#and that's been in the last two days. and prior to that the. I dunno. five seconds? I spent thinking ''I wonder how the NAR in FoC works''

[robotsprinkles]

how is it that I've had three people ask me for relationship advice/advice about friends' relationships?

I'm aroace. I've never been in a relationship and have no desire to be in one . and I'd be a terrible partner even if I wasn't aroace (because. like. come on. it's me)

(and yes they all know/knew I'm aroace so I don't know why they thought I was the person to ask)

[achromatophoric]

Wenclairtober 2024, Day 14 - Borrowed Clothes

Yoko: Yo bitches! I just saw the craziest shit you’re not gonna believe!

The gang pauses their eating as Yoko plops herself at their table. The vampires vibrates visibly with excitement with her fangs on full display in a manic grin.

Divina: Hey babe, whatcha got?

Yoko: Oh just some tea with a capital T. We’re talking top shelf. Loose leaf. None of that bagged shit.

Bianca: *rolls eyes* We get it. Now spill already.

Yoko: *waves everyone closer* Right. Kay. So like— picture Wednesday Addams. Dead eyes, blank face, signature braids. Five-foot-meh of concentrated spite.

Yoko: Now picture her…

Yoko: … in PINK.

Yoko: *mimes explosion*

Bianca: *sits back* Nope. That’s some fake news right there.

Divina: *tilts head* Yeah, you sure babe? Sounds far-fetched. Maybe it wasn’t Wednesday?

Ajax: Yeah I dunno. Can’t really picture it. Can you, dude?

Kent: Nah bruh. Same.

Yoko: 😧

Yoko: I’m telling the truth! These eyes have seen what they’ve seen.

Divina reaches over and playfully taps Yoko’s shades.

Divina: You sure it’s not just your shades, babe? When was the last time you cleaned them?

Yoko: *sputters* It’s not my— bitches come ON! Would I— THERE! LOOK!!

The table’s occupants look in the direction of Yoko’s frantic pointing to see Wednesday entering the Quad. The somber Addams is indeed dressed in a pink ensemble that could only belong to the girl by her side.

Yoko: SEE?! I told you bitches. Fucking. PINK!

Divina: *worriedly* Babe, are you feeling okay?

Yoko: Wh-What? Why?

The rest of the table exchange a series of concerned looks.

Yoko: What? What is it?

Bianca: Girl. Addams isn’t wearing pink.

Yoko: Whut?

Divina: Yeah babe. She’s just wearing black, like she always does.

Yoko: But—

Ajax: Did you like smoke anything funny?

Kent: Yeah, like salvia? DMT maybe?

Yoko: What the fuck—

Enid: Howdy everyone! What’s up?

Everyone turns to look at the newly arrived couple. Other than Wednesday’s alarmingly pink attire, nothing seems unusual about the two.

Yoko: ENID! Thank Tepes— you tell them!

Enid: *blinks* Tell them what?

Yoko: That Addams is wearing your clothes!

Enid: *confused* Uh… yeah? Isn’t that totally obvi?

Yoko: *to the table* Hear THAT, bitches?! What did I—

Enid: *smiles* She’s wearing my new black stuff.

Yoko: —tell y-WHAT?!

Enid: Uh. You know, so we can match? She’s just like um— well…

Wednesday: I am imbuing the clothing with my scent prior to use.

Enid: That. Thanks, babe. *affectionate kiss*

Yoko: 😨

Yoko: *distress intensifies* But— but pink!

Enid: You mean my jacket? It’s more of a magenta—

Yoko: No, PINK! *points at Wednesday* PINK!!

Divina: Sorry Enid, she’s been like this.

Bianca: Yeah, tried to sell us some fake tea.

Ajax: I’m pretty sure she smoked some salvia.

Kent: And DMT!

Yoko clutches at her hair as stands up and begins to back away from the table.

Yoko: I’m— I’m NOT smoking anything! She’s w-wearing p-pink, I tell you! PINK!!

Just then, Principal Weems strolls by. She pauses by the table to scrutinize Wednesday.

Principal Weems: Hm. That is unusual choice for you, Miss Addams.

Wednesday: What is?

The table goes silent. Expectant. Yoko cranes forward, a desperate hope etched upon her face.

Principal Weems: Your black scarf. This weather hardly warrants— MISS TANAKA! Why are you screaming?

Yoko: 😱

Yoko backpedals away from the table, whirls around, and flees, shrieking all the while. The others simply watch until the vampire is long out of sight. What follows is a brief silence and the occasional echoing cry.

Enid: *sniffs* That’ll teach her to spoil ‘Agatha All Along’ for me.

Bianca: *shakes head* Enid, you are one vindictive bitch.

Divina: Can I go tell her now?

Enid: Sure thing!

Bianca: This I gotta see.

Divina and Bianca take off after Yoko.

Principal Weems: *sarcastically* As much as I enjoy gaslighting my own students…

Principal Weems: *glares* Miss Sinclair. About those emails.

Enid: Already deleted off the cloud! You won’t have to worry about them ever getting to Mrs. A—

Principal Weems: MISS SINCLAIR!

Enid: Whoops! My bad!

Principal Weems: *grits teeth* Just— stay out of trouble.

After the principal storms away in a huff, Enid turns to Wednesday and begins to hurriedly strip off the pink outer layer of clothing.

Enid: There we go, babe. Thanks so much for doing that for me! Do you need another antihistamine?

Wednesday: I’m fine, mi corazón. And no need to thank me. Witnessing you inflict such emotional distress upon the leech was beyond exquisite.

Enid: 🥰

Ajax: Hey Enid, just wanna say that those black threads are pretty sweet.

Kent: *nods in agreement*

Enid glances at the bundle of pink in her arms.

Enid: Uh. Guys. The prank is over.

Ajax/Kent: Huh? / What prank?

Enid: 🤨

Enid: The—

Wednesday: Enid, not to alarm you, but I may have been premature in assuming I’d not need another antihistamine.

Enid: OHMYGOSH! I gotchu babe!

In a blink, Enid has a puffy-faced Wednesday over her shoulder and is racing back to their shared room. The two boys are left staring dazedly into space with eyes barely focused.

Ajax: Whoa dude… this episode of Agatha All Along is fucking wild.

Kent: Yeah, it’s like we’re actually inside it.

Ajax: Hey, got any DMT left?

Kent: Here ya go, bruh.

Ajax: Thanks, dude. I love ya. *side-hugs Kent*

Kent: *cuddles closer* Love ya too, man.

Ajax/Kent: 🤤🥰

Far away Yoko: IT WAS A FUCKING WHAT?!

[shootingstarwritings]

Body a Day #8: Football

Coach Bryce could feel his hair turning gray as he thought about the team’s current dilemma. “It’s a real shitshow,” he sighed, looking over to gauge the reaction of his beautiful coworker, Sharon Fletcher; she was a renowed researcher at the university and the target of the coach’s heart.

Ever since the two of them had met, Coach Bryce had tried to ask her out for some kind of date, but she was either oblivious or uninterested. However, such a cold reaction only served to fuel Coach Bryce’s passion.

Today, Sharon was once again uncaring to Coach Bryce’s bemoaning. She simply unzipped her lunch-bag and pulled out her meal. Bryce spoke again, voice just a tiny bit louder so she could definitely hear, “All of my players, suspended. Can you believe it?”

Finally, Sharon’s gaze met the coach’s. “All of them? Oh wow, I knew that they had done something wrong in that party last week, but I had no idea it was something of that magnitude.”

“Yeah, well… can’t say they don’t deserve it. But we’ve got a game coming up, so we’re gonna have to just concede it,” said Coach Bryce. He inwardly smiled to himself as he saw the normally stoic Sharon’s expression squeeze into a look of genuine sympathy. At least he had that small comfort in such turbulent times.

However, Sharon’s expression quickly turned into something akin to a predatory grin. A shiver went down the coach’s spine as she began to titter. “Tell me something, Coach Bryce,” she said, leaning in to whisper into his ear. “Can I trust you to keep a secret…? And also sign an NDA beforehand? I think I have a solution that’ll make both you and the Dean happy.

Coach Bryce, neck sweaty and goosebumps running down his arms, just said, “I-I’ll do whatever you want.”

~o~

The Delphi Project was the university’s pride and joy. It was also the most highly-guarded secret the university had. “Delphi was where Apollo’s oracle rested and delivered her visions of the future. It was believed to have been the center of the world by the Ancient Greeks, and…” Sharon continued the history lesson, but Coach Bryce soon stopped listening. Instead, he fumbled around with the buttons of the uncomfortable lab coat he had been given prior to entering. Not only that but the goggles were annoying as well.

“Please do not remove that,” said Sharon with a tight tone and a forced smile. “Lab policies, as I’m sure you’re aware. Right, coach?” Embarrassed, Coach Bryce gave a grunt of affirmation, and Sharon continued the tour. She continued to speak some nonsense or another before stopping in front of a large machine with two pods that resembled tanning booths connected to it. “The Delphi Project concerns itself primarily with human consciousness. Essentially, it is the next step to reaching the digitization and transfer of ‘the soul.’ Some of us here even believe that this is how humanity can reach this place called ‘Paradise,’ or ‘Nirvana.’”

“Oh yeah, heard of their music once or twice," said Coach Bryce, enthusiastic now that he could participate in the discussion. "Dunno if it’s my cup o’ Joe, to be honest, but to each their own!” he said with boisterous laughter.

Sharon’s smile seemed to grow even tighter and her voice became the tiniest bit more strained as she spoke. “Right. Well, as I was saying, the purpose of this machine is the transfer of consciousness. While we have been able to digitize and transfer the human consciousness—the soul, as some would call it—we haven’t been able to find any sort of machine with the space large enough to store it. Nothing… except for another human vessel.”

In other words, the only thing that could be transferred is one person to another. It took a few more explanations for Coach Bryce to understand that, but he got the basic idea. Once he understood that, he could guess what was Sharon’s plan.

“So what you want to do is transfer other people into the bodies of my team, so technically we can still play while still punishing the knuckleheads.” Technical or scientific knowledge wasn’t his forte, but his mind was still crafty and strategic. Once he understood all the pieces on the table, he could put them all together quickly. “Will the Dean even agree to this? Seems… kinda risky. And will my players be okay once this is all over?”

Sharon smile sweetly and assured him that all tests have shown that both parties have suffered no side-effects from the experiments they’ve done. “However, if there is even a single dissenting voice, we will not go through with the experiment. That last thing we would want to do is carry this out without anyone’s explicit consent. We are strict with ethics here. As for the Dean, I believe I can convince her. Delphi is our pride and joy, even if we can’t be out and proud about it. Of course, there is one more caveat to this whole thing you must agree to, coach.”

~o~

To say that the players were shocked and horrified would be an understatement. Coach Bryce gathered them all in the locker room to break the news, which only made their voices even more irritating as they echoed in the small room. Some of the players cried foul, others argued that his was invasive to their rights, while a few let out a few swears about letting a bunch of losers parade around in their bodies. “All right, that’s enough!” Coach Bryce shouted. “I know it’s a weird prospect, but if we want even the slightest chance of making play-offs, we can’t afford to forfeit this next game.”

As always, it was easy for the coach to rile up his players. None of them dared to argue when Coach Bryce brought up the incident that put them in this Catch-22. “And, if I’m being honest… I’ll be in the same boat as y’all,” he said, looking down to avoid his team’s shocked looks as he recounted what Sharon had told him.

“Day of the game, I’ll have to borrow your body in order to properly observe the test subjects during our most important trial run. Don’t worry, you’ll only lose your body for a weekend, at most,” Sharon had said with a most bewitching smile.

Thinking about her tone and voice as she said all of that, Coach Bryce couldn’t help but grow the slightest bit aroused. He hoped that none of his players could see how flushed he was recalling that night. Of course, he also omitted that last part—there was no need for the team to know how uneven the whole deal actually was.

“Even after all of this, we’re still a team!” Coach Bryce suddenly cried out. Not only did he need to convince those last few fence-sitters, but he also needed to distract himself before he got hard in front of all the players. He hadn’t been able to get off properly ever since a messy break-up with his former girlfriend, so Sharon’s siren voice kept bouncing around his skull.

A nice speech would be a good distraction for now. He continued to bellow out platitudes about staying together and how they were all in one boat at the end of the day. “So, please consider. This may be our chance to not throw away everything we’ve worked all semester for. Think about it. Later… we’ll put it to a vote. If we come to a unanimous vote, we’ll go through with it. So if anyone feels uncomfortable, we’ll decline and throw the match.” He retreated back to his office and took a deep breath. Already, there was a plan forming in his head.

When Coach Bryce returned to take the vote, he made sure that the votes could not be anonymous. Just by glancing at the expressions on the players’ faces, he could tell that the majority was willing to go through with it, but there were a few sparse dissenters spread throughout the crowd. However, when he asked, “All in favor?” everyone raised their hands. The peer pressure assured that their fate was sealed. Coach Bryce nodded and told the team that he’d email them Sharon’s instructions.

Later that night, Coach Bryce jerked himself off as he imagined the idea of Sharon being inside of him.

~o~

Game night came and went, and nobody in the audience nor the opposing team suspected any foul play. All the players performed as well as they usually did, baring a minor hiccup or two. The only anomaly that anyone noticed was Coach Bryce, usually watching with a red-face and barking orders at the team, was perfectly stone-faced the entire match, even when the team just barely clutched out a win.

Later, Dr. Sharon Fletcher looked down Bryce’s thick, hairy hands. Due to the various tests they’ve run with Delphi, being a male wasn’t new to her, but she was still surprised by just how masculine the coach was. “Ah, I got distracted again,” she said to herself as she returned to the report on her laptop. It was difficult to type at the speeds she was comfortable with, but that was the price to pay for valuable data at such a close distance.

“Overall, subjects found themselves quickly adapting to their new forms, which supports to the hypothesis that muscle memory is one of the most important factors during learning. It’s possible that…” Coach Bryce’s thick, masculine fingers stopped and stared at the screen. It was one of Sharon’s most frustrating part of being a scientist. She loved getting her hands on interesting data and interpreting it, but it was when she had to stop and write down her thoughts that she found herself unable to commit for long periods of time. “This will revolutionize the field of learning, but…” She let out a sigh before packing up her laptop to leave. Coach Bryce’s office, with all of its football posters, brights flags, and pictures was not the ideal environment to sit down and type out her reports. She would continue in the library tomorrow. With that settled, she left the office and began the trek to her home for the weekend.

Just before Sharon transferred into Bryce’s body, he had given her a copy of the key to his apartment. “It’d be odd if they saw my entering and leaving your home,” he had told her. Well, he had elaborated on the point for quite a while, Sharon hadn’t been interested in his hearing his logic. Her thoughts then and even now were, Why bother caring about who sees you spending time with you? It was nothing to do with how well you can do your job.

Either way, Sharon took the bus to and allowed his muscular legs to carry her to Bryce’s apartment. She thought about it as another opportunity to further her research, but there was something so fascinating about just moving about with Coach Bryce. His natural, mature gait was addicting. Just for research’s sake (her own fun), she continued to walk around the hallways and even up the stairs, forgoing the elevator. Even after climbing several stories, she didn’t even feel the least bit tired. In her old body, she would’ve been halfway dead and anemic by the time she reached Bryce’s apartment, but now she was hardly out of breath. Fascinating, she thought to herself, mistaking her lust for curiosity.

Without thinking, Sharon made her way to Bryce’s apartment and began to shed off his clothes until her borrowed body was clad in nothing but a shirt and a pair of boxers. Oh, huh… I hadn’t meant to take off so much of his clothes, she thought to herself, but her body had moved without her knowledge. Still, Sharon saw no reason to not allow it to continue. It was better to allow the body to continue its natural habits.

It was for that reason that, after drawing a bath, Sharon dipped Coach Bryce’s into the bathtub and relaxed his sore muscles. “Phew… oh, this feels so nice,” said Sharon. After such a long day of experiment, research, and overworking herself, it was nice to relax in a bath. If she could, she would spend all day in a bath and enjoy this nice, burly body. She raised his arms and rested them behind his head, apparently a natural position for the coach to be in with a bath. With soap and a loofah sponge, Sharon explored Bryce’s body. His personality wasn’t anything special, but she enjoyed the way that his body moved whenever he worked out in the gym or in the field outside in the lawn. The sweat dripping from his bearded chin was nice. Usually, Sharon wasn’t really interested in dating men, but their bodies were nice to look at.

And, as she groped and massaged various parts of Bryce’s body, Sharon realized just how nice it was to touch them like this. “Ohh… ohh…! Oh my god!” Somehow, this was the most sensitive body she had ever transferred into. Was the coach simply that much more sensitive than the other hosts, or was the process itself magnifying the sensitivity to touch? Sharon’s scientific mind was going on overdrive while just about every part of her was busy indulging in Coach Bryce’s appealing and overly sexual body. “C-Coach Bryce, y-you’re so… ngh… ahh…!” The moans that escaped his lips drove Sharon insane as well. It became a feedback loop: Sharon, hoping to draw out more data and more moans from Coach Bryce groped his body, which only drew out more automatic moans from her borrowed lungs.

It was also the strength and the sheer amount of command that Sharon had. The thick, almost sausage-like, fingers and powerful core and moved at her command. Coach Bryce was like a glove for her to put on, nothing more. The power behind it was intoxicated. Each muscle obeyed Sharon, and it was because she deserved it.

Coach Bryce’s body stiffened as it felt the inevitable happen. The waves of pleasure that nearly threaten to shatter her very mind. Sharon grit her borrowed teeth, groans of guttural and masculine ecstasy only just barely restrained for the first few torrents of cum that launched high into the air. However, Sharon could not contain it for much longer. She tilted her head back, tongue sticking out as Coach Bryce’s hips thrust on their own as the last of the world-shattering climax erupted through the jiggling, hairy frame.

This is the first time I’ve ever masturbated with such intensity, Sharon thought to herself. She had explored the other test subjects—other professors and coaches at the univerity—and Coach Bryce was definitely her favorite. She had to test out just how and why his body was so sensitive. Yes, she needed more tests. She needed to take over the bodies of all her previous test subjects and continue to explore and compare the pleasure that came from each of them. Only then would her hunger for pleasure and data—two things that were basically the same to her—would be satiated.

Of course, that should be easy to accomplish. Just about every person in campus owes me a favor, and the Dean will certainly enjoy this delicious data—especially if I record it all for her. I wonder how much freedom I can have if I offer to give the Dean such an opportunity? I’m sure she’ll love it now that we know it’s perfectly safe.

Sharon sighed and sank even further into the warm, now slightly milkier, water. Her new muscles certainly seemed to enjoy the sensation. Now all she had to do was to just enjoy the weekend in the perfect body for it.

[4drianaaaa]

You should do a cutsie thing about y/n and hamzahs anniversary going on a date and maybe some nsfw 🫶🏼

omg this so adowable 😙, also I was looking at my posts about Hamzah and I just realized it's mostly smut LMFAOO. YOU HORNY MUTHUFUCKAS (I have no problem with that 👅)

nsfw! 18+ | fem reader!

🎀 | It has been a year since the boy who asked you out in the most puppy love-type way. Bringing a bouquet of tulips and a big poster that you checked 'yes' on to be his girlfriend. Now the two of you live together in his small apartment with his cat peter.

You dabbed on some blush at the apple of your cheek as you saw your boyfriend through the mirror as his warm hands wrapped around your waist "How did I get with someone so beautiful?" he kissed your cheek, "Careful Hamzah I'm gonna stain your shirt" you placed the blush powder on the counter of the sink as you shifted your body to his as he sat you on the counter "So your not gonna answer my question?" he huffed as you kissed his soft lips "Maybe cause' your so hot? I don't know?!" you ruffled his hair.

You wore a simple short black dress pairing it with a small white bag, the both of you were now on your way to the restaurant he has reserved a week prior. You both went to a small booth as the place looked like nothing but rich. You looked at shocked “Hamzah this looks so fancy- where did you find this place” you took a sip of the white wine in front of you prepared at the table once you walked in “i dunno’. I searched up ‘expensive, fancy, romantic restaurant on Google and this one popped up!” He replied as he smirked “just get what ever. It’s all on me baby” he set his hand on top of yours as his thumb rubbed on the sparkly diamond on your ring he gave you in the morning.

The two of you chatted as you both ate the most delicious dinner enjoying your self’s company and laughing about memories of you two.

“I remember the first day I moved in with you, there was a big mess.” You teased as he huffed “alright babe. May I remind you that I barely moved in as well and I was so overwhelmed! Not to mention I was raising Peter too.” He spun the wine in his cup as he took the last sip “and you act like it wasn’t a mess in my bedroom when you barely got here…bra on my floor-“ you cut him off by stepping on his shoe “Hamzah! We’re literally in public” you turned as red as the wine you were sipping on as he couldn’t help but bust out laughing. His thoughts grew as his tongue poked the inside of his cheek. “what?” You tilted your head as lustful memories filled his mind. The way he’d roam his hand all over you as you squirmed under him, “nothing” he said clearing his throat as the waiter ended his thoughts “here’s the bill” Hamzah placed his card on to the receipt as the waiter took it off with him.

“Thank you so much baby for the dinner, i enjoyed every second of it” you kissed his cheek as he said nothing. Your eyebrows furrowed. “So you’re not gonna tell me what’s on your mind? Was it because I stepped on your shoe. Crybaby?” You said closing the car door “Fuck, I just need you so fucking bad- I don’t know how I contained my self over there.” He exhaled as you smirked “so that’s what it is hm?” Your hands roamed down his chest as you kissed his lips “I have a surprise back at home too” you whispered into his ear that sent a cold shiver down his spine. He sped through the night Toronto streets as you made it to your shared apartment. His lips not even trying to leave yours as you struggled to open the door

“Fuck” he panted licking his lips as he opened the door shutting it behind him as you walked to your bedroom as your hands wrapped around his neck as he removed his black blazer throwing it onto the floor. Your lips parted as he sat at the edge of the bed “wanna show me what’s under this gorgeous dress princess?” He laid his hands around your waist as you turned your back to him “find out” you said moving your hair to the side as he slowly zipped down your dress as the cold air hit your back causing your breath to hitch. His eyes widened at your white lacy lingerie with little bows everywhere. He practically drooled as you spun back around to him as you smiled as he pulled you into him “your so beautiful baby” he grasped “yeah?” You hummed as he nodded his head twirling his fingers around your lacy panties biting his lip.

He unbuttoned his pants leaving him in his boxers as he laid you onto the bed. As you began removing your bra he immediately grabbed your hand stopping you, “I want to fuck you in this pretty set baby- please just leave it on” he whined as you nodded. His hands palmed his hard dick as you opened your legs just wanting him inside you already. He bit his lip as he pulled down his boxers revealing his erected member as pre-cum coated his tip, “fuck Hamzah please!” You begged as a smile creeped onto his lips. He rubbed his tip against your clothes panties as you cursed under your breath. He looked at you as you moved your pantie to the side begging for his dick to be inside you already, he slowly rubbed his member around your aching clit as small whines escaped your lips. He slowly inserted him self into you as you grabbed onto the white sheets of your shared bed “fuck baby, your soaking” he moaned “just fuck me Hamzah” you squirmed around as he held onto your hips as he entered in and out of you. Your hand flew on top of your mouth as skin slapping against each other and small moans and whimpers escaped both of your mouths filled the room.

He leaned down kissing your neck as your hands gripped onto his hair tightly “fuck Hamzah I’m so close!” You moaned into his ear as he nodded “yes baby” he whined as you felt your self at your highest as you panted, his mouth found your chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck before coming all over him “holy shit.” He grunted as he quickly thrusted into you as your body shook from the over stimulation. He pulled out before coming as he pumped his aching member on your lingerie set.

“Looks so much better coated all over my cum” he teased as you chucked “how about a warm bath? Cause I know you can’t stand” he joked as he noticed your shaky legs “sounds good” you kissed his forehead as he laid next to you.

-

I feel like this was so short omg 😣

[billthedrake]

SUGAR DADDY (PART TWO)

The next day I was a little bit of a wreck. Still coming down from the high of my fantasy time with Mike Keenan. Sucking his cock. Kissing him. Enjoying the privacy and the deep conversation. I thought of texting him but decided that wouldn't be welcome. It hadn't been a date, it had ust been something that had happened. A combination of Mike taking pity on me and wanting to get his rocks off. We both got something out of it, but it was surely a one-time thing.

I had class that next morning and baseball practice that afternoon, then weightlifting. It was early evening when I got done and saw I had a text from Mike.

"Hi Luke, sorry no contact, I had a long day here. Enjoyed last night. Any chance for a repeat some time?"

My heart pounded. Maybe I was the one overthinking things. Mr. Keenan just wanted his cock sucked again.

"I'd love that," I wrote.

"Nice," came the reply. "You around to talk?"

I said good night to my buddies and told them I had to get back to study for a test. Then I texted a "yes" to Mike. A second later my phone rang.

"Hey," I said. God, I was majorly crushed out on the guy.

"Hey Luke," he said. His voice was sexy as fuck. "What are you up to?"

"Just getting out of practice. Bout to grab some dinner."

"I haven't eaten either. Want to come over? We can get dinner in the hotel bar."

"I probably need to change," I said. I was still in my workout clothes.

"I bet you look sexy as fuck," he growled. It was a trip to hear him lust for another man. "But take your time."

"Yeah, I probably shouldn't go to some fancy bar in my gym clothes."

"They don't give a fuck," he said. "But do what you feel comfortable with."

"All right," I said. "I'll text you when I'm on my way."

"Take an Uber," he said. "I'll pay."

"OK." Then I hung up. I was going to object, but I was eager to see the man. And truth be told I was hungry, real hungry. Maybe that's what made me decided to head right over, underdressed as I was.

"OK, I'm getting in my Uber," I typed to him five minutes later.

He sent a smiley face reply.

The man was in his suit, without tie, on one of the bar stools and his eyes lit up as I walked in. He had a smirk as I set down my backpack and pulled out the adjacent stool to sit. "I was right," he said softly. "Sexy as fuck."

I blushed. "I didn't think you went for guys that way," I whispered.

His blue eyes twinkled some as he patted my back. "No labels, remember?"

I was getting hard in my shorts. Unfortunately the thin fabric wasn't going to hide my boner, but fortunately, it was hidden by the bar. And my hunger was going to win out.

"The steak here is great," the man said as he handed me a menu.

"I dunno," I said as I looked over the option. "A burger is fine." Of course I was concerned about the price.

Mr. K could read me, though. "Get the steak," he grunted.

I felt a little chastised and said something I instantly regretted. "Is that how the Sugar Daddy treatment works?"

Mike gave me a quick glance then replied without missing a beat. "Buddy, you don't eye me up like a cash machine like those girls do. You don't know how nice a change that is."

I blushed and I felt his hand pat my bare thigh.

"I like that I can be honest with you, Luke, for real." His bossy tone was gone, replaced with the old Mr. Keenan charm.

I gulped. "I like being honest with you, too," I said. Until Mr. Keenan re-entered my life six months prior, I hadn't realized how rare it was I could be honest about things. I gave him a smile and saw him smile in return.

"Since I'm being honest," I started, but just then the bartender came over to take our order.

"Two steaks," Mr. Keenan said, ordering for me. "And another scotch and..." he turned to me.

"An IPA?" I asked. The bartender nodded and named off some brewery. Sounded good. We watched as he poured our drinks in front of us and placed them on the bar before going off to ring up our order.

"So..." Mike picked up. "Since you're being honest..."

I lowered my voice. "It's like I said before. You don't need to pay for anything, Mike. Or be a sugar daddy or anything."

He grinned. "There's always trade offs," he said. "And maybe I enjoy the control."

"Control?" I asked dumbly.

"If you're paying, you get your say in a lot of things," he said. He paused and watched me blush. "You think less of me."

"Honesty, right? You don't know how crushed out I am on you."

He smiled. "I have an idea. It's flattering." He took a sip of his scotch and looked over at me like a wolf eyeing up his prey. "I'm hoping you stay over tonight."

I was in over my head. Emotionally, but also with a man like Keenan. Decisive. "If you want, I will," I said.

"Good," he said, satisfied.

***

Mike Keenan surprised me that evening. After we ate and he paid the check, we went up to our room. We showered together, making out, feeling each other up. I was surprised how much this straight man was into my very male body and my cock. Well, he was probably bi and in any case had his no-labels motto. I was gonna embrace it.

Particularly as we made out on the bed, me beneath his middle aged, fit hairy body. I'd eventually find a real boyfriend, I knew, but I also knew it was going to be hard for any man to live up to hot how Mr. K was. His cock felt hard and even bigger as we humped our bodies together and kissed.

"So, Luke... you up for me being inside you?"

I nodded, hungrily. "God yeah, Mr. Keenan."

He grinned. "You have much experience?" That concern coming in.

"A couple of guys, yeah," I said. Then with deep candor, I added, "I wish you'd taken my cherry, Mike."

His voice got husky. "I've done anal a couple of times. With an ex-girlfriend."

His words made me actually break out into goosebumps. For some reason the idea of Mr. K doing some woman in the backdoor seemed kinky as fuck. But also the way he unmistakeably was communicating that he knew how to fuck me. "You liked it, I bet," I said with a lusty smile.

He nodded and winked just as he leaned up and knelt on the bed. His hardon looked magnificent, the thickness perfectly framed by his hairy, DILF-y body. I decided then and there I'd have a hard time sleeping with a man under 40. "Oh, yeah, buddy," he said. Then my body shivered again as I watched the confidence with which he picked up the lube he'd set out next to the bed. As he returned his focus, I pulled back my legs and spread them some, letting his slick hand in to lube up my hole. "It's probably my favorite thing. Hard to talk a woman into it, though."

"I can imagine," I hissed, enjoying the cool contact of the lubed finger on my ring. "I bet that costs extra huh?" Maybe that sounded accusatory, but from my tone it was clear that it was a joke, and Mr. Keenan picked up on that.

He laughed. "I don't hire hookers, but don't think I haven't thought about it." His cock jerked, and I was relieved that being with a dude seemed to work for him as much as fucking a chick.

He pressed in and worked me open some. "That feel OK, buddy?"

I looked at him excitedly and nodded. I kept expecting resistance as the man fingered me but there was none. At all. "Feels amazing Mr. K." My longtime nickname for him just slipped off my tongue, but the man seemed excited to hear it. His cock actually jerked.

He now slipped in a third finger, twisting me open and working in and out. "You're ready," he said, though I knew there was a questioning behind his assured tone.

"Yes, sir," I hissed.

Mike was horny, too, I realized as he scooted in to place and nudged his meaty cock right into place. I don't know the approach he took with women, but he angled his finger to let his prick push in just as he withdrew his hand. Kind of a shoehorn move that slid his meaty cock right into me. Three solid inches inside me in one go.

"There ya go," he said with satisfaction. Then he moved forward, his hips driving more meat into me, as he leaned his upper body forward. I was getting well and truly penetrated.

The thing was, my insides were starting their natural resistance, my guts clenching down on the invader and trying to repel it. Mr. Keenan mistook my discomfort for a natural stimulation of an ass on his cock. "That's goddamn nice, buddy," he hissed and like that he was kissing me, hard and possessively.

I met his tongue as well as I could, but there was something that clicked in me. I was a dude, a masculine dude. I didn't like to think of myself as feminine, and I got offended by the way people would associate gay sex with being feminized. And yet, I was pinned down beneath Mike Keenan and all I could think was to compare myself to those college chicks Mike banged. My hole relaxed around him and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Not slutty or anything, but damn I needed and wanted a Mike Keenan fuck.

He must have sensed the change but in any case pulled back from the kiss. "I guess I didn't even ask about protection," he hissed, his hips slowly pumping me.

"This is perfect, Mr. K," I growled. His dick was rubbing right over my prostate, not punching the button, but playing it like a violin string. It was a surprisingly new sensation for me.

The man liked my answer. He pulled back, further back, and pushed all the way. Then again. Not rushing it, but definitely claiming me with this cock. All the while his blue eyes bore down on mine. "How do you normally like it, Luke?" he asked.

I racked my brain. It was actually hard to think with the man's cock pressing in and out. And I'd only had a few experiences bottoming. "Slow, I guess," I replied. But then as I felt up the man's naked torso and strong arms, I wanted more. "But this is weird to ask... but I'd like you to show me how I like it."

THAT turned Mike on like crazy. "Yeah?" His nostrils flared. "I can do that buddy."

He pulled back and I felt his prick punch into me. In retrospect it probably wasn't rough, but I'd never been fucked with that much force. Then another. Slow, steady, and hard.

The fact that it was Rich's dad doing this drove me wild. I looked up into his handsome face and imagined him rough fucking some sugar baby who'd have to work for her apartment money.

"Shit!" I gasped. My prick was dripping already, a telltale sign that I was about to cum. I gripped it, just in time to let the pleasure boil to a full orgasm, all while Mr. Keenan pounded it out of me.

His own face was scrunching into a clear sign of pleasure. The man was ejaculating into my guts, and good.

"Well, fuck me," he sighed as he lay his forehead against mine. We lay like that, my hands on him and my legs wrapped around him. His more mature, fit body resting on top of me as he caught his breath. "Please tell me you liked that buddy," he hissed.

I felt weirdly emotional. I don't know, it wasn't just the crush I had on Mr. K. It was the hormonal rush on top of the mind fuck of having had such hot sex. "A little too much," I admitted.

That made him smile.

He finally leaned up and slid out of me, and off me. His dick was thick and plump but softening, and very wet. He looked down on me with a mix of surprise, paternal-like affection, and pride in conquest. I loved it all, and it was then that I realized I was hooked on the Mike Keenan experience.

"I thought I was pushing my luck asking you to meet me again," he said as he stepped off the bed and down some water from a water bottle. His middle-aged muscle was covered in a sheen of sweat. The man was sexy as fuck. His eyes barely left my nakedness. "But I guess not," he continued.

I felt all sorts of weird, and more than a little cheap now that the endorphins were wearing off. I sat up in bed, my hole feeling used and wet now. "You really do like being on control, don't you, Mike?"

My words caught him by surprise. "I guess I come on strong, huh?"

"A little," I admitted. "I should probably go," I said as I searched for my briefs.

"Will it make you feel better to stay over?" he asked.

It was my turn to be surprised. "You think I'm like a chick?" I asked. I wasn't sure I was upset he was stereotyping me as a gay guy. Or upset because maybe he was right.

"It's just a question, Luke," he replied. "I'll give you Uber money."

I swallowed my pride. "I'd love to stay. Sorry I was giving you grief."

He smiled. "It's fine buddy. I'm used to game playing. But you're a straight shooter. I like that." Then matter of factly, he added, "I get up early."

"That's cool," I said.

****

I gave Mr. K a blowjob early the next morning. And he stroked me off. I guess I was leaning toward being a bottom before Mike Keenan, but I'd never embraced the label. What the fuck, the man was making me realize the shoe fit.

I was happy and content all day. I kind of wanted a text from Mr. K, but I didn't need one. Even being young and naive, I knew I had to take this for what it was, or not at all.

Around 5:30 I got a text. "Dinner?"

I had a late game and plans with my buddies. "I'm tied up, Mike," I wrote. "Sorry."

"What time you done?" came that reply.

"I don't know. 10?"

"Come over then. You know the room number."

Maybe it should have rubbed me the wrong way, but it didn't. I was horny for this man. So bad.

Only after I replied with an OK, I got a Venmo alert. Mr. K had sent me money. Not an exhorbitant amount. But a lot.

Oh shit.

***

I was nervous as Mike ushered me in. The worst part was how fucking handsome he looked, even in his readers and plush hotel bathrobe. He didn't look exactly sleepy, but he seemed in a relaxed, tired state as he looked me up and down.

"Thanks for coming, Luke," he said. That easygoing charm I remember from going over to his place when I was visiting my buddy Rich.

"Sure," I said. Looking around, I wondered what it was like to live in a hotel like this a few nights a week, always being on the road. I smelled Mr. Keenan's cologne before I felt his hand on my shoulder and his warm body press against my back. Already he was kissing softly at my neck.

"Listen, Mr. K... can we talk about the money thing?"

His voice had a throaty growl. Maybe he'd been thinking all evening, all day about sex, because he seemed to be in a horny mode. "Sure. Was it not enough?"

"No, Jesus," I hissed, feeling his fingers already running beneath the hem of my T-shirt tracking my abs. "I don't need anything. For real."

OK, now his fingers stopped their seductive movement. I guess the man was getting it. "You offended?" he asked.

I blushed. "I dunno," I replied. "It didn't make me feel great."

I felt his breath against my neck. "You deserve the money more than Kimberly," he said. "Or the others. It's just a little something, Luke. Use it to have fun. Or save it for a rainy day."

I don't know how Mike Keenan was so persuasive a man, but he was. Maybe because those fingers are once again tracing up my abs and pulling my shirt with them. "Come on, buddy, let me see that hot baseball jock body," he urged.

I went with it. I knew I was good looking, and even if I had some bulking goals for the off season, I knew I had a solid body. But the fact Mr. Keenan was into it had me so turned on. I turned around to see a smile on his five-o-clock-shadowed face.

"Nice," he said, eyes sweeping up and down my build. "Lose the shorts, Luke," he said.

Mr. K had talked about enjoying being in control. I was now wrestling with the fact that I enjoyed being bossed around, at least by this man. I stepped back and undid my shorts, stripping down completely for him. I was rock hard.

My heart pounded as I watched Mike get a more serious look on his face, as his hands reached down to undo the tie on the robe. The white terry cloth flapped open to show off his furry fit torso and, beneath that, his thick boner. "Come on buddy," he said in a deep whisper, nodding down at his crotch in an unmistakable signal.

I gulped. I assumed my normal catcher's squat, a position which made my hard dick stick up at an angle.

"Fuck yeah," Mike said. He scooted up to offer me his prick. It was fat and veiny, and while not porn-long that dick was pretty damn big.

I leaned forward just an inch to start licking him. Top to bottom. Along his furry nuts. Tasting every inch of Mike Keenan. Maybe his relaxed vibe gave me the implicit permission to take my time.

Only by the time I actually began sucking him, working my mouth up and down on him and doing my best to coordinate suction and tongue along his shaft, the man was starting to get worked up.

"Easy there, buddy," he hissed, gently pushing me off his dick, which throbbed and jerked a little, wet with my saliva. "I almost blew there."

I grinned. I felt so fucking proud. I didn't have a ton of sexual experience and it was good to know I was doing something right to get Mike so close so soon. "Why don't you?" I asked, sitting back on my haunches and looking up at him. I was getting more confident in having sex with this older man.

He let out a heavy sigh, like he was fighting off the urge to do just that. A smile crossed his lips, though. "Guess I'm like a kid with a new toy," he explained.

It took me a second to get it. "You wanna fuck me again." Half statement, half question.

Mike nodded. "Been thinking about it all fucking day, man. Your ass is so fucking tight."

I knew this was a possibility, and I wondered if I should be giving my hole some rest. But I also knew it was going to be hard to turn down a Mr. Keenan fuck. I stood up, my dick riding that crest between pure excited hardness and nervous flagging.

"Ok if we kiss a little, Mike?" I asked feeling almost embarrassed to ask. "You know, make out a little?"

My buddy's dad nodded and grinned as he stepped up to me, placing his hands on my waist. "I guess I can come on strong, huh?" he asked.

God, feeling his dick press against mine and the heat and the soft-hard combo of fur and muscle against me was going to drive me wild. "Some, yeah," I admitted with a laugh. Then blushing, I added, "Part of me really likes it, but fuck it's intimidating too, you know?"

Mike didn't reply but just gave a sympathetic nod and leaned in for a soft kiss. We made out some, and it was incredible to feel the contrast between the gentle approach kissing and the mauling of his hands on my jock body, particularly my butt. Mr. K wasn't kidding about having a new toy. He seemed to really love my ass.

He walked me back to the bed and I went back down on the mattress with a motion of his that was between guiding and pushing. He quickly lost his bathrobe and joined me, covering my body with his older, more experienced one, feeling me up and kissing along my neck, my ear, my upper chest. Mike was in full-on horny mode and bring me there right with him.

Finally he lifted off and rolled to the side. His erection was dripping and rock hard and looked amazing against all that body hair. "All right buddy, get on all fours."

I was primed for Mike Keenan in full on control mode. I scrambled to do as the man asked, facing the headboard and feeling the man settle in behind me. Already his hands were cupping my glutes and feeling the smooth muscle.

"You got a hot fucking ass, Luke," he growled. He pawed at me another few seconds then reached for some lube. The first wet finger felt great, and went in pretty easy.

"You're looser today, buddy," Mike hissed. A second finger popped in.

"Yeah, probably," I responded. "After yesterday."

"I wanna keep you this way," came his deep voice. "Ready for me."

"Oh fuck, Mr. K," I whined. There was an edge to his tone that drove me wild. And as his prick pushed in, I felt a welcome pleasure, even with my residual tightness.

"Fuck yeah," Mike grunted as he felt my insides and pushed to bottom out. "Right back in the saddle."

His grip clenched roughly on my waist. Just as quickly as that thick cock pulled out, it barreled back in. And again. One hard thrust right after the other as Mr. K grunted deeply. "Ung. Ungh. Ung."

The man was fucking for his pleasure, not mine. Still I felt an excited thrill. I wouldn't say I enjoyed this nearly as much as the missionary mating the night before but it felt new to me. Animalistic and raw. I was hard even with the discomfort of the shafting.

Wham. Wham. Wham. That thick piece of hard dad meat was drilling steadily. Then the cadence went off. Mr. Keenan's rhythm was getting more spasmodic and jerky as he pounded me. Then I felt those fingers dig into my hips.

"FUCK!"

From his cry and the sudden stop of his thrusts, I knew the man was seeding me.

I loved every part of the experience, but I now regretted that I hadn't gotten off. The fuck had been too hard and too quick.

Thankfully I felt the man shift behind me and, prick still buried inside me, he leaned forward to press against, my back.

I loved the feeling of his kiss on my neck, but even more I loved the slickness of his palm as he wrapped his hand around my hardon. Mike didn't even need to do much. Just give slow soft pumps in and out of my guts while his fingers ran along my dick. I fired off, heavy and hard. I felt lightheaded when I came.

We were quiet as we uncoupled. The shame was coming back to me as I showered off. Shame that I enjoyed what others might see as a dominant, selfish fuck. Shame that there were funds in my Venmo account. Shame that I was falling for Mr. Keenan so hard. I knew I couldn't stay over in this hotel room, not tonight. I needed some space to think.

Mike had his robe back on. To this day a white terry bathrobe is a fetish for me. His tone was more serious. "You mad at me Luke?" he asked as he sat in the hotel chair and watched me get dressed.

I grimaced but shook my head no. "I didn't think I'd like sex that rough," I said softly.

I could see a sly grin from on his lips. But he continued. "I wasn't talking about the fuck."

God, the man could be intense, behind the suave businessman outgoingness and the friendly paternal vibe. It was like I was seeing the real Mr. Keenan. Intimidating, sure, but I also wondered if he had a hard time with real relationships. His marriage hadn't worked out, he was clearly estranged from his son, and he basically hired dates instead of having real girlfriends.

I paused, just holding the T shirt I was going to put back on. "Can I be blunt, Mr. K? You say you don't want a hooker, and yet have a way of treating me like one."

He was prepared for that. "You're not that, Luke. But I'm not ready for anything serious. I figure I can help you out, and you can help me out." He looked at me and could tell I still didn't get it. "Listen, it's not just sex. I love spending time with you buddy. You're a hell of a lot more fun than those sugar babies, I'll tell ya." He cracked a smile, and I had to as well.

"I guess," I said. Remembering Kimberly, I could imagine she'd be more work than fun.

My conciliatory tone made him happy, and I was glad to see the friendly Mr. Keenan return. "Well, it's just I don't always have the time or interest for all the other boyfriend bullshit. Checking in, looking after emotional needs, dealing with jealousy."

I gulped. I was starting to get a better picture of Mike. The side Rich hated. The side I should hate more.

He watched my reaction but continued. "I know that wouldn't be fun for you to deal with, so I want to make it worth your while."

"Make what worth my while?" I asked. Again, as persuasive as he was, I felt he kept talking around the sex part.

He laughed, almost amused at how astute I was. "Luke, I'm not going to pay you per sex act. Or per night. But..." his voice got conspiratorial. I wondered if he knew what that supportive dad-figure tone did for me, and just weaponized it to get his way. Honestly I think it just came naturally to him. "Well, bud, I'd love an arrangement when you're able to keep me company when I'm in DC." His blue eyes got an impish cast to them, and I knew he was in seal-the-deal mode. "I'm pretty sure we could have a lot of fun together."

"You wanna be my sugar daddy?" I asked, point blank. It's not that I was dumb, but I actually didn't think Mr. Keenan was outright going there.

He nodded. But his face had a caution to it. "Would it better if we ditched the labels?" he asked, a smirk on his face reminding me of his own no-labels policy.

"It would," I answered. Then. "OK if I think on it, Mike?"

"Of course," he said.

He stood up as I finished putting on my shoes. Seeing how handsome he was I almost asked if I could stay over again. But the vibe wasn't right for that.

As I made my way to the room door, Mr. K patted my shoulder. "You're a fine young man, Luke," he said. His fingers gave my muscle a little squeeze before letting go. "I mean that."

"Thanks, Mr. Keenan," I said.

***

The Uber ride was quick at that time of night. I'd have to come up with an excuse to my roommate while I was out again. I'd probably have to come up with a lot more excuses if I hung out more with Mr. K. Or, if he got me my own apartment, things would be easier. Meeting up with him. Having sex with him.

I pulled out my phone. I thought I'd hesitate before sending but I knew I knew my answer.

"You'll have to let me know how it works Mr. K," I texted. "But I'm in."

No labels. But if Mike Keenan was going to call himself my sugar daddy that was probably OK too.

I got a quick reply. "That makes me happy Luke. Talk tomorrow sexy."

I felt warm inside. Mike Keenan was going to make this worth my while. But I was determined to make it worth his, too.

[zahri-melitor]

I will say, having personally just gone through all of the various Robins' official first patrols to write a fic, Robins is particularly irritating as it doesn't even bother to actually pick out the correct 'first patrols' for various characters.

Because a first patrol is not the character's initial story; it's the first time they're allowed out as Robin, wearing their own costume. It's not Zucco for Dick and Ma Gunn for Jason and ALPOD for Tim and Batman and Son or Battle for the Cowl for Damian. It's about Bruce thinking they're ready to patrol with him.

Yes, good job, you identified Batman Chronicles: The Gauntlet for Dick and have based this story off that concept. Except:

For post-Crisis Jason, his first patrol as Robin was actually tracking down Two-Face in Batman #410 & 411, in which he finds out that Willis Todd was a Two-Face henchman. It's not Felipe Garzonas. That's Batman #424-425 and Jason's last storyline before A Death in the Family. If you want Garzonas to be Jason's first patrol, then his time as Robin was even shorter than I like to say it was. He's out there beating Steph in terms of 'it was measured in days'.

For Tim: look there are like three separate options for pitching a 'first patrol'. You can go with Batman: Identity Crisis (Batman #455-457) where Tim tracks down Bruce and Vicky Vale after they've been kidnapped by Scarecrow, and received his own costume at the end of it; you can go with Robin I and Tim's adventures in Paris with Clyde Rawlins, Shiva and King Snake; or you can go with Batman #465, Debut, where Tim and Bruce explicitly have their first patrol together and track down Ginny Gray trying to shoot an actor at a charity event.

What does Seeley go for? Weirdly mashing up Rite of Passage with Batman: Identity Crisis rather than actually focusing on one or the other. He also randomly gives a name to the Obeah Man.

For Steph there simply isn't that much material as Robin (which is why you'll see I actually picked what I think is Steph and Bruce's first patrol together, rather than their time as Batman & Robin). I'd actually probably pick out Tiger Moth over Scarab for Steph patrolling with Bruce as Robin as a 'first patrol' in Robin #127 if you twisted my arm, but Scarab is certainly where Bruce once again decided that Steph did not live up to expectations in Robin #128.

For Damian: realistically again his first patrol as ROBIN is with Dick in Batman & Robin #1 2009 (so Professor Pyg). His first with Bruce is Batman & Robin #1 2011 (and NoBody). Anything prior to the conclusion of Battle For the Cowl/Red Robin #1 should not count, just as ALPOD or all of Tim's time as Little Bat doesn't count. Batman & Son is absolutely not Damian's 'gauntlet', and this analysis misses slight factors like I dunno, poor dead Spook?

"Was that a moment of mercy?" Well I dunno Seeley, but given that only a couple of pages earlier Damian cut off the Spook's head, brought it back to the Cave, shoved a grenade into the mouth and then waved it at Tim to frighten him (before accidentally dropping the head, the grenade pin falling out, and blowing up): discussions of mercy in this title are bit ridiculous if you ignore that aspect.

[happyk44]

hermes is on vacation so nico gets some mortal substitute familiar with demigods and the greek pantheon as his doctor and when he calls him up for a visit, dude's like "well hermes didn't really tell me what was up with you because. you know. doctor/patient confidentiality. but he did tell me that if my gut instinct is "you're too young to have that" i should remember that you are apparently over a hundred years old, and if i don't believe that, i should remember he looks like a 25 year old twink but is old enough that he can describe my great grandfather's penis to me in detail. so! what's up with you"

and nico just pulls out this binder from his backpack, slaps it onto the desk and opens it up. the first page is a print out from a powerpoint presentation, the title reading "What Is Wrong With Nico", a subtitle of "aka the old man bones are old man boning", with a smaller subtitle several spaces below reading "current as of: right the fuck now"

the next page is four tables under the title "Ways He Is Broken". the tables depict:

his current diagnosis and the date of diagnosis

his current medications, the amount, and to what problem they correspond

things he's already been tested for that didn't pan out and why he was tested for them

previous medications he was on, the amount and why he was taking them (also includes current meds where the amount was changed)

the next page is titled "How The Fuck Is He Not Dead" and then a bullet pointed list summarizing all his traumas and other minor shit he's been through that has been attached as the cause(s) behind his issues, so like sandwiched between "nearly suffocated to death while trapped in a jar" and "had to shadowtravel across the atlantic ocean with a giant statue and two other people (prior limit was myself going from new york to illinois)" there's a point stating "fell over on the crows nest of a flying boat and dislocated my wrist". next to each bullet point there are coloured dots going to the left. some bullet points only have one, some have two - they are all colour coded to correspond to the ailment(s) in which they apply.

the next page is called "What Is He Up To These Days" and it's just a long list detailing all his diagnosed symptoms - again little circles beside each point to colour code to the corresponding ailment. the column next to it is labelled "new symptoms" and consists of three bullet points: getting dizzy when i stand up, started two months ago once a week, now every time i stand; migraines are back, made me cry in the shower last night, need new meds probably; and, got hit in the rib by a hydra's tail last month, reset my rib myself and eating ambrosia squares, but still hurts really bad, don't think it's healing right

the next page is "What Could Kill Him So Don't Use It*" and it's just a few columns labelled "pet allergies" "food allergies" "drug allergies" "magic allergies" "other allergies" and the only one that has something included is food allergies and it's just the bullet point "garlic intolerant but he's fucking italian so he doesn't care". in the footnotes at the bottom of that page is the asterix relating back to the title saying "Don't fucking give him cigarettes. he is an idiot and he will ask but they do not work and they never worked and he refuses to listen to me when i tell him this. DO NOT LET HIM HAVE CIGARETTES"

it is very clear this page was filled out by Hermes himself

his interim mortal doctor reads carefully each page, glancing once at nico when he gets to Hermes' footnote, before closing the binder. "you're how old?"

"technically 17, chronologically one hundred and something, i dunno i can't do math and i don't remember what my dad put on my cake this year"

"Right. okay." the mortal doctor presses his hands together and to his lips watching nico carefully then lowering his hands to smooth across the desk "have you ever thought about maybe just sitting on a couch and never leaving your house again"

"yeah, i tried that but i get restless, and also i like helping people if they need it and they ask. hermes tells me i should be more selfish then locks me to a chair, but he's also the one who taught me how to pick locks so i can get out pretty easily. honestly don't know why he keeps trying. even if i didn't know how to pick the lock, i'm pretty good at dislocating my joints on purpose too so i can always just get out that way."

the increasingly stressed out doctor just hums quietly. then, "okay! first i'm going to check your rib, and then we're gonna talk about you getting a 24 hour caregiver because you clearly do not understand limits and need someone who does"

[kawaiichibiart]

It's been a while....

More Miraculous Headcanons!! :D

Very specifically the Chaotic Trio (Marinette, Felix and Adrien)

They have either daily or weekly slumber party anytime Felix is in Paris (prior to Gabe's defeat that is). It's always at Marinette's house. Always.

↑ they sleep in the same bed. And you'd think they'd spoon or just lay next to each other very close because Marinette's bed isn't made for 3 people. No, they're a jumbled mess of tangled limbs. Someone's been kicked in the face more than once everytime. And someone's been pushed off the bed at least once.

Felix and Marinette's friendship began as a truce, for Adrien's sake. Now they're partners in crime, again for Adrien's sake.

Ladybug is reluctant to let Argos patrol with her and Chat, but moreso reluctant to let the two boys patrol without her. She just has a bad feeling about it, but okay...just this one time!!

Oh, they're playing at the park, that's nice-

Never mind they're egging each other on to do stupid shi- CHAT CATHERINE NOIR I SWEAR TO GOD!! .... Catherine? ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Sometimes Marinette and Felix give Adrien a freeday and have him hide in the bakery while Felix poses as Adrien for the day. No one's noticed yet (Chloe suspects something but doesn't say anything because the last time she did, Felix laughed in her face after he tricked her and she wasn't falling for his shit again).

Ladybug knows it's futile to ask for the peacock back. She knows it's more futile to ask Chat to get it back, because he actually likes Argos and apparently they're family...well, she supposes she can see the resemblance, maybe they're twins. Hard to tell when one's...ya know. Blue. Purple. Whatever.

The Ladyblog has a new tab/channel (I dunno what to call it) specifically for the times either Chat and/or Ladybug are caught messing around with one of GABRIEL's ads with Argos, because they noticed a pattern. One: it only ever happens when he's around. And Two: it's almost always Chat Noir but once in a while Ladybug will also join in or be the one to partner up with the peacock Miraculous user. And it's the funniest thing they've ever seen, and gets funnier when the Adrien Agreste chimes in on his socials and says he likes what they've done, maybe he should pay them to deface his ads more. The post is removed quickly but screenshots of said post live on.

Adrien's happy his cousin and his friend are getting along, sure sometimes the sneak off to do things to annoy his father, he's not stupid he knows, he's just happy they're not going at each other's throats anymore.

Felix and Adrien will more often than not put on the same outfit, and style their hair to look the same, and walk around together and act as if they don't notice the other.

Adrien makes Felix and Marinette apologize to each other if he sees them get into an argument, he doesn't care who started it he's ending it. Unfuck you or whatever. Thanks. Keep. Yourself. Safe. Hahaha, thank you.

[cabinofimagines]

Cocoa Chronicles

I'm always happy to get a request from the Kane Chronicles or Magnus Chase so of course I would write this one! I hope y'all enjoy :) Pairing: Carter Kane x gn!reader (platonic) Request: Carter with a reader who always has a cup of hot cocoa in hand, no matter the situation nor season? This is my first time requesting to you guys specifically 😅 Also your fics are amazing! Word count: 0.8k Warnings: none! I dunno, reader drinks diary- -Asnyox

Ever since last summer, Carter had a new found suspicion of you. He knew you liked hot cocoa - the winter prior had consisted of so many cups of hot chocolate that Carter was almost considering staging an intervention for you. Almost. However, last summer he went on a quest with you, in the middle of the desert, and during your lunch break you took out a thermos from your bag, filled with hot cocoa. You offered him a cup, but he kindly refused and offered you a cooler beverage (you know, water) instead. Yet - later that day you encountered a bunch of monsters, and instead of having to fight them, you fed them your cocoa and they relented. 

Ever since then, he had been paying closer attention to your cocoa habits. Indeed, you had hot chocolate on you at all times. At another point, a few weeks after the last quest, the two of you were stumped on a puzzle. As you do, you had gotten out your hot chocolate and you accidentally spilled some on the floor.

That led to a clue, as the beverage sank into some slits in the floor, revealing hieroglyphs. Carter, who seconds before would have scolded you for not being careful, instead appraised your hot cocoa. Carter considered whether your cocoa, or maybe even thermos, was magical, but maybe the inherent comfort of a hot cup of a beverage might just be magical enough. 

And he was thankful for your seemingly endless stash of hot chocolate when both of you got caught up in a snowstorm. Luckily, this time you weren’t on a quest, just simply locked in Brooklyn House, with everyone a little miffed that they couldn’t go outside. You quickly jumped to the occasion, and started asking everyone if they wanted a hot chocolate. Carter offered to help you prepare - maybe he wanted to see whether you would simply pour all the cups out of your usual thermos. Sadly, you had put a pan on the stove, and grabbed different chocolates out of the cabinet. So, instead he decided to simply ask. 

“What’s the deal with you and hot chocolate?” “You want my recipe?” you asked, fully prepared to explain all the steps. “Uh- yeah that too but,” Carter hesitated, “You’re always drinking hot cocoa, like this summer you had it on you too!” “Well what do I say,” you smiled, “I just love the taste that it has! Plus hot chocolate always gives me comfort.” Carter nodded in understanding. “So no magical thermos?” He asked, “It’s just your favorite drink?” You laughed. “Why would my thermos be magical?” you shook your head, “It truly is just my favorite drink, Carter.” you pondered for a moment, as you stirred the milk, “But if you do find a magical thermos, give it to me?” as you looked at him, Carter nodded. You smiled as you went back to explaining your recipe to Carter. 

 A little while later, the entirety of Brooklyn House was sitting together in front of the television, with a random movie on the screen. 

A while later, you simply weren’t having a good day. Got bad news, had too many things to do, bad nights sleep and the Brooklyn House was out of ingredients for chocolate milk. You really weren’t feeling it anymore, and decided to just lock yourself in your room. You were scrolling on your phone, when there was a knock on your door. 

“(Y/n)?” the voice of Carter came from the other side, “Can I come in?” You sighed as you stood up, and opened the door for him. He smiled at you. “Do you have a moment? I would like to show you something.” He held out his hand, and you reluctantly grabbed it, as you then followed him.

He led you to the roof of Brooklyn house, where there were a bunch of pillows on the floor, and most importantly, two big, steaming cups of hot cocoa. 

“I thought we were out of ingredients,” was the first comment you made as you laid your eyes on the cups. “We were, but I figured I would get you some,” Carter shrugged, “Sadie mentioned you were looking rough today. This isn’t much, but I hope it helps.” 

As you sat down, with Carter next to you, the last sunbeams of the evening warming you, you felt a little weight lift from your shoulders. 

“It does, Carter, thank you.” you sipped your hot chocolate, “You should’ve used more chocolate though, but it’s a good attempt.” “I tried my best,” Carter grumbled and you laughed. “You’re a good friend,” you smiled, “Not yet a master hot drink maker though, but a good friend.” 

[thepunchingbag]

Scorch

Fandom: Baldurs Gate III

Pairing: Astarion/Karlach

Description: Astarion and Karlach try to unwind after a difficult day on the road. Burnt flesh and charred clothes might just be a fair trade for a kiss.

Read on AO3

--

Since a peaceful rest evaded him this evening, Astarion chose to idle away the hours by spotting constellations. He stretched over his bedroll, staring up at the vast night sky. The campfire had burnt down to embers, allowing him to see the night's true vibrancy. The stars shined brilliantly here in the wilderness – back at the Gate, he hadn’t much time for stargazing. Not that his Master would have allowed him to do anything so pointless for mere enjoyment.

He spotted the Harp first, glittering against the sky like diamonds upon black velvet. The Centaur and the Woman Warrior had come into alignment, frozen in celestial battle. Squinting his eyes, Astarion thought he could make out the Eyes of the Watching Woman, or. . . perhaps it was Jassa’s Dagger? No, the Dagger normally appeared in autumn. . .  

He heard her approach well before she came into view — for all of Karlach’s many charms, subtlety was not among them— and he could tell she was trying her best to be quiet. Her footfalls were slow, deliberate … but still clumsy. Not to mention the heat radiating off her body and the sound of flames sputtering as her engine rumbled made her ill-suited for stealth.

The fact she was trying so desperately to stay quiet, and failing equally desperately, was actually rather endearing.

Even her whispers were loud, “Hey soldier – you aren’t asleep, are you?”

Astarion whispered back softly, “Just doing a spot of stargazing. Besides, my dear, I don’t sleep, I—”

“Trance. Right, right.” Karlach nodded, “Anything good up there?”

Astarion lifted his arm to point, “The Centaur and the Woman Warrior are in alignment, probably for the last time this year. Then the Centaur will roam across to the northwest. Other than that, it’s awfully boring, darling. But now you’ve come along to keep me company, things have become so much more interesting. . .”

He’d been greatly enjoying himself watching the sky alone— it was far from ‘boring’—  but lying about innocuous things was an old habit. A habit picked up over two centuries needing to be careful about who knew what he enjoyed— and who could take it away as punishment. Not that he needed to worry about that now. Still, some of his old tendencies lingered. No matter what, they lingered.

Even in the dim light, he can see her eyebrow arch. Karlach studied him carefully, then asked, “I can talk to you in the morning, if you’d rather?”

Astarion lowered his voice enticingly, “Heavens forbid. Whatever could my fiery friend want so late at night? I’d be fraught with tension all night without knowing.”

Karlach’s skin glowed in shades of gold and scarlet in the darkness, fire touching her fingertips, flames licking the sides of her face and fluttering in her dark hair. It was hard to look away from her— just as it was often easy to get hypnotized by the dancing flames of a campfire.

Her heartbeat quickened. It was obvious, the way the pulsating light in the center of her chest started rapidly throbbing bright. Her emotions seemed to be on full display, without the benefit of even bodily privacy. Astarion wasn’t sure if he pitied or admired her for it; she was hellishly beautiful.

Karlach’s smile broke out into a full-blown grin, “I’m buzzing, honestly. I couldn’t wait to talk to you.”

Astarion frowned, his smile wavering, “What brought this on?”

“I dunno,” Karlach propped herself up on her elbows, “I was just thinking. Isn’t it mad, how good life is?”

He wanted to laugh in her face. . . but that was unfair. In truth, she was right. Life was good. Or, at any rate, it was better. A damn sight better than a few months prior, when he was prowling the streets and getting on his back in fetid alleyways. Circumstances had drastically improved for her too; no longer suffering under the heavy heel of Zariel, no longer a soldier-slave.

Astarion just manages a half-smile, envying her ability to enjoy the freedom so genuinely— it seemed like every waking moment he was looking behind his shoulder, hearing a hunter’s footsteps close behind.

Before he even knows what he’s doing, he falls into an old rhythm, his smile widening despite himself, “I know what you mean. When I look at you, it’s all I can think about.”

He doesn’t mean it. He means it more than anything. His head swims, lips pressed tight against his fangs as he grins, and he wishes he could pick apart his true intentions from old falsehoods. Karlach deserved better, so much better. And her heart was too fragile to be toyed with, perhaps literally. She was—

Her voice was steady, warm, but her eyes were strangely sad, “Thank the Gods. I was afraid I was the only one. Ten years is a long time to be trapped in the Hells. Ten years without a kind word, a touch.” She shifted nervously, “When I look at you, I feel real again. Alive.”

Astarion wanted to tease her for taking one of his best lines, When I’m with you, I feel practically alive! Ah, yes, an old favorite. Except, she was so. . . so much more convincing than he ever was.

He swallows, sitting up and turning towards her. Opening his mouth to speak, the words die in his throat as he watches her.

“Gods, I want to ride you till you see stars!” She blurts out, throwing her head back in frustration.

A cold pit opens up in his stomach. He digs a fingernail into his palm, letting the painful sensation ground him. It’s funny, he actually lets out a stifled laugh — he’s flattered. Disgusted. Excited. Amused. Worried. Happy. He isn’t sure.

Astarion looks at her, really looks, trying to read her expression. She seems happy, perhaps guardedly so. Hopeful, although a bit of caution behind her eyes. Gods, it’s enough to break his dead heart. Doesn’t she deserve to have something good, for once? He chastises himself. Karlach isn’t a fool; she probably can sense his hesitation.

And he falls into an old dance, the steps almost comforting in their familiarity, “You don’t have to ask me twice, darling. Let’s go.”

She looks away, “Ugh, I’m sorry.” Karlach digs her heels into the dirt, “I shouldn’t tease you – or myself. I’d give anything to touch you, but I can’t. Not until I can be sure I won’t burn you.”

He pouts, “Not even just one kiss?”

“I’ll turn you to charcoal. Guaranteed.”

He draws closer; he can half-pretend that his dead body is alive and warm again being so near to her radiating heat, “We’ll make it quick. One tiny kiss, nothing more.”

Karlach hesitates, holds back. For a minute, he worries she’ll get up and leave. A part of him is surprised when he realizes he’d actually be disappointed if she left. If nothing else, his curiosity is getting the better of him. A chaste kiss is a novelty. Strangely… it’s quite appealing.

She shifts nervously. Finally, she concedes, “We can try.”

He grins and leans in closer, sweat already beading on his brow, a blast of intense heat hitting his face as she leans towards him.

Karlach murmurs, “But don’t hurt those pretty lips of yours, all right? Because they feature heavily in my future plans. . .”

Their lips touch for less than a second, but his skin feels like it’s going to slough off, boiling and red. Karlach’s kiss is a scalding hot brand on his mouth, scorching hot, hotter than the deepest pits of the Hells.

His hair and clothes start catching fire.

Astarion pulls away from her immediately in alarm, picking up dirt and tossing it into his hair, throwing himself onto the ground and patting down the flames. After a moment of sheer terror, he catches his breath while absentmindedly realizing he’s covered in soil and must look dreadful. He reaches to his mouth, feeling blistered flesh.

“Bloody fucking Hells!” He hisses.

Karlach is in a full-blown panic, her hands reaching out to comfort him before she quickly pulls away, remembering her touch would only make things worse, “Oh Gods, are you all right?”

Astarion has the audacity to look shocked and Karlach almost wants to slap him across his smarmy face, if that wouldn’t turn his head into a well-cooked roast.

“I— you nearly melted my face off!” He snaps.

“Make better decisions then!” She snaps back, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, fangs. I’m an ‘at your own risk’ attraction.”

Astarion breathes out a long and ragged breath before he gathers himself, “I’ve never been one for listening to good sense, unfortunately, darling. I’m. . .” He struggles, “I’m sorry.”

She shrugs, letting out a dejected sigh. 

Astarion glances up and notices the forlorn look on Karlach’s face. Something within him twists in sympathy, and the emotion catches him off-guard.

His lips have split open, bleeding— he licks the blood off his lips greedily, not wanting to lose a drop. Sitting there next to her, unsure of his next move, he watches Karlach’s expression gradually grow more miserable with every passing minute. He’s mystified at his own impulse to reach out to her, to lay a hand on her shoulder— if only it was possible without immolating himself. His chest aches in some strange, heavy emotion he can’t classify.

“So,” Karlach says after a long silence, “What do we do now?”

Pausing, he considers this question seriously.

Then he looks at her, a mischievous smile growing on his face. Karlach almost laughs at the sight; him, covered in soot and soil, singed white hair and all. She reminds him of a mangy alley cat about to do something naughty, like stealing a sardine off a fishmonger’s cart.

“Maybe I can’t touch you, my dear, but I can tell you what I’d like to do with you…”

He leans in close, but not too close to cause a repeat incineration, whispering behind his hand. Her tail flicked back and forth involuntarily as he described dragging his tongue along her neck, his hands unstrapping her leathers, his fingers trailing along her body and sliding into the warmth between her legs. How her nails would feel digging into his back. As Astarion pulled away, he was relieved to see her expression had lightened.

“Right, my turn.” She says excitedly.

Karlach carefully drew near. Whispering in between self-conscious bursts of laughter, she told him how she’d thread her fingers through his hair, kissing him (“No burning this time” she sighed)—kissing his face all over. First his brow, then the bridge of his nose, then his lips. She’d hold him close, pulling him to her as they settled comfortably into a soft bed (“The bed’s also not burning” Karlach added quickly; Astarion tried not to laugh) and she would straddle his hips, riding him until they both lost their senses. Then they’d fall asleep together with their hands intertwined, Karlach murmured, her voice trailing off. . . 

Astarion raised his eyebrows. “How sweet. I didn’t realize my she-devil was such a soft touch.”

“Don’t be so sour.” Karlach twisted one of the leather straps on her cuirass, “Besides, caught you blushing just then.”

“I don’t blush,” Astarion bristled, adjusting the ruffles on his collar, “I hardly have the blood to spare for that.” 

“Oh? Just my imagination then. . .” Karlach guffawed, “Guess we’ll have to find another poor innocent boar for you to snack on. Wait, no! Better idea: we bash Gortash’s brains in, you drink him up, then we have victory sex over his corpse.”

“Keep talking like that, and I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself. Burning be damned.”

“Not unless you want your soft hands getting cooked, you won’t.”

To his surprise, he genuinely felt dispirited. “Alas.”

She shook her head, sighing, “Well, you’ve given me a lot to. . . think about. Not sure I can sleep now, honestly. Not without doing something really indecent in my bunk, anyway.”

“Likewise. I’ll be tormenting myself all night with the thought of you.”

“Cheeky.” She snorts, “Seriously, though. I need to take my mind off this, or I’ll overheat. Don’t want to set anything else on fire. Got anything boring to talk about?”

Boring conversation wasn’t usually what he was aiming for with his victims – Astarion stopped himself. She wasn’t a victim.

Dusting the soil off his clothes, he settled down into his bedroll again. Smiling courteously, he patted the earth next to him, inviting her to lie down. . . at a safe distance. Given her affliction, Karlach wasn’t able to even have her own bedroll – not without it immediately combusting upon contact. She had to use a pair of blacksmith’s tongs to pick up anything flammable and even then, the metal became superheated if she held the tongs too long. Even her “bunk” was little more than a patch of dirt, covered with a canvas shade hung high enough to avoid her flames.

As Karlach made herself comfortable (as comfortable as possible, lying in the dirt), Astarion focused his attention again to the sky above.

He pointed to a cluster of stars, “Before you so graciously joined me, I was trying to decide what that constellation over there is. It can’t be Jassa’s Dagger. Too early in the season. But it doesn’t look like anything I recognize.”

“All I know is how to spot the Tears of Selûne but that’s the biggest, most bloody obvious thing in the sky. Bit out of practice— no stars in Hell, you see.” Karlach stretched out on the dirt, “Anyway, that one just looks like a hand flipping me off.”

He snorted— it did actually look like that. Appropriate. Given their current circumstances, was it any surprise that even the heavens were telling them to go fuck themselves?

Things weren’t all bad, though.

They argue over what they’d name the constellation, and somewhere about an hour in, Astarion turns over to point out that he’s spotted the Circle starting to crest over the east— only to see Karlach dozed off, drooling into the dirt. Before he stops himself, he almost reaches over to wipe the drool off her face.

A wave of guilt overtakes him when he breathes a sigh of relief that all they did, all they could do, was talk. Somehow, he’s grown fond of their odd little chats, their not-quite-courtship.

He enjoys being near her. Likes her.

More than likes her, he realizes as he falls into a trance, feeling her kiss still burning hot on his lips.

[obae-me]

Two things!

Firstly: I will be accepting 10 requests!

I need to practice and just work on some things that aren't just my long form pieces right now. So, the first 10 requests I get, I will work on! My general rules are the same, no demoncest, no romantic Luke, etc, etc. I reserve the right not to do a request. You all get the deal by now. They won't be perfect, and they won't be extremely long (unless you tempt me with monsters or fluff), but I'll do 'em, and that's the important part.

Secondly: a general apology.

I know 'sorry's are not needed, it's not like I've taken money and ghosted or anything, but I hate just going MIA for so long. Also, I know it's not needed, but I thought I'd give a little life update for those that, I dunno, find it interesting I suppose.

TW for menstruation, blood, and general medical stuff

I posted here a while back- in the summer I believe- talking about how fainting is not as elegant as media makes it out to be. I talked about how I fainted and then just did my ha-ha's and got it out of the way. At the time, since the doctors at the hospital didn't find anything with their initial testing, we all chalked it up to a bit of dehydration, lack of sleep, and stress. I was inclined to believe them. I *was* bouncing between graveyard shifts and morning shifts and not sleeping well because of it.

Then the week after, I had one of the most painful periods of my life. I've not had great ones ever (who does?), but never enough to fully debilitate me. It was bad. Stabbing cramping pains strong enough to almost make me faint again. I was worried, but gaslit myself into thinking it's just because of the fainting the week prior; I had had extreme faintness and weakness all week.

My work at this time was coming up with stricter rules that would make things harder, and they told me that I'd have to apply for certain disability accommodations (like keeping certain medications I need close to me and not on a different floor behind a lock, so cool of them). So, I tried to find another job, one where I could hopefully sit down. So I spent two months working that all out. I have a temp remote one right now, yay!

The next month or two was fairly normal period wise. So I thought everything was 'okay'.

And then I stopped bleeding completely. No warning or anything, just...nothing. And it's particularly worrying because I've been on birth control since I was like 14 to balance out my hormones. So I waited till the month after make sure it wasn't a weird one-off. Still nothing. Went to the doctor and got a new kind of medication, and I waited a month. Nothing. And the pain is only ramping up every cycle (or the attempt of one). I spend two weeks of the month in extreme depression and pain, and then spend the two weeks after that picking up the slack. I haven't been able to write, haven't been able to do much of anything. My typical day is getting out of bed to work, order something to eat, and watch mindless YouTube till I sleep, I'm just THAT exhausted. Spoons? Nonexistant. Then, just a few weeks ago, I suffered some of the worst exhaustion of my life. I'm talking only being able to stay awake for 20 minutes and then having to take a nap, and doing that four or five times a day. I went through that for five days, and then on that last day, I practically collapsed and almost fainted again.

So I have my first Gyno appointment next month, and I am utterly terrified. So much of my life has been filled with doctors' appointments and testing, just for them to tell me they couldn't find anything, and it's either because I have anxiety or because I'm fat. *Love* the medical system. But then, on the other hand, I'm scared of them finding something severely wrong.

So, until December, I'm just...waiting. And, of course, I'm not trying to fish for sympathies. Just...sometimes, it's good to have something to treat as an echo chamber, and this blog sometimes is my cave to shout distorted worries to. I really *should* journal, I guess.

So! That's been my life since I last posted, really. And that's not even mentioning my grandpa who ended up in the hospital (he got hit by a RAM truck, absolutely insane, and he's mostly fine, what a trooper).

I'm really hoping that I'll have the energy to pour into my passions if we get everything worked out. And I'm really grateful to have this small community here for whoever is still sticking around, you all have been wonderful.

That's the end of the update! Maybe I'll drop the news if/when we make some discoveries on why my already defunct body is breaking down even more than usual.

Love you all!

-Mara

[graycats-arcane-blog]

Lightcannon Week, day 5 fic!

Prompt: Rebound

Title: By the End of the Week

Rating: T

Length: 2.7k

AO3: link

@lightcannonweek

Synopsis:

“So, how long do you think the rebound will last?”

“Oh, they’ll be broken up by the end of the week. Did you see Garen dragging Lux off? I bet he’s chewing her out right now, reminding her what a red flag looks like.”

. . .

Freshman Year of College, Fall Break

Two months after they fell hard and fast into a whirlwind relationship, Lux invited Jinx to spend a week in Demacia. They arrived at the Crownguard Estate to find that Lux’s family had arranged a welcome-back party, but Jinx didn’t feel very welcome as Garen dragged Lux away and left Jinx to wander...

 

“Have you seen that girl she brought home?”

The Crownguards' massive-fucking-house had a proportionally massive-fucking-restroom, big enough for a small clique of women to touch up their makeup together inside. At least, that’s what Jinx inferred from the multiple voices chattering behind the closed door. All she wanted to do was take a leak, but Jinx had to wait for these chicks to clear out before she could claim the space. Leaning back against some of the fanciest floral wallpaper she’d ever touched, Jinx sighed, crossed her arms over her chest, and settled in to wait.

There was a highly-polished grandfather clock tick-tick-ticking at the end of the hall. The clock was about two feet taller than her and probably worth more than her childhood home. Tapping a finger against her arm to the pace of the ticking, Jinx entertained herself by perusing the details of the intricate woodwork. However, she swiftly grew bored of this observation and rerouted her attention to the bathroom gossip.

“I know, right! I’ve been waiting for someone to bring her up!”

“When Lux said she’d found someone abroad, I thought she’d bring home a Piltovan gentleman. Maybe a doctorate student with a tweed suit and a designer watch collection! But her…”

“I know, right!”

Jinx’s finger, still subconsciously tapping, slowed and went still.

Those chicks were talking about her, weren’t they?

“Where do you even think she found that girl?” The voice paused briefly, and Jinx heard a click like a compact closing. “She can’t be a university student. She looks more like… I dunno… someone you’d find at a cheap club, dancing to something crass.”

“Maybe that’s how they met?” another voice suggested. “After the breakup, I bet Lux was looking for some fun to take her mind off things…”

“… So she got drunk at a club and let the first person who pounced on her take her home!” The prior voice exclaimed.

Another woman snorted derisively. “What a way to pick a rebound,” she scoffed in a high, scathing voice that reminded Jinx of a pissed-off sump mosquito. “Speaking of which, did Jarvan ever say why he broke up with her?”

“I haven't heard anything…”

Conversation briefly petered off as the women waited for anyone to step forward with information. When it was clear that this line of inquiry would go nowhere, one of them posed an easier topic of gossip.

“So, how long do you think the rebound will last?”

“Ha! They’ll be broken up by the end of the week," the woman with the annoying mosquito-voice declared confidently. "Did you see how Garen dragged Lux off the moment she walked through the door? I bet he’s chewing her out right now, reminding her what a red flag looks like.”

“Yeah, he’ll set her straight,” one of her cronies agreed. “I almost feel sorry for that girl. It’ll be awkward for her here once Lux dumps her.”

“Lux is pretty nice, so she’ll probably book her an early plane ticket back instead of keeping her here for the full break,” another suggested.

Jinx curled her lip. What a bunch of slime-brained, maggot-ridden dummies. They’d barely seen Lux and Jinx interact, but they thought they knew enough to put an expiration date on Jinx’s romance?

… And, yeah, sure, they’d made a lucky guess about Lux meeting Jinx at a club instead of on campus. But Jinx was a student, just like Lux, and they were making plenty of not-club-related memories together!

One of the women sighed. “I can still barely believe it,” she mused in a tone that sounded genuinely confused. “I get that the breakup was rough for her, and we all know she was feeling rebellious when she chose to go to Piltover for school, but bringing a girl like that home?”

“You’re one to talk,” said mosquito-voice snidely. “Remember when Keith dumped you in high school, and a week later you were caught making out with the vagabond who sold weed in the parking lot?”

“Nooo!” the woman wailed. “Urgh, you just had to remind me! I was trying to forget about that!”

"We’re all just glad you came to your senses,” one of her friends said more kindly. “What happened to that guy, anyway?”

“Hmm? Oh, I have no idea. This is the first time I’ve thought of him in years.”

“I think I read about him getting imprisoned,” mosquito-voice snipped.

“Well, that makes sense for him,” the other woman sighed. “This is a depressing topic… Hey, we should think of a nice guy to set Lux up with once she pulls herself together!”

“Yeah,” one of her friends agreed. “Just because she’s going through a phase doesn’t mean we should give up on her! Tess, you have a single brother, right? Is he hot?”

Gritting her teeth, Jinx shoved herself off of the wall and stomped down the hall.

There’s gotta be a bathroom in this massive-fucking-house that isn’t full of buzzing little sump-bugs.

 

. . .

 

Long after she’d left the gossip-room behind, located another piss-bowl in that maze of a house, and gotten her business dealt with, Jinx felt like she could still hear that grandfather clock tick-tick-ticking in the back of her mind. It felt like a timer, as if some part of Jinx were counting down to a moment of truth.

Tick-tick-tick-tick…

“Ha! They’ll be broken up by the end of the week.”

“Shut up,” Jinx muttered to no one in particular under her breath.

Rather than returning to the ballroom – an entire fucking ballroom! Who even had those anymore? – where the welcome-back-party was trundling on in boring splendor, Jinx wandered the halls without direction, working out her nervous energy through pacing legs. In one corridor, she found herself walking under another tick-tick-ticking clock...

"Did you see how Garen dragged Lux off the moment she walked through the door? I bet he’s chewing her out right now, reminding her what a red flag looks like.”

Lux’s brother had looked grim when he’d dragged Lux away. His eyes had narrowed with distrust when he’d looked at Jinx.

Balling her hands, Jinx shoved them deep into her pockets. That was the only safe place to keep her hands, considering how much she suddenly itched to punch a clock. Or a mirror. Or maybe someone’s face.

Would Lux be upset if Jinx smashed one of her friends or family’s faces in? Was a tendency to smash faces one of those red flags Garen was warning Lux about? Would Lux break up with Jinx immediately after the face-smashing, then send her back to Piltover alone, and then forget about Jinx in a couple of months after one of her friends set her up with someone’s brother? What then? Would Lux even think about Jinx after that, or would Jinx become a rare afterthought?

"Jinx? Oh, I remember her. Knowing what she was like, I'd guess she's in prison for arson or something like that right now. Honestly, I haven't kept up with her at all. It's for the best. That was such a weird part of my life; I'm just glad it's over!”

Tick-tick-tick, sang a very punchable clock from somewhere around the next corner.

Jinx flexed her pale, wiry hands, drawing them tensely out of her pockets. Zoning in on the ticking noise, she stormed down the hall, picking up her pace as she rounded the corner, and…

… ran face-first into Lux’s chest.

“Oh!” A pair of pale, tender hands gently grasped Jinx’s shoulders to steady her. Jinx’s brain felt stuck as she tipped her head back to meet shining, sky-blue eyes and a warm, summery smile. “There you are,” Lux said joyfully, her smile stretching beautifully wider as she gave Jinx's shoulders an affectionate squeeze. “I’ve been looking for you!”

“… Hey,” Jinx replied halfheartedly after a moment of lag-time.

Lux leaned down to press a lingering kiss to Jinx’s forehead. Although she craved more contact, hungry to cling and keep, Jinx didn’t chase Lux as she took a short step back and offered Jinx a rueful expression. “I’m sorry about the surprise party,” she said with a sigh. “I know you wanted some alone-time to relax after the airport.”

Jinx shrugged, shoving her hands back into her pockets. “The party’s stupid, but it’s fine,” she grumbled.

Lux’s grin wilted. As her eyes flicked slowly over Jinx’s face, Jinx felt like a germ getting studied under a miscroscope – a sick, dying germ. Lux’s brows pinched together with concern, and her lips parted to voice a question.

Rather than giving Lux the chance to point out her mopiness, Jinx cut in, “What did the big guy wanna talk with you about?”

Lux blinked, perhaps startled as Jinx’s question derailed her from her own. Then, a bitter, irate expresion clouded her face. “Nothing important,” she huffed. “I love my brother, but I hate when he tells me how to live my life. Garen would prefer if I let him make all my decisions for me.” Shooting Jinx a wry grin, she traced a fingertip under Jinx's chin, sending a faint shiver through Jinx's body, and added in a purr, “It’s a good thing you’ve been giving me lessons in autonomy. It’s been nice to make some decisions he wouldn’t approve of.”

Lux looked enraptured as she grinned at Jinx, like someone under a spell. Her attention was flattering, enticing even, but... spells weren't meant to last, were they?

“… we all know she was feeling rebellious when she chose to go to Piltover for school…”

“… going through a phase…”

Tick, tick, tick…

Jinx folded her arms, clasping her twitching fingers tightly over her biceps, and nervously turned her head away.

Lux looked closely at Jinx again. This time, she voiced her question before Jinx could cut her off. “Hey, are you feeling alright?”

Jinx dug her nails into her skin. “I’m fine.”

“Jinx.”

Fuck. Damn it. That was Lux’s I-know-there’s-something-you’re-not-saying-and-if-you-don’t-tell-me-what-it-is-I’m-going-to-be-cross tone. Jinx bit her lip for a long moment, not meeting Lux’s eyes.

Then, hesitantly, Jinx posed a question.

“Lux… what do you like about me? Aside from the fact that I piss your brother off?”

If Lux was surprised by the question, she didn’t show it. She reached forward, gently tucked a flyaway of Jinx’s bangs behind her ear, and said, “You’re cute, creative, and by far the most fun person I’ve ever met. I feel good when I'm with you. I feel free.”

When Lux’s hand lingered by her face, Jinx dared to lean her cheek against it, savoring her touch. Lux's hand felt far more grounding than Jinx's own restless legs, so anxious to pace-pace-pace to the tempo of a ticking clock. “Do you think you would’ve been interested in me if we’d met before you and your ex split?” Jinx followed up.

Lux grinned coyly. “If you and I had met earlier, my previous relationship would've ended much sooner.” With a tilt of her head, she added, “Now, I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what brought these questions on?”

“… Just overheard some gossip,” Jinx admitted, turning her head so that she could hide her grimace and half-muffle her voice against Lux’s hand. “Your old pals were yakking about how I’m your rebound. How you only picked me ‘cause you were feelin’ rough after your ex dumped you. They were making bets on whether we’d last the week, now that big brother's around to 'set you straight.'”

“…”

After a long moment’s silence, Jinx cautiously met Lux’s eyes again.

Oh, fuck, she looked mad!

“Who said that to you,” Lux asked in a low, dangerous voice. “Who called you a rebound?”

Damn, that tone did funny things to Jinx's insides. The sight of Lux getting angry on her behalf did make Jinx feel a little better, in a tingly, guy-twisting way. Reassured by Lux’s passion, she said with feigned dismissiveness, “They didn’t say it to me directly. I think there were four or five of ‘em crammed into one of the restrooms. One of them had a kind of high, whiny voice, but I didn’t stick around to see them.”

Lux let out a long breath. “I’ll find them and deal with them later,” she promised darkly in a way that made Jinx feel a pinch of giddiness despite the night’s insecurities. “But for now… First of all, I want you to know that my ex didn’t break up with me. I dumped him, and my mind felt clearer that day than it had felt in years. The only reason we'd gotten together in the first place was because my brother asked me to give him a chance, but I knew I couldn't live by Garen's suggestions anymore if I was ever going to be free.” From the pride in Lux’s voice, Jinx could have no doubt that what she said was true. “Second… I would’ve hoped that the care I’ve given you in these past few weeks would be enough to show you that you’re not just a rebound to me, Jinx.”

At Lux's dour tone, a wave of guilt washed over Jinx. Was Lux disappointed in Jinx for not having more faith in her? Did she feel slighted by the way Jinx had clearly been affected by the gossip she’d overheard?

Jinx hadn’t meant to get all gloomy about it! She didn’t want to feel like her relationship was on a timer! She just…

… she just wasn’t very secure about these sorts of things, considering how many friends and family members had left her behind.

Jinx winced when Lux leaned forward again, not wanting to see disappointment on her partner’s face. However, Lux kissed her forehead again, slowly and gently, and said in a soft, sad whisper, “I’ll try harder to show you what you are to me. I’m sorry I’ve let you feel this way.”

What? Lux felt sorry? Lux shouldn’t feel sorry! “You’ve been great, Sunshine!” Jinx quickly insisted. “The best! I just…" Jinx hesitated. She hadn’t explored her past with Lux yet, aside from some very brief anecdotes about people she used to know. Jinx had preferred to stay in the moment, to try and enjoy being with Lux instead of drowning in the ghosts that haunted the back of her mind, but this relationship wouldn’t last if she couldn’t open up, would it? "... I’ve always had trouble with keeping people I care about around. It’s… It’s really easy to believe that people are gonna leave, even when I’ve got someone awesome like you sayin’ that you care.”

“Oh, Jinx…”

Now Lux looked even sadder!

Way to go, Jinx!

Maybe this hadn’t been the right time to allude to her depressing past.

However, Lux’s gaze softened as she murmured, “Thank you for being honest with me. I always want you to feel safe telling me when you feel insecure. Is there anything I can do to help?”

… huh. Maybe depressing honesty didn’t completely suck.

“It’d be kinda nice if we could ditch this party and cuddle in your room,” Jinx suggested hesitantly. “And maybe we could... talk about stuff more?”

Rather than being bummed out at the notion of leaving her parent’s houseparty, Lux graced Jinx with a smile that shone like the sun. “I think that sounds like a perfect way to spend the evening.”

 

. . .

 

Later that knight, after they'd cuddled and chatted in the security of Lux's room, Jinx felt closer to her partner in more ways than one as she rested in a sleeping Lux's arms. 

Lux had been adamant in telling Jinx how much she cared about her, damn the suggestions of her family and recommendations of her friends. They'd fallen fast, but they were good together, weren't they? They had fun. They were happy. 

But they were so, so different too, the nasty voice in the back of Jinx's head relentlessly reminded her. This is just the beginning of a week that will remind Lux what world she came from, and how little you fit in here.

Somewhere in the room, a clock was tick-tick-ticking. 

Placing a hand over one ear, Jinx nestled more firmly into Lux's side and, slowly, drifted into a fitful sleep.

[tranz-regent]

" “Eh.  It’s hard to explain.  He cultivated us, bred for us, went miles out of his way to get us back if a member of his ‘family’ was taken from him.  Mounted a freaking crusade if it came down to it.  But when we were around, he paid almost no attention to us kids.  When he did pay attention, it was to discipline us or test us.  Discipline usually meant getting a dose of paralyzing terror for not listening to him, insulting him or even looking him in the eye, sometimes.  Testing happened on our birthdays or if he’d had a bad day… he’d try to set up a trigger event.  Not supposed to be so hard, given that we were second generation capes, obviously, but he started when we were eight or so.” “How old were you?  When your powers showed?” I asked, quiet, feeling intense pity not only for Heartbreaker’s victims, but for the kids in that situation. Whatever my feelings, Alec managed to look bored with the topic.  “Hard to tell.  Since I didn’t go to school, and nobody really kept records, I lost track of the years.  Ten or eleven, maybe.  I was his fourth kid to show powers, and there were eighteen or so of us when I left.  Most of ’em were babies, though.” Which made him, not Grue, the one of us with the most experience and seniority. Alec shrugged, “So yeah.  I worked for him for three or four years.  We did jobs, I learned the family trade.  Called myself Hijack at first.  He started to get on my case.  I think maybe he was having trouble affecting me the same way he did before my powers kicked in, so he compensated for that by riding me.  Pushed my limits, made me do stuff that was dangerous, stuff that was hard on my conscience.  Wanted me to break, beg him to stop, so he’d have leverage to get me to do what he wanted.” “And?” “And he ordered me to kill this foot soldier for a group trying to push us out of their territory.  After I was done, he told me I did it wrong, that I had to do it again with a captive we’d taken, and I knew no matter what I did, he’d make me keep doing it.  Just another way of pushing my limits.  I had convinced myself I didn’t care about the people I was hurting or about this guy I’d just killed, and maybe I didn’t.  Maybe I don’t, still.  Dunno.  But it was so pointless.” He shrugged, “I didn’t see a real reason to stay.  Walked away.  Changed my name, got fresh ID, changed my villain name too.” He’d killed someone on his father’s orders, which made him the second killer in the group. Armsmaster must have dug up that detail & drawn the right conclusions after connecting Alec to his prior alter ego. “When did this happen, this killing?” I asked, quiet, “How old were you when you killed that guy?” “Hmm.  I’d been gone for about two years before the boss got in touch with me, which was about this time last year, so three years ago.  I would’ve been twelve or thirteen.” "

[milfmorrowind]

Catch me when I fall

@tes-summer-fest

Part 1: Thief

ao3 link

part two

Why did it always have to be so damp?

Really though, this was getting ridiculous. No matter how hard Mailie tried to keep the moisture off of her, there was an ever-pervasive sense of slime in the Ratway that never seemed to go away. You would think regaining the blessing of a daedric prince might come with some cleanliness-related perks, but apparently not. Although, Mailie reasoned, of all the gods, Nocturnal was probably one of the least concerned with hygiene. And anyway, Mailie would fight a hundred dragons before letting on just how offensive she found the moisture to be. Her guildmates had come to respect her, despite her relative inexperience and privileged upbringing, but she could only imagine the amount of ribbing she'd get from Vex if anyone found out why she never leaned against walls. It was bad enough with Brynjolf assigning her the lovely moniker of "Princess"(thanks, Bryn, that really helps with the rumors), the last thing she needed was another "friendly" nickname.

Speaking of Brynjolf, where the hell was he? It had been four days or so since Mailie had asked after him, only to be met with a "Dunno, said he had a job to do. Something about an 'old friend', and to not expect him back for a bit," from Delvin. Very helpful, that, thought Mailie as she gently swirled the ale in her tankard (another habit that was made fun of– "It's not one of your fine wines, Princess, just drink it and go"), the thin layer of dew collected on the handle doing nothing to improve her mood.

She hoped for Brynjolf's sake that whatever he was doing was important. Delvin made it sound as if he'd left in a rush, which suggested it was at least somewhat urgent, but that's really no excuse for not telling anyone where he was going. If Delvin hadn't caught him as he was halfway up the ladder, no one would have known he had left at all. And sure, maybe she was being a bit unreasonable, free agents and all that, but it didn't change the fact that putting yourself in harm's way with no backup plan and no one to help you out if there's trouble was careless, and Brynjolf was not what Mailie would call a careless man.

Her musings were interrupted by the door from the Ratway swinging open. Mailie quickly pulled her hood back up to cover her face, shifting as she did to make sure Dawnbreaker was covered by her cloak. Her affiliation with the Thieves' Guild wasn't exactly Skyrim's best kept secret, to be sure, but it still wouldn't do for the Dragonborn to be seen publicly wearing a symbol of the guild's leadership. The more influence the guild gained, it seemed, the more they had to fear being recognized, especially as Mailie oh-so-carefully cut ties with the Black-Briars. Protection be damned, she couldn't wait to rid herself of their parasitic influence. Like pulling a leech from a leg, there would be blood, and it might sting a little, but it was better than being bled dry.

Thankfully, the hands pushing open the door belonged to Kjeld, one of the children the guild had recently recruited as a messenger. His parents had died in a dragon attack a few months prior, and his relatives had summarily kicked him out, claiming he was too expensive to feed, despite the farm they inherited from the boy's dead parents. Sapphire had found him sleeping by the road on his way to Honorhall, and offered him a job, which he was more than happy to take. He had proven a valuable asset, eager to learn and strong for a boy of twelve, likely due to his years of farm work. Less thankfully, he looked rather harried now, cheeks flushed as he ran along the narrow pathway towards the bar.

"Thane Chester - Master Mallory, sir– I need to– I mean I have something–" he stopped, hands on his knees as he struggled to speak through gasping breaths.

Delvin Mallory, stationed as ever at his table with a notebook and a flagon of mead, calmly reached out and put a hand on the youth's shoulder. "Slow down there, catch your breath."

Kjeld nodded, taking a few deep breaths and steadying himself. "I have news about Master Brynjolf, sir."

"Brynjolf?" Suddenly, every eye and ear in the Flagon was trained on the boy, and even Galathil looked up from her book for a moment. Mailie slipped out of her chair and headed over to where Delvin was sitting, adding her hand to Kjeld's other shoulder and kneeling down to his level.

"What kind of news?" she asked gently. "Did he send you with a message?'

He shook his head. "No ma'am, I haven't spoken to him myself. You see, I ran into Elte at Heartwood, and she said she'd heard from Alan at Ivarstead that he heard from Sedyni that-"

"Cut to it, kid," said Vex impatiently from the next table over. "What'd you hear?"

Kjeld swallowed. "Someone saw Brynjolf get arrested in Solitude. Right by the fort too, said there were elves and everything."

"Elves? Were they Altmer? With dark robes?" asked Mailie urgently. Stendarr's sake, if the Thalmor have him…

The boy furrowed his brow. "Those them tall ones, right? That's why they call them High Elves?"

Before Mailie could give a full explanation (and launch into a sociopolitical history of the Summerset Isles), Delvin cut her off with a nod. "Yes, lad, the tall ones. Were they there?"

"Sounds like it, sir. And Elte said that Alan said that Sedyni said that Brynjolf was awfully surprised to see them. He might have been badly hurt, too, there was something about a crossbow. I didn't wait to hear the whole story, sirs, I figured you'd want to know straight away."

"You did the right thing, son," Mailie said, patting him on the back. Calling over to one of the closer tables to the bar, she added, "Thrynn, could you make sure he gets a meal and some sleep, please?" The former bandit grumbled, but put his mead down and led the boy into the cistern.

Mailie pulled herself up and fell back into the nearest chair. Fuck. "I don't suppose any of you have friends in the Legion."

Vex barked out a laugh and crossed her arms. "Believe me, if I did, we wouldn't have heard about this through a messenger boy. Besides, you know the rules, Chester, we don't break people out."

Mailie scowled. Vex was right, technically-- it was Guild policy that anyone who got caught was on their own, but that hadn't stopped any of them from marking escape routes or bribing the occasional guard on a guildmate's behalf. Vex was no exception. She played up the apathy to keep anyone from getting too cuddly, but she cared about Brynjolf. She cared about everyone in the guild, actually, but but accusing her of it was a surefire way to end up with a black eye, so no one dared mention it. But Mailie knew. She'd known from the moment she saw the relief in Vex's eyes when Karliah's innocence was proven, the way she showed Mailie how to treat her dragonfire burns, the way her expression softened whenever Sapphire walked into the room.

Mailie was about to shoot her a withering glance and a cutting remark on the topic when she realized that Vex was staring her down. Ah. Vex had fallen into the habit lately of trying to test her-- to see what decisions she would make under pressure, to see how she would enforce rules, to see what rules she was willing to break. In short, Vex was testing her ability to lead.

Mailie shook her head. "Bryn's too good to get caught like that. If the Thalmor are involved then there's something bigger going on here. And hang the rules, I'm not letting someone rot in prison without at least knowing what happened. Especially if they're injured."

The ghost of a smile made its way on to Vex's lips. She'd passed. "Fair enough. I'll go get him, then. Been a while since I did a jailbreak, I could use the practice."

Again Mailie shook her head. "No. I'll go."

Vex raised an eyebrow. "You sure?  You don't exactly have a lot of experience with this. Have you ever even been arrested?"

Mailie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm sure. I-- We-- can't risk this being a trap. I have some influence in Solitude, if everything goes south I might be able to talk myself out of trouble," She hesitated for a moment. "And if Elisif's favor can't help us, my... associates have some sway in Imperial politics. Me being thrown in prison wouldn't exactly be good for their image, they might be willing to pull some strings and help me out. No one else here has that kind of leverage, and I'm not letting you throw yourself in front of blade without knowing who's holding it."

Delvin leaned across the table. "You're willing to bring your parents into this, Mailie?" he said. Clever bastard. Of course he knew.

She shrugged. "It's a last resort. There's a good chance they've disowned me by now, anyway. We haven't exactly kept in touch. It's a gamble I'm willing to make, though."

Vex uncrossed her legs and stood. "Well, if you're determined to go, I think we've got some old maps you could look at. No sense in sending you in blind."

[tategaminu]

I don't use Twitter much because I want to keep my sanity so anyone can tell me if TDP official has said anything about their lack of posting? Instagram has barely been active‚ to the point of posting about the NYCC panel just two weeks prior and not even the day before‚ and last year today I remember a cute Christmas meme but nothing this year‚ I don't know if its the same for Twitter but I really miss their posts‚ they are super wholesome.

I guess they must be busy with S6 or the one in charge of social media has life stuff‚ I dunno.

Edit: thanks everyone who told me about the reasons :D

[chibivesicle]

Trigun Stampede - Episode 6 - Wolfwood’s tragic backstory, now? Eeeehh?

Episode 6 dropped yesterday and I had only enough time to watch but not anything else.  After watching it, I just felt meh wringing my hands about how when I first heard about the reboot at Anime Expo last summer I was so stoked for a more through Trigun anime.  And we get this version from Studio Orange which I really wanted to be an enjoyable watch - buuuuuut - meh.  You’re killing me Studio Orange.

Since I didn’t have time to get to it yesterday, I pestered my good meta friend Merdopseudo to see what she thought as well, so I’ll be highlighting some of her points here as well since she’s great at catching things I miss or summarizing well.  As indicated by my summary title, I’m quite confused why they decided to lead with Wolfwood’s even more tragic backstory in this version of Trigun than in the manga.

We start off the episode with a fleeing masked member of the Eye of Michael (though they haven’t been named yet) who tries to kill Wolfwood and fails as he destroys the man.

We get even red eyes as he lines up his aim before the man dies.  And he’s wearing his sunglasses even at night!  Wow, maximum badass.  Why? Wolfwood needs to be a maximum badass, that’s why. Furthermore, so many scenes in this anime seem to feature full moons all the time.  Just an observation.

After the opening we return to the quartet in the November News Bureau SUV.  In the backseat, Vash and Wolfwood are pouting over something and Meryl jokingly asks if they are having a spat over candy.

This line feels like it was delivered in poor taste.  I get she’s trying to defuse the situation but are we to think this is due to Wolfwood shooting Rollo - last night?  Or a few days prior?  What is our pacing? What day of the week is it?  How much time has passed?  Any clue would help us out here Studio Orange.  I’m going to take the easiest option and say that they are pouting about the fact that Wolfwood killed Rollo - last night.

Roberto then suggested that they need to finish their job.  This would mean abandoning the SUV and taking the Sandsteamer to July and I guess check in with a Bureau office there?

He’s clear that he wants Meryl to take the steamer but it was vague if he was going to go with her or if he wanted her to take it for safety. Uncle info dump isn’t info dumping this episode much.

They end up separating from Vash and Wolfwood who both board the Sandsteamer.   Wolfwood gives Vash shit for seeming to have no emotional connection to Meryl and Roberto - which really it a valid reply.  It hasn’t been that many days that Vash has known them.

It has been even less time for Wolfwood to know Vash and he’s sticking to him like crazy glue, again being an ass.  Honestly, there is NO chemistry between Vash and Wolfwood in this version, Vash runs and tries to not kill people and Wolfwood gives him shit and kills people.

Meanwhile, Meryl is working hard to convince Roberto that they need to continue to track the Humanoid Typhoon.  Interestingly, that she doesn’t call him Vash, but by his destructive nickname here.  She pulls out the photo with young Rollo asking Roberto if he’s scared.

We don’t get a clear answer from Roberto if he’s actually afraid - I felt he isn’t afraid of Vash per se, but instead realizes that his youthful appearance is some sort of indication that dangerous stuff surrounds him.  More that he wants to avoid Vash out of a sense of - I dunno - not dying.  This episode will frequently use the word monster to describe Wolfwood a lot and Vash as well.  This is the writers trying to get us to connect the two of them and make us feel that they should be friends and a dynamic duo - which they aren’t currently.

We see people at the Ferry Terminal waving to those on the steamer which in this version is called the Humpback.  Interesting shift, as in the original the Sandsteamer was known as the Flourish and was a Humpback class.

In other versions, children were excited when it came, being Sandsteamer nerds.  I’ve been following too many historical sewing/clothing youtubers for the past few years and I keep getting vibes that the clothing for normal people in this sci fi series is more 1910s-1920s and not late 19th century western dress.  The boater hats, suspenders, knickers, newsboy caps, lack of women with bustle action etc.  I know it is a future sci fi series, but it does seem that they tried to modernize the clothing to at least be early 20th century to fit the sci fi vibe more.

On the steamer there is a route map telling use they are leaving the Terminal - which literally is just a single terminal in the desert?  What?  Ports develop around such locations but this is just a terminal. 

It is also hilarious that the Terminal starts somewhere in ‘Central America’ crosses part of the Great Sand Ocean, there is the Hopeland Orphanage in ‘Africa’ stops West of ‘India’ and then loops around ‘Australia’ only to reach July in ‘Southern China’.  Really guys, you just took a world map and smooshed and distorted the proportions.  We also get to see a tall man with the modified Zia-Cross symbol of the Eye of Michael in Stampede. 

Back when I first saw the early previews, I caught a glimpse of what was his back in an action shot and my first thought was - what? Are they using a Zia in the anime when it has some important symbolic meanings?

Stampede has been clear it has shifted very far away from the Christian aspects of the original work.  Since this is based on a Western style anime/manga we get this mixed vague symbol which I’m certain is a visual hybrid with the Zia.  If one were to travel through the Southwest as a tourist, you would inevitably see a Zia in some form with the most obvious being that of the New Mexico state flag.  The flag is yellow with the red Zia in the center representing the Zia sun symbol.  This symbol originated from the Zia Pueblo but has come to include more Pueblo groups, Hispanic native New Mexicans to just New Mexicans.  You live in New Mexico?  Lots of government documents, logos and all sorts of stuff will have a Zia symbol.

A simple way to summarize it is that it captures New Mexico culture - for example a cycling racing team is known as Zia Velo and they represent southern New Mexico.  However, if the Zia is applied out of a New Mexico/Pueblo context things get stickier.  I also think with a Japanese audience, a symbol which is built on groups of four wouldn’t work for the viewers so they took elements of the Zia from a Southwest inspired image board and called it good.  Four is the number of death for East Asians versus for the Zia, four is a scared number that captures key elements of life.

Anyhoo, I got distracted by the interesting looking symbol for the religious group on our desert planet.

Vash finally gets around to directly asking Wolfwood what his job is and he replies that he’s babysitting him. From Wolfwood we can understand that it is his ‘job’ to make sure Vash gets somewhere.  Or at least those are the orders that Wolfwood has.

Their conversation doesn’t get very far since Livio appears on the scene almost immediately and shoots at both of them.  We have a much more clean cut and slick looking Livio with a slim build and his two smaller guns along with a modification on his face and a mechanical sounding eye.

Vash fights back and it able to get close enough to fire at point blank range, but of course doesn’t.    We know he doesn’t want to pull that trigger, but it seems none of his modified opponents could care if they are in a tight spot.

It takes a little bit of time for Wolfwood to recognize who this man is and it ends with him asking if he is Livio before the title screen flashes. 

The anime then takes a shift to a 2D style of animation with silent film style titles showing how Livio came to the orphanage and Wolfwood was the longer taking care of the ostriches.

As Livio settles in, Wolfwood becomes his friend trying to get the crybaby to stop feeling sad at missing his parents.  He gets him to help out in the bird pen, and there is a cute sequence of them becoming childhood friends.

Older Wolfwood, tries smoking like an adult all cool and shares it with Livio who coughs.  We get a close up of Wolfwood running off with Livio hand in hand where in this flashback Wolfwood has a much darker skin tone in contrast to Livio being exceptionally pale.

We get it, there was a time when Wolfwood was cute and he was friends with Livio.   The flashback goes back to the present and Meryl and Roberto chasing after the sandsteamer when the Bad Lads gang shows up on sand sail boats.

They are taking this idea of the Great Sand Ocean quite literally and I don’t know how I feel about this.  I’m still wondering why it even exists but this is a sci fi desert series paying homage to lots of other sci fi desert tropes.

Interestingly, we have no idea if the Bad Lads Gang have taken Meryl and Roberto hostage, just that they’ve been surrounded.  I also guess there will be no scene with Kaite, the son of the chief engineer of the original Flourish.

Wolfwood’s flashback continues that he’s been selected as a ‘Child of Blessing’ just like Rollo by mysterious church.

There is a weird psychedelic flashback were Wolfwood is a test subject and shows S+ levels of possibilities.  This is clearly a term added for the Japanese audience as the States does not have this type of ranking which is a trope specific to Japanese media.

The original Trigun did not make references to S+ and I honestly don’t remember the term coming up in Trimax either.  We get that Wolfwood is subjected to all sorts of crazy stuff and due to his response to the treatments he’s a good candidate for furthering efforts.  Just like the breakneck pace of the anime, his own physical development is rapidly accelerated - much more so than with the manga.

We still don’t have a clear timeline, but if he’s ten or eleven at the start, but he’s I dunno twelve now?  As the original anime put it, he was taken in as a child and trained by Chapel the Evergreen for ten years before striking out on his own for an unclear amount of time making his age over twenty.  The manga has the unclear timeline where you’d think he was around twenty at the end, but maybe seventeen.   Either way, manga and ‘98 anime Wolfwoods were more emotionally mature and had seen things.   This version of Wolfwood might be a super-powered twelve year old for all we know. Which I am not a huge fan of this angle.

For fun he’s stuck on an inverted cross examine room table and called a monster for emphasis. Yeah, let’s slap some basic Christian imagery down but it has no meaning since that’s been cut out in this version.

Of course, being likely only twelve, he tries to escape his now adult form declaring he’s returning to the orphanage before getting caught.

As I stated previously, I wasn’t a huge fan of younger Wolfwood in the manga since it has a character disconnect where he had this world weariness that did not match his age nor life experience.  But I could forgive that a little since we saw him as an older teen training under Chapel.  Now, he’s a man with a child’s mind.  Yeah.

With his attempted escape, he is only stopped by Legato.  This is another huge deviation from the anime and manga since Legato doesn’t even know what ‘Chapel’ looks like in the manga.

Their first encounter was at the Church at Jeneora Rock and the assembly of most of the Gung-ho Guns.  In contrast, he’s immediately on guard since Vash told him about the strange and dangerous man he’d encountered on the bus to May city/Augusta.

For the sake of oversimplifying the plot, something that Merdopseudo and I had been predicting, Legato is the one who reveals that all things lead to Knives.  The Eye of Michael is not an independent organization!  It is all a part of Knives noble plan for the the future.  This is lazy writing.  The whole regenerative capsules and religious assassin organization were independent of Knives and only worked with him due to a shared goal of sorts.  Legato tells Wolfwood he’s been signed up for the Eye of Michael.

And apparently, since Wolfwood still has willpower to fight Legato, it makes him unique and declares that he doesn’t believe in any god.

Wolfwood has gone from being a flawed, trapped principled man with some sort of religious core to an atheist.  Okaaaaaaay Studio Orange - not sure where you are going with this at all. 

Legato brings in Livio who wanted to join Wolfwood and it is clear at the moment that Livio’s backstory has been completely retconned and he’s the younger brother character for Wolfwood to worry about.

Legato comes off as bizarrely cold and unemotional in this version.  In the anime he was a man clearly bent on a dark and destructive agenda, but I would not call him unemotional.  If anything Legato had a huge amount of pretentious pride in his nihilism.  It was a defining feature of his character and in the manga his intense emotions and nihilistic tendencies were even more over the top. 

This Legato - just a cold blooded robot.  Conrad shows up with his own Project Seeds jacket in white, symbolic of his role as a staff scientist.  It also has me wondering how old he is in this version.  Our Doctor has to stop Legato from killing the promising young Nicholas for the greater goals.

The flashback ends and Vash and Wolfwood are arguing again as Vash is interfering wanting to help.

Vash managed to pin down Livio in a rather smooth action sequence with lots of empty shells bouncing around as he tries to figure out what is up when he calls out Wolfwood’s name.

This catches Livio’s attention who says that he needs to catch up [to Wolfwood] and easily launches Vash off into the air while Wolfwood randomly declares that he can’t let the two of them kill each other.

So, when did you become friends with Vash, Wolfwood?  You only showed up in episode four and here in six you are his friend?  You’ve had no bonding!  There was no foray into the desert to rescue a child or bus ride.  No tournament or situation with a runaway kid where your philosophies aligned and clashed.  You haven’t gotten drunk together.

But hey, we now have Wolfwood’s flashback and we know he cares about Livio his adoptive younger brother who can’t kill his other friend Vash. This. Does. Not. Work.  I see two random men in sunglasses who just argue with each other.

Zazie the Beast and Livio approach the Sandsteamer as Legato reads the ‘bible’ of the local religion and the two characters mock Wolfwood and his pinch.  Legato has decided emotions are for losers and Wolfwood has those pesky emotions!

We get it, Wolfwood is different and you are having fun watching him suffer.

They drive close enough to the Sandsteamer that Legato is able to stop an internal mechanism inside the the locomotive that causes it to veer off course.  It seems that Legato has leveled up in his own abilities instead of manipulating people to do things against their will.

I guess Legato is officially an ESPer instead to make him easier to understand.  I will miss that manga scene with the transport truck and the Calvary and the blood dripping onto the sand below. 

By diverting the steamer, it now is on a collision course with the Orphanage - which is apparently the entire town?  This is as confusing as the Terminal being a Terminal alone.

At the same time the Bad Lads Gang have appeared.  And with our simplified plot we know - they were brought here by Knives.

Why do Legato and Zazie the Beast care what Wolfwood does next?  If they see themselves above human emotions why do they care at all?

And with that the episode ends on a cliffhanger. 

We will learn in episode seven what happened to Meryl and Roberto and perhaps the man himself will appear.  B.D.N. that is!

My immediate reaction to this episode -

Wolfwood’s backstory was way too soooooon!  Far too soon!  Was this even earned Studio Orange?

For a few points, I’m going to tap some of my conversation from my good meta friend Merdopseudo.

1.) A good stand alone episode.  Technically, and by itself this was a good episode.  Merdo points out it is fine as an episode but its structure is also its weakness, indicative of the issues that have plagued the series.  Where does this fit in the overall structure of the story?  What purpose does it serve in advancing the plot?  The episode is fine.  You can watch it and be entertained.

2.) Wolfwood’s backstory is unearned.  We get Wolfwood’s tragic backstory far to early into the plot.  He appeared two episodes ago, seems to be a dude who is rude and will kill if necessary.  We don’t know what it at stake for him.  What does he do normally?  Where is his moral compass?  What is he doing in this whole mess.  Why do we even care?  Right now, Wolfwood is a kid with a big fucking gun and apparently had a friend named Livio.  The found brothers trope also falls flat despite the technically excellent 2D silent film flashback.  The backstory in this episode is just ‘put there’ in an attempt to humanize this version of Wolfwood.

3.) Vash and Wolfwood are not friends. Yep, I will continue to say this.  They are not friends.  Wolfwood is an annoying guy following Vash around because those are his orders.  They have not bonded in their adventures, nor have they argued about how to act.  They both jumped into save a girl, rode the bus to May city/Augusta.  They in the anime had more bonding at the competition and fought over the rights of the individual versus the rights of the collective.  In the manga the bonding is a bit later but still happens over several volumes and Wolfwood gets tied into Vash’s heroic antics from time to time.

4.) The pacing is paradoxical.  This is Merdopseudo’s best point.  With the predicted 12-13 episodes, this story needed tight-super tight plot beats.  Instead, individual episodes are slow while the combined episodes are rapid leading to this disconnect.  This is the best highlight of the writing problems that have plagued this series from the start.

This ties into what I have also been most critical of - the pacing.  There is no room to breathe between episodes yet, certain episodes linger and waste time on things which are unnecessary.  This is a lot of the CGI scenes of how E.G. drove his wheel or how Rollo was watching Vash dodge and stuff like that.  Or the man with the lights guiding the Sandsteamer out of port.  Just lots of strange shots that visually look cool but don’t help the story.

Which gets back to Merdo’s theory that this is all just a demo for Studio Orange for future projects and investors.

And as this continues, I become more pessimistic that this indeed is the purpose of Trigun Stampede.  Studio Orange took on Stampede because it was a low risk project.  They updated the look for a more modern audience and don’t have to worry about upsetting the original fans of the anime or manga since it was domestically a flop and obscure.  Clean it up with characters that are for the domestic audience, simplify the plot beyond recognition and make it dazzling to the eyes.  It is only 12-13 episodes, it will pull in better projects in the future.

Studio Orange isn’t going to care about the non-Japanese, specifically very likely vocal American fanbase.  We aren’t there buying the new merch at Animate. Hell, it is currently and annoyingly out of print with Darkhorse here in North America.  Why keep all the elements that made it a smash hit elsewhere?  It doesn’t help their bottom line.

Thus, Trigun Stampede is a product that does not take the elements of the original anime from Studio Madhouse and the lore of Trigun Maximum to deliver a cohesive product that gives us the magic sauce that made the original so good.  It was never their intention to present us with faithful adaptions of the original series and characters.  They clearly don’t care for the original themes, character morals, questions, struggles, successes, failures and sacrifices that made the original such an emotional high hitter.

Quick character notes:

1.) Our dud duo - Meryl and Roberto.  For once, Meryl sticks to her guns and is able to guilt Roberto into continuing.  Good for her, but doesn’t amount to much in terms of plot.  She stood up for herself and made a valid argument and her senior colleague agreed.  Wow.

2.) Vash.  Is more assertive with Meryl and Roberto away from him, and finally asks Wolfwood what his deal is.  He has some decent fight scenes with Livio but honestly, doesn’t do much else in the episode due to the Wolfwood heavy plot.

3.) Wolfwood’s premature backstory.  Fails his character greatly.  Wolfwood is a character of great nuance, moral struggles and lots of questioning in a good way.  We see none of that and get his backstory upfront almost as quickly as Vash’s.  This attempt to humanize him without knowing him does not serve his character.  This also doesn’t work with his previous religious associations which are why he was a more powerful character in the original versions.  We know he believes in God, though he’s not naive enough to believe that faith in God will solve his problems.  If anything he sees that humanity’s flaws and dark sides force humans to become devils at times (a line both used in the anime and manga).  The anime leans in much harder with the priest aspect of his character with his first and last confession in the church before he dies.  The manga instead has him die at peace sharing a drink with Vash as he’s ‘thanked’ by the younger children of the orphanage.  Either way, both of these endings for him show that he’s a man who has a moral code derived from a very Catholic theology and he struggles with balancing that with his own actions trapped between powers greater than him.  He has a clear line between acts of divine beings such as God and Angels and how it is impossible for a single individual to meet those and instead must learn to live with their actions and how painful it is to directly contradict your own moral code.

4.) Legato Bluesummers is a ‘robot’ with a bad haircut.  This version of Legato is not the nihilistic, self-destructive one of the anime and manga.  He mocks others and sees himself as superior to orphans like Wolfwood. He wants to watch a moral quandary but does Wolfwood really have a moral dilemma? Is he religious or is he reading a religious text to mock it due its emphasis of faith and emotions?  Like Wolfwood, his power is also much greater, if this were the original he would have made that random train engineer dude destroy the moving part while dying in the process.  Now, he just goes ‘whoosh’ and it breaks.  Boo - I miss his sadistic tendencies. 5.) Livio is another ‘robot’.  But with a hangup to be like Nicholas!  I bet.  Unless, he also gets a long flashback, his character has been likely completely retconned to the extreme.  Lazy writing would indicate that Razlo the Tri-punisher was a result of his mind splitting due to the experiments.  That’s my prediction if we do get his backstory.  Not due to other things . . .

6.) Zazie the Beast.  Is weird.  Look, I’m playing cat’s cradle and I made a spider web.  Humans are so dumb, mwahahahahahaha!  I’m also filling in for Leonof the Puppermaster with my insect spycams/drones.

My snark is coming out in my character responses here, but really are these characters with depth or characters checking boxes like a game of Bingo.  I’m curious to see how many of my predictions pan out in future episodes of if they will leave us in the dark. 

As far as themes, this episode doesn’t really have one that stands out. Other than adults treat children very poorly in this place and even if you are a masked religious woman, you have to have big tits.