#at least i'm doing this all in a new and better computer instead of after having to format my old one

[eternal-evergreens]

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧JJK Men as Yanderes ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Post Format: Headcanons

Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, Mahito, Choso Kamo

Word count: Each piece is roughly 750 words

Warnings: implied sabotage (Gojo, Toji, Choso), invasion of privacy (Gojo), kidnapping (Gojo, Sukuna), murder (Geto), kidnapping mention (Nanami, Toji), suicidal ideation (Nanami), light gore (Gojo, Sukuna, Mahito), reader injury (Sukuna), threats of bodily harm/mutilation (Mahito), sexual assault (Mahito), implied murder (Choso)

Satoru Gojo

You're nothing special. Not compared to him, at least. With no long line of sorcery or blue blood running through your veins, your family is just about as average as it gets.

You're nothing special---not to Jujutsu society, anyway. But who gives a shit about that? To Satoru, you're more than special.

You're everything.

He's always been the strongest, and yet, when he's with you, he just feels so weak.

Like a schoolgirl fawning over her latest crush, Satoru often finds himself checking his phone while away on missions, hoping to see your name appear on his screen. It doesn't have to be anything special—even a picture of some ugly animal with the caption "That's u, lol." is enough to get him going. Just knowing you were thinking of him at all, even in an unflattering light, makes him feel lightheaded in a way not even battle can emulate.

It's weird. It's embarrassing.

But he can't get enough.

Satoru wants you more than he's ever wanted anything, and he wants you to feel the same way. He'd do anything if it meant winning your heart.

If you asked him to kneel, he'd kneel. If you asked him to beg, he'd beg. If you asked him to rip out a man's heart and present it to you, he'd ask if he should do so on a silver or gold platter.

If you asked him to let you go, however...

You sigh and fall back onto the couch. It'd been a week since your landlord mysteriously kicked you out, and Satoru took you in with a frankly suspicious eagerness. To say that he was an overbearing roommate was to put it lightly.

He'd follow you around the flat from room to room, enter your bedroom without knocking, and once, you even caught him sifting through your laundry. He wasn't even embarrassed about getting caught, let alone the fact that he had done it in the first place.

You decided to start searching for a new roommate after that.

"Y'know," Satoru says, slinging his arms around your shoulders---you hadn't even heard him approach. You quickly close your computer, which happens to have very clearly been showcasing cheap apartments in the area. "I could have just taken ya'. Snatched you up off the street like some kidnapper."

"What...?"

"---But I decided to play nice instead. I thought we could forge a real relationship that way. But you've just been pushing me away. I'm starting to think I've been too lenient with ya'. Like maybe I should have just locked you up instead."

"That isn't funny, Satoru."

"Who said I was joking?" You open your mouth to respond, but Satoru cuts you off before you get the chance. "You want dinner? I can order us takeout. Anywhere you'd like."

Drop it, his eyes say. You do.

That very night, you pack a bag and head to the nearest hotel. In the morning, you'll ask your job if they can transfer you to another city. For tonight, you'd like to just get a good night's rest without the lingering fear of waking up to his figure looming over you.

You wake up to familiar surroundings. It doesn't register as strange until you remember checking into a hotel the night prior. You shoot up to get a better look around. Sure enough, you're in your own bedroom, not the hotel's.

But how...?

You're sure you left last night. Did you dream it? You go to check your phone, but it's not there.

Just then, the door opens. "Oh, you're up," your roommate says.

"Satoru, what's---"

"I called you in sick for work today," he says casually, "and tomorrow. Actually, starting today, you're unemployed."

"What?!"

"Don't worry. I can take care of us. I've got more than enough money."

Satoru wants you more than he's ever wanted anything, and he wants you to feel the same way. He'd do anything if it meant winning your heart.

If you asked him to kneel...If you asked him to beg...

If you asked him to let you go, however...

"C'mon, baby, you know I can't do that," he'd say, arms around your waist and head in your lap. "Ask me for something else, anything. Just not that. Do you want a pony? We can get a pony."

"No---"

"What about a cat? Or maybe you prefer dogs? I could get a purebred if you wanted one. I know it gets lonely being in the house all by yourself."

"I want to go outside, Satoru."

"We could get a fish tank, I guess. Though I doubt they'd make good company."

"Listen to me---"

"Actually, maybe that's for the best. Wouldn't want to compete for my lover's attention in my very own home, you know?"

Suguru Geto

When he was at his lowest, Suguru thought of you. It kept him going. It kept him sane.

So, of course, you were the first person he asked to join him in the creation of the new world. His world.

"Our world," he said, the look on his face desperate, pleading.

You declined, of course. His ideals went against everything you stood for as a Jujutsu sorcerer. As a person.

He took it well---or seemed to, at least. He flashed you a plastered-on smile and released your hands from his, leaving you with no further fuss.

For a while, that seemed to be the end of it.

Life went on. Though you would occasionally catch wind of his nefarious deeds, dealing with such things never fell within your purview. In fact, it almost seemed as if the higher-ups were purposefully keeping you from any cases that involved him.

You had all but forgotten about that fateful evening when a call from the higher-ups had you booking a flight to Okayama.

Apparently, there had been a sudden influx of cursed spirits in the region. And as the lead researcher in cursed phenomena, you were called to the scene.

You had already been given a file outlining the happenings, but out of courtesy, Yumi, the assistant supervisor assigned to the case alongside you, filled you in regardless.

"It's not that there's a higher rate of cursed spirits being born in this area," she said. "They're migrating here."

"Hmm," you look over the map on your tablet again; colour-coded dots mark the locations and grades of each (presumed) non-native sighting. The spacings are far from natural. They seem to have been made with intent, almost as if forming a pattern of some kind.

"We've set up a barrier to track the arrival of new cursed spirits. Nearly every curse from fourth to semi-first grade in the neighbouring towns has been coming here. Some of our windows have even spotted them moving together in groups."

"Was there anything strange about their behaviour? Like moving in single-file lines, with strange movements, or perhaps even speaking?" Yumi lights up.

"Yes, actually! They were all---"

Your screen flashes, suddenly restarting the tablet without your input.

"Huh...?"

"[Last]-San..." Your supervisor almost whispers. You tear your eyes from your screen to hers as she weakly holds up her tablet to you.

Over four hundred cursed spirits have been spotted crossing the Okayama border within the past fifteen minutes.

Your tablet finishes restarting, and you scramble to view the map again, hoping what you just saw was nothing more than a glitch.

The loading screen seems to take ages to complete, but when it does, the map shows exactly what you feared.

Oh. You get it now.

The pattern it was trying to spell out. It's "愛"

---"Love".

You hear a scream.

"Ah, it's good to see you again. How long has it been now?" A voice---one you're all too familiar with---says. "Two, no, maybe three years?" Suguru is wiping blood off of his hands. You don't want to look down. You can't look down.

Yumi is dead.

You looked down.

"I'm not sure why I phrased that like a question I didn't know the answer to," he says, smiling in a way that makes your heart ache. "I've been keeping track down to the days, you see."

"Were you...behind this?" You've never been one for combat. You can't use reverse cursed technique to save Yumi. You can't fight to save the others. There's nothing you can do.

You've never felt so helpless.

"I did," he admits casually. "I recently got my hands on a new curse. First-grade 'Pied Piper', its technique creates a sort of call-and-response between itself and other curses of a lower grade through a musical frequency only other curses can perceive. With that technique, I can manipulate the movements of curses I haven't yet acquired without leaving my residuals behind."

"But if it's coming from the technique of a curse you possess, your residuals would still be left behind," you counter.

"Ah, as quick on the uptake as always, [First]," he praises. "You're right, or you would be if this curse were under the control of my curse spirit manipulation. No, this curse was tamed, not subjugated."

"Why are you telling me this?"

He's going to kill you once he's finished explaining.

"I've always appreciated an inquisitive mind," he says. "especially when it's your inquisitive mind." Your mouth forms a vague 'O' shape as the realisation dawns on you.

"愛"

"Love"

...You're never getting away.

Kento Nanami

Nanami is someone who has never really been all that content with life.

Sorcery sucks. Corporate sucks. Japan sucks.

Sometimes, on his darkest days, Nanami thinks about what would have happened if he had joined Haibara—or better yet, if he had never even been born in the first place. If the world is this awful, wouldn't it be better to have never experienced it at all?

But then he met you, and suddenly, the world didn't seem all that bad.

Don't get him wrong, it's not like your presence suddenly made all the wrongs in the world right, but it did make him feel like they all mattered just a little bit less. Like maybe all this suffering was worth it, if it also meant he could see you smile.

So, of course, he'd do anything to keep you safe. To protect that smile.

The easiest way to ensure that, of course, would be to clip your wings. To lock you away somewhere where only he could reach you. A songbird that only sings for him, a dove in a birdcage.

He'd treat you like royalty, of course. His job pays well, but he's a somewhat frugal person by nature, so he has plenty of savings lying around. Whatever you wanted, he'd get you.

As long as you stayed safe, he couldn't ask for anything more. Even if you didn't love him, as long as your smile could be protected, that would be enough.

He's in the middle of researching what kind of restraints would cause the least damage and irritation to your skin when he realises what a grave mistake he was about to make.

'If the world is this awful, wouldn't it be better to have never experienced it at all?'

What if...

What if you started feeling that way, too?

What if, in trying to protect your smile, he ends up being the one to take it away?

He could offer you all the material things in the world, but if it comes at the price of your freedom, it might still not make you happy. After all, it was the same for him.

If money didn't make him happy, why would you be different?

Sorcery sucks. Corporate sucks. Japan sucks.

Nanami is worse.

He doesn't deserve you. It's with this thought in mind that he begins to avoid you. He refuses to meet your gaze, leaves the room when you enter, and declines all missions that involve your presence.

He feels like he's going crazy. Separation has made him sloppy and reckless. He comes home with more injuries, and a part of him thinks he deserves it.

Bags begin to form under his eyes as two weeks go by without the haven of your presence. He sees you everywhere now. The girl across the street is dressed in a substyle you like. The model in that magazine has your eyes. The cafe down the block is having a special on your coffee order.

"Nanamin, why're you avoiding [Last] all of a sudden? They do something to you?" Nanami scoffs at the remark but doesn't answer. He turns to leave but stops when Gojo continues. "Y'know, they actually came cryin' to me about it. Said they had no idea why you suddenly started treatin' 'em like they've got the plague." Nanami turns to look at Gojo, who's fiddling with his blindfold. "You should make up with them soon. Can't leave our cute little assistant supervisor feeling so down, you know?"

Nanami hates to admit it, but Gojo might be right.

'What if, in trying to protect your smile, he ends up being the one to take it away?'

Fuck. He can't do anything right.

He really doesn't deserve you, but what can he do? If he leaves, you won't smile anymore, but if he stays, you'll be smiling at a monster.

But what can he do? He'd do anything to protect that smile.

Even if it means hiding his fangs.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji is a man who takes what he wants and doesn't care if he has to get his hands dirty in order to take it.

Naturally, this applies to you as well.

It's strange, he's never wanted someone as badly as he wants you. Not his past flings, not even his late wife.

Toji is no stranger to romance. He was married, after all. He knows love. It's a familiar feeling.

That's why he's inclined to believe that what he feels for you isn't love. No, what he feels for you is far too primal to be love. It's rough and all-consuming. It's nothing like the soothing feeling he had around his wife.

Love wraps around one's heart like a warm blanket. This wraps around his heart like a python.

But if it's not love, what is it?

Actually, scratch that. It doesn't matter.

Whatever it is, it's some form of desire. And if he desires something, then all he has to do is take it.

Yes, it's better to keep these kinds of things simple rather than getting tied up in technicalities.

There is a problem, however. He'd like nothing more than to just lock you up and keep you for himself, but with his somewhat unstable income and his habit of bouncing around from place to place, that isn't exactly feasible.

Ah, what to do...?

He could settle down or stop spending his money as soon as he earns it, but where's the fun in that?

No, rather than try to adapt to your lifestyle, he'd much rather force you to adapt to his. Still, he supposes some sacrifices will be necessary, as his lifestyle is currently only fit for one.

You'll have to quit your job since you'll be moving around from place to place alongside him, but he'll just take on some more jobs to cover the extra cost; it's no big deal.

He proposes the idea to you so matter-of-factly that it's almost as if he believes you to have already agreed to the plan beforehand. In reality, this is your first time hearing of such a thing, and you're so stunned that you momentarily lose your voice.

You've known this man for two, no, maybe three weeks, and yet he's asking you to drop everything and come overseas with him? You're not even friends! He's just a regular at the cafe you're employed with.

It dawns on you that he must be joking, so you chuckle awkwardly and avert your gaze. Perhaps you simply haven't known him long enough to gauge his sense of humour. You feel a little embarrassed for nearly having taken him so seriously.

Then, he shows you the plane tickets.

Bewildered, you end up being more blunt than you perhaps meant to: "I'm not going," you say, pushing his tickets back to him.

"Sweetheart," he says dryly. "I'm not asking." You shoot him a strained, confused smile, which quickly morphs into a more genuine one as the door chimes.

To think you'd ever be happy to serve a customer. It's a foreign sentiment, but if it means an end to this strange interaction, you'd happily serve a hundred---no, maybe even a thousand customers.

You take their order and get to making their drink, shooting quick glances at the man---Toji, you think---from behind the bar.

He hasn't taken his eyes off of you.

It's days like this that you wish the company wasn't so stingy about hiring more than one person for shifts. You're about to clock out, and if that man is going to stay until closing, you'd really like to have a coworker walk you back to your car.

It's twenty minutes until closing when Toji finally leaves. You let out an unconscious sigh of relief, feeling your shoulders relax. That was weird, but you shouldn't have to see him again, right? He's going overseas tomorrow, after all.

Yeah, you won't see him again. Thank goodness.

It's with that thought in mind that you flip the "We're open!" sign to its side and lock the doors. It's only 6 PM, but the fall season means it's already dark. You shiver from a cool breeze as you make your way towards your car at last.

Huh. Flat tire.

Ryomen Sukuna

Those who know of Sukuna will inevitably feel sorry for anyone who happens to catch his gaze. Sorcerer or not, none will ever possess even a fraction of the strength he carries, and for someone like Sukuna, that means you're no better than a bug to be trampled on.

What a poor, pitiful thing you are. You must be treated more like a pet than a person. A plaything for him to toy with, to discard once you've ceased to entertain.

However, this interpretation couldn't be more wrong.

What others fail to realise is that Sukuna would never waste his time on someone he doesn't consider his equal. Weak as you may be, there's something about you that seems different in his eyes.

Like a precious gem left unpolished, there's a certain allure to you that only a trained eye could see, and he'll be damned if he lets anyone else stake a claim on you first.

No, he'll be the one to bring out your true potential.

Sukuna has never met someone worthy of being his companion. This has never bothered him, however. Loneliness was not something he was familiar with. There are those who have tried, of course, to prove their worth, to stand by his side, but none have ever moved him.

None until you, that is.

The funny thing is that you don't even try to win his attention. You never once asked for his gaze to land upon you. And yet, he can't bring himself to look away.

Sukuna doesn't know what to do with you. You make him feel things he's never felt before.

Is this weakness? Is it love?

Is there a difference between the two at all?

Should he kill you? Should he keep you?

What can he do to make these feelings go away? What can he do to ensure they never go away?

In exchange for not pillaging your homeland, the townspeople offer you up as a sacrifice. It was Uraume's idea.

At midnight, you're dragged out of the comfort of your home and tied to a stake, where you stay for hours. By dawn, you've worn yourself out with struggle, dried blood sticking to your hands and the ropes around your wrists, when a white-haired stranger comes to collect you.

The stranger undoes your bindings, but only the ones keeping you bound to the pole. You're dragged along like a dog on a leash for countless hours until you eventually arrive at the largest estate you've ever seen in your life. It's midday when you're untied and allowed to bathe. The warm water releases all the tension from your aching muscles, and as you bathe, the white-haired fellow replaces the garments you arrived in with robes made of fine silk.

The stranger's name is Uraume, they tell you. They'll be taking care of you until their master is ready to meet with you.

"What happens after that?" you ask tentatively.

Uruame flashes you a smile that refuses to answer.

Before you know it, a full week has passed you by. You're still yet to see this so-called master, but Uraume tells you not to worry. After all, the master has already seen you lots of times, they say.

The thought of being watched in secret sends a shiver down your spine.

Though the prison is large, you're confined to only one wing of the estate, and after a week of having nothing to do but wander, you have the entire layout memorized. Bored and unattended, you decide to venture out into the unknown past the garden's gates. There, you come face-to-face with the largest man you've ever laid eyes upon.

A hulking figure with four arms and fiery pink hair turns to you, and in an instant, you fall to the ground, only vaguely aware of the blood pooling around you and the pain across your chest.

In truth, Sukuna had tried to kill you, but his technique missed your vitals. It takes him a moment of watching your blood ooze out of the open wound to realize he did it on purpose. Before he even realizes it, he's picked you up in his lower arms and applied reverse cursed technique to your injury. You've lost consciousness, and your pulse is weak, but you aren't dead. Relief floods through Sukuna's veins as he listens to your soft breathing.

From that day on, you're never to leave his side unless absolutely necessary. From that day on, Sukuna has someone worthy of standing by his side, not as a servant, nor a pet, but as a companion. From that day on, Sukuna has a lover.

Whether you like it or not.

Mahito

As a curse born from the hatred and fear humans feel towards their own kind, Mahito relishes humanity's anguish and despair. He kills without a second thought, not caring who he hurts or who gets swept up into his path of mass destruction.

So why is it that this particular human sways him so? Why is it that he thinks your soul looks pretty, just the way it is? Why does he want to touch you but not to warp you beyond repair?

Why does he want you to look at him? Why does he want to scoop your eyes out of your sockets so that you can never look away?

To be a curse is to always follow your own desires, no matter how contradictory or inconsistent---that's the motto that Mahito lives by.

So, of course, this philosophy applies to you as well.

It doesn't make sense, and he doesn't understand it. But that doesn't matter to him. Why would it? He's a curse, and curses take what they want. What he wants is you, so, of course, he has to take you, too.

Mahito doesn't spend long watching you before he makes his move. First, he has to check if you can even see curses to begin with. If you can, that'll make things easier. But if you can't...well, that'll be fun too.

He bumps into you at the train station around 2 AM. It was a late night at work, and you're now dead on your feet. There's no one around, so it's the perfect time for him to test you. He taps your shoulder with a smile.

If you don't react, he starts feeling you up, talking aloud about how much he wants you as his hands roam your body.

"Mm, you're so weak," he says, palm on your stomach. "Look at you, all unguarded. If I wanted to, I could take your soul and just—" he squeezes the flesh on your abdomen. "—until you go splat! Hmm, but I don't really want to do that. I wonder why?" His hand trails down to your hips, brushing past—but not quite landing on—your private areas.

"It's weird, isn't it? You can't even see me. You don't even know I exist. But I know you exist." He grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers together. "Humans usually wear rings when they're married, right? I wonder why you don't have one? You're such a catch," he giggles. "Ah, well, I guess it's better for me. Less work, y'know?Though, I would have liked to see the look on your face, coming home to dear, sweet hubby, all mangled up in your living room. I wouldn't even bother transfiguring him. No, I'd want you to see his face clearly, all contorted in pain with his guts splayed out all over the floor."

He follows you home. You still can't see him, but you at least seem a little aware of his presence, with the way you keep glancing over your shoulder, randomly picking up the pace and taking more turns than necessary.

How fascinating! You can't see him, and yet you can sense him? He's swooning already.

"Don't worry, [First]," he says, arms around your shoulders as you fumble with your keys. "You'll be able to see me soon. And after that, you're never getting rid of me."

If you do react, however, he holds himself back, opting to strike up a lighthearted conversation with you instead.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing here all alone?" He asks. "Don't you know the subway is dangerous at night?" You visibly bristle, clearly on guard. He grins.

"Do you need something?" You ask, clutching your bag to your chest and stepping back. His grin widens, easily closing the distance you've just created.

"You're lonely, aren't you? All you do is work; you don't even have any friends! It's kind of pathetic, really. That's okay, though, I like you anyway. I might be the only one."

"What do you---"

"I could help you, you know. Ease your loneliness, maybe?" He's touching you now. Nothing outright inappropriate, but you could smell his intentions from a mile away.

"No thanks," you say. The train stops, and you hurry off the platform. Fortunately, the stranger doesn't get off with you. He waves at you as the doors close, and you run all the way home.

Finally feeling safe, you don't bother to do anything more than kick off your shoes before collapsing on your bed. It creaks under your weight, then creaks again. You freeze, your eyes shooting open.

"Heya," the stranger says. "Fancy seeing you again."

Choso Kamo

If you were to describe him in one word, 'inexperienced' may be your best bet.

Though it's true that he has 'lived' for over one hundred and fifty years, he spent most of that time as a cursed womb, unable to truly experience the outside world for himself. Even after being incarnated and absorbing the memories of his host, Choso finds himself unable to relate to any of his body's experiences. He knows what love is and what lovers do, but only from a technical standpoint. To actually experience it is something he's never even dreamed of doing.

So, of course, when he starts feeling these things for you, he's unable to properly put a label on them. At first, he thinks he's sick, which isn't unreasonable, considering his rather long list of symptoms (fever, shakes, sweats, heart palpitations, and clouded mind, he notes dutifully).

However, that idea is quickly shut down. Being a cursed womb death painting, it's highly unlikely that he even can get sick; plus, his symptoms only seem to surface when you're around (or when he's thinking of you, which, admittedly, is often).

Did you curse him? No, you don't have a technique like that.

Then, what...?

It takes him a somewhat embarrassingly long time for him to realise the truth behind his feelings. It isn't until after he catches himself staring at your lips and thinking about how soft they'd feel against his that he concludes he likes you.

So, he's figured it out. Now what...?

Choso searches through his host's memories in an attempt to figure out how to woo you. Unfortunately for him, his host was a frat boy with commitment issues who knew more about one-night stands than how to build the foundations for an actual relationship.

So, Choso consults Yuki Tsukimo, who he, with his very limited circle of friends, considers to be an expert.

As expected, Yuki is ecstatic at the news that Choso has found his type. Immediately, she's giving an impromptu lecture on the ways of the heart.

"First, you have to figure out their type," she says, wagging a finger. "If it's a match, you're all good. If not, you either need to give up or double down."

Through Yuki's mentoring, Choso learned the general rules for signalling romantic interest. Flowers, chocolates, walks in the park, walks on the beach—a lot of walking in general, actually—candlelit dinner, pick-up lines—he's got it all memorized.

The problem is that his throat gets dry, and his knees lock up when he so much as thinks about talking to you.

So he takes to following you with his eyes instead.

"It's just until I gather the courage to talk to them," he tells himself. "I'll stop once I figure out their type."

Right, if he can't ask you about your interests, he'll just have to observe them instead.

So, he watches you. All the time. Eventually, he all but forgets about his previous plan of it being a temporary habit.

It's just so...addicting. Watching you go about your day like normal. Completely unaware of his presence in the shadows. 

He learns about your hobbies, your interests, what kind of shows you like, your favourite foods, whether you still keep stuffed animals in your room, and more. He has a mental folder of all your likes and dislikes. And while there are some things he’s not able to learn, some places he’s not able to follow, it’s enough. Just knowing this much is perfect. 

He doesn't do anything. He doesn't plan to, either. He’s content with just watching. It's comfortable like this. He doesn't want anything to change. So, he forgets about stopping, and instead sinks even deeper into his newfound obsession.

If he had it his way, things would stay like this forever. Him, never confessing, and you, never knowing. But, unfortunately, fate had other plans in mind.

It was 10:15 AM, and you were at a local coffee shop by yourself when the barista handed you their number with your receipt. You shyly accepted, and just a day later, the two of you had plans for a date the next week.

Unfortunately, your 'date' canceled last minute and blocked you with no explanation.

It's a good thing, then, that your good friend Choso just so happened to bump into you, lending you his shoulder to cry on.

Well, there's no reason to waste a good dinner reservation, right?

You never do go back to that cafe, but if you did, you'd find the barista missing from the register.

[zexapher]

Vacuan Nights, Like Vacuan Days

They’re just so great together! I’d love for Jaune and Weiss to get a little downtime in Vacuo to live out a moment like this. They really deserve it, and I’d love to see Jaune’s guitar make a reappearance.

The comic here was inspired by u/Silverstar1243’s excellent piece of art, A Serenade Under the Moonlight. Send some love to them on their twitter, commission some art if you’re willing and able, they’ve made some great stuff.

You folks may have noticed I threw in a couple of references for those in the know; the Golden Oreos behind Yang (double stuffed, I might add) for the trio’s ship, Weiss liking it rough for Mallobaude’s great fic, and of course I made a whole theme around the Arabian Nights Disney song. A song, along with its Aladdin compatriots, which I spent the better part of a day finding covers for just to listen to on repeat while I worked.

This one’s now officially my longest comic project, with 14 panels, two over the past record since I added the White Knight kiss at the end. I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. Not sure I’d say it was more difficult than my Vanity of Vanities post, but for this one I actually knew how to use my editing software going into it (at least somewhat).

Put a lot of work into this one, been working on it on and off since February. Took a few breaks for vacation, to make my memorial post for Rooster Teeth, and another five meme edits or so, but I came back around to it. First half was pretty easy, relatively minor edits inserting characters into scenes and so on. The second half with Jaune and Weiss was tougher though, with color correcting, merging poses, redrawing features, drawing Jaune’s entire head to fix some lighting issues, etc. Really like how the edit to make Jaune strum his guitar turned out.

The time it took to make the whole comic got me down a little, until I did a bit of math. Including my side projects since starting this, all the scripting and editing and all, I’ve been pumping out a panel every two days. That seems pretty good to me, that kind of accomplishment makes me a little proud of myself.

Really need to get around to watching the second part of the Justice League Crossover movies. It’s got a few Vacuo scenes that might make things a little more authentic instead of me just using Saphron’s house and pretending it’s a suite in Vacuo. I do love taking yet more character stills from Jaune and friends experiencing deep trauma and turning it into something positive, been making that a bit of a personal habit. And I’ve got to say, the background for Jaune and Weiss’ scene is really beautiful, pulled it from when Sun and Neptune hear Ruby’s message about Salem. That’s just a really good shot all on its own, I even saved a copy for my computer’s wallpaper after editing out the two.

Posting a big RWBY White Knight edit, watching not one but two RWBY Beyond episodes, and all on the trail of the news that RWBY’s found partners that they’re negotiating with and that the creative team is expected to stay on. And I'm sipping bubble tea. Life is good.

Anyway, pardon the long write up. I’m invested in this one, and am quite pleased with how the comic turned out. I hope you all get a kick out of it as well!

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

House Tour (not the house we wanted, but the house we have)

Fandom: Poppy Playtime.

Synopsis: Angel (referred here as "you") introduces their house to the toys after the events of the game.

---

"It's not much", you hurriedly tell the group. "And it's not very big, we'll have to get a bigger house as soon as possible, can't forget to immediately look for what's on sale around here".

You stop on your tracks to face the door to your house, hearing the others stop just behind you. Searching for the right key, you add:

"Also please don't mind the fact everything's a big mess, I'm more organized than that but last time I was there it was a week or so ago and I left in a rush".

"Don't apologize, Angel", Poppy replies back, as gentle as ever. "I'm sure it's not even that bad! And, look, even Kissy agrees with me! Right, Kissy?"

The taller girl mutters a quiet "hm-hm" sound.

"Nothing will ever be as bad as the factory, Angel", Dogday adds. You turn around to see Huggy still holding into the dog's poorly-adapted wheelchair, smiling in return. "Besides! You're here with us now! That alone makes things a lot better".

"You guys give me too much credit", oh, finally, you found the key! "I'm just doing what I have to. Anyone else would do the same".

"Li-ar", Mommy Long Leg's voice echoes. "No one never ever took care of Mommy when she was hurt".

"I was the one who tore your arm off, I kind of had to help".

"Li-aaaar".

You sigh, finally opening the door and stepping inside: "C'mon, everyone, it's pretty small but it should do the work for now".

You counted the toys one by one as they entered: Bunzo, PJ, Poppy and Kissy, Dogday and Huggy, a very bubbly Miss Delight guiding Catnap inside, all the mini huggies, all the mini critters, all the other mini toys, then Mommy Long Legs. More than 80 in total.

Thankfully the money you got from that case was enough to cover a house and finances and medical expenses for at least an year for every single one of you. You still didn't know how the court case against the remains of Playtime would go, but with all the evidence against them, it should be enough money for a lifetime, right? You would never be able to pay for everyone's treatment with your current job...

"Angel, dear?", Miss Delight calls. You smile, give one last look outside, and close the door. "What an interesting house you have!"

"Oh, it's nothing much", you put the keys in a small counter, taking off your jacket and throwing your bag in a corner. "Huggy, can you help put Dogday in the sofa?"

"Angel, I'm very sure I can-"

"You need to wait two weeks before you can do any big moves, don't you even think about moving yourself only using your arms again unless you want another emergency surgery, big dog", you immediately cut him off. Dogday sighed, Huggy happily offered his hands to help the big puppy. The mini critters mischievously laughed. "Same thing for every single one of you. Medical orders".

The house's clock pointed at 8:44 PM. It wasn't late, thankfully.

The toys all gathered around the living room, curiously staring and exploring its corners. Someone - Bunzo, maybe? - had entered the kitchen, probably just wanting to take a good look at this new weird place. You decided to let them be, turning the TV on and trying to pick up a channel:

"So, uhm", you mutter. "This is the TV. Didn't change much since '95 except for maybe image quality. We now use CDs and DVDs instead of just cassette tapes, but I'll show that to you guys later. You can grab anything from the kitchen, I don't mind".

You blinked, hearing the sound of your Windows XP computer turning on. Somehow, PJ Pug-a-Pillar had figured out how to use it. You would be proud if not a bit worried:

"You found the computer", you announce to the group. "Okay. Don't mess up too much with that thing, I need it to work. I'll show you guys how to use the internet later, I think you would like it".

Long Legs decided to sit next to the TV, stretching her neck so she could watch it better. The mini critters seemed to really like her, as they still haven't let go of her arm.

"Angel, do you think the news are all still about us?", the spider doll asks.

"Well..."

You sit on the floor so Dogday can see the TV from the sofa. Bunzo immediately jumps to your lap, making himself comfortable. You pet him as images of the abandoned factory covered with cops and investigators appear, headline written as "PLAYTIME CO. INVESTIGATION STILL UNGOING".

You sigh. Bunzo seems to look up at you, confused.

"Is that a good or a bad thing?", his ears move. You stop petting him.

"It's not good nor bad. If the news aren't screaming how the investigation found out how you guys were made, then we can assume the Prototype is doing a good job".

"He always did".

Everyone, including you, turns to stare at Catnap. He decided to sit next to the sofa, lying his back against the wall. The ceiling was too low for him to be comfortable like that...

"Mommy cannot agree with you", Long Legs groans. "Would you want to know hy?"

The feline simply stares uncomfortably at the pink toy. She rolls her eyes, muttering something about him denying the evidence before turning her attention back at the tv. You're glad these two didn't get into a fight again, but you still don't feel comfortable. Most of the bigger toys are sitting on the floor, with the smaller ones either using Kissy, Miss Delight and Dogday or the sofa as a sitting spot.

The images in the TV then cut to you, eye bags and all, staring at the camera and politely answering a question.

"Look!", Bunzo points. "It's mom!"

"I'm not your... Nevermind", you put some of your hair behind your ear. The you in the TV keeps talking:

"No, I didn't see any guards or cops when I came in there", you shake your head, tired.

"No security at all?"

"I mean, the factory is full of weird machines you need to use a thing called a 'grabpack' to make them work, but there wasn't anyone who stopped me from grabbing one and going inside. I bet even a child could have gotten themself trapped in there from how lonely things were outside..."

"Do you think one of the monsters escaped the factory before?"

"The toys, is that what you mean?"

Your eyes finally showed some light as you bit back at the word choice. You lifted your head, now more determined than before:

"If any of them escaped, they are either dead or locked away somewhere by whoever knew about what Playtime was doing. Or do you really think these kids wanted to stay inside that prison? They were fighting each other over what to eat, for God's sake!"

"Angel...", Poppy muttered. "You didn't tell anyone about the..."

"Cannibalism? Hel- heck no. You guys will be regarded as monsters by a lot of people if i do that. Until things calm down, no one outside the investigators of our case will know".

You decide to get up from your spot, much to Bunzo's dismay. You pet his head before stretching yourself, hearing some bones pop:

"The kitchen is right there. Bathroom is there, and my room is there. I don't think there's any clothes good enough for you guys, but we'll see. You must be hungry, right?"

You step into the kitchen, followed by some of the toys and Long Leg's head stretching head. Miss Delight excitedly walks close to you as you look for what you have.

"Well...", you mutter. "I have some snacks and food, but not enough for all of us. Maybe we should get some pizza today, and tomorrow I'll rush to the grocery store".

"... Pizza?", Bunzo asks in the big toy pile that formed at the kitchen's entrance, his head between the smaller huggies. "What's that?"

"It's an italian dish made from bread dough and topped with plenty of ingredients!", Miss Delight answers in her cheerful tone before turning to face you: "But... You have pizza, Angel?"

"No, but I can just ask someone to deliver to us. I have the money", you grab the kitchen's telephone, searching in the drawers for the number of that one very good pizza place your friend worked at. "Since no one here ever ate a pizza I'll just ask for five of each flavor. Might do the job, seeing how many of us are in there..."

You turn, lying against the kitchen's corner, only to realize that everyone was staring at you. Even Catnap had gotten out of his spot, curiously watching, and you could see Dogday's head as he was trying to take a good look at what was going on.

"You guys can explore the house, y'know. It's our house now, not mine", you tell the group, going back to the living room, telephone in hand so the poor giant puppy could be included. Another door was opened, and the mini critters and huggies were now conquering your bedroom. Good for them.

You sat on the floor again. Bunzo proclaimed your lap, and Poppy decided to also sit next to you.

"I don't have to eat, Angel", the doll told you, watching TV. "Prioritize the others, alright?"

"Neither do I!", Dogday replied. "I ate at the hospital, don't worry about me".

You roll your eyes and pet Poppy's head. "I know you don't have to eat, doll, but you, young sir, have to eat. A freaking lot, actually! Didn't I tell you guys food isn't a limited supply anymore?"

A mini critter screamed and something was knocked over. Long Legs immediately got out of her spot, coming out of your room with a mini craftycorn trying to chew on a blanket.

Dogday, however, was whimpering. He lowered his head and fidgeted with his hands: "Are you sure? You did so much for us, Angel..."

"And I'll do even more. I'll be your legal guardian if everything goes well, remember?"

"But..."

Catnap then "accidentally" bumped his tail against Dogday's face. The pup's eyes widened, and you laughed at how offended he looked. The feline pretended to watch television as Dogday stared at him.

"Catnap!"

"I didn't do anything this time".

Now the pup was looking at you for answers. Poppy was laughing as well, all the while Catnap's tail kept bumping into Dogday.

"Listen to what the Angel has to say", he simply told him. "And eat".

You were smiling. Never in a thousand years did you think your life would become this weird, but you were glad it was like this nonetheless.

Then you realized something, and crossed your arms:

"Catnap, you do realize you'll also have to eat a lot instead of giving your food to the mini critters, right?"

The feline's tail stopped moving.

"What".

[gyusfavlibra]

DON’T CALL ME THAT | JOHNNY SUH IMAGINE

PAIRINGS: female YouTuber! x Johnny suh!

Warnings: slight angst, fluff

"What's up yall, welcome back to my channel. If you're new here, my name is Y/n. And welcome to my YouTube.

So the idea for today is to pull a prank. If you're on my channel a lot, you know I pull tons of pranks on my boyfriend and family.

We're both really big joksters so I really like to just take every opportunity possible to get him before he gets me.

So as of now, Johnny is playing video games with a few of his best friends online. I wanted something that would lower his mood for a better reaction but something he wouldn’t take as serious after I reveal that it’s a prank.

Now, if you follow Johnny and his group, NCT, then you know they all love to call each other "bro". Johnny and I don't really have big pet names besides our nicknames and "babe". I just think they're weird, but I have never once called him bro so he'll definitely notice right away.

At least I'd hope so. I'm gonna just try an play it like like normal. Act like I did nothing wrong and go from there. I think we'll get a very good reaction which will be great, because that's what we want.

So before we start, like and subscribe. And leave prank ideas down below for next time.

*transition😐🖕*

Setting up a camera, Y/n made sure it could record the part of the room they both sat on. It captured a wide view of the area. Pleasing the wanted expectation.

Giving the camera a thumbs up, Y/n sat on the bed, placed behind Johnny's small gaming set up with his PS5 and computer he used quite a bit. Whether it was work or just free time fun.

Minutes had passed before Y/n decided to actually start anything. Giving the mood a moment to chill before it got tense.

She sat in a laying down position so her side was aligned with the camera sat on the dresser. Tapping the busy guy on the games' shoulder, she pointed to her blue transparent water bottle on the desk. Johnny uncovered one ear.

"Can you please hand me that?"

Obeying her question, Johnny picked up the closed item and handed it over. "Thanks bro."

The words kind of echoed in his ear. Causing his eyes to linger on hers for a second before ignoring it and turning back to the game. Y/n looked over to the camera and snickered. She didn’t think she’d have this much excitement jolting through her body so fast. But she was definitely wrong.

She motioned a shushing action to the device before pretending to act serious once again. Y/n scrolled through a couple things on her Instagram discovery page before calling out.

"Hey bro, do we have any ramyeon left? I’m so hungry.”

Johnny stated a hold response to the online gamers he played with, and turned around. He pulled a headphone piece off one hear and looked dead at Y/n looking at him with raised eyebrows.

"What?"

He decided to chuckle. "What'd you say?"

"I asked if there was leftovers? I’m hungry.”

He didn't reply instead glared at her with the fake smile he tried his best to keep plastered so Y/n didn't think there was something wrong. "Bro, what?"

"Y/n, don't do that," he dryly laughed again.

It took everything in her to not laugh herself. Which the need successfully passed but who knew how long before it does a 180 and comes back.

"Do we have ramyeon or not?" the individual asked, pulling at her bottom lip.

Johnny puts the ear piece back on and waved his hand at Y/n. "In the fridge."

"Thanks, bro."

The boyfriend sighed. Rubbing his hair through his dark brown hair. The fake smile was now far gone. Not liking the friendly pet name. Y/n climbed off the bed and quietly grabbed the camera. Running off to the kitchen, sure to shut the door behind her.

"Alright, so far so good guys. He's just laughing it off for now, which most of you guys know that Johnny will fake laugh when he’s uncomfortable. Or kill you with his sharp look. And the laughs he was doing were definitely fake. Like he was upset and wanted to say something more serious, but didn't wanna start a mess or create tension. So we're good so far."

Even though grabbing food wasn't apart of the plan, Y/n grabbed some actual food anyway. Also noting that if she didn't, he'd question it.

Y/n was sure to hide the camera in the kitchen just in case he came out or the scenes moved to another area since the view in the kitchen overlooked their whole shared apartment. That included, dining area living room, and the hallway which led to their bedroom and bathroom.

Minutes had passed of Y/n preparing food, Johnny had noticed her timed disappearance and came out into the food area to view her hungry progress.

"You want some?"

He shook his head. Instead grabbing a soda out their cooled containment. "Okay, bro."

Y/n sat in a chair at the dining table. Beginning to chew away at her food. Johnny clapped his hand down on the counter with a huff before joining her.

"Damn, brooo, this is so good, bro."

He stared at his phone blankly, wanting so desperately to address his issue, though he held it back for a second. But only for so long.

Y/n, stared at something random before giggling then placing a fist over her lips. "BROOOOO, LOOK AT THIS!"

She turned their phone to Johnny, showing a fanart piece of one of his bandmates. He nodded to the art piece and flicker his orbs to his lover. "Damn, bro, that was so cool."

He tossed his phone down onto the glass table.

"Y/n."

"Hm."

"Why do you keep doing that?"

She stared at his blankly. Mouth full of chewed food. "Doin’ what?"

"Don't act clueless. You know what you're doing?"

"Do I? I thought I was just enjoying my food and looking at art. Bro, like, what's the problem?"

"Y/n, stop fuc- stop doing that."

"Bro," she set her chopsticks down into the bowl of noodles. "Seriously, Johnny, what am I doing?"

"Don't call me that."

"What? Johnny?"

"No. The other thing?"

She looked around, pretending to not know exactly what he was talking about which made this even funnier. She almost laughed but pulled it off by clearing her throat then drinking water from the glass beside her.

"Bro, I don't get it-"

"Y/n, don't call me that. I'm not kidding."

"Call you what-"

"Bro," he exclaimed. "Don't call me bro. Seriously don't do that."

"Bro? Why not?"

He shook his head. Pulling her bowl of food into his direction. "You don't get to call me bro.

"Why?"

He stole a bite. Passing it back. Johnny swallowed the food and waved his finger side to side. "Only friends call people bro. We're not friends."

"Uh-," she hiccups. Holding a hand over her heart. "We aren't friends?"

"No. We are dating. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Lover and lover. You're not suppose to call each other "bro"."

"But I like it."

"I do not care. Don't do it again."

"Bro, wh-"

"Y/N! STOP!”

She giggled. Holding her hands out with a shrug. "WHAT? There's nothing wrong with it!"

"There's everything wrong with it! If you don't wanna call me babe, love, or whatever then call me by my name or anything, but do not call me bro. I hate it."

"Mark does it?"

"Mark is my friend."

She sat back, a good tiny idea popping in her head. "Wait, so If I break up with you, I can call you bro?"

Johnny went into full blank space mode. Absolutely shocked by her question, even more shocked that she would even have the guts to ask him that, let alone think of it.

"Stop. It's not funny.”

"Bro, I'm just-���

Johnny arose from the table, grabbing his phone to shove it into his pocket. He exited the room which caused Y/n to laughed out loud. Finally not able to hold her laugh in no more.

"Wait! Bro, Johnny!"

Grabbing the camera, she ran into the bedroom where he had previously gone. Sitting back in his gaming chair. She came up behind him and wrapped an arm around him from behind, placing a kiss on his cheek. Which he seemed numb towards. "B-"

"Don't-“

"I'm not. I was gonna say babe. Look, it's just a prank. Look-"

"Stop," he nudged his head to the side. Y/n laughed again, peppering kisses on his cheek. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Forgive me!"

"No."

"Awe man, guess I'll give my love to someone else.”

"You gonna call them bro too?" he asked, followed by a chuckle.

"Please forgive me!" she yelled in tiny. Nuzzling her nose on his cheek. Johnny turned to look at her. Noticing her beautiful giggly side that he couldn't lie, he did love it very much.

"Tell me you love me."

"I love you."

His cheeks began turning a bright pink. "Again."

"I love you."

"Okay, you're forgiven."

Johnny grabs the camera holding it outward so they could film the outro together. But his idea of that scene was different than a usual one.

"Okay, she got me yall. I was mad. Like and subscribe. Comment team Johnny because I will get her back later on. Just saying."

"You're mean.'

Johnny smiled and pecked her lips. "And that's the outro. Bye bye."

[ilovetheriddler]

Hi, I hope you’re having a lovely day! I was curious if maybe you’d be willing to write Arkham Eddie who is conflicted with his feelings about the reader? Perhaps the reader is a villain/anti-hero/hero, and they’re working together briefly, and maybe after an argument he finds himself aroused and… takes care of himself?

Oh! An Arkham Eddie Request! How delightful! I hope that you're having a wonderful day as well. This was quite exciting to write, so I hope you enjoy this!

Insatiable Need.

(Arkham Games) Edward Nigma x F!Reader.

Word Count: 1,023.

Contents: 🔞🔞🔞 NSFW 18+! Conflict, Arguing, Fantasizing, Masturbation.

Edward couldn't say that he was in any way pleased to have to work with some so-called hero. In fact, it infuriated him. Someone of his brilliance having to agree to assisting someone? It was appalling to think about. However.... you were at least different enough from that pesky bat to a point where it was at minimum better than working alongside him!

You seemingly enjoyed his riddles and actually would attempt to answer them to the best of your abilities. And it made him... feel something, he wasn't sure what it was exactly, but it was definitely something.

Of course, the two of you only needed to work together briefly on stopping someone else's big scheme. Eddie couldn't help how smug it made him feel to know that someone finally acknowledged how his genius was absolutely needed to stop this. It's not like batman would ever be willing to work with him, yet here you were, standing next to him as he worked away on the device you needed to shut down this new scheme. It was... a pleasant experience having someone actually be there nearby while he worked, much to his surprise.

He had a wide grin on his face as he handed you the finished device, expecting your praise and endless thankfulness to him. Instead, you criticized him for taking too long and putting lives at risk. The grin immediately fell from his face.

"Oh, excuse me! I can't rush my brilliance. It takes time!"

"Well, we don't have time. Lives are at stake here! Ever second counts....!"

"Is this the fucking thanks I get for so graciously offering to help you?! Unbelievable!"

You let out a surprised yelp as he grabbed ahold of your shirt and pulled you closer to him, the irritation evident on his face.

"I pour my time and effort into this for you! And I get your criticism instead of your admiration?! I'm I just a fucking means to an end to you?! Huh?! Is that-"

He was cut off by a sharp stinging sensation, and after a few seconds, he realized what had just happened. You slapped him.

"D-did, you just slap me...?"

"Listen, Eddie, I'm sorry, but you were getting a bit-"

"Take the damn device and get out of my lair...."

You stood there silently for a moment before doing as he suggested, leaving his lair with the device in hand. Meanwhile, Eddie sat slumped in his chair. He was furious, enraged, irritated, and worse of all extremely turned on, damn it!

He stood up and frustratedly made his way into his room, slamming the door behind him. He couldn't stand this. He couldn't stand that a filthy hero was making him feel such things! He glanced down, the evidence of his growing arousal already slightly noticeable against the front of his pants. He just couldn't ignore this, not when he was this worked up.

He quickly pulled up an audio file he had put together on his computer, one good thing about always recording every conversation he had with someone else in case he ever needed to use it against them, is that he had your voice recorded as well, more importantly saying his name. Not exactly in the breathless and needy tone he'd prefer to hear it said in, but it would still do just fine for assisting in his fantasies.

He quickly fumbled around, attempting to unbuckle his numerous belts, and once he had, he tugged both his pants along with his underwear down, His already semi erect cock springing free. He reached down and took hold of it, moving his thumb to smear some of the precum already leaking out of the tip around, pulling his foreskin back just slightly as he groaned wantonly. He spat in his hand after a bit, using that along with the precum to lubricate his cock somewhat.

He grasped his harding cock firmly, closing his first around it and slowly starting to pump it steadily. A moan slipped past his lips as his head fell back slightly. He progressively increased his pace as he continued, his mind filling with the filthy fantasies he had about you. About you lying on his bed, whining and begging for him to fuck you, admitting that you were wrong to not offer him the praise he so rightfully deserved, admitting that he was better than all those heros, that he was better than that Bat! That you loved him, needed him, couldn't handle not having him inside of you. That's what he wanted.

"I-I'm so much better t-than... A..ah! ...him... aren't i?! Mm... F-fuck! ...I make y-you... feel so good, don't i?! Ah..."

He tried to imagine that it was you that he was fucking as he thrust his cock into his hand, repeated gasps and groans escaping him. You'd be absolutely perfect for him. He'd make you feel like you were on cloud nine if you'd just give him the chance! He couldn't help but wonder what your skin would feel like against him, how the sound of skin slapping against skin would sound like music to his ears if it was only yours, how that sweet voice of yours would sound screaming his name over and over again all night long, how it would feel to fuck you senseless until he was satisfied.

His body tensed up, and a broken moan got caught in his throat as his hips jerked slightly, Spurts of his warm cum spilling into the already filthy floor. He stood perfectly still for a few seconds, catching his breath. Once it had stopped, he carefully tucked his now flaccid cock back into his underwear, pulling up that along with his pants back up.

He knew one thing for certain, sooner or later, he was going to have you in his bed. No matter what he had to do to get you there. Perhaps batman could be preoccupied with his other rogues for a while? Eddie liked the idea of devoting his schemes and plans for you to handle instead, at least until he got what he wanted, that is...

[satureja13]

It was still pouring when Rubyn returned from the Moisture Farm. And so they moved the fireplace under the Wings of the Millennium Falcon to stay dry. But the wood was already damp, as damped as their mood. Tiny Can left the planet, the Boys, a lot of questions and his transmitter behind - to get lost in space. But why? Why steal money to pay for their school fees if they could have handled it with the loan? And why - oh why did he have to leave the planet (and the transmitter)? How are they supposed to track him down now? They don't have the money to charter a ship and a crew to follow him! As if he knew it! (Of course he does, he knows the Boys better than they know themselves...)

That was a lot of commotion - and a lot to compute - for one day and the others went to sleep soon. Rubyn: "I'm going to make a call tomorrow morning. Maybe I can wing something. I'm not going to let another bot getting corrupted by the dark side. Not under my watch." Jack, always on the bright side of life: "That would be awesome. At least we won't get arrested for allowing Tiny Can to steal all that money when we're lost in space..."

After the others left, Sai allowed himself to break down and cry. Theres's nothing Jack and Sai haven't seen from each other so he's not ashame showing himself at his worst to Jack, his oldest friend: "It's all over now." Jack: "You heard what Rubyn said. It ain't over 'til it's over, hm? Let's sleep on it and tomorrow the world looks brighter." Sai sobbed: "As if I could sleep now."

With no hope of getting some sleep anytime soon, Jack tries to comfort Sai with his universal remedy: good ole distraction. Jack: "Hey, let's browse the latest games! We missed out almost a year of great releases!" Sai sniffled: "O - ok..." And as soon as Jack opened gleam, their gaming portal, Sai smiled again. They love their games and they really missed some stunning new releases. Jack: "Let's see. What are the most promising ones for us?" They looked through the lists of games with the most positive reviews and Jack put some auspicious candidates on his wishlist. They discussed the pro and cons and which one to choose first...

... until... Gods, Tiny Can had the audacity to release the Therapy Game! And what's with that stupid description?! Clearly written by an AI!

The game that almost killed Ji Ho! And that was when Sai's fuses blew too... Sai: "Take that off! We can't let him hurt innocent people!" Jack tried. But gleam wouldn't let him remove the Therapy Game from the store. Of course not. One can not just simply take games off of gleam.

Sai's screaming woke the others and they gathered around the server where Sai had developed the Therapy Game together with Tiny Can. And where he now frantically tries to stop it. In vain. Access denied. Even though Sai was the co-developer! But canny Tiny Can Ltd has all the rights reserved. Sai is so upset, his hands are shaking: "This little piece of junk!" Poor Jack tried to qualify - because he is still convinced his little friend only ever tried to help them: "Sai, look - the game has 93% overwhelmingly positive reviews! No one complained. Tiny Can must have improved the game before release. We left him July 21st and release was August 22nd. He had a month to modify it. And now we know that he didn't steal the money! It's from the sales! I think he did something meaningful for our community. To help other creatures out there who suffer - and don't know what to do. Just like us. Look at all the comments!" And Jack was right. The reviews were all about how happy the players are with the Therapy Game. How much their lives had improved. But Jeb shot Jack a glance - now is not the time to come to Tiny Can's defense...

There is nothing they can do right now anyway - so Jeb took Sai to their tent. Jeb tries a different approach instead: "We will find him. And then you can dismantle him and stomp his filthy circuit board into the ground, hm?"

Sai tightened his grip around Jeb's firm, muscular chest, buried his face in the crease of Jeb's neck, inhaled deeply and sighed: "I love you." Jeb, pulling Sai even closer: "I know." Sai snorted out a laugh. (I wonder if Jack's Romantium orb is still stashed under Sai's bed. And if that's the reason he was able to calm down so quickly ^^')

'… So many tears I've cried So much pain inside But baby, it ain't over 'til it's over So many years we've tried To keep our love alive But baby, it ain't over 'til it's over

… How many times did we give up But we always worked things out And all my doubts and fear kept me wondering, yeah If I'd always, always be in love'

Lenny Kravitz - It ain't over 'til it's over

Outtakes

Jack and Sai being so fed up with broken, annoying high maintenance bots...

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-28

[starker-raving-mads]

For you: Part IV

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX

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"It's easier if we come up to see you," Bucky had said, Steve murmuring his agreement in the background of the phone call. "We're gonna be in the city anyway and besides, ain't it better to do it where you can do all the scans and stuff?"

The plan was sound, and made sense to Peter at the time. But here and now, with Captain America and the Winter Soldier making their way up to the penthouse labs in Stark Tower, the vigilante was questioning his judgement.

"Fri do we - "

"Yes, Mother, we have the schematics loaded and ready for display in both holographic and flat form."

"Okay, okay but do you think - "

"You've practiced attaching and detaching the device enough times that your fluidity of movement has increased by 313%."

"Sure but - "

"Peter," the AI cut off the teen's frantic questions. He fell silent, chagrined; she rarely called him Peter anymore and when she did, he knew it was because he was being too much.

He let out a deep sigh.

"Okay, I get it," he gave up. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be I guess."

"You are," the super intelligence agreed. "I'm glad you've come to see reason. Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers will arrive on the elevator in ETA 10 seconds."

They were coming by so that Peter, 18-year-old, clumsy Peter, could attach Bucky's new prosthetic based on Mr. Stark's assemblage instructions. He was, for lack of any better words, fucking terrified.

It wasn't so much that Bucky and Cap scared him, at least not any more. He had a healthy respect for the pair after everything they'd gone through, but the few meet ups he'd had with the group as a whole had made him appreciate the less-obvious qualities that each hero had in turn. Sure, Bucky was scary as heck in a fight, but outside of that he was quiet and kind of contemplative. Steve was the driving force for optimism and doing the right thing - and also an absolute mother hen.

Instead it was the fact that he was basically going to be attaching this thing, that he did not create, that cost Mr. Stark probably at least a million dollars? Onto the body of a super soldier while his - best friend or boyfriend or whatever they were, Peter really never got clarification - watched over his shoulder. He was having performance anxiety, big time.

He concentrated on those better qualities of theirs as the elevator door opened.

An hour later, he wasn't sure why he'd be so scared in the first place.

"You're really a natural at all this, huh?" Steve asked, peering over all the holodisplays Friday had helpfully pulled up for Peter as he went along attaching circuitry, wires, and faceplates. The blonde's eyes were wide trying to take everything in while Peter, finally confident in the face of the older man's perplexity, worked slowly but surely on finishing the attachment of Bucky's new arm.

"Sort of," the teen chuckled. "Mostly it's just that I spent so long growing up without any of the bells and whistles - oops, sorry," he grimaced after a slight spark made Bucky flinch. They were bound to happen, given that the battery that was Bucky's natural electrical system couldn't be turned off like one could a computer they were changing the parts in. " - that now that I've got all this stuff to make it so much easier, it's more understandable than it probably would've been otherwise, if that makes sense."

Bucky hummed in agreement. "Kinda like training with weights then goin' into the fight without 'em on." His Brooklyn accent was stronger than it had been before. Maybe it meant more of his old self was returning. The thought made Peter happy for the other man.

"Yeah, yeah exactly!"

"You know, I always thought Tony was one of a kind with how smart he was," Steve admitted after a few more moments of silence scattered with the light clinks of metals and wires being maneuvered in Peter's sure hands. "And he is, I'm not saying he wasn't, but you really do him justice here, Pete."

Peter ducked his head, flush blossoming in a great pink wave across his cheeks and the back of his neck.

"Nah," he disagreed quietly. "I'm nothing special. I bet there's thousands more people who would be able to put all this to better use." He sighed.

"No they wouldn't," Bucky said in a sure, firm tone. Peter looked up at him, his curls - getting too long, needing a cut - falling slightly across his eyes. "I've seen a lot of people, kid, and trust me, you are one in a billion."

Peter's breath caught and he stared at the assassin in shocked silence. He was brought out of it when Steve laid one of his large hands over Peter's slight shoulder, engulfing him in warmth.

"Buck's right, son," Steve agreed. A warmth Peter hadn't known since before Uncle Ben passed away washed over him. Something that felt like acceptance and family all rolled into one.

"Thanks," he replied quietly to the both of them. Steve kept his hand there for just long enough that Peter could pull on that warm memory with ease later.

›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹

"Shoulda seen him, Pete," Bucky said, tossing a foam football to Steve, who tossed it to the teen, who tossed it back to Bucky in a smooth triangle stretching across the lab. "Stevie used to be a beanpole - short and tiny and yet had the bite of a gator wrapped up in all that acne and asthma," he chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah, live it up, wise guy," Steve replied, smile taking any bite that might've been there right back out of it.

They were, ostensibly, calibrating Bucky's arm. Peter had finished with the installation a while ago and had gone back a few times to make some minor adjustments. They'd been tossing the toy ball that was he and Mr. Stark's 'thinking ball' between themselves to test the arm's dexterity, reliability, and maneuverability, but the spider was pretty sure it was as good as it could be at this point without a real endurance test. Still though. He was having fun, relaxing with his new friends. He could unwind with them in a way that Ned and MJ just couldn't do for him. He tried not to feel bad for spending so much time away from his friends but his life was just so - different, now. He'd make it up to them.

"I used to have asthma too," the teen admitted, tossing the ball to Bucky again. "And glasses, and all sorts of problems." He shrugged, catching the ball from Steve. "The bite kind of cleared all of that up, though I still have problems with the cold."

"Oh yeah?" Bucky asked, thoughtful.

"Never really knew why, just seemed to stick around, honestly feels a little worse but I don't know if it's just like that in comparison to like having none of the other stuff to distract my senses from it."

"You know," Bucky drawled, pausing as he caught the ball, holding it cocked against his hip. "Spiders can't thermoregulate. It's why you never see 'em in winter." Peter and Steve both blinked at him. In an act of absolute insanity, the winter soldier blushed. "What?" he asked, defensive, throwing the ball more firmly than necessary at Steve. "I read!"

"I never really thought of that," the younger man admitted. "That might actually bear looking into. Hey, Fri?"

"Yes, Mother?"

"Can you make a note to research that?"

"Of course, Mother. Also, this is your reminder that it is 2pm and you have not yet eaten."

"Thanks, Friday," he grinned. He caught the older men looking at him. "What?"

"Mother?" Steve and Bucky asked in unison, smirks firmly in place. He covered his face with his hands and groaned.

Peter had lunch delivered from his and May's favorite Thai place, leaving a hefty tip. It was still weird to him to just…having access to money now. He hadn't really used it except to pay for things like food and help May with bills and pay for his enrollment to Columbia. He was relieved, honestly, that the sudden influx of cash and power hadn't gone to his head. He liked to think it wouldn't but he was as human as everyone else and he'd seen good people do terrible things for cash.

Lunch with Steve and Bucky was good. It felt just like a continuation of the last few hours they'd spent together, like hanging out and just being friends. Refreshing, after everything. He'd answered embarrassing questions - like why Friday called him Mother (and then teased Steve for not getting the reference, even though Bucky somehow did), establishing a promise to have some kind of movie night so that he and Bucky could show Steve the legendary Alien films, and of course answering even more awkward questions.

"So no girlfriend?"

"Uh, nope, no not right now."

"Boyfriend?"

"Uh - "

"It's okay if you have a boyfriend, you know - "

"Or even a nonbinary partner! I hear that's a thing now, too, though I guess it always was and we just never really talked about it - "

"What Steve means, Pete, is no judgement from us. What's judgin' ever got anybody anyway?"

"Thanks guys, but no, no partners of any kind right now."

"Hmmm."

"What's that look for?"

"Still hung up on Tony, huh?"

"W-what??"

"It's okay, I get it, Stark was a handsome man. Don't look at me like that, Stevie, I know you ain't blind."

So yeah, awkward. Though, kind of sweet too? It was really kind of Bucky and Steve to just get it when it came to him and his feelings for Mr. Stark, as unrequited as they would always be. Felt a little easier to breath after that conversation, honestly. Ned and MJ had teased him constantly about his crush on Mr. Stark. May had too, for a while, though she'd stopped after - well after everything.

Apparently the billionaire and his aunt had done a lot to support each other while he was Blipped. Aunt May talked about Tony a lot differently, more supportive and less teasingly, than she ever had before.

He sighed, exhausted, spinning on his stool in the lab. Steve and Bucky had left a little while ago and he was still lost in his thoughts. He needed to stop thinking about this. About Tony Stark. He looked around.

"Guess it's kind of hard to not think about him when literally everything looks like he's about to walk right back in," he said to himself. He didn't want to get rid of any of it, but - "Fri, baby?"

"Yes, Mother?"

"Put on the Stark-Parker Playlist #3. I've got some cleaning to do."

He spent the next two hours decluttering everything he could. Pens and pencils back where they belonged, rinsing out the coffee machine, papers getting filed away, tools and loose screws and wires being organized. In the end, the lab looked cleaner than he could ever remember it being. And it still felt like Tony, for sure, but it also felt like a breath of fresh air.

He slid his stool across the room to the last filing cabinet. He knew this was where all the experimental files got stored, just random notes on thought experiments and the like. All the real experiments - the weapons and suit projects - were all stored in Friday's cloud, but bits and pieces of physical hardware were inevitably tossed here.

As he pulled things out and arranged them on the floor to get some sense of what exactly was in the cabinet, he slowly realized that the things he was pulling out weren't exactly random. His piles were forming a pattern on the floor, piles of notes about holographic improvements next to auditory transcription, and weirdly a pile about how birds can mimic sound with their vocal patterns.

He stepped back from the landscape he created, scratching his head.

"Friday?" he called, tilting his head back and forth as though he were looking at a picture that was just slightly out of order.

"Yes, Mother?"

"What the hell am I looking at?" he asked. He was slightly frustrated. He could tell all this went together but - but not how. Like a puzzle missing one too many pieces.

"On the floor in front of you are assorted piles of - "

"No, no," he shook his head. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he said, "Sorry, I should've been more clear."

"It is okay, Mother. I am still learning. What is it you would like to know?"

"It looks like all of this - stuff - the notes and the research and things - like they all go together. Was Mr. Stark working on something?"

Friday was quiet for a moment before saying, "Yes, though I am not sure he ever meant for the research to be conclusive or be shared." Her voice was hesitant.

"So, he stopped researching?" Peter asked, mind turning over what the man could've possibly been working on.

"Yes."

"Was it because he hit a dead end?" The thought of being able to finish something that Mr. Stark couldn't was invigorating.

"Yes and no." Peter narrowed his eyes, looking up - even though, technically, Friday was everywhere in this lab.

"Fri, what are you holding back from me? It's not - " he paused, " - it's not dangerous is it?"

"Not in the manner a weapon might be." He groaned.

"Friday," he said in the same tone Aunt May used on him when he was edging around a subject.

He figured he might've gotten it down right when she answered, "Boss had been investigating the best and most accurate methods of recreating natural intelligence."

"So, a new form of AI," Peter clarified.

"No," she replied, more softly. "I believe, based on the results of some of his testing, that he was attempting to recreate a previously known organic intelligence." A pause, and Peter's spidey-sense tingled, ever so slightly. "He was attempting to recreate your intelligence, Mother."

It felt as though the floor had dropped out from under him, his stomach doing a wicked somersault. He had the vaguest sense of vertigo, like he'd missed grabbing a web when slinging high between two buildings in downtown.

"Why - " his voice clicked, throat dry from shock. "Why would he - ?"

"If I were to posit," Friday said in that same slightly gentle tone. "I have watched you and Boss both, together and on an individual basis. From some of the similar actions you both have taken, I can extrapolate that, in the best way I am currently able to describe," she paused, like she did not like the uncertain nature of the information she was about to unveil, "he was attempting to create such an intelligence because he missed you, Mother."

[somefanficrecomendations]

April Monthly Recap

I’m back! I took some time off to finish out the semester and get my life back in order and I’m finally able to post again. I’ve barely had time to post about fics, let alone read them, so this month’s recap is a month late. But hey, better late than never?

BATMAN

Plato's Allegory of the Batcave by hppjmxrgosg (gen), 2k, Dick Grayson Character Study “So who do you think was the angstiest Robin?” Stephanie asked. In which Dick Grayson contemplates what Robin meant to him, what it means to everyone else, and how he has to reconcile the two. OR I get my filthy hands on one (1) Dick Grayson and shake him until a character analysis falls out.

Hat Off to the Bats by dietpudding (gen), 6k, Crack Treated Seriously "I've identified a pattern in the frequency of Mad Hatter's previous breakouts. Data shows he's more likely to stay put after he scores a new hat." "Go on." Steph perks up in her seat. Now that she knows to look for it, she can easily spot the manic twink to his eye that Tim gets whenever he's about to act a little unhinged. "I like where this is going." Tim's lips twist into a mischievous grin. "How comfortable are we with ghostwriting a heist?" "Extremely comfortable," Steph replies with an equally roguish smirk.

Ad Infinitum; Modified by familiarities (twistsandturns) (gen), 8k, Time Loop Tim is hunched over his computer, bouncing between a report for B (Batman, not Bruce) and a spreadsheet for B (Bruce, not Batman) when Jason stumbles into the cave. If it weren’t for the fact that Jason had been in a somewhat good mood lately, Tim probably would have been a little more concerned about this fact. Still, it’s weird when, instead of ignoring Tim’s existence like he usually does, Jason walks over to him directly and says, “I'm in a time loop and I don't know why. Fix it."

IRIS Log #1548 by deadchannelradio (gen), 8k, Paperwork, Humor (01:25) Red Hood: (Mild static) (Out of breath, slurred) You motherfuckers. Put some fuckin- (01:25) Batman: (Shaking) Red Hood- (01:25) Red Hood: Shut up. Put some fucking respect. On my name. Start fucking copying me. I just got thrown fucking. Um. 40 feet. Into a fucking uh. What's it. Ditch. I'm still fucking conscious. (01:25) Batman: Red Hood, do not move, we're en route- (01:25) Red Hood: What'll I win if I stand up. (01:25) Batman: (Loud) Do not stand up.

Shark Week by heartslogos  (gen), 2k, AU-Mermaid "Do you have a tail? That'd be cool." Bart says, "If you had a tail. Could we give you a sea-shell bra?"

DCU

myself and this body that they stuck me in by misspickman Superboy, (multi), 14k, Non-Binary Kon-El “Oh,” Bart says with a hint of surprise in his voice. “You look so pretty.” “I look like a girl,” he rebuts. He's not sure why he's even continuing this conversation. Bart, blissfully unaware of Kon's internal crisis, shrugs and says, “Well, I think you'd make a lovely girl.”

The Outlaws’ Guide to Parenting by Flowerparrish Pod Collabs (Flowerparrish), kbirb pods (kbirb), Opalsong (Roy Harper/Koriand'r/Jason Todd), 4k, 40 mins, Podfic, Texting Roy: so you know how I had that fling with Chershire for a month or two a couple years ago? Roy: apparently the condom broke Kori: You have a child! Jason: of fucking course we're keeping her

SHERLOCK

The Least of All Possible Mistakes by rageprufrock (Multi), 118k, Female!Gregory Lestrade If ever a people deserved tasering, it’s Holmeses.

[belowzion]

Adam and Why I Felt His Character Disappointing

Sooo, I have watched the first two episodes of Hazbin Hotel! While I did really enjoy Status Quo (The song, the fact that Vox loses his first match against Alastor in the show is quite sad.) the rest of the show, I had a lot of problems. Especially the way they handled Adam.

(Look at this lil' shid.)

The dude-bro thing is just too much. It feels like his entire character is just Mammon but Angel.

Now, I've been working on rewrites for months now, slowly turning it into my own piece of fiction. Funnily enough, me and Vivzie had the same idea of taking from Paradise Falls. I feel like the book is great and can have many different ways of interpreting it. However, I am not here to talk about Lucifer, so lets instead get back to Adam.

So, let me tell you all about Adam in Below Zion and how he is in a bit of an odd spot considering Angels...:

Adam is in his luxury spire, pacing around, phone in hand, another hand flailing, disappointment, sadness and anger is felt in the presence of his holy living room.

"You hold the keys to the Well of Souls, you lead an army of an entirely new species of Angels! And you're letting these absolute nutjobs beat you!? Adam, come on! You're better than that! I mean for fuck sake man, you have the name of the first human! He got like... 100 percent of woman in his time!"

"Good on him, but i have 0 percent. I'm telling you, there's something wrong with women. They Never go for a nice guy like me, only for douchebags who probably don't even treat them right!"

"Well, Adam. Do tell me… how would YOU treat your woman?" "Well, i treat M'lady like a queen, of course! They don't know how good they would have it with me!"

"... M'lady...M'lady? Adam... you don't treat woman like... oh my... Mrghhh! Look, this is the third time this week. Why don't you just come over to me and... we'll talk bro to bro. How does that sound, hm?"

"...I don't know what you have, the Virtuosos (opposite of sinner, worships angels despite flaws) tell me it's Top gentemanly behavior of the century. And yes... I'd love that. I'm coming. And i'm bringing my emotional support Lute."

"... Just... just come over here and we'll fix you up... or attempt to at least..." Adam sighs, and hangs up. Lute comes out of Adams room with a suggestive smile, like she always does.

"Mmm, we're visiting Master Lucifer, sir?"

"We are, my dear Lute."

He says, kissing her forehead.

"Just a trip for a talk between bros. Sounds lovely, doesn't it?"

"Indeed, sir... Would you like me to transform?"

"That would be preferable for the way... yes. Makes getting out of town easier."

She nods... and folds into a brilliant lute! And then... Adam is off... taking flight to meet with Lucy...

Adam is an agent of Lucifer whom is... okay, lets not beat around the bush here. He is an incel. The odd thing here is that, Exterminators are an unofficial branch of Heavens military. So unofficial that even Arch-Angels don't know about them. They are robotic angels, made by Lucifer and a dear friend of his, trained and maintained by Adam. Adam is also not the leader of the Angels. He works at a very high position, that being that he guards the Well of Souls that leads to the conjuration of all the souls on Earth. All Exterminators are made for Lucifer and Adam. The marks on their eyes are the Mark of Lucifer. They belong to him. They do whatever HE wants.

This makes Adams girlfriend a robot.

He has an AI girlfriend.

He objectifies women to no end.

He is also very good at his job as being Lucifers mole in Heaven. While Sinners do pacts with each other, Adam allows Lucifer to have a foothold in Heaven, years after he got kicked out...

Adam is in his luxury spire, sitting at his computer, with a plate of pretzels on the desk, phone in hand, screaming wildly to it!

"What you're suggesting is ABSOLUTELY ludicrous! I will have NONE of it! You will deal with the Brightwing family until next week or I'll make sure to put that pact to good use!"

From the phone, a rather paniced individual speaks!

"Hah, BITCH! You think you have any say in here!? Killing the guys children- what don't tell me YOU have any children!? You do?! Well, uh, thats the thing! Noooot anymore you don't! I'll see you again soooooon~

The other angel on the phone seems to speak in an extremely agitated and afraid tone! Pleading!

"Oh! Changed your mind have you!? Great, GREAT! NOW! I got the whole thing planned out for you, so YOU can't mess this up! Sending you the docs. DON'T. MESS. THIS. UP! BYE, ASSHOLE!"

He hangs up and grins triumphantly…

He continues to deal with the usual fluff. Lucifers extend into heavens business. Angels need a good amount of convincing to stay in line sometimes, but it's good work, and… dare he say it, fun~ With how he feels life is treating him, it feels Great to be able to make the lives of others even worse. It having such a positive impact on the work of his best bud is of course a wonderful bonus!

He is a lonely asshole that lives off of the misery of others and finds purpose in serving someone like Lucifer.

He is a villain, but he is a lot more complicated than just being a dude-bro.

[theultimatesandwich]

Made the decision to watch the presidential debate tonight. Making a live list of some of my takeaways

Trump is a good speaker but damn he's spouting a lot of bullshit

Biden is doing good staying on topic (for the most part) and telling the relative truth but this man can barely public speak it's a little hard to watch (give him some water please)

Trump supports giving Roe v Wade to the states and on allowing abortions in the event of rape or health concern for the mother (but still defends getting rid of RvW in favor of getting it to the states); Biden wants to ensure abortion rights for everyone regardless

Trump is so focused on bashing Biden and fearmongering that he's avoiding answering the debate questions

Trump is very anti-Palestine, Biden is in favor of supporting Israel and trying to establish peace in the Middle East (unclear if he would support the Palestinian state as an existing country)

Damn ok Trump is still avoiding the debate questions this is getting hard to watch

January 6th oo boi I need alcohol for this

Gonna have to fact check so much of Trumps BS after this can't wait to read the news tomorrow

CONVICTED FELON MENTION BY BIDEN

CONVICTED FELON MENTION OF THE MODERATOR

And also convicted felon mention of Hunter Biden yep knew that would come up

Trump says the system is rigged and he did nothing wrong regarding his conviction yet also says the system was right with convicting Hunter Biden.....the hypocrisy I swear

There's gonna be so many memes after this debate I can't wait

Annnnd Trump avoiding the topic again claiming the Charlottesville story is faked (again can't wait for the fact check to come out after this)

Oh good a break good thing they did I think I'm getting a migraine

Weird they're running political ads during the debate feel like I should just be watching my silly local car commercials

And ANOTHER instance of Trump avoiding the debate question to rebute Biden like dude just stay on topic god damn

Alright I'm caving it's alcohol time

Finally getting to the question yayyyyyy

Yes Joe call him outtt

I should just have the dictionary definition of Fearmongering printed out or at least displayed on the screen every time ole Donny opens his mouth

Biden wants the wealthy to pay their damn taxes

Do Americans have better healthcare coverage right now??? I mean the whole system is just a mess Idk if you can claim that right now Joe

(Side note pleaseee let them talk about student debt)

I should do a shot every time Trump avoids the question and starts his statement by bashing his opponent

I stopped watching the Shibuya Incident arc of JJK to turn on this debate and somehow this is more upsetting

"We have the finest military in the world" ok Biden weird flex but ok

I thought this question was about childcare why are we talking about the military

I'm not going into work tomorrow maybe I should switch from a seltzer to wine. Or rum. Or straight vodka. Unlike American politics I have options

TRUMP AVOIDED THE QUESTION AGAIN SHOT TIME

You went from addiction to immigration again Don I'll send ya some neuroscience papers to read educate yourself before you speak

Spilling tea on both candidates now

Yes Biden you are old try and assuage the concerns you're going to keel over in office instead of talking about computer chip jobs

Yes Trump you are old thank you at least for answering a question for once this debate (but laughing at how he's talking about golf that's not as big a flex as you think)

"I'm happy to play golf if you can carry your own bag" Is Joe Biden trying to settle this debate on the golf course? Is this a high school sports movie?????

I thought these mics were supposed to be muted why are they all talking over each other I thought we could avoid this

Classic politics can't answer a yes or no question

Yes Joe drag himmmm there was no evidence the election was faked

Another break???? Alrighty

Closing statements??? It's almost over????

Biden: tax the rich if you make over 400k to solve inflation and debt and social security, Trump wants to tax you more, handle lead pipes and health issues and lower inflation

Trump: bashes Biden and blames him for all the conflict in Ukraine, Palestine, and USA; more military, more tax cuts, claiming he helped make more jobs or his policys made the jobs in Bidens administration, pro-veteran

Debate analysis time? I thought we were done

Ok I'm going to cut my notes here. My thoughts overall: thought Biden had good points but I'm not super convinced of his mental state for another 4 years. Hopefully he surrounds himself with competent people who can help him get work done. Thought Trump was a good speaker but that's terrifying, considering most of what he was saying was incorrect or avoidant of the question being asked. Wish the moderators had questions about student debt and made the candidates address the questions instead of just the repetitive asking. I did like the choice to have no audience and mics that silenced between candidates (surprised that hasn't been a thing longer)

Anyways form your own opinions, but please go vote and make your voice heard. Have a good night yall

Edit: caught a little of the analysis and thought this quote was darkly hilarious and perfectly summizes American politics right now:

"The most meaningful exchange between the candidates was about their golf swing"

[thehistoriangirl]

Until Our Secrets Drift Us Apart [7]

I apologize because I'm rusty after taking so long in posting a new part of this story, but I hope I will catch the rhythm soon :D

Viktor x Fem!Reader---Modern AU/Marriage of Convenience--- 3.1K ---SFW

> MASTERLIST <- Previous // Next ->

Summary: Upon the surprising death of the CEO of Daxer Corp., the battle for the presidential chair began with unexpected violence. Threaten to lose everything you’ve been working on during your entire life; it’s time you must find a desperate solution to grasp the control over your part of the emporium, and even your own freedom. Which better idea than solidifying your subsidiary's future than ally with the rising tech company, HexTech? And oh, what a special type of alliance it would be…  

Tags: Not-So-Forced Proximity| Marriage of Convenience| Strangers to Lovers| Drama & Romance| Eventual Smut| Domestic Fluff| Post-Wedding|  Not Really Unrequited Love| Fake Dating| Eventual Happy Ending

Chapter Summary: The hunt for your mother's lost will hasn't ended, but Viktor is there to give you words of comfort when you need them--and perhaps even more than that. If you're willing to take it.

7: What Blooms in Winter

Mrs. Emma Quivar was all business when you crossed the spotless threshold of her office outlined in stainless iron and black marble.

Gone were the days where she would greet you with a kiss on the cheek while visiting your mother for business; but you weren’t the same shy teenager wishing to take the least space possible in the enormous penthouse your mother called home anymore.

You still remembered your mother’s words when Emma gestured for you to sit down, with her stubbornly chastising you to erase the word ‘friend’ while regarding her business partners. At the time, you considered it like another of your mother’s quirks, but now you had understood it, a tad too late, maybe.

“My child, hello, hello,” Emma said, her hands gesturing away for you to sit across from her. “I didn’t think you’d have a lovebird tucked away from the eyes of the family.” She chuckled, her gaze miniaturized by her glasses, and yet still piercing to rummage your thoughts. “Your mother would have loved to know about him, that way she wouldn’t have left thinking you were all alone.”

You doubted your mother would care for such a thing if that would’ve happened.

She decided not to marry for a reason, despite the countless business proposals laid over her desk. Just as she thought that there were only business partners instead of friends, she thought so of romantic relationships, carrying in the memories of the Daxer’s tradition of marrying by sole mutual convenience instead of real feelings. Those were frivolities that not even the real frivolities of wealth and power could meet all the time.

Or else—that was something no Daxer was inclined to even consider.

“I see you have read the news,” you muttered. Or perhaps someone had let her know.

“I wonder how you kept it hidden from your mother.” Her black eyes pierced you as Quivar looked at you for the first time, adjusting her glasses to look away from the computer. “You only work and go home. Where did you meet him? He’s… somewhat attractive, I’d say.”

A scoff was about to break free. You were too tired from your family trip for these games.

“Do you keep a copy of my mother’s will? I need it.” Emma was a placeholder in the stock bureau, not much, but she would be interested in how the fight for the CEO position will develop. I know you were appointed with one copy.

Just as the other two ex-business partners of your mother, who preferred to bet on the more obvious winner of the competition, Mathieu.

"Hmmm. And how much will you value a thing such as that?" Emma said, with a hand on her heart. “I held your mother’s friendship very close to my heart.”

It was always about taking. Demand with an unfair deal—and you were also guilty of this, asking Viktor to fake a marriage with you, dragging him into this chaos for a menial reward.

Spend all those upcoming years with you when he could go on and live his life, find certainty instead of more questions after every not-so-accidental touch, the moments right after separating away from a kiss.

Your eyes hardened. “What do you want?”

She pointed at her computer with a sigh. “HexTech is such an ever-growing enterprise; from industrial mechanics to more specialized fields. It has a bright future." Emma smiled. "I hope some of its light can be cast upon me."

Your lips parted, the answer surprising you both.

“No.” Words stern and cold. “I don’t own HexTech, I can’t integrate a new shareholder without consulting it with the board.” Most importantly, consulting it with Viktor and Jayce. It was their dream, after all. You didn’t have any right to tamper with it. “I can give a percentage of my company, FireBird Security, but HexTech is off-limits.”

Emma crossed her arms, the red blazer she wore getting all wrinkled. “Why is that? Your husband won’t approve, by any chance?” She said, her eyes twinkling with mockery. “I thought he loved you dearly.”

“I love him dearly, that’s why I’m not doing anything behind his back.”

The silence hung heavy between you two, both your and her eyes widened,  lips slightly ajar at the sudden outburst.

Your heart picked up speed, skin got hotter, almost prickling with shame. What was that? Standing up with a jump, you decided to cut the meeting short as now it was clear that Emma wasn't on your side anymore—if she even was at the beginning.

Emma clicked her tongue. “You’re still very naïve,” she told you. “To think that man wouldn’t have accepted already if given the chance of being in your place.”

You conjured Viktor's golden eyes shining like molten gold against the evening sun, the chestnut locks of his hair moving with the soft breeze that smelled like grass and summer flowers as you cradled his head on your lap.

You chuckled, amused at Emma’s words, thinking that they had gotten out Léonie’s first, echoed in this office as your aunt poisoned her mind. 

“Say hello to my aunt once you reunite again,” you stated toward her, your eyes boring holes into her face as you glared at her from above your shoulder before closing the door with a slam.

It was so easy for Léonie to move across society picking her best moves while you struggled to even get a foot in this place, which one each day you were convinced wasn’t for you.

Would the voices that whispered usurper ever cease? Even if you got to sit in the CEO's chair? Because you could imagine them bouncing, reverberating with an endless echo inside such a big and quiet office.

What would have been of you if your mother had never adopted you?

For a moment, a childish part of you imagined you working in a suburban area of this bustling city, crossing paths with Viktor once by crossing a street, with either of you looking back.

You couldn't know if the strange sensation located in your chest was sadness, or the eerily unfamiliar sense of relief.

The cozy apartment smelled like coffee when you opened the door, a warm air coming from the swinging door against the chill of the arriving autumn outside.

Viktor was hunched over the coffee table in the living room, papers scattered everywhere alongside a pen that had exploded, stains of blue ink shining against the lamp nearby. Rio was nuzzled against some blankets, deeply asleep.

His brows frowning in focus relaxed at the sight of you, his golden gaze turned toward your figure as you were taking your shoes off.

He smiled. “Hello,” he said, the pen held in his hands clicking in a rapid rhythm as he flapped it between his fingers. “I made coffee, please feel free to drink some.” Viktor chuckled. “It wouldn’t do good to, eh, drink it all by myself.”

“Thank you,” you said, taking off the coat that now was too warm inside the cocoon of the apartment. “I think I’ll take some tea, though.” You tried to smile when he looked at you. “I need something… relaxing.”

Viktor settled down the papers then, taking the handle of his cane tucked in the armrest. “Did your meeting go badly?” he muttered, standing up to walk toward you.

You nodded, trying to curve your lips upward without much success. You didn't wish to burden him with your problems—despite how much you had dragged him already. Sometimes such thoughts kept you up at night, looking at the dim golden light of the living room lamp on way past 1 AM. And you couldn't help but wonder if, in those hours when the silence ate you away, he was regretting his choice.

“I’ll make you a hot chocolate, hmm?” Viktor was already walking toward the kitchen.

“You don’t have to,” you heard yourself stutter. “I’m sure you’re busy.” Just like you, he always was.

Viktor gestured away. “Don’t worry about it. Jayce always tells me I have to take small breaks.” He looked at you with a little smile. “Maybe I’ll start following his advice.”

“With some luck, not all his advice,” you mumbled, which made him chuckle.

“If you think his advice is… questionable, you should wait to hear mine,” Viktor told you, an eyebrow raised.

“Please do tell,” you said, with him helping to pull out a stool in front of the breakfast bar.

“Well, I think—"

You decided the bad idea of opening a package of cookies that were lying there, the sound waking the cockatoo up, who squeaked “Viktor!” before flying to pose next to you in the breakfast bar, her little head bobbing side to side as she looked at your fingers sheepishly taking a cookie out.

“No, Rio. We���ve talked about that,” Viktor scolded her.

You raised the cookie toward the bird. “Here,” you told her in the softest voice you could manage.

Rio lounged at it, breaking the surface with its beak. But then she noticed that you weren’t pulling the treat away, only rotating it so she could bite into it again.

It could be that Viktor was surveilling her, but Rio started to bite slower, her head gently tilting toward the cookie. Even so, you gave Viktor the remaining core of it so he could feed her so close to his fingers. You could still remember the hot pain of the bird’s beak.

“Say thank you, Rio,” Viktor said once the cookie had gone into her stomach.

The bird flapped her wings, flying away toward Viktor’s room.

“Rio!”

"It isn't necessary," you said, although amused by your (fake) husband's relationship with his pet. In other circumstances, you would've joked that Rio was that adopted daughter reticent of trusting her new stepmother. "Don't worry about it."

Rio squeaked, returning triumphant over the breakfast bar. She wobbled to step in front of you, dropping a sunflower seed near your hand and then flying away as quickly as she had arrived.

You looked at the seed. “This is for you.” You held it between your fingers, offering it to Viktor.

“Oh no, no.” Viktor was smiling, gently wrapping his hand over yours with shy fingers, a touch barely as light as the morning sun cast over your face in early spring. “That’s for you.” He chuckled. “A little gift.”

You felt his warm fingers beneath your hand slightly cold from just being outside, your eyes drawn to his in a gentle motion that still made your heart jump. “Maybe I should plant it, and see what blooms from it,” you muttered.

“I have a little pot,” he answered in the same tone, his hand still hovering over yours.

“Then it’ll be like our little child?” You couldn’t stop yourself from saying, feeling stupid as soon as the words were gone from your mouth and into the world.

Instead of hearing a mocking laugh, or to feel his awkward gaze, Viktor smiled and nodded. "Don't let Rio hear this but… yes," he said, leaning against you to mutter such a secret. "And something tells me that it will be as pretty as its mother.”

You giggled like a fool, feeling your face starting to feel hot.

It wasn't impossible not to take him, the way his face was highlighted by the dim golden light from the living room against the bright white bulb in the kitchen, how his eyes diverged from your eyes toward your lips.

Your fingers grabbed the edge of the bar to lean against him, closing the seemingly abysmal distance between each other’s lips.

Always taking.

Today, though, you wished to give.

Shyness tried to overcome your bold move, redirecting the motion of your lips to pose toward his cheek instead, in a mere fleeting peck. Yet, your resolution was higher, closing your eyes shut with force as if you were about to jump off a cliff.

He tasted like coffee, the motion of his open lips slow and unsure, scared you’d pull him away after realizing your mistake.

Though in this moment you could barely register the action like so. It felt… right, something supposed to be. And even if part of you stayed thrilled at the thought, the other was terrified.

Viktor's hand slipped into the curve of your hip, his fingers finding soft and aching skin, wishing for his touch without realization.

If you’d lived in a lie for the last couple of months, what would Viktor consider your relationship to be? Especially with so many blurry lines starting to conjoin and erase in unknown patterns to try and figure out the result—would it be chaos or art?

One moment, you were still in the kitchen with the purr of the milk starting to boil, and the other you were standing at the edge of the restaurant rooftop, with the wind blowing cold at your back and Viktor's warmth hugging you closer, both trying to take you in and to cover you from the harshness of the world.

Who knew what else you'd done if the stove wasn’t starting to hiss in anger from the abandonment of the milk that was threatening with spilling out the pot.

Viktor muttered a curse that you couldn't listen to, not between the cacophony of your beating heart and the sounds of your obnoxiously loud breath.

He went to pour a tablet of chocolate inside the milk, stirring the contents until the forming foam went away. You stayed sitting across from him on the breakfast bar, playing with the little seed inside your sweaty palms.

“Um…” you said, cringing at the sound of your voice in such a quiet room. "You said you have a piece of advice for me?"

Viktor’s cheeks were bright pink, eyes glued to the hot chocolate in the making.

“Eh, yes.” He cleared his throat. “Well, my advice may sound bland, but I think you can make good use of it. I’ve noticed that we have more in common than… ah—than we might initially thought.”

You blinked, it wasn’t at all surprising. You barely saw each other between the long journeys from work, the only sign of companionship being the slits of light filtering beneath the bedroom doors at night.

“Which is why I struggle with asking for help,” Viktor muttered, taking two cups from the cupboard and pouring steaming hot cocoa inside them. “Which is why I would like to offer you my help in anything you could… eh, need.”

You were about to protest, the phrase, ‘you don’t have to’ almost slipping out your lips.

“I don’t do it out of obligation,” Viktor stated, giving you one of the cups and settling in a seat across from yours. “I mean it.”

That was the scary part, because if he did—then what?

“I… I don’t know if I can give you that back. What you’re giving me.”

“I don’t seek retribution,” Viktor called your name, hands hovering as if trying to land atop yours.

“That’s unfair,” you said, thinking about all the passing deals and contracts you’d done in the past, all the infinite pile you’d do for the rest of your life, and how to think of Viktor like just a passing signature between all those pages made you feel.

“Perhaps.” He nodded. “But I won’t pressure you. I know what was getting myself into, and I abide by it, by all of it.”

It was the first time in the day that you smiled, lips curved and with your eyes crinkling close in half-moons.

“Thank you, Viktor.” His words had stirred an idea.

He copied your smile, the glimpse of his teeth glistening against the white bulb of the kitchen lamp. “Of course,” he simply said, sitting idly and silent until you had drunk all the hot chocolate and waiting for you to excuse yourself toward your bedroom.

You'd wish to say that night your dreams came easier, but instead, you felt your thoughts going in circles as fast as a hurricane's, pouring rain of ideas and possible paths to enter between the storm that was starting to form ahead.

The next day, Viktor and you took the day off due to a sudden snowfall that had covered the roads back to the metropolis.

You were ready to start with the preparations of your upcoming plan, yet alas, you knew you needed to visit someone in person to strike ideas first, especially after all the time you spent apart.

He knocked on your bedroom to give you a small plant pot on the side of your hand right after having breakfast together, the ambiance still charged with the unprompted kiss from last night.

“You can use soil from the plants on the balcony," Viktor told you, his cane tapping the floor. “I will go to buy some more later. Ah—yes, I put some of Rio’s seed peels at the bottom, like compost.”

Thanking him, you waited to hear his bedroom door close before emerging toward the living room, scooting to see if Rio was free before opening the balcony door, shivers running down your spine with the sudden freezing air blowing across your face.

“It’s too cold to put you outside,” you said to no one in particular, because the seed was inside your bedroom, over the nightstand. The sky was pure grey, and white snow starting to get dirty with the kids and the cars as the suburbs started to stir with life.

Then, you settled the little pot by the window, making a small hole in the middle with your finger, plopping the little, lonely seed inside, and then lovingly covering it with the black soil that was starting to make your fingers grow cold. It was humid already, so you let it be.

You hoped the plant would survive the inclement weather, that perhaps, once it grew bigger, you could get it another, bigger pot.

The only thing you could do was wait—perhaps the most terrifying thing in a world you were convinced would fail you.

[invisiblequeen]

Noe Bodi Gameplay: Day 29

WE CHECKING IN ON ALL THE SIMS WITH THIS ONE 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Jeremiah (@seulvgi) was up early in the morning, trying to call Kash (@saruin) to talk things out. But she didn't pick up. Of course she was still asleep. He spent the rest of that morning power sculpting through his feelings, determined to meet up with the girl of his dreams and fix whatever was broken.

Kash was actually NOT asleep; she was just unsure of what to say to him right now. She knew she'd never felt anything like this before, but she also knew things were harder with him than they'd been with anyone else. So she made herself a lil microwavable chocolate cake to distract herself from her uncertainties.

Between you and me, I checked their relationship bits. As you can see, these are soulmates with awful compatibility. Which means they're going to have to work twice as hard to have the happily ever after they're looking for. Do you believe they can make it?

Noemy(@beebeesiims) was having a much better morning. After reading an inspirational book of poems, she hurtled into the kitchen with energy on 100 and made TWO excellent dishes: Pasta Primavera and Red Velvet Cupcakes. You are doing AMAZING sweetie.

Pandora(@gloomiegalaxie-sims), exploring the Magnolia Promenade, celebrated her first snow in the SimWorld by skating around the local ice rink with Simeon Silversweater and Ukupanipo Hekekia, funnily enough (cause I know these mermaids aren't feeling the winter weather).

Donna(@elysiantrait) went to the Art Center bar and had a grand time drinking with Kleo(@lotusplum) and Riaan(@wibblywobblytumblywumbly). She wasn't even interested in the art! Maybe she was just looking to mingle with new sims? Well, they all got that wish granted!

You know who was actually there for the art? Pax(@theosconfessions) and Khalil(@fl0pera). Two buds with fine taste. Look at their lil' smiles!

Maike(@fl0pera) was sparring outside in the brick cold because a true slayer never quits training. She's gotten quicker since the last time I saw her.

Rhea(@fl0pera) was changing into her uniform (which isn't cute enough for her) and heading out to work like the hardworking badass she is.

Martin(@starjira) was investigating a possible missing persons case around Willow Creek and ended up sitting in the park to observe who comes and goes in the area.

The only sim around at the time was Hiro(@sofft-neko-sims), who was playing chess with himself.

That night, Luco's(@tr-angyo) house was filled with cheer as he spoiled his guests Felix(@madfeary), Rain(@riverofjazzsims), and Stephanie(@kazuaru) to their hearts' desire.

And look, even Mothman(@occultradio) was there!

Rivers(@gloomiegalaxie-sims) and Lou Howell were watching TV at his place with no problems at first...

Until they remembered it was a Full Moon.

Aaaand last but certainly not least, my simself Noe Bodi was sipping on that late night Bubble at ThirfTea and looking fly while doing it. AS. USUAL.

She also ran into Noemy there, so that was nice. They finally met!

I'm so grateful to everyone who has given a sim to use in this series. I've been having so much fun making myself PLAY the game instead of just taking pictures (as much as i love to do that) because now I can enjoy the gameplay mods I've used up so much computer space to download! 🤣 There will be more coming soon, with more sims and more chaotic interactions, but for now, the representative song for this gameplay is: "People Make The World Go Round."

XOXO

[previous] - [next]

[w98pops]

["Wow, hold your horses, boy! I still need these ribs."

"TOMMYYYYYYYYYY..."]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALETUS!!!

Thomas took a leave just to visit Eric's birthday party. The little guy never been happier.

Some annual rambling, this time regarding Aletus' family, all under the cut.

Eric comes from a family of honest to god Followers of the Apocalypse. Dina and Jonah were childhood friends, growing in the vault, and quickly fell in love with each other. Dina was a nurse and Jonah was a software engineer, their respectable professions earned them a place amongst the Followers after they left their vault.

Their first child was Thomas Williams. A humble sweet boy with a heart of gold. He wasn't a smarty type, so he felt much out of place growing among the Followers. That particular fact was the reason of constant bickering and arguing with his parents

When Tommy reached the enlistment age, he ran away and joined the NCR military force, which was met extremely negatively with his parents, but they softened up after awhile. Dina and Jonah love all their children despite all the difficulties and differences. After the attack on Eric's caravan, and Eric's "death", Thomas mourned harded than the others.

His and his younger sibling's relationship was really really deep, in fact, Thomas' only real reason for fighting was to make the world a better place for his little brother. Which is a damn shame, because after a few years he got the news saying that Eric actually SURVIVED and lived in prosperity as a legionary. Thomas was angry, shameful and really fucking sad. Type of sadness and shame that leave you helpless. He changed his last name to his mom's — Yau — to never be associated with the person his brother has become. After his battle injury, which led to him losing almost all of his vision, he retired from active duty and became a secretary for a high ranking NCR general. He sends money to his sister in Boneyard and thanks god every day that their parents died without the knowledge that their child became a fascist slaver.

Edna is the youngest child in the family. She was born a year after Eric and 6 years after Tommy. She's a bit of a silly girlie, blue hair and pronouns type, and she took a lot from her father. Edna is an extremely talented engineer, like, insanely good. While Thomas was slaughting minorities in the name of freedom and Eric was studying homoerotic fanfiction instead of working on his history major, she was doing STUFF. She mastered computers before she learned how to tie her shoes. After her parents death, she stayed in the Boneyard and practically became a leader of the engineer team. Her straightforward personality and brains earned her a very high place of authority in the Followers community and very justifiable at that. In the year of 2281 Edna is working on her little project "Hippocrates", which is aimed to start mass production of autodocs from scratch. She's super pro-NCR because without her brother's money her project fated to fail, and she can't allow that. Her motivations are not so much as to help people, but to show off her sick programming skills, but as long as she's doing good work I say pop off girlie. General public doesn't know how she feels about her other brother's affilation with the Legion, but she never changed her last name like Thomas did, and there's even rumors spreading that she was contacting him from time to time. Before he died, at least.

That's uhmm 😭😭 kinda all. I'm not feeling good but still wanted to drop some Aletus lore on his birthday, because people love the guy, and I love when people love my guys.

CARD SWAP SPOILER. My little pelican king is a four of clubs. Sharky is a joker.

[blacktobackmesa]

If everyone got to escape the computer for one (1) day, what would everyone want to do with their time? Together, or individual?

Optional if you put Gordon in the game or keep him irl lol

I feel like that's a conversation that they would have together. Something hypothetical that comes up when they're just hanging out, you know? Maybe on a rainy day, where Gordon's not feeling up to any games, and they're all just chilling together in voice chat.

___

"I think... I would want to have lunch."

Bubby snorted. "Lunch."

"Hey, it's achievable!" Gordon defended Tommy's choice. "I like it better than Benrey's plan to test if he can clip through my walls. But, uh. You do have lunch in there."

"But it's not your lunch," Tommy returned. "I don't have food from your-- from where you are! I want to see if it tastes different."

Gordon's eyebrows raised. "Huh. I never really thought about that."

"Now that's a fine idea!" Coomer lit up. "Gordon, isn't there a soda museum one state over from here? I think we could all make fine use of that, comparing flavors."

Tommy shook his head. "The World of Coca-Cola museum in Las Vegas was only open for a few years. We'd have to go all the way to... to the Atlanta one if we wanted to see the tasting room."

"Not that the trip from New Mexico to Nevada is a quick little jaunt," Gordon added. "If we only had a day to spend together, I'd hate to spend ten hours in the car."

Bubby huffed, crossing his arms. "Fine. I guess we'd have to rob a casino somewhere in this state instead."

"Oh, Atlanta's where they got the puppet museum, right?" Benrey joined in. "That's cool."

"If you want-- actually, y'know what? Air travel would be a new experience for at least a couple of you. We could take a plane to the east coast."

Bubby pointed to Coomer. "Good luck getting this one through the TSA. Metal detectors fear him."

The bionic boxer puffed up with pride, pleased with this description. "Now Gordon, I think there would be no better way to spend our time together than fistfighting airport security."

"Alright. So on our list, we've got: rob a casino, spend all of Gordon's money on cross-country plane tickets, get Gordon on the no-fly list, and potentially lose my security deposit," Gordon gave a dry review. "Anyone have any ideas that don't involve the neat getaway plan of going back into the computer? Because some of us don't have that option."

There was a moment of quiet thought.

"You know that scene with the mall from the movie with the sunglasses brothers? I think Bubby should--"

"Benrey, that is the opposite of what we should do."

"Come onnnn, it's not like anyone goes to malls anymore."

"...I've got something."

Darnold's voice was quiet, but it caught the attention of the group.

"Yeah?" Bubby prompted. "Alright, what've you got?"

"There's, um." Darnold hesitated. "I've looked into this before, actually. I've looked up the coordinates of the Black Mesa research facility... well, where it would have been, if it was real. Gordon, did you know it's only about an hour's drive away?"

Gordon blinked. "I did not. Figured it would be deeper into the desert."

"What's there now?" Tommy asked. "Is it, um, an old government site? For missile testing?"

"I bet it's a quirky and mysterious ghost town!" Coomer contributed. "Full of intrigue and quirky locals!"

Darnold shrugged. "Actually, it's... nothing. Not nothing nothing, Doctor Coomer. Just a lot of, y'know. Dirt. Plants. Bad cell service. And a nice view of the mountains."

There was no right way to respond to that information, really. Darnold seemed increasingly uncomfortable as their friends and companions couldn't find a reply.

After a minute, Tommy spoke.

"That sounds really nice," he said.

"Thanks."

"I know that's... I mean, I'm the one who said I wanted to eat lunch, but..."

"No, I agree," Coomer nodded. "I think I'd like that very much, Darnold."

"I wanna see it too," Benrey agreed. "S'like, closure or something. Bubby?"

The older scientist seemed to be lost in his own head. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "I'm not sure."

"...There's also a nicely reviewed winery on the way," Darnold added coyly. "I wouldn't mind checking that out, either."

Bubby gave a light smile. "Well, I wouldn't mind that. If Gordon didn't mind the gas money and all."

"Wouldn't mind a bit."

__

Might go a bit like that, I think! Oh and when they got back from standing in the desert and sampling wine, Gordon would take them to the coolest damn art installation in Santa Fe. They'd all love it.

[skaruresonic]

It was probably mentioned already, but I find hard to reconcile Eggman taking Maria's death personally with him stomping his foot in the Egg Memo because his relatives cared more about the dead ill girl than him.

Much like with Frontiers and his "dear daughter", I can't subscribe to the notion that he only makes it all about himself because you can obviously hear his voice as he speaks and he sounds genuinely somber, not flippant as he would sound if he really was only pissy that a relative of his was targeted. But even assuming that he was... it's still caring about her, even as a symbol? If the narrative is still "Eggman was jealous of a dead girl" (and I'm using "was" and not "is" generously), the short could have mentioned it as a gag, or better yet... make him simply not comment at all about his feelings. It's not relevant. Who is he trying to impress, the audience? Is Eggman trying to appear more sympathetic to us?

Funny how he doesn't even mention, let alone elaborate on his thoughts on Gerald's execution, hm? Even though Gerald going insane after Maria's death is kiiiiiind of important for Shadow? Guess not many people feel bad for the old man :P

Yeah, I've watched the Shadow 101 video three times now and unfortunately I cannot read anything but sadness in his voice when he speaks of Maria and how he still "takes that personally." Frankly, he sounds angrier that Shadow defied him.

---

or better yet... make him simply not comment at all about his feelings.

Just like he did in SA2, ShTH, and Battle. :v

You would think that if Eggman really was speaking from a place of tribalism over the good Robotnik name, he'd rant at least a little about the injustice of Gerald's death, seeing how he created the ultimate life form and GUN repaid his contributions to society with hot lead.

Unlike Maria, on whom Eggman says exactly jack and shit in SA2 except to mention her name as the password to Gerald's computer, the Professor actually does figure into his personal thoughts, if only in an atavistic way.

I don't even know what it is about Maria that he cares about enough to take her death personally. He didn't know her. She wasn't a scientist like Gerald, nor a potentially powerful ally like Shadow, nor even a """useful""" tool in his schemes like Sage. Eggman might as well say he took the Commander's ARK-related trauma personally.

...Unless he's implying that the same brand of obsession that made his relatives speak glowingly of her even after her death also got to him as well, and he's just too tsundere to notice? Or that Sage has made him reconsider Maria in a new light? Or something? Is he just getting soft in his old age?

---

It's not relevant. Who is he trying to impress, the audience? Is Eggman trying to appear more sympathetic to us?

I was thinking about it last night when I realized this is the same flavor as Tails' "I've been wildly inconsistent." Like, instead of making sense as something the character would say or think given the circumstances, it's something the character is being forced to say.

Eggman has no reason to think about Maria, except that he has to mention her as a matter of due course because this is a video recounting Shadow's history. And of course, because he mentioned Maria in Frontiers, gotta allude to that sweet sweet Character Development(tm) to prove our games aren't inconsistent like everyone's always saying. Eggman wangsted about her in Frontiers and he's continuing the trend here. omfg so deep, much continuity, many character development, wow.

Never mind how it made little sense for Eggman to mention Maria in Frontiers, either, except to draw spurious parallels to Sage. "I never knew her" then why do you care? Why do you keep bringing it up? Why don't you mention how your "mad genius" grandfather got riddled with bullet holes?

---

The footage begins to become incongruent with the narration starting at 2:01. People who haven't played the games may glean an inaccurate idea of what happened in them. "Black Doom wanted a champion" - Black Doom says he wants all SEVEN Chaos Emeralds to begin the "prosperity ritual" like SEVEN hundred times in the game (in all caps because that's how it's written out every time lol) and he has no more use for Shadow after summoning the Black Comet into the Earth's atmosphere.

If he wanted a champion, he would not have paralyzed Shadow alongside the others and tried feeding him to his grubs.

Gerald promised Black Doom the seven Chaos Emeralds in exchange for help on finishing Project Shadow. He didn't exactly promise Shadow himself.

Black Doom simply assumed Shadow would side with him because he knew about his past. It doesn't actually matter how Shadow obtains the Emeralds, since BD simply yoinks them in the Last Story.

I also noticed how Eggman complains that Shadow "crushed his armies" instead of helping him conquer the world, meanwhile the footage shows Prison Island blowing up. Someone who has not played SA2 may mistakenly assume Prison Island is actually an Eggman base.

[honeysuckle-venom]

So. I actually started a lot of lifestyle changes about a month ago, shortly after getting my MRI results and checking in with my therapist a bit. I felt 95% sure the hepatologist would tell me I needed to lose weight, and I knew that if I hadn't started at least a little bit on that path before seeing her I would be even more triggered by being told that. Once I did, unsurprisingly, get told that on Monday I further cemented some of those changes and got a bit stricter about certain things, but in general this has been in the works for a little over a month.

I'm basically dieting, I guess, except I'm trying to be healthy about it and make "lifestyle changes" instead of like going on paleo or whatever. The thing is, I don't believe in dieting. I detest diet culture, I hate moralizing about food and fatphobia and all of that bullshit. I love the anti-diet and fat liberation movements, and while I never fully recovered from my eating disorder, that lense helped me more than any other form of treatment ever has. I am, generally speaking, morally opposed to a lot of what I'm doing right now. But I also need to do it, because I don't want to risk tumor growth and complications or surgery. And I know going into it with this specific motivation and attitude is different than just deciding to diet because I think I need to be skinny to be pretty or whatever, that I'm doing something medically necessary and not actually betraying my values, but it doesn't always feel that way, and that struggle is very hard.

I also don't know how to talk about what I'm doing without using diet culture terms and concepts at times. But I need to be able to talk about this whole experience on my blog, because it's kind of taking over my life atm. So I will do my best to warn for things and I will ALWAYS at the very least use the tag "weight loss cw" on all posts related to this, because I don't want to be irresponsible or trigger people, but I also need to be able to talk about my life.

So. Below this is where I really start talking about what I'm doing and how it feels. Warning for some diet culture language, discussion of restricting certain foods, exercise, food journaling, nutritionists, intentional weight loss, and other related topics. No numbers, but this is potentially more triggering than posts related to my food issues have been in the past because I do discuss specific behaviors.

So. For the past month I've been attempting to lose weight. The current strategies I've employed include: exercising every day, keeping track of what I eat in a food journal, and cutting out a lot of "unhealthy" foods. I hate even saying that, I believe that all foods have a place in a healthy diet (and also that health isn't a moral obligation but that's a separate though related issue). But! I am doing a specific thing and don't have better language to talk about it! Saying "less nutritionally dense foods" just sounds stupid so, whatever. "Unhealthy" or "less healthy" it is for now. The biggest change is I'm not eating refined carbs 90% of the time. There's room for a little bit of them but not much. I'm trying to get a lot of protein, fiber, and healthy fats. Lots of vegetables and legumes and whole grains and whatnot. The good news for me is that I actually already really like a lot of those foods. Lentils are one of my favorite foods of all time, I like all beans, I like most vegetables, I like farro and brown rice, I like carrots and hummus, I like all fruits except grapefruits, etc. I enjoy the foods I do get to eat. So that's nice. But even though I ate all of those things before, these days it's all I eat pretty much. I used to also eat potato chips and m&m's and things like that. But I got rid of all of that stuff and haven't had it in over a month.

I'm also exercising every day. So far it's been primarily on my exercise bike that I have at home, because it has a desk attached and I can distract myself on my computer while I bike, because I HATE exercise. I just hate it. I hate being gross and sweaty and feeling like my heart's pounding and I can't breathe, but that's the fucking point lol. My muscles hurt and sweat drips down my face and it's just miserable. But as of today my dad and I have joined the local community center, which has a pool. Swimming is the one form of exercise I like. You don't feel how sweaty you are because you're in the water, your joints don't hurt, you can pretend to be a mermaid. It's so much better. So that's really good news. Hopefully I'll swim a few times a week and use the bike on the other days, and that will make everything more pleasant and also use more muscles than just my legs on the bike.

The thing is, it's actually not that hard to eat this way? My brain is obsessed with food rules, and has been since I was literally in preschool. I have always had various rules around food. Adjusting those rules to be more permissive is incredibly difficult, but adjusting them to be stricter? Not hard. I'm not tempted to "fall off the wagon" or whatever, because those foods have entered a space in my brain called "forbidden" and so I can't even imagine eating them without an alarm blaring in my head. And that's dangerous. The thing that is hard about what I'm doing is I know I'm in relapse zone, but I don't know how to not fucking be there when I'm trying to lose weight. I'm spending hours and hours each day obsessing about food and exercise, planning what to eat next, researching nutrition information and vegan recipes, etc etc etc. It sucks. I get trapped in these awful spirals and it's just all-encompassing. I've managed to avoid the worst behaviors: I haven't looked up fitspo even though I've had strong urges to do so, I mostly manage to avoid counting calories, and I don't let myself look at the scale. My therapist takes my weight once a week but I don't look. I'm trying to keep things on the healthier side, to not just full on relapse. But it's really, really fucking difficult to do both at the same time. I don't know how to find the balance yet.

The good news is that I found a nutritionist who I think shares a lot of my values and is willing to support me with weight loss, which I was worried wouldn't be possible. Bc all the anti-diet folks don't do weight loss at all, and all the weight loss people are...evil? Yeah, evil. But I really feel the need for professional support, even more than just my therapist, and so I didn't know what to do. But I think I found someone. I haven't met with her yet, but I've gotten in touch and hopefully we'll find a time for next week and I'll be able to update with how she is. Because this is really hard, and trying to balance the physical and mental without falling off a cliff is proving impossible without a lot of help. I have good help from my therapist, but if I could have some additional support it would be a good thing. So fingers crossed for that.