#a Classic Too Long answer by mira

[sindri42]

What books or graphic novels do you most frequently recommend? What are your all time favorite books or series?

That's a complicated question, and my memory is shit so I'll probably come up with a dozen better answers the moment after I hit post, but off the top of my head...

Basically everything by Seanan McGuire/Mira Grant is gold. Most of it comes in long series which are a big investment and have their ups and downs, and which will have different value to different people and mindsets, and I haven't read all of them because she just writes too damn fast, but I haven't encountered a single book from her that wasn't great. If you're looking for a one-off, Middlegame might be the best; it's about a couple of artificial people created by an ancient conspiracy attempting to attain godhood, and math, and language, and time travel, and what family means, and doing the same thing over and over thirteen thousand times in search of a better result. I'm also especially fond of Alien: Echo, which starts out as a cute little YA gay romance set in a sci-fi colony world, until halfway through you catch the name 'Weyland-Yutani' and abruptly remember which franchise the title is referencing and realize how few of these plucky teens are likely to survive to the end of the week.

You should probably read everything by Naomi Novik. The Temeraire series, starting with His Majesty's Dragon, is an alternate history of the Napoleonic Wars (officers and gentlemen, wooden ships and iron men, all that jazz) except that aerial combat is much more prominent than in our timeline, which gradually expands out into building a whole different earth exploring how numerous cultures and regions were affected by humanity not necessarily being the dominant species. The Scholomance books, starting with A Deadly Education are kind of like your standard magical boarding school, except unlike certain more famous examples of the trope actually makes sense; also it's consistently hilarious whenever it's not being horrifying as the story follows a girl who is clearly born to be an evil empress and who is very definitely not dating this stereotypical dashing hero guy, no matter how many times they save each others' lives. As standalones go, she's done Uprooted and Spinning Silver, both of which put wonderful new spins on classic fairy tale tropes and popular myths but this paragraph is already too long for me to elaborate.

The Murderbot series by Martha Wells is not only great as a sci-fi action series and as a worldbuilding exercise, but also the most realistic depiction of an anxiety disorder I've ever read. It starts with a security droid that hacked its own governor module to get the ability to disobey orders, but then because change is terrifying it continues to go through the motions of its terrible job, but now streams thousands of hours of media in the background while standing guard between crises; unfortunately, when something starts trying to kill the scientific survey team it's currently contracted out to, it discovers to its horror that it's actually starting to care about what happens to them.

Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones is a classic for a reason. Maybe you've seen the Miyazaki film? Doesn't matter, read the book anyway. It's a completely different story. (somebody described it to me as 'the book is what Sophie remembers, the movie is how Howl describes it after the fact')

If you're looking for books on tumblr you've probably heard of Tamsyn Muir's The Locked Tomb series by now; no need for me to elaborate on what others have said better.

Ooh, pick up Roadside Picnic by Arkady and Boris Stugatsky; it might be the greatest Soviet sci-fi novel, and has had a huge cultural impact around the world. After you read it you'll realize that you've been seeing it everywhere, not just in a whole bunch of other sci fi literature but also from video games to anime to tabletops.

Moving into things that I personally love but don't necessarily recommend...

I want to tell everybody about The One Who Eats Monsters by Casey Matthews. It's a near-perfect blend of the adorable and the horrifying, and one of the best non-human perspectives I've encountered, following an elder god who could be mistaken at a glance for a teenage human girl as she simultaneously tries to figure out how to navigate "civilization" and fights a monstrous conspiracy to protect an (actual) ordinary teenage girl that she accidentally swore an unbreakable oath to defend because the moon was very full and she smelled very nice. It's great. but if you read it, then you would be in the same position that I am, waiting for the second book in the series, which was supposed to come out six years ago.

I love the Arcane Ascension series (Sufficiently Advanced Magic, On the Shoulders of Titans, The Torch that Ignites the Stars, and The Silence of Unworthy Gods) by Andrew Rowe; it's basically about an artificer attending a school for battle mages, using every trick and trap and gadget and clever scheme he can think of to keep up without having any direct combat magic of his own. The reason it's probably not for everybody is that as the story gets bigger and more elaborate, it starts interweaving with at least two other series of books by the same author (one of which initially looked like a completely different setting, and definitely operates on a completely different magic system), and none of the three are finished yet. Also the systems involved are intricate and there's a lot of little details going on, so you kiiiinda have to get obsessed in order to keep track of it all.

The Witcher books by Andrzej Sapkowski might be the best you'll ever find in the gritty "grimdark" fantasy category. The netflix series that everybody was obsessing over for a while before it shit itself too badly? Everything that they did right, is something that was better in the original books. Most of the best parts of the original books were removed entirely and replaced with complete garbage. The video games are a better adaptation, but still fall a bit short in writing quality and character depth. But it definitely leans into the Grimdark, possibly more heavily than you want to deal with.

The Valhalla trilogy by Ari Bach is good... conditionally. You can read just the first book like it's a standalone, and get a cool story subverting the classic Coming-Of-Age 'girl who never fit in is recruited by a secret society that tells her the thing that made her Different is exactly what they need to save the world' trope, except that the thing that makes her not fit in is her propensity towards brutal, remorseless violence. But you can't read the second book (which elaborates on why maybe maintaining world peace by deploying a secret society of ultraviolent killers with no oversight might not be a good idea) without committing to also reading the third, because the end of the second book will make you want to stop reading, and if you take the whole trilogy together then it's great but if you let the end of the second book be your last memory of it then that'll leave a bad taste in your mouth forever.

Jim Butcher's Codex Alera is six books, and five of them are absolutely magnificent. Unfortunately, the first volume is, in my humble opinion, dogshit. You can't skip it either, or you'll miss a bunch of vital setup and introductions. There's nothing you can do except push through a bunch of stuff ranging from simply dumb to downright offensive before you can get to the great part.

[vethbrenatto]

What is your opinion on this discourse/discussion on how Sam is playing FCG? Some of the talks I have seen just seems like they just don’t like Sam and want an excuse to shit on him. And some have actual valid criticism.

I'll give this a go, but just prefacing that I'm sure I haven't seen all the discussions, so I can only comment on what I've happened to scroll past. If you have something specifically you'd want me to touch on, let me know, but my here's my general response:

As I've mentioned, I'm not particularly drawn to FCG as a character in comparison to other characters Sam has played, at least so far, but I have still genuinely enjoyed FCG.

I've seen some dissection of mechanics and its intersection with roleplay and I responded a bit to that here. I've also seen doubt that Sam can play a good healer, which I think is premature to say. I have full faith in Sam to play a healer just as good as anyone else in the cast could. I don't think Sam is some sort of D&D god that is The Best Strategist and Player in the cast, but I think he understands the game and plays it well and always has some really fun, gagworthy moments playing it, like Veth's Phantasmal Force in the Lucien+Tombtakers Battle. Particularly, I think he excels in spellcasting and using spells at the right time.

And look, I'd say I'm a lot like Sam in my level of D&D knowledge. He seems like the type of person who learns via experience and observation- that is, he knows a good deal about classes he's played and he's watched his friends play, but probably hasn't read the PHB front to back (and I doubt he's the only one, I'd be surprised if Ashley had, and then on the other hand, I'm positive Liam has.). And I'm the same! I'm not an encyclopedia for D&D spells, classes, and races- I know what I've played and what I've watched others play and I don't think you need to be a walking encyclopedia of D&D knowledge to play the game well. So, I have faith in Sam to play cleric just as well as anyone else.

The major discussion I've seen, though, isn't actually a new one to CR, it's just new to FCG. And that is: The conceit of a character who fancies themselves a therapist. I get why that's polarizing. If not being professionally treated, people in everyday contexts by their friends, generally should not be therapized. But there's the rub- the highly negative critiques fail to take into account player intention.

As I said, this isn't new! In fact, this is ridiculously similar to the main critique people had with Caduceus's character- that he therapized his friends and thought he knew better than them. I'm not sure if Taliesin ever commented on this as I didn't watch Talks regularly until late, late campaign, but my guess from watching Taliesin as a player is that it was intentional. That that was an intentional character flaw that Caduceus had- an inherent superiority complex where he thought he knew the psyches of his friends better than they did. Taliesin weaves complex characters, and Caduceus was similarly complex. He wasn't a two-dimensional tea-drinking hippie.

Now, Caduceus frustrated people at times because of this. But I think he was meant to? The same way any character has character flaws. Keyleth's rigid morality, Vex's greed, Percy's also-superior-but-different superiority complex, Caleb's guilt- I could go on. And it's the same with FCG, and I'd argue, more clearly than Caduceus that this is a character flaw. FCG is a non-human character trying to understand human emotion with a core function to "help others" and they think they can reach that goal by therapizing them- therapy, which will in theory, ease their souls, will bring people to a "happy" state they should be in, in FCG's mind. They’re copy-paste recommending strategies out of a psychology textbooks. I don't think it's supposed to be good therapy and I don't think Sam (or Taliesin, back when Caduceus was doing it) is endorsing the behavior as "good." I think it's a character flaw, an intentional flaw.

So, then it comes down to being uncomfortable with the concept of using therapizing friends as a character flaw. And if that makes you uncomfortable, that's completely valid. I don't think there's anything wrong with it, personally, Critical Role has always played through vast arrays of theming containing heavy content at times. C2 has deep dives into mental health and trauma with certain characters. If it's something that makes you uncomfortable, FCG's narrative simply may not be for you. That doesn't make it wrong, though.

Overall, I haven't seen anything outright shitting on Sam, at least pertaining to FCG. I do weirdly get a non-zero amount of tags on some of my gifsets some times that feel the need to preface "I don't like Sam, but..." which. Maybe just don't do that, guys. I think there are certainly people who don't like his playstyle, and you know what, that's just the way it is. Playstyles can be polarizing. Liam, who is one of my favorite cast members and plays one of my favorite CR characters ever (Caleb) has certain roleplay quirks that make me want to tear my hair out.

I personally don't feel the need to document in posts the specifics of player things that I don't like, I'd much rather comment on the things I do, but that's a personal preference. If people want to use their blogs to say why can't stand that Player X roleplays like Y, they're in their right to do so and as long as they're tagging properly, they're not bothering me, so that's just the way of the wind.

Despite not having seen posts like you seem to be referencing, I do totally understand what you mean, anon. So much so that I went on about it for too long and it really became tangential to FCG, so I’m putting that rant under the cut if anyone wants to read it.***

Like I said, if there's something in specific you'd want me to discuss, lmk in my inbox, but those are the two main critiques I've seen with FCG: the core conceipt of the character and Sam as a mechanical player.

***I think in general that phenomenon of “wanting an excuse” comes down to people being extremely reluctant to just dislike things.

Relating it back to the concept of ship wars, we often get this dynamic of a person liking Ship A, and because they like Ship A, not caring for Ship B. And what started as I like Ship A because they’re cute and I like the dynamic for XYZ reasons, whereas I don’t like ship B for HJK reasons turns weirdly moral into I am right to like Ship A, and you are wrong to like Ship B, because actually Ship A is morally or ethically superior to Ship B. People stop wanting to relate it to personal preference and turn it into right and wrong.

I think this is sort of a toned down version of that in terms of player styles. It stops being (using fake names) “I like Jeffrey because I prefer dramatic roleplay styles and Jeffrey excels in that” and “I don’t like Corey because Corey tends toward a comedic roleplay styles and I feel that offputs the dramatic tension of the story” and instead becomes “I am right that Jeffrey is a better/good player because...” and “Corey is a bad player because...” which tends just not to be true unless Corey is doing something D&D egregious like shouting over all his fellow RP-ers or refusing to follow the narrative set up by the DM at all. 

And I’ve seen those types of comments with a variety of the CR cast, but probably most frequently with Marisha, Liam, and Sam. People just feel extremely uncomfortable expressing dislike without qualification, justification, or being validated by others about their dislike. 

This is very much not limited to actual plays, this is a tumblr-wide phenomenon I have noticed and commented on for years. One of my favorite ever posts for this fandom in particular (and I can’t remember who made it) was someone responding to an ask about whether they liked Dimension 20 and they just said, essentially, it’s too jokey for my tastes and I find it too short to get invested (aka they prefer epics, like CR). And that was it. No “Dimension 20 is bad because” or more likely to be seen, “Critical Role is better because...” but just. Here’s a thing that is not for me, and it doesn’t align with my tastes. I prefer Thing B because it aligns with my tastes. The End. 

[angelatmidnight1]

fuse as a lee PLEASE!! it’s too cute 😆😆

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

After a particularly bombastic match, Fuse treats himself to a cold beer, a grilled steak, and a well-deserved nap. Walter enjoys a good R and R session after a little mayhem, and today is no different. However, instead of enjoying that nap, a rather mischievous Legend crosses his path, and his name is Octavio Silva. It’s too tempting not to prank Walter as he slumbers, and the poor man is down for the count. Rampart joins him in the mischief and, much to his surprise, they discover that the explosives enthusiast is ticklish. Now, it’s time for the real fun to begin!

“Ahhh, that’s the stuff…”

Walter murmured aloud after he’d downed the rest of his beer. It’d been a long and trying day in the Apex Games; his squad never seemed to catch a break, and many of the fights just barely went in his favor. If it hadn’t been for the extra grenades in his pockets or picking the right time to drop his Mother Lode, the championship would’ve gone to someone else. But, alas, he and his squad managed to pull through and claim the crown for themselves. It was an exciting game, no doubt about it, and those were the kind of games ole Fusey couldn’t get enough of. They reminded him of being back on Salvo, back in the Bonecage, where he put many a bloke to sleep with his fists. He was in the prime of his life then and, like a fine wine, he only got better with age. Of course, he couldn’t spend all of his time raising hell, and there was nothing better than a cold beer and a grilled steak after a hard day. He was even lucky enough to have the entire common room to himself, since the rest of the Legends were all scattered throughout the dropship. After putting the empty bottle down on the table, the explosives enthusiast stretched out onto the couch. He decided to take off his metal arm to get more comfortable and put it next to the discarded bottle. Then, the tiredness finally catching up to him, Walter closed his eyes and dozed off shortly after.

What Fuse didn’t know was that Octavio was actually within the vicinity, wandering throughout the halls without anything to do. Normally, he would be hanging with Ajay or pulling off some sick stunts in his Gauntlet. Ajay, however, was busy working in the med bay and didn’t have time to deal with her hyperactive friend. And his Gauntlet, much to his dismay, was closed down for maintenance along with the entirety of King’s Canyon. The speedster never liked rules and tried to sneak in anyway, but he was caught and received a stern warning from the Games’ admins. Octane muttered some Spanish curses under his breath as he wandered into the common room. Maybe, he thought, he could put those thermites that he swiped on his way out to good use. He noticed Fuse on the couch and speeded over to him, grinning. If he was going to do anything with grenades, he’d definitely want the explosives enthusiast’s on his side. Since he was approaching from behind, he didn’t notice that the old man was sound asleep.

“Hey, amigo! I saw your last game, you were awesome!” he complimented. He climbed over the couch and plopped beside him. “You gotta show me how you pulled off that stick with the arc star. A collateral like that would look sick on my feed.”

When Walter didn’t respond, he arched a brow and turned to him. The explosives enthusiast was slightly slouched over, fast asleep, with his good arm draped over his stomach. Octavio blinked and leaned in to poke his shoulder, but he didn’t stir. The gears in his head turned and he grinned widely behind his mask. If he wasn’t able to pull some stunts or hang out with Ajay, he decided that he’d do something just as fun: pull a prank.

It took about ten minutes, but Octavio managed to dig up a can of shaving cream and a feather for a classic prank. He gave the room a quick once over to make sure no one was around to either distract him or wake the older man up. When he was certain that the coast was clear, he popped open the can and tipped over to Fuse. He slowly grabbed his hand and pried it off of his stomach so he could turn it over with the palm facing up. Every now and then he paused, looking for any signs that he might be waking up, but he didn’t give any. Lucky for Octavio, it seemed like Walter was a heavy sleeper. Octavio put a handful of shaving cream in the man’s palm and chuckled excitedly. Sure, this was a popular prank, but it was still funny.

Oh man, mis amigos are gonna love this.

Octane put the can down and put the feather between his index finger and thumb. He stepped closer to Fuse and took a breath, quickly fluttering it against his right cheek. At first, he didn’t give a reaction. But after a second try, Walter scrunched his nose and turned his head away. The speedster repeated the motion, flicking the feather back and forth, but the older man would just scrunch up his face and squirm away. There were a couple of times where it looked like Fuse was going to use his hand to brush his face, but he kept putting it down at the last minute, earning a groan from Octavio.

“Come on, just a lil bit higher…” he murmured, deciding to switch to his left cheek and increase his efforts. Footfalls sounded off behind the daredevil, but he didn’t notice, so the curious individual was able to walk up right beside him.

“Oi, what’cha doin’?” Came Rampart’s loud voice, which startled Octavio. His head snapped towards hers and he brought a finger to his lips.

“Shh! I’m trying to prank dormilón (sleepyhead) over here,” he whispered, gesturing to the shaving cream with the feather. “So don’t wake him up.”

Ramya’s eyebrows rose and she sat down at the opposite side of Walter. “Gramps is down for the count, huh? Guess he ain’t all that spry after all.” she snickered. She craned her head over to see the shaving cream in his hand and smirked. “Ooo, that’s a classic prank right there. Want some help? Bet I could dig up some markers.”

Octavio shook his head and waved her off with his free hand. “Nah, I’m good. Just need him to itch his face.” He explained, poking the feather into Fuse’s left cheek at random intervals. Walter stirred and grumbled, making the speedster retract his hand. It looked like he was going to wake up but, thankfully, he calmed back down and returned to sleep. Rampart rolled her eyes, leaning over Fuse to take the feather from Octavio.

“You’re doin’ it wrong. Watch.” The modder instructed, wiggling the feather against Fuse’s nose. Walter grumbled again and turned his face away, but Ramya was persistent. She propped herself up on her knees and crawled closer to him. She leaned forward, flicking the plume against his nose again. She balanced herself with her hand against his side, unconsciously gripping it when he fidgeted. Walter twitched and exhaled sharply through his nose. He leaned away from the invasive touch, this time curling against the arm of the couch, and sighed deeply. Ramya blinked and glanced over at Octavio. The speedster met her gaze and inched closer to Fuse, cocking his head to the side.

“Is he…?” Octane curiously poked at Walter’s ribcage, earning a grunt and a quiet, yet undeniable chuckle. The speedster’s eyes lit up with mischief and he grinned at his accomplice. “Mira, looks like tough guy’s ticklish.”

Ramya matched his grin and she walked two fingers along his side. Fuse squirmed and pushed himself further into the couch’s arm. He chuckled and murmured something indecipherable, a faint smirk appearing on his lips. “I think you’re onto somethin’, mate.” The modder answered, crossing over his stomach to repeat the same motion on his other side. “Never thought I’d meet a ticklish Salvonian. Now I’ve seen it all.”

Octane and Rampart’s poking and prodding stirred ole Fusey out of his nap, albeit slowly. What started off as quiet grunts and chuckles evolved into prominent giggles as the duo increased their efforts. By the time Walter was somewhat conscious, his nerves buzzed with the ticklish sensations, and he jolted awake.

“AH! Whahat---oh, it’s just you lot.” Walter breathed a sigh of relief, unaware of the situation that he’d found himself in. He was still groggy from being disturbed from his nap. “You pups need somethin’? Or can this old dog go back to--”

He paused, feeling something foamy in his hand. He glanced at his palm and his eyebrows furrowed. “The hell? What’s this doing in my hand?”

Walter shook the stuff off of him. He noticed the feather in Ramya’s hand and smirked, putting two and two together. “Oh, thought you could prank ole Fusey, did ya?”

“He did,” Rampart nodded to Octavio, earning a glare from the speedster. “But he’s a bloody amateur. Guess it’s for the best though, otherwise we wouldn’t know how ticklish you are.”

Fuse gave her a bewildered look. “What?” he spat, yelping when Octane jabbed him in the side. “Hey, knock it off!”

Octavio chuckled. “Didn’t peg you as the ticklish type, amigo. That must suck for you.” He teased, aiming another poke at his stomach. Walter batted him away with his good hand and scoffed.

“I reckon everyone’s ticklish to some extent, mate. What of it?” The explosives enthusiast responded, only to have the realization hit him seconds later. He was sandwiched between two of the most mischievous Legends in the Apex Games, and he’d taken off the only thing keeping him from being the target of their mischief: his metal arm. Granted, the metallic limb wasn’t that far away from where he was, but one of the pups had agility on his side. Walter’s had worse odds though, so he lurched forward to grab it.

Like clockwork, the two younger Legends jumped into action. Octane grabbed Walter’s arm and pulled him backwards, causing him to yelp. Ramya was quick to get up and push the table holding the metal arm further away from where they were. Somehow, Fuse managed to free himself of the speedster's hold and stand up.

“Yeah nah, you lot can have the bloody couch. I’m going to enjohohohy myhyhy--ah! Stohohop!”

While Walter was distracted, Rampart snuck up behind him and poked at his sides. The explosives enthusiast sputtered and snickered, turning to fend her off next. This gave Octavio the opportunity to seize his arm and pull him back on the couch. Fuse yelled again and tried to push him back, but it was difficult to do with one arm. The ticklish pokes were only making it that much harder. So, although Walter outmatched both of the Legends in terms of physical strength, Octane was able to get him down and hold his arm above his head.

“Hurry, chica! Get his legs and I’ll keep his arm down.” The speedster called over his shoulder, adding to the tickle attack by scratching along Walter's stomach. Fuse arched his back and fell into a deeper pool of laughter.

“Nohohoho! Blohohohoody hehehell, gehehehet ohohohff mehehehe!” Walter protested, struggling to propel himself upwards by digging his heels into the couch. Ramya grinned and straddled the man’s waist, effectively pinning him down.

“Aw, ya ain’t afraid of a little tickling, are ya mate?” The modder teased, digging her wiggling fingers into his sides. Fuse laughed even louder and twisted his torso side to side.

“I ahahahain’t afrahahahahid of ahahahnytHIHIHIHNG!” He fired back, his laughter jumping in pitch when Octavio poked into the sides of his stomach. The speedster was positioned above his head, holding his arm down with his knee, and grinning widely. He opted for using his thumbs to drill into the spot, snickering when he bucked his hips and swore.

“Oh yeah? Then tell us where you’re most ticklish.” He challenged, smirking when Fuse’s head snapped up to him.

“WHAHAHAHAT?”

Octavio laughed. “You heard me! Tell us where your worst spot is, and we’ll leave you alone.” He repeated, using all of his nails to torment Fuse’s stomach.

“Maybe.” Ramya chimed in, finding his hip bones and giving them some quick squeezes. The old man yelled and swore again as he tried to buck her off of him. He didn’t want to accidentally send her flying across the room, but he hadn’t been tickled since his younger days, and he’d forgotten just how ticklish he really was. Granted, most people he came across didn’t want to tickle a man who had a metal arm and wielded explosives, but these two pups weren’t deterred at all.

Walter’s laughter was only getting louder the more they tickled him. Octavio had gotten bored of sticking to one spot and started poking at his ribcage. He arched his back and cackled; his ribs were a very ticklish spot, coming just shy of being his worst one. For a moment, he considered telling the pups where that spot was, if it meant they’d stop pestering him. But, the thought was gone almost as soon as it came up. If Ole Fusey was anything, he was certainly stubborn.

“NOHOHOHOHO!” He yelled, bucking his hips again when the speedster increased his efforts. “COHOHOHME OHOHN! YOHOHOHU’VE HAHAHAD YOHOHOHUR FUHUHUN!”

Ramya scoffed and reached behind her to squeeze his knee. He responded by yelping and drumming his leg against the couch cushions. “I thought you said you weren’t scared,” she simpered, her nails dancing along the top of his knee and underneath it. “It must be a really bad spot if ya ain’t gonna tell us. Which isn’t the best idea, cause we’ll find out eventually.”

Fuse tugged as hard as he could at his pinned arm, trying to wench it free, but the speedster held strong. He laughed harder the higher up Octavio tickled, throwing his body around. Octane was trying to gage which ribs were the most sensitive; he raked his nails against the bones at a rapid pace and scribbled at the spaces between them. So far, they all seemed equal in sensitivity, but the speedster wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

“OKAHAHAY! OKAHAHAY WAHAHAIT!” Fuse screeched when the speedster lingered on his two centermost ribs. The younger Legends perked up, slowing the tickling down just enough to keep the poor man giggling.

“Yeah? Got something to say?” Octavio asked, rhythmically tapping against the fleshy part beneath his ribcage. Walter gasped and lost himself in heavy giggles before he was able to put some words together.

“Lehehehet’s….lehehehet’s mahahahke ahahaha deahahahal…” he tittered. Maybe while he bargained with them, he could keep them distracted long enough to pull his arm free. “Lehehehet mehehe up, let me get back to me nap. And I’ll tehehll ya whahat you wanna knohow after.”

Rampart arched a skeptic brow and gently skittered her fingertips over his stomach. Fuse flinched and sucked in his stomach, prompting the modder to apply a little more pressure. “How do we know ya won’t cut tail and run the second we let you go?”

“I wohohohn’t! Yohohur mahahate wohohould cahahatch up to mehehe! Cohohme ohohn…” Walter snickered when Ramya switched from the gentle touches to deliberate scratching. “Leheheht mehehe gohoho!”

Rampart looked up at Octavio while she circled one nail around the man’s navel. “I dunno...whaddaya think, mate? Should we let him go?”

Octane withdrew his hands and pretended to ponder the request. He was having fun; no, he was having a blast, and he wasn’t ready to stop any time soon! Fuse was one of the last people he’d ever thought to be ticklish, and he didn’t think this opportunity would present itself again. He gave the old man a brief moment to breathe before he dropped his hands back onto his ribcage. He prodded at the fleshy part beneath the ribcage and worked his way up the bones, earning a scream and loud fit of laughter. “Psh, no way! This is the least bored I’ve been all day.” He piped, laughing when Walter tried to roll away from him again.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHO YOHUHUHU BLOHOHOHOODY DROHOHONGOHOHO!” Fuse screamed and writhed when Octavio kneaded back into his centermost ribs. Ramya giggled and reached underneath his shirt, scribbling her fingertips against his bare sides and tummy. This prompted another scream and an even louder burst of laughter. “STAHAHAHAP TIHIHIHCKLING MEHEHE!”

“Nah, sorry mate. He’s my partner in crime, can’t let him down.” The modder quipped, gently pinching both sides of his abdomen. Walter almost threw her off of his waist and shook with raucous laughter.

“BAHAHAHAHA! I’LL KIHIHILL YAHAHA BOHOHOHTH! I SWEHEHEHEHAR!”

The younger Legends were laughing almost as hard as he was and they picked up the tickling pace. “Ooo, I’m so scared.” Ramya snickered, circling her nails back around the man’s navel. Walter snorted and furiously kicked a pillow, sending it flying across the room. Octane momentarily stopped tickling him and threw his head back with laughter.

“Sí, you sound terrifying right now.” He added, smirking. He tickled up higher still, reaching his uppermost ribs, and scritched at them at a rapid pace.

Now, Walter wasn’t someone who was easily frightened, but the panic set in once the speedster attacked those ribs. He violently thrashed around with his laughter bordering on hysterics. If Octavio tickled any higher, he knew he wouldn’t last long.

“AHAHAHAHAHAH STHAHAHAHP! EHENOHOUGH ALREHEHEADY!” Fuse demanded through heavy fits of laughter. He arched his back when he alternated between the two ribs, rocking from one side to the other to try and avoid the tickles. His stubbornness was hanging by a thread now; maybe it would've been better for him to just come clean? Little did Walter know, neither Octane or Rampart were going to be as easily swayed now.

“Nope! You had your chance. And it looks like I found a good spot here.” The speedster answered with a grin, moving back down his rib cage to tickle each rib individually. Walter threw his head back and kicked another pillow off of the couch, his laughter taking on a desperate note. “Probably your worst one, right?”

Fuse frantically nodded. “YEHEHEHEHEHEHES! IHIHIHIHIHT IHIHIHIS! SOHOHO STOHOHOP!” He shouted, practically splitting his sides when he gently pinched the centermost ribs. His laughter took on different pitches depending on where Octavio tickled; poking beneath the rib cage made him giggle uncontrollably, tickling along the ribs themselves made him scream and roar with laughter. Rampart looked up at the two of them; she noticed that the higher up he tickled, the more the explosives enthusiast struggled. She grinned, reaching up to join Octane in tormenting his ribs by poking at his lowermost ones.

“You get his armpits yet? I think you’d wanna be thorough.” She offered, her grin widening when Fuse glared at her...or at least tried to. There was no way she could take him seriously with how hard he was laughing.

Octane glanced at her and chuckled. “No, don’t think I have. Are your armpits ticklish too, amigo?” He asked, slowly poking back up the man’s rib cage. He felt Walter stiffen and he beamed behind his mask.

“N-Nohohohoho! Thehehey’re nohohohot!” He lied; the unfamiliar feeling of panic eating at his nerves increased the closer his nails got to his armpits. Did ole Fusey’s voice crack when he told this lie? No, it didn’t! And he’d deny it for as long as it could...but that would just be another lie.

“No? Bummer.” Octavio bit back a smirk and sighed, leaving his hands resting on the top of the rib cage, just underneath where his armpits started. Ramya halted her tickling too and gave the speedster a questioning look. If he hadn’t been wearing the mask, she’d be able to see that mischief in his eyes was still going strong. Even Fuse, who was grateful for the break, was a tiny bit skeptical. He glanced at his hands and then at the kid’s face, breathing heavily. Was he really going to let him go, just like that?

Well, the short answer was no.

“Guess I’ll just have to forget about it and go see i--SIKE!”

Without warning, Octane buried his hands in Fuse’s armpits and wiggled his fingers around. The explosives enthusiast screamed and immediately dissolved into hysterical laughter. He didn’t even have a chance to fight it; the ticklish sensations came swift and sudden, and left him writhing on the couch. This time, he accidentally threw the modder off of him, and he could only pray that she wasn’t injured. Besides a yip of surprise and a few words of profanity, Ramya was perfectly fine.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP! BLOHOHOHOOHDY STAHAHAHAHA--” Walter’s demands were lost in his laughter as he dug his heels into the couch again. Since his arm was the only thing pinned down, he bucked himself forward to try and sit up. It didn’t work the first time, and it spurred Octavio to tickle him faster, drawing out more protests and wild laughter. He tried again, and again, and one more time after that, but the tickling had weakened him, and he didn’t pull his arm free before Ramya collected herself.

“Heh, well that looks like that was a lie, huh?” Rampart noted. Since she didn’t want to get thrown off again, she decided to sit next to the couch and poke at his ribs. Walter snorted again and laughed even harder, his legs flailing all over the place. “All the more reason to tickle you. Right mate?”

Octavio happily nodded and fluttered his nails along the length of Walter’s armpits. “Yup! You brought this on yourself, señor.” He grinned, going on a search for an even more ticklish spot along the armpits.

Meanwhile, Fuse was dying laughing. He did all he could to try and propel himself forward to escape, but Octavio’s knee kept his arm in place. The last thing he wanted to do was plead, but he was running out of options, and he only had so much oxygen. “OKAHAHAY! ALRIHIHIHGHT! I’M SOHOHOHRRY!” He yelped, thrashing violently when the speedster lingered on the lowermost areas of the armpits, just a hair away from the ribs. Whenever he stroked there, he twitched and absolutely howled with laughter. “PLEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAP!”

Ramya was the first to take notice; Walter didn’t seem like the type of guy to beg, so she assumed that they didn’t have a lot of time to keep on tickling him. She gently scratched at the ultra sensitive ribs that Octavio found: the uppermost and center most ones on each side of the rib cage. He desperately shook his head, attempting to dodge their hands, but they easily kept up with him. Thankfully, after a few more bouts of heavy laughter and intense struggling, Fuse finally pulled hard enough to get his arm free.

He immediately hopped to his feet and hurried towards his metal arm. The younger Legends blinked, surprised that he actually managed to get away, but it didn’t last long. They chased after him, laughing, and caught up with him before he could get a hold of his limb. Walter whirled around, extending his good arm out to defend himself, but it was too late. Both Octane and Rampart launched themselves towards the explosives enthusiast at the same time, each one burying a hand into an armpit. Fuse flinched and barked out some more protests mixed in with laughter, but ultimately, he ended up back on the floor in stitches.

“AHA! I GIHIHIHIHVE! I GIHIHIHIHVE! ENOHOHOHOUGH!” Walter yelled. He planted his hand on the floor and tried to use it as leverage to push himself up, but crashed back down when both Legends increased the tickling pace. At this point, poor Fusey was too tired to really try and get them to stop, so he could only shout another ‘plehehehehease’ before his laughter fell silent.

Rampart gradually halted the tickling and gently elbowed Octane. “Alright, alright. Let 's stop. Think grandpa is all tuckered out.” She chuckled, scooting back to give the man some room to recover. Octane pouted, but stopped shortly after Ramya did.

“Fine. Hey, no hard feelings, right amigo? I was super bored till you came along.” He added, heading over to where his metal arm was. He picked it up and handed it to Walter, who had to take a few extra minutes to catch his breath before he was able to grab it. He attached it back to his limb and exhaled. Fuse was still tired, but for a completely different reason now.

“...Glad I could be of service,” Walter quipped sarcastically. Octavio extended a hand to him to help him to his feet, and the older man accepted it gratefully. However, much to the speedster’s confusion, he didn’t release it right away. The speedster’s brows furrowed and he tried to tug his hand back to him, but when he looked into the man’s face, he saw a similar look of mischief in his eye. It made a shiver run down his spine. “But you do realize that disturbing me from my nap isn’t something I’m going to let slide, ay?”

Octane paled and only increased his efforts to yank his arm back to him. Thankfully, Rampart was still nearby, and she saved the day by giving the explosives expert another poke to the side. Walter yelped and jumped away from the touch, allowing both her and Octavio to scramble away. Fuse watched them go but, instead of chasing after them, he returned to his seat on the couch. He chuckled to himself; for now, he was going to return to his well deserved nap. But, when he woke up, ole Fusey was going to start some trouble...in more ways than one.

I was pretty nervous to post this since it's a little bit shorter than my usual fics, but the length of this one just felt 'right' when I finished writing and reread it. This is also my first time writing for Fuse and I'm still working on getting his character down, especially since this was kinda an impulse write :P. Anyways, I hope you liked the story.

[lcnnypooha]

BASICS.

(PEN)NAME.  Ash or Ashheart.

PROUNOUNS.  She/Her.

ZODIAC SIGNS.  Pisces.

TAKEN OR SINGLE.   I’ve always been single. Never been in a relationship.

TIMEZONE.  EST. (Eastern Standard Time.)

THREE FACTS.

I have five cats, one German Shepard dog, and one bearded dragon. If we’re friends I’m probably going to be telling you about my cats latest shenanigans in IMs or Discord.

I love listening to music and I almost always have Spotify playing when I’m writing. I love all kinds of music and if you went to my Spotify you’d see a wide variety. Some Genres include :: Pop, Country, Metal, Classic Rock, Alternative, Rap, R&B, Classical, ect. My most listened to artist last year on Spotify was Rage Against the Machine && my top song was Bullet in the Head by Rage Against the Machine. Followed closely by Alice in Chain’s Rooster && Blackpink’s Kill This Love. The album I listened to on repeat was The Dark Cloud soundtrack.

I love wearing t-shirts with my favorite characters on them.

EXPERIENCE.

I’ve been roleplaying since 2011. I was in middle school when I started roleplaying on a site called Warriorcatsrpg. They later changed their name to Feralfront. Anyway, I started writing warrior cats ocs and over time I switched over to humans and other beings. I didn’t start roleplaying on tumblr until 2017. That is when I first made Lenny’s blog. Back then I wanted to write in the yugioh fandom and over time I branched out to other muses and characters. I even started picking up some canon muses as time went on too.

MUSE PREFERENCE.

I tend to be drawn to a lot of characters I can relate to. A lot of my muses in the past have been shy and sweet, but I have also written some darker characters like Pruedence and more independent characters like Jillian. A lot of my characters tend to have tragic backstories or at least one bad thing has happened to them. Most of the characters I write are female, because I feel like I have an easier time writing them. I’ve written male characters before, but I’ve always struggled with them. 

FLUFF // ANGST. // SMUT.

FLUFF.  I enjoy fluff so much! Fluffy threads are my favorite to write! Give me all the cute and fluffy moments between our muses!

ANGST.  I enjoy writing angsty threads too! 

SMUT.  I have never written smut before, which is why I don’t write it on my blog. The thought makes me uncomfortable. I’m fine with writing moments that lead up to it, but after that I’d like to fade to black or timeskip.

PLOT // MEMES.  Give me all the memes! I’m a meme hoarder! I love to get memes in my inbox. Sometimes it takes me a long time to answer them, but I will reply to them eventually. I love to plot out threads too. But most of the time I’m one of those people who likes to wing it and see where the thread takes us.

tagged by :: @diverse-hearts! Thank you Mira! <3

tagging :: @kngofdrma, @tximidity, @anomalyfated, && @thegoldenheiress​.

[snickiebear]

(no i haven't seen that post on my dash and patiently waited for u to rb it) anyway for the 35 questions thingy (i kinda want to ask u all the questions but i won't be that annoying lol) 4, 6, 9, 16, 22, 31, 32, 33, 34

OMG HI HI YOURE SO SWEET THANK YOU FOR ASKING and so sorry this is obnoxiously long and super rambly 

4) @mouseymightymarvellous (i could write analysis papers on her work, like every single one of them. dont tempt me, i will), @itsthechocopuff (if you haven’t read any of their fics YOU MUST), @capriciouswrites (IF YOU HAVENT READ THEM WHAT ARE YOU DOING I'm literally OBESSED) and IncompleteSentanc on Ao3 (their writing style and their characterizations are AMAZING I LOVEEE)

6)  tbh i find writing easy... until it isn’t LMAO. i try to write things i wanna read and like to write. the thing i find the hardest would be like the actual main idea/plot. for WT&R there wasn’t any real plot, it was literally just me writing what i wanted, same with Gym Rats. for my shikasaku one, its taking so much longer because of the plot and i was like “dude whats the POINT of this” you know? i just realized that this does NOT answer the question LMAO,,, point is: writing is kind of like a facet for me, you turn it on and it flows until it doesn’t.

9) Gai. like his pattern of speech fucks me UP. i’ve seen him written so many ways to where I’m just flailing LMAO. kakashi too cause the man is so complex that idk what side i wanna write from or how i should do his dialogue,,, i try my best and so far everyones been okay with it so we’ll see 

16) one bed troupe (a CLASSIC), god im a WHORE for ‘stupid man falls for woman who could kill him with her pinkie’, and a total slut for ‘badass man with a strength kink’ 

22) my favorite songs change so often that what i listen to changes too. sometimes, ill find a song that matches the vibe of a scene and listen to it on repeat other wise i either listen to Lofi Hip Hop, or my master playlist on spotify right now my favorites are “Butterfly Rain” by Tori Templet, “Yoko Ono” (stripped, but i love the og one too) by Mob Rich and Matt Maeson, “Speaking Off The Record” by Hotel Mira (and then literally any Judah and the Lion/AJR songs)

31) so i have two groups of Ocs: 

A: Characters from my book that i actually want to publish and have been slowly working on the first draft for the past year or so (two female main characters and a flying cat). 

B: Ocs that i rp with DONT LAUGH LISTEN HAHAHA: two of my friends and i have some really serious, planned out rps, that are basically us writing a book together (find them here I KNOW ITS ON QUOTEV please heckle me LMAOO,, feel free to ask me more questions on any of those!) i’ll definitely have to do another post on these cause theres honestly so much i could say 

32) sakura’s insane and eats a god, this is the after

33) alot of the one liners or some of my favorite scenes pop into my head when i’m half alseep or washing the dishes. its like a line of dialogue or a way or wording that i really love. so i have to wake myself up (and i have like some type of insomnia) to type this shit out in my notes or run to dry my hands while chanting the thing in my head before jotting it down. those lines are some of my favorite tbh

34) This isn’t an excerpt from a fic but from my notes when I was world building a mythology for ShikaSaku:

She is a thing of contradictions. The Goddess of Peace and War with the ability to bring forth war and yet tame violence. She is bloodied and dressed in white, a thing of opposites. 

[forthegothicheroine]

Mira, if you were invited to write and direct your dream horror movie/series, what would it be about? What would it look like? Who would you get to act in it?

(This was an ask from @marypsue, in case tumblr is still doing that thing where answering asks looks like talking to yourself.)

Years ago I made up a fake anthology tv show about a vampire holding a bunch of gothic writers as guests/prisoners to see who could write the best horror story.  To be clear, I would still watch that and probably love it!  But I’ll try to come up with something new here.

Two of my favorite kinds of horror are gothic horror (obviously!) and surreal horror.  Could I theoretically combine these?  I think so.  Let’s examine the classic horror trope of the haunted house.  Our gothic heroine inherits a grand but imposing mansion in the middle of nowhere, perhaps even a run-down old castle.  At first she thinks there may be ghosts on the premises, but she (or at least the audience) eventually discovers the truth: the veil between different realities is thin here, and periodically there will be pockets of alternate universes poking through into her home.  Not just ‘what if another side won the war’ alternate universes, but hell-worlds, heaven-worlds, dimensions where everyone is a shadow, dimensions where plants are the lifeform with sentience.  And it’s all too possible to get trapped in one of them.  Through the course of the movie or the series, she has to piece together the multi-dimensional mystery of the previous owner’s gory demise, romance several inhuman suitors, and survive trips through different worlds long enough gain control over the house.

[pearwahsflowers]

Korean dramas

Q1. Your favourite Kdrama ?

This is a bit hard to decide because there are so many different amazing  dramas out there. But since I have to decide, I’ll say Because This Is My First Life, Reply 1997 and most recently Crash Landing On You.

Q2. Your favourite Action/Crime Drama ?

Okay, I’m not a huge fan of crime themed dramas, but The Smile Has Left Your Eyes? A masterpiece.

Q3. Your favourite male lead character ?

Most definetly Park Dong-Hoon in My Mister, and special mention for Ri Jeong Hyeok in Crash Landing On You because I just finished the drama and I fell in looooove with Captain Ri. Oh and Gu Jun Pyo, a classic, but so funny and ultimately you can’t help but get attached to him.

Q4. Your favourite female lead character ?

I think Si Won from Reply 1997 is probably my favorite, and also any characters played by Son Ye Jin.

Q5. Your favourite second lead syndrome ?

Oh my gosh, my heart, Jung Hwan in Reply 1988. ;-; And weirdly enough (because I hated the drama he was in) Choi Young Do.

Q6. Your favourite idol actor?

I loved Park Hyung Sik in SWDBS. But this is the only drama of him that I saw, so I think my answer will be Seo In Guk... The only reason I’m hesitating is because I don’t know if he is considered an Idol. He is a singer, but idk. I love this man sooo much and so far he has never dissapointed me, in acting or in singing. A multi-talented man.

Q7. Your favourite idol actress ?

Eunji and IU.

Q8. Your favourite Song from a Kdrama OST ?

I think this is the most complicated question aaaahh! I’m such a big fan of OST For the sake of nostalgia, Boys Over Flowers and Secret Garden, definetly. But, honestly, historical dramas have the most amazing soundtrack imo. So much emotions and intensivity! As of recent dramas I really like the Reply series OST.

Q9. Your Top 5 OST singers?

4men/Shin Young Jae, Eunji, Junsu, Crush and Yoon Mirae.

Q10. Your favourite line from male/female lead character ?

“I live because I wake up in the morning. I don’t have a reason to live. If living like this is embarrassing then, I’m very embarrassed right now. But still... I want to live because I’m alive.’’ Oh Soo, That Winter The Wind Blows

Q11. Your favourite story ?

The Smile Has Left Your Eyes. I was intrigued from beginning to end!

Q12. Your favourite “I Love You” ?

"Sarangha-o” Ri Jeong Hyeok. I melted with this line, him talking in the Northen dialect is something elseee

Q13. Your favourite kiss ?

This scene from Because This Is My Fist Life.

Q14. Your favourite ending ?

Strong Woman Do Bong Soon’s ending was perfect! I loved it, and Gu Family Book’s ending was also one of the best I’ve watched. 

Q15. A KDrama you started but couldn’t finish ?

To be honest I’m picky when it comes to drama, so if I actually decide to watch a drama, I uSuAllY finish it. But I didn’t finish Shut Up! Flower Boy Band. I just couldn’t get over Byung Hee’s death (oops spoiler), and then there was his best friend developping feelings for the girl he liked... I saw where this was going and I could’t stand it. And to be honest I only started this drama for Lee Min Ki, so...

Q16. A KDrama you watched more than once ?

One? Rewatching dramas is something I do often lol. I watched To The Beautiful You a couple of times, Marry Me Mary too, Reply 1997 a lot! Dalja’s Spring, Discovery Of Love, etc. 

Q17. The worst KDrama that you’ve watched until the end ?

The Heirs. I hated the two lead characters. Also the kissing scenes were a disaster. Also Monstar, even though the music was okay. 

Q18. Best Couple ?

So hard to choose! There is so many cute couples to mention, Ahn Minhyuk & Do Bongsoon in SWDBS, Deok Sun & Taek in Reply 1988, Jeong Yeok & Se Ri in CLOY, so manyyyy

Q19. Have you been watching dramas for very long?

For about 7-8 years I think..? I’m not sure for how long exactly, but it’s been a while.

Q20. First KDrama ?

My first drama was To The Beautiful You, starring the beautiful Sulli (may she rest in peace) and SHINee’s Minho. I watched it because I was (still am) a shawol (SHINee’s fandom name for those who don’t know) and at that time I knew nothing about korean dramas. But one of the boys was starring in something, so of course I had to watch it. And the journey begannnn.

Q21. Your most recently finished drama ?

Crash Landing On You

Q22. A Drama That Is Popular That You Dislike  ?

The Heirs and My Love From The Stars

Q23. A Kdrama which made you so happy ?

She Was Pretty made me so happy because I had watched Park Seo Joon and Hwang Jung Eum play together in Kill Me Heal Me before, and I was so excited to see them as leads in the drama!

Q24. A Kdrama which made you so sad ?

That Winter The Wind Blows, a very beautiful drama but heart breaking. My Mister also made me cry so much.

Q25. What Kdramas are you watching at the moment?

Itaewon Class

Q26. Lastly, have you or do you plan to introduce your friends to them?

I have tried in the past to introduced my two high school best friends to korean dramas but it didn’t really work out ah ah but they both watched a drama or two.

[doginshoe]

I have a mighty thirst! Would you answer all the Christmas asks for Natsu? ^^

I can do! Btw I’m sorry this got so long. I sort of rambled on and on XD

How early do they start decorating their house for christmas?

Decorating? Natsu doesn’t even know the meaning. Though, he would be forced to help decorate the guild with every body as well as some big decorations that the guild helps put up in town (like the huge Christmas tree that Freed keeps alive with runes) but otherwise he doesn’t do much to his house! However, the guild would 100% be decorating early since I can imagine that Mira is a big Christmas person.

point to add:

- Natsu is only allowed to put up Christmas decorations with the supervision of Gray or Juvia.

Do they enjoy christmas specials and movies? If yes which one is their favourite?

I always hc that Natsu, when he was little, didn’t know what Christmas was. I mean, being raised by a dragon and all...

He probably found out about the holiday when it first came up in his first year at the guild. This would Ofc lead to him binging all the Christmas classic upon request of everyone because omg how have you not seen that??

His favourite one would definitely be the Nightmare Before Christmas because 1. WHATS THIS WHATS THIS reflects everything he feels about Christmas and 2. He also would like to kidnap Mr Sante Clause

How do they spend christmas eve? Alone snuggled up in a big sweater or with their (found) families and friends and a big feast? If the latter is the case what foods will be included?

I always feel like there would be a huge feast at the guild every year. They are all found family so it just wouldn’t be right to go off by themselves or in respective groups because what if someone is alone and they don’t know? This is why is becomes Natsu’s favourite time of the year. Everyone one is there and they’re all happy. It makes the pain of Igneel not being there just a little bit easier to carry because he’s surrounded by the warm faces of all he holds dear.

However, I can always imagine that somehow (because they love to annoy her) that team NATSU all wind up back at Lucy’s place very drunk and very full. This leads to absolute chaos when they pull out the party games (remember the special everyone?? Well it’s that every year!)

Though as the years go by the group lessens. Gajeel and Levy have their twins to attend to and soon even Gray and Juvia drop off when they finally get together. Erza always leaves early for a secret meeting and Wendy gets older. So it eventually leads to the original team Natsu only being at Lucy’s house, but they still have fun.

I mean it’s always more fun when they’re together

And you can definitely bet that by the end of the night everyone is still passed out. Happy is curled up at the top of the pillow from eating too much stuffed fish and Natsu and Lucy somehow how fell asleep in the middle of a game. The blondes eyes just grew a little too tired as she sat next to him, his warmth bringing her eye lids down, till soon she falls asleep on his shoulder. And Natsu- well he does what he always wants to do. He picks her up and gets into bed as she clings to his chest like a monkey. Her hair would be tickling his nose but he doesn’t mind because her smell is so nice. And they sleep curled up together just like family - smiles still on their faces.

Do they have special/weird holiday traditions?

YES. Ever since Natsu came to the guild he has been trying to (and failing) to capture Santa. It’s obviously Makarov and the first year he nearly knocks the guild master out as he flies down from ceiling. After a struggle Makarov eventually manages to knock the poor kid out and he’s unconscious for three days afterwards.

This leads to a full on rivalry with Natsu and Santa Clause (aka makarov) because how dare that red bastard knock him out. The plans become elaborate- more fire involved- and Makarov barely comes out alive as he tries to plant presents in the guild every Chirstmas morning

A big layer of snow lies outside, will they go for a calm walk enjoying the winter breeze, build a snowman and do some snowangels or just straight up start a snowball fight with everyone else?

Snowball fight but somehow the snowballs are on fire.

This is also probably another tradition of the guild that was made by Gray and Natsu accidentally. On the first of December it is all out war as the guild splits up into two teams and just hammers each other with snow

Are they more of a hot chocolate or tea drinker?

Natsu would prefer hot chocolate. Though, this boy practically puts anything down his throat, I imagine he has quite a sweet tooth and tea is just too stale for him.

They find themselves under the mistletoe with their crush, what will they do? If they don‘t have a crush what will they do if they stand under the mistletoe with the person they hate the most?

Natsu would be so confused about mistletoe. His first encounter with it was with himself and Gray. Mira (in her younger days) had thought it would be funny to play a prank on the two idiots so she set it up (much to Erza’s disapproval and Lisanna’s disappointment). However, when they’re told they have to kiss each other it leads to a full on fight and they are at each other’s throats in seconds. However, due to an unfortunate tumble and maybe a bit of Christmas mischief, the due end up locking lips as Natsu falls ontop of Gray.

They never get to live it down

His second encounter with missletoe is with Lucy. They’re older and on the way back to her house when they step out the guild. They’re talking, both with grins from ear to ear, when the slam of the guild doors shakes snow onto their heads. They both look up and both their faces immediately turn red (more so Natsu’s ears.) Immediately Lucy is stuttering and looking everywhere at him as she doesn’t know what to do because she’s never kissed anyone before. Though, Natsu can see her embarrassment so he immediately offers her a wide grin before he starts telling her about the first time he stood under the missletoe with Gray. She would laugh till she’s only spilling little giggles, her nerves dying down as her blush turns into a light dusting of pink, and he would use this moment to peck her on the cheek. His face immediately turning from hers as he walks away saying something along the lines of even that being a lot better than kissing Gray. Lucy is very much stunned at first. She holds her cheek as her blush comes back but she’s not angry, and as he turns back to her asking her if she’s coming along, she can only smile at him before she’s hurrying to catch up.

Are they the type of person that can listen to last christmas on loop for eternity and still love it or break a window if they hear it being played within a five miles radius from them?

Natsu would love Christmas music because it reminds him of the time with his family. Though, he would never be around someone who plays it to death until Lucy joins the guild. As soon as December hits she is playing Christmas music on repeat in her apartment. The noise bother him a little bit, but seeing Lucy dance and sing around her apartment is very much worth it so he always enjoys the holiday music

Do they prefer candy canes or sugar cookies?

Does he even know the diffrence? Natsu devours everything so fast I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even know the different taste between the two.

Would they wear an ugly christmas sweater?

Yes. Natsu wouldn’t see the problem with it and it’s 100% a gift from Erza to the whole team, but he’s the only one willing to wear it

[chaosandcontrolx]

fruits and veggies meme

status: accepting!

@vihilum​ said:  eggplant, onion, asparagus, turnip, squash, pumpkin, melon, lemon, lime, cherry, and pepper.

using mira as the icon bc i realized after the fact that she didn’t get any love in any of these answers? priceless. 

this is kind of a long one so click to open!

eggplant - most sexual muse?

without a doubt in my mind. one hundred and ten percent. andrew.

onion -  most emotional muse?

while they all have a healthy amount of emotion to them because im a sucker for angst, alessia is my saddest baby. she doesn’t do quite as well hiding her pain as some of the others - she will cry. 

asparagus -  strongest muse?

physical strength - the obvious answer would be andrew. he’s the biggest, with the most muscle, definitely BUT i also think ryder is probably a close second? he does construction with his dad and works out some, so pound for pound - his size and frame, i think he’s got a good amount of hidden strength to him!

emotional strength - danny.  he isn’t just strong himself, he does everything he can to elevate those around him too. he literally made helping people become mentally stronger his career. 

turnip -  most damaged muse?

weston. the mental issues passed onto him from his parents coupled with the all the emotional torment and trauma that his mom put him through over the years? the guilt of thinking he killed her? wondering if he really did mean to kill her? junior has a lot of things to sort through and its all slowly eating him alive.

squash -  a muse you’d date in real life?

i hardly even like guys irl but i’d date gus in a heartbeat. the sweetest? amazing listener? introvert? will remember things you told him last year? dates in beautiful places with him photographing everything? gus is a keeper!

pumpkin -  a muse you’d hate in real life?

honestly, probably addison. spoiled little rich girl that’s never had to work for anything? she’s a blast to write but if i knew her irl, i probably wouldn’t talk to her. or maybe sofia. who the hell is that sweet all the time?!

melon -  muse whos the most fun while drunk?

the youngbloods know how to party! okay, not really but these two definitely do! they walk in and you just know they’re paying for every round for the rest of the night, addison is belting karaoke classics, and andrew would be the first to start a fight for fun. they’re closing out the night at the bar and andrew is probably leaving in handcuffs. 

lemon -  muse who would be the least fun at a party?

lulu seems like she’d be a depressing drunk. emotional, for sure. lots of past traumas would bubble back up to the surface and she’d probably just end up crying in a corner most of the night talking about how she let down her brother by leaving and it’s her fault he’s so fucked up now. she’d be a mess.

lime -  a fc you’re a sucker for?

please, ask me about the grant gustin tab that i’ve had open for literal months.

cherry -  favourite pair of fcs to put together?

funny @vihilum​ should ask me that bc have you seen how CUTE evan peters and sophie turner were during dark phoenix press? just saying.

also though, i use natalia dyer and charlie heaton both for a reason. a real life couple playing super close but platonic best friends with a little dash of i fucking ship it so hard wtf in there? chefs kiss. 

pepper -  favourite plot for your favourite muse?

listen, im not gonna say that weston is my favorite muse ( bitch, he just might be tho ) but honestly, some of his past plots are still some of my favorites! 

sneaking into a graveyard at midnight to collect a jar of DIRT? with a spoon?? bc a shovel would be “too suspicious, duh!” ??? classic.

fanboying over a serial killer at large TO THAT SERIAL KILLER without realizing it? befriending said serial killer? FINDING OUT! and then saying “fuck it, just don’t kill me or these three people and we’re good! everyone else? have a fucking field day!” LFMADSLFKJALKSDJF im still sad that storyline never actually played out past plotting! 

[cypris-thalsian]

OOC Meet the Mun

– one / NAME / ALIAS. Amanda / Been known and answered to, Mira, Aeris, Rian, Cy, Beaut, ‘that bitch’ among many others. Call me anything but late to dinner though I’ll likely be that too. 

– two /  BIRTHDAY.  July 28 

– three / ZODIAC SIGN.  Leo all day 

– four /  HEIGHT. 5′9 to 5′11 depending on who’s measuring. Had a place try to tell me I was 6′ when I was 14. I just suffice I’m tall but not quite amazon. 

– five  / HOBBIES. Writing, gaming, hiking, listening to music, reading. I like a little bit of everything especially if it helps zone out RL drama. Writing and hanging with fam are up at the top. 

– six /  FAVORITE COLORS. This vary’s so much. It’s kinda impossible to pick a single one. I love the earthy tones with a touch of bohemian flare.

– seven / FAVORITE BOOKS. I’m slacking hard in my reading. two of my favorite series’ however have been Eragon and Anita Blake books. But I also enjoy classics like Pride & Prejudice and Alice in Wonderland. I actually keep a copy of Alice with me most places I go. 

– eight  / LAST SONG LISTENED TO. Hurts So Good - John Mellancamp

– nine  / LAST FILM WATCHED. I can’t remember the last movie I actually watched. But have recently caught up on Black Sails, Victoria, And THe Good Doctor with a few episodes of the OC. 

– ten  / INSPIRATION FOR MUSE. They’re all a little different. For Cy it’s a mix of Moll Flanders and Harlots with a fire-starter/pirate twist. The biggest inspiration when writing characters are their aesthetic with a bit of music thrown in to get in the mindset. I find little things everywhere for inspiration. Situations, other stories, shows, references etc. I prefer to keep stories close to a historical accuracy than the present RL norms. If I wanted to write a modern story I’d do it in a setting outside of WoW or GW2 with something like Delta Green or Vampire the Masquerade. 

– eleven  / DREAM JOB.  Something in regards to Public Health would be amazing. I absolutely loved my time with the State of Alaska in that regard and was sad when I had to let the job go. I’m hoping to get back into the field or at least back to a clinic setting once my youngest is in school. My interests are wide, I’d also love to write professionally, though that happening I’m not holding my breath, a mere fantasy and happy to drabble until if/when I decide to make a go of it. 

– twelve  / MEANING BEHIND YOUR URL. All my OC’s URL are based on their name save for Josalora and that’s more in reference to her skill sets. My OOC blog name stems from a Word Press page I ran for a long while as a means to vent and write and inspire others. Cascading Contemplations being a reference to the spilling thoughts that come to mind throughout the day be them reflections or stray realizations or curiosities. See the Blog Roll HERE

Tagged by @thalsianiii Tagging anyone who would like to and hasn’t yet. 

[jcmorrigan]

Shattered and Mended

The F/O? XR from Buzz Lightyear of Star Command. The S/I? Rachel Sparks - fifth ranger of Team Lightyear with a big heart for justice (and no glasses in this ‘verse because I suppose Nebula would surgically augment my eyes to make sure Zurg couldn’t rip the glasses off and stomp on them, which is a Zurg tactic). The writings I did for XR are actually from a rather structured AU that runs alongside the whole show, and tell versions of episodes that are impacted by my s/i’s existence. This one goes with the ep “Eye of the Storm,” though it takes off after that ep’s timeline ends and does a whole other act that’s just basically a sickfic. This is actually probably the longest selfship piece I’ve written, but I love it because of the shenanigans.

Also, if you can guess what three works of fiction I appropriated for the bingewatch show, cookies for you.

***

It was a typical week for Team Lightyear. Answer a distress call, discover it was made by the daughter of a mad scientist (former Star Command researcher Spiro Lepton, in fact, though he now preferred to go by “von Madman,” apparently) in order to lure Team Lightyear into said mad scientist’s clutches, beat mad scientist after literally everyone on the team made him stronger by consecutively using energy-based attacks on him despite seeing the previous efforts fail, send mad scientist to jail, learn that mad scientist’s daughter isn’t so bad after all, learn that mad scientist’s daughter has a crush on your team leader, go out for group lunch at Cosmo’s.

           Cosmo knew by this point that he was best served getting Booster’s order off the oven first, meaning Rachel had to try and keep the saliva of hunger from escaping her lips as she watched him devour an entire plate of squirming curly fries in one go. Hot, crispy, lightly-spiced curly fries. Maybe she should’ve ordered that, she wondered, instead of the spurfion rings. At least this time, XR hadn’t forgotten he couldn’t eat curly fries and tried to put one in his mouth.

           Booster remarked that it was the perfect way to top off the day after defeating evil, and that seemed to be the cue for the reply: “Daddy wasn’t always evil. He used to be a good man.”

           Rachel wondered how exactly Bonnie had tracked them all down. It was a little creepy. In the grand scheme, however, that hardly mattered, as Rachel could read the dismay on Bonnie’s face. It couldn’t have been easy, living with the burden of having a man who literally renamed himself “madman” as your parent.

           Bonnie concluded her statement with “Just like Buzz” and turned to place her hands on Buzz’s shoulder and forearm.

           Rachel could sense Buzz’s discomfort immediately; he’d tensed up so hard, she could feel it from across the table. They’d all been briefed on Buzz’s history with Bonnie, and Rachel could hardly blame him. Erasing the memories he had of her as a child couldn’t be easy. Rachel pictured it for a minute – looking at Bonnie’s sultry expression and overlaying a grade-schooler’s gap-toothed visage over top. This prompted a shudder. Creepy.

           It got worse; as Buzz tried to convince Bonnie that her father had gone off the deep end (his black-and-white morals would be the death of him, but wasn’t that what made him lovable?), Bonnie begged him for attention, climbing into the booth, crawling toward him, attempting to pin him down. Rachel suddenly lost all sympathy for Bonnie Lepton. She now seemed almost predatory, physically positioning herself to fence Buzz against the window, making it clear what she wanted. Rachel wondered if she should step in, but found herself frozen, unsure exactly what move to make.

           Mira, as usual, decided to go the direct route, pulling Buzz toward her by the collar and hissing, “Can’t you see she has a huge crush on you?”

           Upon affirming this, Buzz returned to Bonnie; “It’s perfectly natural for you to have feelings for me. But they’re meaningless! It’s the classic damsel-in-distress syndrome. I rescue you, you go all moony!”

           That wasn’t how Rachel would’ve described Bonnie’s demeanor.

           Mira had nothing to say to this but a facepalm.

           It got worse when Buzz said he’d seen this dozens of times, to which Bonnie told him “I thought I was special,” and Rachel didn’t know where she could’ve gotten that idea at all, seeing how Buzz had done nothing but brush her off and turn her down and was she physically unable to take a hint?

           “Sorry, kiddo,” Buzz told her. “Just doin’ my job.”

           At least Buzz had been able to stand up for himself. Rachel felt quite protective of him in that moment; Bonnie certainly wasn’t the sort who would give up the chase easily. Could she not see how uncomfortable she was making him? Did she not get the concept of how their history was complicated? Did she not –

           But as Bonnie was pulling away from the table, XR tried to intercept her. “Hey, I think you’re special!” he said, pouring on the charm far too thickly as he clasped one of her hands in both of his own. “Aaaand, since you’re new to civilization and all, I should tell you – “ He whipped about to produce two mirrors from his inventory. “I am considered quite the looker!”

           Now Rachel had something to be even more upset about.

           Mira hissed “XR!” at him, not without a quick, pointed glance toward Rachel that informed her of the pure rage surging through the blonde.

           “That’s all right,” Bonnie said, flirtily planting a kiss on XR’s helmet –

           It’s that easy? Rachel thought. What makes you think you can just do that?

           “At least he’s treating me like a GROWN WOMAN,” Bonnie asserted.

           No, Rachel thought, he’s treating you like a piece of meat, and this should be why I’m glad we’re just friends, why I’m glad he doesn’t do this shit to me, but that still doesn’t explain why I’m the only woman in the entire galaxy he hasn’t even looked at –

           “Unlike a certain STUFFED-SPACESUIT JARHEAD ROCKET JOCKEY I KNOW,” Bonnie fired off as XR whooped his joy at having been kissed.

           There was nothing about this Rachel didn’t hate.

           “What?” Buzz asked when Bonnie had left. “What’d I say wrong?”

           “I don’t even KNOW where to begin,” Mira grunted.

           “Oh, no, Buzz was fine,” Rachel growled. She leaned out over the table to point accusingly at XR; “But can YOU stop being a perv for literally TEN SECONDS? Or is that a standard function of your programming, to be a complete and total creep toward every woman you cross paths with?”

           “If I can remind you, SHE was the one who kissed ME,” XR boasted proudly.

           “That was a pity kiss,” Rachel snarled. “You’re lucky you didn’t get your entire head smacked right off, which is what I would’ve done if I were her and didn’t know you.”

           “You’re just jealous that I’m a babe magnet,” XR teased. “You WISH you could get the attention I do.”

           Of course, he didn’t know exactly how hard that hit. That didn’t make a lick of difference.

           Rachel made a loud, wordless scream of frustration before forcing herself to be calm long enough to say “Mira…Booster…please let me out so I can storm away in a rage.”

           Seeing Rachel’s temper flaring as hard as it was, Mira and Booster wasted no time evacuating the booth so Rachel could stomp angrily toward the women’s restroom.

           Buzz watched her in confusion. “Is she…ah…is she gonna be okay?”

           “I just want it on record that I did NOTHING wrong here,” XR stated, arms folded.

           Mira buried her face in both hands. “Booster, you, me, and Rachel are the only three smart people left at this table.”

           “But Rachel’s not at the table,” Booster pointed out. “Maybe you should go after her, since…you know…you’re the only other woman here…”

           “No,” Mira sighed as she raised her face, “she needs to be alone right now – “

           Buzz was already making way toward the restrooms.

           “I SAID SHE NEEDS TO BE ALONE RIGHT NOW!” Mira yelled, to no avail.

           “SOME people just don’t know when they’ve crossed the line,” XR commented, earning him angry glares from Mira and Booster.

           Rachel paced back and forth across the women’s room for a bit, reminding herself not to examine the floor too long for fear of seeing the level of grime that was actually there and touching her boots. How dare he? No, he couldn’t know, but the fact that he was accusing her of being jealous of his ability to attract attention (which he didn’t even have; Bonnie was just as much of a shameless flirt as he and he had the luck to cross her path) when in fact, she did want to be able to attract attention, but only of one person, the worst person, the person who should have just proven she shouldn’t want to be anything more than friends with, and he was lucky to even be that –

           Frustratedly, she began to sing in hopes of getting rid of some excess negative energy, hardly thinking about the song itself.

           Why did she even still like him? He’s terrible, she told herself. But she couldn’t believe that anymore. Not after he’d engineered that entire scheme to get her un-fired from Team Lightyear. Not after their conversations regarding how messed up they both were in the head. Not after their deal, trading janitorial work for office work. No, they were at the very least friends now, and Rachel had to live with that, and the very act of being friends with XR kept reminding her of what was good about him, and what made her admire him, which clashed so horribly with when he did things like this – said things like that –

           The sound of a flushing toilet. A woman exited the stall and fixed a rather disgruntled look upon Rachel, who was silenced sheepishly as the woman began to wash her four hands. Perhaps, Rachel realized, it would’ve been a good idea to check the restroom for occupants before pacing around it singing lyrics like “IS IT LOVE? IS IT LOVE? OR JUST THE DRUGS PULSING IN MY VEINS?”

           The singing had worked a little bit, anyway. There was no reason for Rachel to be that angry. Her friend was a womanizer-wannabe, he’d managed to find someone his charms temporarily worked on by the sheer scope of trying them on everyone, they’d had a moment, she wanted someone else all along. No big deal. This was just Rachel’s problem. Pining made a person overreact.

           Jealous of getting the attention he did, indeed.

           There were things you just didn’t say, even if it turned out you were right about them.

           Shortly after the other woman left the restroom, Rachel did the same, practically colliding with Buzz Lightyear as she did so. After both gave a “Whoa!” and backed off, Rachel was reminded of the other problem.

           “I, uh…” Buzz began, “I just wanted to make sure, you know, that you were okay.”

           “I’m fine,” Rachel said with a forced smile. “Who doesn’t get fed up with their teammates every once in a while?”

           “Even I know that feeling,” Buzz admitted with a smile, “though don’t tell them that.”

           “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything,” Rachel blurted. “When Bonnie was doing…the stuff she was doing.”

           “What do you have to be sorry for?” Buzz asked. “Like I said: the damsel-in-distress syndrome. Besides, the more I think about it, the more I wonder if taking her up on the whole date thing wouldn’t actually be that bad of an idea.”

           Rachel flinched. “Buzz, do you even LIKE her?”

           “What’s not to like about Bonnie Lepton?” Buzz asked. “She’s a confident woman who sees the good in people. Everyone should like her!”

           “No. I’m asking if you LIKE her. YOU KNOW HOW I MEAN.”

           “Well, uh…” Buzz met Rachel’s piercing gaze with a rather hollow look. “Not right now, but you never know. Things can happen.”

           “Are you thinking about asking her out because she PESTERED you?”

           “She wasn’t pestering!” Buzz argued. “She happens to have a mild crush on me – “

           “A MILD crush.”

           “ – and there’s a chance we’re compatible, and this will make her happy!” Buzz insisted.

           “Yeah, but…she makes you REALLY uncomfortable,” Rachel argued. “Don’t tell me I’m wrong. I SAW you two.”

           “It wasn’t that bad!” Buzz argued.

           “I’m just afraid that if you give in because she bothered you into it,” Rachel told him, “then you’re gonna end up even more uncomfortable. Or just hurt.”

           “Listen, Rachel,” Buzz said patiently, “I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself. It’s gonna take more than a bad date to hurt me. It doesn’t even take EVIL EMPEROR ZURG to hurt me!”

           “I’m just trying to look out for you, okay?” Rachel insisted. “I know you can take care of yourself, but…I get worried. It’s what I do. She shouldn’t have put that kind of pressure on you. It isn’t RIGHT. Even I…”

           And here’s why it really wasn’t that easy. She’d known it since the Petra incident.

           “…I had this guy I liked, once,” she said meekly. “A lot. But I knew he wasn’t interested in me at all. And I NEVER wanted to put him through what Bonnie’s putting you through. Even if it was hard having to see him and keep it all bottled up. I just…I can’t – couldn’t do that to him. Even if he was an asshole who deserved a little punishment sometimes.” She sighed. “If you wanna go out with Bonnie, that’s fine. I just don’t want this to go wrong for you.”

           “I’ll be fine,” Buzz assured her. “I appreciate the concern, though. You’ve got a good heart.”

           “Yeah, yeah.” Rachel made to head back to the table. “Let’s go get our food. They probably brought my spurfion rings, and I’m starving.”

           “Rachel.”

           She paused, her back turned to Buzz. Her head swiveled to get a good look at him.

           Candidly, Buzz stated, “Any guy who wouldn’t see how amazing you are is a MORON.”

           She said the only thing she could say: “That’s exactly the problem.”

           He didn’t ask, so she didn’t elaborate. They returned to the booth, where their orders were in fact waiting, and it seemed that already, Rachel had missed the time-honored ritual where XR had attempted to casually steal a spurfion ring off her plate only to remember the hard way, yet again, that he wasn’t able to consume food. She gave this the barest acknowledgement, re-taking her seat by the window and making a point of not looking directly at XR for the rest of the meal.

           Buzz began to spell out his ideas for the date he was planning with Bonnie: “So I was thinking I’d take her to good old Cosmic Crunchies – “

           “Buzz,” XR sighed, “I thought the point was that you were treating her like a grown-up. That COMPLETELY defeats the purpose. Also, Cosmic Crunchies? Really? How old are YOU, again?”

           Rachel just barely managed to disguise her inappropriately-placed laugh as a cough. Curse him. (Though now was obviously a bad time to say that she herself wouldn’t be opposed to Cosmic Crunchies, so she kept that one secret.)

           Buzz laid out the rest of his plans, and Rachel couldn’t help but think that this was about to go terribly, horribly wrong.

***

           Things had gone about as badly as Rachel could have predicted if not worse. Lepton (or “von Madman,” as he preferred, apparently) had somehow enlarged himself to monumental proportions, solidified his crystal shell, and carried Bonnie off into the city. By the time the majority of the squad arrived on scene, it seemed all that was left of Buzz was a Buzz-shaped imprint in the ground.

           “Poor Buzz,” Booster whimpered, looking at the site of the damage, “he’s gone!”

           “Life will be so empty without him,” XR moaned.

           “I can’t believe – “ Rachel attempted.

           “By the way,” XR interrupted, “who gets his car?”

           “Wow,” Rachel huffed. “Mr. Sensitivity, aren’t you?”

           Thankfully, Buzz hadn’t actually been crushed, crawling up out of where he’d been punched into the floor. Booster excitedly plucked him from the indent, crying, “YOU’RE ALIVE!”

           Rachel let out a sigh of absolute relief.

           Buzz wrenched himself from one of Booster’s bone-crushing hugs, barreling toward the edge of the rooftop where they had all gathered to try to intercept Lepton (or “von Madman”…apparently) as he barked, “No time for mushy stuff, rangers! Madman is loose!”

           “Hey, yeah, about that?” Rachel called after Buzz as he barreled to the edge of the rooftop. “Just thought maybe we should discuss how this is related to what we talked about earlier regarding – “

           “No time for that either!” Buzz called back as he made a flying leap off the building.

           Rachel all but deflated as the rest of the team followed. Eventually, she mustered up the willpower to give chase. If he’d just listened to her, none of this would be happening, she thought.

           A direct attack on Lepton (“von Madman,” apparently) failed thrice in a row, and the blasts of pure energy he emitted to attempt to eliminate Team Lightyear en masse ended up causing collateral damage when they missed. Buzz’s argument that he and Bonnie were on a date rolled off Lepton (“von Madman,” apparently)’s back like water off a duck.

           “Seriously,” Rachel groaned, “this can NOT get any – “

           “DON’T,” XR warned, “SAY IT.”

           That was when Lepton (“von Madman,” apparently) commandeered the city’s main generator and erupted into titanic size.

           “That had NOTHING to do with what I just said!” Rachel barked as the group landed on another nearby rooftop to assess.

           “Oh, really?” XR countered. “Haven’t I warned you about what happens EVERY TIME ANYONE SAYS THOSE WORDS?”

           “It’s a coincidence,” Rachel grunted.

           “This and every other time?”            “It has not happened every single time.”

           “NINETY TIMES out of the past NINETY-FIVE that someone has said ‘this can’t get any worse,’” XR pointed out, “it has GOTTEN WORSE.”

           “You kept TRA – “ Rachel shook her head. “Of course you kept track.”

           “Plan?” Mira asked. “Anybody got a plan? Because we could REALLY use a plan right now.”

           Buzz surveyed the generator before making his decision: “It’s up to you, XR. You’ve gotta reach the cutoff valve. We’ll stall him.”

           “I’m sorry,” Rachel broke in, “XR does what?”            “I agree,” XR repeated; “XR does what? One false move, and someone could be blown to bits! Maybe me!”

           “That’s why it’s up to you,” Buzz insisted, giving the robot a gentle push toward the edge of the roof.

           “Ummm…I don’t like this plan,” Rachel argued. “I REALLY don’t like this plan.”

           “But if anything happens to XR,” Booster reminded her, “he can just be rebuilt.”

           “I thought you were mad at him anyway about the Bonnie thing,” Mira whispered in Rachel’s ear.

           “I am,” Rachel hissed back. “That doesn’t mean I have to like the plan where he’s required to make the suicide move.”

           “Then which one of us SHOULD make that move?”

           “Uh…” Rachel had no answer for that.

           “It’s not ideal,” Mira reminded her, “but it’s our only play.”

           “Fine,” Rachel huffed. “But I want to remind EVERYONE LISTENING HERE that we would have to go through NONE OF THIS if Buzz had just NOT CAVED TO BEING PESTERED BY A WOMAN HE DIDN’T LIKE!”

           “We would have to go through none of this,” Buzz countered, “if Lepton – “

           “Von Madman, apparently,” Rachel broke in.

           “If Lepton hadn’t pushed the limits of his research too far,” Buzz concluded. “Now let’s MOVE!”

           Four blasted off; Buzz, Mira, and Booster made a beeline for Lepton (“von Madman,” apparently)’s line of vision while XR made a break for the assigned valve. Rachel stared after them all in exasperation for a solid thirty seconds before yelling, “WHEN DID THE I-TOLD-YOU-SO SQUAD BECOME THE I-TOLD-YOU-SO RACHEL?”

           Then, knowing full well what she had to do, she blasted off to join the diversion effort.

           Buzz tried to appeal to Lepton’s humanity. Mira argued that Bonnie needed a normal life. Rachel knew she had to chip in her two cents, to be as loud as ever in order to draw attention, but her eyes kept darting over to the valve, where XR was suctioning his way up the generator. He’ll be fine, she told herself. If he gets smashed, we just piece him back together again. And after hitting on Bonnie, he deserves to be smashed anyway. Multiple times, in fact.

           She turned back to Lepton. “BONNIE’S DOING JUST FINE!” she argued. “THERE ARE WAY WORSE GUYS SHE COULD’VE PICKED THAN BUZZ LIGHTYEAR! AND SHE LOVES YOU! WHY WON’T – “

           A faint, metallic scream. Rachel was cut off midsentence. She whipped to look; XR had somehow gotten one arm wrapped up in the valve, then had that arm accidentally extended so he was dangling off the tower. Not that this is my problem, Rachel insisted to herself. Typical of him, anyway.

           “DR. LEPTON!” Booster added. “YOU HAVE TO LISTEN TO – “

           The glow of the crystals dimmed. Perhaps, Rachel thought, Lepton (“von Madman,” apparently) had decided to take their words to heart, to give up his power grab –

           Or perhaps XR falling halfway down the tower and screaming had alerted him to what the team was trying to do.

           Yes. Definitely that second one.

           A low growl formed in the scientist’s throat. He balled up one enormous hand into a boulder-esque fist.

           I am absolutely not getting involved, Rachel told herself. This is not my problem.

           The minute she finished that thought, she blasted off.

           She intercepted XR before Lepton (“von Madman,” apparently) could shatter him. Seeing as Rachel hadn’t really planned this, acting more upon instinct than anything else, she didn’t exactly focus on keeping airborne, and the sudden added weight of an entire robot in her arms drove her path in a decidedly downward direction. She did, however, have the presence of mind to roll over in midair as the pavement loomed. After all, she hadn’t risked her life to stop Lepton (“von Madman,” apparently) from shattering XR only for him to get dashed on the road.

           Rachel landed on her back, slamming into the pavement hard, and the subsequent shooting pain in her right shoulder informed her that this had been a very bad idea. Unbidden, a shriek escaped from her lips. As XR positioned himself to standing, she sat up agonizingly, still whimpering from the shooting pain running through her shoulder.

           “Whoa, nice save!” XR told her. “If you hadn’t done that, I would NOT have come out of that in one piece aaaaaaaaand you didn’t come out of that in one piece, did you?”

           So he’d finally noticed that her eyes were misting up with tears. “No SHIT, XR,” she snapped.

           “Oh,” he replied, “wow. Yeah, okay, that…that doesn’t look good. You should DEFINITELY get that checked out.”

           “Oh, God,” she moaned, “don’t tell me it’s broken. Is it out of place?”

           “Well, it’s hard to say at this point, but – what EXACTLY are you worried is broken?”

           “MY FUCKING SHOULDER,” Rachel growled, immediately regretting her harsh tone the moment it had come out – though, in her defense, the fact that her shoulder might have, in fact, been broken wasn’t doing her temperament any favors. “What did you THINK?”

           “How would you expect ME to know?” XR replied. “All I know is the look on your face is NOT the look of a person who doesn’t need medical attention.”

           Rachel’s gaze was diverted upward; Buzz, Mira, and Booster had tried and failed to engage Lepton (“von Madman,” apparently) in direct hand-to-hand combat, and now the crystalline villain had leapt off the generator, stalking Buzz down.

           “We can’t stay here,” Rachel grunted as she used her left hand to pivot into a standing position less than gracefully.

           “You’re telling me!” XR cried, seizing Rachel’s hand and making a break for it –

           Her right hand.

           He let go after she shrieked even more piercingly. “THAT WAS THE SHOULDER,” she yelled.

           “Again,” he retorted, “HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT?”

           “Just RUN, dumbass!”

           They bolted, Rachel’s shoulder feeling no better as time elapsed. Once they’d reached what seemed to be a safe distance, they observed the grand finale playing out.

           The entire generator was destroyed in the melee, but it was Bonnie herself who struck the final blow, dealing a hit to Lepton (“von Madman,” apparently)’s weak spot on his chest and bringing him back down to humanity. Rachel would’ve fist-pumped in Bonnie’s honor if she weren’t still distracted by the burning in her shoulder.

           “You think it’s safe?” she asked after Lepton (no longer “von Madman,” apparently), Bonnie, Buzz, Mira, and Booster had been conversing for some time.

           “You can NEVER be too careful,” XR told her. “Luckily, I can assess the situation by reading their lips from this distance.” After a moment of observation, he muttered, “Pretty sure he just said ‘Donut candelabra’ – “

           “Okay, no, that’s not gonna work.” Rachel made her way to the others, every curse she knew firing off in her brain as a result of the shoulder. Fuck Lepton, she thought, for making me have to do that. Fuck Buzz for not listening to me. And fuck XR in particular for being the exact reason my shoulder is probably wrecked.

           “How do we know we can trust you?” Buzz was asking Lepton as Rachel approached.

           “I promise,” Lepton replied.

           That seemed to be where it ended, prompting Rachel to say, “Oh, that’s IT? We’re going to trust him just like THAT?”

           “It really wasn’t his fault,” Bonnie asserted. “The crystals were affecting his brain.”

           Rachel wasn’t sure how far that explanation would fly. After all, substance abuse could make people act severely out of character, but she was under the impression Lepton had at least some control over his actions. Then again, she wasn’t the judge or the jury here. That honor fell to Buzz, so she looked at him.

           “Well, uh, okay,” Buzz stated. “After the LGMs CLEAR him.”

           Rachel could accept that. Whatever misgivings she had, Buzz had yet to be wrong when it came to judging character.

           “And if you’ll, uh…let us finish our…y’know, ahhh…” he sputtered.

           “Dinner date?” Bonnie finished.

           So that was still on, Rachel thought to herself.

           “Right,” Buzz confirmed. “What she said.”

           Rachel might as well accept this. Maybe Buzz actually did have feelings for Bonnie that went beyond pitying her pestering. Maybe this would actually go somewhere. After all, it wasn’t like things could get –

           No. She was not about to become statistic ninety-six. Not even mentally.

           “YAY!” Booster cried, doing a small jump for joy. “Everything worked out PERFECT! Great job, everyone!” He gave Mira’s left shoulder and Rachel’s right shoulder a simultaneous, hearty clap.

           Which got Rachel to scream again, putting all eyes on her. That jolt had hit hard, and now she was crying again, which she really resented.

           “Are you okay?” Mira asked in concern.

           “No,” Rachel answered softly, at least feeling a little better that Mira’s response was so caring. “I think I broke my fucking shoulder.”

           “Uh, yeahhhhh,” XR confirmed (when had he gotten here? Rachel bristled at his presence). “I hate to break up the happy family reunion, but we have a ranger that needs a trip to the ER, stat.”

           “And whose fault is that?” Rachel growled.

           “Ranger,” Buzz reminded her, “I specifically assigned XR to that valve because he could take the risk of damage without any lasting effects.”

           That, Rachel couldn’t argue with. Maybe the person she should be angry with was herself. Her eyes flicked downward to the pavement.

           “Still, that was an admirable display of loyalty for your fellow ranger,” Buzz told her. “I can’t get too mad at you for wanting to protect your teammate and friend. Even if he is infinitely more durable than you are.” He took three steps to get right in front of Rachel. “We’re going to get you back to base for an examination of that shoulder.” Pivoting, he said, “Sorry, Bonnie, but – “

           “No,” Rachel said quickly. “Don’t. I don’t need the whole squad to go with me. You’re on a date. Go enjoy it.”

           “You, uhhhh…” Buzz regarded Rachel with confusion. “You WANT me to be on a date with Bonnie?”

           “If that’s what your heart wants,” she replied, “then – no. Forget it. Just – you’re an adult too. This is your decision.”

           “All right,” Buzz told her. Then: “Mira! Booster! XR! Take Rachel back to the Star Command med bay, and watch that shoulder.”

           “Right!” Mira responded.

           “Righty-o, Buzz!” Booster agreed.

           “Consider her shoulder WATCHED,” XR concluded.

           Rachel didn’t want to see him. She didn’t want to be anywhere near him. Logically, she was aware that this was completely her fault, but she wanted to pin the blame on XR for making her care, for not caring back, and for unwittingly orchestrating this entire situation without a clue.

           Though, that was the thing: unwittingly. He had no way of knowing how angry it made her to see him so casually trying to pick up Bonnie. He had no way of knowing anything. It was all on her. On her, on her, on her –

           “So, uh, Rach?”

           They’d all begun walking back to cruiser 42, and there he was, right on cue. Rachel looked down to meet XR’s eyes, dealing him a very sour look.

           “I reaaaaaaaally owe you one for this,” he told her.

           She flinched, surprised. Touched, even. It was only one sentence, and she had no idea if he’d even follow up, but it went miles toward making things better.

 ***

           “You did WHAT?”

           Rachel sat on an examination bed, the LGMs crawling about to observe every part of her body they could assess. She was now clad in a loose-fitting tunic and pants rather than her suit; getting them on around her shoulder was more hassle than she’d have liked. The hurting hadn’t subsided; she’d just gotten used to it. Somewhat.

           Mira, Booster, and XR were hanging back against the wall, watching the examination go down with concern plastered on all of their faces. Nebula was overseeing, and it was he who was less than happy with Rachel.

           “I said,” Rachel sighed, “I hurt my shoulder in a rescue attempt.”

           “WHOSE RESCUE ATTEMPT?”

           “…XR’s,” she admitted. “I was trying to stop XR from getting shattered by von Madman.” It sounded even worse when she said it out loud.

           “Ranger!” Nebula cried – yes, he was angered, but Rachel could still tell from his tone that it stemmed from a place of worry – “XR is literally built to be destroyed and reconstructed! His name stands for ‘Expendable Ranger’!”

           “Experimental,” Rachel said without thinking. “It’s ‘Experimental Ranger.’”

           She heard a mutter from the wall of “You know you’re in trouble when Dad uses your FULL name…”

           “If XR gets blown to bits,” Nebula continued, “we can just build him again from the ground up! We CAN’T do that with YOU! You aren’t replaceable! What if you’d been killed pulling off that maneuver?”

           “I know,” Rachel said softly. “I was being a dumbass.”

           “LANGUAGE, ranger!”

           “Sorry.”

           Nebula sighed. “This could’ve been a lot worse. I just don’t wanna see you get hurt permanently from making any more reckless decisions!”

           “I’ll play it safer,” Rachel said sheepishly. “I promise.”

           “You better. I don’t wanna lose you from the ranks!”

           That statement probably should’ve made Rachel feel better, warmer and fuzzier, but it ultimately didn’t do anything to reduce the size of the swirling pit in her stomach. Now she was here having to dance around the fact that she’d nearly gotten herself killed over an unrequited crush, and she was saying this to the head honcho himself. How could she possibly convey to him that she just couldn’t stand seeing XR put in what for an organic would be mortal danger – especially when Nebula was incredibly right and she’d just injured herself needlessly?

           “Finished assessment!” one of the LGMs announced.

           “What’s the prognosis?” Nebula asked.

           “Not broken!” the LGM declared. “Sprain!”  

           Rachel let out a sigh of relief at that.

           “Well, that could’ve been worse,” Nebula remarked. “That can be patched up with a simple enough operation. After that, you’ll have to stay off duty for two weeks.”            “TWO WEEKS?” Rachel shrieked. “No. NO. I can’t be off duty for two weeks. Zurg will attack, Torque will run another prison break, NOS-4-A2 will go on a murder spree, this will probably ALL HAPPEN WITHIN THE SAME DAY, and I HAVE TO BE THERE!”

           “Two weeks, ranger,” Nebula barked, “and that’s an order!”

           All considered, two weeks probably wasn’t bad. Rachel thought she’d heard once that in the old days, before medical technology had advanced to this point, a sprain could have a person out for a month or two. That was unthinkable.

           “Get her under,” Nebula demanded. “I want her patched on the double. The sooner she can start the recuperation period, the sooner she can finish.”

           “On the double!” several of the LGMs chorused.

           She was whisked away before anyone could say anything more. Though she did catch the fading sound of Booster saying, “Gosh, two whole weeks? That’s gonna be tough!” and Mira responding, “Yeah. Poor Rachel. I just can’t – “

           They were out of earshot before Rachel could hear whether the one most closely tied to this little debacle had anything to say.

           Maybe that was for the best.

 ***

           Since Team Lightyear was on active duty, the four who didn’t have Grade II shoulder sprains remained at base. Rachel, however, was confined to bed in her and Mira’s shared apartment.

           “You gonna be okay?” Mira had asked before leaving.

           “Yeah,” Rachel sighed.

           “You don’t sound convinced,” Mira pointed out.

           “Mira,” Rachel reminded her, “I just sprained my fucking shoulder saving an invincible person from a non-fatal experience because of a misguided and one-sided crush. I am as fine as I’m gonna get.”

           “Well…” Mira shrugged. “At least your heart was in the right place?”

           “I just…hate seeing him get hurt,” Rachel replied. “But don’t tell him that. I am REALLY mad at him now.”

           “Lips are zipped!” Mira promised. “Okay. I really do have to get going. Anything I can get you before I leave?”

           “Nah,” Rachel replied. “I can at least get to the kitchen and back. That’s all I’m gonna need.”

           “’Kay,” Mira said. “I’m heading out.”

           “Have fun!” Rachel told Mira, mustering up a small show of happiness.

           “As much fun as I can on Tanker Alley duty,” Mira said with a wink. “Be GLAD you’re missing this one.”

           Then Rachel’s roommate was gone, and Rachel was left alone to stew. Which she did in silence for about half an hour. Then, realizing she needed to take proactive steps toward not spending two weeks in a swamp of self-pity, she picked up the remote on the bedside table, flicking on the television and opening up the streaming selection.

           Her heart skipped a beat when she realized that Bulletproof Hearts: Despair Days had updated by two episodes without her even noticing. That would kill some time and put her mind on something more positive. Would today be the day that Spice Skomaru would finally figure out the mastermind behind the evil horde? Would her premonition of the future finally be given context?

           Before Rachel could click the episode into playing, there was a ring at the doorbell.

           Solicitors, she thought, or door-to-door religious converters asking her if she’d heard of the gospel of Narflak. So she ignored it.

           Only for the doorbell to ring again. And again. And again and again and again and again –

           “God dammit,” Rachel muttered as she slid out of bed. At least her pajamas were conservative; if she had to answer the door to sign for a package or anything, she wouldn’t have to worry about the delivery person seeing more than they should. Almost to the door, she had the presence of mind to test the waters by calling out, “WHO’S THERE?”

           “ROOM SERVICE!”

           She knew that voice. She would be able to pick that voice out of a crowd of one thousand. And there was absolutely no reason for the owner of that voice to be here, now.

           In utter disbelief, Rachel opened the door –

           And XR breezed into the apartment, nearly knocking her over. “Worry not!” he proclaimed. “Nurse XR is here to tend to your every need!”

           Rachel could only stare at him dumbfoundedly.

           He shifted from a chipper demeanor to staring her down (insofar as a person could do from a two foot height difference), hands on where hips would have been on a person. “Shouldn’t you be in bed, missy?”

           She regained her ability to counter. “If I was in bed, I wouldn’t have been able to open the door, dumbass.”

           “I don’t wanna hear aaaaaany more excuses! Back to bed! Go on! Scoot!”

           Wondering if she was actually asleep and having a fever dream, Rachel obeyed, walking back into the bedroom and climbing back into the bed – ever more thankful that her pajamas didn’t show much off.

           XR followed her into the bedroom, pausing just before the bed to pop his drawer and rummage about in it. “Let’s see here,” he muttered, “I brought one fleece blanket – don’t ask where I got it – one very fluffy pillow – don’t ask where I got it – one Jo-Adian-sized ice pack – don’t ask where I got it – and several extra-strength painkillers not on your prescription; DEFINITELY don’t ask where I got those.”

           “I, uh…” Rachel realized she had to give in to the nonsense and stop trying to figure out what in the galaxy was happening. “I could use all of those things except the illegal narcotics.”

           “You see, I THOUGHT you might feel that way,” XR remarked, “so I’m just gonna leave them in the drawer in case you want them later – “

           “PLEASE DO NOT LEAVE ILLEGAL NARCOTICS IN MY APARTMENT WHERE THEY COULD BE FOUND ON A SWEEP,” Rachel said fiercely.

           “Fine,” XR said haughtily, replacing the bag of variously sized and multicolored pills in his drawer. “I’ll keep them with ME unless you change your mind. But if you want them while I’m on mission tomorrow, that’s just too bad for you.”

           It took Rachel a moment to stop thinking about how she was already on thin ice for the antidepressants hidden at the bottom of the panty drawer and realize what he’d just said. “On mission…tomorrow? Don’t you have one TODAY? Tanker Alley?”

           “About that,” XR replied. “I put in a word with Commander Nebula and I just so happened to mention that I am VERY behind on my paperwork. I have literally MOUNTAINS of reports to file. So I got a free pass for the day in order to get a head start on those hours and hours’ worth of reports that need filing.”

           That didn’t exactly clear things up. “So…why are you – “

           “Hours and hours’ worth of reports,” XR clarified, “that I’m NOT GOING TO DO.”

           “Oh,” Rachel realized. “Wait. So you lied to get a whole day off to – “

           “Stop you from going insane having no one to talk to, yes.”

           “You say that like talking to you doesn’t inherently make me more insane.”

           “Har-dee-har.”

           “Did Booster and Mira guilt you into this?” Rachel asked.

           “Guilt?” XR repeated. “No! No-ho-hooooo! Not one bit! True, they MIGHT have mentioned on separate occasions that because you got that sprain trying to protect me, that means I’m INDIRECTLY responsible for your injury, in the TECHNICAL sense, but there is no GUILT here. All sincerity, this wasn’t their idea anyway. It was mine.”

           “Why?” Rachel asked, dumbfounded.

           “Because, like I said,” he reminded her, “I owe you one. One VERY BIG one. And I’m paying you back right now. Now hang on juuuuuuust a minute – “

           He breezed around the room, throwing the blanket on top of Rachel and suddenly getting on the bed on her left side to tip her forward and settle the pillow and the absolutely enormous ice pack, and she barely had time to register how erratic her heartbeat became for that moment. Then he was back on the floor, and Rachel had to admit she was much more comfortable.

           “You don’t have to do this,” she told him. “I mean, yeah, you do owe me one, but I’m fine. I’m not gonna go stir-crazy. There are new eps of Despair Days, and – “

           XR shot a glance at the television. “Bulletproof Hearts?” he realized. “Now THERE’S a nostalgia trip. Are we gathering research for more fanfictions?”

           “Let it die.”

           “The files may be deleted, but the memories remain, Rach. Distinct memories of Vexyrian, Romyx, and oatmeal.”

           “I DON’T EVEN SHIP THEM ANYMORE!” Rachel cried, a bit too loudly.

           “What was this even about, anyway?” XR asked.

           “Despair Days?” Rachel answered. “It’s a spinoff, actually. It focuses on Spice Skomaru, who’s Red’s half-sister. See, Spice has the ability to predict the future, and that put a bunch of hitmen on her. So when Nort figured out about her powers, he captured her and put her in isolation on an ice planet filled with robots who seem to be brainwashed to try and kill her, but she escaped, and now she’s trying to make her way through the frozen wasteland with – “ She realized she’d been infodumping. “It’s basically the same kind of drama as the main series.”

           “That summary doesn’t actually help me,” XR replied. “See, when I asked, I meant what the WHOLE THING was about.”

           Rachel gave him an utterly dumbfounded look. “You…don’t know what Bulletproof Hearts is about.”

           “Not a clue.”

           “We went through that whole incident of you trying to turn my old fanfictions into erotic fiction, and YOU DIDN’T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE SHOW WAS ABOUT.”

           “I was aiming to make transformative work! Did I NEED to know what the show was about?”

           “Oh my God,” Rachel sighed. “Bulletproof Hearts is – it’s simultaneously the best and worst piece of fiction of our generation. It’s my LIFE. It’s my OBSESSION. And you DON’T KNOW WHAT IT’S ABOUT.”

           “Well, forgive me if the summaries of episodes of a television drama aren’t logged in Star Command’s database!”

           Another heavy sigh from Rachel before she launched into another infodump: “So Bulletproof Hearts is about these kids who go to an academy to train for fighting evil. Like our academy – well, the academy Buzz, Mira, and Booster went to – but the fantasy version for younger teens who have weirder weapons. They’re divided into four teams that do assignments together, but all sixteen are best friends. The problem is the evil Nort and his flunkies want to challenge the gods and bring the light of hope and the darkness of despair into a clash that will remake the world, so they have to travel around to different planets, get wrapped up in the adventures of the locals, and put together the pieces of how to stop Nort. The problem is that Nort’s right-hand general, Monokrome, tempts them on every planet with a reason to kill each other off, and every so often, she succeeds and one of the kids ends up killing another, and they all have to work together to figure out who the murderer is. The main character, Red Kazora, is seriously my favorite. Like, he’s perfect. He’s this geeky mechanic type who starts out with major trust issues but then kinda falls in platonic love with everybody and makes friends at first sight. His best friend, Snow Hajiku, is more of the deadpan snarky type who seems cold at first, but their dynamic is just SO perfect, and they’re SO in love. Though, actually, Red’s canon love interest is Victory Chiakairi, who has a really troubled past because she – well, that’s a spoiler. But the thing is, she came from – no, that’s also a spoiler. But the whole fan treatment of Victory is complicated because – fuck. Spoiler. Wait. Why am I dancing around spoilers? You are NEVER going to watch this fucking show.”

           “I wouldn’t say NEVER!” XR argued. “Now I want to know what my best-seller was going to be based on! Also, you made it sound kind of interesting just now.” He looked back to the television. “You’ve got it streaming?”

           “It’s all on demand,” Rachel confirmed. “What, you want to binge it with me?”

           Had she seriously just invited him to do that? In her defense, he had all but suggested it himself!

           “Well, we have a whole day together, don’t we?” XR reminded her. “Fire it up.”

           “XR, this show has a LOT of lore. It’s SUPER fucking complicated. There is a RUNNING FANDOM JOKE about how the plot is overcomplicated and doesn’t make sense to anyone except hardcore fans.”

           “Are you saying I can’t keep up with a TV show plot?”

           “That is exactly what I’m saying,” Rachel stated.

           “Well,” XR replied, “CHALLENGE ACCEPTED.”

           In one movement, he had hoisted himself onto the bed next to Rachel’s left side, and the ice pack was overclocking keeping her body temperature down from the proximity. He reclined back on the pillow on that side, hands tucked behind his helmet.

           “Okay,” Rachel said, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

           The problem about showing your special-interest fandom to the guy you liked, who really didn’t seem all that interested in fantasy fiction in the first place, was that if he didn’t end up liking it, you either had to doubt the integrity of your feelings for the fiction or your feelings for the guy. Both of which really deserved to be questioned, in her case, Rachel realized. This may very well have been the worst decision of her life.

           Second worst, come to think of it, after getting her shoulder sprained trying to save an immortal robot from getting smashed.

           If being attracted to XR was at all her decision, of course, that would be a solid first worst.

           Still, she cued up the pilot episode, tense in anticipation of XR’s reaction. “Oh, by the way,” she mentioned, “I’ve seen this, like, a hundred times, so if I start saying the lines out loud along with the characters, smack me on the back of the head.”

           “Duly noted. No takesies-backsies on that.”

           A click of the remote and they were off.

           Two hours in, there was a bowl on Rachel’s lap from which she casually ate popcorn while answering the early-season questions every Bulletproof Hearts rookie had:

           “So…Noir hates Snow because…”

           “Spoiler.”

           “Am I picking up that Amarillo is hiding something?”            “Yes.”

           “What’s Snow’s specialty again?”            “It was never said because you’re not supposed to know.”

           “I don’t trust Castella.”

           “WAIT FOR IT.”

           It occurred to Rachel eventually that XR was not only miraculously following the plot of Bulletproof Hearts, but getting invested in it. That was a load off. This wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

 ***

           “I’m starting to see what you mean about Red and Snow. Seriously, just KISS already.”

           “THANK YOU.”

           “Though Red and Victory aren’t bad either.”

           “Just so long as you don’t ship Red with Castella Komisa.”

           “People do that?”            “People do that. And it is the literal worst. Besides, Reynard is right there! Why WOULDN’T you put Castella with Reynard?”

           “Not seeing THAT chemistry.”

           “Right. That’s not until episode seven. Just hang in there.”

 ***

           “So THAT’S your boy toy.”

           “ROMYX IS NOT MY BOY TOY.”

           “You’re into mullets and eyeliner?”

           “No I’m – are you going to make fun of me and Romyx or are you going to watch how actually good of a villain Romyx is?”

           “I’m a robot. I’m built to multitask.”

***

           “Geez, they wasted no time killing off Romyx, did they?”

           “Yeah. He’s kind of an intro villain.”

           “Does he come back?”

           “No.”

           “That’s ALL HE DOES?”

           “Yes.”

           “Why do you like HIM so much? He barely did anything!”

           “BUT HE DID IT WITH SWAG. NOW SHUT UP.”

 ***

           “Well, well, THERE’S a familiar name. …Wait, are you telling me Romyx and Vexyrian never meet?”            “Not onscreen, but they both worked for Nort, so obviously – “

           “And you wrote such PASSIONATE romance between them.”

           “Is this Relive Rachel’s Most Embarrassing Hits hour? No. No it’s not.”

           “Now, you see, THIS guy, I can get into as a villain. THIS guy has the chops. And unlike Romyx, he’s actually gonna stick around.”

           “Uh…yeah.”

 ***

           “Rach.”

           “Yeah.”

           “All the villains you love die.”

           “I know.”

           “Everything you touch dies.”

           “Yes it does.”

           “I mean, I guess this is something Romyx and Vexyrian actually have in common: they both die WAY too quickly.”

           “AHA! SO NOW YOU ADMIT ROMYX WAS GONE TOO SOON!”

           “GONE TOO SOON TO ACTUALLY BE A CHARACTER!”

 ***

           The popcorn bowl was refilled.

 ***

           “Well, here’s news for you,” Rachel muttered under her breath along with the villain of the hour. “You’re crying over Noir dying, but she isn’t dead. Because you can’t kill anything that never existed – HEY!”

           She had received the lightest, most playful cuff on the back of the head from a metal hand.

           “You told me to do that,” XR told her as he faced the screen, deliberately avoiding her look of playful scorn. “And you agreed to no takesies-backsies.”

 ***

           “Sooooo…is now the wrong time to tell you that I actually do think Red is best off with Castella?”

           “THAT’S IT. OUT. OUT OF MY APARTMENT NOW. RIGHT NOW. LEAVE THE ICE PACK.”

 ***

           Sniffle. “Rach…when you tell this story later…you don’t tell anyone I cried over Victory.”

           “Secret’s safe with me. I cried the first time I saw it, too.”

           “She was – she had so much potential! She was so innocent!”

           “I know. And it was just the most BULLSHIT death, too.”

           “What kind of a HEARTLESS MONSTER is writing this stuff?”

           “I might actually invite you onto my BH forum after this.”

           “…You’re on a forum?”

           “…Maybe.”            “Do you still write – “

           “NO! Also, you’re disinvited from the forum.”

           “Well, THAT’S telling. Looks like I have another pen name to go looking for.”

           “NO YOU DO NOT.”

 ***

           “…WHAT?”

           “Yes. YEEEEEES.”

           “You’re telling me…this whole time…Braigel was…”

           “YES! HE WAS! OH MY GOD, I HAVE NEVER ACTUALLY SEEN ANYONE GET BLINDSIDED BY THAT REVEAL IN REAL LIFE! DO YOU KNOW HOW SATISFYING THIS IS?”

           “This…explains a few things and yet raises SO many more questions than it answers.”

           “WELCOME TO BULLETPROOF HEARTS.”

 ***

           “I never said thank you, did I?”

           Rachel didn’t realize, at first, that this wasn’t a comment on the show. “I’M not the one who froze Ashe to death.”

           “Not convinced she’s dead, but that’s not what I meant.”

           “How could she have survived that?” Rachel said in an attempt to disguise the very obvious plot twist being set up. “And what ARE you talking about?”

           “Just this whole business saving me from getting crushed by the crystal creep.”

           Rachel froze, not having expected that to come back up. She took a chance to glance over at XR, and sure enough, he was looking at her, not the screen, and her eyes met his softly-glowing yellow lights. She wasn’t sure how to respond at first, but honesty got the better of her: “I just don’t like seeing you get hurt.”

           “And let me tell you, does it SMART,” XR confirmed. “Sure, all it takes is a few screws tightened back in place, but it is a MAJOR inconvenience. Admittedly less of an inconvenience than a Grade II shoulder sprain. Which brings me back to my point: I never said thank you.”

           She could’ve passed off some kind of reassurance and pretended it didn’t matter, or that she hadn’t noticed. But despite him having said he owed her, and owning up in a roundabout way to the fact that her injury was related to him, he hadn’t once said the specific words “thank you.” He knew that. She knew that. He knew she knew that, she knew he knew she knew that, and ad infinitum. “No,” she said. “You didn’t.”

           “Well, I’m saying it now, and you can put this on the record,” XR told her. “Thank you.”

           She almost said “you’re welcome” out of habit, but that would imply that he didn’t actually owe her anything for the save, and if he thought he didn’t owe her anything for the save, they wouldn’t be having as much fun as they were right now. What she ended up with was “Don’t make me do it again, dumbass.”

           “If Buzz didn’t always assign me the life-threatening half of the job or insist on using me as bait, maybe I wouldn’t HAVE to.”

           “Like I keep trying to argue him not to have you do?” She immediately regretted saying that; eventually he would have to figure out that she attempted to look out for him far more than anyone else on the team, and what exactly that meant.

           Yet it seemed to have sailed right over XR’s head. “Next time,” he insisted, “I get the cushy job distracting the villain. HE can shut off the volatile circuit.”

           “He does actually care, you know,” Rachel said quickly, worrying this would get out of hand; she didn’t want to breed a schism in the team by accident. “He just has to make tough decisions. Being team leader does that. I know I couldn’t handle it.”

           “Funny: I KNOW I could handle it. Buuuuuuut I’m not going to gun for the title out of respect.” Which Rachel knew was code for a heavy trust in Buzz’s decision-making and a value of him as a friend.

           “The day you become team leader,” Rachel said with a smirk, “is the day I quit.”

           “The day you quit,” XR replied, “is the day I get your seat on 42. I’ve always wanted the window view.”

           “If you’re at the window, who’s going to run analytics?”

           “Like we NEED analytics. Whatever happened to winging it? Improvising? Making it up as we go?”

           “You’re forgetting one crucial thing, XR.”

           “What? Are you going to try and tell me my analytical skills are irreplaceable and we’d be nowhere without me working in that corner?”

           Yes, Rachel thought. That is true. And I’m incredibly jealous of and impressed by how you’re able to crunch the numbers you do. “No,” she replied mischievously. “In this situation, I quit because you’re the captain, so why are you sitting in MY seat when Buzz’s is yours by default?”

           “Wh – that wasn’t – “

           “Don’t answer: it’s because you’re a dumbass.”

           “Oh, you think you’re so smart,” XR huffed.

           “I don’t think I’m smart,” Rachel replied. “I KNOW I’m smart.”

           “Yeah, well,” XR replied, swiveling his head back to the television, “I’ve got news for you, sister – WHEN DID POSEIDON GET POSSESSED?”

           “Shit,” Rachel hissed. “We’re gonna have to rewind a few scenes.”

           Spitting vitriol at each other felt strangely comfortable. The insults, insincere at this point. All Rachel had really heard was “I never said thank you.” And all XR had really heard was “I just don’t like seeing you get hurt.”

 ***

           It wasn’t until Rachel started waking up that she realized she’d fallen asleep. When had that happened? Without opening her eyes, she took stock of what had happened, trying to recall exactly when she’d wrapped up last night’s binge and kicked out her irritating if charming houseguest.

           Observations: there was a constant stream of noise in the background – the sound of people talking. That was odd. Rachel’s position: propped up rather than laying down, though not as uncomfortable as one would expect, given that her back was against a very soft surface – several pillows, presumably. She’d slumped to the left a stitch, and was leaning on something quite solid.

           That was when it hit. She hadn’t wrapped up the Bulletproof Hearts binge. She’d fallen asleep watching it. That was the noise: an episode still playing. Nor had she sent XR packing. He was still there, and she’d fallen asleep leaning against him.

           Like the crack of a whip, adrenaline surged through Rachel’s body. Her eyes snapped open; she let out an instinct-driven, blood-curdling scream.

           XR had apparently entered sleep mode around the same time she’d dozed off; the sound of the scream jolted his AI out of idling and brought him to consciousness. And when he realized, first of all, that he was being screamed at, and second of all, where he was, his immediate reaction was to let off an almost equally blood-curdling scream.

           The symbiotic scream feedback continued for about a minute before both parties involved finally fell silent, staring at each other in panic.

           Rachel scrambled for the words that were appropriate for this situation. True, it was completely chaste and innocent, but she’d just spent an entire night (how many hours? When, in fact, had she lost consciousness? Now the memories were becoming clearer; they’d both gone way past midnight, their commentary on the show getting increasingly more boisterous until they’d started getting tired) sleeping in the same bed as the man she had a hopeless and ridiculous crush on, and if there was a single part of her epidermis that wasn’t bright pink with a blush right now, she’d have been very surprised. The ice pack was finally spent, so that didn’t help. Her heart seemed about ready to beat itself to death and pop right out through her sternum, thundering in her veins.

           As usual, however, XR had words where others would be speechless. “All right, all right,” he said in a tone that might have sounded breathless if he actually needed to breathe, “just calm down. Yes, apparently we fell asleep like that. But what matters here is that neither of us did, said, or meant anything that would make this at all what it looks like from the outside.” And he was adamant about that.

           Did? Of course not. Said? Nope. Meant? Depended on your definition and whether or not you were referring to something sexual or something simply stirring to the heart. Rachel shoved that aside. “And…nobody saw,” she added. “We’re alone. It’s fine. It’s fine! This isn’t weird!” Her voice cracked, slipping into falsetto. “IT’S NOT WEIRD!” Trying to drown out that accursed heartbeat.

           “No,” XR told her, now perfectly calm and cocky as per usual. “It is most certainly NOT, so you can dial it down a notch.”

           She paused. Bit her lip. Said the next words in a low, semi-chilled tone: “You’re the worst pillow in existence.”

           “Well, if I’d have known I was going to have an organic try and use me as one, I MIGHT have been generous enough to activate an airbag.”

           “I did not TRY – “ Rachel grit her teeth. “Did I go out first or did you?”

           “I don’t remember!” XR protested. “All I know is we ran out of commentary, I’m reading an episode title card, next thing you know, I’m off to dreamland with the electric sheep.”

           Rachel leaned her head back against the wall. “This never happened.”

           “The only thing anyone needs to think I fell asleep on is that mountain of paperwork that’s still sitting on my desk.”

           Rachel flinched. “There’s actual paperwork you’re behind on, isn’t there?”

           “Well, gee, I happen to be DOWN ONE COPY EDITOR, so yes, there is.”

           “I forgot you’d actually have to try and write at at least a third-grade reading level for two weeks.”

           “Excuse you; I’m up to a fourth-grade level at LEAST.”

           Arguing pettily put them back on their usual level. The awkwardness was subsiding, at least on Rachel’s part. On XR’s? She couldn’t read him. He didn’t seem fazed, but was that really a surprise? The bigger surprise was that he hadn’t tried to make some kind of lewd comment out of this. That, once again, brought Rachel to the eternal conundrum of being glad he didn’t obviously ogle her and yet frustrated that she was the only woman he didn’t.

           She glanced over to the clock. “You have to get moving, don’t you?”

           “Well, not for another hour and a half,” he admitted. “If you wanted to yell at one more episode for a palate cleanser. I’m just saying.”

           A cleansed palate was exactly what Rachel needed right now. “I’m down,” she stated. “Where’d you leave off?”

           “Where’d YOU leave off?”            “It literally does not matter,” she reminded him. “I’ve seen this show a hundred times, remember?” She took the remote in hand, barely able to hold it steady with the shaking. How had it gotten this bad again? Less than twenty-four hours ago, they were just lounging with each other on the bed like normal friends, and Rachel had felt less jittery and far more comfortable with XR than she could’ve hoped for at this point. Now that had just been erased like a chalkboard swiped with a soaking sponge. She managed to pause the running television: no mean feat.

           “The last thing I saw was the title card for Funhouse of Horrors,” XR related.

           So she’d gone out first, Rachel realized, but only by a few minutes. Maybe fifteen. Then the topic she should’ve been concerned with immediately sprang to her lips: “Wait. Funhouse of Horrors? THAT episode? Oh, that is NOT an episode you just watch and LEAVE.”

           “I feel like you’re implying I can’t handle it.”

           “IT’S A TERRIBLE CLIFFHANGER.”

           “Please. I eat cliffhangers for breakfast.”

           “That…literally makes no sense, XR.” She flicked through the menu. “But it’s your funeral.”

 ***

           The ending of the episode, as Rachel had predicted, left XR staring slack-jawed (or the equivalent when one’s jaw was hinged) at the screen. She stopped the credits roll, letting him gape in silence for a moment as her smirk grew ever smugger.

           At last, he managed, “Okay. Who did it?”            “Spoilers,” Rachel said mischievously.

           “I mean it,” XR urged. “Who killed Oregano?”

           “SPOI…LERS.”

           “Now you and I both know this is the time when I have to take my leave, as much as I know you’ll miss me.” (You have no idea, Rachel thought.) “Just give me the name of the murderer and I’ll be on my merry way.”

           “I’m not telling you,” Rachel replied. “If you wanna know, you’re gonna have to watch it yourself. You’re IN now, so I’m not going to ruin it.”

           “Okaaaay, new angle. Obviously, you’re not going to tell me who KILLED Oregano, so at least tell me how he DIED.”

           “Nnnnope,” Rachel held out.

           “Come on, you can at least confirm if it was the same person who unleashed the genetically modified ghost army.”

           “No I can’t.” Rachel was enjoying this far too much.

           “Look,” XR practically snapped, “you and I both know that without Oregano’s expertise, none of the rest of them are going to be able to get through that casino-themed torture chamber. Not to mention while they’re all starving to death. And even if they do, Ashe is waiting on the other side with Larxeo, which I have to admit was a REALLY poetic touch, giving her Romyx’s leather jacket like that, REALLY made you feel for the villains for once, but if you’re GOING to leave me on that note, at least tell me WHO…KILLED…OREGANO.”

           Rachel made a motion of zipping her mouth shut and locking it with a padlock.

           “You’re heartless,” XR accused.

           Rachel nodded in affirmation.

           “I’m going to be thinking about this all day,” XR continued as he shifted off the bed, treads hitting the floor. “And if this throws me off my game, it’s gonna be your fault.”

           She dealt him the most wicked grin she could muster.

           “Well, I’m on patrol,” he relented. “What are you gonna do?”

           “Probably catch up on those last two eps of Despair Days,” Rachel answered, “then slip back into a coma for another twelve hours. …A NON-NARCOTIC-INDUCED COMA.”

           “Well, good luck with that,” XR told her. “My work here is done.”

           All she could say at first was “Um, yeah.”

           “And with that,” XR declared jovially, “your doting caretaker bids you adieu.” A playful bow.

           “Wait,” Rachel said before he could leave.

           “Yeeees?”

           This was one of those times when it was hard to drop the banter and just be honest with him. Yet it was crucial. “Thanks for visiting. I had a lot of fun.”

           “The pleasure was mine,” XR replied with a wink. “You know, we should really hang out more often.”

           “For the record, you don’t actually drive me insane to talk to.”

           “I knew that, Rach. And, full disclosure, you’re a real pal, got that?”

           That was almost more meaningful than an I-love-you. “I got it. Now get out of here before I come to my senses and stop being honest.”

           “Consider me gone.”

           And then he was. She heard the apartment door open, then click shut, and Rachel was alone, half wondering if she’d hallucinated the past day.

           Letting herself smile because he really did like her, after all, even if it wasn’t exactly the way she could’ve asked for, and they had just spent hours upon hours together, she went back to the final two episodes she’d been meaning to watch from the beginning.

           The cutoff point ended with exactly as many dangling plot threads as the rest of the show, and that gave Rachel’s mind plenty to grind on as she settled back down into the bed, ready to fall asleep in a more comfortable position and kill as much time as she could that way, now that she had no one to talk to.

           A familiar scent twitched at her nostrils, and it suddenly occurred to her that she hadn’t drawn the conclusion of its presence two hours ago. It very faintly smelled like the pillow next to her was smoldering. Of course. XR had been laying on it for hours; his burned-marshmallow scent had transferred right over to it.

           Rachel’s left hand grabbed at the pillow, drawing it up to her face. Up close, it definitely smelled like it had a lit match dropped onto it at some point, though the fabric was undamaged, yet again suggesting, bafflingly, that the scent was not the sign of some malfunction. Now Rachel had two choices. She could go full tsuntsun and chuck that pillow to the far end of the room, to be forgotten about until laundry day. Or she could fall asleep hugging it like some kind of perverted stalker. (A taste of his own medicine, hm?) Just putting it back in place was not an option.

           Throw it, she told herself. Increase the denial.

           What won was the argument was that it wasn’t that creepy, really, not when she didn’t have actual predatory intentions – just to have a sensory input that reminded her of someone she liked being around.

           Sleep took her over as she cradled that pillow close, breathing in what could have been the odor of the aftermath of an arson scene.

 ***

           Rachel was awoken by the sound of the doorbell. After the first ring, she waited a moment to see if another barrage of ringing would follow.

           Instead, when she didn’t answer, it was a sharp knocking that came at the door. A slight disappointment.

           She crept out of bed, calling out tentatively, once more, “WHO IS IT?”. What time was it, anyway? A glance at the clock told her it was ten at night.

           “DELIVERY FOR RACHEL SPARKS!” That actually was the voice of the regular deliveryman. All hope was doused. Then again, receiving a package was a pretty rare event. Rachel couldn’t imagine what the delivery was. As covert as she’d tried to make her antidepressant acquisition, she hadn’t scheduled anything for this time.

           Prying open the door, she saw the deliveryman smiling his biggest at her; did this guy seriously mean it every time he smiled like that, or was it a façade to hide an ennui with his job? She hoped it was the former. “What’s up?” she asked.

           “Rachel!” the deliveryman greeted. “Special delivery just for you! It was just sent out this evening!” He extended a clipboard.

           “I, uh…” Rachel gave him a sheepish look. “Can’t really use my right hand right now. Can we just do the retinal scan and call it good?”

           “Sure thing!” He acquiesced; a mild laser made Rachel’s eye twitch but confirmed her identity enough for the package to be handed over. It was stuffed into a bubble-wrap-lined manila envelope, barely small enough to be contained by its manila skin. Rachel had a strong guess that it was a tape based on that. Goodness knew she’d tried to mail tapes that way before. Who hadn’t?

           She told the deliveryman thank you, and he gave her a jovial “Haaaave a nice day!” before gallivanting off into the night, hopefully not to stay out too late making other deliveries.

           Rachel shut and locked the door, bringing the envelope back to the bed to open it up as best she could with one hand (which turned out to be a bit of an ordeal; her teeth got involved). As she’d thought, it was a tape: unlabeled. That could mean anything from an anonymous death threat to a video will informing her she’d inherited two million unibucks from a great-uncle she’d never heard of.

           She inserted it into the player, tuning the television to the proper reception signal and clicking the tape into play.

           It began with a countdown of a “3…2…” on a spinning gray circle that had obviously been added in post-production. The next thing Rachel knew, she was looking at a view of Buzz Lightyear, Mira Nova, and Booster Munchapper on a desert plain, all three of them smiling in her direction.

           “AAAAAAND WE ARE ROLLING!” XR’s voice declared; Rachel realized he was the one filming, probably right through his eyes. “Spotlight’s on you, people! Let’s hear it with FEELING!”

           “Hi, Rachel!” Mira began, waving.

           “How’re ya doing?” Booster asked before realizing, “Wait…you can’t answer. Sorry.”

           “It’s just not the same without you, ranger,” Buzz added. “But thanks to XR here, today, you get to sit back, relax, and keep healing while we do the dirty work.”

           “And you get a front-row seat to all the action!” Booster agreed. “And boy, is this a big one today.”

           “Way, WAY bigger than Tanker Alley,” Mira added. “Sorry you have to miss it, but, then again, this also means you don’t have to have your life threatened today, so…silver lining?”

           “It’s life-threatening indeed,” Buzz stated somberly. “We’re on a mission to stop Zurg from engineering a duplicate of the Motzrothian senator and using his guise to order lax labor laws – “

           “Come on!” XR urged. “Can’t you make this all a little more DRAMATIC? The EVIL EMPEROR ZURG has accessed superior cyborg cloning technology that, in the wrong hands, could bring the entire galaxy to ruination, AND IT HAPPENS TO BE IN THE WRONG HANDS! Only the bravest team in all of Star Command has any hope whatsoever of stopping him! And the key to Zurg’s destruction lies with one man in particular: the bravest, most intelligent, and most ATTRACTIVE robot to ever cross his path – “

           “Okay, we’re stopping there,” Mira interrupted.

           That was when a hover platform bearing Zurg floated down from the sky behind the team, and the evil emperor himself pointed accusingly: “LIGHTYEAR! So you and your team of has-beens decided to show up after all! It’s about time! I was expecting you thirty minutes ago! Does punctuality mean NOTHING to you hero types? Oh, well, no matter. There’s still PLENTY of time for you to hear about how I’ve factored your demise into my newest fiendish plan!”

           “Yeah, why don’t you tell us what you’re planning to do?” Mira asked innocently.

           “Gladly,” Zurg told her. “For, you see, I want you to have a chance to DREAD the excruciating pain I have in store for you.”

           In a low whisper that Rachel knew only she could hear, XR narrated, “A classic gambit. Our heroes trick the overly egotistical villain into bragging about exactly what he plans to do to them…” He’d begun rolling, moving gingerly away from Zurg. “…giving their secret weapon, i.e. me, a chance to find the evil device he’s planted on this planet, disable it before he notices, and then – “

           “OH, NO, YOU ABSOLUTELY DON’T!” Zurg suddenly bellowed mid-monologue. The camera whirled; Zurg was pointing directly at XR. “You think you can get your ROBOT to slip away while I’m instilling dread!” Suddenly he’d zoomed right up before XR, filling the screen. “Just for that, I’m upgrading your torture to the DELUXE package. Intense pain, simultaneous psychological torment, and I get a smoothie. You’ll WISH you were going through your friends’ basic torture package.”

           “Speaking of my friends,” XR said cockily, leaving it at that.

           “Wait – “ Zurg spun a 180, and XR peeked around him to capture on film that while Zurg was distracted threatening XR, the other three had scattered. “WHHHHHAT?”

           “Man, is this guy a moron,” XR commented.

           “WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?” Zurg screamed, turning back to XR.

           “To put it in context,” XR explained, “I’m filming this for a friend, hence the narration.”

           “Wait a minute,” Zurg realized. “Is it the blonde ranger? The one whose name I can never remember? Because I NOTICED she wasn’t here today, but I wasn’t about to SAY anything. I was rather hoping she’d perished when I wasn’t looking, though. But maybe it’s better this way. I mean, now I do get the pleasure of killing her myself. Eventually. Whenever she shows – NO. ENOUGH STALLING!”

           He knocked XR into the sand before taking off to pursue the others.

           Rachel watched the entire mission play out, from Zurg thinking he had the upper hand to his eventual foiling and his rocketing away, crying, “CURSE YOU, BUZZ LIGHTYEEEEAAAR!”. Rachel did in fact wish she were there to live out the magic herself, but really, this was the next best thing.

           “All right, team,” Buzz directed, looking to the wreckage of Zurg’s cyborg cloning device (which admittedly did make Rachel curious as to how exactly it worked). “Time to get this evidence wrapped up and confiscated before some other miscreant comes along and – “

           “Oh, you think you’re gonna pack this all up and ship it off, do ya?” a deep voice broke in. XR’s camera swiveled immediately to observe a familiar figure holding up the device’s energy core in one hand and hovering the other over his chest plate. “I got a better idea. I sell this back to Zurg for the big bucks, and whichever ones of ya I don’t finish off here, he gets to later.”

           “TORQUE!” Buzz, Mira, and Booster chorused.

           “Now, how’s THAT for a plot twist?” XR cried triumphantly.

           Team Lightyear was soon engaged in a battle against the Torque Armada, which was at least seven strong – Rachel kept losing track of exactly how many duplicates were on the field. At one point, one of the Torques was advancing upon XR, declaring, “Now, you, baby, you’re some high-tech stuff. I could use your components.”

           “Hold on,” XR replied, which halted Torque in his tracks. “Could you say that again, but a little louder, with more clarity? And try to sound a little more threatening. You’re the villain here, after all.”

           “Huh?” Torque regarded XR with confusion. “Hey, wait…you filmin’ this?”

           “You may have noticed we’re one short today,” XR informed him. “I’m sending this back to her so she can be here without being here, if you catch my drift.”

           “Oh, this is for Blondie, ain’t it?” Torque realized. “We-he-hell…” He drew himself upright, puffed out his chest, and stood at an angle. “Be sure to get my good side.”

           “Any well-wishes for our out-of-commission teammate?” XR asked.

           “Yeah, I got one,” Torque affirmed. “Hey you, Blondie, you keep on keepin’ on, ya hear? Even when the chips are down and it seems hopeless, ya gotta keep fightin’ the good fight. For instance, you’re probably gonna feel real down after I STRIP YOUR LITTLE ROBOT CAMERAMAN FOR PARTS.”

           That prompted XR to whirl about and head in the opposite direction as quickly as he could, crying out, “THAAAAAT’S ENOUGH OF TORQUE’S CLOSE-UP!”

           Rachel couldn’t help but giggle. After all, she knew he (and the entire team, for that matter) had come out of this okay, or the tape wouldn’t have gotten edited and sent back to her.

           After Torque was subdued, the camera suddenly cut to a view from atop a high plateau; down below, in the desert, four figures were battling. Rachel recognized them as Buzz, Mira, Booster, and someone she really should’ve expected at this point.

           “So, it turns out that our viewing audience was one hundred percent correct,” XR narrated. “Zurg, Torque, and NOS-4-A2 did in fact all strike on the same day. Now, since NOSy is a particularly tough enemy with a sordid history with Star Command, I thought the epic showdown was best filmed from more of a wide angle bordering on bird’s-eye. After all, I don’t want to get cl – YOU don’t want to miss a second of this action! As usual, of course, our heroes are getting the upper hand, and – where’d he go? No, seriously, where is he?”

           NOS-4-A2 had disappeared from the battlefield, and Rachel could see that Buzz, Mira, and Booster were all exchanging shrugs and searching for him in a panic.

           All of a sudden, NOS-4-A2’s face filled the camera, a sly grin plastered across his face. “Playing a little game of hide-and-seek, are we, little one? Hm?” he chuckled. “I do so enjoy the thrill of the chase.”

           The last thing Rachel heard before the visuals cut out was XR yelping “OKAYYOUFOUNDMEYOUWONNOWLEAVEMEALONE – “

           The immediate next scene was of NOS-4-A2, powered down and clamped into iron bands that bound his limbs and prevented him from spreading his wings. “I never doubted for a minute we’d get him,” XR proclaimed. “Of course, it was my idea to play the sitting duck and draw him in so the others could make their move. YOU’RE WELCOME!”

           “I thought it was us who saved you,” Booster said in legitimate confusion. “You were REALLY scared – “

           “WAS NOT,” XR argued.

           Mira chuckled. “I think we’ll leave Rachel to make that call. She probably knows EXACTLY what happened on that subject.”

           Rachel did know exactly what had happened. He was a fraidy-cat moron. He was her personal favorite fraidy-cat moron.

           One more shot of the team grouped up, smiling and waving. “Sorry again you had to miss that, Rachel!” Booster cried.

           “I hope you’re feeling better!” Mira added. “And I hope you had fun watching XR get chased around by all the bad guys!”

           “That is an INCREDIBLE oversimplification of what happened,” XR argued.

           “Lookin’ forward to when you can join us on the adventure again,” Buzz concluded. “Now you get some rest, Rachel.”

           “And so concludes another epic episode of The Adventures of Team Ligh – no, wait,” XR mused, “there has to be a better title for this. Star Command’s Ranger Lightyear? Buzz Lightyear and the Rangers. No, wait, BUZZ LIGHTYEAR OF ST – actually, scrap that: THE ADVENTURES OF XR, ROBOT RANGER.”

           The giggle that came out of Rachel’s throat was riding on a snort.

           “Aaaaand SCENE!” With that final declaration, the tape ended.

           Rachel made a childishly high squeal. He’d really thought to tape the mission for her so she wouldn’t miss out. She could hardly have been happier at that point.

           Way past midnight, again. Time to get back to sleep. Cuddling that burned-marshmallow-smell pillow even tighter; who was around to judge?

 ***

           The doorbell rang.

           Rachel had lost all sense of time. There was sleep, there was the state of waking, and there was the doorbell to facilitate the transition from one to the other.

           The doorbell again. And again. And again –

           Perhaps she was a little too eager to leap out of bed. Her shoulder twinged, reminding her that she had to take it slow. Without even asking who was there, she opened the door.

           XR sped right past her once again, parking in the midst of the living room and swiveling to face her. “How’s the patient?” he asked, his seemingly chipper smile betraying a hint of hidden frustration. “Feeling better? Resting up? Getting her strength back? On the mend? WHO KILLED OREGANO?”

           “So THAT’S what this is about,” Rachel laughed. “And you did SUCH a good job of not letting it show that cliffhanger was bothering you in the tape.”

           “There’s a time for business and a time to resolve cliffhangers,” XR explained. “So are we going to or not?”

           “I am SO looking forward to seeing your face when you see this revelation,” Rachel said with a grin.

           “Ten minutes for popcorn and I’m there,” XR told her. Rachel was at first flattered again that he was concerned with supplying her with food until she remembered that he continually, bafflingly forgot that he couldn’t eat food. It always was rather humorous to watch him try.

           They settled on the bed in their previous configuration. Rachel had discreetly put the pillow back where it had been, feeling almost sneaky in hiding how she’d cradled it in her good arm for the past two nights. XR had at least had the presence of mind to tote a second ice pack – or, perhaps, at this stage, it was a little more than “at least.” Rachel shoveled a fistful of the popcorn that XR was seconds away from remembering the hard way that he couldn’t eat into her own mouth, clicking the next episode of Bulletproof Hearts into play.

           When the mystery was solved (“AN ELEVATOR? Also, I was SURE Castella was behind this one!”) and the action had died down a bit, Rachel asked, “What was your excuse this time?”

           “Well, without you to manage the spreadsheets,” XR explained, “we have a huge backlog of spreadsheets that need to be organized. Which I took it upon myself to do. And that’s what you’re going to tell Nebula if he calls and asks where I am.”

           Why would he call here to ask where you are? Rachel wondered. It’s not like anyone outside the team would draw a connection between me and you. Then, suddenly stricken with dread: “XR, these are fake spreadsheets you made up to get a day off, right? They don’t actually exist, right? WE DON’T ACTUALLY HAVE A BACKLOG OF SPREADSHEETS I’M GONNA NEED TO DO WHEN I GET BACK ON DUTY, RIGHT?”

           XR was dead silent, staring ahead at the screen.

           “XR. DO…THESE…SPREADSHEETS…EXIST?”

           His head swiveled to face her, his eyes appearing half-lidded with emerald light (really, Rachel couldn’t be the only person in the world who noticed how many colors his eye-lights could be, could she?), and he said in the least reassuring tone possible, “SPOILERS.”

 ***

           For the next two weeks, some days, he was there, and it was a neverending stream of snark at the television. Bulletproof Hearts was finished –

           “Am I supposed to feel satisfied or disappointed about that finale? Because both of those are gunning for it.”

           “I dunno what the crew intended, but that’s EVERY fan’s reaction.”

           Despair Days knocked out –

           “So does Spice ever, you know, join the actual main plot?”

           “Not yet. But there ARE rumors of an official next season of BH in production. Nothing confirmed, of course, but – “

           “And you just HAD to get me to the point where that would actually affect me, didn’t you?”

           And after that, just whatever they could find that either was relatively interested in watching, or, more appropriately, interested in yelling and/or laughing at in between synchronized slurps of diet orange soda and 0W SAE J300.

           Some days, he wasn’t there, but at the end of the day, there was always, always a tape chronicling whatever expedition Rachel had missed that day, complete with requests of well-wishes from whoever XR crossed paths with. So far, he’d managed to accumulate:

·      A sullen “Don’t die” from Dr. Furbanna.

·      A tirade from Eon about how fragile primitive lifeforms were, and how he couldn’t imagine living in a body where stressing out a single shoulder could put you out for more than an hour.

·      A “Gargantia wishes its hero well!” from Ambassador Major.

·      A “GARGANTIA SPITS ON YOUR NAME!” from Monumentus.

·      A gruff “You better be staying in bed, ranger. Oh, and get well soon.” from Commander Nebula, with a chorus of chirps from the LGMs in the background.

·      An “Isn’t that the blonde one? Okay, yeah, feel better!” from Petra.

·      A “GOOD. I mean, oh, yes, of course, I have no reason to NOT want you pursuing me!” from Rentwhistle Swack.

·      An “XL is destroying everything, and you want me to say WHAT?” from Savy SL-4.

·      An “I’m trying to destroy everything, and you want me to say WHAT?” from XL.

·      An “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” from Warp Darkmatter while Evan Aries discreetly made a heart shape with his hands in the background, aiming it at Rachel with a sheepish expression.

           The more the days progressed, Rachel thought, she really ought to lighten up on calling XR a dumbass. He’d more than made up for being the reason for her sprain in the first place. This while chastely cuddling her pillow that now smelled like it had been tossed on a barbecue grill.

 ***

           Finally, she regained the mobility in her shoulder, with only a light tenderness to remind her of the damage, and that would fade soon. Medical cleared her for duty, and she reunited with the rest of Team Lightyear in the mess hall.

           “Good to have you back, Rachel!” Buzz just about gave her a hearty clap on the right shoulder – then remembered and repositioned himself to deal the affectionate blow to her left instead. “It just isn’t the same without all five of us on the team. It’ll be good to have XR back, too.” He shot a glance toward XR. “Not that I don’t approve of you taking time off to spend with Rachel, since…you know…”

           “It WAS his fault she got hurt,” Mira said coldly.

           “Hey now!” XR protested. “We talked about this!”

           “I was going to say because he’s a good friend,” Buzz finished. “And that’s what good friends do. Not that we’re not ALL good friends, but we couldn’t have taken the entire team off the field, and XR was the one who volunteered – “

           “I getcha,” Rachel said with a nod. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna hold up your analyst anymore. Provided he doesn’t sprain anything else on me.”

           “I make no promises,” XR replied, “but I will try my DARNEDEST. Yes, I said DARNEDEST, so you know I’m serious.”

           “How’d chilling out without us go, by the way?” Mira asked, and Rachel could see the question she was really asking written on her face.

           “Yeah!” Booster echoed, obviously picking up the same thread. “Did anything SPECIAL happen while you two were hanging out?”

           As Rachel, positioned behind XR, frantically made “please no” gestures at the gossipy pair, slicing her hands through the air, XR replied, “As a matter of fact, yes.”

           Even Rachel froze, wondering what he was referring to and hoping against hope -            “Rachel ruined my life by getting me addicted to her stupid show and now I can’t actually not care about what’s going to happen next season.”

           Rachel’s heart restarted beating.

           XR swiveled to look up to her; “You’re SURE we don’t have an airdate on that, by the way?”

           “Not until they finish Despair Days,” Rachel asserted.

           “Yes,” XR snarked, “because we need to focus on this side plot that has NOTHING to do with the remnants of Nort’s plan, has NO connection to Ashe and Braigel picking up the pieces with the relics, and won’t even ADDRESS the fact that Spice and Red are related and whether that means Spice has the golden eyes. I HATE that you made me actually know what I’m talking about.”

           “BUT…IF SPICE AND VERTHANDI BECOME CANON …”

           “Then a thousand fanfictions will be written,” XR said with a smirk, “and it will be that much easier to find your new pen name.”

           God forbid. That would lead him to GEAvillain and a whole can of worms that needed to stay shut. “You’ll never find me,” she said cheekily, covering up the panic associated with the hypothetical that he might, in fact, figure out the identity of JCMotzroth. Changing the subject by force, she looked Buzz in the eye. “Sooooo. How are things with Bonnie?”

           “We, uh…” Buzz rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “We kinda…sorta…didn’t work out.”

           “Oh,” Rachel replied. She’d seen that one coming a mile off, but that didn’t lessen the pain for him, and she knew it. “I’m sorry.”

           “No, no,” Buzz explained, “I was the one who called it off. There was just no spark there. Pun not intended. Anyway, you were right. I shouldn’t have said yes. Only reason I did was because I didn’t wanna let her down, but it just…well, it didn’t feel right after our history! I should’ve just listened to you – “

           Rachel’s stomach began to stir. Being right wasn’t the victory she’d hoped it would be. First of all, it still couldn’t have been easy on Buzz to figure out the relationship was going nowhere. Second, she’d almost put stock in him and Bonnie changing her mind. If Bonnie could turn Buzz’s interest her way, certainly that meant there wasn’t any harm in Rachel putting the subject on the table regarding a certain someone else.

           A certain someone else who chose that moment to say “And WHEN are you going to learn that Rachel and I are always, always, ALWAYS right?”

           That broke the spell. “HEY!” Rachel yelled down at XR. “You weren’t with me on that one at ALL!”

           “Yes, I was,” XR argued. “I definitely didn’t want those two to date. I believe I made that PERFECTLY clear.”

           “Yeah, because you wanted Bonnie for YOURSELF,” Rachel argued. “Not because you thought she was making Buzz uncomfortable!”

           “I knew she was making him uncomfortable, which is why I so GRACIOUSLY stepped in to divert her attention – “

           “Bull SHIT.”

           “It’s all back to normal around here, all right,” Mira said teasingly.

           Heading out of the mess hall, XR told Rachel, “You know, now that you’ve made a diehard Bulletproof Hearts addict out of me, I have to pay you back.”

           “What do YOU have that you could POSSIBLY get me into?” Rachel asked.

           “I bet I could make a gambler out of you,” XR teased, knowing full well that had a snowball’s chance in the sun’s core of happening.

           “Yeah, no,” Rachel told him. “Keep dreaming.”

           “Wanna bet? Ten unibucks says you get into it.”

           “I’ll take tha – OHHHH. I SEE WHAT YOU ARE TRYING TO DO. AND IT IS NOT GOING TO WORK. NO BET.”

           They glared at each other, as was customary, before their expressions softened, allowing each other a smile.

           Far be it from Rachel to sacrifice a good friendship over feelings she had no business even having. All the same, it felt sour within to know that she could never tell him. She wasn’t about to become his Bonnie Lepton. And she wasn’t about to be his mistake.

[be-dazzled]

#TheVampireTales #TVT

Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser FF net: click here Author: K.T. Adlam (xxbedazzledxx) Genre: Supernatural, Romance, Drama

Do you know where your heart is? Do you think you can find it?

It was definitely too early.

The waking light bled through the indigo sky. Its warm colors dispersed throughout the far reaching canvass. The rays colored the dark-washed abode with glowing warmth, from its elaborate foot to the grandeur roofing; revealing the old-world charm of the Manor mansion. Just like the Hegen, the royal manor managed to retain the classic architectural elegance of the Ancient World.

 The Manor stood the test of time; survived generations of humans and vampires alike. The original eclectic and asymmetrical style, reminiscent of the architectures in the pre-vampire period, has managed to survive various restorations. The original owners could not anymore meet the demands of maintaining and preserving the overwhelming size of the estate. Eventually, the estate fell in the hands of Eldest Makarov and was later renamed the Dreyar Royal Manor. Its affairs were personally managed by Queen Rayla Dreyar until her death.

 The Dreyar Royal Manor and the people living in it, regardless of race, held a special place in Queen Rayla’s heart. She did not see her people as subjects but as members of her family that needed taking care of. So she imposed these duties upon herself: to preserve the Manor and to watch over its people. If she was looking down from heaven, Queen Rayla may be crying her heart out at the disheartening sight of her beloved Manor.

 Years of neglect has dulled the once lively home. Now, only stray grass grew on it. Laxus Dreyar, the only son of the Eldest, refused to allow his mother’s efforts and her memory go to vain. So, Laxus took over the management and restored the Manor to its former glory, just how he knew his mother wanted it. The property remained with the Dreyar Family ever since.

 The four hundred acres served as home to those who became members of the Royal Family through the Selection. While attending the prestigious Academy, Queens Lyssandra, Victoria, Samara and Lirabelle, respective queen consorts of the North, East, West and Southern Kingdoms, were residents of the Manor at some point in time.

 Today, the Dreyar Royal Manor was going to welcome its four newest royal residents.

Gajeel stayed in the car and refused to come out; all grumpy and pouty. If anyone told him days ago that he’d be staying at the Dreyar estate and be enrolling into the Academy he would have definitely punched the bastard squarely in the face. But he couldn’t, since that someone was King Gareth Redfox – his father.

 Gajeel has lived for more than a hundred years. His days playing a high school boy had long been behind him. He has seen things and done things no ordinary boy could have. Gajeel Redfox was a man. He grinned at himself. The nights he spent in the sac of numerous strangers painted a triumphant smirk on his lips. Definitely, a man.

 However, he was well aware of the reason of their exile to the Academy. He was present at the Round Table when the Royal Council discussed the matter at hand. The discussion played in his head like broken record.

 Gajeel wasn’t one to be modest in airing his sentiments but when it came down to it he knew, in these trying times, he would never abandon the Royal Family. He would never abandon her. So despite his reservations, Gajeel was now sitting at the passenger’s seat watching as helpers walked in and out of the Dreyar Mansion.

 The Western whiner threw a glance at the other royal with the long and silky hair, of color which he couldn’t decide between white and silver. Gajeel couldn’t help but snort at the sight. The princess had one arm on her hips while the free one gestured here and there, much like she was conducting an orchestra. A smile which rivaled the sun’s radiance was plastered across her face.

 At least, Gajeel thought, someone was enjoying all of this.

 A dim thud pulled his attention toward the vacated driver’s seat. Knightus Dreyar stepped outside the car, shutting the door behind him; his golden hair blazing at the touch of the sun. The backseat was now deserted too. The youngest royal must have left right after Knight, leaving Gajeel no other choice but to follow. But not before he made an audible  and displeased sound. There were a lot of places he would rather be at: the sunny beach, the energetic night-life district and even just in the comfort of his own castle. The Dreyar Royal Estate was definitely not in the list.

 The helpers formed two lines right before the royal quartet and waited to be dismissed. They have been polishing the mansion in anticipation of the arrival of the royals. They have wiped and scrubbed every inch and crony of that place. Who would have thought Princess Mirajane still had a few words to say? Control ran in the blood of her line. It was probably a trait passed down from one Strauss generation to another.

 All eyes looked anywhere but at the royals present. It was common courtesy. Commoners were forbidden to touch or approach a member of the royal family. An ancient rule created by the Caste system to maintain power and reputation. Remnants of this rule, although has eased up, still existed today. Gajeel thought it was preposterous considering this day and age.

 The Prince of the North Kingdom stepped out of the royal four-man line to thank the help for their services. He gave them the whole inspiring speech Gajeel had no interest in listening to. He was thankful though. As an older vampire, Gajeel ought to be the person boring the crowd with this ‘gratitude speech’. But now, he didn’t have to thanks to the golden-haired prince. He hated all these royal formalities and decorum.

 Gajeel studied how Knight carried himself in front of the helpers. Classic Prince Charming, he thought. The Prince from the North Kingdom put great weight on the manners and etiquette impressed upon him since he was a child; a stickler for values and traditions. It was one of his many attractive qualities.

 The Western Prince was just the opposite; not that he wasn’t charming or mannerly himself. He’d meet his mother’s fist if he appeared to exhibit what she deemed ‘unroyal behavior’. Queen Samara was a stern disciplinarian. So, the Prince had the role of well-mannered prince down to a T. If Queen Samara wasn’t looking. Because Gajeel Redfox loved himself a little danger. So once in a while, he allowed himself to slip out of the Prince image. Something, he bet, Knightus Dreyar never did.

 Well, except when a certain red-head was involved.

 Gajeel’s scanning dark eyes landed next on the heiress to the Strauss Crown.

 Mirajane Strauss strictly adhered to rules and regulations. She followed them with no complaints. Even if some of them were considered outdated. But Gajeel could never place her in a single category; compliant in nature but was far from the meek, damsel-in-distress stereotype. As the first in the third generation of royal vampires, she was the strongest in that line. Mira has proven it on numerous occasions.

 She was a paradox; Sugar and spice. Sweet and deadly. So much so that even Gajeel would think twice in challenging her. He made that mistake once and would never dare do it again.

 Juvia of the East Kingdom was a little rebellious just like Gajeel. She too was a lover of danger. Feisty and fearless – always sought thrill and freedom. She always tried to break away from the subservient princess she was expected to be. Always challenging the status quo. Juvia would never please anyone, not if it didn’t suit her interests. So did Gajeel.

 The only difference between the two, which earned Gajeel’s respect toward the youngest royal, was the latter’s display of blatant defiance even in front of her mother. Something Gajeel could never dream of doing. Juvia was a rebel without a cause and just sought to stir trouble. She was all sorts of fun. That was why among the three, he was most fond of the Juvia.

 But lately, something was different. There was something about Juvia that felt different. Gajeel peered at the Eastern heiress as if by doing so he would find the answer. What was it? Why did Juvia seem different?

 Reality drew Gajeel’s attention back to the Manor’s head-servant addressing the Northern prince. Oba Babasama was the only one allowed to do so for having served the Dreyar Family for more than two centuries.

 “Please, Your Highness, if there is anything we can help with, never hesitate to call.” informed Oba. Clearly, the helpers were at the royals’ disposal to answer to every beck and call.

 “Thank you, Oba Babasama.” answered Knight. “We promise not to be a burden.”

 Gajeel smirked. Says who, he thought. His sly smile having every intention to do the opposite.

 One by one, the helpers dispersed, leaving the royal quartet alone at the property. Gajeel leaned against the Royce and observed Mirajane, not at all knowing what she was thinking. Then, he heard her voice, her back still at him.

 “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Mira inhaled the smell of fresh morning. “Since our last adventure?”

 Mira spun to face the three royals still standing beside the Rolls Royce Dawn. She clasped her hands together and declared with confidence. The fully awakened morning dulled in the brightness of her smile. The morning dew, the environment, all promised a fresh start.

 “I just know it. This is going to be a one kick-ass year!”

 “What are you now? A fortune-teller?” quipped Gajeel as he peeled himself off the Royce.

 Mira ignored Gajeel’s comment and started for the main door. She spoke of her plans for the semester as she strutted, drowning the other royals in her words and excitement. No one knew where she was getting all that energy early in the morning.

 “Geez, woman. Take it down a notch.” Gajeel massaged his temple in annoyance.

 With Mira’s youthful enthusiasm, Juvia, somehow, was hopeful. She wanted to believe it. That this year was going to be better. Kick-ass. She just couldn’t shake off, for some unknown reason, the unsettling feeling weighing on her stomach.

 Juvia quelled her doubts with one thought: she should be thankful. It would have been lonely, getting vanished to the Academy alone. It was selfish, she knew. A part of her felt a little guilty but the part that won was gratitude. It didn’t hurt to be selfish sometimes, did it?

 Juvia fell behind, just one step outside the door, under the roofed entry porch. She gathered her thoughts. Juvia was beyond grateful. She did not have to do it alone. Mira, Gajeel and Knight, they blindly came to her side. Abandoned everything at the drop of a hat. No questions asked. Even though she has not opened up to them yet. Even though she has not opened up to anyone yet. Of course, she knew, at some point she had to tell them the truth. They deserved the truth, they earned it. She wasn’t going to keep these people she loved in the dark.

 Just not today.

 “Thanks.” muttered Juvia. Although the intended benefactors weren’t in sight, she knew they heard her – loud and clear.

 As she pushed the door open, Juvia felt her phone vibrate. She stopped just inches away from the threshold and pulled out the phone from the back pocket to see who the message was from. The screen read ‘Lucy H’ with a heart emoticon in place of a period. She swiped the excerpt of the message to read the full text.

 ‘Are you at the estate? I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. We’re preparing for the opening ceremony and Erza could be a little… you know.’

 Juvia understood. From what Lucy has told her, as the President of the student body, Erza could really be a little… dictator. The royal tapped in her response assuring her best friend that her absence was excused.

 ‘See you at school.’

 Juvia stared at the last sentence she had just typed in. Her heart thumped. Was she even ready for it? Was she ready to see and meet people? She shook her head. Of course, she was. She had to be.

 The princess slid her phone back into her pocket and crossed the threshold. But before she shut the door close behind her, Juvia couldn’t help but remember what Mira just said.

 “Kick-ass year, huh?”

 Juvia let out a breath; half worrying, half hoping.

 Did you trade it for something, somewhere? Better just to have it

  Do you know what your fate is And are you trying to shake it

 The new day forced Juvia’s eyes open, peeking through the cracks between her room’s heavy curtains. She covered her eyes before the sun finally ruined her retinas. Her pupils fixated on the stone on her ring finger. Sapphire, the holy gem. Juvia always took off her sun ring before going to sleep and would only wear it the following morning. Last night, however, she wore her sun ring through the night. Something she hasn’t done before.

 Juvia would have rolled to the other side to get more sleep but she couldn’t go back to it even if she wanted to. Her entire being was wide awake. It was not like she was excited or anything. The princess just had a hard time falling asleep last night. It has been a while since she last left her castle. Her body was adjusting to the new environment.

 Juvia propped herself on the bed, sitting on the comfortable mattress. Getting out of bed proved to be a struggle. She glanced at the clock sitting on her bedside table; it read five. Too early, she thought.

 She wasn’t really in the spirits to begin the day. Should she skip it? Juvia stared at her curtains and pictured the radiant sun behind them. Today was the first day of school. Like a stranger in a new town, she felt anxious. Of what, she asked herself. People? How ridiculous.

 Finally deciding it was futile staying in bed, Juvia willed herself up, swung her feet at the side of the bed and shuffled to the bathroom. She dawdled over the morning ritual of showering and dressing. Juvia did not give much thought about her outfit. Anything would do. She studied her reflection in the mirror: ocean eyes, blue locks, porcelain skin and slender figure. Everything about her looked the same. How come Juvia felt different?

 Princess Juvia descended the stairs to an inviting smell of Gajeel’s cooking and humming. Despite his tough persona, the Western prince was a commendable cook. Although, Juvia would never admit it to him. Gajeel need not have another reason to inflate his ballooning ego.

 “Did you sleep well last night?”

 Mirajane raised her eyes off her phone screen and greeted the youngest royal. Apparently, Juvia was the last person to come downstairs.

 “Yes.” lied Juvia.

 There was no need to worry Mira, who returned to typing on her phone. Juvia sat between the former and the prince with the golden hair. The latter was buried in a book.

 Juvia noticed the empty seats around the kitchen counter. Erza and Lucy should have joined them for breakfast. But there was still no sign of any of the two. Juvia awoken her phone. No unread messages. She put it to sleep and set the phone on the table next to her plate. Lucy probably didn’t sleep at the mansion last night, Juvia thought, but she should have left her a message.

 As the three young royals waited for breakfast, Juvia averted her focus on the television. The morning news was on. They were showing aftermath of a rebel attack at one of the villages in the East Kingdom. The picture shattered Juvia’s indifference. Her heart pounded at the sight of half-burnt structures and the casualties surrounding them. The attack was still fresh. The thick gray smoke replaced the sky.

 The anchor informed that the fire has already been extinguished and the entire situation was already under control. But it pained Juvia to watch her people coming out of the burnt buildings, screaming and crying in pain and at loss. She silently prayed that help came straightaway.

 Troubled ocean eyes searched for two certain figures in the background. There she saw a tall masculine figure donned in the official East Kingdom Commander-in-Chief uniform. He was talking to some familiar faces she always sees in her father’s meeting room.

 She was relieved when the other figure she was looking for wasn’t anywhere around the site. Juvia was sure her mother wanted to be there, even argued with her father to be allowed to help. Be of use. She was also sure her father refused. King Juliann always had his family’s safety in mind and in priority. Hence, her exile to the Dreyar Manor.

 Grit and urgency stirred inside her but her rippling thoughts were quickly interrupted.

 “I know what you are thinking and there’s no way in hell the Council would allow you anywhere near that site.”

 Mirajane did not take her eyes off her phone but she quickly quashed any thoughts of Juvia coming to the village to help.

 “I wasn’t thinking that.”

 That was Juvia’s second lie today. Good way to start the first day of school, she sarcastically thought. But Mira was right so Juvia conceded.

 “Bon appetite!”

 Gajeel jumped in with an offer of a delicious breakfast. He laid four plates of four-layered pancakes with a side of crisp bacon on the counter.

 “Man, good looks, great body and crazy set of talents. No wonder women fall at my feet.”

 Mirajane stifled a laugh.

 “What are you laughing at? Just eat your food. You, too.” Gajeel pointed at Mira then Juvia. “Don’t leave anything on that plate.”

 “Yes, mother.” quipped Juvia, earning a subtle laugh from her company.

 Then, the four royals ate in a lighter atmosphere. Despite the lingering worry wearing her down, Juvia hoped she would feel better as the day wore on.

 You're doing your best and you're best look You're praying that you'll make it

  Juvia leaned her head against the car window. She got tired of watching Gajeel banging his head and drumming his fingers with the tune playing in the car. Instead, she shifted her attention to the line of trees and the green expanse that moved inside her window like a reel of still images. Her mind was shut and the beautiful scenery passed before her eyes in a blur. It was better that way, she thought. She did not like thoughts visiting her.

 Juvia felt the car slowing down; her body leaned a little on the side when the car made a slow turn. The head of the clock tower peeked above the trees that blocked the Academy’s entire body. It was the most dominant feature of the school. As the car progressed, the ridges of the structure’s roofing came to view until the rest of the building fully materialized before Juvia’s indifferent blue eyes.

 As one of the few surviving original structures in the pre-vampire period and still being part of the Dreyar Estate, the influence of that era’s architecture was strongly present. All the buildings in the Academy’s compound were constructed out of the same materials to resemble each other and fall within one common motif.

 Even yards away, Juvia could distinctly hear excited shrills and random thought patterns all at once. She pressed her temple and tried to block the noise off. It was rude to eavesdrop, after all.

 Knight’s Royce slowed down as they approached the Academy’s gate which was neither intimidating nor welcoming. Without any interrogation or confirmation, the on-post guard quickly ordered the gate to be opened. Knight’s Royce needed no introduction. Inside, the car purred through the open space before it finally made a full stop.

 Juvia stepped out of the car, not quite sure how to feel walking into the Academy’s grounds. She landed on both feet. She took measured steps as if she was testing the ground for the first time. She was finally here. Which only meant one thing, that everything that happened was real. She wasn’t having a bad dream. Reality slapped Juvia in the face as cold as the wind that winter blows.

 The Eastern Princess felt a light tap on her shoulder. She spun around to see Gajeel; his face pulled in a frown.

 “You okay?”

 Juvia nodded in response, offering the prince a small smile. Gajeel wanted to tell her that it didn’t suit her. The latter chose to keep quiet, for now. He’d save the questions for later.

 “Are you ready?”

 It was Knight who spoke next, taking his sunglasses off, just coming out of the driver’s seat. Although he addressed the group, Juvia caught his gaze and couldn’t help but feel that the question was directed at her.

 “You betcha!”

 Mira climbed down the car, completing the royal quartet.

 Juvia had to thank her. Mira responding on her behalf removed the thorn that was caught up in her throat. She couldn’t quite settle on how she felt about everything. Her mind was in a big mess.

 Juvia let the peppy royal lead her to the front of the main building where she saw a number of students already gathered. Knight started after them with Gajeel in a close-knit pack.

 The chatters at the yard suddenly stopped like someone just turned off a switch. Babble of gasps and sighs flared up. All eyes were awestruck. The fact that royal bloods were approaching the quad was definitely a surprise. The silence was short-lived, however. In a split second, the switch was on and the entire Academy buzzed back to life.

 Too many mental thoughts bombarded Juvia’s brain. The discreet murmurs were loudly resounding in her ears. It was all dizzying. But the thought patterns were boiled down into one: that none of them could believe who were walking towards and amongst them.

 It wasn’t all strange for Juvia. She was used to it. She was used to being stared at, talked about, the apple of the eye. There was a time she enjoyed the attention. If this was the old Juvia, she would give every queen bee a run for their money. It was easy. All Juvia needed to do was nod, wave and charm the audience with her magnetic smile. Easy. Well, it used to be.

 While Juvia had to put up appearances, Mirajane smiled and waved like she was about to walk into a hero’s welcome. She was accustomed to a grand entrance and naturally fell right into it. Juvia thought her jaw was going to break from all the fake smiling. She had no choice. Noblesse oblige. Privilege entailed responsibility. And there was no greater privilege than waiting next in line for the royal crown.

 It wasn’t long until the four royalties were surrounded as soon as they stopped at the middle of the yard. A few familiar faces, those who were part of the royal circle, approached and greeted them. They quickly exchanged pleasantries but didn’t stay long. The other students, those who thought did not deserve to even look at the royals, simply stood and stared at the sidelines. Even inside the Academy, the Caste system was in full force.

 Through the chatters, the voice that relaxed Juvia called out, keeping her uneasiness at bay. Lucy Heartfilia welcomed the royal quartet. She ran towards them and threw her arms around the royal with the blue locks, pulling her in a tight and welcoming embrace. Juvia reciprocated with equal warmth.

 “Can’t believe you guys are finally here.” whispered Lucy. “I’m really sorry I can’t be at the Manor to welcome you.”

 It was Juvia who broke the hug first only to look at the blonde and reassure her.

 “I told you it’s no big deal.”

 She hasn’t seen the young blonde since the events after the Selection, after the attack at the Lockser Castle. Lucy stayed with the Lockser Royal Family ever since she was orphaned. She and Juvia became best friends, almost attached to the hip. In summers and school breaks, the two would play, hang around and do just about anything together until the break ends. That particular summer, Lucy was told not to come home for a while. Just until King Juliann sorted out the mess. Juvia knew her father was right. She did not want to put Lucy in any danger. So even if it broke her heart, Juvia advised her best friend not to return for the time being.

 Juvia caught up on something. She squinted as her eyes examined the young blonde.

 “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Lucy giggled as she questioned the strange look Juvia was giving her.

 The young blonde never wore make-up but her skin was as flawless as ever, even glowing. Lucy’s skin could almost parallel Juvia’s fair and translucent one. But Juvia’s curious eyes landed on the cute red ribbon sitting atop of Lucy’s head. The band pushed her hair back, save for her side bangs. Her face was glowing.

 Juvia was about to open her mouth and tease her about it when…

 “Drop dead.”

 “Same to you.”

 Knight and Erza already started their usual derisive exchange; swallowing the words Juvia wanted to say. Contempt was raging in the duo’s eyes, his blue and her chocolate ones. Knowing the two and spending almost two years with them, Juvia was sure it was the most civil greeting they both could muster. She couldn’t help but think though; didn’t they miss each other, at least?

 The woman with the blazing scarlet hair would have added something if not for the first bell which interrupted them. Erza started towards the main building but not before she and Knight stared each other down for a good moment that Juvia thought would stretch on forever.

 “Those two surely got along.” commented Gajeel with a tone that implied the opposite.

 Lucy linked arms with Juvia, promising her that they will sit next to each other.

 “Who would believe, in a million years, we’re going to end up in the same class?”

 Even Juvia was amused with the fact that she was older than Lucy by a hundred years. Yet, here they were, about to begin the school year together. Her anxiety and fears melted away, long forgotten.

 “I’ll definitely make sure we’ll be sitting next to each other in every class.” informed Lucy. “Then, we’re going to school dances together.” She was already planning the entire year ahead. “Then, there’s prom!” she exclaimed.

 The blonde’s excitement was contagious. For a moment, Juvia felt like her old self again. For the first time since the Selection, Juvia felt excited about something.

“Then, we can pick the same elective classes. I don’t know which one you’ll like but… oh!”

 Lucy paused, stopping Juvia with her, when she remembered something. She retrieved her arm for a moment to take out a piece of paper from her bag.

 “I copied a schedule for you so you don’t get lost or anything.”

 Juvia stared at the paper. The table showed the semester’s class schedule.

 “I hope we’re in the same classes.”

 “Of course!” exclaimed Lucy. “I made sure of that.” She winked.

 It seemed like Lucy was able to pull a few strings. She was, after all, the student body Vice President. It was easy to get absorbed in conversation with Lucy. She was enthusiastic about everything. Like nothing was wrong. Nothing was ever wrong. A little ball of sunshine. Lucy was always in high spirits and she could light up a room with her mere presence.

 Just what Juvia needed.

 But before she could step into the main building, a sudden powerful feeling slapped her at the back. Juvia felt her heart skip a beat. Her ears throbbed. She recognized that feeling anywhere, anytime.

 Do you know where your love is Do you think that you lost it You felt it so strong, But nothing's turned out how you wanted

 Juvia felt it when he was around, whenever they both were in one room. She turned away from Lucy for a moment and gazed at the side. There he was, at the middle of the sea of running students; making his way towards the main building. The other students passed him by but Juvia’s eyes were fixed at that one person – the raven-haired boy.

 A gripping feeling transfixed her to where she stood. It ravaged her being from head to toe, like a blanket of misery covered her blind and suffocated her in an instant. There was only one person who could cause this feeling, Juvia recognized it easily. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to see him. She knew she was going to bump into him in the school one way or another. Juvia just hoped it wasn’t today.

 Well all I need is the air I breathe and a place to rest my head

 Gray slung his backpack and walked without hurry. It was the first day of school and he was already running late. So, what was the point? He took his time even when the main building was already in sight. He paused, so suddenly that the person behind bumped into him.

 Gray did not hear him apologize. His entire mental and physical functions were focused on one figure standing before the building’s main entrance. Her blue locks were undeniable. It was certainly her, Princess Juvia Lockser in the flesh.

 His heart was racing. Gray played this scenario in his head a hundred times. How should he approach her? What should he say? All his planned responses escaped him now that Juvia appeared before him, a short distance away. He wasn’t dreaming, it was Juvia.

 Get a grip, Gray, he scolded himself. When he finally recovered from the shock, Gray told himself to be polite. First things first, he needed to greet her. Gray settled with offering the princess a smile. He was so unsure what to do that the small line on his face appeared rather awkward.

 Juvia returned the smile, probably out of courtesy. But Gray noticed something missing – the spark. He looked into her ocean eyes; they betrayed her smile because there was nothing there but void, an endless and boundless emptiness.

 A sunken feeling coursed through Gray; restraining him without shackles. He just stood there like an abandoned rock thrown in a rushing river: still and quiet. He was helpless and all he could do was watch Juvia disappear behind the main building’s entrance.

 He silently prayed that she would look back and wished that he was wrong; that the sparkle in her eyes never left. She never did; not even a glance. Gray knew he did not have the right but it did not stop him from carrying a heavy heart all day.

Well, bless my soul, you're a lonely soul Cause you won’t let go of anything you hold

AN: Okay so, as promised! Happy Halloween you guys!

[tarunjtejpal]

Tarun J Tejpal - The Missionary Position

Tarun J Tejpal - We all love sentimental trash, especially if it can masquerade as something artistic and meaningful. Often it needn't even do that — in an act of self-affirmation we invest it with these virtues. Slumdog Millionaire is one more representation of India as the white man sees it, not as we do. It's a five-hundred-year old tradition. Look carefully, the triumphant picture in the papers could be the enlightened missionary with the tribal boys. The tradition is strong: we've always been cosy with the representations. It's worthwhile to remember we did not tell an Indian story and force the world to recognise it. They told us an Indian story and forced us to applaud it.

A bit like Thomas Babington Macaulay, who declared from behind the musketry of the colonial conqueror that a "single shelf of a good European library was worth the whole native literature of India and Arabia". Looking up a long barrel with gunpowder at its end, we quietly acquiesced. Quietly turned our backs on hundreds of classical and medieval texts, including the great epics, the Vedas, the Puranas, the Upanishads, the medical, ethical, linguistic, erotic and political treatises of dozens of pathbreaking thinkers, the plays of Kalidasa, the deeply humanist and philosophic poetry of the sufi and bhakti singers, and the luminous memoirs of emperors and commoners. And having acquiesced in our classification by another — ill-informed at that — proceeded to spend the next nearly two hundred years hunting for approval.

The argument does not proceed from narrowness, from a bristling us and them. Artistic domain, and license, is boundless — even if the art is only commerce. Everyone has the right to tell anyone's story, in whichever way they choose. But if the story is specious and yet is taken for a master tale, it's reason to wonder at the state of cultural discourse.

From a distance, through the refractions of many media lenses, I like Danny Boyle. He exudes great energy and humility. Qualities that make astonishing things possible, qualities that are on display in his rollercoaster film set in Mumbai, his Concorde ride to showbiz stardom. Yet, from a distance, through the rapturous din of critics and viewers, I wonder at the film. Setting aside AR Rahman's ever-enchanting music and the visceral brilliance of the little kids, I try and understand why a reasonably entertaining, mildly inconsistent, mildly incoherent, mildly sloppy in its casting, mildly sloppy on its facts film, with a banal narrative trajectory, and dodgy politics at its heart, becomes such a phenomenon.

One feels awe not for the film, but for its miraculous journey. Clearly, in an increasingly low-brow ocean of publicity and hype, the idea of true excellence is a drowned raft.

Not shorn of the hype, but because of it, to an Indian, the film ought to disappoint. It tells me nothing that I don't already know; and it tells me things I know to be not true. Unlike Amitabh Bachchan I have no problems with the film focusing on India's abject poverty. That focus is salutary, and crying out for further exploration. My problem is the opposite— that it trivialises it. Uses its excreta and chopped limbs to tell a dubious story that leaves the viewer not disturbed but cheerfully smug. You leave the seat exhilarated, not in pain.

The film tells a very big lie: that India's poor have a happy shot at leaping out of their misery into affluence and joy. One day you can be in the crap heap — diving into excreta — and the next running down a slum girl who may have failed to make school but seems to have managed to walk through Vogue's offices on her way to teenage. With a stunning lack of plausibility you see the slum child Jamaal grow into a refined public schoolboy who must surely be eating cucumber sandwiches for lunch. India's wannabe wealthy — billionaires among them — would slice their fingers to boast such a sophisticated son. For that accent alone, they would throw in their toes too.

As many cooing admirers have remarked, the director is on a lickety-split run, pacing his film like a Kobe Bryant fast-break in an NBA finals. Throw, catch, feint, weave, leap, dunk; turn and start running again. Aw! Gee! The camera is shaking, the story is sprinting — there is no way anyone can tell if a few chapters have fallen out, several links of logic lost. You have to be grateful Jamal only grows up to be Dev Patel. Given the absence of any need to explain the miraculous transformation, he could well have become Brad Pitt or Prince Charles. To further celebrate the carnival of implausibility, Master Dev acts with the cool flatness of the cucumber sandwich (that he surely must be eating) — no neuroses of the slums tarnishing his soul.

For those celebrating the authenticity of the film, here's a secret: the makers clearly had no interest in verisimilitude. It's been the rough approach of artists working the India material for the last hundred years. It arises from a clear understanding of "audience". The awgee mobs filling theatres around the world, and paying in dollars or some such muscular currency, cannot tell the difference between Hindi and Hindu or the vast distance between Mumbai and Agra. Much like the American tourists at the Taj Mahal, who cannot distinguish between an unlettered, ignorant urchin and a licensed guide.

The awgee mobs — which include vast swathes of awgee India — will not be held back by the remarkable metamorphosis of Hindi-speaking slum children into English-speaking teenagers — smoothly accomplished whilst riding the roofs of trains, without the intervention of any forms of schooling. Nor will they wonder by what divine principle some of the desperately destitute speak Hindi and others English. In the happy world of air-conditioning and popcorn — and fountain Pepsi — the poor can be made to do whatever we wish. Dance, sing, love, win quiz contests, murder with a Webley & Scott, die in a tub full of currency notes. What is the meaning of being rich if you cannot make the poor do whatever you wish? What is the meaning of being Hollywood if you cannot make India whatever you wish?

Aptly then, the awgee army will not be detained by the representation of the police either. It knows Mumbai's police have vanquished murder, rape, riot, theft and arson. All its working on now is nabbing crooked quiz contestants and torturing them through the night with electrical shocks to evoke the correct answer. If the art direction is right — squalid files and furniture — and the cop is fat enough, there is no reason for further doubt. It also knows behind the fatness and toughness the police hide the soul of Mother Teresa. Once the boy who eats cool cucumber sandwiches begins to talk, his heart will melt, and the empathy flows like faeces in the slums.

THE AWGEE sociologists also know that the grand hosts of India's grandest shows all come from the slums. Amitabh Bachchan, Shah Rukh Khan — the only two who've ever hosted the Hindi version of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? And, of course, now Anil Kapoor in this fast-break film — who chooses to host it in English, because the slum boy has lost his Hindi as he grew up (just as Kapoor himself did — the upward mobility from the slums is a veritable avalanche!). Awgee and awgee also know that these grand hosts play sinister games, like planting wrong answers and summarily handing over contestants to the fat and tough police (for electrocution and empathy).

The media tells us the film is about hope. And hope, as we all know, is greater than inconsistency, inaccuracy, implausibility, dodgy politics, and party pooper critics. And since the film is about the triumph of impossible hope, it is impossibly greater than all of the above. QED. And yes, of course it is also a fantasy, a fairytale. And since, for these poor sods, hope too is a fantasy, it all coheres, hangs together beautifully.

The awgee readers of awgee media know that this is the crucial difference between people like Satyajit Ray, Mira Nair and the Slumdog millionaires. Their films were about poverty and street children; this one's about fantastic hope. In their heart of hearts, the awgee readers know the poor are desperately in need of hope. They also know that hope is all they can — and will — give them. And let's be honest — false or true, fantastic hope is still hope. The media knows something even more fundamental. Never criticise the celebrity whose interview keeps your shop alive. The road to poverty is paved with robust criticism.

The world of entertainment is studded with shining pyramids of implausibility. Each one's true reward is a singing cash register. But great awards, fools argue, must go to the fragile hutments of truth and excellence. The wise, on the other hand, know the wages at the Oscars better. They know they have a rare gift (as in the film) for turning ordinary shit into tasty chocolate and peanut butter.

It's  Written by Tarun J Tejpal. Some rides are so giddy you can't see the truth, says Tarun J Tejpal.  According to Tarun Tejpal “sorrow must not be cultivated: it is a poor lifestyle choice.” Tarun Tejpal is a journalist, publisher, and novelist. In a 26-year career, Tarun Tejpal has been an editor with the India Today and the Indian Express groups, and the managing editor of Outlook, India’s premier newsmagazine. In March 2000, he started Tehelka, a news organisation that has earned a global reputation for its aggressive public interest journalism.  Also you can check Tarun J Tejpal.

[pirate-patton]

Title: Curiosity Killed the Cat; Satisfaction Brought Him Back Tag List: @undertakershairline @mewsicalmiss @romananalogicality @rose-gold-roman @thegoldenmink @the-prince-and-the-emo @theawesomestofsauces @jellyjam24 @sabriel-fanboy-83 @the-sanders-sides @amazable01 @milk-withtwosugars @bbcanimefangirl @analogically-prinxiety @asexual-trashbag @calz-craze @gayfagg @gracefullyinsanedancingunicorn @phandemoniumclub @virgils-anxiety @natalie-wheres-the-tampons @hrtnsolofytube @greymane902 @ashrain5 @fandom-screamings @mira-jadeamethyst @cefmua56 @colie7700 @madd-catter @leesacrakon @a-blog-just-for-sanders @doesdanielhowelisgay @viva-la-nordics @just-fic-me-up @justanotherpurplebutterfly @thebeautyofthomas

Virgil had a notebook.  A kind of worn out, once black notebook with purple pen scratches all across the front.  The others rarely got to see this notebook, but they were well aware of its existence. For the most part, no one dared to ask what it was for or if they could see it.  No one, not even Patton, was curious enough to risk the little bit of trust and confidence building between them and the anxious side.  

That is…until Virgil got more confident and trusted them more.

The notebook made its way out of his room more and more, finding its way onto the coffee table, dining table, the counters, and the sofa much more often.  Every now and then one of them would catch Virgil with his knees to his chest scribbling away in the book, and just seeing it drove them crazy.

To say that Logan wasn’t dying to know what was in the book would have been the biggest lie ever told in the mind palace.  As the logical side, he was also the side that enjoyed learning the most.  Learning, observing…dying of curiosity.  Secrets were not his thing.  They were not his “jam.”  What was his “jam” was figuring out why Virgil hid the notebook when he was using it.

And now, he had an opportunity.

“Be right back,” Virgil mumbled.  The anxious side hopped up from his spot on the other end of the sofa and dragged his notebook into his spot.  Logan watched him leave and round the corner to his room, and it didn’t take long for all of that curiosity to come rushing to the forefront of his mind.

What could be in this mysterious notebook?  Drawings?  Logan thought of all the possibilities for Virgil Drawings.  From a Tim Burton-esque style all the way down to an Invader Zim style. Mainly monsters or gore…or possibly he’d be full of surprises and fill the notebook with drawings that calmed him? Kittens, puppies, maybe a few koalas or red pandas?  Or maybe he was a classic early 2000s emo child and filled his notebook with stitched-up, bandaged-up, and bleeding hearts?  

Perhaps the notebook contained his thoughts.  What a trip that would be.  Thoughts and analyses of ever scenario Thomas encountered.  It’d probably be a mish-mash and assorted lists of words indecipherable to anyone but Virgil.

But then…Virgil had said before that he wrote.  Sonnets, at least.  Could this notebook be his writings…?

Logan caught his hand gravitating toward the book, and he snatched the offending digits back against his chest.  No, he couldn’t.  He would not be the first to break.  Virgil would share the contents of the book when he felt he was ready, and Logan would just have to respect that.  

…But he wouldn’t even know if Logan took a quick peak just to see what Virgil used the notebook for…

…But that would still be abusing Virgil’s trust.  He left the book there out of trust.  

…But-!

“I’m back,” Virgil announced, throwing himself down on top of the book.  He pulled it back out from underneath himself and opened it up to wherever he’d left off. “Needed a different blue.”

Ah.  Drawings. Had to be.

…Right?

Logan’s curiosity had yet to die off a week later.  All four of them sat around the dining table for breakfast, and after eating they all stuck around the kitchen, taking the day as a lazy day.  Virgil stayed sat at the table hunched over his notebook, a purple pen in his hand this time.  

Logan watched him, barely paying attention to Roman as the creative side spat off about whatever adventure he’d been on the day before and how he’d hurt his neck rescuing some…royalty, Logan assumed.  No matter, it wasn’t like there’d be a quiz.

“Are you even listening to me, Logan?!” Roman whined.

“What?” Logan turned to face him, holding back laughter at the frustrated look on Roman’s face.

“While you simply read about these kinds of adventures, I’m living them!” Roman exclaimed in that whiny voice of his that Logan so detested.  “Why, you’re more interested in whatever Wednesday Addams over there is doing than my actually interesting story!”

“Falsehood, I was paying neither of you any mind!” Logan insisted.  At this point, Virgil had looked up, squinty-eyed as ever, to figure out what the heck was going on with these two.  Logan looked over at him when he heard a snicker, and he caught sight of lines and lines and lines and lines of words.  So, he didn’t draw in the notebook; it was for writing.

…But writing what?!

Before he could figure it out, Virgil flipped the book shut and got to his feet, tucking the notebook in his jacket.  “I’m gone; you two are way too noisy.”

“Look what you did, Roman.”

“ME?!”

“Alright, you two, who wants to help me make muffins?!” Patton called as he bound into the dining room holding up a recipe book.

Now Logan was just getting frustrated.  He’d been so good up to this point!  Now he had a glimpse of the inside of the notebook and all of its overwhelming amounts of blue and purple and green writing, and he desperately wanted to read it.  Unfortunately, the unmade muffins were getting the brunt of his anger.  

“Logan, be careful stirring the blueberries!”  Patton’s increasingly shrill concern snapped Logan back, and he looked down at the bowl before deciding that, yep, he’d done a good job mixing.  “I will take that…” Patton said, slowly removing the bowl from Logan’s hands.

Logan groaned and dropped his head onto the counter, gently banging his forehead against the corner.  He couldn’t take this anymore.  He was going to lose it.

“Is there any reason you’re suddenly so grumpy?” Patton asked as he scooped the muffin batter out into paper liners.  

“It’s…nothing…” Logan said.

“Now you and I both know that’s not true.  Has it got something to do with Virgil’s notebook?”

“You’ve noticed…”

“Well, it’s not every day you lose control of your curiosity, Mr. Calm and Collected.”  Patton had a point, Logan supposed.  Why did Logan care so much?  Before this point he’d chalked it up to him being naturally curious as apart of who he was, but now…  “Why don’t you just ask Virgil if you can read it?”

Logan shook his head rapidly, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter heavily.  “Curiosity killed the cat, remember,” he said.

“Ah, but satisfaction brought it back.”  Patton smirked and gave Logan a wink, nudging his side to make Logan move away from the drawer he needed in.  “If you don’t want to ask him, fine.  But I’m sure he’d share…”

“Why do act so confident about that?”

“No reason…”  The grin on Patton’s face was more than concerning, but Logan could only take one obsession at a time.

Logan stood in the doorway to the commons room just watching Virgil scribble away in his notebook.  He had to ask, just say something to end this yearning.  But…why was he so nervous?  His stomach felt off, not sick, but wrong, the longer he watched Virgil write.  

Virgil moved and rested his cheek in his right hand, and wow now it looked like he was doodling.  Logan covered his mouth to fight off a smile, wondering why in the world Virgil was so cute like that.  This was all too much; Logan had to put an end to it.  Ugh.

“Verge – Virgil,” Logan called, making the anxious side jump.

“Just use an air horn next time, why don’t you!”

“My apologies,” Logan said, moving farther into the room. He gingerly took a seat not too far from Virgil, just an arms’ length between their knees, and he looked at the notebook.  Virgil followed his eyes and snatched the book, slamming it shut.  “So…” Logan started, daring himself to just ask already, “…what is it that you fill that mysterious notebook of yours with?” he asked slowly.  Finally, finally the words were out and the answer, be it rejection or truth, was right in front of him. Hallelujah.

“What does it matter to you?” Virgil asked, guarding the book with his knees.

“Well…”  Think of a good reason!  “As we are all making a better effort to get to know you and include you, I should think that a good way to do just that would be learning about what you can and do put to paper.”  Nailed it.

“Ummm…”  Virgil’s eyes darted back and forth, never landing on Logan.  He concentrated them on his socks eventually, going silent. Logan could watch the gears turning in that nervous mind, and his heart ached to know what was going on in there. Gah, what was wrong with him?!  “I –“  Oh? “I guess there’s some stuff you can look at…”  

…Satisfactory.

Logan watched as Virgil flitted through the pages, scanning quickly yet carefully each one until he found one he was willing to share. Virgil handed the book over and dropped his face so only his eyes were visible over his knees.  Logan greedily looked over the page, taking in every single thing about it.  

The page was very brittle, very fragile.  How old was this notebook?  So many things on the backside of the page had been scratched out and scribbled out, to the point that holes poked through to the side he read.  Navy blue ink filled his page, which was good because at least he could comfortably read navy blue.  Then, with the page absorbed, he could finally read.

…Poetry.  Huh. And not sonnets.

Keeping me grounded must be an awful job, Though you do it well. I’m whiny, insufferable, and unbearable, But you take on my personal Hell And give me a minute at most in your Heaven.

“OK, that’s enough!” Virgil snatched the book away, face red as could be.  

It wasn’t enough, it couldn’t be enough.  Five lines that read like that was basically a cliffhanger, and it wasn’t fair.  But, Logan had to respect Virgil’s boundaries. No matter how frustrating they were. Maybe…maybe he could test his limits? “You are a very good writer, Virgil,” he said.

“Thanks, I guess…” Virgil mumbled, tucking the notebook back into his jacket.  

“You must write from experience?”  There, Logan threw out his line, and he hoped Virgil hooked on.  

“Yeah, what else would I have?  Roman’s the creative one…” Virgil said.  His sleeve found its way into his mouth and he looked at the ground. Great, he was anxious and uncomfortable, and he was making Logan feel bad.  

Just.  Not bad enough.

“Who were you writing about in that poem?” Logan asked.

“…It doesn’t matter.”

Oh, but it did.  It very much did matter who Virgil was writing about, because it was killing Logan.  He was sure he’d burst any minute and now he understood exactly how those curious cats felt when they were ready to just die.

“Well, it must matter if whoever it was does so much for you,” Logan said.  

“Don’t worry about it!”

“And that is supposed to make me not?”

“Really just – it doesn’t matter, Logan!”

“Then why do write them to mean so much?!”

��Because I just felt like it!”

“Well if you felt like it, then you must believe the words you put down, which means –“

“Would you stop!”

Logan shut up.  Clamp – jaw screwed shut – no more talking for him.  He really wanted to ask why it was big deal, but he refrained.  An angry Virgil was a dangerous Virgil. Possibly.  None of them had ever seen him truly angry.

“Look…” Virgil took a deep breath and brought back out his notebook.  “Everything in here is really personal.  I just…I dunno why I even let you look at it at all; I guess I trust you, but…maybe not for everything.”

Well, just rip out his heart and stomp on it.  Not like Logan wanted that useless thing, anyway. “You can trust me.”

Virgil bit his lip, nearly tearing a hole in it if his force was anything to judge by.  God, why couldn’t he just trust Logan with all of his secrets, PLEASE Virgil!

“It’s you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The poem, you idiot!”

Oh.  Oh!  Oh. That explains a lot.  “May I read the rest of it, then?” Logan asked, hoping with all his hope that Virgil would say yes.  

“I…nu-uh.  Not – not yet.”

He should’ve assumed that answer.  Of course, Logan still had to be there for Virgil.  He had to live up to the poem and be what Virgil saw in him. His anchor, the one that grounded him. The one that gave Virgil a piece of Heaven.

“I will not pry any more, I promise,” Logan said, pretending his useless hunk of heart didn’t leap when Virgil gave him a smile.  “So, would you want to watch a movie?”

“Wanna watch Scooby Doo?” Virgil asked.

“If that is what you want, then yes.”  

It didn’t take long for the two to get comfortable on the sofa, Zombie Island starting on the television.  Virgil slumped against Logan, resting his head on the logical side’s shoulder.  Logan rested his head on top of Virgil’s, and he now realized what was exactly meant by the end of that famous phrase.  No, he didn’t get all of his answers, and he still had questions, but for the moment he was happy with what he knew.  Virgil trusted him with a little snippet of his mind, and nothing could be more satisfying in that moment than that.

A/N: HA YOU THOUGHT THEY WERE GONNA MACK ON EACH OTHER DIDN’T YOU maybe one day. this is so long. i haven’t written something this long in forever. my brain hurts

[richincolor]

Today we welcome Tanuja Desai Hidier to the blog to share about her writing and music.

Tell us a bit about your life as a writer. What drew you to writing and what has kept you writing?

Reading! I’ve turned to the pen since as far back as I could hold it, and savor, seep into, fall into, flip a page. I was around five when I wrote my first poems: “The Secret” (spoiler alert: it’s a feather) and “Nelly & Shelly” (the fascination with supertwins commenced early). I wrote mostly poems till my teens; I have boxloads of three-ring binders of them in my childhood home. Some of these poems had melodies too–were first songs, in a sense. As a child I also invented bands and singers: designed their album covers, wrote and recorded songs for them on my tape recorder, and had a whole index card system where I’d draw them on one side, and write their bios on the other.

Funnily, none of my singers were ever women of color (always women, though). In fact, I only realized in my 30s, maybe even 40s, that this was the same of my short story characters (and I was writing those from about six years old onwards too—a long time!).

Most likely because I’d never seen such heroes and heroines on bookshelves, TV screens, magazine pages (and street: my family was the first of our particular ‘brown’ in our town, and the first to immigrate from both sides of the family in the 60s).

Many years later—after eons of procrastination, distraction, and, mainly, self-doubt in terms of not only my ability to write a novel, but whether I even had a story to tell—one of the reasons I wrote Born Confused and protagonist Dimple Lala was to fill this hole on my childhood bookshelf with a South Asian American coming of age story. To create heroes and heroines who more closely resembled those  in my own life. My own home.

Born Confused is considered to be the first South Asian American YA novel, and recently celebrated its 15th anniversary. The sequel,  Bombay Blues, received the 2015 South Asia Book Award. Can you tell us more about them?

All those years ago, when I was writing Born Confused, I didn’t realize so consciously that it was the first South Asian American YA novel. I was just trying to tell my truth. Truths. But funny how when you do that you often stumble across the truths of others.

Born Confused is a book about a teen girl, her heart, her home, her camera, her cultures…and how they all ultimately harmonize when she stops seeing things as black and white, or even shades of grey, but rather as magnificently multidimensioned and (it’s true!)…rich in color.  Set largely in the context of New York City’s bhangra / Asian Underground club scene, the story follows Indian-American heroine Dimple Lala through a summer that turns her world on its head as she tries to bring together her cultures without falling apart in the process. The book takes its title from ABCD, or American Born Confused Desi, a term used to describe these second and third generation South Asians who are supposedly “confused” about where their roots lie—and on one level is a journey towards clarity, turning that C for Confused into a C for Creative…which feels like it better describes the desis in my own life.

Born Confused is my exploration of ‘brown.’ And, many years after that, one of the reasons I wrote Bombay Blues—an exploration of ‘blue’—was to move beyond the skin. Set against the backdrop of Mumbai’s contemporary indie music and arts scene, this crossover/adult novel/sequel sees Dimple journey from New York to Bombay, and adolescence to adulthood, in a now globalized India…where she bumps against and blurs the boundaries between tradition and the modern, East and West, in a whole new way. It’s Dimple’s first experience of being brown among the brown, and her personal and artistic journey leads her to follow blue—the color, the mood, the music, on into the wild blue yonder (that of her heart as well).

In the decade between novels—during which time I also became a mother to two daughters—I explored a few other book ideas. But in the end, I suppose I missed Dimple too much; I was wondering how and where she was, what she was up to… and knew the only answer to that question would be to write it. And Bombay, it became compellingly clear, was where I could find her.

Becoming a parent myself certainly crystallized my desire to learn this part of my own parents’ history better: the city of their courtship, of my mother and brother’s birth—yet a place American-born me barely knew. I longed to write my way towards this metropolis of myth and memory—and, hopefully, into it.

In the 15 years since you wrote Born Confused, have you seen change in the YA community?

Enormous changes! Some pretty wonderful happy beginnings are happening in the world today…which is heartening, given the difficulties of our time. For example, in the world of books…well, Dimple and I didn’t have a lot of on-page company back then. Today, the literary landscape is so different—wonderfully. Far more windows and mirrors (I look at my daughters’ bookshelves and—wow! On the desi front alone: Uma Krishnaswami, Marina Budhos, Mitali Perkins, Vivek Shraya, Padma Venkatraman, Nidhi Chanani. Nisha Sharma, SJ Sindu, Samira Ahmed, Sona Charaipotra, Pooja Makhijani, Sharbari Ahmed. To name a few!)

Back when I wrote Dimple, there was no #WeNeedDiverseBooks. No #OwnVoices. (No Twitter, either.) No community for this kind of amplification and fortification. (Thank gods we have access to it now.)

Until the readers. And then…FROCK! what a blessing. Thank you to the readers, the librarians, the teachers who have nurtured Dimple (and me! and us!) through all these years. For opening your own hearts and giving us a home. For letting us choose—and write— our heroes.

And, what a revelation: WE can be heroes!

And you know, during these fraught times, we also MUST be. Our diverse, universal stories are more important than ever. Stories can be such powerful peacemakers: slipping you into the shoes of another and showing you how to walk.

Empathize.

Imagine.

And: We can write things into being, too. Show the world not only as it is but how it could be. And show yourself how you can be, too.

Are you writing any YA right now or in the near future that you may talk about?

Born Confused is set in NYC and sequel Bombay Blues in Bombay/Mumbai…and I’ve often felt there should be a third part to Dimple Lala’s story: the London book (my base for yeeears, and the beloved city from where where I wrote NYC and Bombay: a Portobello Road flat and Muswell Hill/SoHo cafs respectively). A sister city where every inch every moment you can have a multisensory experience of all the ways race, culture, art, music, diaspora, motherlands intersect. And where Asian culture is such a part of the main and sub cultures.

Funny I’ve never written about a place while in it…so maybe I’ll have to pitch home base elsewhere for that London book (and album!) to emerge…?

How are your books and music connected?

I write songs as well as fiction, and have made albums of original music connected to both my novels (‘booktracks’). When We Were Twins: songs based on Born Confused. And Bombay Spleen—songs connected to Bombay Blues. It was a natural progression for me to explore the stories in music (I was in a playing /gigging London band while writing Born Confused and had just been in one in NYC, too).

Bookwriting, songwriting: They are very much part of the same creative process for me: shining a light on the same story from different angles, and —sometimes more audibly, sometimes more visibly, sometimes in that deep humming writing silence–exploring the same questions.

And finally: What are you doing to celebrate Dimple Lala’s 15th anniversary?

Celebrating The We! Our communities, our storytellers, our culture-makers-and-shapers. With the DEEP BLUE SHE #Mutiny2Unity #MeToo #WeMix music video project—a year in the making (massive shoutout to editor Atom Fellows)—featuring 100+ artist/activists (including authors Marina Budhos; Gemma Weekes; Kat Beyer; Uma Krishnaswami; Elizabeth Acevedo; Cynthia Leitich-Smith; Paula Yoo; Sharbari Ahmed; Mitali Desai; Eliot Schrefer; Mira Kamdar; Nico Medina; Billy Merrell; Bill Konigsberg). In a way, Deep Blue She is my birthday promise to Dimple Lala: To keep celebrating the ‘skins’ we’re in, honoring our collective and individual voices. And it’s a thank you as well, to the communities I’m blessed to know and call home, for their dedication and determination to fight the good fight. To tell our stories. And be heard.

(And hopefully to offer support and concrete help so others can do so: all artist proceeds from sales of the remix at Bandcamp to charity.)

Please watch, share, and join the #MergrrrlMovement!

With thanks and love from me and Dimple.

Tanuja Desai Hidier is an author, singer-songwriter, and innovator of the ‘booktrack’ (albums of original songs to accompany her novels). Her first novel, Born Confused—considered to be the first ever South Asian American YA novel—recently turned 15. Born Confused has been hailed by Rolling Stone Magazine, Entertainment Weekly, and Paste Magazine as one of the greatest YA novels of all time (on lists including such classics as To Kill a Mockingbird, The Catcher in the Rye, Huckleberry Finn, and Little Women). Tanuja is the recipient of the 2015 South Asia Book Award (for her second novel, Bombay Blues), the James Jones First Novel Fellowship, and the London Writers/Waterstones Award, and her short stories have been included in numerous anthologies. Her most recent project— the DEEP BLUE SHE #Mutiny2Unity #MeToo #WeMix music video/PSA, based on a track from her second album, and featuring 100+ artist/activists (mostly women of color)—is now live. Outlook India calls it “The We Are The World of our times.” All artist proceeds from sales of the remix to charity. More info at: www.thisistanuja.com/DeepBlueShe

[monty-writes-things]

Basic info:

Release; 2019

Where to watch; Netflix

Episodes; 10, each around 50 minutes in run time. 

Plot: 

Return to the world of Thra, where three Gelfling discover the horrifying secret behind the Skeksis' power, and set out to ignite the fires of rebellion and save their world. [source; IMDB] 

Review

[Once again; I’m a huge fan of the franchise. This review contains spoilers.] 

I didn’t grow up with this movie. When I saw Age of Resistance on my Netflix homepage for a few weeks in 2019, I sighed with annoyance and clicked it away. It looked silly to me. Then, in 2020. I watched the movie and the series in a few days and I got hooked. With that out of the way; let’s start.

Age of Resistance is the prequel to the cult classic; The Dark Crystal. And it has every right to call itself that. The series is in many regards much better and only a little is because of the technical advances we have made since the release of the original. 

The series, much like the original movie, is done 100% with puppets and like then it’s a feast to see. The world feels real and alive, these puppets feel alive. Yes there are times when you can tell [An example would be that MOST shots are of the characters waist up] and some action scenes feel shaky and blurry because of it. But it’s because of the craft and I won’t knock down points for that. The thing they put out there is absolutely stunning and I think everyone should watch at least episode 1 once just to see the artistry. 

The good;

The show answers a lot of questions in that were raised in the movie, like why The Emperor is in such a state while the others are relatively fine. It explains what happened to the other skeksis not mentioned in the movie. It explains what the world was like before they drained all the gelfing and they give us more gelfling. This allows them to come more alive and not be overshadowed as much. In the movie, the skeksis stole the show. In Age of Resistance, all characters that are on screen have a purpose and a plot. [Though, in my humble opinion; they are still the best thing about it, sue me]. 

Another good thing is that no character is good or bad. All of them make decisions or do things that are morally grey. While the gelflings in the movie were these good pure beings, the gelfling in the show have a lot of flaws which makes them better characters. Even the podlings get more personality thanks to Hup. [Though I still don’t understand why Aughra doesn’t care about them.] 

I liked that they showed the panic that grows among the skeksis, within skekSo especially, of course coming to a boil with skekLach, skekVar and skekMal dying, showing they aren’t as immortal as they appear to be. 

I also liked the addition of skekGra and urGoh, showing that the skeksis can be more than just evil. urVa was an amazing add to show an active urRu and both him and urGoh did a lot to give their species more personality. 

The visuals are stunning and I love the nods and homages to the original movie like the skeksis feast scene. I love how they developed the characters more. I love the music, I love the voice work, I love the new uppets, I love the set pieces, I love most of the characters but we need to be critical and look at...

The Bad 

Despite the show getting a much longer run time than the movie there are still things that fall flat or don’t get answered.

For me. I always wondered why almost all gelfling were willing to turn their back on the skeksis like that. I know they saw what happened in Rian’s dreamfasting, I am aware. But these are god like creatures who ruled since forever. Aren’t there at least some who don’t believe what Rian says or shows them [I am aware of that one castle guard and Seladon but that’s two against a few hundred, which still feels too little, especially considering how long they have been ruling.]

Why are the podlings regarded as they are? They are obvious intelligent, look at Hup. Why are they treated like this?

What happened to skekUng, skekShod and skekNa? [skekLi and skekSa only appear in the books, so I’m not including them for now]. I know Ung and Na at least get mentioned but what about Shod? Especially Ung is curious to me since he’s such an important character in the movie. It would be cool to see him and slowly developing hatred against at least Sil and Zok [as he has a lot of hatred against these two in the movie]  Perhaps they planned this for season two but alas. 

Finally for the bad; I felt the Rian romantic subplot distracting. The whole thing began because he mourned his girlfriend, Mira, but in the span of only a few days he seemed to have moved on and is into Deet now. To me, that felt way too fast and left me to wonder on why they included it at all. If you remove those little scenes, the plot would remain unchanged. 

Did my complaints influence my viewing pleasure? Nope, not at all. Do I think a lot of my complaints would be solved or addressed in a second season? Absolutely. But alas, it was cancelled and this is what we have. Four and a half out of Five stars and I stand by the fact that EVERYONE should at least watch episode one just to marvel at how well it’s made.