muscle memory at this point, after coaching here for nearly a year. 

Coaching young children, ranging from 6 to 11, had been nothing short but a therapeutic experience for them. As they taught new children the different rules of volleyball, watching children get giddy at the thought of hitting, watching them get their first serve over, and being able to tell, even from a young age without much knowledge of the game, what each eand every person would soon become on the court. 

Y/N was able to hand pick and point out the few that they could tell would be setters, or hitters, sometimes even being able to tell who would be excellent at passing. It was a joy to watch young minds and children grow to be excellent players. Sure they werent ready to step onto a court for a large game or tournament, Y/N’s class had only been an introductory into the loved sport, but it was still fun to see the progress these children would make throughout the month or two that the class lasted. 

As Y/n rounded the corner and stepped up to the large recorational building they found themself glancing over the parking lot with all the cars that lined it. At this point in time, about a hour before anything really started at the complex, it was always easy to pick out when people were there and who they were. There was the large truck, owned by the front desk worker who often brought in coffee and always saved a cup for Y/N. The small Honda car, owned by the swim coach and worker. Then Y/N’s favorite car, a nice old 1961 Ford Galaxy Starliner, bright red with the leather seats and everything. Everytime Y/n saw it they found themself feeling a sense of giddy well up in their stomach at such a beautiful car. They had been yet to figure out who owns it, but they simply assumed it was one of the janitor people who worked here. 

However, today they saw a new car. It wasn’t special, just a mustang with a top on it. It was bright yellow, which was the most eye catching part, even when the sun was just barely rising above the horizon. Y/N walked up to the doors, their eyes still catching onto the new car. They simply brushed it off, however, possibly there was a new worker. Archons knew they were short handed. 

Y/N entered the large complex, it was not unlike many YMCA complex’s. But there was a special homeyness to it that Y/N found themself drawn too, with the plaques of different sports and their players across the wall, a little daycare for parents who dropped their kid off, and large windows spreading the entirety of the rooms. Most courts had been closed off, in favor of padded side panels, but the swim room, gym, and some of the other small rooms had not been spared from the public view. Then there were the dance rooms, each with large mirrored walls, it was two way, so people could see in, but the dancers were able to watch themselves to improve. However, in the middle of the center, and where most people walked in, was the front desk. A nice smell was wafted up to Y/N as they wandered over to the front desk, leaning their elbows on it and over to look at the person who worked there. 

“Well hello there Y/N! Do you like my new candle? Its quite pleassent.” Ganyu spoke, a smile graced her face and she pulled a coffee up from under the ledge y/n was leaning on, handing it to them. They gripped onto it a smile gracing their face in return.  “I do! Its so nice, whats the scent? Also thank you” y/n spoke, letting the smell overtake their senses as they took a sip from the coffee. Ah, made just as Y/n had always liked it.  “Just some cinnamon and a hint of apple, apparently its supposed to smell like an orchid. Thats neither here nor there, however.” she smiled, “but you, on the other hand. You didnt tell me you had such a pretty boyfriend!”

Y/n had nearly spit out their drink as they coughed and heaved, confusion running over their features. “I wasnt aware i had one either!” they spoke, coughing slightly still. 

“Hm? So that ginger who came in a few minutes ago, asked where your court was, and then flashed a wink at me, wasnt your boyfriend?” Ganyu spoke, a smile gracing her features. Y/n stared at her however, confused as to who they were speaking of. Ginger? y/n didnt know any ginger- oh. Yes. yes they did.  “Youre mistaken, hes not my boyfriend. More of an,,, underling? I dont know quite how to title him. His coach asked me to help coach their setter, and as a byproduct i met him.” Y/N tried to reach for the words to explain how the two were related, but just settled for explaining it flat, rather than putting a title on it. However, that didnt stop the knowing smile that graced their colleagues face, Y/N just sighed before waving her off, pushing off the counter to walk down the hallway and to their court. 

Sipping down the rest of their caffinated beverage and tossing it in the trashcan, they pushed open the doors. Dropping the bag full of volleyballs by the door, and instead picking up the keys on the hook next to the door that unlocked the utility closet with all the pieces to set up the net. They then looked back up, to see Childe, staring back at them from the wall where he was stretching his back, a large smile gracing his features. 

“So youre the one with the yellow mustang” y/n sighed before waving him over as they walked over to the utility closet. In an odd sort of way, they almost weren’t surprised to see him. “Oh! How did you know?” childe spoke, bouncing over with a smile “I didnt recognize it when i walked here. Anyways, help me set up the net. If youre gonna be here youre gonna make yourself useful.” y/n sopke, pushing the door open with a loud creak. The ceiling of the closet was a little shorter than of the actual gym, but still high to contain the bars that held up the net on either side.  “That was my intention!” he spoke, grabbing one edge of the bar so y/n could grab the other. Together the two dragged it out to the court through the door and childe held it as y/n beant down to pop open the covering to the hole the poles slide into. They both then slid it in and turned it to be facing the right way, the steel bars almost double the heigh of Y/n being a little difficult to manover. 

They then did the same with the other pole and childe helped y/n put together the rest of the net, reaching the top hook easily with his long arms and even longer legs, and together they tightened the bottom of the net and put on the matts on either side of the bar. Afterwords y/n sighed, it definitely was easier when there was a extra pair of (tall) hands. 

“Are you gonna put the antenna up?” childe asked, looking at the court outlines, but y/n jsut shook their head. “The group is a little too young, and a little to beginner to worry about antenna. Maybe if i ever coach any club teams ill care a bit more.” y/n laughed a little bitand childe nodded.  “You should, youd be good at it. Youre good at coaching our team!” he spoke loudly, bringing his arm to drape it over y/ns shoulders, leaning most of his weight on them. They just sighed and shrugged a little “Nah, i dont like dealing with preteens, plus, i wouldn’t really have time. With you guys and this class.” y/n smiled a bit before ducking their head down slightly, “its alright though, i dont mind the busy work.”

y/n noted how childe nodded, the feeling of his hair brushing against their ear. He then took a step back, walking over to the bag that he had brought that was previously up against the wall. 

“Set me?” he asked, y/n laughed but nodded and he came sauntering over, standing at the ten foot line.  “Whats your favorite set up?” y/n asked, putting themself in the 2.5 spot, he looked at them, a little confused.  “I hadnt really thought about it…” he spoke, a little sheepish grin outlining his features as he watched when y/n looked abbsolutey astounded.  “What!?! Every hitter ive ever had has had a favorite set!” they spoke, a laugh etching its way into their throat. He just shrugged but y/n shook their head, “well i guess we’ll fix that right now then!” they spoke strongly, their voice determined. Childe stamered but they cut him off, “if you have a favorite set, then Kaeya can set you better and you’ll get better hit as well. Just let me do this for you goldy.” they teased him, but the bite to their words was off in a different land and the smile on their face betrayed a different emotion. Childe looked at them, wondering if they were serious but ended up giving in, nodding before tossing the ball up. 

<3

       It didnt take long for kids to start to piling into the room, but nether childe or y/n payed them mind, only really caring when y/n glanced at the clock to find it was a minute before the class usually started. 

       “Alright, i think its time for my class to start. You can head out if you-”        “Where did you get that idea from? I said it was my intent to help!” childe spoke before dashing off to put the ball in his bag, y/n just sighed, a small smile forming on their lips before they picked up their bag. Pulling it over they opened it revealing all the balls that were inside, each made specifically for beginners, what was known in the volleyball industry as “volleylights”         “Can you go get the cart from over in the closet” y/n chimed as they then called over the group. Childe nodded and sprinted off to go get the cart. He realy was a ball of energy… 

       “Alright kids!” y/n smiled as they all came to surround them, “as youve noticed weve got a certain someone coming to join us today. However, you need not be scared, i dont think this kid could hurt a fly if he wanted” y/n giggled, the thought of childe hurting anyone seemed too far fetched for them to imagine. But that didnt stop the gasp escaping childe’s mouth as he pretended to be wounded by their words. They just shrugged as he came over, propping the car up and beginning to unfold it.         “Im Tartaglia. Otherwise known as Childe, or number 11 on the Teyvats. However, the most important title being, y/n’s friend!” childe spoke, and y/n laughed a little, a strange feeling wisting their stomach tightly.         “Anyways,“ y/n spoke as the group erupted into small whispers and kids greeted the player. Non of them knew him, most of these kids probably didnt want to be here, the class just being a cheap way to get kids to burn energy while moving. So knowing a player, even if he was well-known, was out of the question. “We’re gonna start today with some passing and setting drills, if we have enough time we’ll practice some hitting, and at the end we’ll do some serving?” y/n asked and the group burst out into cheers, smiling as they all hoped over to the back row, standing right where the five foot mark would be. Y/N tossed the ball to them, only for the child to turn their shoulders slightly when they went to go receive it, Y/N suppressed a grimace but corrected their behavior anyways, before moving on to the next child. 

                                                          <3

        And so practice went, with childe helping y/n and the kids, y/n found themself staring at the man more than they thought they probably should. The way he radiated confidence with the kids, being patient and gentle with them, soft spoken and calm. Which was such a contrast to his normal demeanor it was almost scary, they tried to not let themslef get caught, but there had been a few times when they accidentally caught Childes eye and he looked up from the kid he was working with, just to flash a bright smile and wave. 

        It was moments like those that y/n found childe to be insufferable, how could he do that? Wave and be all happy like a golden retriever, how was he so confident in himself? Where could y/n find that confidence for thsmelf? It was almost unfair! They simply wanted to be confident enough to not look away shyly, with a smile plastered on their face and a giggle in their throat like they had done when they caught him staring. 

        Maybe y/n was being over dramatic, childe wasnt trying to, of course. y/ns social anxiety was just bad, he wasnt ‘flexing’, he was simply outgoing and didnt know social cues. That was all… but yet there was something in the way that childe so gently helped a kid who was on the verge of tears calm down when they couldnt get their serve over. It encaptured y/n. 

        “Hey y/n, when does this class end? Its been nearly a hour and a half” childe spoke, catching their attention. They snapped their head to the clock that hung on the wall behind a crate. Sure enough, it was well past time for the kids to be starting to pack up.          “Ei ei ei, sorry about that kids and parents. Alright everyone, thank you so much for coming, remember next practice will be our last. And say thank you to childe for joining us today!” y/n spoke, waving off most the kids. A chorus of ‘thank you’s from the children ran out towards childe, he simply smiled, waving them off as well. It wasnt until everyone had left that y/n sighed, releasing a breath they hadnt realized they were holding.          “Youre good with kids” childe spoke, walking up to stand beside Y/N, to which they shurgged.          “So are you” they spoke, their voice slightly tired from the constant uptalk they kept with the kids         “Mm, taking care of three siblings does that.” he smiled, a look was on his face that y/n hadnt seen before. Something of a longing, a sort of love. A smile found its way to y/ns and they looked away, a family man huh?

        “Hm, well thank you for helping. Can i ask why though?”         “Hm? Oh i just thought itd be nice to come by and see what this class was like. Venti told the team about you coaching and i thought id find out for myself. Sides, i wanted to see if you wanted to join me for lunch…” childe spoke, the question lingered in the air as he bounced back and forth on his feet, looking anywhere but y/n. To which they laughed and nodded,  ��       “Sure! Just help me put all this stuff awya and then we can go” they said, smiling a bit. It had been a while since y/n had been out and about with someone, they usually left to coop up in their house after practices. Maybe the fresh air would be nice, even though the social interaction wouldnt be. Their words got a smile out of Childe and he nodded, rushing to go put away the net, already taking off the matts. 

        Y/n had followed a little slower, not seeing the need to race around, but non the less the job got done quicker than it usually had and they were sooon heading out hte door, passing by the welcome desk, y/n waved.          “Leaving early?” ganyu asked from the counter, a knowing smile plastered on her face, y/n gave her a eye roll but nodded,          “Childe said he wanted to treat me to lunch, and it would be nice to go out every once and a while, yknow?” y/n smiled with a small shrug, they took in another wiff of the candle that was still burning on the counter. Ah, there was Ganyu, never one to put out a candle, and when she did she did so quickly, simply putting it out with her fingers.          “Alright, well ill see you around! And it was lovely meeting you Childe!” she waved and y/n smiled, contiuing to walk with childe as he waved as well. 

        The two left the building, finding themselves infront of childes car. He popped the trunk and took the bag off of y/ns shoulder, slinging it in, to which earned a small thank you. He closed it before leaning on the yellow paint, which was not hard to not look at. “Thanks for joining me on this little lunch getaway. I thought itd be nice to get to know you a little better.” he smiled, wide and without shame. Another little flex on y/n that they had to suppress a frown from.          “Of course! It would be nice to get to know you better as well!” they smiled, but the words ‘and how you are so shameless’ hung in the air, not bothering to be said by y/n or acknowledged by Childe.

A/N:

Alright, this chapter isnt super well proofread so dont mind that, i dont remember what was going through my mind haha. but the next one isnt as grammatically messed up :D Im so excited for this hehe, ive been working on chapter 7 right now and its been super fun because its a depiction of a panic attack for the most part and its been super fun to test my skills in writing that sort of stuff :0

Anyways, make sure to eat a meal, drink some water, and get ample amount of sleep :D

[ten-thousand-year-elegy]

Chapter Twenty-Seven: “The Council of Hyrule”

Ten Thousand Year Elegy | Zelda BOTW/Yu-Gi-Oh DM crossover

After Sidon had left, Jounouchi groaned. “Man. I don’t like lyin’ to that guy. He’s so…” “Nice,” Anzu said wistfully. “Pretty good-looking, too, for a giant shark man,” Honda added, stroking his chin contemplatively. Link nodded in agreement. Zelda stuck her head out from under Kaiba’s cloak, appalled. “What does that have to do with anything?” “Just an observation.” “So?” Kaiba demanded. “What are you hiding from?” “Party planning,” Zelda said sourly. “Prince Sidon seems to think that a social get-together will solve all of the problems with this disaster of a Council. And since I’m the only one who remembers what Hyrule Castle’s great feasts used to look like from the planning end of things…” “Ha-ha!” Link crowed, in an uncanny imitation of Sidon. “Princess Zelda, you must tell me which table runners you prefer!” He easily dodged the swipe Zelda aimed his way.

In which Jounouchi, Kaiba and Yuugi pull off a crab heist, Honda finds yet another way to misuse the Mirror Shield in a manner that would make the entire Spirit Temple roll in its grave, and Zelda and Kaiba bond over their asshole dads.

READ ON AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32978329/chapters/105703542#workskin

Ten Thousand Year Elegy Masterlist

[truglori]

Sneaky Link 🔗

Synopsis: Black Reader and Eric find each other online!

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Black Reader

Warning: Language, Smutt, Raw sex

Flopping on the bed Y/N found herself bored for the fourth Friday night in a row. This was supposed to be the season of hook ups and living her best carefree lifestyle that she had planned out but yet is was the exact opposite. Being on summer break from college Y/N had to come back home with the schools being closed. It was something she dreaded.

Home for her wasn’t the best place to be. Between her judgmental and nagging parents and older brother, Chris, Y/N was ecstatic when she discovered that she would be going to a school that was over three hundred miles away. Being four hours away gave her enough freedom knowing that she didn’t have any one breathing down her neck or snitching to her parents about whatever she did. With it only being her sophomore year Y/N loved the college lifestyle.

Getting up she went to her window to open it and put in her square fan. Her air conditioner that she always kept in her room was now being used by her brother so she had to settle for this. Turning the knob she felt the warm cool breeze coming through and taking up the room. Walking back to her bed she logged into her laptop going onto the web browser. Clicking the history she found the website she was searching for and tapped it.

Quick Link popped up on her screen. It was a site that allowed people to meet and chat with other people. Even though Y/N has been going on it for weeks now back and forth, she never met one person that she has chatted with yet. She was okay with talking to them online and even over the phone but the thought of seeing them in person scared her. With all of the Lifetime movies and ID channel she would watch, doing something as small as meeting up with them could be dangerous.

Y/N scrolled through her recent messages. She had over ninety-nine notifications. She knew that she wasn’t going to reply to them all, only the once she found cute. It was like a broken record being played. They all inbox her with the same messages, hey sexy! Y/N rolled eyes at the un-originality. To her it seem like the guys didn’t even try to put in any effort.

Tapping on the keyboard she began to text back the handful that she found attractive when she got two notifications. Hurrying up her sentence she exited out of the chat and clicking on her new direct messages.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- Y/N, what in the hell is yo ass doing on this shit...10:35pm

HandsomeAssNigga👅- And I know you still online. I can see the green bubble by ya picture...10:36pm

Y/N squinted at the name. Who the hell was this texting her like they knew her? The question alone made her stomach flutter at the idea of getting caught on a dating site by someone she knew or knew her. Clearly this person recognized her enough to boldly message her. Clicking on their username she went to their page. Her heart stopped and thighs clenched at the same time.

It was Erik fucking Stevens aka her brother’s childhood best friend. Chris and Erik were the same age and only three years older than Y/N. Growing up Y/N stayed crushing on Erik. It was his braids that he rocked back in the day that had her drooling over him but also how nice he was to her. Y/N remembered the time when she was a freshman in high school and Chris and Erik were both Juniors she would always get a ride with them every morning in his 2005 Honda Accord. He would steal glances at her through his rear view mirror that only she would catch but to afraid to ask him about it.

There would be times that she would find underwear from a girl tucked under the backseat. Y/N heard about the rumored that went around the school that Erik was a player. An experienced one at that. He was grown before his time and with the way the lucky girls who had a chance to sleep with him describe it, he gave dick like he was a grown man as well.

Hearing that did nothing but spark the flame that she felt about him. She wanted to experience it herself. But being the quiet and timid person she was then, she never did. It wasn’t until Y/N went to college where she lost her virginity her freshman and started having sex on the regular with her ex who was also her first. From the first few times they did it, she could never cum from penetration. Y/N thought it was normal and that every girl dealt with it until she shared a few stories with her friends and they would tell her about the way their guys would make them squirt.

Squirting was something Y/N always wanted to do but could never achieve with her guy. She loved feeling him inside of her stretching her open but he was a quick pumper. He came too fast for her and couldn’t last long enough to get her to nut. So after every session she would take her bullet and tortured her clit until she felt her cream escaping her hole. Not having sex since the last time she was at school had Y/N body extremely horny and hot and ready like a little ceasars pizza.

Clicking through his pictures had her clenching her thighs. After he graduated high school, the graduation was the last place she seen Erik. She wasn’t even sure if Chris and him were still close friends. But what she could say is that he grew up very nice. He now had dreads that hung over his eyes with a clean shape up to top it off. His teeth pearly and white accompanied by gold canines he was wearing in every other picture and last but not least his body was everything. Standing at 6’3 and looking like a solid 215 from her view Erik was fine as fuck.

Giggling and embarrassed with herself she replied back.

BlackBeauty- Erik omg...this is so embarrassing. How did you find me?...10:40pm

Biting the nail on her thumb she waited for him to answer her. To her surprise he wrote back fairly faster than what she expected.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- Noticed yo little ass on the explore page. I know you not on here meeting with these wack ass niggas...10:42pm

She laughed re-reading his message. To her it sound like it was possessive but she didn’t want to over think it.

BlackBeauty- Never!! I am not stupid. I haven’t met one person yet...10:44pm

Hitting the send button she rolled her eyes noticing herself getting desperate from his attention.

HandsomeAssNigga👅-Okay bet! I don’t wanna have to fuck you up youngin 😈...10:47pm

Biting her lip, she stared down the emoji. She wondered what that meant. She wondered in what way did he meant when he said he would fuck her up. At this point Y/N was dripping between her thick thighs.

BlackBeauty- What about you? I know you out here fucking these bitches you meet on here. Don’t lie lol...10:49pm

Y/N didn’t want to seem nosy, she was just trying to make conversation.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- Damn you cuss now? And second of all don’t be worried about what I do with my dick. I’m grown and that’s different...10:51pm

Bringing a hand down to her covered pussy Y/N caressed it. The warmth coming through her panties and cotton shorts. She didn’t know what it was but the way he was responding had her feeling a type of way. She wasn’t the shy young girl anymore he used to know and she wanted to make that clear.

BlackBeauty- I’m grown too Erik 💦...10:53pm

Her heart beat sped up when she sent the text not knowing how he was going to respond.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- To who? I know ya young ass ain’t out here fuckin yet. You was too shy for that last time I saw you. Even if you was, I know you ain’t getting know real dick...10:55pm

HandsomeAssNigga👅- What’s that emoji supposed to represent? Ya pussy or sum shit? Let me find out Y/N 👿...10:56pm

There goes that little devil that had her questioning herself again.

BlackBeauty- I get dick on the regular. Good dick! And yes Erik that emoji reps my pussy. Same young pussy that’ll be too wet for you to handle! I’ll have you drownin in my shit...10:59pm

Y/N could always talk a good game online. It was where she could be get as nasty as she wanted without actually putting in work. The guys who would hit her up loved her foreplay that she had spit over the internet and she was fortunate enough where they never pressed her to meet in person.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- Bring that pussy here and I’ma show you if I’ll drown in it. Stop fucking playing with me Y/N if you not gonna pull up. I don’t do this back and forth teasing shit. You tryna do a Sneaky Link or what?...11:02pm

Checking the hall Y/N seen that the lights were off. Her parents were most likely sleeping and Chris always worked Friday nights. This was the perfect time and opportunity to leave. She would have to sneak the keys from the key holder and use her dad’s car to get to his place. Y/N didn’t do this on the regular but because it was Erik she was curious. She wanted to see for herself if all of the rumors were true. Y/N was going to fuck him tonight.

BlackBeauty- Send me the addy..I’m on my way...11:04pm

________

After showering and preparing for her dick appointment Y/N successfully snuck out of the house. She put his address in her GPS. It was a twenty minute drive to get to his apartment. Putting the car in park and turning it off, Y/N felt the butterflies in her stomach grow while walking into the building. Taking her phone out she went to his message and looking up the apartment number he gave her. Apartment 3B.

Knocking on the door. She held her hands together tightly. She was beyond nervous and rethinking her decision as her heart kept thumping. She couldn’t believe that she was really going to go through this. After so many years of fantasizing about him in her room she was finally going to see the real thing. Y/N only wondered if it was as good as she hoped.

The door swung open showing Erik sipping on a glass of dark liquor. In nothing but a tight wife beater that clung to his chest and his sweats that hung low Y/N could see the print poking through so visibly. It looked like he was free balling it.

“Damn ma. You wasn’t lying about getting grown. You look good as shit.” Erik sipped from his glass. He stepped aside inviting her in.

Y/N smiled softly going inside. She only took a few steps in and stood to the side waiting for him. She heard the door lock behind her as it caused her to gulp hard on her spit.

Erik eyed her with his low eyes. He chuckled seeing that she was clearly nervous.

“So that’s ya thing?” His voice was low and deeper than what she remembered.

“What’s my thing?” Her soft voice speaking up.

“Talking shit online but quiet it person.” He stated putting her on the spot.

Y/N smacked her lips and rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She turned facing his livingroom.

“Nah ain’t no whatever. What’s good ma? Where that big girl energy go?” He walked up behind her pressing his body into hers. The hand that wasn’t holding his cup wrapped around her waist gripping the small pudge on her stomach.

Y/N shivered when she felt his dick on her ass. Her assumption was right. He wasn’t wearing any underwear beneath his sweats. She could feel the coldness of his chains on her shoulder when he leaned on her due to her only wearing a tank top. She grabbed his hand, not pushing him away but holding on to him.

“I’m here aren’t I?” She gazed at him over her shoulder.

He smirked at her smart remark. “You need anything before we start? A drink, blunt, something to help you calm ya scary ass down.” He teased.

She pushed his hand from around her waist and folded her arms. “I’m not scary Erik. If I was I wouldn’t be here.”

“Then why you barely saying shit?” He licked his lips.

Y/N shrugged. “It’s just been a while since I saw you. You look...different.” Playing with her diamond earning, she occupied her fingers.

“I may look different but I’m still the same Erik that used to jack ya brother up every time he fucked with you when no one was looking. Ain’t shit changed about me ma so you can relax. I’m tryna take care of you tonight.” He spoke stepping closer.

They were now face to face. Y/N’s frame staring up into his 6’3 one. When she would inhale she could smell his expensive cologne mix with the Hennessy he’s been sipping on since she got here.

“Okay.” She answered with a bite of her bottom lip.

Erik groaned at the action. Both of his hands behind his back now, he bent down to her level to meet her halfway. “C’mere.” He demanded a kiss with messy dreads hanging over his eyes.

Meeting him where he was, Y/N listened giving him one. The taste of the dark liquor transferring over to her taste buds from his tongue invading her mouth. The warmth of it made her melt under him and causing her head to lean back. She was already growing weak just from the kiss.

Erik reached behind her slapping her ass and gripping it with his free hand. “Fuck you doing all that for and I ain’t even do shit yet.” He spoke against her lips peaking through his eyelids.

“Hurry up then daddyy.” Y/N whined.

“That’s my name for the night? I like that shit.” He walked them backwards until they reached his room which wasn’t far away from the front.

Placing his glass down on his dresser he lifted her up by her thighs, picking her up. Y/N squealed from the unexpected action. She held onto his neck hoping he wouldn’t drop her. Erik chuckled playing with her ass cheeks before laying her down on the bed gently.

“You sucked dick before...miss grown?” Bringing his hand down, he massaged his print through his sweats.

Leaning up on the palm of her hands, Y/N nodded answering yes. She did it plenty of times with her ex, who she could make cum quickly off of head alone but the way Erik was grabbing his tool made her think differently.

“So what’s up then? Come show me what that mouth do?”

Kicking off her sandals Y/N got off the bed. His eyes stayed glued to her. Getting on her knees in front of him she tugged the sides of the grey sweats and pulled them down to his mid thigh. His dick sprung out almost hitting her in the face had she been centimeters closer.

Long and thick was what it was. A beautiful smooth brown texture covered his heavy package. Y/N felt her mouth watered thinking about how her cream and juices would look being all over it. This man was truly blessed and so far proving the rumors to be true.

Erik twisted his hips side to side wagging it in front of her. He lifted the wife beater up and tucked it under his chin so that he can get a good view.

Grabbing the base of his length Y/N eyed it. She was trying to figure out ways to be able to swallow this monster without choking. Sticking her tongue out she tapped his tip against it. A string from her saliva on her tongue being attached to his head every time they separated. With her prior experience and watching porn she grew to have her own technique.

Y/N allowed the spit to build up in her mouth when she sucked on his tip. No nigga likes dry head and she wasn’t going to start giving it today. She wanted it to be extra sloppy for Erik. Tightening her jaws she went up and down on his dick. Taking only about four inches of him and using her spit to stroke the rest of him. With just the little bit of his length she was able to take she could already feel him reaching her back.

“Fuck that throat feel good. Shitt!” Erik groaned gripping her tight kinky curls and putting them into a ponytail. He tilted his head watching her go stupid on his dick. He sucked in his lower lip when she began to swivel her head around.

Long drips of spit went falling down on her black tank top. Erik’s eyebrows scrunched up the moment he felt her take his balls in her mouth and suck on them lightly while stroking his tip. His stomach started to tighten and his toes dug into his carpet. This girl was trying to take his soul the way she sucking him up.

“Man whatchu doing Y/N?” Erik asked amazed, closing his eyes for a second. He couldn’t remember the last time he had head this good.

“I’m showing you that I’m grown daddy.” She answered coming up.

Now both of her hands were focused on playing with his balls while she sucked his tip and some of the few inches she was able to reach. Her eyes stared into his not stopping at all. She had him right where she wanted him. She could tell from the way his breathing sped up that he was getting weak and ready to bust a nut. Y/N tightened her suction to make it happen when she felt him pull her off by her hair.

Erik took one hand gripping her spit covered chin and tilted her head up to look at him. “Fuck is you doing sucking my dick like that ma? You tryna make me hold you hostage for the whole night?” He asked seriously.

Y/N giggled. “I just wanna make you cum Daddy.” She reached for his tip and gripped it making him jerk forward.

Erik smacked his lips annoyed that she had him feeling like sensitive. “Chill with that. Let me fuck you first before you suck this nut out.”

Helping her up and placing her back on the bed Erik slide off her biker shorts tossing them somewhere. Underneath them she had on some cotton hipster panties with little rainbows spreaded everywhere. Erik laughed when he seen it.

“Why you wearing shit like this ma?” He teased stepping out of his pants and getting on the bed.

“Because it’s cute. Why you worried about what I’m wearing instead of taking them off?” Y/N mocked his question.

Erik smirked bringing his hand up to the piece of cloth and ripping them straight down the middle and threw them on the ground. A gasp left Y/N lips as she was shocked from him doing that. Slapping his forearm, her lips went into a pout becoming upset.

“Erik, I just brought those two weeks ago.” She smacked the hand that was rubbing her thigh.

“You said to take them off. My bad. That’s the way I usually do it.” He lifted her legs by the back of her thighs while he consoled her as a distraction.

Y/N was frustrated at the fact that he ripped her new panties but also that she wasn’t going to have any to wear back home after this link.

“I don’t care how you do it, you shouldn’t have- ohh shiitt!” Her rant was cut off with the sound of moans leaving her mouth.

Holding her legs by the back of her knees Y/N glanced down to see Erik flicking her clit. The tip of his tongue felt wet and firm, in a good way. She really started to feel it when he took one hand and spread her phat pussy lips. Now her clit was out in the open and more accessible. Erik’s eyes met hers through his dreads when his lips wrapped around her bud and began to suck.

“Mm fuck...daddyy!” The sensation had Y/N’s hips thrusting to meet his vacuum like suction. So powerful and wet.

“I want you to cum on this fuckin tongue!” His words were muffled by the lips of her pussy surrounding his but it was enough to reach her ears. Taking a hand he smacked her outer thigh making his demand clear.

Her warm and slick juices ran out of her opening. It was something about the way he commanded her to nut that made her wetter and willing. Y/N liked to be dominated. Lifting up the tank top and pulling it up to her chest she tweaked and flipped her nipples adding to the stimulation. For her the feeling of having her nipples played with while getting her pussy ate made her orgasm a hundred times better.

“Eat this fucking pussy b-babyy-“ She whimpered feeling a tear slide down the corner of her eye.

Even though he noticed it, Erik didn’t stop. The juices that he caught in his mouth made it hard. He loved a good tasting ass pussy. Y/N definitely had one. Moving his assault from her clit he put his tongue in her tight opening. He began to fuck her with it. Erik put his hands under her ass cheeks and got a good cuff before bringing her back and forth on his stiff tongue. With the way her legs were still in the air he could see Y/N toes curl the second he started the action. She began leaking so quickly. Erik chuckled inwardly when he felt her walls squeezing on him.

“Mhm.” He moaned teasing her.

Y/N was cumming from the second time just off of his mouth alone. She reached down to rub her clit while he stuck his tongue deep inside her. She ain’t never got head this good before back at college. Her thighs began to shake as she felt another mini orgasm hit. Her pussy growing sensitive and overstimulated.

Grabbing his dreads she lifted his head up. “Daddy you was eating my pussy so good. Fuckk!” She moaned with a quiver in her voice.

“Now I’m bout to beat this pussy up real good too. Turn around. I want that ass from the back.” Erik barked getting on his knees.

Swiftly taking off her tank top, Y/N turned around like he said and got on all fours. She felt a firm smack to her right ass cheek. Moaning she rocked back and forth and twerked each cheek individually. Y/N looked over her shoulder behind her seeing Erik watching her move it so effortlessly. His hands went up to her waist and pulled her closer to him. Now she could feel her mound rubbing against his bare hard rock hard stick.

“Doing all this ass shaking, you better not try to run from the dick. I don’t want none of that.” He gripped a cheek spreading it watching her pussy lips follow.

“I’m not gon run daddy..I promise.” She reassured him softly.

Erik gripped the base of his length. Smacking it against her her clit he played with it for a while to warm her up. When he heard her moaning and seen her backing up against him he knew she was ready. Erik sent a drip of spit on the tip of his dick and rubbed it over it with a free hand. He teasingly dipped in and out of her tight hole. Y/N pussy was tight as fuck and he knew he had to work his way in. Getting deeper and deeper with each inch her warm wet walls clung on to him.

“Ooh fuck!” Y/N eyes closed not expecting him to feel like this. Erik was stretching her pussy out. Her arms sprawled out in front of her gripping his sheets.

“Tight ass pussy you got. What happened to getting dick on the regular? Hmm?” Holding her down by the small of her back Erik made her arch deeper as he stroked her slick walls.

Y/N’s mouth couldn’t close or make a sound. From the position he had her in she couldn’t move or run if she wanted to. Pinned down and made to take it. Erik was dicking her down. His heavy fat dick busting her pussy open and touching her stomach. Fuck that. He was putting it in her chest. Y/N reached behind her to hold on to his wrist while he pounded her pussy with precision. Her face smashed into the bed. His dick was too good for her.

“Ooh baby... Daddy don’t fuck me like this!” She shouted not knowing what she was saying. Y/N didn’t want him to stop but she couldn’t handle the pressure he was putting on her bladder.

Erik didn’t have just a big dick that could stretch a pussy out. He knew how to fuck with it. When he stroked he didn’t use his whole body he worked his hips and that’s what drove bitches crazy about him. Erik would fuck like he was trying to make a baby.

“I thought you came here to get fucked?” He asked lifting off her. He bended one knee and balanced his weight on his foot pressing it into the bed. His hand wrapped around her throat as he caught a rhythm making her throw it back on him.

The sound of skin clapping filled the room. Y/N’s arch was now the deepest it’s ever been with Erik choking her from behind and making her head tilt up towards the ceiling. Cramping in her stomach let her know that she was about to break. She was finally about to cum from penetration alone. His curved tip would press on a spot she didn’t know she had there causing her legs to convulse. Her whimpers and moans only encouraged him to keep doing what he was doing. Which was tearing her pussy up.

“Shiitt!!” She cursed grabbing onto her titty to have something to hold on.

Erik bit his lip seeing her ass tremble from her orgasm and feeling her squeezing his dick with a vice grip. He slapped her left cheek before pulling out to flip her over on her back. Looking down at his meat it was covered in her creamy juices. His dick jumped at the sight.

“Good ass pussy.” He mumbled in a trance.

Using the weight of his hips he thrusted finding his way back inside of her. The warm wet tunnel closing in on him. Erik lifted up the wife beater that was still on in the mist, and brought it up under his chin tucking it to move it out of his way. His hands found the back of her thighs and pinned them against her chest. He began stroking and getting deeper from the angle.

Being trapped from his hold that he had on her, the only thing Y/N could do was bring her hands to his hips trying to interrupt his movements. Y/N didn’t like this feeling. He was going too deep. Deeper than what she was used to. Shaking her head from side to side she pushed at his hips that only kept going due to her weak and trembling arms not being able to produce enough strength.

“Move ya fuckin hands.” He demanded while keeping his steady stroke. Erik cussed under his breath hearing the smacking sounds coming from her hole that could be mistaken for a pot of mac and cheese being stirred. That’s how good Y/N pussy was.

Her tight walls gripped his dick. Erik looked between their bodies watch the beautiful art being made. Her pussy following him whenever he pulled out to the tip just to be sucked back in. Pussy as good and wet as hers always got him to bust hard. He was close. Leaning down to her neck he kissed and sucked her skin while having her pinned down taking his length. Erik felt her walls slick up and knew she was about to nut again.

“Let that shit go mama.” He whispered in her neck.

Y/N’s nails scratched against his back. Her eyes wailed up with tears feeling the pressure in her stomach building up. She lost count of how many times he had made her cum tonight but she knew she was grateful and only prayed that this wasn’t the last time she got dick this bomb.

“Unhh.” She couldn’t produce any words. Her toes curled as she gazed at the ceiling feeling her body shake.

“There you go.” He pecked her neck.

Erik talked her through her nut while he continued to chase his. It wasn’t long before he felt his dick throb and grow inside of her. Pulling out he climbed on top of her holding his body up with one hand pressed into the bed as he stroked his dick with the other. Y/N opened her mouth and sucked his tip. She could feel his seed spilling on her tongue and traveling down her throat. She wasn’t usually a swallower but the way he had just fucked her he deserved to have his dick milked.

“Ahh shit!” Erik cursed caressing her jaw as he watched her suck him dry. She was cleaning both her juices and his nut off of his dick.

A popping sound escaped her mouth when she released him. Y/N’s body couldn’t move as she laid back staring at him with disbelief. Erik caught her face expression.

“What?” He asked standing on the side of the bed.

“Nothing. It’s just the rumors that I heard about you were all true. You do give some good dick.” Turning to lay on her side Y/N smiled.

Erik laughed. “Yeah well I could say the same about you.”

Her brows knitted in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Little birdy that goes to your college told me about how good ya pussy was. Had to find out for myself.” He smirked at her.

“Erik what are you talking about?” Y/N sat up.

“I’m talking about your ex that you fuck from time to time is my second cousin. Nigga couldn’t stop running his mouth about you. Small world ain’t it?”

He paused watching the confusion clouding over her face. “Besides why else you think I had hit you up tonight? It damn sure wasn’t to reminisce over the past.”

Taking off the wife beater, Erik leaned down to kiss her lips before walking away.

______________________________________

Please excuse any mistakes!

Tag-List

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[puckyess]

4 Times His Teammates Said “I Love You” + 1 Time He Did | Ryder Donovan

S/o to @penaltbox for being my favorite brainstorm partner and encouraging the hell out of me. Inspo: @that-fandom-stuck-in-your-head 

I found the one TikTok that was deleted, so now all TikToks are linked!!

** FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED **

Words: 7.5k

Shay Donovan 

You weren’t allowed to have favorites on the team outside of Ryder, but if you did it would be Shay hands down. The relationship you had with him was like that of a brother. He watched out for you and you for him. You’d play the part of his best wingwoman and he supported your relationship with his brother. You’d fight like siblings too. He knew exactly which buttons to press and you knew how to get under his skin. You knew each other well and this is what made you two Ryder’s worst nightmare. You constantly ganged up on him with his brother. You were able to get Ryder to do/fall for just about anything and that made you Shay’s favorite secret weapon.

The boys had some free time this weekend and wanted to make the 5 hour drive to Duluth to spend it on their boat since it would probably be one of the last times they would get to do so with the season ramping up. Ryder’s annoyance for you and Shay began promptly at 6 a.m. He was not a morning person and you definitely weren’t either, but Shay insisted you both get up early so that you get to the boat at a decent time in the day. He did not however, set his alarm for 6 a.m., rather 6 p.m. and was awoken by his brother’s shouts to get out of bed. You, on the other hand, were just running late because you thought you could get ready in a shorter amount of time than was realistic. By the time you and Shay make it down to Ryder, who already has the car packed and ready to go, he’s huffy. “You guys know I hate when you tell me a specific time and then you show up late”.  “Well this should be a fun trip, right Rizzer?”, Shay speaks up with fake enthusiasm. You shoot Shay a look from the front seat as a signal to shut the hell up, to which Ryder appreciates.

The first hour is pretty smooth, not a whole lot of talking going on in the car. Everyone just appreciating the sunrise, or at least that’s what you thought until you glanced in the backseat and saw Shay sound asleep. At your “awh” Ryder moved his eyes from the road to the rear view mirror. “So that’s why it’s been so peaceful”. Even though you laughed you gave Ryder’s hand that was on your thigh a light squeeze. “Don’t be so grumpy Rydes. This is going to be a fun weekend, I just know it”. He can hear the smile in your voice without even looking over and he knows you’re right, flashing you his signature bright smile of his own.

As if he knew he was being talked about, Shay begins to stir. The quietness is disturbed immediately upon his awakening. He takes over the AUX and the road tripping can finally begin. Him and Ryder argue over music, whether to play alternative or country and which has more of a summer vibe, until finally a summer playlist, containing both is chosen. You pick up your phone, scrolling through some Tiktoks when you find one you just have to send to Shay. You watch as he gets the notification and opens it immediately. The music is broken up, replaced with the voice of a guy saying, “Send this to someone you don't like. You look like a rat, and you are so fat. I would be so sad, if i looked like that”. You’re dying laughing in the front seat at the offended look on Shay’s face and the death glare he’s receiving from Ryder. “I hate you” is all Ryder spits out, as this is a regular occurrence in any car ride. You love how you can get Shay in trouble without even really trying and how Ryder only yells at his brother when you’re the one who sent it to him.

The rest of the ride is spent on the highway and though you love the singing of the boys in the car with you, you’re getting pretty bored just watching the trees pass by so you say, “Let’s play a game!”. They both look at you like you’re 12.

“What? It’ll be fun I promise”. They shoot you skeptical looks, but ask what the game is anyway.

“It’s like license plate bingo kind of. You see the type of car first, you call it out and then you get to punch whoever you want”, you say with a shrug.

“Ooo, I like this game”, Shay says rubbing his palms together as he studies the list of “rules” you sent him: Slug bug, no punchbacks. PT Cruiser, get a bruiser. Tacoma, put you in a coma. Kia, wouldn’t wanna be ya, could be substituted with kia kick. Big truck, no luck. Subaru slap. Jeep jab. Honda hit. Train, feel the pain. You read them out loud to Ryder so that he can play too while he drives. Ryder shakes his head as you continue down the list, clearly not as impressed as Shay was.

“Where do you come up with this stuff, Y/N?”, but he agrees to participate nonetheless.

The rest of the ride is now much more exciting, everyone on high alert for a vehicle that would allow them to inflict pain on a passenger. You and Shay are admittedly better and much more active in the game since Ryder has to also pay attention to the road. As a result, he also ends up taking most of the hits, both from you and his brother. Everytime you would excitedly jab him, he’d give you puppy dog eyes. He was easy pickings, as he was right next to you, but the sad eyes did make you choose Shay as your target a little more often.

After Shay slugs Ryder in the arm for about the fifth “Kia, wouldn't wanna be ya”, his personal favorite, Ryder expresses his annoyance for the game. “This is abuse. I can’t even play right since I’m driving. The only person I can hit is Y/N, and unlike some people”, he says, shooting you a look, “I don’t enjoy hitting my significant other”.

You just roll your eyes at him, but Shay is quick to jump in, unhappy that Ryder is squashing his fun. “Awh can widdle brudder not take a few punches? You’re going soft, Ryder” Shay says with his fake baby voice.

You know it grates on Ryder’s nerves like no other so you call the game quits before they engage in an argument in the small space. Luckily, you were just pulling into the drive leading to where the Donovan’s call home. Getting out of the car Shay throws an arm around you, “I liked our game, Y/N. Very fun. We should play it more often”.

You all enter the house long enough to drop off the bags and pack some snacks for the boat. Shay leans over to you. “Want to see something funny?”, he asks with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. You raise your eyebrow at him in response. “I’m going to get Ryder in trouble with only four words”, he promises. You use your hand to gesture him on to whatever it is he has planned.

“OW, Ryder! Ryder, stoppp!” He suddenly yells. Ryder, who was digging through the fridge, turns around, giving Shay a confused look as if to say “Wtf”.

“Ryder, seriously! Stop!”, he continues yelling.

“Knock it off!”, their mom calls down from upstairs. Ryder’s clued into what’s happening now, giving his brother a little shoulder check as he passes him to drop the strawberries on the island, just in time for his mom to come around the corner.

“Ryder stop!”, Shay yells at his brother one last time for good measure.

“Seriously, Ryder? You two are home for not even two minutes and you’re already trying to test my patience? And with a guest in the house. Did I teach you boys nothing?”, she reprimands her sons and you have to hide your smile as Shay’s plan plays out accordingly.

She’s bringing you in for a hug then and eventually her two sons the same. She catches up with the boys for a few minutes, but knows they’re impatient to get to the boat so she doesn’t chat for long.

Once she leaves the room you turn to Shay, “I have to say, I’m impressed. I didn’t think it would be that easy.” Shay has a very pleased smirk on his lips.

“I used to do it when we were kids, all the time. Good to know it still works now too, isn’t that right, Rydes?” he says nudging his brother.

Ryder looks back and forth between you and his brother, shaking his head. “You were in on this? You two are the worst. I’m about to drive back to Wisconsin and leave you both here”, he says with a huff.

Unfortunately for Ryder, your antics with Shay weren’t finished yet. While he was driving the boat, Shay had found a Tiktok that he wanted to make, but he needed your help to do it. You were lounging at the front of the boat when Shay brought it to you, explaining his plan.

“Okay, so I’m going to sit over there and just act like I’m on my phone, but I’m actually going to be filming. You’re going to put your fingers like this”, he says showing you  his thumb and pointer finger touching like in the ok sign, “and then tell him to do that on his chin, but put it on your cheek. “I want to see how many times it’s going to take him to get it right. My bet is 5. You in?”.

You felt bad goading your boyfriend like that, but you knew he was the perfect victim for it. You loved Ryder, but he was a little slow to catch onto things sometimes. The punchline of jokes? Not his thing, he’d get it a few seconds after everyone else and even then, sometimes you weren’t really sure if he even got it then. It was a wonder how he played such a fast paced game and came up with chirps on the fly. Mulling it over once more, you finally nodded your head. “Yeah, I’m in, but $10 says it’s going to take him 8”, you say with a wink.

Shaking on it, he says, “I like the way you think. You have a deal”.

Getting up you go over to your boyfriend, trying not to feel guilty. “Babe, I have a test for you”, you say as innocently as possible.

“And what is that?”, he asks, giving you his full attention.

“Put this,” Showing him the same sign Shay showed you, “on your chin”, demonstrating for him, placing the ok sign on your cheek.

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Is this a tiktok or something?” he asked, looking around for your phone. Your eyes widened with fake offence as you pointed to your phone over on your towel. “Babe, do you see me filming? My phone is way over there. It’s fine. Just put this on your chin”, you said, once again demonstrating for him.

He looked around, still suspicious. “You’re not going to hit me right? This isn’t another one of your ‘beat up on Ryder games’?” You shook your head, promising him you wouldn’t even touch him. Satisfied with that, he gave in to your request, like he always did and copied your actions. Meanwhile, Shay was trying his hardest to remain camouflage but his brother’s predictable actions were making it very difficult to not start laughing behind his phone.

You repeated your phrase again, “Put this on your chin” and he again mirrored your movements, putting his ok sign on his cheek and looking at you expectantly. You tried again, enunciating the “this” as you watched him. He again put his fingers on his face.

You tried not to laugh, repeating the phrase, trying to clue him in as you said the words slowly this time. “Put this on your chin.” He studied you real hard this time, but copied your placement exactly with his ok sign on his cheek.

You tried again, “Put this,” showing him your ok sign in front of his face and speaking slowly, “on your chin”. This time the poor boy grabbed your wrist, bringing your ok sign to HIS cheek and waiting for your approval. This time you had to let out a little chuckle and as you glanced over at Shay he was ready to bust a gut trying to hold back his laugh. You tried to compose yourself, as you tried to get your boyfriend to do the simple task.

“Put this on your chin” you practically yelled at him. Even though he was frustrated with what you were saying, he had a big smile on his face because you did. “I’m not fucking stupid” he said through laughs and grabbed your hand with two hands this time and put it on his cheek.

You were really laughing now, pulling your hand away and trying one last time. “Ryder. Put this. On your chin”, you said hoping this time would stick. But nope. The boy really put that okay sign on his damn cheek and really had the audacity to look at you to say he did it right.

You took a deep breath, trying to catch your breath from laughing so hard. “On your chin”, and he just looked at you, processing what you just said and then finally his hand shot to his chin and he started laughing again. “Oh shit”. You started cheering for him and Shay practically exploded from his spot as he fell to the floor laughing.

“Oh my god. That was too good. I’m so posting this”, he said between laughs.

“I believe you owe me 10 bucks, Shay. Pay up”, you responded with your hand out.

Ryder once again was stuck looking between you and Shay. “You set me up!” he accurately accused. “And you BET on it? You bet against me?” he said, turning to you. Seeing the hurt look on his face you felt bad.

“Rydes I didn’t bet against you per say, I just guessed how many times it might take you to catch on to what I was saying. I love you though”, you say as you run your fingers up and down his arms at an attempt to get him to forget your tricks. He’s not pleased with your answer though.

Now you’re pouting and sticking your lip out at him, throwing Shay under the bus. “It was Shay’s idea!”.

“Dude!” Shay exclaims.

You roll your eyes at him, “Oh like he didn’t already know”.

The slight frown on Ryder's face had turned into a small smile as he spoke to Shay. “I can’t believe you turned my own girlfriend on me. You guys are being extra annoying today”.

“It’s all for the tiktok, bahd” Shay answers with a shrug, unbothered by his brother’s annoyance.

You, however, spent the rest of the afternoon trying to suck up to Ryder.

“I hate you,” you said as you passed Shay to get to the cooler to fetch Ryder a drink for the fifth time as part of your penance. Shay just grins up at you, shooting you a wink. “I love you too, my little partner in crime”.

---

The following weekend you’re out with the guys, walking down State Street and a car passes your group. Shay glances at you and then Ryder and an ear splitting grin takes over his features. Lightning fast he hits Ryder, yelling “Lamborghini, hit you in your weenie!”.

You stop in your tracks as your boyfriend doubles over in pain and you double over in hysterics. The guys, as well as the few passerbyers who had heard Shay’s outburst look on in confusion.

As you finally catch your breath you move to help your still struggling boyfriend. You crouch down so you can see his face as you ask if he’s okay, but his grimace tells all. There’s nothing you can really do for him but let him breathe it out so you stand back up, high-5ing Shay. “That was pretty good,” you say shaking your head at the memory of what just happened and your road trip from last weekend.

“How long did it take ya to come up with that one?”.

He proudly announces that he’s been thinking of new ones to add to the list all week.

“Whoever introduced you two was a real idiot and is 100% regretting that decision” Ryder says from his still bent over position. You only offer your hand to help him stand straight in response.

Shay’s animatedly trying to explain the game to the boys, who all seem very excited to play. They spend the rest of the walk to KK punching each other and calling out the phrases as they search the cars lining the sides of the road. You walk a few steps behind them with Ryder leaning on you for a little support and maybe some protection.

“You’ve really created a monster now” he sighs, watching the boys.

All of a sudden he strikes your arm. “PT Cruiser, get a bruiser!”, he hollers and takes off down the street, suddenly fine. He looks back at you with a big grin.

You shake your head, “Smooth, Ryder Donovan, smooth” and you chase after him.

Mike Vorlicky

Being in a group chat with a bunch of hockey players meant that you were no stranger to your phone blowing up with nonsense, but you knew the boys were at practice, as Ryder had left for it 15 minutes ago, so when you heard more pings from your MacBook- 4 in a row to be exact -  all from Mike, you knew something was up. Quickly checking your phone, your brows knit as you read the succession of messages, confirming your suspicion that something was definitely up.

“Y/N! SOS.”

“I know you have your phone, I NEED YOU”

“Come on my ass is about to be shipped back to Edina”

“Y/N! I hate to do this, but Ryder got hurt on the way to practice. I mean like really hurt”.

The messages didn’t make sense, but the last one had you calling Mike immediately.

“Oh, thank God-'' he answered, but you cut him off, wanting to know about the status of your boyfriend.

“What happened? How is Ryder? Where are you?”. The pause on the other end of the line had your heart beating in your ears, filled with anxiety and worry for your boyfriend, at least for a moment.

When you heard “Dude she’s gonna kill you” from Cole in the background, a different emotion filled you.

“Mike Vorlicky, what the HELL is going on?”

Despite the anger and annoyance in your voice, Mike still let out a smug chuckle. “I knew that last one would get you to answer your damn phone. But listen-“

“So he’s fine? Nothing happened?”, you asked just to be sure.

When Mike lets out a nervous chuckle you release the breath that you had been holding. “I should hang up on your ass right now, Vorlicky. You can’t just-“

“No seriously, Y/N this is important. You can yell at me later, but will you pleaseeee, pretty please with a cherry on top please bring me my practice jersey? I was serious about coach shipping me out. This is like the third time. He’s gonna bench me next game and my parents are coming to this one...”.

Even though you were extremely pissed off at him for even speaking into existence your boyfriend getting hurt, you also couldn’t deny him or any of the boys when they needed your help and he knew that. After letting out a groan you asked him where the jersey was and made your way over to his dorm. Getting into his building was scarily easy and the jersey was surprisingly right where he said it would be, laid out on his bed. It’s a wonder how he forgot it.

Minutes later you were pulling up to the practice facility and walking through the glass doors that led to the rink. You were met with cool air and smiling faces. As the boys noticed you began to head your way, but not before Mike rushed over. He was coming so fast he barely had time to stop before he hit the boards and wrapped you in a hug, “I love you so much right now I could kiss you” he said, taking the jersey from your hands.

“Don’t even think about it, Vorlicky” Ryder called to him as he made his way through the boys to give you a quick kiss before the whistle blew signifying practice starting, just in time for Mike to slip the jersey over his gear.

Owen Lindmark

Cooking had never been your thing, still having never really gained that skill even after living on your own. But as much as it was not your best quality, it was even less so for the boys that were about to come crashing through your door any minute. Dating Ryder was amazing and equally as amazing were the 20 other boys who’ve you’ve come to call close friends that came along with him.

You had just gotten an air fryer and were excited to test it out. You’d been promising the boys you’d cook for them for weeks and figured what better time to do so than now. They had a big rematch coming up that weekend against PSU anyway so you had told Ryder to invite some of his teammates over for a mini team dinner.

You were pretty impressed with yourself you had to admit. Not only had you planned a full meal and dessert, you had timed it perfectly so that everything was just about finished as you heard the door unlock.

“Honey, I’m hooommee”, Shay called out as he dropped his bag in the pathway of the others behind him.

You shook your head as you stirred the marinara sauce one last time, knowing that the pet name bugged Ryder even though it was a movie line and he was so obviously joking.

“Dude it smells amazing in here”

“What’re we having?”

“I’m starving”, and curses could all be heard as the crew continued to pour into the apartment, the noise and chaos level instantly rising.

You cleared your throat and very dramatically tapped your spoon on your wine glass to gather the boys’ attention.

”First of all, everyone is to wash their hands before eating, please and thank you. Salad is already on the table. You guys can grab yourselves a plate, the pasta is over by the sink, the sauce is right next to it and then the chicken’s already been cooked in the air fryer so it follows your guys’ diets (kind of) and parmesan melted on it so you can just put that on top of the pasta. I have bread in the oven that I’ll bring out when it’s done. Oh and dessert for when everyone’s ready”. You barely finished your spiel before the boys were shoving each other to get in line.

Shay of course had battled his way to the front of the line, claiming seniority, Mike unsurprisingly behind him, followed by Lex, Owen, Cole and Dylan. For being as large as Dylan was, he had been easily bullied to the end of the line. Ryder stuck around, wrapping you in a hug and placing a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“You’re amazing for doing this. The boys haven’t shut up about it all week. You really went all out didn’t you, babe?” He asked with a proud smile on his face. His little acknowledgment coupled with how proud he looked made you blush. You knew he wasn’t lying about the boys obsessing over this meal either, as you had been receiving daily texts from each of them about it.

“Don’t get too excited, you haven’t even tasted anything yet. What if it’s the worst Chicken parm, you’ve ever tasted in your life?” You asked pouring on the dramatics. It was your first time using the air fryer after all, you had no idea how it would turn out and you were a bit nervous, but had warned the boys ahead of time that they may be ordering pizza instead.

Your disclaimer was countered by moans coming from the living room, a chorus of them actually. You and Ryder share a look before busting out laughing. “I guess there’s your answer for ya.” He replies, followed by a “No one better be having sex out there”.

You shoo him along so that he can eat with his friends and you can grab the bread out of the oven. After slicing it and putting it on a plate you deliver it to the vultures in your living room and prop yourself on the armrest of Ryder’s chair, rubbing his back as he eats.

The boys don’t stop gushing about your cooking as they continue to shovel food in their mouths. “This is seriously- the best meal- no, scratch that- food- I’ve had in months”, Cole says between bites.

“Hey, I just made you that really good burger and Mac cheese thing last week and you gave it 5 stars!” Dylan protests.

You and Owen lock eyes and instantly start laughing. “Dyl, did it come in a red box with a glove on the front?” You ask, still giggling. His eyes light up, happy that you recognize it and he nods.

“Dude, that’s Hamburger Helper!” Owen howls.

“And an insult to Y/N’s cooking”, Alex chimes in.

”Even this salad is more gourmet than Hamburger Helper, sorry bro”, Cole adds.

At this point everyone’s laughing at Dylan’s expense, yourself included. He’s immediately apologetic, hoping he didn’t truly insult your cooking, which just eggs the boys on assuring him that he did in fact insult you.

“Yeah, that’s like comparing Wayne Gretzky and Shay in hockey, but for cooking”, Mike chirps, feeling the need to get involved.

”Nice one Mikey. Dylan fucks up, but let’s roast Shay”, Shay retorts.

You grin, loving being a part of the relaxed banter that’s going on but wave them off. Dylan attempts to grumble out his weak defense, claiming that he’s from Canada and didn’t know about Hamburger Helper, just making you giggle harder.

“Okay, okay okay,” you say in an attempt to calm yourself and the room down. You were wiping tears from your eyes. “I’m going to go get the dessert so you clowns can get out of my apartment”.

Once in the kitchen you opened the cabinet by the fridge and felt around for the plate of brownies you knew you’d hidden up there so that the boys, specifically your boyfriend, wouldn’t pick at them before dinner. You felt a pair of hands on your hips. You had expected it to be your boyfriend, but with his body slightly pressed against yours you knew it wasn’t him.

“Need some help?”, the voice confirmed your thoughts. It was Owen.

“Please”, you said, accepting his offer.

He grinned once he pulled the plate down and saw the perfectly proportioned brownies. You had used one of those baking pans that had individual brownie shapes so that every piece had four edges, the best part and Ryder’s favorite.

“I love these, my mom makes ‘em like that. Smart to keep these hidden from Ryder”, he says with a wink. Though his tone is light toward the end with the little chirp at Ryder, you don’t miss the hint of sadness that laced his voice in the beginning. And he doesn’t miss the look of concern on your face either.

He puts the plate down and leans against the counter. “I love you for doing this tonight. I really can’t thank you enough. I needed this, the laughs, the home cooked meal”, he confesses, running a hand through his hair.

“Missing home a little extra?” You ask, knowing exactly how he feels.

”You could say that. I know the guys and I don’t say it enough, but we love you and appreciate how much you take care of us and keep us sane. What you do for Ryder is obvious, but stuff like this that you do extra for us, making a really good dinner and dessert, always letting us hang out here, and come to you with our problems. It means a lot”.

Not really having words for all that he’d just told you, but wanting to show him you really did care for him too, you wrapped your arms around him and gave him a good squeeze.

“Awh, O. I don’t know what to say. You and the boys are like family to me. You always have a second home here.” The sentimental moment is broken up by Mike shouting about dessert and someone telling him to shut up and stop being rude.

“I guess we better get this dessert to the boys so they can get out of your hair”, he says grinning.

Before letting him go you pull back and say, “Tell your mom I said hi when you call her later”. He picks the plate of brownies back up and you make your way toward the rowdy group occupying your living room.

“You know me too well. But I surely will let her know. I’m sure she’ll appreciate you keeping me alive”, he says with a chuckle.

Dylan Holloway

Everyone was huddled close together in the dimly lit booth as it came down to just Roman and Dylan, each with two fingers on the full pitcher in the middle of the table. The two boys were half out of their seats staring each other down. Roman had a smug smirk on his face as he watched Dylan sweat it out across from him, his mind clearly going a mile a minute.

The guys had just swept PSU and were definitely feeling themselves tonight. They decided to opt for the usual celebratory tradition of KK and Fingers, a game that Dylan was historically terrible at.

It was Dylan’s turn and he was still shaking his head, both at himself for overthinking a simple drinking game and at Roman who was continuously chirping him, which was not helping him decide. He only hoped the winning luck of the night would continue as he began counting down, “Three, two, one - two!”, Roman yanked one finger off the pitcher as Dylan left his two on, for a total of three fingers.

The team erupted as Dylan threw his hands in the air, “Fuck! I always lose this stupid, fucking game”.

“Drink up, bud!”, Roman chided him, pushing the pitcher closer to him on the table.

Dylan just groaned and stared at the full pitcher of unknown alcohol with a grimace.

“Come on, Dyl, you know the rules. Or at least you should, you’ve lost enough times by now”, Shay chirped from behind him. You felt bad for the guy because Shay wasn’t wrong. Of the handful of times you had watched and played the game, Dylan had lost all but maybe twice.

“You’re right Shay, maybe we should spice it up this time, eh? What do we think boys?” Mike suggests with a devilish smile and a rub of his palms. You don’t miss the look that he shares with Roman and your eyes narrow in on the boy who suddenly has a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Dylan, I dare you to go ask that girl for her number”, he challenges, nodding toward a blonde who had been looking over at the group.

Following his gaze you notice who exactly it is that he pointed out and you choke on your drink. You want to stop Dylan before he makes a fool out of himself, but he easily gulps down the pitcher and quickly makes his way over to the girl waiting for him. You can’t get your words out as you’re sputtering and coughing from your drink.

When you finally catch your breath you give Roman a shove and hiss “Fuck you Ro. What’re you doing? Aren’t you talking to that girl?”. He doesn’t answer, just shrugs as he watches on with a smirk plastered on his face, as if he knows exactly what is going to happen. Ryder nudges you in confusion at your little interaction with his teammate. Moving closer to him you filled him in on the unknown drama that was going on. “I played wingwoman for Roman a couple weeks ago so that he could pick up this same girl. Of course with my 90% success rate, he got her and I guess kept her. He’s been texting me about her all week”.

Suddenly understanding, he said “You have to go save D. The guys will never let him live this down” and you knew he was right. A freshman hitting on an older guy’s girl? Even if it was on a dare and even if her and Roman were just talking, it would still be embarrassing on Dylan’s part and chirp content for the team for the weeks to come.

So with a flip of your hair and a pat to Roman’s head you strode over to where Dylan was flirting with the blonde. He was really pulling out all the stops trying to earn this girl’s number, you had to give him that. You would even say that it actually appeared to be going well, but judging by the look that was on Roman’s face, you knew it wouldn’t end well.

“Excuse me, mind if I borrow him real quick? No? Ok great, thanks! I’ll give him back in just a second!”. You gripped his wrist with both hands and all but yanked him off the barstool until he was stumbling toward you, very confused. Once you were a few feet away, you steadied him with your hands. He was clearly annoyed with you.

“What the hell, Y/N? what’re you doing? I need to get back there. Things were actually going well”.

“And you will, D just listen to me for a second. I’m trying to help you here”.

“Help me? What’re you talking about?”.

“Dylan, Roman’s been talking to that girl for weeks now. He’s just trying to set you up because he knows she won’t actually give you her number because she’s with him so you end up coming back to the table empty handed and the guys can chirp you for weeks about trying to get with Roman’s girl”.

Realization washed over his face as he took in the situation. He glanced over at Roman’s now displeased but confused face and back at the girl who was seemingly waiting for him to return to the empty seat next to her.

“Whatever you have to do to get that number Dylan Holloway, do it. You can’t come back to that table empty handed, got it?”. He nodded furiously. “Good boy. Now go charm her pants off!” And with that you sent him on his way and returned to the group, all of whom were looking at you with quizzical faces.

You just shrugged it off saying, “He just wanted me to check if he smelled like beer. I guess she hates that stuff, only drinks Claws.” With that, Roman shoots you a look, knowing that was a load of shit and a jab at him. Her hatred of beer and love for white claws had been one of the many “fun facts” he had shared with you over the week. His attention turns as the guys erupt once again in cheers as the girl plants a kiss on Dylan’s cheek and sends him back to your table. He smiles victoriously as he stops in front of Roman. “I hope you don’t mind sharing your girl, she seems pretty into me”, he says and drops the napkin with her phone number on it on the table in front of Roman. The “ooos” and hollers from the boys are golden, but pale in comparison to the look on Roman’s face. Ryder fist bumps him and Dylan leans in to give your hand a squeeze, “I love you so much for that. The look on his face? Totally worth it. Really saved my ass. I owe you”.

+1

Ryder wasn’t one to overuse the phrase “I love you”. He held great value in those three words and reserved them for times when it was just the two of you or for when the moment deemed necessary. Today was one of those moments.

He had gotten home from practice early to find you out on his balcony wrapped in a blanket and your computer on your lap. He hadn’t thought much of it as he shed his bag and went to wash his hands and make a snack, but the door was cracked and he could hear a familiar laugh that wasn’t yours. He stopped what he was doing and listened for it again. As if right on cue, his baby sister’s laugh found his ears. He debated with himself whether or not he should make his presence known. Curiosity eventually winning out, he decided to wait it out and see what his two favorite girls were talking about. He’d be lying if he said his heart wasn’t ready to burst at seeing you voluntarily FaceTiming his baby sister.  

His snack forgotten, he sat himself on the couch out of view and just listened and watched. He watched the way your hair fluttered with the breeze, how you focused your attention on the girl on the screen, and nodded your head in agreement with whatever she was saying. He watched the way you interacted with his sister and couldn’t deny the feeling that was consuming him.

Even more so he watched the way Clara’s face lit up as you spoke to her, a look he’d seen before, one she reserved for her big sister. It was one of idolization, respect, and love. He watched her smile and her head tip back as she laughed with you like you were her best friend. Mostly he watched as the two of you had become part of each other’s lives in a way he hadn’t even known.

He listened to the beautiful sound of your laugh mix with hers and to the way both of your voices were so animated with each other. He listened as you spoke naturally with her, your kindness genuine instead of just treating her as some little kid. He knew she hated that but had unfortunately had her share of heartbreak by girls who only used her to get to him. He hated that he had caused her any kind of pain, but loved that you had somehow found a way to right his mistakes. He knew right then and there that he’d never take you away from her and she wouldn’t let him.

His thoughts were broken up by you reentering the apartment.

“Having a stalker moment there, Rydes?”, you ask him with eyebrows raised.

Deflecting the question, he clears his throats and instead asks what you guys were talking about. “Didn’t you hear the whole conversation already?”, you tease him. He just rolls his eyes, so you divulge as you pull stuff out to make dinner.

“We were just checking in. She was making sure you were still alive, taking your vitamins, treating me right, our usual. She had some drama stuff, but V is busy getting stuff ready for the baby so she didn’t want to bother her. Oh, and we’re planning your sister’s baby shower! Well, Clara’s in charge but she wanted my opinion on some details”.

The feeling he had before as he watched you two only intensified as he discovered what you had actually been talking about.

“What do you mean your usual?”

You’d stopped adding ingredients to the pot as you looked up at him, realizing you had just let Ryder in on something you hadn’t planned on. “Um. You know how you FaceTime Clara every week? Well uh, I do too...that’s ok right? That’s not like weird?”

He processed the information you had just told him. You actually took the time out of your busy life to get in touch with his sister every single week and were asking him if that was ok? He hadn’t even imagined you doing that, but you continued to amaze him. The smile he gave you was so warm and full of love. “Of course that’s okay. I love that you do that and I’m sure she does too. I saw the way she looks at you, you know. The same way she looks at V.” Your heart swells at his comment and you almost start crying on the spot.

“So she’s coming to you with drama huh? Anything I should know about?”. You laugh and default to “girl code” aka Ryder doesn’t get any deets. Despite his best efforts, including puppy dog eyes, he doesn’t get anything out of you.

“You’re MY girlfriend, you can’t let my sisters convert you to their side already” he whines.

You laugh and respond with “Well would you rather I convert to your brother’s side? I’m sure Shay could pitch a good argument.” He looks offended that you’d even say such a thing and grumbles out a “no”.

After he’s decided he’s done pouting he comes around the counter and wraps his arms around you from behind, nuzzling his face into your hair. “You told Clara I treat you well, right?” He questions, still thinking about your conversation with her. You’re surprised to detect nervousness in his question and that he’d even ask that. Turning in his arms you answer him, wanting him to see the conviction in your face when you say “Of course, Ryder. You don’t ever need to doubt that, baby”. He looks relieved and surprises you again with a confession.

“Good. I want Clara to see how she should be treated. What good love looks like, a healthy relationship, ya know?”.

Tears start form in your eyes and it takes you a second to find your voice. Eventually you do and you gently pull his face down to yours, running  your thumb over his cheek. You melt over the way he leans into your touch. Even though your voice is barely above a whisper, it’s strong as you tell him, “You’ve made me the happiest I’ve ever been. You show me what love is everyday and inspire me to be better for you and for me. You are such a role model to her Ryder. When she looks at us, I promise you all she will see is genuine, pure love.”

His heart is beating so hard as he absorbs your words. He takes your wrist and pulls your hand to his lips. He kisses your palm then cups your face in his hands, bringing your foreheads together. His own eyes are glassy and throat thick as he tries to put what he’s feeling into words that will convey the same amount of strength and emotion. “Every time I think ‘she can't get any better’ you surprise me. Well not surprise me because I’m not surprised you get better, but- fuck! I can’t get my words out right now.” He can feel you smiling and takes it as a sign to keep going.

“What I’m trying to say is you keep loving me and showing me that you love me in new ways that I didn't even know existed. You’re always taking care of me before games, after games and practices. Even just asking about practice and my day and coming to my games, waiting up for me after road trips. The highs of winning and you right there with me are amazing, but what I love most and what are even better are when you sit there and watch us lose, me lose and you just know how to deal with me afterwards. I can’t tell you how much it helps me to have you hold me after a game or offer dessert or just let me bitch about it. The lows are better because you still want me after. Like even if I couldn’t play hockey anymore, you’d still want me. You still believe in me to do better next game. You inspire me to be better. Off the ice especially”, he takes a deep breath then and as badly as you want to say something, you don’t interrupt him knowing he still has more to say. 

“You’ve shown me what it feels like to be loved. Really, truly loved. You take care of my friends, regardless of what they need and you do so out of the goodness of your heart. Watching you with my family, I can’t ever imagine you being anywhere else but a part of my family, Y/N. The fact that my favorite people in the entire world love you makes me so happy I can’t even describe it. You’re FaceTiming my baby sister of your own free will, planning a baby shower with her for my other sister? You keep up with Shay and get Boden out of his shell. I couldn’t dream it up better if I tried. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but somehow I was blessed with you and I swear to you, promise you I will never stop loving you, ok? I love you with my whole heart and then some, Y/N”.  

The tears are absolutely streaming down your face and into his hands and his into yours. The moment had gotten so intense and so fast. These were rare between you two, preferring to keep the relationship light and fun, but occasional moments like this where you attempted to pour your whole heart and soul into each other would occur and you were left breathless every time. But of course, you couldn’t resist a good chirp.

“You’re gonna have a hard time topping that for a proposal, Donovan”.

[loykorela]

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[frankendykes-monster]

"Godzilla [1954] was made at a time of rising anti-American sentiment. A flood of popular novels and magazines critical of American policy, as well as radio programs and newsreels, had appeared after the Occupation. There were 210,000 US troops stationed in Japan, and accounts of GIs and ex-servicemen committing rape, murder, and other crimes with impunity fanned the flames of resentment; anti-US views were espoused by college students and conservative politicians alike. Several Japanese movies exposed the ugly American and his arrogance; even [Ishiro] Honda's Young Tree and Inao would make brief asides on the subject a few years later. Simultaneously, the Americanization of Japanese populat culture that began in the 1920s continued, as youths embraced American fashion, jazz music, and movies. And the surging economic recovery was dependent on America, which was Japan's primary trade and also using its influence to help Japan enter European markets.

Yet, despite the tremendous shadow it cast, America is conspicuously absent from Godzilla. International advisers arrive in Tokyo; but except for several Caucasian faces in the back of the room, the West is invisible throughout the film. The American military's complete uninvolvement in the crisis might be interpreted as a reflection of national anxiety over the Treaty of Mutual Cooperation and Security, which was signed by Japan and Washington in September 1951. Known by the acronym AMPO in Japanese, the lopsided pact allowed the United States to keep military bases in Japan as an Asian bulwark against Soviet communism and required Japan to defray part of the cost. America was permitted to defend Japan against external threats and to suppress internal ones, yet the treaty did not explicitly guarantee protection by the US military, an omission that would make AMPO a political lightning rod for years. The treaty also remilitarized Japan by authorizing the Japan Self-Defense Forces (JSDF), a contingent of 150,000 ground, sea, and air troops established in March 1954. Yet under Article 9 of Japan's US-written 1947 constitution, Japan had renounced "war as a sovereign right of the nation." There were concerns that the constitution prohibited Japan from defending itself, worries that the JSDF was too small and underequipped, and fears that America would not honor its role as Japan's primary defender. Notably, in the film Japan battles Godzilla without American help.

"The story proceeds as a purely domestic affair", notes historian Yoshikuni Igarashi. "Godzilla...is subsequently killed by Japanese without external assistance...In 1954, the concerted attack that the film portrays would have been possible only with the help of American forces. Nevertheless, the [Self-Defense Forces]...are solely responsible for the attacks against Godzilla. If the [monster] indeed embodied American nuclear threats, it is only logical that the Japanese forces alone should attack. The American forces by definition could not." Anxieties about national security are mirrored: Japan's fledgling military cannot halt the monster's massive onslaught, though fighter planes eventually succeed in driving it back to the sea, to the cheers of civilians. The EIRIN ratings board, in approving the screenplay on July 8, 1954, included a requirement that the film portray Japan's new military "with the upmost care and respect."

As Igarashi points out, "There is not even a hint of [American] responsibility in the...destruction of Tokyo by the monster." Godzilla's ties to the atomic bomb have nevertheless led some Western critics to mischaracterize Honda's film as anti-American. Several contemporary Japanese scholars, meanwhile, have interpreted Japan's military self-reliance and the monster's reenactment of wartime destruction as "ambivalent notions of nationalism and anti-nuclear ideology," writes critic Inuhiko Yomota. In recent decades, influential film scholars have interpreted Godzilla as evoking a powerful national trauma, with the monster symbolizing the restless ghosts of Japanese soldiers lost in the Pacific War, a concept inspired by the postwar essays of folklorist Kunio Yanagita. Among those popularizing this view is prominent critic Saburo Kawamoto, whose 1994 book Revisiting Postwar Japanese Film theorized that these souls had taken the form of Godzilla and returned; as evidence, Kawamoto offers the monster's deference to the prewar order. "Those who died in the war are still under the spell of Japan's emperor," Kawamoto writes, therefore "Godzilla cannot destroy the Imperial Palace."

However, Honda's own attitudes toward Godzilla, the bomb, America, and his own country are more nuanced and complex; the film is not an anti-US polemic but an even-handed treatment of the tenuous and asymmetrical Japan-US relationship, casting light on both the invisible hand of American hegemony and the spineless politicians who are more concerned about safeguarding Japan's client-state relationship with Washington than about the welfare of the nation. Just as some real-life leaders tried to downplay the Lucky Dragon incident, legislators move to suppress information about Godzilla's ties to the H-bomb, wary of antagonizing Uncle Sam. As Godzilla approaches Tokyo, one politician frets not about the threat to public safety, but to international shipping. Godzilla doesn't think much of national leadership. It demolishes the Diet building, Japan's equivalent of Capitol Hill.

Honda does not depict all Western influence, Occupation reforms, and new attitudes negatively. Women's suffrage was enacted in 1945, and the first female member of the Imperial Diet was elected in 1946, changes mirrored by the fiery women's caucus that insists Godzilla's radioactivity be revealed. Emiko's decisive role in the drama and her rejection of arranged marriage also point to the changing times. Emiko is openly dating Ogata, with no fear that her father will forbid their relationship. Issues of class status, and clashes between old and new values, create less conflict than in Honda's other works. Yamane is respected and well off, evidenced by his large home and television set (broadcasting began in 1953, and only the affluent could afford a TV as yet); but he allows his daughter to date a working-class sailor, and he adopts the poor island orphan Shinkichi (Toyoaki Suzuki) into his family. The Odo people are backwater folk - there is a funny moment when their mayor awkwardly tells the senate about cows and pigs eaten by Godzilla - yet the Tokyoites don't ridicule their superstitions, as Ryo Ikebe did in The Blue Pearl. Yamane names the monster after an Odo Island legend, simultaneously linking Godzilla to modern science and old mythology, and to America's atomic bomb and indigenous Japanese folklore and culture. In this way, Honda shrouds the monster's origin in mystery. It's not perfectly clear whether Yamane's theory is correct, or if the creature is a god, or both.

An early draft of Kayama's story began with the Lucky Dragon No. 5 returning to Japan, directly linking Godzilla's birth to America's hydrogen bomb. Honda saw his monster not as an indictment of America but of a symbol of a global threat, so he rewrote the scene. The vessel destroyed in the opening scene is a fictional one, though a lifebuoy on deck is labeled "No. 5."

"I did not want to [reference] the Lucky Dragon," Honda said. "If I did, I would have to [show how the] creature was born from that explosion. The screenplay is written with the 'speculation' that this creature was a result of a nuclear test, you see. I think that if I visually showed that [the bomb created the monster], that would have gone too far and I would not be surprised if people came out to protest such a film."

"Putting a real-life incident into a fictional story with a monster would not be appropriate. Instead, it became a matter of...the feeling that I was trying to create as a director. Namely, an invisible fear...the creation of the atomic bomb had become a universal problem. I felt this atomic fear would hang around our necks for eternity."

-"

- Ishiro Honda: A Life in Film, From Godzilla to Kurosawa, by Steve Ryfle and Ed Godziszewski

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

Bloom From Nowhere

The town that contained them for 21 years had become too small for them. When they'd graduated high school, arms linked in promise, they told everyone they were getting out of this one-story town. They feared, after a few years of working and saving up as much as they could, that maybe they had been lying; really, they were just waiting for the perfect, hurried moment. Nothing was more motivating than procrastination. It was about time they moved on.

Rosenda packed in a flurry, excitement and anxiety beating wildly in her chest as she threw necessities into a positively ancient suitcase she found at the bottom of the hall closet. She carefully folded and packed her favorite shirts: a green and blue striped top that fell from her shoulders toward the center of her chest, a crimson rayon top with ruffles from the neck to the bottom of her bust and a keyhole opening that showed off her modest cleavage, as well as her beloved Lord of the Rings quote t-shirt and a modified tie-dye t-shirt she got from Forever 21 that read “California Dreamin'” in a stitched Coca-Cola-style font. She added her comfiest pairs of jeans (two – light wash and black), a pair of brown capris, and a pair of denim cut-offs. A dress made it in there, too – a flowy turquoise summer dress that she saw on sale last summer and had to resist wearing it every day – and some jewelry, makeup, socks and underwear and a pair of tan-colored flip flops. If she needed anything else, she figured, she'd ask her mother to send it along once she was settled somewhere – after her mother started speaking to her again, of course.

Only a few hours earlier they'd determined that they would leave, so with what little time was left, she drove straight to the bank and withdrew all of her savings. The weight of the cash in her wallet that would only fit in her back pocket seemed heavier than she’d been expecting as she walked to her car, her phone in hand. She seemed to be waiting for a call, but why, she couldn’t tell – her plans with Gal were made already and they agreed to pack separately and meet up later. As she got into her silver 2004 Honda Civic (a car that she inherited from her mother, and besides that felt history, would not miss) and dropped her phone into the empty passenger seat, she felt the semblance of safety fall away. Every familiar red light she met on her way home looked like the call she was inexplicably waiting for, but once she pulled into the driveway, the expectation seemed far away.

Back in her room, she picked through her desk drawers for things she thought she might miss – photobooth strips of her with Gal and a couple of her high school friends, a lucky blue mechanical pencil she lost in high school more times than she could count that always managed to find its way back to her, a few small journals, and a homemade deck of Lord of the Rings themed playing cards that her middle school friend Liza made her one year for Christmas. She packed them, along with electronics and appropriate chargers and wires, into an extra travel bag where she packed the last important pieces of her future: drawing utensils, her most-used box of oil pastels, a newer set of paints, and three pads of drawing paper. Then, sitting on the edge of her bed leaning over her nightstand, she scribbled a note to her mother.

It’s been time for a while, hasn’t it? Even though I know how much you worry about me, I know you just want me to be happy. Bueno, gracias por eso. But take care of yourself, sí? Tú también mereces la felicidad. I'll be with Galia (who else?), so try not to worry about me too much. I know you trust her even though you'd like her to think you don't. We know you do, though. I’ll be okay. I’ll call you when I get somewhere new and beautiful. You understand, ¿a que sí? Te quiero tanto — Rosenda

Once she smoothed down her blankets again, she propped the note up against her pillow and stared at it for a few minutes. The blank edges of the note gave her something to focus on beyond everything that she was leaving behind in her childhood bedroom. When her eyes accidentally flicked upward, her gaze fell upon the yellow and black flag hanging above her bed that she’d rested her post-high school dreams on. She quickly looked away and sighed. 'Perhaps hope only blooms from out of nowhere and doesn’t grow from whatever you hang on the wall,' she deduced as her phone lit up with a text from Gal. I’m outside. That was why she’d never hung any photos of her with Gal on the wall. She wanted the unknown future to stay unknown for as long as possible.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

As soon as she throws her suitcase and bag into the trunk of the navy 2008 Subaru Outback and hops into the passenger seat, she looks over at Gal in the driver’s seat and finds herself staring.

“I don’t know what I was expecting,” she finally says.

Gal scoffs.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.” She picks at the thin threads holding on at the edge of a hole in the left knee of her jeans. “I just thought…like, it’d be a bigger deal or something.”

“Oh, this isn’t a big enough deal for you? Want me to honk the horn as I drive down the street, make people come out and see what all the fuss is about as we wave at them like princesses?”

“No!” she cries, and then immediately laughs. “I just meant…I don’t know. Does it feel like a big deal to you?”

Gal shrugs.

“Sort of.” In Gal-speak, Rose knows that means, Yes, absolutely, and I’m terrified and I’m not going to talk about it.

She glances at the phone in Gal’s hand, the bright screen glowing in the dimming cab as the outside light swiftly grows darker.

“I made a road trip playlist before I left, though.”

“Oooooh,” Rose says with genuine interest.

“Fuck yeah. We’re ready, babe.”

As they pull away from the curb of her childhood home, she chews on her lip. Passing by the quiet houses that line her block, lingering on the illuminated outdoor lights hanging beside front doors, she tries not to think about how they will change, how neighbors will move away and be replaced by new ones that her mother will have to adjust to or try hard to ignore. She looks over at Gal whose pale face is cast in a garish orange glow by the overhead street lights and she wonders, but doesn’t want to know yet, how they will change.

After a few hours of idle chatting – nothing deeper than what they did earlier today – and singing along loudly to their playlist, they pull into a quiet AM-PM gas station. As she watches Gal, standing tall with her eyes forward but her gaze faraway, fill the gas tank, she suddenly realizes what would make this seem more important. She pops the trunk and scrambles out of the car. Gal looks at her with furrowed eyebrows but says nothing, and Rose offers no verbal explanation as she grabs her suitcase and opens it, sifting through the clothes she hastily packed. Finally, she finds what she thought was a random dress she’d stuffed into the slightly emptier side of the suitcase and places it carefully over her left arm. Closing the suitcase and then shutting the trunk door, she gives Gal a smile and tells her that she’s going to the bathroom and will be back in a minute. Gal raises an eyebrow at the garment slung over her arm but nods and goes back to the arduous task of pumping gas and sort-of-not-really paying attention to her surroundings – they’re alone in the station, but who knows for how long.

When she walks into the store, she offers the too-tired-or-too-awake white cashier a smile and asks for the bathroom key. The strawberry blond man who looks to be in his 30s sighs and picks the key up off a tack in the wall at the end of the counter and hands it to her, gesturing toward the back of the store. She marches through the side aisle and then down a small hallway that ends with the plain-looking hefty green bathroom door. Once she opens the door, she wrinkles her nose at the soapy smell that seems to be trying to mask the torrent of years-old scents of bodily functions. The brown tile floor looks clean enough, but the once-white walls seem suspiciously grey, and she tries to ignore anything that looks remotely like a stain smeared on the wall.

Closing the door and placing the key on the edge of the sink, she drapes the dress over her shoulders and slips off a boot to remove her jeans. She’s barefoot, but they should stop into a hotel at some point later so they can shower. Removing her other boot, she then shimmies out of her jeans, conscious of the sound of denim sliding together down her legs and bunching around her ankles. She pulls them off and folds them up, setting them on the edge of the sink. Next, she pulls her shirt off over head and folds it and places it on top of her jeans, then steps into the dress and pulls it up to her chest and shoves her arms into the straps. After adjusting her bra not to poke out so noticeably above the cups of the dress, she finally looks in the mirror and notices the way the bust of the dress seems to stretch and she raises her eyebrows – her boobs have grown since she last wore this dress. She half turns and notices the way the gown’s soft polyester material curves over her rear and cascades down past her calves – at least it seems to fit better than the last time she wore it. When she turns around again and looks at her reflection straight-on, she sighs and suddenly feels shy. She remembers she has to walk back to the front of the store and return the bathroom key to the cashier, and what if there are other customers wandering around, just waiting to judge the other oddballs stopping in at gas stations at 1 o’clock in the morning?

Suddenly, she hears Gal’s voice on the other side of the door.

“Hey Rose, can you hurry it up in there? I wanna get back on the road.”

She pauses, looking at herself anxiously in the mirror and makes sure her mascara hasn’t run to her knees, and then begins to gather up her clothes.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m done.” She grabs the key off the edge of the sink and opens the door quickly to see Gal standing in front of her, waiting. When Gal notices the change in attire, her eyes widen.

“Is this what you meant by ‘a big deal’?” she asks.

Rose blushes.

“I feel silly, actually.” She’s still standing on the ground in her bare feet and she just remembers to grab her boots as well.

“Well…you look-” Gal pauses, apparently searching for some grand adjective to describe the woman before her, of Rose’s tan skin flushing under her stare and limber body draped in a vermilion gown, “-amazing.”

The word isn’t enough, but Rose recognizes the breathless way Gal ends her sentence and knows what she means. She smiles and hands Gal the key and adjusts her clothes in her arms and carefully holds her boots between her fingers on one hand.

They stand there for a minute, Gal admiring her, before Rose clears her throat and shifts her feet.

“Ready?”

Gal shakes her head, as though shaking herself out of a trance, and nods. Before turning around to leave the store, she smiles at Rose who returns the gesture.

As the two walk together through the store, Rose feels all anxiety regarding the trip fall away. Even as she walks barefoot in an evening gown through a random AM-PM store at 1AM clutching her discarded outfit, the presence of Gal beside her makes her feel light. She smiles again at the cashier as Gal drops the key onto the counter and nods goodbye to him and they leave the store, walking across the gas station parking lot to the Subaru on the other side of the gas pumps.

Gal rushes over to the driver’s side of the car so she can unlock the door for them, and as soon as she presses the button on the inside of the door, Rose reaches the passenger side door and pulls it open, a faint smile still present at the corners of her lips. She throws her discarded outfit and boots into the backseat and steps into the car, the material of her dress gathered by hand and tucked under her thighs. Once she closes the door, she looks over at Gal who is staring at her.

“What?” she asks self-consciously.

Gal keeps staring for a few seconds before she looks away into her lap.

“Nothing.” When she looks up again at Rose who is now staring at her, she laughs and shakes her head, grinning.

“You’re just-”

“’Too much’?” Rose asks, quoting her from years of knowing each other.

Gal pauses and her smile slackens a little bit.

“No. You’re beautiful and I just feel too lucky to be here with you right now.”

Rose feels her blood thrum quicker in her veins and she glances at their surroundings for a second.

“In this gas station?”

Gal laughs, and she watches the way Gal’s roomy mouth opens wide at the corners and reveals all the gaps between her straight teeth. She remembers when Gal confided in her that she hated her teeth, though she recognized how privileged she was that her teeth were taken such good care of in the first place. They were too straight, according to Gal – ‘Totally unlike me,’ as she’d put it with a wry smile. Rose meant to bat her on the arm for saying that, but instead she’d grazed her skin with her fingertips and watched the goosebumps rise on Gal’s arm in their wake. She enjoyed that reaction as much as she enjoys Gal’s laugh, so she smiles even as Gal’s laughter fades.

“I love you,” Gal says after a few seconds of silence, wearing a matching smile.

Rose reaches over to tuck Gal’s short dark hair behind her ear.

“That’s why I’m here,” she says. They stare at each other for a minute, Gal blinking in gratitude or awe, and then Rose eventually seems to zone out, away from them as they sit there though her eyes remain glued to a small, unassuming mole resting on Gal’s chin.

Even once Gal finally looks away and turns the key in the ignition, Rose continues to stare, only now at Gal’s cheek where a few more small, inconspicuous brown dots adorn her skin. Perhaps there is nothing more she wants to know then what is already there. Still, as Gal guides the Subaru away from the gas station and back onto the road, they move on.

[tonyb-blog]

Now that the simple format of the lockdown lookback posts are established (I write a few words then select a bunch of pictures from the time period in question), it’s time to move on with Part 5 of the series.

In Part 4 I had mentioned and included pictures from a terrific trip in 2009, down through Germany and onto Switzerland, this post (Part 5) covers: the second of my 2009 European trips (which was the first of my solo European biking trips) as well as a change of bike in 2010 from the GSX-R 1000 to the new Honda Fireblade CBR 1000cc RR8 as well as another very decent european trip with friends in 2010.

2010 didn’t start too well when I damaged the Suzuki GSX-R 1000, so much so that it needed to be retired from service. I replaced it with the excellent Fireblade, which was the bike I did the 2010 road trip on. There are four seperate picture galleries in this post and there are some pictures of the damaged Suzuki in Gallery 3. The fourth and final gallery has pictures from the 2010 road trip (Austria/Italy) with friends – the pictures in this fourth and final gallery are not all in the  correct chronological order as the trip unfolded.

I wrote a book about my first solo trip Superbike Across Europe – it’s available on Amazon in electonic (Kindle format) or in paperback you can check it out and buy it at this link

If you want to check out my non motorbike related posts you can do so at my rainycity blog. Click here to go there. If you want to follow me on Instagram – click here  If you want to follow this Blog and receive automatic updates when there is a new post please add your email in the subscribe box towards the top of the page.

You can earlier posts in this series by clicking these links: Part 1  Part 2,  Part 3 and Part 4

I’ve selected some pictures from 2009 and 2010, these pictures are in four gallerys so you will need to scroll down for the second set, third and fourth sets.

Clicking on any of the pictures should open a scrolable gallery, should work fine on a ‘phone but pictures are best viewed on tablet, laptop or desktop.

GALLERY 1 – SOLO EUROPEAN TRIP

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Malfunction – obviously

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GALLERY 2 – END OF THE ROAD FOR THE GSX-R 1000

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GALLERY 3 – GENERAL PICTURES FROM THIS PERIOD

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GALLERY 4 – ROAD TRIP 2010 (AUSTRIA/ITALY)

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lockdown lookback – motorbike years part 5 … Now that the simple format of the lockdown lookback posts are established (I write a few words then select a bunch of pictures from the time period in question), it's time to move on with Part 5 of the series.

[ygobigbang-archive]

Fic Summaries

Attention Artists!

Fic summaries are now available for you all to take a look at! Please be aware artist claims do not start until the 25th May, this is a preview so you can figure out what you might want to work on when you give us your Top 3.

You do NOT need to have registered as an artist to claim anything when claims open but if you’d like to register your interest now you can do so here. If you do, you’ll be e-mailed a link to the artist claims form when it goes up! Now that all the admin things are out the way enjoy and please reblog so all the YGO artists out there might see!!

Please be aware that claims will be done via Google Form where you must give your Top 3 and can give us up to your Top 5!

Edit: Forgot to actually update with the artist interest link so here it is.

Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters

DM1 Pairings: Yugi Mutou/Yami Bakura, Atem/Ryou Bakura, Atem/Thief King Bakura, Yugi Mutou/Ryou Bakura, Thief King Bakura/Ryou Bakura, Yugi Mutou/Thief King Bakura/Atem/Ryou Bakura, implied Yami Malik/Malik Ishtar (very minor) Characters: Yugi Mutou, Yami Bakura, Atem, Ryou Bakura, Thief King Bakura, Malik Ishtar, Isis Ishtar, Yami Malik, Seto Kaiba, Rishid Ishtar, Anzu Mazaki Content Warnings: Violence, Sex, Possession/Dubious Consent (not precisely sexual, but in the sense of using other people's bodies), Dark Comedy Summary: After receiving the Millennium Necklace during the events of Battle City, Yugi attempts to use it to see the events of the past, and inadvertently sets off a chain reaction of ancient magic. Now, separated from his partner and trapped in a dangerous pocket dimension spawned from Ryou's mind, Yugi must ally with Yami Bakura to survive horror movie monsters, treacherous terrain, and inclement weather, as in another dimensional rift, Ryou Bakura and Yami Yugi, likewise separated, begin to uncover the dark secret of Kul Elna. Meanwhile, back at the Battle City finals, Malik Ishtar finds himself the last man standing, stuck with the job of saving the world. In Anzu's body. Rating: Mature Art needed:  + 1 (one) completed art work OR 3 (three) panel greyscale sketched comic + 1 (one) coloured sketch OR 1 (one) greyscale line art OR 1 (one) graphic banner OR 3-5 (three to five) panel inked comic OR 5 (five) panel coloured sketch comic

DM2 Pairings: puzzleshipping, implied/light gemshipping Characters: Yuugi Muto, Atem, Thief King Bakura, Ryou Bakura, Mahad, Mana, Anzu Mazaki, Jounouchi Katsuya, Honda Hirota Content Warnings:  Foul Language, Fantasy Violence, Trauma Summary: After the memory world rpg, the Thief King, free of Zorc's influence, finds himself still attached to the Millennium Ring, still in the possession of one Ryou Bakura, with nowhere to go, no meaning to his existence, and a lot of lingering guilt. Meanwhile, Yuugi and Atem prepare for the duel between them meant to decide Atem's fate, and both discover they're unhappy with their options. Ryou, still trying to find meaning in his involvement with the Items, makes it his mission to get everyone the ending they deserve. As with most things in the post s0-verse, things get settled with a duel! Canon divergent, Fix-it, everyone lives (mostly) Rating: Teen Art needed:  + 1 (one) completed art work OR 3 (three) panel greyscale sketched comic + 10 (ten) 100x100 icons OR 1 (one) moodboard OR 1 (one) greyscale sketch OR 3-5 (three to five) panel coloured sketch comic

DM3 Pairings: Ishizu Ishtar x Mai Valentine Characters: Ishizu Ishtar, Mai Valentine, Noa Kaiba, Ishtar Family Content Warnings: Family struggles, coping with orientation Summary: Things are going so well with Mai, Ishizu forgets that she can't keep hiding her from her family. The choice ends up being taken away from her, and she has to find a way to cope. Rating: Teen Art needed:  + 1 (one) completed art work OR 3 (three) panel greyscale sketched comic

DM4 Pairings: Thief King Bakura/Ryou Bakura; Atem/Yugi Mutou  Characters: Thief King Bakura, Ryou Bakura, Pharaoh Atem, Yugi Mutou, Mahad  Content Warnings: PTSD, mentions of past character-death, mentions of past starvation, hey Atem your privilege is showing, brief Kemetic themes  Summary: When Ryou decides to use an ancient Egyptian artifact in the group's Monster World campaign, the last thing he expects is to find himself transported to the ruins of Kul Elna, the once-Village of Thieves, having taken the form of his white mage character. He also doesn't expect to encounter the self-proclaimed King of Thieves, sealed there three thousand years ago. Upon investigation, there seems to be a gap in history--a nameless Pharaoh, wiped from the records. Yugi, as he tries to help Ryou navigate these strange happenings, finds himself drawn into the spell, too--as his beast tamer character, he stumbles upon the nameless Pharaoh, Atem. For the past three thousand years, Atem and Bakura have been sealed there. Bakura skulks through the familiar streets, surrounded by lingering ghosts, while Atem pines for the palace he struggles to remember. In the desert, unable to enter Kul Elna, the demon watches from within his vessel, the High Priest of Darkness. He vows to get free from his prison, even as the mage Ryou promises to break the seal on behalf of the King of Thieves and the Pharaoh. Rating: Teen Art needed:  + 1 (one) completed art work OR 3 (three) panel greyscale sketched comic + 10 (ten) 100x100 icons OR 1 (one) moodboard OR 1 (one) greyscale sketch OR 3-5 (three to five) panel coloured sketch comic

DM5 Pairings: Yugi/Atem Characters: Yugi, Atem, Kaiba, Mahad, Ryou, Anzu, Jun, Judai Content Warnings: There is ONE (1) nsfw scene in it but very easy to skip/avoid. Summary: Atem, prince of a seaside kingdom. Yugi, prince to the merpeople of the sea. Worlds collide with one faithful encounter, and they find themselves enraptured with each other. But sooner or later, Yugi and Atem have to grow up, and their kingdoms are worlds apart. Follows the lives of Yugi and Atem throughout important moments in their lives. (Alternative title: No One Said Mutual Pinning With The Prince Next Door Was Easy) Rating: Explicit Art needed: +  2 (two) completed art work OR 3-5 (three to five) panel complete art comic

DM6 Pairings: N/A Characters: Yugi Mutou, Atem, Jounouchi Katsuya, Yami Marik, Bakura, Bakura Ryou, Seto Kaiba, Mokuba, Isis Content Warnings: Character death, very arguably. (Like, barely, but it's worth mentioning.) Summary: If you could do it all again, through a mirror... If you had that wish... It's a Yugioh DM Pokemon Mystery Dungeon AU! When Yugi wakes up as a Mareep with no memories, he's lucky to meet the Shinx Atem to help him out. Together they'll join Seto's branch of the explorer's guild and become an exploration team. However, Hunters, runaway princes, criminals who know Yugi's name, natural disasters, a wish deity looking for a good time, petty rival exploration teams, and a creeping darkness won't make this an easy job. And at night, when Yugi dreams, he sees steel and stars and wishes, and can't help but feel that he's done this all before... Rating: Teen Art needed: + 2 (two) completed art work OR 3-5 (three to five) panel complete art comic

DM7 Pairings: Puppyshipping, slight puzzleshipping, hints of Duke/Tristan Characters: Joey Wheeler, Seto Kaiba, Yugi Muto, Tristan Taylor, Ryou Bakura, Tea Gardner, Jaden Yuki, Atem Content Warnings: violence, a few gruesome deaths, a few gruesome descriptions, fights and battles, those flesh Eating scarabs from Hamunaptra even if they only appear for one short moment, undead murder Monkeys, hints of deadly rituals, character death, and Hirutani, who is his own warning, because he´s quite obsessed and his thoughts and Actions are quite disturbing Summary: The mummy returns AU. Egypt, 1929. Two years ago, Yugi and his friends fought chaos incarnated (after accidentally releasing it themselves), and lived to tell the tale. They thought that it was over, that they got away with only memories still haunting them. They were wrong. Someone is disturbing Hamunaptra again, Yugi’s dreams turn to visions and when one of them leads him and his friends to a treasure bettter off buried, the battle for the fate of the world is on again. The year of the scorpion has begun. Rating: Teen/Mature Art needed:  + 2 (two) completed art work OR 3-5 (three to five) panel complete art comic

DM8 Pairings: Puzzleshipping  Characters: Akandin, Atem, Yugi Motu, Siegfried, oc Content Warnings: Murder by plant, abuse, smut, blood, man eating plant Summary: Little shop...Little shop of terror, Little shop of horror! Oh, oh, oh, no. Rating: Mature Art needed:  + 1 (one) completed art work OR 3 (three) panel greyscale sketched comic 

DM9 Pairings: Puzzleshipping, past Peachshipping, hints of Puppyshipping Characters: Yugi Mutou, Atem, Mahad, Mana, Seto Kaiba, Jounouchi Katsuya, Yami Bakura, Malik Ishtar, Pegasus J Crawford, Ishizu Ishtar Content Warnings: Character Death, science fiction, Fifth Element adaptation, violent scenes, futuristic technology Summary: The Pharaoh was created to be the supreme being; the one destine to save and protect the universe. Yugi Mutou was a retired military major turned cab driver mixed up in this destiny. He was tasked with a mission to help the Pharaoh and save the Earth from the impending doom brought on by a dark entity. Rating: Mature Art needed:  + 1 (one) completed art work OR 3 (three) panel greyscale sketched comic + 1 (one) coloured sketch OR 1 (one) greyscale line art OR 1 (one) graphic banner OR 3-5 (three to five) panel inked comic OR 5 (five) panel coloured sketch comic

DM10 Pairings: N/A Characters: Bakura, Ryou, Malik, Ishizu, Rishid, Atem, Pegasus, Mai Content Warnings: suicide mention/implied suicide; some gore/body horror (not described in detail) Summary: Bakura and Ryou-centric role reversal AU: Bakura’s life takes a turn for the strange when he steals a weird piece of jewelry. Not that spending his days shoplifting purses for Malik’s knock-off handbag crime empire and his evenings making bets on card games was necessarily normal. It’s just that now he also has a weirdly polite ghost to worry about. [No romance; focuses on Bakura’s relationship with Ryou as a vaguely villainous ghost and the Ishtars as found family; cameos by Atem, Pegasus, Mai] Rating: Teen Art needed:  + 1 (one) completed art work OR 3 (three) panel greyscale sketched comic + 10 (ten) 100x100 icons OR 1 (one) moodboard OR 1 (one) greyscale sketch OR 3-5 (three to five) panel coloured sketch comic

DM11 Pairings: Atem/Seto Kaiba Characters: Seto Kaiba, Kisara, Atem, Yugi Muto, Ryou Bakura Content Warnings: pirate/seafaring au. contains lovecraftian horror, mention of battles and injury, a smut scene, and memory loss/angst with a happy ending. Summary: Kaiba wakes in the middle of the ocean, with few resources and even fewer memories. Rescued by a familiar voice from the dark he sails towards safety through treacherous waters, but as Kaiba's memories begin to return he wonders what that familiar voice is hiding. A more complete spoilery summary: Kaiba and Kisara are on the trail of an eldritch being that destroyed their village when they were younger. Kaiba meets Atem, who is also chasing the creature, hoping to rescue his brother Yugi. They fight the creature, but Kaiba is killed. Atem decides he's to blame, and with the help of Ryou the sea witch goes on a journey through the underworld with Kaiba to bring him back to the land of the living. The only price Ryou asks for is a golden charm that Kaiba wears on his neck. Much of the fic is Kaiba and Atem journeying through the seas of the dead. The fic ends with Kaiba back safe and sound, and a small epilogue that tells more about Ryou's ulterior motives. Rating: Explicit Art needed:  + 1 (one) completed art work OR 3 (three) panel greyscale sketched comic 

Yu-Gi-Oh! Bonds Beyond Time

BBT1 Pairings: N/A Characters: Judai, Yubel, Johan, Yusei, Yugi, Yami Yugi, Shou, Ryou, Edo, Paradox, Sara, Kaiba, Daitokuji, most of the GX main cast gets at least mentioned, the Light of Destruction, Crimson Dragon, the rest of the Signers appear only in the epilogue Content Warnings: Character Death, it's not a chat fic but it has a couple of chat logs for flavor, it's also got some funky shadow magic and duels that Don't Follow The Rules Summary: When Blue-Eyes vanishes without a trace, Judai shoulders the responsibility to go looking for answers. He doesn't expect a whole string of spirit-nappings followed by a chance to slip through time, but hey, life's all about the little surprises. [ BBT AU ] Rating: Teen Art needed: + 1 (one) completed art work OR 3 (three) panel greyscale sketched comic + 1 (one) coloured sketch OR 1 (one) greyscale line art OR 1 (one) graphic banner OR 3-5 (three to five) panel inked comic OR 5 (five) panel coloured sketch comic 

Yu-Gi-Oh! GX

GX1 Pairings: N/A Characters: Yuuki Juudai, varied OCs (mostly Duel Monsters/Spirits) Content Warnings: off-screen/not graphically described murders, some violence, set in my reversal world where Juudai's the incarnation of Destructive Darkness Summary: He wasn't always a warlord.  He wasn't always feared wherever his shadow fell. Once he was a child.  Once he was a teenager.  Everyone has a beginning, even the Haou of the Destructive Darkness. Rating: Teen Art needed:  + 1 (one) completed art work OR 3 (three) panel greyscale sketched comic + 1 (one) coloured sketch OR 1 (one) greyscale line art OR 1 (one) graphic banner OR 3-5 (three to five) panel inked comic OR 5 (five) panel coloured sketch comic GX2 Pairings: N/A Characters: Alice, Tyranno Hassleberry, Jaden Yuki, Syrus Truesdale, Bastion Misawa, Atticus Rhodes, Alexis Rhodes, Chazz Princeton, Aster Phoenix, Pharaoh the Cat, Lyman Banner, Dr Vellian Crowler, Ms Fontaine Content Warnings: Kidnapping, torture, blood, injury, bits of angst, hurt/comfort, literal demons, attempted sacrifice, temporary death, slight swearing, slight suggestive themes Summary: Upon their return from Domino, Jaden and friends are met by a mysterious new student named Alice, who Hassleberry falls head over heels for. But it's not all smiles and sunshine when not longer after Hassleberry is found missing without a trace! Running around in a desperate search Jaden, Syrus, Bastion, and Atticus are the only ones left who can save him. But little do they know Alice has more than a few secrets to hide, and only one thing as her motivation to harm the young dino duelist; the pure light of his untainted soul. Rating: Teen Art needed:  + 1 (one) completed art work OR 3 (three) panel greyscale sketched comic + 1 (one) coloured sketch OR 1 (one) greyscale line art OR 1 (one) graphic banner OR 3-5 (three to five) panel inked comic OR 5 (five) panel coloured sketch comic GX3 Pairings: Yubel/Judai Characters: Yubel, Judai Yuki, Jim Cook, Fubuki Tenjoin, Asuka Tenjoin, Light of Ruin Content Warnings: Major Character Death, Minor Character Death, Temporary Character Death, Suicide, Timeskips, Timetravel, Anal Sex Summary: Every seer needed a guardian. To stand watch over him as Judai shaped the future to the best it could possibly be. Now if only the Light of Ruin could mind its on business and stop ruining everything for everyone else. (FFXIII AU) Rating: Explicit Art needed:  + 1 (one) completed art work OR 3 (three) panel greyscale sketched comic + 10 (ten) 100x100 icons OR 1 (one) moodboard OR 1 (one) greyscale sketch OR 3-5 (three to five) panel coloured sketch comic GX4 Pairings: Ryo Marufuji/Judai Yuki, Ryo Marufuji/Supreme King Characters: Ryo Marufuji, Judai Yuki, Supreme King, Yubel, Edo Phoenix, Saio, Jun Manjoume Content Warnings: Blood, Sex, Violence, A/B/O Dynamics, Miscarriage Summary: During his last year at the Duel Academy Ryo, the most desired alpha of the island, fell in love with Judai, a very strange and unique omega. When they meet again during Judai's second year, both of them have changed. Ryo became the Hellkaiser and Judai... became the Supreme King, an alpha. Rating: Mature Art needed:  + 1 (one) completed art work OR 3 (three) panel greyscale sketched comic GX5 Pairings: Haou/Jaden. Jaden/Haou. Characters: Haou (the supreme king). Jaden Yuki. Mentions of Yubel. Content Warnings: Medieval AU, Angst, Slow burn, Porn, Blood, Mentions of death, Mentions of magic, No duels, Fluff, Action/Adventure, Violence,  Drama Summary: In old times where magic is long gone and mentions of it are forbidden and unspoken of, a trace of it still lingers, last of it's existence beig in the ancient, cursed king. Jaden, a miserable, but energetic villager, tired of unmerciful circumstances of life, finds himself venturing through not only the emperor's castle walls, but also his internal barriers, slowly breaking them. Rating: Explicit Art needed: + 2 (two) completed art work OR 3-5 (three to five) panel complete art comic     

Yu-Gi-Oh! ZEXAL

ZEXAL1 Pairings: Vector/Zexal II, Zexal II/ Hope Zexal Characters: Zexal II, Hope Zexal, Vector, Michio Mokota, Zexal Side characters: Dark Zexal, Astral Content Warnings: Dub-con, Pregnancy, Demon Characters/Demon Transformation, Character Death, There's a decent amount of sex, Zexal II, Hope, and Astral are girls. There's M/F and F/F Summary: An Incubus named Vector makes a bet with Death [Hope Zexal] that he can get Zexal II's soul, but Death seems interested in her too. Rating: Explicit Art needed:  + 2 (two) completed art work OR 3-5 (three to five) panel complete art comic ZEXAL2 Pairings: N/A Characters: Tron, III, IV, V, Dr. Faker, Kaito, Vector, Durbe, Mizael Content Warnings: Body Horror Summary: A man is haunted by the faces of his past as he traverses the wastes of a distant planet. Rating: Gen Art needed:  + 1 (one) completed art work OR 3 (three) panel greyscale sketched comic ZEXAL3 Pairings: IV/V, IV/III, IV/Kaito, IV/Ryoga, IV/Rio Characters: Arclight brothers, Kamishiro siblings and Tenjo Kaito Content Warnings: Incest, rape, mutilation, violence, dehumanization, trauma, creepy dolls and just in general disturbing imagery  Summary: The dolls in Thomas’s room each have their own unique personality. Each one is elegantly crafted, their beautiful faces unchanging. Sometimes, he wishes that his family were more like that. When his fantasies spin out of control, he leaves behind a path of misery, pain and ultimately, regret. His dolls constantly whisper for their release, yet he turns away from their silent voices and continues to delve into his fantasy. Such is the fate of this poor soul. ----- Thomas is heavily shaken after Tron decides to leave forever, without a single apology towards him. Michael tries to comfort him and breaks their mother's favorite doll on accident and Thomas gets even more upset. He gets so upset that he knocks Michael out, saws off his limbs, removes his vocal cords and attaches life-sized doll limbs onto him. He then treats Michael like one of his beloved playthings. Christopher discovers these atrocities and ends up with the same fate as Michael's. This snowballs into a gigantic horror fest as the Kamishiros joins the mess and is topped off with Kaito also being dragged in. Now with his new family, Thomas thinks that he is finally able to have a happy ending. Rating: Explicit Art needed:  + 1 (one) completed art work OR 3 (three) panel greyscale sketched comic + 1 (one) coloured sketch OR 1 (one) greyscale line art OR 1 (one) graphic banner OR 3-5 (three to five) panel inked comic OR 5 (five) panel coloured sketch comic

Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V

ARCV1 Pairings: Akaba Ray/Zarc Characters: Akaba Ray, Zarc, Akaba Reiji, Akaba Reira, Sawatari Shingo, Gongenzaka Noboru Content Warnings: Kidnapping, Manipulation, slight dubcon, fantasy Summary: A spoiled Akaba Ray wishes for Zarc, the Supreme King of all spirits to take away her baby brother, Reiji. To her amazement, he’s real and fulfills her wish and she regrets it. Now Ray only has 24 hours to fight her way through the realm of spirits and resist Zarc’s temptation in order to to save her brother or lose both him and herself to the Supreme King’s clutches. Rating: Teen/Mature Art needed:  + 1 (one) completed art work OR 3 (three) panel greyscale sketched comic + 1 (one) coloured sketch OR 1 (one) greyscale line art OR 1 (one) graphic banner OR 3-5 (three to five) panel inked comic OR 5 (five) panel coloured sketch comic

Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS

VRAINS1 Pairings: Yusaku Fujiki/Ryoken Kogami Characters: Yusaku Fujiki, Ryoken Kogami, Takeru Homura, Shoichi Kusanagi, Ai, others (very short roles). Content Warnings: Blood, stabbing, death, major character death, sex scenes, minor talk about prescription medicine use and withdrawal (short scene), suicide, murder. Summary: Yusaku grows up with vivid nightmares of his life coming to an end.  In his dreams, he always sees the same icy blue eyes right before he dies.  One day, he meets Ryoken, a man with the same piercing blue eyes from his dreams.  As he learns more about Ryoken, Yusaku begins to unravel memories from their past life together where they were once lovers. Rating: Explicit  Art needed:  + 1 (one) completed art work OR 3 (three) panel greyscale sketched comic + 1 (one) coloured sketch OR 1 (one) greyscale line art OR 1 (one) graphic banner OR 3-5 (three to five) panel inked comic OR 5 (five) panel coloured sketch comic VRAINS2 Pairings: N/A Characters: Yusaku, Takeru, Kiku, Jin, Shoichi, Ema, Aoi, Miyu, Go, Spectre, Ryoken Content Warnings: N/A Summary: A high school/college AU loosely based on the common route of the visual novel Little Busters! It follows Yusaku as he gets dragged into a makeshift baseball team made to celebrate everyone’s last year in school together and the shenanigans that ensue trying to get enough members for a full team- including ghost hunting, fireworks shows, and a single game at the end of everything they're definitely not prepared for. (But they're having fun, and that's what matters.) Rating: Gen Art needed:  + 1 (one) completed art work OR 3 (three) panel greyscale sketched comic VRAINS3 Pairings: Yusaku Fujiki/Ryoken Kogami Characters: Yusaku Fujiki, Ryoken Kogami, Takeru Homura, Miyu Sugisaki, Aoi Zaizen Content Warnings: mild angst that turns into fluff eventually, depictions of trauma, season 2 spoilers, canon divergence Summary: After Lightning and Bohman's defeat and the fall of SOL Tech, the Lost Incident is made partially public. Yusaku and Ryoken must learn how to move on from the past now that it's available for everyone to gossip about -- and move on with their lives, since their Link VRAINS aliases are no longer needed. Rating: Teen Art needed:  + 1 (one) completed art work OR 3 (three) panel greyscale sketched comic VRAINS4 Pairings: Fujiki Yuusaku/Kougami Ryouken (Datastorm) Characters: Major: Fujiki Yuusaku, Kougami Ryouken, Spectre, Homura Takeru Minor: All the ignises, Kamishirakawa Kiku, Miyu, Bohman, Haru Content Warnings: Kidnapping Summary:  Exhausted and overworked, Yuusaku and Ryouken take a holiday away from Den City to the quaint town far away from civilisation. The worst they had suspected was simply being disconnected from technology; however, children have been disappearing and reappearing in the town, and electronic devices have been washing up on the innocent shores. With the villagers themselves technophobic, Yuusaku and Ryouken take it upon themselves to get to the bottom of the mystery and hopefully end their vacation on a peaceful note. If only they could solve the case while stranded in the middle of an isolated town with no connection to Den City, and surrounded by adults and children alike who think technology will melt their brains and steal their souls. Rating: Teen Art needed:  + 2 (two) completed art work OR 3-5 (three to five) panel complete art comic

Crossover

XOVER1 Pairings: N/A Characters: Atem, Yugi Mouto, Ryou Bakura, Thief King Bakura, Mana, Mahad, High Priestess Isis, Seth, Yuko Ichihara, Anthy Himemiya, Mai Valentine, Akunadin Content Warnings: Major and minor character death, rape (mentioned and vaguely alluded to), female Yugi, female Ryou, Fantasy AU Summary: The Witch King: The coordination for the future king of Esmia was going quite smoothly… until it didn’t. Now Yugi and Ryou have to learn why the Crown has chosen to be on an unknown boy, a magic-user who only has his mother for his family. But what they learn, and what they do with that knowledge, could change the kingdom forever. Rating: Teen Art needed:  + 1 (one) completed art work OR 3 (three) panel greyscale sketched comic

XOVER2 Pairings: Kindredshipping, Puzzleshipping Characters: Yusei Fudo, Jaden Yuki, Johan Anderson, Yugi Muto, Atem, Mahad, Mana, Jack Atlas, Crow, Aki, Lua and Luka, Carly, Sho, Ryo, Fubuki, O'Brien, Jim, (I think I got everyone) Content Warnings: Mild violence- nothing gory is described but there are battle scenes Summary: A torn kingdom. A rising threat. A missing prince. Three heroes, Yusei Fudo, Judai Yuki, and Johan Anderson, all destined to meet, each with a future set before them by the strings of fate. The world is falling into chaos and only their bonds can stand a chance of saving everything they love. Including each other. Rating: Gen Art needed: + 1 (one) completed art work OR 3 (three) panel greyscale sketched comic + 1 (one) coloured sketch OR 1 (one) greyscale line art OR 1 (one) graphic banner OR 3-5 (three to five) panel inked comic OR 5 (five) panel coloured sketch comic XOVER3 Pairings: Puzzle, Blue, Star, Thief, Moral, Mai x Rafael Characters: Yuugi, Atem, Gandora, Ryou, Anzu, Honda, Jounouchi, Mai, Rafael, Seto, Kisara, Aigami, Shadi, Judai, Yuusei, Akhenamkhanen, Mahado, smaller oc’s Content Warnings: slight mention of animal death (hunting), torture, ptsd, non-explicit gore, non-graphical sexual themes Summary: Soulmates are both the blessing and the curse of the elvish race, and Yuugi the dragon rider knows it all too well, as he's been longing for the day when he'll meet his. But when others receive a golden message on their skin with a vague hint of their mate, Yuugi receives something different, something terrifying. And now, he must save his mate before it's too late. Rating: Mature Art needed: + 2 (two) completed art work OR 3-5 (three to five) panel complete art comic 

[purplebenjy]

1998

For the second time in his life, Benjy Fenwick had just been dumped. And it still sucked.

What had happened with Ollie had been as close to amiable as break ups could be, but what happened with Lisa cut deep.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

She’d said this against his lips when his hands were under her shirt. He’d laughed, thinking she was joking because she didn’t like what he was doing, but when Lisa had pulled away fully, Benjy had stopped laughing. He redid his pants and sat up in his back seat of the Honda Civic his brothers all pooled together to buy him for his sixteenth.

“Uh, okay? Why?”

Lisa had shrugged and fixed her blouse.

“I’ve got a crush on someone else.”

Jealousy had bloomed in his chest by then and Benjy felt his jaw twitch when he spat out the word “who?”

Lisa fished a pack of cigarettes out of the front pocket of her jeans and lit up. Annoyed, Benjy leaned over her and rolled down the window.

“Does it matter?”

Benjy sucks on his bottom lip for a second.

“What’s he got that I don’t?”

It was pathetic and he knew it, but he was blindsided. He thought things were going good. Not great, but good. Lisa was hot with long blonde hair and good tits. Not great, but good. She liked the same bands as he did, always dated skateboarders and tried to look like Courtney Love. She’d taken one of his flannels and hadn’t given it back and sometimes she blew him in his car after they went to the movies. It wasn’t love, but he was having a good time with her. He liked her a whole lot and she gave him attention and clout among his friends. He figured they’d at least go to prom together in a few months. Benjy watched as she shifted a little in her seat, ashed her cigarette out the window.

“He’s just different, Benjy. I don’t know.”

“Different how?” He tried to keep his voice level, but it still cracked. He reached for her hand but she pulled away.

“You’re a little uh....gay.”

He stared at her as she turned her face to look out the window.

“Groovy.” Benjy muttered, before sliding up and over the center console and into the driver’s seat. He punched the radio off, cutting Cheryl Crow off mid song. They sat in silence, the only sound Benjy’s exhaust. He pulled up in front of Lisa’s house and his brakes screeched as he parked.

“Benjy...” He flicked his eyes up to the backseat to look at her.

“It’s nothing personal.”

Before he could even say anything, she slid out of his back seat and was gone. This sentence has been haunting him ever since. It’s been two days and today when he saw her after fifth period, she was sucking face with that asshole named Trent.

Benjy doesn’t quite remember what happened after that, just Trent’s fist in his face and now his lip is swelling up. He cut the rest of the day and now he was here in the skatepark, trying and failing to try the new kind of flip he’d been practicing for weeks.

“It’s nothing personal.”

“Shit-“

He falls hard on his back, his board going up the half pipe and then falling back down to hit him in the ribs. As he slowly gets up, Benjy decides one thing;

It’s time to make it personal.

~

It starts out innocent enough, a couple cans on spray paint that he finds on clearance at the hardware store. Finding Asshole Trent’s car is easy too, he’s got a racing stripe on a fucking Jeep. He’s a surfer instead of a skater if the stupid board on the top of his stupid car is any stupid indication. Benjy doesn’t stalk them per se, just follows them to the beach. And waits in his own car until they run off into the waves. And pulls his sweatshirt tight around his face when he runs out of his car, low to the ground, doing a somersault partially to cover more distance but also cause it’s fun. He stands out wildly at the beach, and when he glances around, he sees a mother start to pull her two children in the opposite direction, glaring at him. Benjy snorts out his first laugh in two days and shakes the spray paint can, spraying the day-glo orange over the white Jeep with its stupid green racing stripe;

“Nothing personal.”

~

Trent’s stupid car, now complete with Benjy’s new tag, was the talk of the school. Most people were able to figure out it was him, but no one beyond Lisa and her new surfer girl aesthetic seemed to care. Benjy had a new hobby. The nothing personal tag started showing up all over his high school campus and around town, usually in whatever color was on clearance that week.

Suki was taking on extra kids during the day as a pseudo daycare so she didn’t have the time to notice that Benjy was late nearly every day thanks to either detention or running around, tagging the town. She didn’t notice, not at all, until he got a ride home in the back of a police cruiser.

All he was trying to do was to tag “nothing personal” on a wall on the side of an alley, when he’d gotten spotted. He’d stopped wearing the hoodie, mostly cause it was warming up but also cause it kept fucking with his hair-naturally that would be his downfall. Benjy’d been so good at out running the cops, so good at climbing trees and dirt mounds and sides of buildings to get away, but the bane of his existence, of course, was a chain link fence. The cop had basically picked him off the links like an apple and had detained him easily, pushing Benjy up against the fence after he’d pulled him down in a way he didn’t totally hate after he’d noticed how built the cop’s arms were. Pissed at himself for getting caught and at this strangely hot cop for catching him, Benjy refused to tell him anything, which resulted in a very confusing search for his wallet after he’d been handcuffed. The cop marched Benjy back to his squad car and all but thrown him inside. He hears the cop call in his name to the radio, reading it off of his driver’s license. He hears something he can’t quite make out and from his spot in the backseat through the bars, he sees hot cop balk.

“Are you sure?”

“Affirmative.”

The car’s engine flips over.

“Where do you live, kid?”

“Get fucked.”

Hot Cop mumbles something and his car squawks once as he starts to back up. And now Benjy still sat there, in the backseat with the bracelets digging into his wrists as the cop talks to his mom. Benjy hears the sound of another car pull up behind them and he twists around just in time to see the person get out of the car. And when Benjy sees who it is, fear shoots through him for the first time that afternoon.

It’s Alastor Moody, his dad’s old partner. He’s not in uniform like the hot cop, instead he’s in a pretty nice suit. When Al looks into the window, Benjy shrinks back into the seat. He watches him as he speaks to the other officer, who then nods and gets into the car Moody showed up in. He twists back around and something tugs at his chest when he watches his mom wipe at her face, obviously upset. He didn’t get why this had to be a big deal, it was just a stupid wall. He wasn’t hurting anyone, if anything he was making a boring thing look better. He sits up straighter now, his argument formed, but it dies in his throat when Al opens the driver side door and wordlessly starts the car. Benjy waits for him to say something, anything. For him to start yelling at him, tell him he’s a disappointment, a delinquent, anything. But nothing. Just silence. Especially when Moody punches off the radio.

“Are you going to read me my rights or what, old man?”

He’s trying to goad him, and it works. Kind of. Moody quietly rolls into a stop and glances up at him in the review mirror.

“You’re not under arrest.”

Somehow this makes Benjy more uneasy. He tugs at the handcuffs, making them clink.

“Then can you take these off?”

“Nope.”

Benjy grunts and props himself up against the door, chin on the windowsill, as much as he can be to be out of view of Al.

They drive for what feels like half an hour, but is probably ten more minutes, getting further out of the middle of town.

“Al?”

“So it’s Al now, not old man?”

“....are you going to kill me?”

Alastor chuckles darkly.

“Probably not.”

“Do you have your gun on you?”

“Do you need me to answer that?”

“Shit.”

He hears Moody chuckle again, and before Benjy knows it, they’re on the Golden Gate Bridge, driving out of the city completely.

“Are you taking me to military school?”

“Shut up, Benjy.”

He does, the events of the past few weeks playing in his head. Lisa. The tag. “You’re a little uh...gay.” Nothing personal. His mom crying. His spray paint covered hands forced behind his back right this moment.

“Al?”

“You’re really bad at following directions.”

“Do I seem too gay to you?”

The eyes that flick back towards him at the next stop light are confused now.

“Are you gay?”

“No.”

“But you....”

“You can be with guys and not be gay.”

“Okay okay, bite my head off. I’m trying to learn. So what’s seeming ‘too gay?’”

Benjy shrugs as best as he can.

“I dunno. Like I’m not masculine enough or something. Fucked up and wrong. Weird or girly or something-“

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” Al says forcibly, before hitting his turn signal and exiting the freeway they were now on. “Well I mean, you’re a degenerate-“

“And artist-“

“-but other than that. Nothing. Got it?”

“Yeah.” Benjy sits up properly now, not totally believing him. They’re quiet again, but it’s not the scary quiet from before, it’s different. Loaded. Benjy waits a few more minutes before he breaks it.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Yes.”

“....did I uh, say sorry about that yet?”

Moody pulls over, getting out of the car and sliding into the backseat beside Benjy. He undoes the handcuffs and clips them to his belt.

“I’m not the one you need to be sorry to, Benj.”

“Well is someone else gonna come and kidnap me so I can apologize to them-I’ll shut up now.” He cuts himself off based on Moody’s look. “Who do I need to be sorry to? My mom?”

Moody sighs and gets out of the car, walking around the front to open the other door.

“Get out. Do you know where we are?”

“Uh...” He looks around, seeing older kids with backpacks, some on bikes and skateboards. Someone’s playing guitar on a bench. “Somewhere with hippies?”

Moody chuckles, ushering Benjy to the sidewalk.

“You’re not wrong. This is UC Berkeley, Benj. Your art teacher thinks you’re good enough to get in here if you keep going in the way you’ve been. And I mean, I don’t know nothing about nothing but from what I’ve seen, I don’t think you’re too shabby either . But you know who they don’t let in?”

It clicks as Moody stares him down.

“.....I’m guessing people with arrest records?”

Moody claps him on the shoulder.

“Bingo. I’m not ever gonna bail you out like this again, kid. I did this for your mom and your dad, yeah, but uh...I mostly did it for you. This looks a lot better to me than prison but...”

Moody shrugs.

“If you wanna throw away something great, that’s your choice. But if you do, the only person you’ll need to say sorry to is yourself.”

Moody lets go of his shoulder and gets in the car. Benjy stares at campus, the ideas Moody planted wiggling around in his brain. He could get in here? People thought he was good enough? He looks a little closer at the people sitting on the grass. They’re dressed a little strange, loose clothes and long hair and just...different. Like him.

He turns to the police cruiser window, hitting it with his knuckles until Moody cracks it.

“Are you sure there’s nothing wrong with me?”

“Other than too much energy and a bad haircut? No.”

“Rude.” Benjy fails to hide his smile in a scowl. His smile grows as he looks at campus. It looks a lot more fun than prison; or even just regular old high school. A strange thrill shoots through him when he notices one of the students on the grass is laying on the lap of another boy. They’re talking about something and the boy laying down laughs before reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind his boyfriend’s ear. Someone whizzes past him on roller skates and breaks the moment. Benjy turns back to the car window.

“Can I get a ride home?”

Moody takes a sip from his travel mug.

“Only if it’s in the back seat.”

Benjy groans.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Oh, and your mom told me to tell you you’re super grounded.”

“I figured.” Benj says with a shrug of his own as he casually opens the back door of the cop car and throws the few people across the street giving him strange looks a grin and a wave as he hops in.

“You keep the meter running?”

“I can still arrest you.”

Benjy laughs, suddenly a lot lighter. He sits on the side closest to campus so he can look at for as long as possible as Moody drives away.

“Al?”

“Yeah?”

Benjy leans forward as close to him as he can, face pressed up against the bars.

“Thanks.”

Al just nods, turning on FM radio.

“Don’t fuck it up.”

Benjy settles back in his seat, fingers twitching as he already wants to get home and sketch, suddenly much more motivated. He’s hoping he’s not grounded from that. He wants to get home and apologize, maybe even grovel and try to make it up to his mom. Unfortunately, right before they get to the bridge, they hit rush hour traffic. Benjy shifts in his seat, pressing his face against the bars again.

“Can you turn on the siren?”

“Nope.”

“Pussy.”

It might be a trick of the light, but he swears he sees Moody smile.

[unholyhelbig]

Bechloe Prompt - Chloe always come home stressed and tired, but the only highlight of her day/night is listening to her neighbor playing piano. One day/night while listening to her neighbor playing piano, it abruptly comes to a halt and Chloe gets worried (the last song played and Chloe heard being "Lighthouse - Hush Sound"). One week later with no music, Chloe decides to check up on her neighbor.

[A/N: A/N: This took forever and I’m really sorry. But hey, I’m not used to writing piano stuff… except for I kind of am. I’m actually going to link a fic that I’m super proud of. It’s not done yet, but it also centers a piano.]

—> THE BROKEN PIANO 

—> SUBMIT PROMPTS HERE 

She always thought the piano was too grand a structure. Its looming frame would take up half of any room that it was placed in. It stole the center stage, drawing all attention to the embossed instrument. Someone who sat at the red studded seat with great posture and strong commitment wasn’t someone Chloe wanted to be.

That didn’t’ mean she despised her neighbor; in fact, she admired the musical prestige that would often float through open windows like the notes that hung heavily in the air. The breeze seemed to shift them like eyes steadily flicking across sheet music.

Chloe would often settle herself against the window seat on the second floor of her old Victorian. She had long ago done away with the screen, letting her leg hang into the open air as her focus shifted to her own work of grading papers.

Her mysterious neighbor always seemed to be fiddling with something- tuning up her instrument or running through the same few bars over and over again. Chloe didn’t seem to mind; her eyes would clench shut and her fingers would tap absently to the beat that edged through the mostly empty suburban street.

In the summer the notes were lighter; they matched the warm air and the scent of honeysuckle that always took up more than half of Georgia. When the weather shifted to a cold heaviness, so did her neighbor’s music. The pianist would lean heavily on the further ends of the instrument, notes deep and dark.

She balanced the mug within her grasp, eyes watering as she gulped down a healthy amount of red wine- it was soft and sour all at once. Chloe had curled herself along the edge of the window once more but without any papers. There was no resolve left in her patience to pick out the grammatical mistakes that one too many made. Instead, she waited for the music.

Her neighbor worked like a clock, though, Chloe had never seen much of the stranger. The darker side of the young teacher wanted to admit that she sprung up quickly from her mattress each time a golden yellow mix of headlights shown through her bedroom window.

It was part of the allure, though, not knowing exactly who played such heavenly music.  

She felt the cold bite of midnight air, letting her head rest against the wood paneling of the window seat. She didn’t mind the cold so much, the light dose of alcohol warmed her skin. Yet, it seemed almost habit to run her free hand up her arm, tracing the pattern of old tattoos often covered up nowadays.

The notes started in a slow and haunting tune, a mix between sharps and flats. The pianist let the music flow, Chloe watching carefully as the sheer curtains lay evenly over a solid window. Warm light bathed the grass in front of the opening. The stranger laid heavily on the keys- Chloe could almost feel the passion put into each note, her fingers tightening against the mug.

There was an earth-shattering crunch. Not one of broken glass, or metal wrapped around a tree at an intersection a few blocks away from her house- no, it was sour notes. Keys all pressed at once as the mysterious stranger weighted everything on the musical instrument.

Chloe drew in a breath so sharp that it burned her throat. She had almost dropped the novelty glass she picked up on her way to Wyoming. It was a little gas station in Limon Colorado, a place that was a mix between a convenient store and a tourist trap. It had worked well enough- being the only thing the redhead had seen worthwhile between civilization and Kansas.

She blinked a few times, staring at the inky shadow that stood in front of the window. She couldn’t quite see an outline, as more of a dark shape. The curtains hugged the frame, two solid arms reaching up as they grasped at the sill, pulling it down with a shaking slam.

Chloe pushed herself harder into the wall, almost as if she was afraid of getting caught. She had never heard the pianist end so abruptly, had never grit her teeth to the point of pain at the sounds that wafted from across the street.

They’re having a bad night she figured glumly, not letting her disappointment of the silence get to her. She had to get to bed anyway, it was too late, even for her.

Her fingers tightened around the steering wheels, knuckles a sickly white against the grey interior. She was trying to talk herself out of this, it was lack of sleep, it was her pure need to be the star of a lifetime movie involving something other than clean-cut weddings- Hell, Chloe didn’t’ know why.

She didn’t know why she was drumming her thumbs against the dashboard as she wiggled around in her seat. Her sapphire eyes snapped up to the rearview mirror every once and a while. She was parked in her driveway, not pulling all the way into her cold garage.

This was ridiculous.

So, what if her neighbor hadn’t played music in upwards of a week? So, what if her mail was collecting on a molded welcome mat? So, what if her grass almost reached the numbers on her mailbox- weeds wicking through the cracks in the driveway.

Okay, so maybe Chloe was a little bit more than curious. But that didn’t’ explain why she had to keep herself from stepping out of her Honda Civic and dashing across the street to knock on a stranger’s door.

She missed the music desperately, and overall, she missed the warmth that it provided with its simple construction. Whoever was behind that grand piano felt with every inch of themselves, made Chloe feel.

Chloe steeled her nerves as she grasped the handle to her car, pulling herself into the cold air. She left a stainless water bottle filled with coffee on her roof- if I’m murdered, they’ll know I wasn’t intending to be.

Her thoughts ate at her bitterly as she pulled back her shoulders and tried to walk across the street. The school teacher cringed at how loud and truth-calling her heels were against the pavement. Sure, a suit like this was a power move at the moment, but not the greatest for sneaking.

She palmed the shoes, used to the rough and chilled pavement under her socks.  

Countless papers were stacked in the gutter in front of the large house, the shutters a deep navy against the slate rafters. There was a stained-glass window that was blocked by a large oak, and a car untouched in the driveway. The grass tickled at her legs as she stepped over the offending mail- not sure if she should knock, or if it was considered rude to even touch the stuff.

Her fingers were shaking like she had never spoken to a neighbor before- she had. The old woman to her left had a pension for figuring out about any fling she brought home, and the lovely couple to the right were trying for their second child. But all of them had a mutual understanding not to disturb an artist at work.

Chloe drew in a breath, one that ripped into her throat as she let her knuckles connect with the wooden door. It seemed too hollow, too empty. She took an instinctive step back, tucking her arms around her as she rocked on her mostly bare feet.

This is a stupid idea, they’re not home.

The thought echoed in her mind. Of course, there was a reason that this person wasn’t answering the door- she almost let out a breath of relief. She had done her civic duty and checked on the neighbor that vanished out of nowhere. Good. Now she can go home and eat that salad she made at the beginning of the week.

That’s when the door opened. Its metal hinges creaked and groaned like the ghost of Christmas past. An unfamiliar warmth pushed past the doorframe as Chloe’s stomach dropped. She could catch the faint scent of vanilla and the musty edge of ink.

A woman stood in front of her, a few inches shorter as she leaned against the door. She had a strong frame, shoulders held back in confidence. She held onto the iron doorknob, a black t-shirt stretched over her stature, grey joggers ending in mismatched fuzzy socks. An innocent person who didn’t’ look so scary- her eyes such a deep midnight that they were almost an inky black.

She squinted, scratching at the back of her head as a few strands of brown hair fell from a messy top bun. “Can I help you?” Her voice was raspy. Sexy.

“I just uh,” Chloe said, “I didn’t’ think I would get this far.”

The stranger lifted her pointed brow, the ghost of a smirk pulling at her lips. “Ah, I see, trying to get the neighborhood recluse out of her house?”

“No!” she rushed, a little too quickly. “I just… I heard you playing last week, and you stopped so suddenly, and your mail has been collecting- like, what if you dropped dead or something? I couldn’t’ not check on you.”

She was laughing. The woman was laughing at how flustered Chloe became- she must have looked like she was mad. Her shoes were still clenched in her hand, her blouse was half pulled from the hem of her pants with all the nervous fidgeting she had subjected herself to.

“That was very kind of you,” The beautiful woman spoke, dragging her thumb along the edge of her eye “I didn’t die, promise.”

She whispered the last word. It sent Chills up Chloe’s spine, one that made her once again trace the ink that graced her arm during a simpler time- the stranger guiding her stare to the exact spot Chloe had called attention to. “I like your tattoo.”

“Thanks.” She said.

“Got any more?” She leaned forward slightly, squinting her eyes “Can I see them?”

“Depends on if you’re the type of composer who runs of coffee.”

The woman scoffed, stepping aside as she let the door creak even louder. Chloe almost flushed at her own words. She was never too forwards when it came to stuff like this- but it felt different. Like she knew this woman for years just based on the music flowing through a grand piano.

Maybe she did know her, maybe they both knew.

[molm2]

2023 Hyundai Palisade | Review & Road Test

For the latest Hyundai Palisade pricing and information: This is the Hyundai Palisade and as you can see, it’s gotten some work done. With a revised front fascia, interior, and the introduction of a new rugged trim, it’s received, all together now, a mid-cycle refresh. Here’s some quick details. Introduced in 2020, this is Hyundai’s biggest vehicle. It’s a 7 or 8 seat mid-size SUV that shook up the car market when it arrived, presenting a practical and stylish alternative to its competition. Propelling Hyundai’s big boy is still a 3.8L V6 making 291 hp (291 hp/ 262 lb-ft) linked to an 8-speed automatic transmission. FWD is standard and AWD is available on all trims for an extra $1,900. Fuel economy on par with the segment (FWD 19 city / 27 hwy, graphic: AWD 19 city/ 25 hwy) but a hybrid option would be nice right about now, and if you plan on towing the Palisade has a Max tow capacity of 5000 lbs. In the cargo area there’s (18 cu-ft) behind the 3rd row, fold down the 3rd row seats for (45.8 cu-ft), and for maximum volume, the second and 3rd row folded yields (86.4 cu-ft). And on the subject of seats, 8 passenger seating is only available on the lowest 2 SE and SEL trims. Higher trims feature captains chairs. Applied to the pavement, the Palisade drives well. It has predictable handling and provides a graceful and confident ride. Honestly the Palisade has some easy road manners, which is good because if you’re using this to haul around family, you want the easiest ride you can get. Visibility is good in the but if you do need it, there’s standard blind spot monitoring. Some other standard safety features will include forward collision assist with pedestrian detection, Lane follow and lane keep assist, and navigation based smart cruise control with stop & go and curve control. Power delivery in the Palisade is adequate, put your foot down and it gets you moving. I like that the V6 has a pretty linear power delivery that you won’t really feel on a lot of turbo powered SUVS. Base MSRP is $34,950 not including destination charges for an SE trim which includes the standard features mentioned earlier, AC vents in all 3 rows, paddle shifters, LED headlights, and highway driving assist. Wanna stand out? Check out that new XRT trim starting at $40,250 that’ll give you rugged aesthetics like a dark grille, black lower bumpers in front and black, and skid plate accents, 20” black alloy wheels, Black roof Rails, a lower door garnish, and the XRT badge. And if you’re considering taking the luxury route, the Calligraphy trim starting at $48,900 includes these 20 inch alloy wheels, Chrome exterior accents, digital rear view mirror, ambient lighting, and nappa leather seats with Hyundai’s “driver’s ergo motion seat”, which is basically a seat massager. Competitors include so many SUVS like the Toyota Highlander, Ford Explorer, Honda Pilot, Subaru Ascent, Volkswagen Atlas, Nissan Pathfinder, and can’t forget its platform-mate the Kia Telluride. The Palisade is a satisfying SUV that continues to stand out in a world of midsize SUVS. And now with its new facelift, rugged trim, and upscale interior, you really can’t deny yourself a second look at what Hyundai is offering. 00:00 2023 Hyundai Palisade 0:43 Engine 1:10 Interior 4:04 Driving Impressions 6:17 Pricing 8:08 Competitors

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