#before you could stick a disc in damn near anything

[petrichor-and-moondust]

NO SERIOUSLY. I MISS THESE. WHAT THE FUCK. WHERE IS MY SECOND DISK OF SPECIAL FEATURES. MY DIRECTORS COMMENTARY. MY THEATRICAL TRAILERS?

if it weren't for special features on DVDs i *genuinely* would not be on the path I am now. Some Studio Ghibli disks have a special feature called "storyboard mode" where the original animatic of the animation is played instead of the finished movie. That's what inspired me to want to be an animator! That's what lit that fire! Kids today are LOSING that! Give us the DVDs back! Give us back Xtra-Vision and Blockbuster and video rental stores!

And you can't even rely on a streaming service for movies because they can be removed at any time. I have my own collection of DVDs because of this fact. I have films you can't get on streaming over here because of whatever the fuck reasons. I have six disks of tobey's spider-man films; 3 film features, 3 special features. I have A Silent Voice. School of Rock. I have Into The Spider-Verse with a director's commentary. I have the Care Bears movie from 1985! KEEP YOUR MEDIA PHYSICAL. That way it can't be taken away for bullshit reasons.

the death of dvds is so fucked. what about bonus features

[fyreb1rd]

Call Me a Traitor, but I Chose to Run. 

Part One: The Team

They'd call him a traitor anyway. He needed to keep his friends safe. Tommy has to make a tough call, but he knows its right at the end of the day. As long as he gets to see his friends bloody faces actually smile for once.

Characters: Tubbo, Tommy, Technoblade, and Niki.

TW: Mentions of near death experiences, burn wounds, medical talk, and talk of running away.

*** 

Tommy couldn't even count the things that had happened to him on his fingers. Tubbo had shown him the discs, the button was gone, Wilbur was going mad, Techno had betrayed them, Schlatt knew everything, no one had helped them, and Niki had gotten caught up in the mess. It had been days since he had watched Tubbo's execution. Days since the echo of the fireworks faded. Days since he fought Technoblade in that pit, the fire of pure anger fueling his moves. He had stood on the roof with Wilbur only hours ago, feeling a rush of anger as Schlatt found the fine print. And now there were traitors among them. Traitors among the most powerful group on the server as of right now.

He leaned back against the stone wall in Pogtopia's ravine in an area he had cleared the buttons from. He let his mind wander, back to a day where he felt perfectly at ease even with the swirling tornado of emotions in his heart.

***

So what was I supposed to do? He thought, leaning against the jukebox and feeling the vibrations of the music. Tubbo sat behind him, up against a tree with Niki, who worked at mending his burns and cuts from the fireworks. Tommy wiped his bloody nose on his sleeve, curling his pained knuckles against the grass.

"We gotta stick together. I know we already agreed on that but now we have to." Tommy says, glancing behind him at the other two. They both look at him confused but don't say anything, so he continues, "we can't trust Wilbur or Technoblade. That was shown today. So we need to get away, as quickly as we can."

"I agree with you, but what about Tubbo's wounds, Tommy?" Niki cuts the end of a wrap of bandages and tenderly tucks it into the rest around Tubbo's chest. Tommy tries to ignore the blood that already starts to soak it despite his stitches, "It's evident he's in no state to be running off now. He's going to need weeks time to recover!"

"Can I ride horseback with these injuries, Niki? I have a horse we can use..." Tubbo trails off, watching past Tommy at the ends of the sunset. He looks so tired, Tommy feels a weight settle in his chest as he looks away from the sight of his best friend wounded and dazed.

Tommy restarts the disc and rises towards the sunrise, feeling it heat his skin as it draws him in like a siren's call for a few seconds, then he sighs, turning to face his friends, "I can use the tunnels to find your horse and whatever supplies you have in your bunker... then we can bring it all to Pogtopia and tell Wilbur we're keeping it here for safekeeping. Then, once Tubbo is healed enough, we put him on the horse and get the fuck out of here."

"That's not a bad plan... most of Tubbo's burns are on his upper body... it'll only take me a few days to patch up your guy's clothing... I'd say the earliest we can be out of here would be by the weekend? That's pushing it though... and it'll come down to how quickly Tubbo can heal up." Niki suggests, moving to patch part of Tubbo's face. He grins softly.

"If everything works out, that's the plan," Tommy says, running a hand through his hair. Niki rubs some medicine on Tubbo's wound that makes him flinch but he doesn't say anything at first.

"Let's just stay together, no matter what. We know we can trust each other, we know people are going to break out in fights here soon. I just... don't have any energy to be angry anymore. I wanna leave." Tubbo closes his eyes as Niki continues to clean up his wound. Tommy can see a shift in her face, he knows it hurts her heart to see Tubbo this way. His usual bounce and sparkle are gone, leaving a shell of what once was. Tommy looks away, towards where the colors of the sky are going from a stunning orangey gold to a darkened black and starts to hum along to the end of Mellohi.

***

It was around 7 pm when Tommy took to the tunnels. Kneeling on the wooden path, he managed to easily carve out the rocks they had used the hide Tubbo's tunnels. Getting up, he dusted off his busted up jeans and grabbed the empty bags in his hand. Checking to make sure his diamond sword was still strapped to his hip, he started to rush down the endless halls as quickly as he could. This was riskier now that the tunnels were known areas, so he had to be sharp. It should be easy, he tells himself, it should be in and out.

"Tommy!" Oh god fucking damn it. He turns, readying a sword. But the man in front of him doesn't raise one of his own. He doesn't seem hostile, he seems frightened.

"Vice President Quackity?" Tommy questions. The decorums feel odd to say, but he'd rather not get in a sword fight right now.

"Tommy I— I quit!" Quackity chuckles, almost sounding like Wilbur for a second before he breathes in and his speech steadies, "Tommy. I want to assist Pogtopia. I'm so fucking sick of Schlatt, I can't believe he just— ugh!"

Tommy is truly astonished to see the other so unkempt. Sighing, Tommy lowers his sword, adjusting the bags on his back. There isn't a good way to judge if Quackity is being honest to him nor does Tommy care to investigate it. He thinks he's going to be out of Pogtopia in the morning, it doesn't matter to him.

"Fine, Big Q, be my guest. Just help me get some supplies from Tubbo's old bunker." Tommy hands him a bag and Quackity nods, seemingly aghast at Tommy's immediate trust. But he doesn't question it as he follows Tommy to the bunker. It feels odd to walk here again, but Tommy knows he has to clear the bunker before Schlatt can. The books in there are sacred, who knows what a tyrannous leader (who wishes to terminate the past of his country) would do with them.

"Quackity. Go get all the supplies from the chests upstairs, grab the bed and dismantle it. Bring the horse into the tunnel." Tommy motions towards the area and Quackity nods promptly, before running off to go do as he was asked. Tommy murmurs and makes his way to where the books are kept, Tubbo had only shown him the room once, so he hoped he found the right room. He knocked down the wood under the stairs, keeping an ear open for Quackity and any other intruders.

"Here we are." He muttered, his eyes faded as he entered the room. He carelessly grabbed the books and rammed them (as neatly as he could, which wasn't very neat) in the bag. After that, he swung it over his shoulder and began to make his way out. I really should burn this place to the ground, his mind tells him. He pauses at the base of the stairs as he ponders the idea. No one would find it then, but they'd already taken everything out, so it didn't matter, right?

"Tommy, you ready to go?" Quackity questions, trying to steady the horse that wants nothing to do with him. Maybe he shouldn't commit mass arson in front of Quackity. He also shouldn't burn Tubbo's property without his written permission, in case Dream requires it. He can always have someone else burn it all down later.

"Yeah, and give me the horse." Tommy trudges up the stairs and seizes the reigns, gently rubbing the horse's head as it bumps against his shoulder. He leads the horse out to the tunnels, motioning for Quackity to stand behind him for a second while he patches up the wall using some planks. It's efficient at blocking off Tubbo's house, even though that probably won't stop Manburg. Grabbing the reins, Tommy begins to walk off, telling Quackity to follow him with a small nod. Quackity walks wordlessly on the other side of the horse, the bags weighing him down a bit. Tommy doesn't say anything, he doesn't want to, he doesn't even know what he's supposed to say.

After a bit of walking they turn a corner that Tommy had to dig out to get to the paths, he and Quackity go through first before the horse does, so they don't get kicked if something goes wrong. Tommy realizes Quackity hasn't seen this part of the tunnels yet, and he smiles a bit to himself, "Hey, can you close up that hole? We're trying to keep Schlatt from finding Pogtopia."

"Yeah! Yeah yeah, I got it." Quackity turns back, kneeling down and starting to shift some of the rocks back into place. Tommy takes the bags he's set down and ties them on either side of the horse's saddle as a makeshift holder, turning back to look at Quackity he notices the other is still donned in his Manburg attire. It makes Tommy feel uncomfortable for a moment, but he shakes it off.

Quackity finishes quicker than Tommy thought he would, and the two finish up the trip to the minute ravine where Pogtopia hid. Niki darted her head out from behind a rock and prepared an arrow at the (former?) Manburg Vice President, Tommy quickly waves her off, not wanting trouble.

"Where's Wilbur? Quackity wants to join." He asks, approaching Niki. Quackity follows like a lost puppy, shuffling his feet somewhat as he looks down.

"By the farm, I think." She keeps her crossbow loaded but doesn't fire. Tommy nods at Niki, who takes the horse's reigns before heading off into a side room she'd made for Tubbo the day after the festival. Tommy guides Quackity towards the stone door to the farm and slowly steps on the pressure plate. The door slides open with a loud thud and Wilbur glances over from where he's standing with Techno.

"Wilbur," Tommy's voice is even, "Quackity wants to join."

Wilbur nods and beckons Quackity in. Before Wilbur can say anything to Tommy, he turns, immediately leaving the area and going to the side room with Niki and Tubbo. The two had clearly been mid-conversation as Niki was laughing as she began to divvy up the supplies in the bags into their chests.

"So when are we ready to leave?" Tommy whispered, lying next to Tubbo on his bed. Tubbo smiled down at him, his bandages had just been removed to allow the burns to breathe a bit. The skin there is red, slightly yellow, rough-looking, and bubbly. It still makes Tommy sick to his stomach, but Tubbo's wide smile makes Tommy think the boy doesn't even mind the wounds.

"Actually, Tommy, we need to push this back..." Niki says softly, inspecting some of Tubbo's burns, "He's not healing fast enough to leave this week, I'm not even sure if he'll be ready by next week."

"How long do burns take to heal, Niki?" Tommy asks, keeping his voice level. He can't show Tubbo he's a bit upset that they can't leave because then Tubbo will blame himself. Even though Tommy often messes with Tubbo, he doesn't want to genuinely see him upset.

"It could take a few more weeks... but with his level of burns and how many potions he's going to need to take... we have to be careful, we can't overdose him." Niki hums, "I can make about five potions as of right now, but we can only give him one every six hours."

"You have the ingredients?" Tubbo asks, "but you've barely left my side.."

Niki giggles softly, walking over to the crafting table and opening the screen, beginning to put in some cobblestone down, "That you've seen. Techno gave me some nether wart and glistening melon last night, I fixed up his ax in exchange for the ingredients."

"What about the bottles and blaze powder?" Tommy asks, leaning on his side and watching as Niki begins to craft... something.

"Tommy, I need you to go in the nether and get some blaze powder, if you can." Niki motions to a chest, "I have your supplies and some glass bottles in there if you could please try? You can bring someone with you, I don't mind, I just need the blaze powder for Tubbo."

"The Nether is free-range right?" Tommy asks, opening one of the chests in the room and rustling through it before lifting a thick jacket Niki had fixed up for him. It's an old, beat up, navy blue jacket from L'Manburg. Niki had made it for him originally, it still fit like a glove years later. Niki nodded in response to his question as she set down a brewing stand.

"Thanks, Niki." Tommy grinned and Tubbo stirred in the blanket as he shivered. Niki looked back and smiled softly, but didn't say anything as she grabbed a log and tossed it into the fire nearby them. The ravine was always cold, it just seemed to get colder and colder as the days went on. Tommy was warm enough in his long sleeve shirt and jeans, so he gently draped the jacket across Tubbo's shoulders. Tubbo murmurs a soft thanks and curls up in it.

Niki sits on the bed and sighs, leaning back before looking over at Tommy, "Techno made mashed potatoes for dinner, unsurprisingly, I have some mutton to go with it if you want. Eat up before you leave." Niki handed the two teens bowls chock full of food and took her own. She pretended not to notice how hers had less than the others. Tommy noticed but didn't say anything.

"He always makes the same things," Tubbo grumbled, lightly taking a spoonful into his mouth. Tommy agreed.

"I probably won't eat all this, maybe you two can split what I don't eat," Tommy stated, pushing around the mush until he decided it was decent enough to actually eat. The three sat on the bed in silence, eating the limited food they'd have for the night. Niki finished her dish first, then Tommy handed her his leftovers after a short back and forth. Tommy laid back on the bed again, directly next to Tubbo to try and keep him warm. Niki sat a bit closer as a breeze ran through the cave.

A while later, there was a delicate tap on the stone of the room, three equal taps almost like a knock. Tommy and Niki both stood, out of instinct to run or fight whoever was there. Tubbo slowed his eating, but when he recognized who it was, he continued.

"Blade?" Tommy walked over to be beside Niki, who gently sat on the bed again.

"Here." He held out a big bag to Tommy, who took it and promptly set it on the floor to open it. Techno took a few steps back, resting his hand on the doorway as Tommy pulled out supplies.

"Blade..? Why did you give us this stuff?" Niki asked, looking down at food, coal, ores, some armor, and tools.

"I... I feel like it's right to help you leave. Since everything that happened at the Festival. I have emotions, I know, a rare sight." Techno looks away with a laugh, even as his lips frown. After a moment, he drags down the pig mask from his face to look Tommy properly in the eyes. It's odd to see the scars that he hides, across his nose and his eye, Tommy tries to not flinch at the sight, "be safe you three, alright? Wilbur doesn't know you're leaving yet, try and keep it that way. I'll cover for you until you're gone."

"We will be. Don't worry, and thank you so much Technoblade." Niki grins, and Techno nods goodbye and leaves silently as he slides his mask back up. The three look at each other in bewilderment but take the supplies without question. Niki gets up, taking the bag to distribute the supplies into chests again. Tubbo finishes his food and hands his empty bowl to Tommy.

"I'll go wash them out really quick, then suit up." Tommy stands and leaves the room. Walking down the ravine he finds a small waterfall he uses to wash off the remnants of the meal. He also cups a bit to drink in his hands, before filling a bowl up to bring back to the room for Tubbo, and a bowl for Niki. As he walks back, some torches near where Wilbur sleeps go out. Techno's stay on, however. Tommy doesn't bat an eye to it as he slips into the side room again. He hands the bowl to Tubbo, who quickly gulps the majority of it down. Niki drinks about half before setting hers aside. Checking a clock on the wall Tommy noticed it was around ten at night. It made sense for Wilbur to be going to sleep at this time. He turned, looking to his side at Tubbo, who was already starting to nod off.

"I'll go through the rest of the supplies and ration it out equally." Niki says softly, "have fun fighting blazes Tommy,"

"I won't." Tommy teases, kneeling down to grab his armor and slip it on. It's mostly iron armor with a diamond chestplate. It's not enchanted, as Tommy doesn't like reading all those books and such to get the knowledge to enchant. He just wants to run in and bash things, armor helps him not die immediately.

"Be careful Tommy," Tubbo says from his bed, peaking over the edge of his blanket like a toddler. His eyes are nearly closed and his voice is distant, he'd nearly asleep.

"I'll be careful, I promise." Tommy nods to him.

[lostcyberspace]

What have been your personal highlights during the past console generations, of you can remember?

I think I have a few games for damn near every console I’ve owned that were personal highlights for me.

Super Nintendo

Final Fight (My first ever actual official console video game that I ever played and owned. It’s what truly opened the flood gates when it comes to video games for me and not only will it always hold a special place in my heart for that but it’s just really fun to play.)

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Tournament Fighters/Turtles In Time (I can’t even begin to sum up how much I enjoyed these TMNT games. Tournament Fighters for me at that time was like the best fighting game ever; what the fuck is even Street Fighter II Turbo? Also, Turtles In Time was like that direct connection to the animated series and I absolutely loved that series so as a TMNT fan these games were so far up my alley.)

Wolverine: Adamantium Rage (That’s always going to be a highlight if for nothing else that lit-ass theme/beat alone)

The Pagemaster (It was the game I got along with Final Fight and while I never did beat that game I really enjoyed the hell out of it. Not to mention the movie is a fucking gem.)

PlayStation

Mega Man Legends (To me that’s always going to be one of the best Mega Man iterations right next to Battle Network. It’s also my first PSOne game. Lemme tell you the level of triggered I am at the fact that it’s on PSN for PS3 along with the sequel which I never got to play but nowhere to be found on PS4. That is an absolute crime and this Mega Man deserves a lot more respect and appreciation.)

Legend of Legaia (That game just caught my attention almost instantly when those commercials started dropping. I just needed it, I needed to play it and I got it and I played it and it felt just as good as I had hoped......but I never made it too far for 2 very specific reasons. 1. Did not have a memory card, could not find a memory card and 2. The damn disc got damaged so I never got to get past the very first chapter and I never got to meet that game’s Brock and Misty. I had such a connection for this game and I never got to truly play it and that shit’s gonna stick with me for fucking ever. Could never manage to find that game again and my PSOne got stolen but that part comes later.)

Battle Arena Toshniden (Now when I say I was addicted to that game best believe I was ADDICTED to that game. A lot of the characters and voice lines of that game is still imprinted in my brain to this day. I played that thing more than any other fighting game around at that time. The characters just looked so cool to me and I loved the whole different set of weapons they came with. I was obsessed.)

PlayStation 2

Max Payne (My first rated M game as well as my first PS2 game in general. There was a level of anxiety that came with playing this game because it felt so down to earth compared to everything else I’ve played before and it was so gritty that the danger was just exuding through the screen. It never occurred to me at the time that I was playing a game that would later be considered as something that revolutionized the genre as well as the industry but damn if it wasn’t making so many impressions on me.)

Grand Theft Auto III/Vice City/San Andreas (The most I can say is those games were just so much fun and felt so freeing to play. I never knew sandbox games could be such a thing and from that point on it was a whole new world. I appreciate that PS4 actually has the ports for them because I’m kinda feeling the urge to go back. GTA III was always my personal most favorite out of the 3.)

Def Jam Vendetta/Fight For NY (Rappers/actors and fighting games. Sounds like a combo that should be absolute trash but damn if they didn’t nail that shit. I would love for them to be on PSN because I need to go back.)

Marvel Nemesis: Rise Of The Imperfects (I absolutely loved the way this game played and I loved the set up to it. It is just sorely underrated in my eyes. It was dark but it was absolutely fun and I appreciated how every character felt to play. Also, those destructive arenas and how wide they’d span was my shit.)

XBOX 360

Basically everything Valve: Portal/Portal 2/Left 4 Dead/Left 4 Dead 2/Team Fortress 2/Half Life 2 (”Whats inside the Orange Box?”. I had absolutely no love for ANYTHING first person shooter related because I NEEDED to see my character on screen. If I couldn’t see my character there was no point BUT that all changed when I played Left 4 Dead. That game drew me in so hard and so fast and what made that even more impressive is I was never about horror games either but now they got me hooked. So I’m out here living my L4D life and then that just perfect commercial starts playing on television. “What’s inside the Orange Box?”. From style to presentation they just nailed the perfect vibe because it immediately caught my attention and then I’m finding out it’s a collection of games that were done by the people who made my one of my most favorite games so I gotta jump it. Needless to say I was not disappointed. I feel in love with everything. What I am disappointed in, however, is Valve feeling as if they’re too good to be on consoles now. I would like to go back to a lot of these worlds but you ain’t gonna catch me burning my PC for it.)

And now I think I will stop here before I end up going on forever which would be very easy for me to do on this subject. So yeah; there are quite a few highlights for me that are just about impossible to forget. I haven’t even gotten to touch on the handhelds. Okay; I’ll touch on 2 very quickly.

Pokemon Blue for GameBoy Color (My first Gameboy and Pokemon game and the circumstances at which I got it makes it a very special memory for me.)

Mega Man: Battle Network for GameBoy Advance (It took 2 of my biggest interests which was Mega Man and the internet and brought them together in what was in my opinion a flawless execution. I love the style, I loved the characters, I loved the story and I loved the music. If I were to ever play a GameBoy game on my television it would be for the Battle Network series.)

[uwunnie]

Hello, everyone.

To recap: There are new fans, and old fans as well as recently turned fans, who truly believe you have to choose Monsta X or Wonho otherwise you’re not a “real” fan. It has reached a point where toxic idiocy is spewed all over Twitter — not really that surprising, but still very annoying — and it has now reached Tumblr; the one place I felt was pretty neutral.

Initially, I wasn’t going to say anything because I felt like it’d only add to the drama. However, as time passes, I see the fandom heading into a direction that is very...well, doomed. Of course, this is merely my opinion and I don’t really expect anyone to hold it to a high regard because I am not God, nor do I believe I am a God-like figure. However, I do think I can still state my opinion upon the matter and try to shed some knowledge that may be utilized positively.

Before I begin, I’m going to try and insert a ‘Read More,’ but should I not be able to make it to a laptop in time before my patience completely disappears, I will tw it as a “long post.” If you dislike long posts and don’t have them filtered, though, and this pops up on your dash and annoys you — I apologize, kinda.

Anyways, let’s go.

—

I don’t really know what happened. Or well, I do, unfortunately.

In the beginning, Monbebes stuck together. We all came together and showed our support as a united body of like-minded individuals who shared their love and support for Monsta X — whether they were seven or individual.

Things went well. Petitions were signed. Billboards were funded. Zoo’s were created.

But at some point, Monbebes began idolizing other Monbebes — and I don’t mean looking up to sensible fans, but ones who are problematic.

Allow to me to repeat this to avoid misunderstandings: It’s okay to look up to fans who are NOT problematic. It really is — be friends with them, aspire to be more like them, I don’t care; do you so long as it’s positive.

But....but....to choose problematic fans to look up to? To choose ones who are known to fetishize a culture? To choose ones who are known, and praised, to fetishize sexualities? To choose ones who provide false hope in exchange for clout while simultaneously invading REAL people’s lives?

Yeah, that’s where everything went wrong.

The wrong people built platforms and their voices were, inevitably, elevated. Everyone began dividing and forming cliques in the name of “unity.” Everyone began losing sight of the big picture — the big picture being a positive resolution.

People stated they wanted a positive outcome, but only if it was on their terms.

Greed. Greed. Greed.

Selfishness replaced selflessness.

Various Monbebes began inserting themselves into the narrative as if it was their own personal emotions that mattered more than Monsta X’s — and that’s not to devalue anyone’s feelings, but I mean...it’s the boys who were directly affected by what happened.

Wonho was the one who had to receive backlash for past events that don’t equate his worth.

Shownu’s voice was silenced despite being a victim to sexually implicit lies and harassment.

Minhyuk sacrificed his own emotions and began keeping hardships to himself.

Kihyun was forced into voicing over his friend’s song lyrics, and is also continually made fun of despite him speaking out and asking fans to not refer to him as “small” and “tiny.”

Hyungwon received, and continues to bear, backlash because certain fans think he’s a liar and also like to criticize him for being “lazy” as if the dude doesn’t work his ass off every day.

Jooheon’s mental health issues were pushed under the rug by many people within the fandom and as soon as he returned, various fans demanded he work more — try harder, be louder and more energetic.

Changkyun’s emotions were disregarded — many fans stating he has an “attitude problem” and seems cold despite the dude literally trying to make everyone around him happy and also sticking up for Monbebes.

Monsta X, regardless of the number, were all continuously pushed past their limits; treated as machines and play-things rather than human beings.

And this is only what has been shown to us. Think about everything that’s transpired that we haven’t seen.

—

I understand that those months were hard, I really do. I was right there with everyone not getting any sleep and trying to balance school, work, projects, etc. I understand it was very emotionally upsetting and I am not devaluing anyone’s feelings because I know it was hard.

But a line has to be drawn.

There has to be a realization that it is Monsta X who has endured the worst of the entire situation. It is not fair to say that the fans had it worse when MX’s actual jobs, lives, health, and futures were all tampered with, endangered, and victimized.

And to top it off — as positive of a resolution that could be made in the situation has been met and people continue to complain.

I understand it may not be ideal — everyone wanted them to come together as seven again and I know how disheartening it is that that isn’t an option right now, but...they’re still here.

Wonho get’s to continue with his career. He can still interact and talk to us. He can do what he wants — I mean, the dude literally has a whole Instagram account to himself when it took a year or two, maybe more, just for SSE to give MX personal cell phones.

The six active members get to continue as well. They released an album that is more than likely going to be nominated for a golden disc award and they’re all, seemingly, recovering. They’ve been able to vacation and from the looks of it, the company is going a little easier on them with their schedules — in a way.

In other words: All seven of them are content.

And for the fandom, we still get to see them. We get to listen to their voices and see their faces. We get to interact with them and watch new shows, etc.

They’re still here — and honestly? It’s a miracle.

Do you know how hard it is for a people to continue considering what transpired? How unusual it is for an artist to be able to overcome legal battles that usually deem unfavorable in the position he was in?

I’ve been in the Kpop fandom for nearly 12 or 13 years now and this is the first time I’ve ever seen legal cases turn out okay for an idol.

History was made and a positive resolution was met, but yet — hardly anyone wants to celebrate.

Instead, a big chunk of the fandom now wants to dive into more drama — separate Monbebes and Wenees from each other and build more cliques.

Say stupid shit like “you’re not a real fan if you only support Monsta X” and “you’re not a real fan if you only support Wonho.”

“Wenees are superior.”

“Monbebes are superior.”

“Wenees love Wonho!”

“Monbebes love Monsta X, and Monsta X only!”

“Let’s listen to boycottbebes!”

“Let’s listen to problematic tarotbebes!”

“Let’s listen to akgaes!”

Just...shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut. Up.

—

I hate to break it to everyone who believes the quotes above, but we are all the same.

Monbebes are Wenees, and Wenees are Monbebes.

There is no competition.

There is no Monsta X without Hoseok, and there is no Hoseok without Monsta X.

—

You cannot hate the root and only love the flower just like you cannot hate the flower and be fascinated by its roots. In the same regard, a leaf cannot hate another upon the stem because to do so would be the leaf despising itself.

—

TL;DR: Stop the fan wars before you ruin damn near six years of love and (relatively abundant) peace.

[tinlizziedlinwa]

Developing Sexuality, Discovering Kinks, a Spinal Injury, and Barely Beginning to Explore the Edges of the LGBTQ+ Community

Howdy, y’all.  I’m just gonna put this out there - If it’s not for you, just keep on a’scrollin’!

Now, I’ve not really explicitly spoken about my sexuality and how it’s evolved over my almost five decades of life.  So, I’m about to start, and believe me, your patience and kindness will be appreciated.  If you choose to be a close-minded, conservative, cis-asshole then I strongly suggest you leave right the fuck now.  Thank you :-)

If you want to get to know me a little bit more and talk of incontinence and sexuality doesn’t scare you, please continue!

Decade 01:  Around four years old, I have my first memories of things related to my as yet totally undeveloped sexuality.  No history of physical abuse - Don’t worry about that.  It was finding my mother’s menstrual pads.  I saw pictures of them in underwear, so I took one and put it into mine.  It felt so right and so amazing!  I don’t really know how to describe it, but it felt like I needed the whole package of them in my underwear all at once!  I got in trouble for using up a package that my mom needed and I didn’t understand why she needed them yet.  But I made my first “diaper” out of pads and tighty-whities when I was only four years old.  Since I’m gonna be using a lot of numbers, I’m gonna cheat and sacrifice the “proper way” of spelling them out if they’re ten or less.

At 5, I knew I wasn’t built right.  I had this thing I peed through that girls didn’t have.  Boys had them.  But I wasn’t supposed to be a boy!  I didn’t like it and hated the feeling of it touching my legs (still do...).  I started asking questions about things.  Now, my parents are the stereotypical Boomers, “trapped” in a loveless marriage by dependent children and their own sense of “honor.”  Dad was a Medical Corpsman who became a Physician’s Assistant (PA) after retiring, while Mom used to be a Wave (nurse) in the Navy, but became a stay-at-home Mom when she started having children. I’ve 2 brothers and 1 sister, the last of them born 10 years before me.  So, when I questioned things, Dad’s response was usually to hand me a medical book and tell me to look it up.  Mom’s response was usually, “go ask your father.”  So, there I was, a 5-year old with a head full of partially-understood terminology (at best!) and a bunch of clinical photography in anatomy and physiology books.  At least I learned the purely physical differences between boys and girls and why I was one and not the other.  This made me mad.  So. Very. Mad.  I cried a lot for a while, finding out that I would never become what I feel I was supposed to be.  But I kept reading....

When I was 6 years old, I wrote a letter to my parents explaining how I felt about my body and how it made me feel inside and how I wished I could change and be the girl I’m supposed to be and would they be ok with helping me do this some day?

It was not received well.  Not well at all.  I’ve spent the last 40 years trying to get over their reaction to it and I still hate them for their reactions with a passion.  I feel like I was truly shattered, and the glue I’ve had to use over the years to put myself back together has never been the right type and pieces of me keep falling apart.

Entering Decade 02 (10 to 20 years old):  Puberty, damn it!  None of my “researches” had even hinted at ways to stop it, and my body started changing in ways that made me very uncomfortable, but there was also this attraction I kept feeling towards some people, and I started getting erections.  Now, I knew what was happening and yes, it did feel good to play with myself, but it also felt wrong in that I should have someone entering me, not me entering them, so when I masturbated that’s what I dreamed of - being entered and feeling them expand inside me, them giving themselves up in me, losing control and exploding into me and feeling their satisfaction as my own at having been so desirable.  Cockwarming them gently back to hardness and having my own way with their body as their hands stroked my breasts and hips.... Eventually I would orgasm in real life, while dreaming my dream.

I have never had a blow-job.  Several girlfriends have attempted, but honestly that’s like the fastest way to shut me down.  It instantly kills my dream between one heart-beat and the next, causing me to feel absolutely horrible about myself and this carcass I’m trapped in.  I should be going down on you, tasting, caressing, nuzzling and lapping up your wetness as I get more and more achy and wet for you.... Sticking my dick in your mouth is absolutely the worst thing that can happen during any attempt at sexy-times for me.  I’d rather have diarrhea on a crowded school-bus.

The problem was, I had been emotionally terrorized by my parents (and now I know how they controlled my access to information...) and the area I grew up in was populated by fairly conservative folks, so I had no exposure to other ways of living and had no idea I could express my sexuality in any way other than by being masculine with it.  Ergo, I was very much in the closet, hiding my thoughts and feelings as best I knew how, and retreated from situations that might expose my inner workings. Hence, I’m an introvert who overshares o.0  Start unstacking the bricks from my walls and Watch Out!  You might get more than you bargained for :-\

Decade 03 (20 to 30 years old):  I was just positive I didn’t want kids.  Also had no clue what to do with myself, so I landed in Alaska for about a decade.  Isolated, small town, conservative folks (a church on every corner, attended at least twice a week).  Repressive.  No sex for 8 of those 10 years.  Met my (now ex-) wife up there.  Internet actually got off the ground and we bought a computer, modem, and had an AOL account!  This was around 2002′ish or so.  Yeah, I watched the twin towers fall on a tv in a bar in Alaska.  But while in Fairbanks, I discovered the old Usenet Newsgroups... and that led me straight back into my diaper-fetish which I’d almost forgotten about... omg, seeing those first photos... I can’t describe the feelings that burned in me.

Decade 04 (30 to 40 years old):  Left Alaska and moved to western Washington State.  Worked as a Medical Assistant for about 5 years, then re-invented myself as a welder when I got a Federal job.  Learning a whole new trade wasn’t easy.  Shittons of practice later I was good at it and loving my career, until a toolbag fell on my head in 2008.  It could have killed me had I been in any other position.  As it was, it hit the top of my head while my spine was almost perfectly straight up’n’down, causing a couple of discs in my neck to blow out.  One completely ruptured and the other bulged so badly it could never heal and restricted my movement (couldn’t look up or pull my chin in).  To this day I still have a smallish “shadow” on my cervical spinal nerve where the disc exploded and a “dent” where the next one down bulged out.  The doctors think that’s why I’m incontinent and really struggle to get hard-ons anymore.

Here’s the rub:  I’ve hated this body of mine forever.  I’m not supposed to get hard-ons in the first place!  I’m supposed to have breasts, hips, hair, a flat front and a curvy bottom, and you should be making passes at me, not vice versa!

So, rather than pursue medical (surgical) options to deal with the urinary and occasional fecal incontinence, I choose to wear diapers and give myself regular enemas.  This way I can kinda (mostly) control the #2 and keep it from happening in public, while I can let my bladder just run on it’s built-in autopilot (which is really random, btw).  Wearing diapers also helps me with tucking!  I can  pull the dick out, pop the balls up inside where they belong, tuck the dick as far back as I can and put my diaper on tight.  Bingo!  A flat front!  And a bit of a poofy bottom!  YES!!

Decade 05 (40 to 47′ish years old):  I’m beginning to feel slightly more confident in my sexuality, though I’m still not comfortable actually trying to seek out anyone special... but yeah - I’m an introvert by nature.  Probably need to get adopted by someone because I’m not sure I’ll ever really be brave enough to really reach out first....  But now I’m able to afford nice diapers, I’m buying women’s jeans/pants/sweaters/onesies, and I’m feeling so much better about myself when I’m able to dress up.  Keeping my chest and legs shaved helps, too.  When I look down and see long, course, curly body-hair... ugh.  Hair in the armpits and groin is what’s normal.  Chest hair?  Get it off!  Looking at myself in the mirror, I still hate many aspects of my physical self, but when I’m freshly shaved, diapered and wearing women’s jeans and a lovely pink sweatshirt or just lounging around in a cute diaper and huge sweater, I’m much more able to ignore the things I don’t like.

Lately, as I’ve begun exploring my sexuality a little more, I’ve discovered the joys of dildos.  Lemmie tell you what, guys.  A traditional male orgasm doesn’t hold a candle to what I’ve felt while playing with a good dildo.  After a good, thorough clean-out in the shower (I have a shower-attachment with multiple nozzles and use the long black rubber one), I’ve used a dildo that’s got a bit of a bend near the tip - it’s shaped like a real penis, normal size (not humongous), with a bit of a crook near the glans.  By holding the balls & suction cup in hand, it can be inserted and moved in-n-out at that perfect angle to stimulate *all* the right spots inside...  I can honestly say I’ve peed, cum, and blew that dildo across the room as my knees hit the floor and I forgot my name during the best, most intense, can’t-walk-for-a-minute whole-body orgasms I’ve ever experienced in my life.  The area between the anus and scrotum feels so very hot and heavy, like it’s going to burst, it’s not truly painful but almost close? - It’s an amazingly satisfying feeling.  I’d love to hear from you girls out there... Are my orgasms anything similar to yours?

Some day, my dream is to meet someone who can understand me, who can feel where I’m coming from, who can love me even when I’m having difficulty loving myself.  Someone who is kind to my broken soul, and who’s idea of a hot date may involve a stop at the adult toy store!

Edited on 01OCT2021:  I’m not looking for a Mommy or a Domme.  I’m an adult with adult responsibilities and concerns.  I’m looking for a partner who’s also fairly self-sufficient.  I own my own home, work full time, and being an introvert I need lots of alone time.  Someone who’s open and accepting of the fact that I’m diapered 24/7/365 and am perfectly capable of changing myself.  And she’ll understand that I don’t just wanna get her out of her jeans for sexy-times, but I also wanna try them on.

Edited again on 02OCT2021:  As I’ve just begun actually  exploring my sexuality, I’m starting to think I seem to fit into the “enby” grouping (even as I don’t like being stuffed into a box, I find myself doing just that, to myself!  Damn categories...).  I don’t know all the lingo yet and it feels like the terminology is a living thing that is always changing.  Even though I’ve always found women to be super attractive, and I also really enjoy wearing women’s clothes and have dreamed of being a woman for decades, every once in a blue moon a guy really turns me on.  I’ve got fantasies about going down on her while he enters me, his hands on my hips pulling me in as he gently thrusts, speeding up slowly as I’m getting wetter, he’s sliding in and out of me faster and faster and I’m lapping up her juices, buried in her scent, the orgasm in all of us building until we simultaneously explode.  Then, once we all have our breath back, each of us gently diapers one another.  The idea of feeling my diaper sticking to my bum as his seed dribbles out of me is really turning me on again right now!  Hearing our crinkles as we move, cuddling in a contented pile, patting bottoms all around.

Am I a “bottom?”  Is there such a thing as an independent “bottom”?  More research is needed!  

[vipers-hat]

#9 “You’re in love with her.” for ROBB please? 👀💕 I’m so soft for them

Din had learned the hierarchy of Mos Pelgo pretty quickly. It was extremely simple, and Cobb’s story had rung true. He was the local hero, so everyone had looked up to him. He was in charge, replacing some shitty mayor from a few years back who had died in the first skirmish in the town. And what Cobb didn’t get around to, he passed down the ladder to the second one in command - Raza, the co-owner of the the bar, who had been out of town on business when Din had first arrived. She had heard the commotion about the Dragon attack, had come back that night to get caught up.

Din had picked up the little things between them first. All the eye contact, little touches while still going out of their way to not stand so close to each other. Din had figured there was Something going on there, but they hadn’t said, so he didn’t ask. 

Then came the second tip-off, the night after the Dragon attack, when people were regrouping and trying to ease their minds. Cobb had taken Din back to the bar for a drink, and once Raza had been done serving a few of the patrons, Cobb had taken her hand and motioned at Din to follow them outside to sit near a fire pit, and after a very pointed case of silent communication between the pair of them and apparently meaningful grunts and hand gestures on the Marshal’s part, Raza had admitted to Din that she was ‘technically’ a Jedi, and would be willing to help if any of her skills were required. Din wasn’t sure what ‘technically’ meant in that sense, but if they had a Jedi on their side, he wasn’t going to look a gift ronto in the mouth.

There was something strangely comforting about the fact that she was a Jedi, though.  He had known some of the stories about the Jedi - had even taken care of a bounty on one once, not that he was proud of that anymore. Still, there was a sense of camaraderie he felt with her on principle- two people in a rare order, trying to lay as low as possible while others hunted them, and they had to be careful. He appreciated meeting someone outside of his kind that could understand him. And so he had allowed himself to ease up a bit, and when she had asked about some of his old jobs or other tales that night when they were all sitting around the fire, he had partaken, naming a few. He had asked her a few in return, though still careful to not sound too interested. He had already figured out that she and Cobb weren’t idiots, they knew he was a bounty hunter and Jedi’s called for a high price, but he had no interest in that anymore. Not for her, anyhow. 

And he could say the same about any sort of interest in her outside of general politeness or friendliness - a fact that Cobb apparently hadn’t picked up on, considering he had caught the Marshal giving them a hard look across the fire a few times as they chatted away. 

And it was all but confirmed when Raza had turned in for the night. She had wished Din a good night’s rest for ‘whatever you had planned tomorrow’, and given Cobb a light pat on the shoulder before leaving. 

Din had caught that little too soft-smile and murmur of goodnight in only the way a lovesick person could, and Din decided to make himself look busy by distracting the Child, taking a stick and making a few designs in the sand. He was hardly surprised when he felt Cobb’s eyes back on him after a matter of seconds. 

“Hey. The Jedi thing’s a need to know basis. I meant what I said, you seem like a good man, I’m hoping that sticks. But you come after her for a bounty or anything after all this, you and I are going to have a problem.” 

Threatening a Mandalorian to his face. Well, maybe he had pegged Cobb wrong this time; maybe he wasn’t as smart as he gave him credit for. Still, Cobb was just protecting his people whether Raza was on a level above everybody else in the town or not, so Din had looked him in the eye, hoped that it came across as such even behind the helmet, offered up a simple, “Noted,” and that had been that. 

He had thought that would have been it- hoped so, even. The last thing he needed when he was going to go after a Krayt Dragon was dealing with drama and a possessive man who couldn’t read signals well enough. 

As it turned out, the next day Cobb was perfectly content to leave things how they had left them as Din reached the corner table in the bar. Cobb smiled, nodded a greeting, and there was no further comment. Din had considered the bar as their base of operations - as had Cobb. Which, evidently, brought about the second problem with dealing with… whatever the Hell Raza and Cobb were, because after not even ten minutes of standing in the bar minding his own business, he found himself the unwilling witness in what would have been a lover’s quarrel in quite possibly every other situation. At some point, The Child had manipulated his way into Raza’s lap, so the whole thing was even more ridiculous.

“No, Cobb, you’re taking your Marshal business out of my bar. This place has been through too much already. It’s enough that you thought it was a bright idea to potentially take on a Mandalorian inside of it without having any idea of what he was capable of!” 

“Why do you think I came to see him with the armor on?! You think I’m gonna let a guy in Mandalorian gear walk into your bar and start trouble?!” 

“My bar! Not yours! And rumor has it you were the one that was getting trigger happy, so you were going to shoot the place up at the drop of a damn hat! It’s not like you haven’t done it before!”

Cobb’s eyebrows shot up. “Wh- you helped me with that one! Hell, you picked off half of them your damn self outside the place! Besides, this time I wasn’t gonna shoot the bar up! I was testing him! There was a damn baby!” he objected, motioning haphazardly at The Child.

The Child, in turn, who had his attention drawn to the disc Raza had been levitating up and down just beyond his reach to keep him entertained, stopped short at Cobb’s words and had the audacity to make a gurgle that sounded downright skeptical. 

Cobb pointed at him. “Hey, shut it, Pipsqueak.”

Din turned towards Cobb, ready to intervene, just as Raza had scolded him, “don’t talk to him like that.” 

Cobb looked between them, then looked at the Child, but after the Child cooed at him and actually sounded insulted the man relented and ruffled what little hair the Child had on his head. “I’m sorry, Little Guy. But remember, I was looking out for you.” 

Relieved that… whatever the Hell that had been was at least temporarily over, Din slipped the Child a few more of the nuts Baer had put down at the table for them a while ago. In his experience, bribery had gone a long, long way. This time was no different. The Child unknowingly intervening had done some good, and by the sound of it, they would need a lot more strategic distractions. 

 Luckily, they didn’t need to. Din and Cobb had headed out to the desert to scout an hour later, and then they had met the Tuskens, and had returned. 

Of course, Din had nearly groaned out loud when their plan with the Tuskens had started drama again with the Not Couple. And this time it had been his fault. 

Din’s solution with working with the Tuskens had been a risk. He knew that, he expected some pushback. But to his surprise when he and Cobb ran the plan by Raza, Raza was far more open than Din had expected- which apparently had set Cobb off again. She had cited her childhood, growing up an hour of Mos Eisley, and how her father had managed to broker peace via trade and protection with the local group that kept her family out of trouble.

Cobb had gone concerningly quiet as she and Din had started brainstorming ideas on just what to wager on both sides to keep things running smoothly. He felt Cobb’s eyes on him more than once and was exhausted just from being on the receiving end of the nonsense, even if it was brief moments. He had turned and stared down Cobb pointedly that time, briefly wondering if he was going to have to put the closest thing to a friend he had made in months through a wall over a ridiculous assumption.  

The other man had just arched an eyebrow back at him before he broke the eye contact and pretended to be far more interested in his drink. 

Addressing the town with the new plan had gone… less than ideal, even with Cobb and Raza’s help. Still, it had worked, and the town had prepped for the Raider’s arrival. As they waited, Din had been informed that Raza was staying behind to keep an eye on things there ‘town still needs a leader, there are Sand People here. We need at least one competent person to hold down the fort. Raz is the better people person out of the two of us,” Cobb had explained, and it took everything in Din’s power not to immediately respond, “I’ve noticed.” 

Even their goodbyes had been loaded. Raza had gotten as close to Cobb as possible again and fussed with the armor briefly before she had pulled him into a hug. “Be careful.” 

“I will, Raz.” Cobb had practically melted right into the hug, and Din noticed it was probably that exact moment that he realized just how dire the worst case scenario was, so when he flinched and held her a little closer, Din looked away to give them as much privacy as possible. 

Once their moment was over, Raza had sidestepped over to Din. “You too, Mando. Be careful.” 

“I’ll certainly try.” 

She smiled at that, then sighed. “And bring our Marshal back to me, huh? Alive or dead?” 

Cobb’s head had shot up at that. “Wha-” 

But she had already turned to leave them, walking a little too quickly. When Din looked back to Cobb, he was watching her disappear, looking not unlike he had been shot. 

Din wasn’t quite sure what the Hell that feeling in his gut was upon coming to terms with that exchange, but he knew he wouldn’t forgive himself if he did end up bringing back a corpse. He had already disappointed one widow, he didn’t want a near hypothetical one’s heartbreak on his conscience, either. Still, it got him thinking about his own potential mortality in all this, and briefly he entertained the thought that they would be decent parents. He had looked down at the Child then, nestled in his rucksack and had scratched his ear out of habit, then. If it came to it... 

And it was that thought alone that had compelled him to shove his knife into Cobb’s jetpack and send him careening to safety. 

But he had won. He killed the Dragon. Mos Pelgo was safe, or safer, anyway. And he didn’t have to go back to town and tell Raza that the fight had cost Cobb his life. He didn’t even have to go back to town period. 

Cobb, to his credit, had been eager to complete his end of the bargain later in the day - or he was just eager to get rid of him. The pair had shaken hands, said their goodbyes- and then Cobb had hovered a moment before sighing. “Looks like you’ll miss Raz by a couple of minutes. She’ll be cross she didn’t get to say goodbye. She likes you something fierce. She’ll miss you.” 

That was… … not as horrendous or defensive as Din had expected, but it still got him to stop and huff. “She’ll live. We’re strangers.” He tried to convey once again there was nothing to pick up on, he wasn’t a threat with each syllable. 

Cobb leaned on the speeder. “I wouldn’t say that. Come on, admit it, we’re all friends now,” Cobb replied, his tone thankfully light. 

Din wasn’t quite sure how to take it. It still felt… vaguely like posturing, but the fact that he had included himself in that statement made him ease up. Maybe the point had finally landed, after all. He still wanted to make sure it came across just in case he did go back, though, so, launching caution to the wind:  “Maybe. But you love her. You’re in love with her. You should do something about it.” 

Cobb blinked at him for a moment, and Din took more comfort in that. Good, the shock from being so direct made up for the shock Cobb had put him through when he first lifted that helmet off his head. “Excuse me?” 

“You heard me.” 

Cobb paused, then ran his tongue over his teeth in that way of his. “It’s… complicated. That’s ten years of a long, long history.”  

“Uncomplicate it,” Din chided. 

Cobb scoffed again. “What is this, the Mandalorian… matchmaking service?” 

“What it is,” Din corrected, “Is me telling you that you’re hardly subtle, you’ve been picking up on things that weren’t there since day one, and I killed the last man who looked at me like that over a misunderstanding. But I needed you for this. We had a deal. Maybe the next person who comes through won’t be as willing to let things go. Maybe you should eliminate the cause of something that can get you killed.” 

Cobb opened his mouth, probably to protest like he had so many times in the last week, only to be interrupted by an approaching speeder. Din noticed that Raza was among them.

As Din expected, Raza had jogged up to them, clapped Din on the pauldron as a greeting before practically tackling Cobb into another hug that he returned whole-heartedly, with his eyes slamming shut and head tucking firmly into her neck. “You’re heading out already?” Raza asked Din after a moment, still not moving from under Cobb’s arm. 

“Long journey,” Din dismissed. 

“Come back any time. We’ll always have a place for you, too” she replied. 

“I just might,” he answered, before giving both of them a final look - taking a couple of extra moments for Cobb.

The other man waved. “Goodbye, Mando.” 

Well, it had been worth a shot. “Goodbye, Cobb. Raza.” He fired up the speeder’s engines and got ready to push off, casting one final look in the mirror - 

Just to see the pair giving each other that damned longing look of theirs before some sort of other emotion crossed Cobb’s face, he uttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘oh Hell’ before he bent to kiss her in plain view of the other Mos Pelgo residents that had shown up. 

Din shook his head and cracked a smile when there had been a couple of cheers and wolf-whistles from the gathered crowd. Evidently, he wasn’t the only one who they had driven to annoyance dancing around each other. He hit the gas then, and started on their way back towards Peli’s. 

The Child had stuck his head out of his rucksack when the town was nearly out of sight, reached up and tugged at Din’s pantleg. 

When Din glanced down at him and saw the Child looking back eagerly, he sighed.  “We’ll be back. You’ll see them again.” And then, just to take advantage of the situation, “... if you’re good.” 

The Child gasped at that and immediately shoved himself back further into the sack and pulled the flap closed behind him, making a show of not moving - and therefore not causing any trouble.  He allowed himself an honest laugh at that. 

Well, maybe those two had been good for something, after all. 

[kingofdirtandnothing]

@polyfacetious big ass Christmas Drabble Extravagaza: Day Five

There’s flour dusted all the way up to Diego’s elbows, splattered across the front of his black shirt. There’s even hints of white against Klaus’ cheekbones and the soft fanned edges of his short hair. 

Tortillas were a mess even when you knew what you were doing. When you had a guy in there with you who was enthusiastic but not the most kitchen oriented, it made things kind of a disaster. A fun, flour dusted one but still a disaster. 

“We need the right-” Feel. But Diego can feel the word sticking in the back of his throat. So he does the only other thing he can think of. He grabs Klaus by the hand and jams his hand down into the dough they were working on. 

Tortillas were deceptively simple, especially flour ones. All you needed was flour, a little salt, a little water and some kind of fat. Diego had scoured recipes on the internet while he was waiting to hear back on his loan for this place, and he must have tried a dozen of them. Vegetable oil. Butter. But none of them came close to the way his mom used to make them. With lard. 

So Diego made them with lard. The trick with the lard though, was trying to figure out just when you had the right consistency to get the dough where you needed it to be, for the tortilla press. And even if Diego could have words falling off of his tongue without any chance of stuttering, he was still pretty sure he wouldn’t have the words for this. 

But his mom, she didn’t even follow a recipe. All the cooking she did, she did with her senses. She used to tell him that all you needed to cook were your eyes and your nose and your ears. That it didn’t even matter what the ingredients were, if you knew how to listen to your nose and your heart, that you could make anything. And make it good, too. 

“Feel?” It takes effort to get that one word out, with Klaus’ long, bony fingers beneath his hand. Diego has to press his tongue against the roof of his mouth and work it out slow, the same way he was going to do with the dough. 

She used to tell him that too. That words could be just like food, if he thought about them hard enough. That sometimes, the special ones, they took care and time and work, just the way that good food did. 

Diego missed her like a fucking limb sometimes. But she was happy up in Maine, and despite the fact that he did not get it at all, she was happy as hell with her new husband. So Diego wasn’t going to cause her any trouble. Any more than he already had, at least. 

Klaus nods, and Diego can feel the thin press of his back against his own chest when he breathes outwards. It’s only then that he realizes he’s bracketed Klaus in between both of his arms, the metal mixing bowl on the table in front of him. 

Deep breath. Picture the word in your mind. Diego closes his eyes, and it’s easier to keep talking that way. 

“We don’t want it to feel like sand. Or quicksand. It needs to be tighter than that. Where you squeeze it in your hand and it leaves all the indentions against it. Like the handle of a knife.” It’s the only way he can think to picture the consistency of the dough they need. 

“It’s still too dry.” Diego can feel the dough clumping in between their almost laced fingers. He reaches past Klaus with the hand not in the mixing bowl and splashes a little water from a measuring cup into the bowl again. 

The wooden spoon is picked up left handed, not because Diego is left handed but because he don’t want to let go of where he’s got hold of Klaus’ hand. So he stirs it, slow and clumsy until the dough starts to come together. “Try again.”

This time, it’s Klaus who catches a handful of dough and gives it a squeeze. He opens his hand, palm up and in between them, a clump of white dough sitting right across his life line. (The only reason Diego knew anything about that kind of shit was because Klaus had a palmistry poster up in his shop.)

And there it was. The perfect consistency written into the edges of the dough, like parts of Klaus’ personality or his destiny or something had been imparted into the very dough himself. “Now we got to roll it into a ball.” For that to happen, Diego needed to get the hell out of Klaus’ space. But his feet weren’t going anywhere. 

Klaus looks back over his shoulder at him, and Diego could swear that he could count every fleck in those pretty green eyes. Or maybe every line on his lips. Did people read lips the way they read palms? Would he be able to count every indent, every crack in Klaus’ pretty mouth and know his history?

Diego? He hears his name distantly, like it’s coming through the depths of water or a couple of closed doors. Diego has to swallow before he turns his eyes back to the dough in Klaus’ hand. Plucking it from where it rests, Diego rolls it deftly into a ball between his flour dusted palms. This part was easy, at least. 

“Now we gotta flatten it out.” And now Diego had no more excuse to stand so close. He drops his arms and steps away from Klaus’ back, feeling the cool(er, it was still hot as hell in this tiny shop) air hit his chest in the place that Klaus just vacated. “You can do it by hand, but that shit takes too long.”

Diego points to the ancient, slightly rusted tortilla press that took of place of pride on the prep counter. It was his mom’s, sent on her insistence when he called to tell her that he got the loan for the place. 

She kept telling him that he could ask her new husband for the cash to start the place up. Apparently he was flush with it. But the last thing Diego wanted was to owe anybody money, least of all his brand new stepdad. So he sucked it up and went to the bank. And tried to tell himself that he wasn’t carrying the old man around in the back of his head like a safety net in case his shitty credit wasn’t enough to get him through. 

“We use the wax paper to keep it from sticking. It’s a pain in the ass when it sticks.” Diego points to two circles of wax paper, freshly cut from the industrial sized box of wax paper sitting on a shelf overhead. With the first circle down on the bottom of the tortilla press, the slapped the dough ball down on it, and then more carefully placed the second circle of wax paper on top. 

“You do the honors.” This was always his favorite part when he was a kid, and there’s something fucking dumb about how it makes his heart race to share this with Klaus. But Klaus wasn’t looking at him like he was dumb. Klaus was watching him with bright glass eyes and pink flushed wide across his cheeks. He was fucking beautiful. 

Klaus curls a hand against the lever, and with a sweet hesitance, he pulls the lever down, pressing the two metal plates together. Between them, the sheets of wax paper held everything together as the dough was pressed into an even, neat disc. 

“Nice. Good job.” Later, when it was all said and done, Diego would realize just how many words he got out without even thinking about stuttering. About just how fucking magic being in the kitchen with Klaus was. “Now we’re ready to cook.”

Almost. They were almost to the best part, and Diego could feel the anticipation starting to prickle at his scalp. Next to the flat top where he fried his meat and onions and peppers, there were two gas burners. This was where he blackened the chiles for his sauces, right on the flame. But for the moment, he had a big black cast iron skillet. 

Diego turns the flame down to low, watching the ring of blue cling close to the burner. “With cast iron, you gotta be patient. It takes a minute to come up to temp, but this shit runs hot. So you don’t want to rush it. Otherwise, you’re going to burn your stuff and you’ll have to start over.” It was better to do shit right the first time, then waste the time doing it over.

Another lesson from his mother, though her version was a lot more PG. She was a classy lady like that. Diego had never even heard her say a word like ‘crap’, let alone a real curse word in either language they both spoke at home.

Holding a hand out over the surface of the pan, Diego feels the heat like pressure up against his palm. Yeah, it was ready to go. He turns to Klaus, and is pleased that he doesn’t have to say anything. Klaus waits for Diego to pull his hand away and then he puts his own right near the bottom of the pan. Klaus even pulls it away with a playful hiss, blowing on his palm.

“So with a tortilla, you cook them straight on a hot, dry pan. No oil, no butter, no nothing. Bring me the wax paper.” Like a good sous chef, Klaus hurries over to the tortilla press, springing the lever open so that he can get a hand above and below the sheets of wax paper, carrying them over to Diego still trapped between his palms.

Klaus hands over the two discs of paper gently but with a flourish, like he was on the Price is Right or something, and Diego peels the top off, dropping that side down onto the pan with a sizzle. Once it’s settled, he peels the other piece of wax paper away. He drops them back on the counter to be used again. No reason to let that shit go to waste. 

“We’re looking for bubbles. That’s how we know to flip.” Sure enough, within a few seconds, Diego is able to point at where a bubble has swollen up on the surface of the tortilla. Klaus nods, hands carefully out of the way of the stove, though he was still leaning in close to get a better look at the action. Diego grabs a wooden spatula, flipping it over onto the other side. The fresh side of the tortilla hisses and sizzles when it makes contact with the hot pan. “Same on the other side. But we’re listening here. Smelling, too. You’ll know when it’s done. Watch.”

Diego waits out the tortilla, until he can smell the first singe of heat against the dough. He taps his nose, and Klaus lights up, delighted. I smell it! He’s so damn handsome that Diego thinks he might be dizzy because of it. Or maybe that was the heat of a kitchen used all day, and the leftover heat of the summer sun baked into the bricks of the building. Either one.

The tortilla is slid from the pan onto a waiting plate, a real one, actually from Diego’s apartment and not the paper shit he serves customers on. It was as fancy as he got. A pat of butter is smoothed across the freckled surface of the fluffy tortilla, leaving a golden sheen that he sprinkles with just a little salt. 

Diego hands the plate over to Klaus, his heart sitting high and fast in his chest like a hummingbird. He’s never cared so much about what somebody thought in his whole damn life. But now he needs to know.

“How is it?”

[empyreanwritings]

A Weapon No More (3)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x X-23!reader, past Wanda Maximoff x X-23!reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: canon violence, gore, minor language

Summary:  You made a promise to retire from the life of being used as a weapon after you escaped the Facility, but what’s one more mission? You wanted revenge on the doctor that created and tortured you for all those years, and S.H.I.E.L.D was giving you the opportunity to do so. Would it be worth breaking that promise?

A/N: I just want to say a quick thank you to everyone who has been so supportive of this series so far and of my other posts. I’ve been having a rough week, and being able to write for you guys has really helped me. I love you all so much! Thank you for everything. Also, a line through your user means I was unable to tag you! You may need to check your settings.

Feedback is always welcome (: x

         You stared out the window in your room, silently watching the rain droplets race down the glass. You hadn't been able to sleep all night. You tossed and turned until you finally gave up around five in the morning. The conversation with Wanda replayed through your head over and over again. She wanted to help get everyone to trust you, but you weren't sure how she'd accomplish that. They refused to see you as anything other than a Facility weapon.

           There was still a piece of you that wanted to run, but you promised Wanda you'd stick around. You couldn't break another promise. Partly because you were better than that, but partly because you couldn't handle another slap from her. You could still feel the sting of it.

           A light knock at your door brought you out of your thoughts. You glanced back and saw Bucky peaking his head through the doorway. You waved him in. It wasn't unusual for him to be up so early--you learned that quickly--but you had no idea why he was paying you a visit now.

           "Wanda asked everyone to meet for an early breakfast, you comin'?" His question sounded oddly like a statement. You had a feeling he wasn't going to give you a choice.

           You shook your head. "I don't think I should. I'm not exactly wanted there."

           "What if I want you there?"

           "You barely know me."

           Your comment made Bucky chuckle. It was true; he barely knew you, but he has managed to catch you in vulnerable moments twice now. He may not know everything about you, but he knew quite a bit already based on what he's seen. You couldn't deny that.

           "I'll share my favorite danish with you if you come," he bargained with a wide smile.

           "You're not going to go away until I agree, are you?" He shook his head, and you sighed. He was persistent, you'd give him that. "Fine! I'll go with you!"

           Bucky did a little fist pump in the air as you walked out of your room to head into the kitchen. You knew he was just trying to be nice and make you feel welcome, but you'd be lying if you said that little smile he gave you wasn't adorable as hell. He knew exactly how to get a woman to agree with him. He must have been quite the ladies' man back in his day.

           You looked back at him to see the same smile still on his face. Definitely a ladies' man.

           The kitchen was bustling with activity. Everyone was helping make breakfast in some way. Natasha was pulling juices out of the fridge and setting them on the table. Sam plated bacon, while Wanda finished up the large heaping of scrambled eggs with Vision. Steve and Rhodes sat at the table with their newspapers and mugs of coffee. You almost laughed at how elderly they looked.

           Tony was nowhere to be found, but you assumed he was still sleeping. It was far too early for him to be awake.

           The sight of everyone suddenly made your heart race. They seemed so happy, so connected. You had a feeling as soon as they spotted you, the peaceful bubble would be shattered. You didn't want that. You didn't want to feel their judgmental looks or hear their unhappy murmurs. You were one of the fiercest mutants in the world, but you sucked at handling rejection.

           You turned to run away before anyone saw you, but you bumped straight into Bucky's chest. He looked down at you, one eyebrow raised in amusement. There was no way he'd let you out of this, and if you caused a scene, everyone else would know. Damn him.

           He placed his hands on your shoulders and led you over to the table. He offered you the seat next to Steve and took the seat on your other side for himself. Steve shot you both a warm smile, but you couldn't bring yourself to return it. Your mind was too focused on the feeling of several people staring--no, glaring--at you. In that moment, you felt the Facility treated you better. They at least waited until after breakfast to torture you.

           You stayed silent and kept your eyes on the table as everyone began taking their seats. Bucky nudged your knee with his, trying to get you to look up, but he didn't push you. The mood in the room shifted drastically. He could feel the tension weigh heavily around him. He wanted to snap at them; to tell them they were being ridiculous, but he didn't want to make anything worse for you.

           "I didn't realize X-23 was invited to family breakfast," Rhodes said after a moment of silence.

           "That's not her name!" Wanda scolded.

           Your head shot up in surprise. Anyone who was moving froze in their spots. Wanda was the softer spoken one. She rarely raised her voice at others, and you had never heard her do so before. It caught everyone by surprise.

           "I'm sure you all know why I requested this breakfast. I want to talk about the obvious disdain some of you hold towards Y/N." She made sure she put extra emphasis on your name, which made you smile.

           She waited a beat to see if anyone would say anything before continuing. "I have a story I want to share. I hope by the end of it, you all see the Y/N that I know and not the one you believe her to be."

           You took a deep breath and held it for what seemed like forever. You didn't realize she was going to share your past with her so soon. You would have refused to come to breakfast with Bucky if you knew ahead of time. In fact, you would have put a large amount of distance between the compound and yourself if you knew.  

           Bucky placed a comforting hand on your knee. This was the third vulnerable moment he'd caught you in now. Every time he's managed to show you some sort of support, but this was getting ridiculous. If he caught you in any more moments, you'd have to take him out to dinner.

           "You knew X--I'm sorry--Y/N, previously?" Natasha questioned.

           Wanda nodded. "Back when I was sold to the Facility."

           Wanda's face hit the floor for the tenth time that day. Her left eye was completely swollen shut and blood pooled in her mouth. Dr. Rice had her sparring with Sabretooth, another beloved mutant of the Facility. Physically, she was no match. She had been able to keep up in the beginning, but the more he pushed, she became too exhausted to use her abilities to defend herself.

           Rice walked away from the pair a long while ago. He decided Sabre could handle choosing when to end their training. But that was the problem: he didn't want to quit. He wanted to keep pushing her until her body gave out. He was sick.

           Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, but her lungs felt like they were on fire. She held her hand up in surrender, hoping he'd finally let up. He swiped his paw towards her hand and left a large gash in her skin. He refused to accept a surrender. He'd show her that.

           His claws glinted menacingly under the harsh fluorescent lights. He stalked around her slowly, determining at what angle he wanted to deliver the final blow. Wanda whimpered. She hid her face in her hands and kept her muscles tense to prepare herself for the hit. There was nothing she could do now.

           "You're weak," he hissed. "You'll never make it with Hydra. I should just put you out of your misery."

           A feral growl sounded from behind Wanda. She looked up just in time to see you lunge at Sabretooth, plunging two of your claws into his shoulder. He howled in both pain and surprise. You came out of nowhere. You had been watching and waiting for Rice to walk away so you could make your move. You couldn't stand seeing her attacked the way she was any longer.

           Sabre hooked onto the back of your shirt and tossed you into the weight rack. You felt several bones fracture and heal simultaneously from the impact of the weights falling on you. You smirked at your opponent. If he wanted to keep fighting like this, you could do it all day, but you knew he couldn't.

           You grabbed a seventy-five-pound disc and threw it directly at his head. He ducked just in time, and the disc crashed into the mirror behind him. The sound of glass shattering made Wanda jump, but she couldn't pull her eyes away from you. You seemed so sure in everything that you were doing. You didn't seem intimidated by Sabretooth at all. And even though there was no real comparison, your claws were a lot scarier than his.

           He lunged towards you again. Every move he made was sloppy and not thought through. He fought with anger rather than logic. You'd see his movements before he made them and swiftly blocked them, which made him angrier.

           "You know what happened last time you challenged me," you taunted as you sliced at his side. "Don't you think you should give it a rest?"

           Sabre bared his teeth at you and stepped forward, which you gladly matched. During all of this, you always made sure he didn’t get near Wanda. If he moved near her, you'd shift the fight somewhere else. You refused to let him into any spot where she could get hurt.

           "Back off, X!" He snarled. "I'll kill you!"

           You smiled innocently. "Can you though?"

           He clawed at your chest. Three deep, angry gashes opened over your breasts. You felt the blood trickle down your skin, but the wounds healed almost instantly. His hit stung, but that was all it did.

           "Experiencing performance issues?" You teased. "I thought you were trying to kill me. I'm very disappointed in you."

           You stared each other down. Neither of you were willing to back down, but he was running out of stamina. He could no longer keep up with you in the same way that Wanda couldn't keep up with him. He knew if he kept fighting, you'd eventually overpower him. And he couldn't take another blow to his ego from you. With a huff, he stormed out of the training room. Most likely ready to report you to Rice.

           You waited until you knew he was gone before you retracted your claws. You wanted to be prepared for any surprise attacks. Once you were sure he was gone, you walked towards Wanda and kneeled in front of her. You cautiously reached out to touch her face, trying to observe the wounds he left her with. There wasn't much you could do about her eye besides clean it up and ice it. Everything else you could take care of, though. Some cuts probably needed stitches, but you didn't have to take her to see any of the nurses. You could handle it.

           "Anything broken?" You ripped a strip of your shirt off and wrapped it tightly around her hand to control the bleeding from there. She used her free hand to point towards her ankle. It was twisted in a way it definitely shouldn't have been. "Okay, I can set the bone and wrap your ankle to keep you from moving it too much. It might not heal the best, but Rice can't see you going to a doctor. He won't let them help you."

           Wanda gestured to the collar on your neck. "Are you going to get in trouble? What if they hurt you again?"

           "Don't worry about me. I can't handle them." You scooped her into your arms. There was no use in making her walk on that ankle. "I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure they can't hurt you anymore, okay? I need you to trust me."

           She nodded weakly and hid her face in the crook of your neck. You tensed at the sudden contact. This was the closest you had ever gotten to affection in years. Your creator, Dr. Kinney, had been the only one who had been kind to you, and Rice had her killed when she tried to stop them from doing your claw surgery. No one else had ever dared get too close to you after that. To have someone as soft as Wanda cling onto you like you weren't a killing machine made your chest tighten.

           It gave you a sense of hope that you didn't realize you were looking for.

           Wanda didn't know it yet, but you were going to do everything in your power to make sure she escaped the Facility. Even if it killed you.

           Vision wrapped his arm around Wanda's shoulders as she finished her story. Tears pooled in her eyes as she recounted being almost beaten to death. You wanted to kill Sabretooth that day. He hadn't been testing her physical capabilities the way he was supposed to; he was just asserting his dominance. You didn't hesitate to step in, and you'd do it again in a heartbeat.

           You hadn't realized until now, but you were clutching Bucky's hand throughout the whole story. You slowly let go and threw him an embarrassed but thankful smile. There was something about hearing someone else tell a story about you that was unnerving.

           "This was just one example of how Y/N defied the Facility to help me." She smiled over at you, and you gladly returned it. "She's not loyal to the Facility. She's not their weapon anymore. She wasn't even theirs when she was supposed to be, and she showed that when she protected me. She's on our side."

           There was a silence in the room that you couldn't decipher. You shifted in your seat nervously. You wanted to crawl under the table and wait until everyone left. You hated waiting to see how everyone would react to this story. Did they still hate you? Did they believe Wanda enough to trust you?

           Natasha reached across the table and held her hand out for you. You smiled shyly and shook her hand. It was obvious that she'd be considered the alpha female amongst her peers. Getting her approval meant everyone else would eventually follow her.

           "Welcome to the team. I look forward to working with you to take the Facility down one and for all."

           Sam clapped his hands together in excitement. "Well, I don't know about you guys, but I am starved! Pass the bacon, claws!"

 ---

           After breakfast, you all discussed your approach to training for the next few weeks. You wanted to train with them individually first to get an idea on what their strengths were. There were a lot of different abilities here as well as in the Facility. You had to make sure that you'd be putting people where they'd most succeed. From there, you'd all come up with a game plan together. Everyone was eager to take out the Facility, but they knew they needed to be smart about it. They needed a thorough plan and time to make sure there was no room for anything to go wrong.

           Nat volunteered to take the first training shift. It was her way of getting to know you in the best way she knew how. You agreed to meet the next morning since she still needed time to recover from the last mission. The looks on the others' faces when she said this told you they all did.

           It worked out for you. You wanted the chance to officially settle in. Maybe explore a bit.

           Once everything was cleaned up, you silently slipped out before anyone could notice and headed down to find the lab you knew was tucked away somewhere. When you were first arrested by Bucky and Steve, you had a vial of your Trigger Scent hidden in your pocket. You weren't sure who confiscated it, but someone did, and you needed to find out what they were planning to do with it.

           The Trigger Scent was a chemical developed by Rice to make you more compliant. There were people he wanted you to kill that you refused to. Innocent people. People with children. He hated when you said no, so he took that option away from you. As soon as you'd say no, he'd splash the Trigger Scent on his enemies, and you'd have no choice but to comply. You killed so many people against your will and didn't realize what you were doing until it was too late.

           The lab was empty when you found it, which you were thankful for because you had no idea where to start looking. The technology here was far more advanced than Rice's lab. It was almost overwhelming.

           "Looking for something?"

           You jumped in surprise and turned to see Tony walking through the sliding door. You bit your lip, unsure whether you should be honest. But you didn't have a good lie under your sleeve.

           "I'm looking for my Trigger Scent that Fury had taken from me when they first brought me to the compound," you admitted.

           Stark tilted his head to the side and hummed. "Trigger scent? What is it? Oranges? Peaches? The smell of the beach after the rain?"

           "I don't know what it is. It's just a chemical that triggers something in my brain that makes me want to kill everyone--doesn't matter if you're friend or foe. It's how the Facility got me to be compliant."

           Tony walked over to a screen and began typing in a code that you couldn't keep up with. He started talking a mile a minute about something, but you barely hear him. Bucky warned you ahead of time that sometimes he just talked to hear his own voice. You didn't think that was true until this moment. Eventually, you just tuned him out and started looking for the vial again.

           "Well, I think I found what I was looking for!" Tony shifted the screen, so you could see it from where you stood. "I've got to step out for a few minutes. Do me a favor and don't look at that screen over there, okay? Lots of confidential files that Fury probably doesn't want you to see."

           Your eyes must have been the size of saucers because Tony shot you a wink before stepping out. He had been talking so much that you didn't notice him hacking into the servers to find your file. Everything that you needed to know was only a few feet away from you now. You'd be able to find out where they put the Trigger Scent and what they planned on doing with it. You made a mental note to thank Tony later.

           You heart raced as you swiped through your file. You caught yourself glancing around every few minutes, making sure no one was secretly watching you. Fury had a lot of information on you that you didn't know was available. Videos of your radiation process. Footage from missions you were on with other mutants. Your whole life was on this screen, playing before you, but you still hadn't found any information on where they put your vial.

           "Come on," you whispered to yourself. "It's got to be here."

           There was a file labeled "Weapon X" and you knew right away that was what you were looking for. Your stomach twisted. You had a feeling you knew exactly what was in that file, but you searched through it anyways.

           Fury had his team of scientists replicating the Trigger Scent based on what you had in the vial, but they were also modifying it. They wanted you to be able to recognize who was an ally during your triggered rage. One stated in their reports that they were only doing this to protect their men. But you knew the truth. If they could succeed in making that happen, you'd be the perfect weapon for S.H.I.E.LD.

           And based on what you were reading, you knew what they were planning. Once the Facility was taken down, they were going to weaponize you. Fury had made it seem like you'd be able to leave and live whatever life you wanted after this mission, but he lied. He planned on keeping you here all along.

           You'd be a prisoner again, just in a fancier room.

           You clenched your jaw, feeling the anger bubble inside of you. You wondered who else knew Fury's plan. Steve? Bucky? Were they only being nice to you because they knew you'd be stuck here? You wanted to believe Bucky wouldn't lie to you, but you didn't know him. You'd be fooling yourself if you pretended to know someone only after three days. But no matter how much you told yourself that, you couldn't help but feel betrayed. You needed to talk to him.

           You needed to know the truth.

Tags:  @iheartsebastianstan @38leticia @angelus320 @holyhumorliteraturelight @sweatyfurystudent @smilee-happyness-willcome @sxvfia @anon-2837282 

Marvel Tag: @killcomet

[bbs-backlog-challenge]

BB’s Games Of 2019

2019 as a year felt like it lasted two years, and a lot happened in my personal life. Got a new job, learned to drive, got my first car, moved out of the in-laws’ basement into our first real apartment, started my first long-term game of DnD (which in itself has involved a new relationship and an emotional breakdown)- and between it all I somehow managed to play 77 games. Backlog’s down to 35 titles, lads- at this rate, I’ll be down to zero by July 2020. (Not gonna happen.) In 2020, I’d like to explore the SNES catalogue a little more, but before that happens we have to review everything 2019 brought me, in a somewhat chronological order.

- Near A Tomato Carry-over from last year’s post since I was in the middle of playing it at the time. I definitely never quite got a handle on the combat and I think some of the themes went over my head, but I still had fun here, and the 9S hacking minigame never got old. It was a gift from an old friend who I miss. Was nice to reconnect. - SSBU With my new main Zelda, I cleared all of WoL and got every spirit on the Spirit Board. I never really used her before but she’s cute now! Really liked the attention to detail in the spirit encounters. Unfortunately, Cloud is still in the game. - Mega Mans 1 2 and 3 I actually spoke about my experiences with the Mega Men in my BBLC post for Mega Man Eggs, so you should read that right now. - Metroid Samus Returns It’s Good. Like, a solid Good. Never Great, never Bad, just Good. It’s nice to see one of the least accessible games in the series get a remaster, but it feels very disposable, if that makes sense. Like they just needed a Metroid to keep people busy while they reboot Prime 4 development. AM2R is vastly superior, go play that. One point of amusement- the game tells its story without narration, and also seems to pre-suppose you know Metroid lore. I was entertained by the thought of a newcomer to the series being completely mystified by the sudden space-dragon that comes out of nowhere to wreck you at the end of the game. - Khimera: Destroy All Monster Girls You can click here to download it, ‘cos it’s free, which is almost criminal. This is one of the higher tier games I’ve played this year. A little bit Mega Man, a bit Metroid, with hints of Touhou and Undertale, it’s pretty tough at times but never to ‘precision platformer’ levels. It’s a lot of fun and the dev deserves your support. - Steve And Ollie RPG Oh, I made this one. Making something else next year? Question mark? - Prof Layton 3 Feels like these are getting weaker as they go along. The story has always been absolute boohockey, but the puzzles feel like they’re degrading in quality too. With over 200 in each game, that’s not super surprising, and I’m glad they didn’t bulk it out with a load of the awful block-slider puzzles. Still, it’s Layton, if you liked any of the other games you’ll like this cos it’s the exact same thing. - Fault Milestone Two Yo, there ain’t a damned thing I can say about Fault, so go play the first one and then play this and you’ll understand. - Full Throttle I never bothered to finish it. The obtuse old Sierra puzzlers were hard enough to deal with back in the day, and just feel kind of inexcusable now. I don’t have the patience for it. - eXceed 3rd Slick and fun bullet hell with a nigh-incomprehensible story and great music. Touhou fans will like it. Music by SSH who is relatively well known in doujin circles. - ASAMU Finished it before writing my BBLC post! - Eternal Senia Everything I said in my post rings true- do your best to look past the wonky translation, because there’s a heartfelt story underneath it. Very accessible gameplay, by design. - Inivisble Inc You have never before been, nor will you ever again be, so aware of having left a door open. I fully expected to hate Invisible, but I got hooked pretty hard. Quite tempted to do another run of it once the backlog is clear. - Pyre GOTY. Supergiant’s best game so far, and that’s not an easy thing to say for this Bastion veteran. I sobbed by the end. I’m not being dramatic- literally sobbed. Please play it. Music and writing and, just, heart, are all top tier. All the Nightwings are the best, but Hedwyn is the best best. - Ellipsis Finished it before writing my BBLC post! - Just Cause 2 I found myself getting bored very quickly. The main missions are all identical (really, they are) and the side missions are very uninspired. Blitzing around in a jet or grappling around a mission target is a lot of fun but it feels very shallow. There’s a lot to do but not really any reason to do any of it. I dunno, it’s a kind of hollow experience, that I nonetheless had fun with. - LiEat It went over my head a little, but that’s more on me I think. These horror-esque, eccentric japanese RPG Maker games usually do. But, it’s neat, and short. If this sort of thing usually sticks on you, I think this is a good title. - Shantae Pirates Curse These games always felt non-essential to me; I’m not sure why they never stuck. They never really go below or above Good. Entirely enjoyable but I don’t feel like I’d have really missed anything if I hadn’t played them. It is, however, absolutely worth investing in for the utterly superb sprite work. That doesn’t sell a game by itself, I know, but Shantae is a pixel art masterclass. - FF5 I’d more or less finished it by the time I wrote my BBLC post, so I don’t have much to add. It’s a refreshingly goofy entry in a series known for taking itself too seriously, even compared to its predecessor. Look forward to my entry for this game in my Games Of 2020 post, having played the Four Job Fiesta! - Touhou 17 It’s mid-tier in the touhou hierarchy, IMO. Didn’t set my soul alight but I did enjoy it. Playing as Wolf Marisa makes the final boss too chaotic to really enjoy, but playing through again with Reimu made it more fun. I beat Extra on my third run through, which gave me false confidence that after 10 years I might actually be good at these games- to then be quickly humbled by attempting Th11’s Extra. Final Boss’ theme song has one of the greatest lead-ins of all time, especially given you start the fight by running away from her! Also really loved the Stage 4 theme as you barrel head-first into Hell (the real one this time), and the haunting, calm-before-the-storm serenity of Stage 5, overlooking the City Of Beasts. - HackNet + Labyrinths GOTY. (Yes, I know I already said Pyre was GOTY; it’s my post, I can have two GOTYs. Make your own damned post!) It’s hard to say what I loved about these games without spoiling too much- just know that they play very much like investigation games, and figuring out the puzzles feels great. Labyrinths technically takes place during the events of Hacknet, with a somewhat more Black Hat approach to things- despite this, play all of Hacknet first, and then play Labyrinths. The expansion introduces a lot of new stuff and much trickier challenges, such that going back to the base game afterwards to finish that would leave it a little hollow- a disservice to how great the ending is. - Mega Man X I said everything I wanted to say in my BBLC post, and anything I didn’t cover was better said by Egoraptor. - Octodad Finished it before my BBLC post! - Chroma Squad The final mission is disappointingly poor, but everything up to that point was pretty good. Huge variance and creativity in the bosses. However, the most fun I got from it was when I realised the game allowed me to customise my team name, transformation name, and other such terminology. Dave, Dayve, Davy, Davina, and Dehve shouting “It’s time to Chromatise, Chroma Squad!” very quickly became “It’s time to shit, you bunch of fucks!” and it was funny every single time. (Personal favourite bit of dialogue- “I tried to shit! It worked!”) - Pyrite Heart Finished it before my BBLC post! - Starfox 2 Finished it before my BBLC post! - Burly Men At Sea Finished it before my BBLC post! - Disc Room Finished it before my BBLC post! - Kokurase Finished it before my BBLC post! Should have broken these ones up a bit! - Metroid Rogue Dawn Very, very impressive romhack let down by a distinctly un-fun final section. They managed to fix so many of OG Metroid’s problems, I’m surprised the gauntlet of terribleness that is Tourian escaped with only a cosmetic change. Nonetheless, it’s free, and the other 95% of the game is superb, even from a purely technical standpoint. - Wuppo I dunno what happened here! I was full of praise for Wuppo when I played it, but somehow I just couldn’t stick with it and just never felt like playing it. It’s a very aimless game, and I wonder if that might be why? It’s a shame, I feel disappointed in myself for not seeing it through, but ultimately I play games to have fun and I just wasn’t quite there with Wuppo. - Super Mario Odyssey I loved it, obviously. I wrote my BBLC post towards the end of my time with Odyssey so most of that stands- I do want to add that the controls always felt a little loose, like I wasn’t quite as in-control as I was in Galaxy. Also Mario prioritises walljumping over ledge-grabbing and it’s super-hard to unlearn that instinct after 20 years. Finally- Long Journey’s End is just bullshit. - Secret Of Mana Dropped it pretty soon after Finning it. There’s some logic to the way the game works, some kind of hidden turn-order system, that I could not at all figure out. My AI companions (useless, btw) would hit an enemy which meant I couldn’t, except sometimes the hit would still register but only actually go through 3 seconds later, without any way to tell which way it was going to go. It takes like 7 months for your character to get back up after taking a hit. It’s just, wonky, and I couldn’t solve the puzzle of how to make the game do what I wanted to do. - Pokemon Shield Still working my way through it. It’s- yeah, it’s pokemon. Get a similar vibe to Sun/Moon with it that it’s kind of unfinished- lots of small (and some not so small) parts of the game just feel like there were bigger plans that couldn’t be realised in time. I’m still enjoying it! They did a great job of making the gym battles, and the whole process of 8-badges-then-champion, feel like a spectacle. I think only the anime has managed it to this degree before. - Earthbound Man, I really, really want to like this game, but the battle system is terrible. I need to play through the game again buffing my party up with cheats or something, because it’s so unbalanced and cheap. Everything else about the game is wonderful, but I got so frustrated with the fights! - Mario Kart 8 Didn’t play any of the single player this time, it was midgi’s christmas present so I just joined a couple of multiplayer games. Absolutely baffled that the game features F-Zero style anti-gravity courses, has Mute City and Big Blue, and even has the Blue Falcon as a selectable vehicle, but they haven’t put Captain Falcon in it. Like he’s ever going to get another game of his own? Let him have this! - Carmageddon 2 It’s pretty clunky by now, being 20 years old, but still plays well enough. The physics are super loose so you slide around like your tires have been buttered. It was more fun when they were zombies instead of just normal people. Missions are brutally hard and should be skipped with cheats. - Neopets After 15 years of playing, I finally got a Ghostkersword. The site as a whole has gone through a lot, and certainly its heyday is long gone, but there’s no other game quite like it. I’m playing the Food Club every day, still. - SIF New phone can’t run the actual gameplay section well enough, so I just log in occasionally to grab free scouts. Here’s another one whose golden years are behind it, sadly, but I certainly still have a lot of affection for SIF. - FF1 Mobile version, which fixes a lot of the bugs with the NES original. This year I completed a solo run with 1 Red Mage, a 4-black belts run, a low-level run, and a 4 White Mages run (which ended up being a lower-level run than the low-level run). I’m fairly comfortable in calling myself an expert in FF1, now. There’s still not really any other games like it- build a party as balanced or imbalanced as you like, and see how they fare. I’d like to build my own game in a similar style, one day. - Re: Live Gacha games and RPG just don’t mix! Both gacha and events do not gel with core RPG mechanics of your character(s) developing in strength as the game goes. It seems impossible to balance the game well- do you cater to the whales who spend and spend until they have the strongest teams possible, meaning the free players or the terminally unlucky can’t stand a chance, or do you cater to those players and give them no reason to spend for the more powerful characters? It’s a shame, because the anime was baffling but in that enjoyable way where you just kind of go with whatever it throws at you, and exploring that in a non-freemium game with a solid beginning middle and end would be really interesting. - Tiny Thief Mobile game that’s not available any more, I think my BBLC post covered it well enough. - F-Zero One of the criticisms most commonly levied against F-Zero is that it wont hold your attention for long. While that’s true, it’s not like you have to make a purchasing decision about it any more- it comes bundled in with the other games you’re buying, so the only investment is time. Ignoring that, it’s still fun to burn around the tracks, and the sense of speed hasn’t ever diminished. The music, too, is underappreciated, with Port Town being my personal fave. - F-Zero GX I can’t believe Nintendo hasn’t done anything with this ridiculous universe for 15 years now. The cutscenes are so hilariously overwrought, and the cast of characters is huge! It could so seamlessly intersect with the Starfox universe, too. There were rumours of a Starfox Racing title some time ago, and I really hope that’s the case. It’d work so well (by which I mean, a particularly enjoyable kind of awful). Anyway, the game still plays great, Story Mode is WAY too hard, Dr Stewart’s theme is a Tune. - Stratosphere This game is from 1998! Build a flying fortress, deck it out with fortifications and weapons and power supplies, then use it to destroy other fortresses. I only ever played the demo as a kid, never got the full game. Took some cajoling to get it to work on modern hardware, but eventually I got in and it wasn’t worth it at all. Wow, that performance, apparently it was designed to run at a terrible frame rate and it wasn’t just a result of my 1998 PC not being up to the task! A shame, but I guess it put one of my ghosts to rest. - DKC 2 The best of the three SNES games, despite the inclusion (and protagonism) of Diddy Kong. Lots to love here, but the OST is top notch. - DKC 3 Not as good as 2, but IMO better than 1. There was a much heavier emphasis on gimmick levels in 3, not all of which hit their target, but does provide a great deal of variety. Consensus is that 2 is better, but if someone claimed 3 was the best DKC, I’d let them get away with it. - King Arthur’s World (SNES) Speaking of putting ghosts to rest… We somehow always managed to get this game whenever we got a SNES, and kid!Beebs most certainly didn’t have the patience for it. Adult!Beebs barely does, either. It’s a very ambitious attempt at some sort of RTS/Puzzle hybrid, somewhat comparable to Lemmings? King Arthur must make his way from his starting position to the throne elsewhere in the map to claim it as his own, using the myriad abilities of his soldiers to get him there in one piece. I decided this year that I was finally going to play through the whole damn thing, start to finish, for the first time ever. With copious use of save states and rewinds, I was finally able to slay this demon. For as fiddly and frustrating as it is, I would still say people should check it out if they have the tools to do so- there’s not really anything else like it, on SNES or otherwise; you’re guaranteed a unique experience, if nothing else. - Oscar (SNES) Terrible. - Spanky’s Quest (SNES) With a name like that, how could I refuse? It’s a weird little puzzler, aping (wahey!) Bubble Bobble and Parasol Stars a little. You’re a monkey who can blow bubbles that stun enemies, but if you bounce the bubble on your head it gets progressively larger and can be burst to send a barrage of similarly-sized sports balls at your opponents to knock them out. You know, just like real life. - Addam’s Family (SNES) This easily-dismissible movie tie-in is actually a very competent platformer with some very, very light metroidvania exploration involved. Gomez has to go through Addams Mansion and rescue the members of his family who have been kidnapped by… something. There’s hidden secrets everywhere and the family can be rescued in any order you like. Genuine recommendation. - Panel DePon/Tetris Attack The only vs puzzler I enjoy (yep. Not even puyo puyo. I know.) I played the HECK out of this in my teenage years, and got crazy good at it. Tendonitis says I’m not allowed to do that any more, but once I shook the rust off I was still pretty strong! It was released as Panel DePon in Japan and was fairy themed, but for the western release they replaced all the fairies with Yoshi characters and renamed it Tetris Attack despite having nothing to do with Tetris at all. Up to you which you prefer- language isn't too much of a barrier here. Soundtrack is killer. - Subsurface Circular Finished it before my BBLC post. Still not decided if I liked the way it ended. - Master Of Orion 2 C’mon. After playing three other pretenders to MoO2’s throne, I had to give the real deal a couple of spins too. It’s Civ 5 in space. Customisable race builds. A whole galaxy to bring peace to, by whichever means you prefer. Would love for someone else to get into it. - Touhou 8 Last minute entry I just played yesterday ‘cos I wanted some Touhou and I haven’t played this entry in a long while. A Solo Marisa Normal Final B run, if you’re interested. Kaguya beast-mode tearing apart the Spell Of Imperishable Night at the end of the game is still an awesome moment, but it’s a shame you can miss the last couple of spells if you take some unlucky hits. - And here’s the list of Bins, which are all covered in their BBLC post: No Time To Explain MoO Skyborn Jumpjet Rex StH 4 Ballistick Munch’s Oddysee Outland Project CARS RiME Magicka Waking Mars Urban Chaos Divinity: Dragon Commander Strike Suit Zero Hell Yeah! Lambda Wars Beta Stranger’s Wrath MoO 3 XCOM Lots more Fins than Bins this year! Good to see!

[dcarevu]

DCAU #16: The Cat and the Claw (Part 1)

“Never trifle with the affections of a woman!”

15 episodes into Batman The Animated Series and, hey, we’ve finally arrived at the first episode! Isn’t that something! Yeah, I’ve stated a few times that this show was aired in a very different order than how it was produced. Some people like one way vs the other, although I’m a production-order guy myself, but I’m not gonna pretend like this doesn’t make a decent first episode. It has a pilot quality to it, and the way the episodes sounds in particular make it seem like it would come before episodes like Heart Of Ice. But whichever way you prefer to watch the show, let’s agree on one thing: airing part 2 seven episodes later was not the best way to watch the show. For anyone that’s curious, though, this was done because the way weekend airings vs weekday airings worked. Part 1 was shown on a weekend, so part 2 was shown the weekend after.

Episode: 15 Robin: No Writers: Sean Catherine Derek (story), Laren Bright (story), Jules Dennis (teleplay), Richard Mueller (teleplay) Director: Kevin Altieri Animator: Sunrise Airdate: September 5, 1992 Grade: B

Saying that this episode has a pilot-quality to it isn’t exactly a compliment, as in some ways it feels like we’ve again taken a few steps back here. This episode sits right at home with On Leather Wings, Nothing to Fear, and even The Underdwellers. It’s not bad, but the footing just isn’t there, and the vibes are very similar to those three. Looking at the credits only backs up this observation. Some of the lower-tier episodes we’ve seen have come from these writers. I think that so far this is one of the better ones they’ve worked on, but it didn’t blow me away or anything. Sunrise handled the animation, and it worked for the most part in Pretty Poison. Here, though, there were some weird things. There is a shot of Catwoman climbing up a building that looks pretty damn awful. It’s quick, and most may not notice it, but I didn’t have much choice in the matter because someone working for Warner (probably an intern or something) chose this shot for the DVD menu on disc 3. What the hell? You turn on the DVD and you get this awkward, misshaped Catwoman that gets worse the longer you stare. Like god, it’s ugly, guys. And Catwoman is an attractive character! I can only imagine that they were pressed for time or something. I’m mostly just bringing this shot up because I find it funny, but there were some other things too that stuck out like sore thumbs. This included some weird facial expressions (like the goon at the end or the dude constantly gritting his teeth like an old Looney Tunes antagonist), some overall messier work, and the lighting was all over the place. A lot of shots just seemed a little bit too bright for the show. It’s not all unsightly, though. Sunrise have a weird, weird style, guys. There are some scenes that I think I like the looks of, much like some moments in Pretty Poison, but really nothing I was blown away by. I hear Akom did part 2, so I am actually genuinely excited to compare them. I’ve been okay with Akom so far.

So this sounds like a recipe for disaster so far, I know. But the episode is generally enjoyable, despite. I have no idea how they pulled it off either. Where the visuals fail, the magnificent, ballet-esque score picks up the slack. While the lines don’t always stick with me, they don’t downright flop, and the characters are great. Catwoman really impressed Char (who, once again, is a newcomer to the DCAU), and like some other rogues, I don’t know if she was necessarily expecting much beyond a typical villainess dressed in a distinguishable suit. In fact, I wouldn’t necessarily label Catwoman the villain at all. Yeah, she shows that she has a robbing hobby at the beginning, and I’m not gonna defend that, but she spends the rest of the time attempting to get her way with the animal preserve and genuinely showing that in some ways she’s pointed in the right direction. I’ll talk more about her character, along with Batman’s, in a bit, however. But before diving into some of the more social/psychological aspects, I wanted to note how fun the beginning of this one was too. It was a unique start for the series, and watching these two run around on the night rooftops is fascinating to watch. I was almost sad when it ended. Especially since a lot of the other action in this one was a lot more par for the course. When we cut to a police chase going on, I internally groaned just a little bit. I feel like that is one of the most common things to happen on this show, and there was no real twist on it. Things are calm and casual, then out of nowhere some guys with machine guns are being tailed by the police. Maybe I’m imagining things, but I think it’s getting a little bit stale. Oh, also, just as an observation, I felt like everyone was whispering throughout this one. Catwoman, Batman, and Red Claw all said their lines in such a soft manner, and while inside some of the buildings made sense, I’m surprised they didn’t have a tough time hearing each other on the rooftops at times. That’s what I mean when I say this one sounds like an early one. Anyone else feel me on this? Like, did the actors have to be quiet because another show was being voiced or something? That’s a joke, by the way.

A big plus was getting to dive into our main characters. Batman and Selena’s chemistry is fairly natural, despite them not sharing too-too many lines with each other, at least in costume. Yet it just works. Batman is a man of few words sometimes. I don’t think his ways of communication and relation necessarily rely on English. You get a sense of chemistry from watching them soar among the turbines, free fall toward the street, and basically try to keep ahead of each other in an almost playful way. We even see Batman crack a smile as he talks to his new, curious friend, and it’s not even weird to see. Add in that downright beautiful score, along with them mixing as their civilian selves, unbeknownst to them, and it starts to become a shame that you know that in their current ways, they’re not gonna work. It’s as both of them worked together to say; there is something in between them, that thing being the law. Parts of me reluctantly want Batman to just give in, but admittedly, that would be rather hypocritical of him. Ha. Yeah. Imagine how that relationship would go. “Hey, honey, have fun hitting the Smiths’ house tonight! I’m off to stop a robbery!” Would make for a decent parody, though, for sure.

Even without Batman, though, Catwoman is an interesting character. I love how strong and dedicated she is. She knows what she wants, and she’s not gonna back down until she obtains it. She goes a little too far with taking things into her own hands because, well, she’s literally taking things that don’t belong to her into her own hands, but you get the feeling that she works her ass off with her conservation efforts and doesn’t take shit. This is another factor that makes her relationship with Bruce so interesting. She first flat out tells him that she’s not interested in dating him. He politely asks her if they can just try it out once, she agrees, but she actually ends up cancelling to do something that she sees as more important. She’s not about to feel bad about it either, and why should she? You get the feeling that in some ways she is equal to Bruce, and if she were a lot weaker than him, then their midnight meet ups wouldn’t be nearly as interesting. By the way, a cartoon show displaying a strong, independent woman acting like a hero, but also performing cat burglary? Some parts of me are surprised that at the time this was let through. She is clearly someone to admire in some aspects, but not necessarily in others, which is kind of a complex, abstract idea for kids.

Of course, you wanna talk about strong women, we can’t leave out Red Claw, the terrorist leader. Now this lady, she is not someone I’d ever wanna mess with. She looks like she could pound me into a pancake with one whack. Char was not a fan of her design at all. When she walked into the screen, I heard her go, “That design is shit.” It didn’t strike me nearly that hard, and while I don’t find her to be awesome-looking, her design never really bothered me. Char mentioned it being the way she was proportioned. I did think that she looked a little bit…hm…maybe hefty is the word? But I sorta dig that choice. It adds to her intimidation-factor. She looks like she’d be a challenge for even Batman to square up with (even though this is likely not the case if we’re talking strictly hand-to-hand combat). But maybe the strong reaction to her design was simply Char finding the model off-putting, and maybe Akom can amend this next time. We shall see! I’m also hoping that she’s not wasted potential. I get that most of the emotional depth should be focused on Batman and Selena, that’s obvious. But I at least want to avoid Red Claw being obvious stock. We have a whole extra near-half hour to use, so let’s hope the writers learned from their light mistakes in previous episodes and deliver a thrilling conclusion. Char really loved this episode (she liked it a lot more than I did), and was very interested at what was going on basically the whole way through, plus I think Catwoman is going to be a new favorite of hers. Don’t want it to let her down! Even if this one is an episode that I don’t consider amazing, it brings me a lot of joy to see it getting so much mileage with someone else. This is part of the reason I’m doing these blogs, people, and I hope that many more of you in the future will end up following along and coming to your own opinions that you can compare and contrast with mine. It’s no fun if everyone feels the same way and makes the same observations, right?

Oh, we both agreed that this one had one of the best title cards so far, by the way. And after the episode is finished, you go from thinking it’s a Catwoman reference, to realizing that it almost seems to be referring more toward Red Claw with that scratch mark!

Char’s grade: A

Next time: The Cat and the Claw (Part 2) Full episode list here!

[pastel-flapflap-blog]

The Holy Grail, ch5

Thea was quietly fuming upstairs as she made sure everything was packed in her go-bag. It was a small, army green backpack that she always kept on her person should she lose access to her vehicle for whatever reason while out scavenging. It contained all the pertinent items she’d need in a pinch: a spare knife, ammo, water bottle, a couple of stale granola bars. There was also a lock-picking kit that she had no idea how to use, but she had found it while on a food run and figured it wouldn’t hurt to carry around. Maybe she could poke someone’s eye out with it if she needed to.

Mads was lazing on the bed in front of her near the headboard. <Maybe we were a little hasty by letting him into the house,> she said. As if she wasn’t the one practically showing her belly to the man downstairs.

“Do you really want to start on that?” Thea asked, the words almost coming out as a growl as they made their way through her clenched teeth.

<I’m just saying, we wouldn’t have to leave the house if we hadn’t. I don’t want to go outside again.> She put her large head on her front paws. <All kinds of shit can go wrong out there.>

“We’ve been over this,” Thea said. “And the tune you were singing was a hell of a lot different half an hour ago.”

Before Mads could retort with more than an unhappy groan, they heard a knock on the door. Thea stiffened, pausing for only a moment before fastening her bag closed and slinging it on her back. When she turned to the door, Negan was standing in the hallway and looking at her like she was crazier than a soup sandwich.

“Making sure you weren’t hightailing it outta here,” he said carefully. When Thea didn’t speak and only met his scrutinizing eyes with her own smoldering glare, he continued. “Your elevator not go all the way to the penthouse?”

Slightly offended, Thea opened her mouth to respond; she thought twice and began to walk past him. Mads was hot on her heels, snickering. “We can leave as soon as it gets dark out. I don’t want anyone who might be lurking behind to see I’ve got a bag of dicks next to me in the car.”

“Ouch,” he followed behind her and had a smile on his lips. “She’s fuckin’ feisty, too. I bet you’re damn good in bed, sweetheart. The crazy ones always are.”

At that, Thea whirled on him and poked her finger in the center of his chest. She pushed hard, but he showed no signs of pain; he just looked a little more than irritated with his slight frown and downcast brows. “Listen here, fuckboy. I’m not in the mood to made fun of. I’m about to leave my perfectly safe home to go on some escort mission for some fucker I don’t even like. So, save the witty banter and let’s just go.”

At that moment, Negan’s gaze was venomous. His eyes were dark slits and she noticed his empty hand begin to clench again.

“If you’re going to hit me,” she said, making a motion toward his fist with her eyes, “I suggest you aim for the one hit K.O.; Mads can rip your throat out with the snap of my fingers.” Her own look was dangerous, the fire in her belly creeping up into them and making them glitter.

Mads took a step forward, sensing the tension, and let out a low growl. <I don’t want to, Thea,> she said to her friend. All the same, her hackles raised slightly, and her ears pointed forward toward Negan.

Negan reluctantly relaxed his hand. “You’re not going to get hit, missy, but you’re well on your way to pissing me the fuck off. I’m planning on giving you a fuckin’ smorgasbord of goodies when you deliver yours truly home, and you’re acting like I’m asking you to fuckin’ risk yourself for free.”

Thea remained silent and continued to glare at him.

“Hell, you can even stay if you find that you like what you see,” Negan said, a barely-there smirk beginning to show.

“I don’t think I will,” Thea said, removing her finger from his chest.  

“Don’t knock it ‘til you see it,” he said, giving her a full smile now. He really was giving her whiplash with these mood swings. It was giving her a headache.

“Let’s just go,” she said, sighing. “Mads, c’mon.” When she turned to go downstairs, the wolf-dog and Negan trailed behind her silently.

  Shortly after sunset, Thea directed Negan through her kitchen and into the attached garage. It was nearly pitch-black, and she had to use a flashlight to see where she was going. She opened the back door for Mads. “Load up,” she said. She didn’t have to say the command, but it was a habit; Mads jumped immediately into the car as soon as the door was pulled opened.

<Alright! Let’s go kick some undead butt!>

Thea rolled her eyes and smiled at the wolf-dog. She may be a sassy Susan, but she really was just a dog when it came to car rides. Once they hit the pavement, she’d have to lower the window so she could stick her head out of it and enjoy the wind on her face.

“Go ahead and get in,” Thea said to the man standing behind her. They hadn’t really spoken in the time between their altercation upstairs and now. He had talked a little to a very appreciative Mads as he rubbed her exposed belly. It was disgusting.

Negan sauntered over to the passenger side and slid in as Thea walked to the garage door. She bent to lift it and pushed it over her head, wincing at the loud screeching noise it made. One of these days, she’d remember to look for some WD-40. Until then, she’d just go a little deafer every time she left with the car. And maybe attract some of the walking dead.

She hurried to the car, antsy that she couldn’t see anything in the dark past a few feet in front of her. She did the habitual check of the mirrors before she put her foot on the break and hit the start button. Negan let out a low whistle. “Fuckin’ fancy.”

Thea couldn’t help it; the dead be damned. She revved the engine and the catbacks roared and popped. She fought to hide a smile when Negan let out a “Hot damn!” This car was her baby—a pretty blue Subaru WRX. A few months ago, she’d managed to swipe town from an old garage close to the outskirts of the town closest to her and had been pleased as punch to hear that it sounded as sexy as it looked. The four-wheel drive was nice to have when the roads had fallen to such disrepair, too.

“Okay, get your ass down so no one sees you.”

Negan couldn’t help but give her a lascivious look as he lowered the seat down and leaned back. She didn’t dignify it with a worded response and only rolled her eyes. Once she was backed out of the garage, she hopped out and shut it. Then, they were off.

“Give it a minute and you can come back up for air,” she said, not looking at him. She lowered her back window for Mads. As predicted, the wolf-dog immediately shoved her head out of the window. Her grey and black fur flew wildly around, and her tongue lolled out of her mouth happily.

<Thank you!>

Thea smiled when she looked at her through the side mirror. When they were a few miles out of the cul-de-sac, she motioned for Negan to lift his seat back up. “So, where to?”

  Negan had told her to plan to be on the road for a while, so she grabbed the large CD case that she kept behind the passenger seat. She flipped to the middle of the case and grabbed a random disc; without looking what it was, she popped it into the car’s CD player.

“We’re not gonna listen to some shitty chick music, are we?”

“Who knows,” she said nonchalantly. She really had no idea what CD she had picked, but she knew for sure that all the CDs in the case were decent. She’d spent a little too long in the local music shop picking out stuff to fill up the case with and none of them were “shitty chick music.”

He barked out a laugh. “It’s going to be a fucking long as hell road trip if I have to listen to fucking Alanis Morrisette.”

“I think you even knowing her name incriminates you of actually liking chick music.”

<He’s probably the type to listen to that old as dirt country music,> Mads said. She’d removed her head from the window a while ago and had laid down across the back seat. Her eyes met Thea’s in the rear-view mirror and Thea only smiled, careful not to say anything to her four-legged companion.

I made my slow way home Limping on broken bones Out of the thickest pine Across the county lines On to your wooden stairs I know you can repair I know you've seen the light I know you'll get me right

Right Right Right

I own a sinner's heart I know the rain falls hard I know the currency I know the things you'll need I hope he hears my prayers I see you cut your hair I know the saving type I know you'll get me right

 They rode in silence as the song played, Thea drumming her fingers on the wheel and concentrating on the road in front of her. She thought of the band she’d played with a few times before the end of the world and felt a heaviness in her chest. She really did miss playing for an audience; missed being around that energy. Now that everything around her was dead or dying, that feeling of exhilaration on stage that had made her feel so alive seemed so far away now. She doubted she’d ever get to feel that way again.

“Better than chick music,” Negan said, breaking the silence.

Thea snorted. She turned to speak to him and noticed his fist on his thigh, which was again clenched. She frowned. “Why do you always do that?” She really was starting to worry about getting put six feet under as soon as she delivered him home.

Negan met her eyes, a questioning look in his own. She pointed at his fist, which made him look down. He must have not realized that he had been squeezing his hand because he immediately stopped and flattened it out against his leg. He was silent for a moment and Thea didn’t think he would respond to her at all; she shrugged and looked forward again, ready for more awkward silence, when he spoke.

“Those assholes took my girl from me when they attacked me and my men,” he explained. “She was fucking special.”

“They kidnapped someone?” Thea felt the beginnings of hot anger take the place of the lonely feeling in her chest.

<Or maybe he means that they killed her?> Thea swallowed hard. If those people were killers, she had been incredibly lucky that they didn’t find out she was hiding the man they were looking for in her upstairs closet.

Negan gave a grim smile. “My girl,” he said, “was a beautiful, bloodthirsty lady.” Thea suddenly regretted conversing with Negan, not for the first time. “She completed me.”

Thea turned her eyes back toward the road, feeling very uncomfortable. “Well, whatever floats yer boat…” Negan was silent, and she noticed his fist clench once more. She couldn’t help but feel the need to help him again—that same protectiveness that got her stuck in this shitty situation to begin with was beginning to work itself up into a tizzy and no matter how much she tried to shove it back down to the hole it came from, it threatened to take her over completely. She couldn’t help her self when she continued the conversation. “What’s her name?”

“Lucille,” he answered immediately, the word taking its time coming from his lips as if he were savoring it. “Turn right up here.” He pointed to a road sign a few yards in front of them.

As she continued to drive, she found herself at a loss for words.

<If I die,> Mads said, letting out a soft groan, <I’m haunting you for the rest of your life. I will open all your cabinets and stack all your chairs when you aren’t looking. For eternity.>

Thea squeezed the steering wheel with both hands and she swallowed thickly. Why did she always get herself into these situations? Why did she feel the need to insert herself in other peoples’ problems?

<He’d better have some sweet treasure for us to pay us back.>

Thea agreed silently. No matter how much she wanted to help, this ride was it. As soon as they got whatever payment Negan was going to give them, they were speeding away into the sunset back home.

The ride was close to silent once more, only the purr of the catbacks and music sounding out in the otherwise quiet night.

Mads suddenly sat up on her haunches, looking at Thea through the rear-view. <Do you think he’ll have Milk-bones?>

[bamfcoyotetango]

Number 7, Chaleigh please. 😁

Oh gosh, this is so very late but the Muses ate the prompt and gave me this .

7. Fake Relationship AU

Hand In My Hand

Raleigh's in the middle of setting up the music for the piano when Hansen, their bartender for the night, cleared his throat behind Raleigh.

"You need help cutting the citrus?" He asked sympathetically.

All the bartenders hate citrus and Raleigh's pretty good with a knife.

The only problem was that Hansen didn't ask for help.

Like... Ever.

"Yeah, actually. I, err, I've been meanin' t' talk with you." Hansen relented, his broad shoulders slumping in a show of emotion Raleigh didn't expect.

"Oh?" Raleigh arranged the music and left the wide performance platform, careful to step over the wires the sound crew hid under the rich red carpet. "Any reason in particular?"

The other man handed over a knife, a cutting board and a bag of mixed citrus. "Look, I know I'm not... the most social."

Raleigh snorted at that, "No shit."

"Oi, fuck off yeah? I'm trying here." Hansen growled defensively before he sighed. "I've got a problem."

"... And you think I can fix it?" He countered dryly as he sliced the fruits into multi-colored discs. "I  know I'm the bar's handyman and all but uh, I normally don't fix people as a rule."

"Yes." The blunt honesty has Raleigh setting down his knife and turning to face Hansen. "Look, you're pretty enough that my Dad might be fooled inta thinkin' we're datin', alright? He knows I don't swing too often the other way and Mako's like my sister so I can't ask her an' the rest of the bartenders-"

Raleigh held up a hand and mulled it over, parsing out the basics of it in under two minutes. It wasn't exactly a secret that Raleigh appreciated multiple types of people. Hansen might've been a surly jerk but damn if he didn't fill out his bar polo shirt nicely. "You want me to date you... because your Dad is a hard ass?"

"Look, he's coming to visit in a few months an' he keeps a hairy eyeball on my social media, yeah? He knows when I'm not datin' and he gets all sad an' mopey like he didn't do a job 'n a half raising me. My old man wants to see me happy. So... are you in or what?" Hansen grumbled even as he rubbed at his nose.

Raleigh thought of his Maman, in remission, being overjoyed that her middle child finally found someone.

"I'll make you a deal," He allowed carefully, "if this is for your Dad, then it's also gotta be for my Maman. She's in remission and now she's tryin' to meddle in my love-life. You break her heart and I'll break your face. I'll pretend to date your ass for her sake if nothing else."

"What about...?"

Raleigh gritted his teeth and sucked in a calming breath. "Let's just say he's a bastard."

"... Oh. I guess we need to outline what's not okay to touch as a topic." Hansen pointed out.

"Yeah, might be a good idea." He admitted.

"For starters, don't ask about Mum and I won't ask about the rat bastard."

"Got it."

"By the way... M' name's Chuck." Chuck held out his hand and Raleigh shook it.

"Raleigh."

Chuck, for all of his asshole tendencies, was pretty decent with the whole dating thing.

Once Raleigh got past the scowl and the snark and the Alaskan-sized chip on his shoulder, that is.

He'd even bothered to ask Raleigh for his favorite flower (sunflowers) and had presented them with a scowl at the start of their next 'date'.

Somewhere along the way, dating Chuck had become less obligation and started to feel like... something Raleigh shouldn't enjoy as much as he did.

He shouldn't enjoy the under-the-breath quips that were so sarcastic that Raleigh actually cracked up laughing when he caught them.

He shouldn't sneak glances when Chuck closed his eyes and reveled in the wind coming off of the sea.

He shouldn't save a sunflower from each bouquet Chuck "remembered" to bring.

Raleigh spun a thick stem between his fingers and quietly admitted to himself that if he fell in love with Chuck, it might not be so bad.

It wasn't like the ginger bastard would ever return his feelings after all.

Raleigh was one of, it turned out, a lucky three people who had Chuck's phone number.

""So, Chuck hasn't called in and I have it on good authority that you're dating. I got the Kaidonovskies to cover his shift but could you do us all a huge favor and go check on him?"" Sergio asked. ""He's never done this before so I'm a little worried.""

"I'm on it, Serg. I'll let you know what's up, okay?" Raleigh hummed and then scrubbed a hand down his face as he texted Chuck.

  Raleigh: Where r u?

It took near five minutes for Chuck to respond, which was way longer than his usual five seconds.

  Chuck: m sick

  Chuck: don't come over

  Chuck: if I die u get my dog

He snorted, texting as he grabbed his jacket, his scarf and his washable surgical mask Mako had given him for his birthday.

  Raleigh: drama llama

Raleigh: Ur not gonna die

  Raleigh: I'm coming over

Chuck appeared to rouse at that.

  Chuck: NO

If Chuck thought he could out-stubborn Raleigh, he had another thing coming.

  Raleigh: YES

  Raleigh: I'm making you homemade soup

Raleigh: u giant wiener

Chuck didn't respond for several moments as if shocked that Raleigh would do something that nice.

Chuck: U need my address

  Chuck: Or did u expect to kno

  Chuck: where I live, u wanker

He did laugh at that, midway through testing a tomato with his fingers.

  Raleigh: I could ask Mako

  Raleigh: She'll provide the info

  Raleigh: with half the hassle that

  Raleigh: Ur giving me

  Raleigh: btw

  Raleigh: R u allergic to tomato?

His phone buzzed with the response as Raleigh finished grocery shopping.

  Chuck: no, not allergic to tomato

  Chuck: pick up some tissue

As though he sensed he was being a little rude, he followed it with another text.

  Chuck: ... pls?

Raleigh shook his head, flicked on his voice-to-text app and said, "Already on it period. Send."

Chuck sent the address and Raleigh pulled over into a gas station to input the address. He paused, contemplated labeling it 'U Grumpy Bastard' and then grinned at it occurred to him.

Chuck's address ended up as 'My Dumbass

An English bulldog sat in his way, Raleigh's arms aching as the grocery bags creaked.

"Uh, hi, pup. Could you do me a favor—"

"Max, get." Chuck rasped, poking his dog with his socked foot to let Raleigh into his apartment.

He toed off his boots out of habit and nudged them into a vaguely neat pile near the door.

Raleigh set all the bags down, found the trash can and the fridge and got to work.

By the time the tomato soup was bubbling on the stove, Chuck had been served eucalyptus tea, meds and tissues, in that order.

Raleigh absently texted Sergio as he watched his soup, keeping half an eye on a bemused and snuffling Chuck. He reigned in the urge to kiss the frown off of Chuck's face.

Chuck frowned and then wrote on the whiteboard Raleigh had brought from home.

'What? Do I have something in my face?'

"Nah. Just an old habit from when my sister was sick. She'd sneak off the couch and then get me sick cause she likes to cuddle when she's loopy on meds." He deflected as he poked at the soup.

The squeak of the marker was proceeded by Chuck gathering his blanket nest and sitting on the tall chair next to the counter.

'U have siblings?'

"Mm, two. Yancy's the oldest and Jazzy's the youngest. I'm the middle kiddo."

'Why tomato soup?'

"I'll have you know that Maman and my Mémé would skin me alive if I fed you anything else aside from this. It's supposed to be loaded with nutrients and good protein to help you get better." He countered with a raised brow.

'Meme??'

"French for Grandma. Maman is Mom." Raleigh explained. He pulled out the bacon, frowned and asked, "Where's your frying pan?"

'Under the stove.'

"... You don't cook, clearly, cause otherwise you'd know that that's the broiler, not a drawer. Also, these are really nice pans and it's a shame they don't get used more often." He talked mostly to himself but Chuck blew a raspberry from behind the covers. "It's true."

'Don't b rude. It's my space u know.'

"Supposed to be our space, remember? Shit, should I move in?" Raleigh asked and Chuck shook his head hard enough to negate that.

'NO.'

Chuck wrote quickly and then thrust it out as Raleigh patted the bacon to get the excess grease off.

'I'm already regretting asking u, alright? The last thing I need is to see u in ur undies. I bet u wear whities.'

"Hey! I wear boxer briefs, you jerk. Tightey-whities are soooo last season. Also, Jazz would murder me for that fashion crime. She's majoring in it and if I'm related to her, I'm gonna not cause her pain by dressing, and I quote, 'like a fisherman with no sense'. She's already tried to kill my sweaters, okay?" Raleigh grumbled as he dumped most of the bacon into the soup.

'Wait. Seriously?'

"Yeah, seriously."

'Ur jumpers r how I know it's u. No one else at the bar wears them like u do.' If Raleigh tilted it right, it might've been a compliment but Chuck didn't do those.

"Uhhhh, thanks, I think. Now, eat your soup and rest some more, alright?" Raleigh served up a decent bowl that would go down well with Chuck and reserved the rest of the soup in the pot, closing it with a lid. "Don't even think about ruining my soup by sticking it in the microwave. Heat it up on the stove on low." He looked at Max. "Do I need to take Max for a poop?"

'Probably. His lead's in the hall.'

Raleigh grabbed the red leash and Max was suddenly at his feet, butt wagging furiously.

He barely had room to tug on his boots.

"I'll be back! Finish that soup, Chuck!" The door closed with a clunk behind him. He laughed when Max tugged him down the street, barely giving him time to shrug on his jacket and wrap his scarf up the right way.

"Is that Max I hear?" Max boofed and somehow his butt wiggled even harder. "It is~" An older woman was sitting on the porch, her hands cradling a warm drink with a blanket in her lap. "Oh! You're not Chuck!"

"Ahh, no. He's sick," Raleigh mentioned with a shrug, his muscles straining as Max tugged on the leash in this woman's direction. "Max, pas maintenant*." He chided.

"You must be that friend of his."

"... Umm," Raleigh's face heated up as he thought about Chuck, who was probably miserably eating his soup and scrubbed at the back of his neck.

"Oh, I see. How long?" Her confidential tone made Raleigh want to combust from embarassment.

"Coupla months," he choked out, "Gotta go, ma'am, Max is, umm..."

"Go on. Chuck's got himself a keeper! You tell him Mrs. Gage said so, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am." Raleigh agreed as Max tugged on the leash again.

"Chuck, I swear to God that you've got the nosiest neighbors—" Raleigh froze at the sight of a man who could only be Chuck's Dad.

He let Max off the leash on autopilot after he closed the door, hanging it up like he'd seen it earlier. Raleigh kicked off his boots again and set them against the foyer frame, this time a great deal neater than they'd been before.

"You must be Raleigh," the man said as though he hadn't thrown their whole plan out of wack. "I'm Herc."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir." He let his manners take over, a smile on his face as he shook the offered hand. "Can I get you anything? Tea, coffee?"

'Dad doesn't do tea.' When the whiteboard popped up from the couch, it seemed Chuck had retreated back with his blanket nest.

"Mm, coffee then?" Raleigh hummed as Herc looked between them. "Milk? Creamer?"

"Creamer, if you don't mind."

He busied himself preparing two cups of coffee and then dug into the supplies he'd organized on the counter, muttering to himself in Korean as he read the instructions for the citron tea he'd brought over.

"Coffee 'n creamer for us, tea for Chuck. Don't make that face. It's gonna feel nice and it's yuzu, vaguely lemony with honey." He sat next to Chuck, reaching to adjust the blankets and handing over the tea.

'Ur gonna get sick.'

"Mmm, yeah, probably. Do I look like I mind?" Raleigh pointed out as he gently pecked Chuck on the lips. Chuck grumbled wordlessly but snuggled closer as he drank his tea. He made a noise of surprise at the taste and looked at Raleigh with a wordless question. "So-Yi suggested it when I dropped by the bar. Y'know, half of them thought you got in a fight or dropped off the face of the planet. Being sick never even occurred to them."

'Liar.'

"No, that's what you get when literally three people have your number, you dumbass." He bickered back, looking up when a muffled laugh brought him back to their current situation.

Right.

Chuck's Dad.

"Y'know, I almost didn't believe my son when he said he was dating someone. He works hard and doesn't remember to leave time for himself but I can see he's in good hands with you." The pride Herc had for his son was clear in nearly every word he spoke.

"Yeah, well I could've said the same a while back. Chuck's sweet under like, fifteen layers of asshole, but you gotta have enough patience for the layers." Raleigh ribbed Chuck gently, letting himself touch instead of shying away from Chuck. They had to make this convincing—At least that was how he justified it to himself. "Mmm, you've got a fever." He told Chuck as he brushed the damp ginger hair away from Chuck's forehead.

'No shit, u wanker. What r u doing?'

Raleigh leaned in close and whispered his answer, "I'm being your boyfriend, hell practically the perfect one. The least your dumbass could do is play along, right?"

Chuck huffed at that and leaned into the casual touch. 'whatever. R we still doing that ice thing?'

"Like I'm gonna miss the chance to see you fall on your ass?" Raleigh teased. "We'll just have to reschedule for when you're better."

"I'll leave you two to be cutesy." Herc chuckled and Raleigh nearly face palmed.

They were totally—"Oh God, I'm the worst host-"

'Sorry Dad.'

"Don't be sorry. You two remind me of a better time." Herc only smiled at them and let himself out, nudging Max away from the door with his foot out of years of practice.

Raleigh practically turned the air blue with French curses before he sighed. "At least your Dad's convinced?"

"Why'd you kiss me?" Chuck's voice, as raspy as it was, caught his attention immediately.

"We're supposed to be dating. If I really was your boyfriend, I wouldn't let a cold keep me from kissing you. You were just so adorably grumpy," Raleigh replied before he caught what came out of his mouth. "I-I mean, I've gone and done it with my other relationships, y'know, so I thought you wouldn't mind—"

"Raleigh." Chuck's gaze cut off his voice faster than anything else. "Did you call me adorably grumpy?"

"No," he denied it quickly, valiantly trying to ignore how his face felt like it was on fire.

"You sure?"

"Yes!"

"Raleigh, I-"

"I think I might be in love with you." He blurted and then slapped both of his hands over his mouth in shock.

Oh he was so screwed; Chuck was going to break off their agreement, break up with him even though they weren't really dating and why did that thought hurt so much?

Raleigh made to stand, one foot planted on the floor when Chuck's hand shot out and grabbed the front of his sweater.

"I thought it was hopeless," Chuck coughed before he continued hoarsely. "that there was no way in a million years that sunshine personified would ever like me enough, but you said... You said you're in love with me."

Huh. Weren't they a match made in heaven; oblivious as hell until one of them confessed.

Raleigh settled back into the blankets and whispered, "'Sunshine personified'? Really?"

"Don't you start, Rahleigh."

"Well, since we're actually dating, there is a way to shut me up."

He was going to regret it later, he knew, but the feel of Chuck's tongue in his mouth over-rode the resignation of being sick right along with his boyfriend.

Mako only laughed when Raleigh whined about being sick.

[tediousfiction]

The Disc One Nuke - 4.01

<<<<Part 1 <<<Part 2 <<Part 3 <Previous Next>

Like clockwork, just as the chill of the morning started to fade the buzzing insects in the grassland surrounding their shelter rose from a faint hum to a maddening roar.

David couldn't help but smile a bit to himself as Radar's ears started twitching wildly.

His newest mon looked like he couldn't decide whether he wanted to be a bat or a squirrel and his white tufted ears were each nearly the size of the rest of his head and covered in a short blonde fur. Along with his over-sized amber eyes, pale complexion, delicate features, and a fluffy prehensile tail that was easily as long as he was tall, he was almost painfully cute.

Radar was sitting about ten feet away, resting his weight on his half-folded wings while he stared at a collection of twigs and tinder. Even in his most human form, he still had the basic body shape of a bat and it was his legs and his feet that did the work that in a human would be done by arms and hands. Right now, those feet were hovering around the tinder, with the fingers bent like claws, as Radar did his level best to start a fire with the pathetic little sparks that were his current limit at wielding electricity through his magic.

It was practice. Training.

And it was an endless source of frustration for the child-sized man-bat. His tail was flicking in irritation almost as much as his ears were reacting to the noise.

David turned back to the clay in his hands. He didn't have a wheel, and didn't really know how to use one, but with time and patience he'd learned to get pretty good at shaping and smoothing the clay and keeping it an even thickness.

"Not like that." He didn't have to raise his voice at all for Radar to hear him over the distance and the sound of the bugs. Those ears weren't for show. "You can't just let the energy flow if you want to accomplish anything. You need to hold it back, let it build up and hold some tension and then release it all at once."

He sent the sensation along the bond as he spoke. He'd never used magic himself, couldn't as far as he could tell, but after all this time he knew the feel of using it as well as he'd known the feel of working his car's clutch.

Radar's first try after that didn't do much but blister his own fingertips. But it didn't take long before he was carefully adding larger and larger fuel and blowing to build the flames.

Once the fire was going, there were other chores to worry about.

Set up the drying rack, pull the meat from the cooler, chill the rocks lining the cooler back down, wash the clothes and bedding, dry them out, and dozens of others. Everything that could be was done with magic even when that was the slowest and most exhausting way to do it.

They kept up a conversation the whole time, pausing when one or both needed to focus. David talked about Friday and Wiley, even a bit about Charlotte, how much they struggled together trying to just figure out how to live. He smiled at the memories, and laughed at some of the sillier things they'd done. It still hurt when he thought about the deaths, but time had made it easier to focus on the good.

Every once in awhile he paused and let his eyes unfocus so he could listen to another voice in the back of his head. There wasn't a point in talking back, but he'd still nod and smile or bark a laugh at times.

"How's her patrol going?" Radar's eyes were big enough he could fit a full kindergarten's worth of innocence into them. Didn't help him against David though.

"Really? Trying to cheat? You know that's not how the game's played."

Radar had the decency to look embarrassed, but he didn't say anything.

After a bit, David relaxed and stopped blocking off a corner of his mind from Radar.

"Besides, it's too little, too late."

It was hard to believe how little noise Bellatrix made when she wanted to be quiet. Even when she dropped out of the sky to land in the center of their courtyard, all two tons of her just made a soft thud that was barely louder than the droning insects.

Time hadn't changed Bellatrix's appearance. She was still the elephant-sized chimera blending together damned near every large land animal you didn't want to piss off at the same time. Maybe her dark red, nearly black, fur was a bit glossier, her horns, hooves, and claws a bit more polished, her fangs a bit cleaner, her fiery mane a bit brighter and less tangled. But anyone who'd seen her before would notice one thing first. Her eyes practically glowed with intelligence.

She met David's eyes with a knowing look of shared amusement. For Radar, she just had a sidelong glance and an exaggerated sniff of contempt.

Without a pause she glided through the courtyard to the bathing room, the only enclosed chamber in the shelter with an entrance wide enough for her to enter in her animal body.

And almost as soon as the bony club on the end of her tail slipped out of sight, she reemerged as human as she ever got. Nine feet tall, with hooved digitigrade legs, that same lethal weapon of a tail, skin darker than shadow that still glowed with crimson where the light reflected directly, wild red hair falling nearly to her waist, a wicked pair of black horns sweeping forward from her temples, and a body with enough fat for the occasional curve and enough heavy bones and muscles to make her look strong enough to bench press a Buick. In truth she was probably strong enough to juggle a parking lot if she wanted to.

She was wearing a simple silk wrap, what passed for her towel. It wasn't all that much different from their regular clothing, just missing the seams and drawstrings. The silk was starting to get pretty worn though.

Even the toughest fabrics degrade with enough time and use.

She came to sit behind David and started playing with his hair while his hands were busy with the mud.

"That doesn't look like a pot." She had an easy view from over his head. And a way of stating the obvious.

"It's a cup."

"No." She shook his head. He didn’t resist. "It's a dozen cups. And no pot."

"I'm still not sure I've got the clay right. The cups are to test it."

"Testing takes time. You said we were leaving in two days, and we still need a new pot." She used her hands to nod his head for him in agreement with herself.

Somewhere along the line Bell had become the voice that drove them forward. He was starting to suspect that who his mons became as people depended as much on him and what he wanted and expected from them as it did on any part of their previous nature.

Radar was every bit as childlike and innocent as his appearance suggested, nothing like the vicious little thieving assholes his wild relatives were. Bell, the giant, was a warrior and a leader in his eyes. She was the one with the pride and the ambition. The one that believed in who he could be the most and expected him to live up to that. He'd seen and wanted different things in Friday and Wiley and Charlotte.

It was a thought anyway. One he entertained while Bell and Radar teased each other about her prize for winning their competition over whether Radar was better at noticing threats or Bell was better at avoiding notice. She liked to stick to the river while they traveled, it let her swim at times and it helped her find fish and fights. Radar preferred to see trouble coming so he could go the other way.

David only half listened to them, instead mixing and kneading another lump of clay to work on the pot. He'd really meant to do it earlier. It was just too easy to get caught up in the task at hand and forget to move on to the next step.

"You miss her that much?"

David blinked and then looked again at the work in his hands, he was putting the finishing touches on the pot and was almost done carving Char's symbol on the rim.

"That too. But I'm just signing my work. And she's a part of who I am." He turned the pot to show her the other symbols, including her own.

The touch of jealousy she'd been feeling faded and she dropped her arms to circle his chest and pull him back toward her.

It was only a few minutes later that he finally set down his work and accepted her wordless offer of help to stand and go get cleaned up and ready for dinner.

<<<<Part 1 <<<Part 2 <<Part 3 <Previous Next>

[tearoomsaloon]

you know I actually have all your killer emperor fics saved on my phone; i don't have data and when i'm alone and sad, they always cheer me up. thank you so much for writing them :) i was wondering if i could prompt you to write maybe something like where rey finally starts seeing ren, just ren and not an emperor or a sith and she sees him as home

I don’t think I’ve actually felt so…touched before. I’m so happy something as small as my writing can put a smile on your face on a bad day. You can absolutely prompt me, 100%. You’re an angel, thank you so much for making my day. This one will be long, my present to you.

“It’s a fine day today, for all it’s worth.”

She’d been hearing sentences along those same lines for hours now, always directed towards her husband. He took them stoically, thanked the speaker, and continued to the next face to greet. It was a dual celebration today; his birthday, and the date of his ascension.

It would be improper to ask him why everyone needed to clarify that is was a good day even though it happened to be the current date. If she were to bring it up, he’d likely scowl and dismiss her back to her handmaidens, no longer privileged to stand beside him for the evening.

“What happened today?” she instead asked one of his many retainers.

The man paled, conflicted between answering the Empress’ request or keeping his lord’s privacy from his wife. “There was an event years ago, your grace.”

“It’s ‘your highness,” her husband corrected. He loomed over her shoulder like a glacier over an ocean. “She’s not a duchess, she gets the proper styling.”

She was ushered away without an answer, fingers like iron bars around her upper arm.

“I apologize, it’s not my business.”

“Damn right it’s not,” he hissed, sharp teeth flashing in a mouth of red. “Keep to yourself for the rest of the evening. If I want you later, I’ll find you myself.”

Coldly dismissed like a servant girl. Rejected, again. It was getting exhausting, wearing out his patience and then being cast aside. She left the grand hall, dejected. Better to see herself out before she upset him more than stick around and blow his temper out of proportion.

It took a half hour for her handmaidens to pry her from her ensemble. She locked herself in the fresher after and spent an hour taking off her makeup and showering. Face scrubbed and puffy red, she felt a little less miserable. Not presentable, not in a state in which she’d wish him to see her, but less upset. Staring at herself in the mirror, she cannot recall the last time her husband had seen her barefaced.

Hours upon hours later, she’d fallen asleep with the light on, a datapad curled in the sheets beside her. He was careful entering, quiet on his feet. He’d been so touchy all evening, it wasn’t fair to have snapped at her. It wasn’t fair to keep it from her either, but such a vulnerability…it was one of few things that cut him to his core.

She jolted awake when he neared, her eyes wide and unsettled. Uncomfortable. Damn. “My apologies.”

Rey sat up and cracked her neck, sleep clouding over her nervousness. “You said you’d fetch me if you wanted me?”

“I was going to ask if you wanted to spend the night in my bed, but you look tucked in already.”

“No, no, it’s all right,” she said around a yawn. “It’s your birthday.”

He managed to stifle his cringe.

She was slow to wake, to wrap a robe around her shoulders, to follow him down the long hall from her quarters to his. In some ways, he found it odd they were married. He’d practically stolen her from the desert and sweet-talked her into helping him win a bet (not that she knew), and she was still there at his side. It was rare, so rare, they spend time together. The last time they shared a bed was over a month ago. Too long in his opinion.

He undressed slowly while she practically flopped into his bed and crawled under the blanket. She could have just said no if she didn’t want to stay with him. No, she was content away from his beastly presence.

“I’m going to fall back asleep if you take any longer,” came her voice, floaty and laced with dreams.

The last of his robes shucked, he switched off the lights and followed after her, deliberating whether or not to touch her, to lay an arm around her.

“You can if you want,” she mumbled, listening in over their bond.

He kissed a bare spot on her shoulder and drew her in by the waist. “I’m sorry for snapping earlier.”

“You were within your right. You can keep secrets from me, any and all.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“It’s your decision, you’re the emperor.”

They were supposed to be on equal ground. “Sleep well, princess.”

She chuckled. “I’m not a princess.”

With a sigh, he held her tighter.

Rey took up snooping as a hobby. If she couldn’t ask and he wouldn’t tell her, she was going to figure this out for herself. It took about a week to find the right part of his vast library to look. Flimsies and display discs lined the walls, each with their own distinct home. He kept records of previous years, news reports, logs, anything and everything. She took a few stabs at which year the event happened during and came up empty for five years back.

It was seven years ago. He was still practically a child.

“Crown Prince Ben Organa, 19, has been thrust forward onto the throne years too early. The prince’s eyes were glazed, his mind no doubt still lingering on the assassination that occurred earlier this morning, leaving him orphaned—”

Rey dropped the holopad, hand flying to her mouth to hide her small scream. She’d never asked what happened to his parents, why he’d taken his throne at such a young age. She assumed patricide, but the more she read, the more unlikely that looked. For starters, his mother had been empress regent, her husband, prince consort.

She was careful leaving his quarters, hoping he was still in meetings with his war cabinet. Slipping back into her rooms, she felt like her mental image of him was beginning to crumble. He had rough edges and sharp teeth, but he hid a softness, a weakness. Not from everyone, but from her. He didn’t want her to see him vulnerable.

“But you have now, haven’t you?” He was there in her room, standing in front of the windows overlooking Coruscant. With a deep breath, he glanced at her over his shoulder, amber eyes dulled. “You couldn’t help yourself.”

Ashamed, she turned away. “We’re supposed to be equals, Kylo.”

His laugh was humorless. “What other burning questions do you have for me?”

“You changed your name?”

“I put a close to a broken chapter in my life. Next.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s not your business.”

“I’m your wife, Kylo.” She heard the choke in her voice and swore. “We’re supposed to be a team. You can trust me.”

“It’s not about trust.”

“Then what is it about? You don’t tell me things that are important to you, about your past, who you are as a person. We’ve shared a bed maybe six times, and none of those times have we been intimate.”

“So?”

“We’ve been wed for a year and a half,” she growled. “Maybe you should have left me in the desert.”

“Maybe I should have.” He brushed by her in his exit, temper like a forest fire scorching on his heels.

Sliding down onto her sofa, she hoped this little outburst wouldn’t land her in a ditch somewhere below the city.

She found him in his office two nights later, his hands steepled, eyes closed. He had been careful not to run into her and she hadn’t seen tail or tooth of him since he’d left her emotionally bloody.

“I want to apologize,” she started, eyes as far from his face as she could manage.

“Don’t.” Golden eyes opened, fire lost from his gaze. “Come here please.”

Hesitant, she stepped around his desk, unsure of what he meant when he rested his arms on his chair.

“All the way to me, princess.” He pulled her onto his lap, wrapping her tightly to his chest. “I was young when it happened. It changed who I was, how I saw myself. How the the empire saw me. I grew cold, trading emotions for ruthlessness.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s the hand I was dealt.” Ren kissed her forehead, lips lingering a moment too long. “I’m grateful I found you, I wouldn’t trade you for anything.”

He carried her to bed after pouring his soul out, drained and exhausted. He kissed her on the cheek and disappeared, leaving her with a mountain of unanswered questions.

It was difficult to sleep, her feeling swirling and clawing. She’d been so angry with him and now she felt...distraught. Mournful for a tragedy that was not her own. She wanted to comfort him as best she could, but he was still distant, emotionally. She wondered, somewhat hopelessly, if he’d ever truly let her in for good.

Not to her surprise, he disappeared again. The palace was enormous and it was easy for him to evade her, to avoid another confrontation. The next time she saw his visage was over the HoloNet in the middle of an address. His dark curls swam around his face, long blue and silver jewels dripping like dew across his head. He had such an interesting face, his nose long but elegant, brow regal, alabaster skin speckled with spots.

She’d never really looked at him before, never fully noticed his attractiveness. It had been clouded over by the nights of bloodstained hands and wild animal eyes. A smile flashed quickly across his lips and her heartbeat skipped. This man was hers, his flaws and scars and all.

Rey didn’t have to sneak to see him the next time, finding he instead came to her. She had a mild heart attack, turning to pull her pajamas from her closet only to find a visitor beside her bed. Her pulse thundered at the sight of him, at the delicate expression in his eyes.

They met in the middle, drawn to each other. He let her brush his cheek with her fingers, let them lace back into his silky hair. The kiss to follow was tender, slow, all-encompassing. She followed him when he broke away, stealing him back for a second more.

“I want to kiss like that more often,” she said softly into the warmth of his neck. “I want you more often.”

“And you’ll have me.” He tilted her chin up, nipped at her cheek, her ears. “Starting tonight, if you want me to stay.”

She looked up at her husband, grinning. “I’d like that,” she said, pulling him down for another kiss, pulling him towards the bed.

[etraytin]

Fluffy Romantic Fic for Today

It’s weird not putting “of the day” in my fic post titles, but since I finished up the August Fic-a-Day (which I still need to put on Tumblr, yikes!) and WIP week, I’m not doing anything of-the-day at the moment. Which is good because I have Responsibilities. But I did take up the Never Have I Ever challenge last week, where people could throw tropes at me and I would either point to a place where I’ve already used that trope or, failing that, write that trope. Not every prompt I got from that was actually a trope, but I got some good stuff to put on the list! And I got the trope “movie night” from @actuallylorelaigilmore, which is one I haven’t really used before. 

(Continuity Note: This is a sequel to my story Timing, Degree and Conviction, but all you really need to know is that Josh became aware of his feelings for Donna before Gaza (with some help from CJ), and the two of them have actually been able to express how they feel for one another. And Colin wasn’t a thing.) 

The good thing about being in a military hospital, (well, one of the good things) was that it was easy to find a secure phone line when one was needed. That ability, along with the high speed internet, was really the only way Josh had been able to parlay his helter-skelter race across the Atlantic into a sort of working vacation. Well, that and the fact he'd been able to convince Leo of his sincerity that he would resign rather than fly home before he was absolutely sure Donna was out of the woods. Josh was sure there was a painful conversation coming up when he got back to the States, but for now it had gotten him what he wanted, more time. Even if that time did entail two-hour transatlantic conference calls more often than he'd like. By the time he hung up the phone on this one, his ear felt as though it had swelled to twice its normal size, and he was desperate to get back to the sixth floor.  

Donna had been moved into a different room once she'd left intensive care, similar to the first but on a corner so there were windows on two walls. Tonight she'd made it as far as the armchair set between the windows, about four feet from the bed, where she was resting with her mostly-immobile leg propped up. Her eyes were closed and she was pale and sweaty. Physical therapy, he remembered. Keeping his tone deliberately light, he poured a cup of water and took it to her. “Looks like they let you out of bed again. How far'd you get this time?”

She opened her eyes and looked at him, and he had to resist the urge to flinch or flee. Watching Donna in pain was really not something he was good at. “Not far enough,” she muttered, her voice rough. “They're trying to get me out into the hallway, but I just can't!” Her fists clenched on the chair's padded armrests. “My physical therapist is a sadist.”

“They all are, I told you that years ago,” he reminded her, dropping into the folding chair next to her seat. “But back then it was all, “just do your damn breathing exercises, Joshua, they're good for you.” He picked up her still-clenched fist, brushed a kiss over the knuckles. “Sorry I couldn't be there.”

Her hand uncurled just a little in his as she gave him a faint smile. “Probably better that you weren't,” she admitted. “You get kind of hostile.”

“What, me?” he asked, deliberately exaggerating his denial in the hopes of getting a laugh out of her. It worked, just a little. “I'm not hostile, I'm just assertive. And maybe a little bit loud sometimes. I have opinions, that doesn't make me hostile.”

“You threatened to feed that nurse her blood pressure cuff,” she reminded him with a sly little grin. “My mom almost had to take you out out of the room.”

“She had it way too tight! She was obviously some kind of wacko sneaking in dressed as a nurse to try and steal state secrets,” he maintained, still rubbing her hand lightly.

Her fingers gradually opened under his as she relaxed. “See, hostile,” she grinned. “And bewigewent.”

He smirked. “I'm glad you've joined me in my quest to never let CJ live that down.”

“It only seems fair, since you're going to hear the story about your secret plan to fight inflation at your retirement party one day.”

“And I'm sure you'll be the one telling it. Where's your mom?”

“I sent her out this time too, it was kind of a bad session.” Donna closed her eyes again, tipped her head back against the chair. “Seeing her get upset just makes me feel worse, plus she hasn't gotten more than a few hours sleep since she got here. I made her go to the hotel and told her not to come back till breakfast time.”

“At least you're not depriving her of the famous breakfast schnitzel,” Josh quipped.

“God forbid. I told her to bring me some actual food when she comes back, I actually think I might feel like eating something by then.”

“Good plan.” Josh looked at his watch. “How long are you allowed to stay in the chair this time?”

“I should probably be getting back to bed,” she admitted reluctantly. “But the bed is boring. I'm not really even tired.” She rolled her eyes at the frankly skeptical look he gave her. “My body is tired, yeah, but my brain isn't. I'm not ready to go back to sleep.”

“Yeah, it's not exactly scintillating in here-”

“There's that verbal SAT score I know and love.”

“-but I did bring something to help pass the time. Did you know these televisions have DVD players attached?”

“Really?” Donna asked, her interest piqued. “You brought a movie?”

“No, I brought a puppet theater,” he teased. “I did bring you a movie. Get into bed and I'll tell you which one.”  

Getting Donna back into bed was a surprisingly difficult and lengthy process given the short distance, but Josh was starting to get the hang of it after a few days. The worst part was that her leg was still so sensitive that any jarring was painful, but the entire process was nothing but a series of jarring maneuvers. By the time she was back in bed and propped up on the series of block and wedge shaped pillows that held her lower body in position, there were small tears in the corners of her squeezed-shut eyes. “You know,” he reminded her quietly, “you could ask for more pain relief.”

Donna shook her head. “I'm okay. They're still giving me some and I don't want to get dependent.”

Josh understood that feeling well enough that he didn't argue, just passed her a tissue.  After carefully wiping her eyes, Donna opened them and took a deep breath. “So, what's my movie?”

“Field of Dreams,” Josh told her cheerfully, then laughed when she groaned. “It's a great movie.”

“It's a baseball movie. About corn.” She was in full pout mode now, arms folded and lower lip sticking out.

One of these days, he promised himself, he'd nibble that pouting lip, then kiss that look right off her face. Not tonight, though. They hadn't really had much chance to talk about the change in their relationship, other than that brief reiteration of their feelings when Donna had woken from surgery. Both of them seemed to sense that it would wait for a later time when they were both stronger. Instead of words they had small touches, subtle gestures, tiny intimacies that hadn't been allowed before, no matter how much the'd been desired. It was good enough for now.

He hefted the bag he'd brought instead. “Right, I forgot Wisconsin and Iowa are mortal enemies somehow. Let's see what else I've got. Hoosiers, The Replacements, Major League, The Natural...”

“Did you just grab every sports movie you could find?” she asked, disgusted.

“Don't look at me, they really seem to like sports movies around here. The English language collection is kind of limited,” he told her. When he could no longer stand her looking disappointed, he folded and reached into the bag. “Oh, and this one,” he added, handing it over.

“A League of Their Own!” Instantly the pout was erased, and even the pain seemed to take a backseat as Donna squealed with delight. “I love this one.”

“Yeah, I know,” he he told her smugly. “But you have to promise you're not going to quote the entire movie while we watch it.” She made a sober “cross your heart” gesture. “And you should feel free to go to sleep,” he added as he took the disc from her and put it into the machine. “I can always pause it for tomorrow.”

“I'm not tired,” she insisted. Josh lowered the lights in the room anyway, then came back to sit down in his chair next to the bed. He wished he could be closer to her, but her leg was much too sensitive for him to so much as sit on the edge of the bed. This would do for now. It was even better when her hand crept out to take his, their fingers interlinking as the FBI warning began to play. As the previews played, he tried to just savor the moment with the understanding of how close it had come to not happening at all.  “Josh?”

“Mm-hmm?” he asked, turning to look at her as the opening credits rolled.

Donna smiled at him. “You know I'm gonna quote the entire movie, right?”

“Yeah.” He heaved a put-upon sigh.

“Come on, there's no crying in baseball. No crying.” She chuckled, then drew his hand up to rest it against her cheek.

“One of these days I'm going to pee in your sink and call it an homage,” Josh threatened.

“Gross. Shh, it's starting.” True to her word, Donna quoted most of the movie's memorable lines for the entire thirty minutes she was able to remain awake. She also kept holding his hand, so that by the time he tugged gently away from her limp grasp, his fingers were slightly numb. He paused the movie and turned off the television, dropping the room into near-darkness. Hospital rooms were never truly dark, he remembered that much very well.

Now would probably be an ideal time for him to go back to the hotel, to the room he'd barely set foot in except to shower and change clothes, but instead Josh slumped back down into the uncomfortable chair. He figured (he hoped) that there would come a time when he could let her out of his sight and not spend every moment thinking about that first awful sight of her empty hospital room and all that blood, but it wasn't going to be just yet. Besides, the pain made her sleep restless sometimes, and he didn't want her to wake alone. His back could take a little more abuse. Sliding his hand over hers once more, he closed his eyes and counted himself to sleep by the rhythm of her breaths.

(This story is also archived at AO3 under the title What Makes it Great.) 

[gettinziggywithit]

The Next Contestant

Alright, so I got parts 1 and 2 written for one of my Undermusic fics. It’s Underfell Frans based on Nickelback’s song, The Next Contestant feat. Foreigner’s Counting Every Minute sprinkled in the middle!

The club right behind Grillby’s bar was the hottest joint in the Monster District. The old, crumbling building was literally vibrating with energy from both the Monster activity that inhabited the place and the crushing guitar and drum beats that filtered through its stereo speakers. Most humans avoided the Monster District like the plague, but some humans were curious by default and little by little, they snuck into the district as it was still highly frowned upon to be seen meddling with monsters. The monsters soon found how easy it was to manipulate humans through their various sins whether it be greed, gluttony, or especially lust. They flocked to the darkened atmosphere of Grillby’s bar and if one knew the right password, were led back beyond the shelves of monster and human liquors to a simple door that held behind its locks, a sordid wonderland filled with debauchery, cheap drinks, and pretty women.

On one of these nights, Sans sat at one of the tables in the back of the room where he could keep an eye on everyone around him. He wasn’t here for the liquor or the women. He only had eyes for one and that was currently his mate who was serving drinks from behind the bar in a too tight, too short mini dress. He was less than pleased when he found what Frisk was doing on the side to help bring money to the table, but when he realized just what she could make in one night and how much she enjoyed it, he gave in. But, stars, why did it have to be this place?!

Grillby's could make a mean burger and fries with the good mustard, but this was a seedy hole in the wall filled with lesser than desirable monsters and even less desirable humans. Sans glared at the nearby patrons who flocked to his mate like flies to honey as he chewed on the cigar he held between his teeth and inhaled, feeling the pungent, tobacco ridden smoke fill his non existent lungs. Frisk was a bartender in this hell hole and was apparently the favorite of many from what Grillby had to say. Sans was livid when he learned that not only was she doing a job on the side but at a stripper bar no less! One night he stomped up to the joint, bent on dragging her out and away from lustful glances. That particular night did not end well and she ignored him for the better part of the next week.

She only gave in when he finally apologized, much to her surprise. Sans was not the time to give out genuine apologies, if any apology at all, and eventually they reconciled. After a long conversation 'rules' of sorts were set up followed by lots of reassurance from Frisk that she belonged to him and him only. The rule he found out that she already had in place to begin with was no touching...at all. Frisk admitted that any touch was uncomfortable and even at one point was painful. Sans smiled, his bond with her was strong enough that she would tolerate no touch except for his. For the monsters around her that was easy to broadcast, she had bonded with not only a boss monster, but Sans Gaster. Any monster who had a brain knew she was off limits the minute she was nearby. The humans, though? It was near impossible some nights to get the men to leave her be. Most would leave be once she firmly said, “No, I'm taken" or a “fuck off” followed by a deep set glare from either Grillby or Sans, but there was always someone who would push just a little more and end up on the wrong side of Sans. He had taken numerous humans outside to the alley and persuaded them to leave and never come back. That proved useful until Grillby started to complain that he was driving his business away and sans relented, only to take the trash out when Frisk gave him a sign. She only worked certain nights, but he wished she would take a night off because as more humans wandered in, the more he had to get involved.

"Look, sans, I only work Tuesdays,Thursdays, and Saturdays and only from 8 to 2AM. Grillby is well aware of our rules and while he doesn't like to play babysitter, he does interfere if you're not there to stand watch." Frisk was getting ready for work, applying makeup to her face. Once done, she stood and walked over to sans who was sitting on the bed, frowning. “He shouldn’t hafta look after ya at all. I don’t like seeing all those humans stare at ya like fucking meat on a stick, just wanting a bite.” He growled as his red eyelights met hers, “Yer mine, Frisk.” She took his skull in her hands and kissed the side of it, leaving a lipstick mark. "There, now you're visibly mine and I'm visibly yours. Don't even think about wiping it off tonight. I'll be looking for it when I come home...maybe I'll leave more if you're good."

Sans shifted in his seat, his pants now feeling about two sizes too small. He still bore the lipstick mark on the side of his head and any snickers or jokes he received were ignored as he pondered what she would have in store for him. Saturday nights were the busiest and the bar was packed. Grillby would run the bar with Frisk and even though they both knew where they stood with Frisk, Grillby just loved to test sans and flirt with her. He wouldn’t hesitate to go skull to flame with him if he didn’t back off. But, when it was busy Grillby was far more interested in bringing in the cash.

“Hey there, sugarskull, whatcha doing back here all by your lonesome?” Sans didn’t even move as the scantily clad female monster approached him and all but bared her three breasts at him. He gave her a glance up and down. Pft, not even comparable to his mate’s curves. “Beat it, I got no time for bitches like ya. It’s not like I’d get a lot ‘fer a coupla G, anyway.” The monster gasped and then stomped away and sans grinned, tapping some of the ashes off the cigar. It had a been a long day at the car shop and he would like nothing more than to grab his mate and head home for some quality alone ti-

“BROTHER.”

Shit. There went any semblance of a good night. Sans turned to see his brother, Papyrus with his arms crossed and glaring at him. Mettaton was behind and had draped his four arms all over him and was smiling deviously at Sans. He shot a dirty look at him, if there was one thing he disliked more than humans preying on his mate, it was his brother’s shit talking boyfriend. “W-what’s up, Boss?” Sans crammed the cigar back into his mouth to try and alleviate the rising anxiety. Papyrus managed to untangle himself from his boyfriend and sat down across from his brother, still glowering.

“WHAT IS THAT MARK ON YOUR SKULL?”

Sans could feel his face grow hot, he didn’t have to explain to anyone else why he had the kiss mark, but his brother wouldn’t take no for an answer and had to know anything and everything. “Itsa, itsa a kiss mark, bro. Frisk said I hafta keep it on till the end of the night.” Papyrus cackled, “A KISS MARK?! IS THAT ACTUALLY HOW HUMANS MARK ONE ANOTHER?! HOW SAD. A MARK SHOULD BE PAINFUL, PERMANENT!” Mettaton draped himself over Papyrus, “Mmm, and you do know how to mark someone good.”

It was Papyrus’ turn to blush and he looked away, murmuring something to Mettaton. “Well, my love, the audience calls!” And with that Mettaton sauntered away and into the DJ booth where Napstablook was currently working. The lights dimmed and the men started to hoot and holler as the music started up and women flocked to the stage, stripping to the playing music and gathering tips from the drunken men. Sans grabbed one of many mustard bottles and started to down it, at one point in time this would’ve entertained him, now it just bored him.

Hours passed and he damn near fell asleep, but his brother jostled him awake near closing time. He sleepily rubbed his tired eyes and looked towards the bar. Grillby was stocking the liquor and wiping down the glasses with Frisk nowhere in sight. He stood up, knocking mustard bottles everywhere much to his brother’s irritation and stomped over to the purple flame fucker. “Alright, Grillbs, where is she?!” Grillby didn’t even react as he kept cleaning the glasses, “that’s gonna cost you, Sans. Pay your tab and we’ll talk.” Sans growled, “Ya got five seconds to hand her over before I dunk yer fuckin’ head in the sink!”

Grillby merely purred from behind the bar, “Careful, sans, the fun hasn’t even begun yet”. Sans yanked on his tie pulling him down to his level, “whaddya mean by ‘fun’? And choose yer next words wisely.” All of sudden, Mettaton’s voice rang out across the room, “AND FOR OUR FINAL SHOW, A TREAT FROM THE DAME HERSELF, MISS FRISKY BUSINESS!”

Sans nearly choked on air as a silence crept across the room with every patron and even the dancers stopping to witness the performance. Sans growled as he surveyed the crowd to see men, women, and monster alike already staring with lustful intent. The silence was soon broken by the sound of Mettaton switching out his digital mainframe to pull up an old vinyl record player and plug it into the stereo system. A small 45 was retrieved and the needle hovered over the spinning disc. “Now boys and girls, I will remind you only once of the golden rule: you are forbidden to touch or even approach Miss Frisk in any sort of way.” Mettaton chuckled lowly, “if you choose to ignore the rule…” He glanced over at sans and smiled, “well, you’re in for a bad time... Enjoy!”

The sound of a rocking guitar blared through the speakers as a figure rose from the middle of the stage. Handcuffed and shackled lazily on the pole ascending from the shadows was his mate, who was in a red and black ruffle dress that hid much of her figure to his relief. The pole rose to its full height and she glanced around the room her eyes hidden from others under black lace. Sans swore he felt burning intensity from beneath the lace as her gaze landed on his. She had eyes for him and him only.

As the lyrics began, she broke free of the restraints, tossing them every which way and spinning around the pole, gracefully. Sans was flabbergasted. He had no earthly idea that A. Frisk would EVER do something like this and B. look so damn good doing it. The song approached the chorus and as it did, Frisk began shimmying out of the ruffled skirt, earning whistles and shouts from the audience. Free from the skirt, she kicked it at the men in the front row where they tore and fought for it.

Whenever she looked out to the crowd she only made eye contact with sans, and for a moment, sans thought it was just her and him in this dingy little shithole. She turned and his eyelights nearly fizzled out when he saw a pair of skeletal hands printed on the back of the black silk underwear she wore. “HEY BABY, I GOT A BONE FOR YOU!” Sans quickly got to his feet and located the man who shouted at his mate. There was one going in for a bad time. Grillby snagged his hoodie, “Sans, remember what I said last time. Only if they touch-” Sans growled back and shook off his grasp, “Last time she was just serving your piss beer to them, now she’s up there showing off what should be for me!”

Grillby finished the glass he was washing, “Who said it wasn’t for you? Frisk is the one who asked for this little show. Such a shame she only asked for this once, she seems to be a natural.” Sans felt his teeth grinding, “Shut the fuck up and keep those embers to yerself if ya know what’s best for ya.” Grillby merely chuckled as sans turned around to enjoy the rest of the show..

Frisk was now on her knees, playing with the hooks that held the bodice together. Sans was shaking his head no, but she nodded yes and slowly started unhooking it one by one. When it was down to one last hook, sans was nearly gouging marks into the bar with his clawed hand while the other palmed at his very apparent erection. She was mouthing something to him, “all for you, just for you” and then she ripped the bodice open revealing a bra made of nothing but skeletal hands holding them up and caressing them. The mark that sans made was ever present on her shoulder and she flaunted it for all to see.

Oh fuck it all, sans wished those were his hands right there, right now. As she moved her own hands all over her body and gyrated rhythmically to the music, sans was sure he was drooling. The dollar bills rained down on her as she sensually rose to her feet and retreated back to the pole. The song was going into it’s final run and she hoisted herself up onto the pole, swinging her legs out to then close and hug the pole. Her movements were sleek and fluid and she twisted herself up, down, and around the pole, much to the delight of the onlookers.

Frisk ended her performance curled around the top of the pole and slid down elegantly, graciously accepting the flurry of dollar bills that were thrown at her. One of the female strippers came out with a silk robe that Frisk quickly put on and finished picking up the bills. Men and Monster were yelling and whistling asking for personal lap dances to which Frisk only smiled and shook her head, saying her dance card was permanently filled.

Sans was caught between wanting to take her out back to discipline her for the little “show” she put on and fucking her into next week. Both could be done very easily. He watched as she jumped off the side of the stage and began to make her way towards him. She had taken the lace mask off and was smiling deviously at him. He gave a malicious smile of his own back and for a moment, he saw a spark of uneasiness in her eyes. Oh she knew what she was in for.

“SANS. THAT WAS...AN INTERESTING SHOW YOUR MATE PUT FORTH.”

Sans’ head swiveled, eyes glowing brightly at his brother, “That’s enough of yer talk, Paps. Take the conniving sexbot home and fuck off.” Papyrus smiled down at his brother and was about to retort when Frisk yelled out, “HEY, DON’T TOUCH ME!” Papyrus quickly stood to the side as sans leapt to his feet. Frisk was trying to wrench her arm away from a drunken patron who didn’t know the meaning the word, “don’t”. “Aw, c’mon sugartits, I can do better than that bag of bones can.” A lewd swipe of his tongue over his lips sent her pulling back, trying to twist out of his grip. “Not even in your dreams, asshole.”, Frisk managed to snarl back.

The offender growled back and forcefully yanked on her wrist. A sharp popping noise was heard and she let out a high gasp, crumpling to the floor, cradling her now broken wrist. Silence was met across the bar and the patrons nearest the man, all scooted back and away. A near homicidal throb of magic emanated from sans at the bar as his left eye spilled forth bright red magic. Papyrus had a scowl on his face as he produced two large bones out of thin air. Grillby’s flames danced dangerously as he bellowed, “OUT. NOW.”

If there was a problem before, there was definitely a problem now.