#calhoun burns

[nerds-yearbook]

The last episode of the Mask cartoon aired on November 26, 1986. The series ran for 2 seasons and 75 episodes. ("Cliff Hanger", Mask, TV Event)

[eatgecom]

A cool double-sided design of the 1985 animated television series - M.A.S.K.(Mobile Armored Strike Kommand).

[adrian-sheppy]

for star trek au. want to make more . we wll see. . info dump under cut. its a bit disjointed

this whole au endevour has had me reading all the wikis for andorians. like “transgender” on andoria would be a blanket term because of the four named “canon” sexes (and the unnamed sexes that would fall “between” these!. and who knows how many genders.) i'm not gonna get into it here . there's a lot to say .

andorians are militant and family oriented. child rearing is very important. they suffer near constant population issues; one cause is that they need four people to have one kid. andorians are traditionally polyamorous and pansexual but they wouldnt use these terms . barney cant cut it in an andorian polycule so barney dating one guy (WHO IS VULCAN!!!) and neither of them wanting kids = traditional andorians instantly dislike him. guy with the biggest target on his back. joined star fleet so people back home would stop eviscerating him. like now when barney loses an antenna he is treated nicely instead of being roasted until it grows back! so cool . andorians in star fleet would be more accepting of untraditional andorian relationships . i.e jennifer lower decks . but gordons a vulcan so thats gonna cause some issues also...

...dont get me started on gordon's relationship with Vulcans and how they would treat him... like NO ONE talks about sybok outside of final frontier (i think he was mentioned in snw ?) not even in DISCO where the s'chn t'gai family is a FUCKING FOCAL POINT. they pretend he doens't exist because vulcans put things into boxes and rationalize them away . and when they cant? dont acknowledge it. call it irrational and move on... and then in comes gordon (number one hater of the vulcan science academy btw) and he cant regulate his emotions like the majority of vulcans can. he makes many vulcans uncomfortable by just EXISTING. its like the prejudice spock has to deal with but times 100x because he CANT keep his cool. it's used to discredit him and to question his vulcan heritage . and its called a “defect” primarily by vulcan doctors. his brain is just more similar to a humans than a vulcans. its a congenital disorder by vulcan standards.

they were both dealt shit cards and born into a culture that doesn't work for them (or gordon finds out later about said culture and see it has no room for him), so waht do? escape to the stars. misfits congregate in star fleet. and barney runs hot like the vulcan deserts and gordon runs cold like the ice moon of andoria and in eachothers arms they are at home and accepted for being the outcasted assholes that they are . . . . . ... and gordon is a chocoholic. love wins.

[sacreblugh]

im on the pot 🤑🤑

[jackbugz]

I'm 16 now (I drew this on my phone)

[formulaheart]

Somebody HAS to let me tell them about how Noah Calhoun and Jay Gatsby are the same but different and how The Notebook and The Great Gatsby are the same but different

[macroy64]

A Collage

This is a big collage of Characters, Celebrities and my friends.

[badmovieihave]

Bad movie I have Wagon Train: The Complete Season Five 1961-1962

[comicgeekscomicgeek]

She dialed that phone just like Rory Calhoun.

top tier simpsons bit tbh

[mrsmeowsblog]

“The best revenge is to be unlike him who performed the injury”. — Marcus Aurelius

1877 Yreka, California

Midday sunlight streamed onto the hardwood floor as three children studied at the kitchen table. The breeze carried inside a gentle, sweet aroma of wildflowers, making the wind chimes sang softly. The gentle scratching of slat pencils against the stone slate with occasional murmurs and questions directed at the eldest sister. She leaned over, explaining the division equation to her younger brother. He started jotting an answer down on his stone slate and then gave her a big toothy grin.

Lenore, the oldest of fifteen years, stopped studying for a second, trying to balance the slat pencil on her nose. But the distant sound of their dog barking broke the calm, causing Lenore to drop her pencil. Her younger siblings giggled at her shenanigans.

Lenore chuckled as she picked up her pencil, pressing her tongue against the roof of her mouth in thought as she completed her final math equation. A satisfied smile spread across her face, and warmth blossomed in her chest as she was proud of her work. She set the slate pencil down and pushed her chair back.

She stood, smoothing her simple cotton dress as she picked up her slate. Her corset dug slightly into her ribs. She opened the screen door, which banged shut behind her, and walked outside to where her father sat on the porch, smoking a pipe and reviewing some notes.

“All done, Papa,” Lenore said, holding her stone out for her father to take. Her father’s dark eyes looked up at Lenore before setting down his paper.

He sat up straight, smoothing his tan cotton button-up. His large hands took the stone from her much smaller ones as his eyes darted, scanning the equations.

“You have done exceptionally well, Lenore. Not a single answer is incorrect,” he remarked, handing the stone back to Lenore. She smiled brightly at her father’s praise.

“Can I help at the clinic tomorrow, Papa?” Lenore asked, hoping her father would say yes. She loved assisting others and always felt proud when she could support a patient.

He adjusted his round glasses and thoughtfully cupped his chin. "You are welcome to help at the clinic. Your assistance would be greatly appreciated," he said, lowering his hand from his chin and resting it on his leg.

Her two younger siblings, Arthur and Margaret, rushed past her, eager for their turn. Arthur, eight, wore a simple blue button-up shirt and brown pants, while Margaret, six, wore a plain gray dress. They crowded around their father, holding up their slates.

He chuckled, setting his pipe on a small table beside him before taking their work in his hands. “Alright, alright, one at a time,” he said with a grin, his dark eyes flicking between their eager faces as he examined their answers.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63325138/chapters/162226750

[getoutofthisplace]

Dear Gus & Magnus,

Soccer game after school/work today. Gus is still getting a foot on the ball, but not aggressive enough to really make an impact, and at one point someone flying a kite in an adjacent field proved too much of a distraction, but he had fun, which makes me and Mom happy. Game ended in a tie 3-3. The boys are referring to themselves as "The Ice Skulls," which I originally interpreted as "The Icicles." Season record: 1-0-1.

Dad.

Little Rock, Arkansas. 4.11.2024 - 5.33pm.

[fridgrave2-0]

turbo made himself a hero's duty sona to have an opportunity to kill some cybugs (he's not laughing like a maniac while burning them with a flamethrower)

in HD he took a role of a shop keeper for players to buy or update their weapons and ammo (and he makes a presentation of every weapon you buy by killing cybugs with it)

and since calhoun guides the player to the tower she's always in the shop with the player so turbo can have a little chat with her hehe

[inkzectz]

THE SIBLINGS EVER

Use your head. But don’t be afraid to believe in things either.

[storiesofsvu]

Rituals

Rita Calhoun x fem!reader Warnings: language, minor angst/hurt-comfort. Anxiety, general like, sadness I guess? This is a post-SSS update. There will likely be more in the future as I cannot leave this world alone and it all fits so well together and I love it so freaking much. 4.2k

Rita was always anxious on the days you were scheduled to come home from an undercover operation, never knowing what the actual outcome was going to be. She hated the days that all she got was a quick phone call, an update that the op was extending and she wouldn’t be seeing you for another month. Worse were the days you’d come home with lingering bruises marking your skin, or the one time she had to meet you at the hospital, your Captain forcing you for a full work up and observation after a concussion and other injuries. But today was different.

Today she woke up feeling jittery, the usual excitement about getting to see you vacant from her body, nerves tingling through her instead. She felt so off she even refrained from coffee until nearly noon, managing her first cup alongside delivered lunch as she took a break from laundry. Rita always wanted the house to be clean when you got home, fresh sheets on the bed, things tidy and neat, a hinting smell of cleaning supplies lingering through the kitchen and a nice candle or two burning in the living room. It was something she started doing for you not long after the two of you moved in together, prior to that she didn’t really notice or realize just how much of an impact going undercover had on you. Having to be on and ready to go twenty-four hours a day, sometimes stashed in crappy little apartments with barely any fresh air in the same clothes for a week on end. Sometimes you were thrown in so quick you didn’t have time to do more than prep for the case, coming home to rotting vegetables and no clean laundry. Those days you started going straight to Rita’s place, your body aching to relax, finally able to let go of all the tension you’d been holding for however long. It didn’t take her long to figure out what you needed and how to combat any lingering stress and anxiety, how to welcome you back into your real world. Now it had become part of her routine, a ritual to make sure things were as perfect as they could be for the person she loved the most.

Rita stabbed her fork into her salmon salad, forcing herself to chew another bite at the island as her eyes searched through the living room. It wasn’t too bad, a blanket bunched up on the couch, a personal development book her therapist recommended left abandoned beside it, the novel she’d picked up instead tucked in the cushion. There were a few case files and obviously a collection of coffee mugs scattered across the coffee table, a handful of dishes in the sink. She doubted it would take her that long to finish everything so she took the opportunity to open her phone and place a grocery order while she battled her anxiety and attempted to finish her lunch. She was adamantly trying to shake out of it, continually telling herself that she was being ridiculous, that she had no reason to be this stressed about seeing her literal wife again. It wasn’t some weird gut feeling that something was wrong, it was her apprehension about a few changes she had made while you were gone, the worry about how you would react to them, the fear churning in her gut that you were going to hate them or not understand.

As she finished stashing the cordless vacuum in the hall closet she let out a sigh of relief, pushing her hair back with her hand, still finding it jolting when her hand was free so much faster than it had been a week prior. She found herself fiddling with the ends of the bob as she wandered the apartment, making sure everything was ready for your arrival before she finally headed to the shower. Warm water cascading across her body mixed with the lavender soap seemed to be helping calm her down, her eyes softly shutting when she washed her hair and her heart didn’t seem to be pounding so hard in her chest. Wrapped in a towel she blow dried her hair, taking the time to style it a little bit, putting on just the bare minimum of make up to feel a little more pretty before slipping into cozy clothes. She had a text from Olivia on her phone, saying you had offered to run the last of the paperwork over to Carisi on the way home, but she’d officially kicked you out of the precinct.

Rita took a breath, taking one last look in the mirror to survey herself, her hands smoothing down her shirt before she tugged on a cardigan, scooping up her phone and grabbing her glasses before wandering out to the living room. She tucked herself into the corner of the couch, eyes flitting between her book options until her pulse kicked up again and she opted for the self care one, tossing the blanket over her legs. She got halfway through her chapter by the time she heard someone in the outside hallway, her ears pricking up at the sound. She knew it could be a neighbour, but the book gently lay open in her lap as she looked over the back of the couch toward the door, hope surging through her that it would actually be you.

A tinkling sound echoed through the wood, the lock moving a second later and she couldn’t help the warmth bursting in her chest as you half toppled through the door. Your hands were full, a large Tupperware in one, go bag tossed over your elbow with a plastic bag in the other. You’d obviously changed out of whatever your UC look had been in, leggings and an NYPD tee clinging to your frame, your work issued windbreaker draping from your shoulders.

“Hey, sorry I’m so late.” You started, while kicking off your shoes, crossing to place the items in your hands down on the island, “got caught up at Carisi’s with the girls and ‘Manda. But he did send me on my way with homemade chicken piccata and a bottle of pinot so neither of us can really be mad.”

“It’s alright.” She laughed softly, slipping off the couch to properly greet you.

“I’m just happy Liv wasn’t a drill sergeant about finishing paperwork, I—” You stalled suddenly when you actually looked up at her. Rita felt her heart leap into her throat at the way your eyes widened and for a moment she was scared until a smile burst onto your face, “oh my god, you’re blonde!” Three very quick steps later and you were directly in front of her, your hands combing through her hair as you admired her new look.

“I take it that reaction means you don’t hate it?” She asked timidly and you laughed, your hand cupping her cheek.

“Are you kidding me? You look absolutely gorgeous baby.” Still caressing her face you leant in, pressing a tender kiss to her lips. One that Rita utterly relaxed into, all the jitters in her body melting away at the feeling of your embrace, both incredibly happy to have you home and the relief she hadn’t done something drastic that you despised. You took a moment to hold her close, letting out a soft sigh as you nuzzled your nose against hers before kissing her again. “I missed you.”

“I missed you more, believe me.” She huffed gently, her hands raising to cup your cheeks before they slid down your neck, squeezing at your shoulders.

“I’m sorry I had to go; I know the timing was shit. Last thing I wanted was to leave you on your own.” Your thumb brushed across her cheek and she leaned into the embrace before shaking her head, fingers wrapping around your wrist and turning your hand so she could leave a kiss on your palm.

“You have an important job, I understand. Just the way you do about mine.”

“Mmhm.” You nodded, a soft smile on your cheeks before your hand raised again, continuing to comb through her hair, playing with the ends. “I never thought I’d see you with hair this short. It’s kind of a drastic change.”

Rita chuckled softly, “Liv and I got to talking, she said a drastic change really helped her after everything.” Her gaze drifted to the kitchen island behind you, “that it took some of her control back. She couldn’t change what happened, the things she experienced, but she could control what happened going forward. She mentioned how we’re the ones who make decisions about our bodies, appearances, that we can alter them whenever we want and that can remind us of who’s in charge.”

Your fingers twirled a strand of her hair before trailing down her cheek and curling under her chin, redirecting her gaze to you, “I love that.” You pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, “I didn’t realize you and Liv were hanging out.”

“Darling, Liv and I have been hanging out far longer than you have been a part of her squad.” She teased and you laughed, squeezing at her hand.

“I’m sure.” You reluctantly slipped out of her grasp, “I need to change. I showered at the precinct but I’d much prefer my own clothes.”

“Please tell me you weren’t covered in blood this time.”

“Would it help if I said it wasn’t mine?” You suggested and Rita grimaced, her nose crinkling in the way you adored so much. “If you haven’t eaten, the food should still be hot, if you don’t mind plating it up, cracking that bottle?” You raised an eyebrow toward the island and Rita nodded, a smile on her cheeks as you disappeared down the hallway.

You made it back relatively quick; face now bare of any remaining makeup, Rita’s Harvard shirt and a pair of pyjama shorts covering your body as you returned to the couch. You’d chosen to curl up in her corner, snagging the blanket and picking up her non-fiction, fingering through a few pages before placing it down on the table when she approached.

“Thank you.” You smiled as she passed you a plate of food along with a glass of wine.

“I believe all thanks go to Carisi.” She shot back and you laughed.

The television had some soft jazz playing, the soundtrack Rita preferred when she was reading or working, something comfortable to occupy the space without being overbearing. It was perfect as the accompaniment to your dinner, something calming as you readjusted to real life and Rita welcomed you back into your shared home. She was only slightly worried with how you scarfed down your dinner, her mind wandering, thinking about when your last actual meal had been before she reminded herself that you’d gotten very good at taking care of yourself on these operations over the years. The lectures from your mother were one thing, but when they started coming from your wife it turned out you actually listened.

You placed your now empty plate down on the coffee table, a gentle sigh leaving your lips as you picked up the wine glass, taking a large sip. Resting back into the corner of the couch, your arm laid across the back of it and you looked over at your wife, a small smile on your cheeks.

“What?” She finally asked, finishing her last bite of chicken.

“Nothing.” You shrugged, “just appears your hair wasn’t the only change you made.”

“What do you mean?” Her eyes darted around the living room, thinking she had left something embarrassing out.

“Looks like you hit up a mall or two, the closet is practically all new clothing.”

“Oh..” she chuckled awkwardly, “I guess it is.”

“A lot more neutral colours…” You left the sentence hanging, surveying her for a moment, “cute stuff though. Some of them almost political looking, you change you mind about that?”

“God no.” This time she did let out a laugh, swapping her plate for her wine glass.

“Well they look nice. I’m sure you and Raf had a great time picking them out.”

This time she ducked her gaze, a little huff blowing out of her nose as Rita felt a sense of melancholy sweep through her, “I actually went with Sam.” She glanced up to see your head tilt, your brow furrow.

“Sam?”

“Maroun. Manhattan ADA.”

“Oh! I think I’ve seen her around, works with Price, right?”

Rita nodded, “she’s nice, has a fire to her that reminds me of myself at that age, honestly I think her and Casey would get along wonderfully. But most importantly her fashion sense is fantastic.”

“I’ve heard good things.” You took a sip of wine, “I guess I just never thought you’d find a better shopping partner than Barba.” This time Rita nearly tensed on the couch beside you and your brow furrowed again, “what?”

“About that…”

“Rita… what?”

She sighed heavily, taking a gulp of her drink, “we… aren’t really talking anymore.”

“What?” You felt a little ridiculous repeating yourself again without meaning too, shaking your head as you tried to refocus, “sorry…I just… you guys are best friends, you’ve been through it all.”

“We had a falling out.” She shrugged, “I guess we’re just both too stubborn to see two points of view and that was the demise.”

“Clarify, please?” You raised a brow in her direction, giving her a minute to gather her thoughts. You frowned at the sight of tears building in her eyes, this was clearly more than just a stupid argument or something they both fought on.

“Do you remember the case Ed came to me about? Back in twenty eighteen?”

“Yeah, Ana. She was being charged with some terrorism bullshit despite the fact she was being manipulated into everything and never actually made a shot.”

“Rafael never understood that one. He thought I was being ridiculous, that I must have fucked something up royally and desperately be in need of money.”

“She was a rape victim.”

“I tried to tell him, over and over again. That it didn’t matter she didn’t speak up right away, I didn’t need it on the record. I told him he could at least give me the grace to look me in the eye and agree, that sure, his bosses would tell him to bury it, but we could pretend. I thought it wouldn’t matter because deep down we would both know the truth; Ana wasn’t evil she was a victim.” She took a shuddering breath, “all he said was that he would ‘do his best.’” She scoffed, “all I could think was that he was rolling his eyes over someone who had done something to escape, who only wanted to be free. He didn’t see her, didn’t understand her position, he didn’t want to help her at all. She was a victim… and he didn’t give a shit.”

“Rita…” your hand reached out, squeezing softly at her ankle.

“I wish it ended there, honestly I do. If it was just me being a stubborn bitch we could probably repair things, but it wasn’t.” She sighed, “every time we saw each other that case was just hanging over our heads, we fought instead of just playful bickering. He kept bringing Ana up, how dare I defend someone like her, what good could I possibly have gotten from standing up for her. When he found out I was visiting her regularly, making sure her commissary card was full, he absolutely lost it.”

“And you saw yourself in Ana.” You stated, your hand finding hers along the back of the couch. Rita let out a long breath, nodding.

“I want to say that case was the beginning of the end but I’m sure it started with Abbey’s.”

“Did you ever tell Rafael about what happened to you?”

She groaned, “there were a few offhand comments here and there. Things I hoped he would pick up on, I mean he was the sex crimes ADA for six years for Christ’s sake.” She let out a watery laugh, “Olivia picked up on it, he never did.” Tears began to cloud her eyes once again and for some reason she felt shame burning through her body, “I just wanted him to understand. And before I could, he disappeared. If we’d still been talking I would have been the one to represent him in court, things would have gone magnificently better and maybe he wouldn’t have had to run off to another state to find himself. We iced each other out and honestly it might be for the better, every time we pass each other in the firm hallways he has that look in his eye whenever he sees me. It’s like he can’t decide whether he still hates me or whether to treat me like I’m broken.”

“Rita, I’m so sorry.” You squeezed at her hand, “I had no idea. I wouldn’t have kept inviting him around, I just assumed.”

“It’s okay.” She wiped at her eyes, “it’s probably good we’ve been forced to cohabitate, maybe one day we’ll actually figure things out again.” She let out a long blow of air, focusing on her breathing in order to not let another tear spill over this, she didn’t want to spend much longer thinking about how she’d lost her best friend, how so much had happened that she was sure their relationship would never be the same.

“I hope so.” Your fingers traced across the lines of her palm, “anything else you want to talk about?”

Rita’s eyes flicked up to yours, a nervous look on her face and your head tilted, a small smile on your cheeks, “I’m honestly not sure if you’re going to like it.”

“I’m in support of anything as long as long as it involves us being together.” You replied and she chuckled, taking another deep breath before she spoke, her gaze drifting out the window.

“I.. I think I want to take some time off.”

“Babe, you know I’ve been in support of that. You need to take the time, probably longer than either of us realize, you deserve it after all of this. I mean, what does your therapist say?”

“They agree. But what I’m worried about is that we don’t have the same idea.” She looked up at you and your stomach nearly plummeted,

“Rita…”

“No! No, nothing like that.” She took a heavy breath, “I need to step back from criminal defence. Maybe permanently. I need to refocus on cases that actually mean something, where I know what I’m doing is right, where my client is someone who needs the help, especially if they can’t afford it. I want to work closer with Casey and Alex, do more of what they do.”

“I think that’s fantastic!” You squeezed her hand again, “I mean, you’re going to be amazing wherever you are but you’ll kill it at that.”

Rita smiled softly, “and…if there’s more?”

“What? Did you resign from mom’s firm?”

She sighed, taking another swig of her wine, “no, but I did put in a leave of absence.”

“Oh?” You raised a brow, watching as your wife took a breath, sinking into the couch behind her.

“I didn’t want to. But it was Casey who convinced me into it. Said she had her own issues in the past that she didn’t take the proper time to recover from and it ended up affecting her entire career.”

“Nearly got her disbarred, yeah.” You looked across at her, “so what are you thinking? Remodel the bedroom? Consume yourself with reality tv? Take up CrossFit?”

Rita laughed, though this one was not like any before, it was almost a sad one, her chest tightening as she looked across at you. “Well.. I was thinking…” she started, her heart throbbing in her chest, “that maybe I would check out that new resort in the Alps.”

“Babe,” you chuckled warmly, “I can’t. I used my vacation time already; Benson won’t let me.”

“That’s… why I was thinking about going alone.”

Rita’s words hung heavy in the apartment, the realization washing over both of you. A sense of relief flooding through her veins as she finally let all her thoughts out. Her heart pounded in her throat as she watched your reaction, the slight widening of your eyes before they softened, a small smile on your lips.

“Are you sure?” You asked.

“Unfortunately yes.” She let out a sigh, “darling, believe me I would love nothing better than a couple’s retreat but—”

“You need time alone.” Your hand raised, stopping her, “especially right now. I get it.” Leaning in you kissed her cheek. “You take all the time you need. You’re the love of my life and I would do anything for you, especially if it helps you heal.” You grasped her hand in yours.

“Thank you.”

“Rita… you mean the world to me; I’m not going to be upset if you need time to cope with shit. You’ve had so much happen and I had to disappear right after it was all getting exposed. I didn’t want to take this gig but—”

“You needed to.” She shut you off with a squeeze to your hand, “we both know how our jobs work, that’s part of the deal.”

“Exactly.” Smiling, you leant forward, kissing her softly, “so how about I take you to bed and remind you just how much I love you? Then whenever you’re ready I’ll take you to whatever airport you need to rejuvenate.”

“You would do that for me?” Rita asked, pulling away only an inch and you smiled.

“My love, I would do anything for you.” You shifted on the couch, wrapping your arm around her shoulders and tugging her to you, letting her relax into your side. “Rita, I’ve been head over heels in love with you for eleven years and that’s not changing anytime soon. I made a promise to be there for you no matter what, through thick and thin, for whatever you needed. I’ll miss you like hell, but if what you need is room to breathe and it so happens to be the air of a different continent, then so be it.” You placed a kiss on the top of her head, “I want you to be happy, healthy… at peace. So yes, I’d do that for you, because I know that you would do the same for me.”

“A hiatus is exactly what I need.” She murmured, nuzzling deeper into your embrace.

“I think after all these years you definitely deserve a break from the courtroom. It’ll be really, really good for you.” Your hand came up, toying with her hair, “Alex and Casey both took substantial ones… voluntary or not.” You both laughed, “and they both said they helped a lot. I was with Case for part of hers.”

“I remember. Your mother wouldn’t stop complaining.” She taunted and you rolled your eyes.

“It was crucial for her, especially after everything else she had been through that had bottled up inside, shoved deep down into a box to be ignored. She said she finally felt free again.”

“That’s all I want.” She murmured and you felt a twinge of sadness move through you at the tremor in her voice.

Rita felt trapped; she was trapped even after the verdict coming back in her favour. The darkness of what happened still hanging over her as she tried to move on surrounded by the places and people that held the memories of trauma. A weekend in the Hampton’s had lifted it a little bit but she’d returned to the city and thrown herself directly back into work, burying herself in it like she usually did to avoid dealing with things. Only this time, it wasn’t working. She needed to take a break from the courtroom, have a month or more of not dealing with other lawyers, no more motions or subpoenas, no more spending hours at night going over closing arguments. It was more than just a hair cut and new clothes, it was about reinventing herself, rediscovering how to maneuver through this world. She was more than well aware what her new wardrobe represented, what she wanted to present herself as when she made a return. She was still Rita Calhoun, she would forever be a shark in the courtroom and would always make the best fight for her clients, get them what they deserved. But she didn’t want to pull the amount of attention that she used to, wanted to be able to drift through courthouse halls without all the head turning and whispers. She had a new lease on life and she was planning on taking full advantage of it, not letting another second go by wasted or clinging onto the past.

Which is why two weeks later you were walking her up to security at JFK, a slightly tearful see you soon, but one that you were nudging her in the right direction. After all, you would be right there to greet her the moment she got back and you were there every single moment onward. You were each other’s rocks, bound together by the love and life you had created, as you were meant to be. You knew that no matter what, you could get through anything life through at you, because you had each other.

___________

If you dont interact with the fic you will be taken off the taglist.

___________

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[jackbugz]

a look into my evil and twisted mind

[thathomestar]

played through the black mesa blue shift mod, up through the xen chapter since that's all they've released so far. the mod aims to remake the entirety of blue shift in the style of black mesa, and boy howdy does it deliver on that, for better and for worse.

they actually establish a couple supporting characters, more security guards and scientists, which is nice. in the original game it was basically just dr rosenberg, so more named characters is a good change imo. feels like you're actually rallying people together to fight your way out of black mesa.

a weird thing this mod does is take away player control sometimes. i can understand it for specific sequences, like when the elevator crashes at the beginning or when you first teleport into xen, but it also does it for some mundane things too, like inserting a keycard into a switch. why? half-life's whole thing is letting the player be in control the whole time.

the first few chapters are well paced, but it starts feeling like its padding a bit when you go off to find dr rosenberg. you have to do this whole song and dance moving a train back and forth and turning it around properly on turntables to bust him out. they could have cut out some of the tedium there a little.

my problems really start when it comes to the xen chapter. the original blue shift xen chapter lasts for roughly 30-40 minutes for a first time player, though someone like me was able to speed through it in under 15. with the black mesa mod, they have stretched out the runtime of this chapter to 3 hours.

it starts off pretty strong, you're making your way through xen, taking in the sights and finding all the stuff the previous science teams have left behind. about 90 minutes in i was wondering when i'm gonna get to the focal point relay thing, the whole reason calhoun goes to xen in the first place.

but instead you keep detouring through black mesa outposts and alien factory things and it just gets so long in the tooth. it'd be one thing if you get to one of these places and you're there for 5-10 minutes at most, but you typically spend over 20, sometimes even 30 minutes at these places.

there's one bit where you inexplicably decide to jump on the back of one of the giant flying manta rays and it flies around for like 15 minutes like an autoscroller section until it gets shot down by alien railguns, and then you spend 30 minutes making your way over to and destroying the railguns. and the whole time i'm just like... when are we getting to the focal point thing.

so finally you get to the focal point relay and turn it on but it gets jammed by a signal so you spend another 40 minutes blazing through ANOTHER alien factory so you can blow it up and you make your way back to the focal point thing and the portal's open but alien controllers keep telekinetically grabbing you and yanking you away from it... and it's just so exhausting. i got burned out.

not to mention the weirdness with how they handle vortigaunts. so in black mesa they do this whole thing in xen to show that the vorts are slaves and don't actually want to fight you, but calhoun never encounters any of that stuff. for the first 2/3rds of xen in this mod, vortigaunts are constantly trying to kill you non-stop. then all of a sudden they don't attack you anymore. why? because i, the player know they're not really bad? why would calhoun know that? it doesn't really make sense to me.

xen is cool. i like xen. if you told me "we're adding more xen to blue shift" i'd be like alright that's cool. but 6-8 times more? that's way too much. xen in blue shift was never meant to be a long trip. calhoun was supposed to get in, find the focal point relay, align it, and leave, not go on a grand alien gallivanting adventure. that's for gordon to do.