#even if their old tech is still perfectly functional

[uncle-fruity]

The unsettling thing about smart appliances is that the companies can control them. Or update the app so older "smart" appliances are no longer supported and will need to be upgraded to new, "smarter" appliances. Not to mention what happens when the internet is down. I mean, the fact that you have to have internet at all! It's hostile towards poor folks who might not want to spend money on something that's free at their local library, but who still need a place to keep their food cold. It's hostile towards anyone who doesn't want to buy a smartphone or download a billion apps. Are they going to pay me for the storage space they're forcing me to use on my device? Definitely not. Or, as we're already seeing with some printers: the "smart" application is to make it impossible to use a competitor's ink once you're low. So if you don't like their ink or if you find ink that's cheaper, well...fuck you! Fuck you, and pay them money to do it. Idk, I'm just saying that adding apps & shit to appliances that demonstratively *do not need them* should either have an alternative not-smart option or should be outright illegal.

I am not anti-technology, either. Like, I don't tend to keep up with the trends, and I super don't *care* about a lot of the technology that comes out (I don't find much of the new stuff to do anything of consequence aside from complicating problems we've already solved (and the stuff that IS of consequence gets so little attention)), but in general I think technology has a place in the world & makes things easier/more convenient in many ways. However, I feel that we are misusing precious fucking resources for the likes of corporate greed and individual comforts that were not asked for and are not needed. I think the people supplying the technology are fucking power-hungry goons who wouldn't hesitate to set their grandmas on fire if it would save them a buck or if her ashes turned to data by the end of it.

In short, it's not that new stuff is bad, it's just that new stuff isn't by default *better* than older models, and tbh we all need to complain as loudly as we can against these corporate chucklefucks. Make everyone involved in the process hate "smart" appliances as much as we do for how ferociously we voice our hatred and how much we complain & demand alternative options. Tbh, we probably need to do a big protest and shut down of a major company to show that the people Do Not Want these "innovations" and the companies had better fucking do something about it.

Please, kids, listen to me: it's not because we hate technology; it's not because we hate you; it's not because we can't cope with the changing times -- it's that we SEE the changes that you never saw because you're growing up in a "smart" world and so it's automatically normalized for you, and that's a dangerous precedent. These appliances are sinister and do not do anything better than the old-ass "dumb" appliances. You are trading your privacy for Nothing. For Whistles and Bells. For things that Do Not Matter.

[tanoraqui]

In Which Space Orcs are Men

[AO3] A "what if humans are space orcs" take on Dagor Dagorath. (Aka the prophecied apocalypse of Middle Earth. Scifi story accessible to non-LotR nerds!)

Elves weren't really supposed to leave Earth. That's what they told us—the Elves, that is, told people thousands of years ago, when Elves could still be found here and there. When I was born, elves were nearly as much a fairy tale as they’d been on Ancient Earth.

Elves weren't supposed to leave Earth, the Elves said in the fairy tales, and in a few old scraps of records scattered around known space. They literally weren't made for it. They could only do it if they brought Earth with them—Arda they called it, leaves or dirt, water or a rare bubble of air, perfectly preserved in a white crystal. There are tons of tales about Elves losing their lifeline jewels—their hearts, their silimirs—and roping people into epic quests to get them back before they—the Elf—faded to nothingness. 

Even the jewels weren't enough, though. That's why there are also stories about Elves who fell in love with a person or a place and stayed there until they faded, or Elves who charmed someone into following them back to Fairyland on Earth...because whatever they said, Elves didn't really live on Earth. Humans have maintained their home planet as a monitored nature reserve since like the 40th century, open only to vetted research teams and serious Human religious pilgrimages. The most confirmed accounts of Elves that exist are of their ships appearing out of nowhere, with no trace of any tech that would enable it, at random, always-changing points within 100 miles or so of Earth.

Nobody ever came back from trying to follow Elves home. Mostly Elves tried to dissuade people from trying. But there are always crazy and curious people—and Elves usually attracted those, because any Elf who left the home they were "made" for was usually crazy and curious themselves. 

Those were the stories I grew up with. There was a cave near the orphans' creche which was supposed to be haunted by a faded Elf. I didn't really believe it—like I said, the last confirmed Elf was last seen like 5,000 years ago, and not even on my planet. People have met two dozen new sentient races since then. We've discovered that reincarnation is probably real (just functionally untrackable), prompting the Pan-Religious Reform Wars. The last person to see a live Elf was still traveling via natural wormholes—they literally didn't know that you could loop pi.

.

When the Human natal sun started to turn really red, it wasn’t that big a deal at first. It’s a very important, very sad event for any species, but it happens to everyone eventually. It happened to the Hectort just after we invented interstellar flight. There were some unusual gravatic waves around Earth’s Sol, but nothing worth noting to anyone who didn’t already care for personal reasons.

Then the Elves sent us a message.

The local Parks Service picked it up, of course. I bet the Humans meant to hush it up at first—though the Centaurian government still won’t admit anything—but someone leaked it immediately on the intergalactic net. It should’ve only been famous as a joke of a hoax, but…

It was basically just a metal box with rudimentary fire-thrusters soldered on the sides. It contained two things. The first was a recording/replaying device so antiquated that the only way they got it working is that it was already playing on loop, and didn’t stop until someone disconnected it from its power source.

The message was in Ancient Bouban, which some folklorist soon announced is the latest language an Elf could know, since the last known Elf went back to “Arda.” The voice somehow sounded melodic to every species with a concept of music, from the screeching Vesarians to the deep-sea sub-sonic Thinkers, even when translated through cheap, staticky speakers. And to most species, the speaker was audibly distraught.

They said,

This is the final message from the Firstborn of Eru to the Secondborn, and everyone else. The Battle of Battles has come, and we…are losing. If there are any who remember the ancient love and loyalty which bound our peoples, if there are any heirs remaining of Thargalax the Magnificent, of Nine-Fingered Frodo, of the noble Houses of Haleth, Hador and Beor—

The speaker drew a sharp breath, there.

—by great oaths and greater friendship I bid you now to raise your swords and ride to our aid. Ride as swiftly as you can!

We will hold for another year. We will, they said determinedly. After that, it is unlikely that…

Another, shakier breath. A smile forced into a voice which would rather weep.

Fëanáro and Nienna believe there is a way to destroy the Straight Road. If we must, if it comes to it, we will do so, and trap the First Enemy here in this dying world with us. Though I don’t know about—

Hair-aristocrat! a more distant, slightly less perfectly melodious voice called, in a language so dead that they needed computers to decode it. The walls are falling, we need to go!

If you never hear from us again, and no sudden discord arises among you, you will know we succeeded, the first speaker said quickly. If otherwise…I am sorry. Either way, I bid you all only, remember us! Oh beautiful flames, remember us, as we have ever remembered y— 

There was a sudden screech of tearing metal, a defiant, musical battle-cry, and a jarring silence. Then the message restarted.

And that wasn’t even the strangest thing in the box. The strangest thing was the recorder’s power source, which was powering the whole tiny rocket mechanism as well. It was an Elf-jewel right out of a fairy tale, a fist-sized, translucent not-quite-diamond—but instead of rock or water or a much-loved scrap of plant, the only thing it held was light.

...Kind of. It isn’t normal light. It arguably isn’t light at all, as we know it—scientists now think it’s technically some sort of plasmoid aether, except it only acts like a plasmoid aether about half the time. 

It has no detectable source within the jewel. It fully illuminates whatever space it’s in, no matter how big. Its visible radiation is a frequency, the scientists say, that matches a hyper-accelerated version of what the universe must’ve sounded like in the split second after the Big Bang.

It makes people remember things, when they see it in person or sometimes even across a holo. Some remember a similar light in a strange traveler’s eyes. Others, dreamily enchanted valleys where spring never faded, or tall castles, bright swords, and stern and glorious lords and ladies. And some of us got hit with a whole lifetime of memories in one go: an identical gem on the brow of a sober forest king, friends who slipped through trees like shadows save for their merry laughter, an impossibly beautiful gold-haired maiden dancing in a glittering cavern...

(And all the pain and loss that came with them.)

And some people just remember the sight of a distant star—in another world, in another lifetime.

Reincarnation was provable but untraceable…until now. 

The Thinker ambassador on Astrolax Station 5 was the first to kick up a fuss. Most Thinkers never leave their home planet, they're too huge and aquatic. But like I said, there's always crazy and curious people. The ambassador started bellowing the second che heard the message, without even seeing the light, because, "I know him! My Wisdom! We must send aid!" That made some news, and random other people shared their own, less dramatic revelations, and soon a compilation swept the net with timestamps showing that most of them were organically independent, not just jumping on the bandwagon….

Even that might've gotten written off intergalactically. The Thinkers are big in reincarnationist circles, on account of how they claim that deep in their planetary ocean they can hear echoes of their past lives. But being mostly planet-bound means they're not really influential on a big political level. Or it would've sparked another surge of the Reform Wars, and everybody would've remembered the rock, but not the recording. Or there would’ve been a fight over this potentially infinite energy source (though that is so last giga-annum)….

But first it was shown in person to the current Director of the Admiralty of the Astral Alliance, President of the X-ee Empire and Matron of the House of S,sh, Ch’ees/i’i S,sh. I was actually there—I was Captain of her ceremonial Alliance guards, in a last-ditch attempt to salvage my career after Zanzibus. Very ceremonial, considering the X-eee have laser-proof shells and pincers and I have, what, opposable thumbs? Vestigial tusks?

I wasn’t paying attention at first, too busy being suddenly assaulted by all my own memories. So I missed the President freezing mid-step and gasping (in X-eee), “Mother.” I also missed her rising alarm call of an attempt to speak Ancient Elvish without an Elvish tongue or lips.

I sure didn’t miss her snap back to X-eee for a sharp call to attention, and everything that followed: the call to arms! The rousing of the Alliance! A tour of the galaxy, to find anyone and everyone else in whom the Light could awaken ancient memories! And for the love of X'eeh, why had nobody figured out how to get back to Fairyland with this thing yet, and every warship in the quadrant?!

If I believed in the One Behind, or in any other creator god or gods—I'm not saying I do, but if I did, if there really is something out there all-powerful and all-kind—then it'd be because out of every soul in the entire universe, the probably one in the best position to act on the Elves' message turned out to have, from a past life, two parents and a much-loved twin still in Fairyland. Like, that's insane, right?

I stayed with the Director's ceremonial guards for the whole tour, actually more than ceremonial for once—it was the weirdest mission of my life, and I've been on a lot of weird missions. Or supposedly routine missions that got weird (and usually disastrous). My friends joke that I'm cursed. S,sh requisitioned an Inquiry-class ship, so the science boffins could study the Light and jewel along the way, and we started wormholing at weft speed, hitting a new planet every week. Sometimes every day. In each major spaceport and ground-city, S,sh stood with the jewel on the highest available point and gave a recruitment speech for going to save the Elves and fight the oldest enemy of all reality. 

Honestly, it seemed a little redundant? The Astral Alliance was made for this sort of rescue mission (and for escorting trade convoys). But I was...if not happy, then sure as hell more self-certain with my ancient memories restored, and most people who joined up seemed to agree. It was mostly people who remembered, when exposed to the Light, who joined—so before long, we had a whole tag-along trail of mostly civilian ships, trying to get up to Alliance Fleet standard on the road in less than a year.

Three different religious sects tried to kill S,sh for "profaning the mysteries." Five others tried to steal the jewel because we were apparently appropriating a holy object. The boffins announced that, bar the can't-prove-a-negative possibility, the evidently sourceless Light should be counted as an infinite energy source, and at least seven different groups, ruthless financiers and sustainability idealists, immediately tried to steal it for that. And I still don't know what the rival thief-queens of Likkiliani were about, except that I got tied up upside-down from a palmdar tree for two hours trying to stop one, the other paid me 700 cron then threw me off a cliff, and in the end they recognized each other from past lives and just made out on worldwide live-holo before joining our growing fleet. 

It turned out they were the Director's past life's great-grandparents, and a Canid pop princess was her niece. The Thinker ambassador was some sort of ancestor, too. Crazy extended family. 

Most people who remember just remember the sight of a star in the sky. A buddy of mine from Fleet Academy remembered looking up at it as a Human sailor. The historians—and you’d better bet we picked up some Earther historians on this mission as well!—say this jewel or one like it was probably astrologically conflated with the planet Venus by early Humans.

(The more time I spent around the jewel, the Silmaril, the more I remembered, of my first life and more. Lifetime after lifetime with bad luck dogging my steps, killing loved ones in my arms, destroying cities I was supposed to save… One restless, haunted night, I met a Rigilic in the cafeteria who’d been awake with some of the same nightmares, who’d been my dead older sister once.)

The tour was cut short when word came from the Earth system that there was a black hole growing in the center of their reddening sun. 

No, the sun wasn’t compressing into a black hole millennia ahead of schedule—one had just spontaneously manifested within it, like it’d teleported in. No, not literally—that was impossible. We were pretty sure. No, the sun wasn’t falling into it…somehow. Yet. The black hole was only 17 quectometers wide, but it was growing at an erratic but unceasing rate. If their best estimation of the pattern held, it would consume the sun 2 months before the Elves’ deadline, and the Earth 4 to 950 minutes later.

We pulled back to Earth—well, to the dwarf planet Eros, on the edges of Earth’s star system. That’s where the nearest shipyard of any note was, and we were gathering the whole Astral Alliance. This is exactly the sort of thing the Alliance is for. 

I was released back to ship duty. Zanzibus was still a black mark on my record, as was Jorab, and really everything on the AAS Endeavor…and that thing in third year of Fleet Academy… But no matter how bad my curse, I was an experienced captain and one of the best pilots in the Alliance. For this, we needed all the best.

The boffins had pretty quickly mastered limited manipulation of the Light, using modified aetheric resonators, and every day they came up with something new for us to test. They focused the Light into a laser cannon like no one has seen before. They laced it through plasma shields until a fully shielded ship glowed like a distant star. They managed to nearly replicate the Silmaril’s crystalline structure, so they could make “copies” that shone like the original for first a few hours; then, with refinement, a full week…

The one thing they couldn’t pin down with any real confidence was how to get to Fairyland. The frequency of the Light resonated with large bodies of Earther saltwater in a particular way, and models suggested that if the Light source moved horizontally along the water within a certain range of distance and velocity, the resonance would create a wormhole-like ripple in space—but wormhole-like, was the key word, and models suggested. The closest anyone had seen to that spatial distortion was in a logbook of dubious veracity from the Delta Quadrant, four hundred years ago. Alteia, my Academy buddy who’d been a Human sailor, took the Silmaril in an M-wing on a series of highly monitored test flights above the Atlantic Ocean, and space did repeatedly start to hollow in front of bom—so bo had to stop every time, rather than risk vanishing with our single, maybe-one-way ticket.

Then Earth’s moon stopped shining in the sky. Its albedo just dropped nearly to zero, from one night to the next. There was nothing wrong that anyone could figure out—nothing with the orbit, nothing with the surface rock, nothing with the artificial atmosphere. Inhabitants reported feeling colder by several degrees, but no measuring equipment recorded anything.

The black hole slightly off-center in the middle of Sol was now 844.9 zeptometers, and growing more steadily.

We didn’t have time to keep testing. We needed to raise our swords and make our ride, even if we only got one shot at it.

I was given command, for seniority, skill, and because I was the one who managed to talk S,sh out of leading the fleet herself. (If my lives had taught me anything, it was the importance of having someone, anyone, ready to be emergency backup.) Ironically, I was back on the Endeavor, with most of my old crew—though we got permission to rename the ship, in honor of the mission. A lot of people did. Alteia was now commanding the AAS Elendil on my right flank, star-friend in Ancient Elvish. That Canid pop princess had taken over a hospital ship and renamed it Rivendell. An Earth Park Ranger, of all things, remembered being my dad—briefly—and he was leading the Rangers plus my Rigilic drinking buddy on the EPSS Elfsheen. 

We weren’t sure if any ship but the one with the Silmaril would get through. The fleet numbered in the hundreds in battleships alone, not counting scouts and scuttlers. Twelve races had sent ships on top of their typical Alliance Fleet tithe, and S,sh had brought about half the full force of the X-ee Empire. We all just locked tractor beams and hoped. 

I was piloting as well as captaining, with the Silmaril between my forehorns. It was held in place by about a dozen wires and other connectors to the ship, like an old-timey pilot’s headset. We took off in orbit around Earth, as close as possible to the surface—not very close, in warships of Class S and higher, but within range of the oceanic resonance. A Likkilianian thief-queen stood at my shoulder, ready to advise if anything “Musical” started to happen.

Think about what you’re trying to get to, and why, the boffins had advised, so I did—bright-eyed kings and dancing maidens; lost friends, families, cities, planets and all. The jewel got warmer against my skin and shone brighter with every pulse of the engine, brighter than we should’ve been able to see through.

The silver-gold Light twisted and diffused as space did around us. But there was no familiar rippling wormhole boundary—instead, spacetime thinned to a curtain like driving rain, like Vesarian silver-glass.

A ghost appeared next to me. She looked like the oldest, grumpiest writing teacher at the crèche, though I knew that was only in my head.

“There you are,” she said, impatient and relieved like I’d been hiding in the sandbox again, rather than coming to class on time. Her sewing scissors went snip snip snip as she darted them around my body—and a chain on my soul faded into guiding threads.

Before she’d even disappeared again, I punched the engine and blasted through the silver-glass curtain.

Fairy tales said there’d be a peerlessly beautiful land on the other side, green with eternal spring, full of endless light and laughter. They said there’d be sunlit shores and shimmering waves, with welcoming docks for sea-ships, sky-ships and space-ships all…

We flew into the worst battlefield I’d ever seen, in any lifetime. It was more desperately vicious than Jerusalem V at the height of the Reform Wars, more ruined than Glaurung’s wake, more desolate than Zanzibus after the nuclears fell.

Either a massive supercontinent or a small moon had been shattered, leaving nothing but a roiling debris field. The brand-new meteoroids ranged from pebbles to rocks the size of a small space station, and included space-frozen corpses, forests, and what might have once been city blocks.

I gave the helm back to my Pilot Officer—zer had, I can admit, slightly better reflexes for dodging debris—and focused on captaining.

Most of the life signs were clinging to the larger rocks. There shouldn’t have been atmosphere for them, but walls of thunderstorm wrapped around every shard with even a single life sign—wind and water desperately hand in hand to safeguard the last of the Elves. The only thing visible through the impossible storms was the Light of a second Silmaril, on a meteoroid shaped like half a broken eggshell.

A corpse lay at the epicenter of the explosion—what might’ve been a corpse, if it wasn’t also shattered. The broken pieces of a massive stone humanoid, taller than my ship if it’d stood beside her, still bleeding lava so hot that it burned even in frozen space. Another titan knelt at the shards of its head, a figure of towering bark and leaves, wailing with grief even worse than the end of the world. 

A slimmer tree-woman stood with one hand on her shoulder, comforting, and the other wielding a skyscraper-sized club spiked with incandescent wildflowers. Guarding her sister’s heartbreak, she fended off a swarm of bat-sized monsters with wings of darkness and whips of flame. 

Bat-sized relative to the gods of Elves and ancient Humans. About the size of an M-wing, in flight.

Countless more of the bat-things flung themselves at the storm-bubbles, like carnivores chasing the prey hidden inside. They were fended off by an equal army of creatures with wings of light and swords of lightning, led by a towering figure who seemed to dance from one bloody battle to the next.

The biggest battle by far was the farthest away, over where the sun had been. In this dimension of stories over science, Sol was another woman-shape, smaller than the others but burning just as brightly as her star. Also just as blood-red. The light was centered on a fist she kept clenched at her chest, and instead of containing the black hole, the unseeable thing that it was here surrounded her, striking at her with a thousand hungry jaws and grasping legs, and she had only a one-handed whip of a solar flare to fend it off—

But she didn’t fight alone. A warrior tore at the Darkness’s spidery limbs with his fists, image on the cameras flickering impossibly between every hero I’d ever heard of. A snarling figure bit at it with jagged teeth, gored it with horns, shredded it with claws and talons, and generally made every ancient prey-instinct in me scream. And a queen with a crown of stars, a shield like the night sky and a sword like a streaking comet, stood dauntlessly at the sun-holder’s side. 

With all that, and with the speed of even her most exhausted strikes, I thought the sun-holder could probably have gotten away if she’d tried. But I knew how a person fought when they weren’t willing to leave a friend, and a smaller, silver figure lay at her feet, unmoving and drained of light.

But even the battle for the sun wasn’t what grabbed my eye. No—all my attention, all my guiding threads of fate and the quick temper that always used to get me in trouble, before (and sometimes after) I learned to leash it in an Alliance uniform— All of that took me straight to the fight happening orthogonal to the stone giant’s corpse.

It was another one-versus-many. Morgoth, the First Enemy of Elves and Men— Master of Lies, Maker of Chains, Sonofabitch Curser of Bloodlines—towered over even his fellow gods. His shape changed constantly, sickeningly, but it was always black-armored with eyes like dying stars that hated you personally. His maul dripped with lava and every other kind of blood.

He fought against three great gray figures who moved as one. The tallest wielded a star-studded scythe with swift, efficient strokes, and wore the dark gray of corpse-shrouds. The shortest shimmered with more colors than even a Stamotapadon could dream of, and his weapon shifted likewise. The third was the clear, clean gray of skies after rain or tears run dry, and fought with only a shield—and hit harder with it than either of her brothers.

Around their heads darted the only Elves on the battlefield, in small fliers more like sea-ships than aircraft. But they moved fluidly, pestering the Dark Lord like flies, pricking his skin and threatening his burning eyes.

Until Morgoth swung his maul with a roar of fury that traveled even though soundless space. My ship and heart both shuddered. The gray gods all staggered back, and the Elves fell from the no-longer-sky—all but their leader, more fire than flesh, who wore the third Silmaril. Morgoth caught him in one massive black hand and with sharp claws plucked the jewel away, as easily as a ripe berry from a tree—

“All power to fore-cannon and fire,” I ordered—and the jewel on my brow shone bright again as several stored months’ worth of infinite Silmaril-Light slammed into Morgoth’s chest with all the force that the best scientists in the Astral Alliance could engineer. 

He stumbled. He dropped both the jewel and the elf-king (who’d been trying to bite him). The Lady of Mercy tossed her shield to catch them, staying low and out of sight—though she needn’t have bothered. The so-called “Lord of All” had already found his next enemy.

“All ships, move forward and join shields,” I ordered, and met his burning stare though the viewscreen. “Then broadcast me on all external frequencies.”

The wires on my forehead shimmered as we shifted Light-flow to the shields—and to my right, so did the Elendil, and to my left, the Cosmian Blade, and all around us the Minas Tirith, the Elfsheen, the Muse, the Rivendell, the Heart of Zanzi, the Longbottom Leaf… They were still soaring out of the silvery distortion behind me, tractor- and Silmaril-towed: sleek Rigilic eels-of-prey and Centaurian cruisers full of Humans eager to fight for their homeworld, Betan mine-ships and Canid X-M-wings and my own Hectoan starlighters, a full third of the X-ee navy with their X-eee–shaped six-engine dreadnoughts, and hundreds more. 

“This is Captain Pel Cinia, once Túrin Turambar, of the Astral Alliance ship Gurthang,” I said. My words were broadcast from every ship on every frequency in every language that the people of Arda might know, as the Fleet assembled from forty-plus different worlds flew into position. Our Light-infused shields blazed and locked together, until we formed a seamless wall right in the Enemy’s face, with the Elves and their other allies safely behind us.

I’ve never felt more proud to recite the most cliché line in the Fleet:

“We got your distress call. We’re here to help.”

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 25: love letters

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

A small disclaimer: I tried my best to proofread the letters but I hope you can forgive any mistakes, if there are. I had a lot of fun planning this one, I hope you like it!

“Why do we have so much trash, Mom?” your teenage daughter asked, watching you close the third jumbo-sized black bag filled with things you clearly no longer needed.

You two were putting away the necessary things for the move the following week and, taking advantage of the occasion, you were getting rid of things you no longer needed and putting some others in boxes to donate to some institution. Michelle wasn't too excited about the idea of cleaning, like any teenager, but at that point she wasn't even helping you anymore and was just sitting near you, playing with anything interesting she found and keeping you entertained with her chatter.

“Over the years you accumulate things because you think they will be useful for later, but in reality they aren’t and they just become a pile of useless things” you laughed “And when they can be you forget that you have them saved and you buy a new one”

“Do you think Dad will buy me that closet I want for my birthday?”

“It will depend on your grades and how well you behave,” you murmured, as you always responded whenever she asked both of you for something. She knew it was easier to bend her father to her whims, but you made sure to remind Spencer that discipline was necessary too.

“What does that box have inside?” she asked and you had to lift your head from where she was standing to look at which box she was referring to.

A smile escaped you when you noticed that she had found your old, unpainted metal box that had once stored sweets but now fulfilled other functions, the one that you kept in a dresser drawer but that with so much movement had ended up on one of your husband's stacks of books.

“Open it and find out”

Your daughter did as you asked, removing the lid with some trepidation as if a poisonous animal was going to jump out.

“Letters?”

“These are all the letters your father has written to me,” you responded proudly. The package was quite sizeable and had everything from envelopes to poorly cut pieces of paper that Spencer would slip into your pocket from time to time.

“Letters?” she repeated, sounding quite confused. “That's like the Middle Ages. Did you guys not have cell phones or what?”

“Letters are still used today, miss Tech,” you scolded her, pointing an accusing finger at her. “But your dad has never been a fan of text messages, and when we met I was working as a clerk in a library that your dad frequented. We would talk from time to time and he would leave me pieces of paper among the books he handed out so that I could read them. Almost all of them were his opinion of the books, but at some point it was his way of flirting with me. This one, for example, was for our first date… see?”

You gave your daughter a folded brown sheet of paper, from which she read the following:

“How cheesy!” she complained, after reading the words of the man who would later become your husband, although you knew she probably didn't mean it. “And what did you say to him?”

“Well, I told him yes, it's obvious. "It seemed very sweet to me, at our age no one did that kind of thing anymore."

“But there are many letters here.”

“Oh, yes, your dad traveled a lot when he still worked at the BAU and although we talked on the phone he made sure to write me a letter every time he missed me, which was almost every time” you laughed, remembering with nostalgia your courtship “He says that writing helps him think about things better. There are several good ones, to tell the truth”

You searched through the box for a letter that was decent enough for the teenager to read, feeling her gaze at all times. Finally you extended it to her, one made of beige paper and the same crooked handwriting that the two of you knew perfectly well.

“And it didn't scare you?” she asked, frowning slightly “You know, that it was so… that he sounded so in love.”

“Oh, I was too, daughter,” you answered honestly. “Although not all of them were equally romantic, there are some that are sillier. Like that one here, look at this”

“Was my dad always as nerdy as he is now? With that curious data and statistics”

“He was much more so,” you laughed. Your daughter opened her eyes wide, as if she didn't believe it.

“And you still married him?”

“Are you guys talking about me?” a voice spoke from the door, making both of you jump. Spencer had just finished his class hours and you didn't know why you hadn't even heard him open the door, but there he was now.

“I was showing Mich the letters you gave me,” you explained and he nodded softly, realizing this from the box resting on your daughter's lap.

“Do you still have them?” he asked, an almost imperceptible blush on his cheeks, as he sat on the bed next to you.

“Of course, why would I get rid of them?”

With care and love you reached up to the back of your husband's neck and then pulled him to you in a soft kiss that took him by surprise, but which he didn’t refuse.

“Ugh! You are disgusting!” Michelle squealed from the other side, forcing you to break away from the laughter that had overcome you.

“You won't say that when you have a boyfriend.”

"What are you talking about? She'll never have a boyfriend," Spencer added, as he always responded at the mention of it. "We're going to put her in a nunnery, don't you remember?"

"Daddy!" she complained, pretending to be upset, but with a smile giving away that she wasn't.

The man left his place to walk over to your daughter and lean towards her, trying to place a kiss on her forehead while he struggled with all her complaints and kicks. But in the end she always gave in, just like he did with her. They were each other's weakness.

“Go and take a shower and if you have homework, finish it. We’re going to order a pizza."

Your daughter gave a celebratory expression and left the room in a hurry, to fulfill what he had told her and also to get rid of the possibility of you asking her to do the cleaning that she hadn’t done during the afternoon.

"How was your day?"

“Everything normal,” he smiled, reaching out to take one of the old envelopes you had in the box, and with that you two seemed to be remembering the same time: the passionate and youthful love you had. “I hope she hasn't read the more inappropriate”

“No, I keep those just for myself,” you replied, winking at him playfully.

The next morning Spencer had classes early, so he left almost after breakfast. You didn't realize that he had left a note on the table until much later and when you found it you couldn't help but smile like a fool.

taglist: @navs-bhat@reidwritings@tricia-shifting14@spencerslove@vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1@sdddoobydoobydoo@taintedstranger @missabsey

[threepandas]

The Vod's List: Part 3

The Separatist Army tries invade the Techganic homeworld and DIES SCREAMING.

I... I am cackling like a broken laugh 'track, in a low Senatorial staff seating area. Pretty sure everyone thinks I've lost my chips. But... BUT THEY DON'T GET IT! It's so FUNNY!? Oh Bones and Blood! Oh karking STARS!!! Of all the kriffing PLANETS to PHYSICALLY INVADE with DROIDS!!!

DROIDS!

I am wheezing. Gasping for air. Slowly tipping out of my chair as I all but seize silently in spasms of sheer, incredulous, amusement. Oh Stars, I'm gonna die. My gut is on fire and I DONT CARE. Droids! Just... just DROPPED UM right into the capitals like "here ya go! Surrender flesh bags!"

Pfffahahahahaha!

I finally slip, only for a gloved hand to catch my shoulder gently, keeping me from crashing to the floor. A calculated step and lift, brings my shoulder to brace against the side of familiar armor. A guard. I manage to glance up through my incoherent laughing fit. I know that armor!

"Fox!" I grin, glad I am starting to be able to tell the gaurds apart. It always felt rude to have to keep asking their names, even when I by all rights SHOULD already know them. "Good morning."

"Ma'am." He nods. I still don't get why people think they're 'emotionless'. Even through the voicecoder, his voice is warm. "Funny joke?"

"The Separatists invaded my planet." I laugh. At his questioning head tilt, I grin MEANLY from behind my mask. "Remember how we met? And you got infected? EVERYONE on my planet is some version of carrier, either Organic or Technological. Depending on where those droids land? They are either FOOD or free scrap metal. The Collective will EAT them. And folks back home?"

I glanced around, trying to find the room's cameras. Fox casually pointed before stepping between it's line of sight and me. Kriff he was so cool. I grabbed one of the old datapads I was supposed to dump in the recycler after my break. No one would miss if I threw one in the biohazard shoot instead... probably.

I turned it on. Showing it worked. A perfectly functioning, if old, datapad. Then? I listened to that old, old, OLD instinct in the back of my head that karking HATED technology. That honestly would be happier living in a stone shack on a distant moon, surrounded by growth. That could, at a glance, pick apart any given peice of technology's weak points.

Not to slice it. Or IMPROVE it. But to BREAK it. Irreparably.

My eyes found the weak point in the screen almost immediately. A point where fingers had worn it thin. Smack! I cracked it against the table, like an animal trying to open trying to open a nut. It cracked. And that was all I needed. All ANY of us would ever need, really.

Just One Little Crack.

I pulled off my mask, knowing my face was probably doing that... THING. That "super intent Murder Hunter" thing that we all do, when our instincts engage. But I wanted to show Fox. I trusted him. So I flexed my jaw and thought of the lift, of how me met, the STRESS. Just enough to get a bit of drool.

Then... I let it drop onto the screen.

The reaction, was of course, IMMEDIATE.

The datapad hissed and squealed, screen glitching violently. I carefully put it down, familiar with what was about to happen. Fox... was not. He watched. Frozen. Entranced. As the datapad burned and melted from within. Was CONSUMED. As my nanites wrecked hell in their final moments before dying, no longer supported by my body. Some of course, simply falling dormant.

Those were the lethal ones. The trap for future Collective members trying to reclaim tech. It's why all infected materials had to be treated as a biohazard. Those nanites stayed viable for upwards of a century AT LEAST. Several, in the right condition.

So droids? Ha! We were BIOENGINEERED to fight "droids"! We WERE the original GAR. What was that Human saying? "Nothing new in the Galaxy?" That.

Fox was taking even, measured, breaths. Clenching and unclenching his hand. His voice sounded... strained, as he agreed. That, yes. We WERE very, VERY alike. And that that was FASCINATING. Could his spit do that now too?

I... didn't know. Huh.

I blinked. First up at him. Then down at the 'pad. I hadn't considered that. Kriff. Well THAT was irresponsible of me. Yeah, yeah we should probably schedule some Techganic 101 lessons, shouldn't we? Since... you know, assuming you SURVIVE infection and first "heal"? It's kinda a one and done sort of thing.

You can't get... double infected? It very much IS a you ARE or you AREN'T a carrier. And even THEN... one of two kinds, which CAN NOT peacefully coexist.

Plus... since it's adapted to the Guards biology, a spread would be SUPER easy?

.........I..... I SHOULD tell someone.

But what would happen to Fox? I'm not blind. People aren't exactly... KIND to Clones. Would they decide its just easier to get rid of him? My gut say probably. Experience says likely. I've barely even STARTED working at the Senate and... well...

Maybe I should keep my mouth shut. WE should keep our mouth shut.

"This time, I'll be the one looking out for YOU, kay Fox?"

"Of course. I'll leave my self in your capable hands. I have no doubt... I'll learn A LOT."

There is something intent about the way he stands, the way he's bracketing me into my chair. The almost soft, warm but cloying quality to his voice. Like he's trying not to make it obvious he's handling me. Like I'm some import dignitary he wants to avoid upsetting. But one he LIKES. It's strange... I'm certain I'm missing something...

At least I have plenty of other Guards around to ask.

[sharky857]

I have momentarily run out of ideas for stories, so here's a list of headcanons/musing about the Hex.

The fact that the majority may be about/involve Amir might or might not be just a coincidence. Honest. :)

Quincy

Quite hot-tempered and in a "bickering sibling" relationship with Amir, where Quincy himself would be "the older one". I also have a low-key feeling that he may actually care and be concerned for Amir and the others, and that all the "scorn" is actually him trying to hide his levels of concern.

Quincy also strikes me as the kind to call other by either their first, last or full name depending on the situation.

Examples: "AMIR!" = actually no biggie, Quincy's just being his usual, impulsive, grumpy self; "BECKETT!" = did a whoopsie-daisy, but probably still manageable. Hopefully. "AMIR BECKETT!" = u did dun f-up son

On multiple occasions and while being absolutely sick and tired of that constant ruckus, he probably tried to destroy the speakers on the stage right next to his personal shooting range, only to see them back (a few hours to a day later), perfectly functional once again and still blasting THAT BLOODY SONG. At first he may have blamed Amir, probably also snap-demanding to "cut it out". Until realising that what would promptly fix the speakers every single time it's something that does start with "tech-", but also ends with "-rot" instead of "-nician". :)

After that, Quincy may have settled for some ear plugs, courtesy of Lettie's medical kit.

Lettie

Ye olde "getting real tired of toda esta mierda" kind of jaded medic.

May still have some bedside manners left somewhere.

Would maybe let you pet one of her rats, but also warn to not take it on her, if any of her bebes might bite your hand~

Eleanor

Her psychic abilities would not only allow her to communicate with the rest of her team, and also possibly take a peek inside of their memories, but she may also be capable of playing someone's memory into someone else's head.

She may also have protective "mama bear" tendencies when it comes to Amir.

Eleanor do be the Freaky One™ as Lettie would say, with a "tongue" (probably whole inside-of-the-mouth too) to match Venom's, your honour. Can't explain otherwise the need to specify that she has more technocytes than the rest of the team + the fact that she never speaks aloud. There might also some more "freakiness" ongoing under all that exosuit.

Aoi

Aoi would totally adopt Kalymos in a heartbeat if given the chance. Alas, she would have to settle for whatever surviving street kitty instead. And she would've long and totally adopted all the street critters, probably turning the entire mall in some kind of petting zoo because "there's so much space!" reasons, if it weren't for Arthur refraining her from doing so. The reason: no one inside the base would be exactly too thrilled to deal with a moody medic + lots of LOUD ANGRY SPANISH, if anything ever happened to make a snack out of even just ONE "furred baby" of Lettie's widdle family of rats.

Also: if one wanted to see Aoi instantly cry a waterfall, all they would have to do is let her watch either Hachiko or Bambi.

Arthur

He's definitely caught a case of "shonen protagonist syndrome".

I also headcanon him as being one of the Hexes who struggles to manage his own energy efficiently, since every time he does anything more than using an exalted blade he also passes out for a moment. No wonder Aoi can't stop and won't stop to keep her eyes peeled on her guy.

Amir

He strikes me as the one with the least technocytes in the bloodstream, at least judging from what glimpse I could grasp of everyone's face. Everyone has some unnatural-looking veins and marks on their face, but Amir's skin still looks as smooth as silk, only with tons of freckles. Not to mention, the fact that Quincy openly says that he is "a weak, weak boy", while Arthur comments that "Amir's still alive. That's a win" in such a way that it seems to leave for implied that he maybe did not expect some techie to survive whatever he's talking about.

There's a 100% chance of neurodivergence ongoing with him. Was also probably bullied in school for that. On the flip side: he might've found "Heaven on Earth" upon entering an IT school.

Before getting technocyte'd, Amir was also probably not very fond of running around in a literal way: a few NYOOM!s, and one may have caught him almost keeled over against the nearest wall, wheezing as if he had been on top of mount Everest without an oxygen tank. Poor guy just didn't have the stamina for zoomies. :( Yet. >:)

Imho, whenever Amir uses "Speed", there's an air current to match, ozone-flavoured too given the nature of his "superpowers". If you ever had the UNpleasure of having a lighting strike too close for comfort, you might also know what the air smells like, in those situations. :°)

Since Amir is all about electricity, methinks that the same smell can be sensed whenever he uses whatever other ability he would use as well.

Being the techie/electronics specialist of the team, I too have embraced the headcanon that Amir's responsible for fixing and patching up every single electronic device inside Höllvania central mall, from the bare essential in lights to the arcade game machines, going through the speakers now blasting the exact, same song over and over again. No force on Earth could distract an hyperfocused techie from his task, after all.

Amir doesn't sleep. Ever. He just takes power naps whenever he feels like taking them.

There would be one arcade machine that might be like Kryptonite to the technician: this spawn of the devil here.

The reason: before technocytes, he would gasp for air after a single session (fuckywucky stamina, remember?)

After technocytes he may be finally able to master even this one. If it weren't for The Clumsy Factor™ that would probably cause poor Jitter to eventually stumble down the platform. Or he might just go so fast that he would literally wreck said platform an embarrassingly lot of times. Whoops.

Mixed & Random musing

A. Since he may also be one of the Hexes to spend tons of energy between lightning shows and zoomies, Amir could have quite an appetite. Arthur might follow in a close second place.

One might wonder where they get their own "foodie fuel" to keep all that up. The answer is all around and also inside Höllvania mall: savoury, spicy, delicious techrot, if one doesn't mind the smell. And the texture. And probably the way that stuff might slightly squirm and twitch a little as well.

... What? Do you have any idea how hard could be to find fresh veggies & stuff in Höllvania, at the moment? 😤

B. I too have embraced the theory that some civilians fled and some others may be trapped inside Höllvania, in both cases living (surviving) inside shelters, possibly into sturdy underground bunkers.

[sirtaliesin]

Hmmm Jason and Etrigan dealing with some no magical tech; either some stuff wayne tech made, batman found or just general everyday tech?

This took me a bit, but the first thing I thought of was Jason shopping for a mobile phone. Thank you for the suggestion!

Phone Shopping

This was absolutely ridiculous.

Jason looked from one display to the next, mood shifting between irritation, disbelief, and bewilderment. He needed a mobile phone not a computer. Placards with an array of photographs and cheerful blurbs sat next to the variety of models on display. Proudly declaring excellent camera quality, recording features, excessive storage, and a number of functions that didn’t seem necessary on a phone.

Most of the models on display seemed to take the actual function of a telephone as secondary at best. If they considered it at all. Looking between the touchscreens and the model numbers, a sense of regret pooled in his belly. He recalled the conversation he’d had not more than a week ago that had necessitated this outing. That he really did need a mobile phone for when he was out, especially since the last model he’d had suffered an unfortunate demise via hellfire more than a year ago.

The lamentation that he hadn’t brought one of his friends with him was short lived. Bruce, while fairly knowledgeable about these things, would have drawn far too much attention. Zatanna might have been a more reasonable choice, but he couldn’t bring himself to bother her about it either.

“Can I help you find something sir?” The salesperson Jason had been studiously avoiding asked.

“Perhaps. Do you have anything less,” Jason gestured to the variety of smart phones with Wayne Tech logos, “Complicated?”

“We have a new model with a very sleek operating system just over here.” The young woman – Jason noted her name tag read Andie – said while she led the way to a different display near the counter.

The newer models were, like the rest, overly complicated smart devices with fragile screens and boasting excellent cameras. Jason felt a headache forming. The young woman was talking to him again, describing the benefits of a telephoto lens and a higher megapixel rate, excellent battery life, and enough storage for his needs. What those must have been by the estimation of whoever designed that handheld computer, Jason couldn’t even imagine. The only thing she’d said thus far that had any appeal was the long battery life.

“Um, I was thinking of something a little more utilitarian.” Jason hazarded, trying to shift away from the sales pitch for the shiny new model.

“Oh? We do have some very basic models as well, Wayne Tech’s older models are perfectly serviceable-“

“Do you have anything that doesn’t have a touch screen?” Jason interrupts.

“Without? Well, we have some flip models-“

“Could I see those please?”

Andie tilts her head and gestures bemusedly to the opposite end of the store. Furthest from the door, Jason notes. Not exactly hidden, but certainly not the bright eye-catching displays of the smart models. They are far more utilitarian and familiar, more akin to his old phone than any of the cameras that also allowed one to make a call.

“I think this will do just fine.” Jason says finally, picking out a simple flip phone. It has a camera still, but at least it has buttons. Easier to use if he couldn’t see, and he was certain he’d be less likely to destroy it.

Andie rings up the purchase for him and helps him change over his number with a smile. Jason contemplates the dark glass panes of the other devices on display as he leaves. The black mirror surfaces that wink to life with glowing colour aren’t terribly appealing.

Three months later, after a particularly complicated trip to New Hampshire, Jason returns home to find an unassuming box on his kitchen table. A note in a familiar hand tucked under it.

‘Just try it out. -Bruce’

Jason ignores the new Wayne Tech smart phone for another month on principle.

[bookoftheironfist]

Hey! I’ve noticed that since Danny’s not been the Iron Fist his company’s been getting a bit more attention, especially in Gang War, and I was wondering what the deal is with Rand Corp lately? It seems to be quite Tech focused recently, however the last important thing I remember happening with it was in Immortal Iron Fist a few years back when Danny was making it into a Non-Profit. I vaguely remember that still being the deal with it in the Power-Man/Iron Fist series from the early 2010s with Meachum being involved, but I don’t think I’ve read anything where it’s been too important since. Thought I’d see if I could get some answers from you as your Iron Fist knowledge far exceeds mine, and it’d be good to be in the know if it is going to be getting more attention in future comics. Keep up the great blog!🔥

Thank you!

The Rand Corp situation has been difficult to track, and I feel like it's fallen victim to the kind of continuity inconsistency that tends to result from the short runs/frequent creative team changes that Iron Fist has experienced...basically since the 90s. I really appreciate you asking this because it gave me an excuse to go back and take a closer look at the modern Rand Corp timeline which, simply put, is this:

In Immortal Iron Fist, Danny commits to donating away his fortune, which he never really wanted in the first place. At the end of that series he shuts down Rand Corp, sells his penthouse and moves in with Misty, and plans to funnel what's left of his money into his and Misty's kung fu school/youth support center, the Thunder Dojo.

As you mention, by Power Man and Iron Fist volume 2, Danny has transformed the bones of Rand Corp into the Rand Foundation, a humanitarian non-profit, which Joy Meachum steps in to help him run (I think it would have been fun for them to call it the Rand-Meachum Foundation, for old times' sake and full-circle-ness, but hey).

In Defenders (2011), with no explanation or fanfare, we learn that Rand Corp has transformed into Dongxi/Rand (presumably through a merger of some kind). Jeryn Hogarth is back on board, and the company still seems to be involved in transportation technology, including privatized space travel. There's already no mention of the Rand Foundation.

In Living Weapon, the dilapidated tower that formerly housed Rand Corp is taken over by Steel Serpent and the One and then fully destroyed when Danny, um, imbues it with the combined chi of the citizenry of K'un-Lun and transforms it into a giant mech to battle a god (man, I love Living Weapon). Brenda Swanson mentions Danny's charity work during her interview with him in the first issue, but he was also doing charity work long before he shut down Rand Corp. There's no specific mention of the non-profit, and not even any mention of Dongxi/Rand. Defenders (2011) ended (spoiler) with a reality rewrite. Was Donxgi/Rand erased, perhaps?

Power Man and Iron Fist volume 3 is centered around Luke and Danny re-starting Heroes for Hire. No mention is made of Rand Corp or the Rand Foundation.

In Iron Fist volume 5 Danny still has quite a bit of money; he pays a million dollars in cash to a fight club and says the set-up for Shou-Lao in his apartment cost millions, not to mention his security for the Book of the Iron Fist. No explanation is given. There's no mention of Rand Corp or the Rand Foundation.

In Defenders (2017), Danny attends a high-society function on behalf of Rand Corp and personally buys Night Nurse a building. The company seems to be back. I was a bit baffled by this when the series was coming out, but at the time, I took it with a grain of salt because the whole comic felt slightly removed from the normal 616 continuity. Now, however, it fits perfectly into the general confusion surrounding this topic.

Immortal Iron Fists seems to be the most recent official turning point. Rand Corp is definitively stated as being "back up and running" following its destruction in Living Weapon. Danny rides around in a fancy limo. He mentions that a lot of his time is being taken up "running the company" and refers to himself as a "multi-billionaire". No mention of the Rand Foundation. No context or explanation for why he decided to revive Rand Corp. Even Danny's character bio on the title page says that he still "presides over his deceased father's billion-dollar company". It almost feels like a retcon, but Danny has never, ever ridden around in a limo before, so I'm not even sure how to categorize it.

Heart of the Dragon and Iron Fist volume 6 both include vague, fleeting references to Rand Corp, but nothing conclusive. Phantom Limb has nothing at all.

And then we have Gang War, which is written as though Rand Corp has just been around this whole time, doing R&D on cool fight suits for Danny to give to Luke.

The casualness of it all is what leads me to suspect that it was just a big continuity bumble on the part of the various creative teams, rather than an intentional shift in the status quo. I'm not saying that big changes to Danny's world haven't been made with no set-up or explanation before (cough), but I would think that if he were actively bringing the company back as a money-making, tech-creating entity, after being so emphatic about shutting it down, we would have least have had a scene at some point in the past few years of him saying, "You know what? I think I want to revive Rand Corp because...etc." And we haven't. Thus, I'm diagnosing this as a situation where the Rand Foundation non-profit was probably forgotten following PMIF volume 2, which led to the events of the end of Immortal being forgotten, which led to creative teams going "Oh yeah, Danny Rand. He's a rich guy who owns a company, right?" and then just having Rand Corp and Danny's fortune still be a thing because they forgot that they, quite significantly, stopped being one a while ago. Which is a big, frustrating shame, because his decision to dump his father's company and get rid of his money was, I feel, a really important and compelling moment in Danny's journey. As we look towards Danny's future, I'll be curious to see what role Rand Corp might play in this new chapter of his life.

Thanks for the great question!

[sieglinde-freud]

for the ask game: 2, 4, 5, 9, 17, 24, 29, 35

OOHHH THIS GONNA BE LONG under cut immediately

2. Least favorite main title?

i think this may upset some people but just of the games that i have finished (i havent played or finished every single fire emblem game… i know i know bad fan shut up) it’s prooobably fe7??? not because it’s bad. i do love that game. i just love it the least of every other game i played? i love all three of the lords a lot!! theyre just not my super favorites. i like the story fine, just not as much as other games. the gameplay is alright, but i dont think it’s anything to write home about. it’s a perfectly average fire emblem game all across the board i think. and that’s probably why i dont think about it too much? though, admittedly, ive only played through it fully once and that was like. five years ago? i could give it another run. i never did try hector hard mode, tbf… also huge shoutout to my lovelies sain and serra i love them so much…

4. What games do you wish to play next?

i dont know how often i mentioned it but i had a computer a while ago that just stopped working. like completely. the hardware is fine it just stopped functioning properly and ive taken it to literally every tech place and handed it to every computer junkie friend i have and nothing can fix it. and very unfortunately, it broke while i was in the middle of playing path of radiance. i dont really have anything else i can emulate it on right now, but if i could it’d be that. and of course, radiant dawn right after :)

5. What games would you reccomend to someone new?

toss up between 7, 8, and 13. they all have their strengths and weaknesses as entry points, but theyre all fairly simple in difficulty, and 7 and 13 were entry points for a lot of people who still love the game today, so theyre pretty easy to reccomend. 7 and 8 are easily accessible being able to emulate on like. most things?? even iphones with little hassle. 13 was also, up until very recently, very easy to grab off the eshop. i guess if someone asked me now compared to last year maybe i wouldnt say 13 for that reason? idk. 16* is also an option though, if only because it’s on the switch and while fairly different from the main fire emblem formula, it is VERY good at grabbing attention. im biased because i have used it to drag a friend into fire emblem hell so. i know it works. personally i’d probably go 7/13, 8, 16*, {the rest} but yeah. those four. move awakening down if hardware is an issue.

9. Least favorite character?

IN THE WHOLE SERIES??????? man… i dont know i dont really dislike a whole lot of characters? i guess the first one that comes to mind is gilbert three houses?? i understand why hes like that for sure and can sympathize but i dont know. everytime that hes on screen i just frustrated. the fact that he treats annette the way that he does bothers me a lot even if i understand why, but then theres also the added fact that he only becomes story relevant to replace dedue, who was a MUCH better and far less ANNOYING character to listen to all the time. like why would you replace one of my favorite students/retainers with this stupid little old man who i really have no reason to be attached to? you cant even recruit him during white clouds! not to mention, hes force deployed with the most garbage base stats (THAT YOU CANT CHANGE. BECAUSE. HE WASNT RECRUITABLE IN WHITE CLOUDS!!) in one of the hardest maps in the whole game in a position you CANNOT EDIT. like just GIVE ME DEDUE??????? you know, the CHARACTER I TRAINED??????? god… anyways so its probably him. this felt good actually i dislike him much more than i thought i did.

17. How did you get into Fire Emblem?

this is really embarrassing actually but when i was younger i was really into kid icarus uprising (i still am but like less so) and i reeeally loved pit like you see me with inigo now? that was pit for me back then. and i wanted more of him but nintendo was not giving me any kid icarus content, so what i looked up his voice actor instead, and i went through a lot of medias just to listen to him (did you know antony del rio did this live performance of maroon 5’s “This Love” that’s actually way better than the original? look it up) (no i dont like adam levine) but the one that stuck the most was this silly little game… you mightve heard of it its called Fire Emblem Fates. and i saw silas fire emblem and i was like WOAHHH. HES CUTE and did a ton of research on the series, having only vaguely known of it from smash bros. bought birthright, having learned it was the easier of the two paths, and then i just. entire life changed immediately and i didnt even know.

24. An FE title you wish would be remade?

all of them in order, which is what they already seem to be doing! so, ideally, fe4 next? of course my bias would LOVE an awakening remake but i dont think thats fair to skip all the other games. plus, i think there are other games that need a gameplay overhaul more. …like fe4.

29. Avatars: yay or nay?

i cant fucking stand the concept of avatars in fire emblem. i like all of them as characters. i think robin, corrin, byleth, and alear as characters (i havent played shadow dragon and new mystery sorry kris!) are fine. but i hate how theyre all implemented into all of their games, to the point where the words “byleth” and “alear” are never spoken in their mostly fully voiced games. its so fucking stupid. and then you have writing problems, like other playable characters not being able to have meaningful and lasting conflicts with the avatars because you have to be able to fuck them when the games over, or even during the game in robin and corrins case. and also the weird incest that has to happen if you want your avatar to have familial ties? god forbid people who just think camilla or ryoma are hot have to justify incest to themselves and read some the dumbest fucking s support bullshit just to have their little otome romance. and then the plot bending around them? robin i give a pass because i dont think awakening was annoyingly centered on them (the grima thing was close but for the most part the focus stays on chrom and i think thats a good thing) but as much as i love these games, fates, three houses, and engage all suffer from being a little TOO player pandering. making your character a god? really? especially when the avatar takes focus away from other potential story drivers (xander/takumi, 3h lords, engage royals) and like for what? i like all of the “avatars” as characters. but the way that theyre used and what little that usage does for any positive story impact is just frustrating!

35. What’s something you wish Intsys would just stop doing?

avatars.

[maccreadysbaby]

Chapter Eight: MacDoggy

featured characters: tommy (oc), maccready, zeke, bluejay, duke, johnny d., roxy, rowdy

word count: 2,656

full chapter masterlist

—

Tommy tightened the last screw on her newest masterpiece. It was about six o'clock. The sun was setting, beaming its golden rays down on the garage. Two days since she got the parts from Daisy’s merchant, and already, two functioning turrets sat on the roof of the Red Rocket she called home.

MacCready had been there four successful nights. Tommy had come to the conclusion that she didn’t really like him, but she did like teasing him. He seemed to be growing — at least slightly — accustomed to her constant taunting and dog jokes. And to be completely honest... she could've gotten a much... much worse babysitter.

"Oh yeah. Let's boot up these babies," She whispered to herself. She rose from her knees, patting the metal turret on it's top. An identical one sat across from it, each aiming off opposite sides of the roof.

Tommy stretched when she stood, wincing at the pain in her torso. It still hurt like, every time she moved, but it was pretty manageable without Med-X now. She slowly made her way to the terminal that she had fixed up and placed on the roof. It ran almost as good as Zeke's. It was connected to both turrets with a host of wires and conduits, as well as running power to each of them by the small generator that sat on the other end of the roof.

She dusted off her hands and wiped them on her shirt. Roxy had washed her black tank top as well as it could be washed. Thank goodness it was black. She was wearing some of Zeke's old green cargo pants — not that he would need them even in he was awake, they’d pretty much be an abomination on him. Her Atom Cats jacket was laying off to the side. Her hair was tied up in an ugly bun that MacCready couldn't help but make fun of. And speaking of — her shadow was sitting on the edge of the roof, rifle in hand, watching her. She glanced over at him. She didn't understand how he stayed in those same green and brown clothes all of the time.

"Enjoying the show?" She questioned, crouching over the terminal. She saw him shrug in her peripheral.

"Pretty boring if you ask me,"

She shook her head, glancing down to her right. Next to the terminal was two metal boxes of bullets. Ammo no one used. 50 Cal, 7.62, 5mm, some 9mm she managed to haggle off of a trader from the Capital Wasteland, 5.56, the works. Basically everything that wasn't a sniper round, a shotgun round, or energy. Each of the boxes were shaped sort of like square funnels with a hole and flap at the bottom. They were both almost full, which was a good sign.

She typed a few commands in on the terminal, until the words 'READY TO LOAD' popped up. With a smile, she carried one of the ammo boxes over to one of the turrets.

"So you've made a perfectly good turret, and you're feeding it reject ammo?" The mercenary questioned. She glanced back at him, her green eyes locking onto his grey ones. He had his chin balanced on the stock of his sniper, the barrel sitting on the roof. She thought it would be funny if she kicked it out from under him.

"Yeah. Cool, right?" She questioned, lifting up the funnel of bullets and sliding it into a slot on the top of the turret. "There's a rotating panel inside, almost like a huge gear but with a bunch of different gun barrels attached. The bullets go in, the machine reads what caliber it is, rotates to the appropriate barrel, and bam. A turret that can shoot all the bullets you don't use."

"I'm not impressed," He stated coldly. "Seen tech miles ahead of that."

"I'm sure you have," She muttered, rolling her eyes. She carried the other batch of bullets to the second turret, inserting it into the top. 

The mercenary shifted. "How exactly does it know what type of bullet it is?"

A smirk appeared on the girls face as she returned to the terminal. "The same circuit boards and adapters that let assaultrons detect the difference between friend and foe. Just tweaked it a little to detect slight differences in shape and size, which they already did. I also outfitted them with cameras in order to choose its target. Obviously it won't shoot at regulars or non hostiles... I programmed it to fire at hostiles only."

"And how does it know who's hostile and who's not?"

Tommy chuckled. "You really are that guy, aren't you?" 

The mercenary didn't reply. The teenager typed some commands on the terminal, then shook her head. "They were old Assaultron circuit boards I hybrid connected with some old Mister Handy boards. Full facial recognition for the owner, aka, me. The rest is all deduced by audio, mostly. Picks up signs of gunfire or violence. It can tell the difference between human and non human fairly easily, thermal imaging and whatnot, it's just the human enemies it might stumble on a little. There's still a lot of tweaking to come. But it's better than nothing for now."

She saw him nodding out of the corner of her eye. She typed a few more commands on the computer, and suddenly, both turrets whirred to life and began rotating side to side.

"Heck yeah," She whispered, heading over to the turret facing the entrance. She double and triple checked each turrets' systems, as well as running several diagnostics on the terminal. Everything looked green. But of course, you never know until they fired.

"It's been four days since you were... laid off from work, and you've already repaired home-built communication tower, completely fixed a botched floating robot, and built two all-ammo turrets from nothing but scrap you got off a ghoul. I might be stretching here, Boss, but I can't help but think you have a problem. A serious problem."

Tommy looked over at the mercenary, who hadn't moved from his spot slouched against the lip of the roof. "What is my problem, Therapist Sparky?"

"You are way too much of a nerd for me to hang out with,"

She scoffed. "Okay, mister cool-guy. If you want to die from lack of technological protection, be my guest. Butcha' can't do it here."

"Yeah. Because the freakin' Mechanist lives here," He stated, fiddling with the trigger of his gun. Tommy glanced up at him quickly. 

"You read comic books?"

He locked eyes with her. "Who doesn't read comic books?"

"You're a total comic book geek, aren't you? Aren't you!" She said loudly, crossing her arms. "Making fun of me for knowing technology. Ha!"

MacCready raised an eyebrow at her. "I saw the mountain of comics in your trailer, so you can cool it on the deflecting and accept the painful fact that you are, too."

Tommy opened and closed her mouth a few times, before giving up and heading for the ladder she used to get on the roof.

"Haha! Told you!"

"Bad dog," She replied. She quickly gathered her toolbox and made her way down the wooden ladder, ignoring the dull sting in her chest, and hopped onto the ground. Before he could follow her, she grabbed the ladder and laid it down against the building.

"Hey... hey! Still up here!" The mercenary announced, appearing over the ledge of the roof. She could only see his head, and he looked angry, which gave her a laugh.

"Yeah, I know," She chuckled.

"You're just gonna leave me up here? I'm supposed to be watching you,"

"Watch the garage from up there. I thought snipers liked it up high," She stated, wiggling her eyebrows. She made her way through the back door of the garage. She could hear MacCready's muffled voice... but she didn't care enough to listen.

She decided it wouldn't hurt him to stay up there for a little bit.

—

She let him down three hours later.

He wasn't very pleased. He went on a long, drawn out rant about how he was starting to not hate working for her, how he was just trying to do his job, yadda yadda. Tommy was laughing almost the whole time. 

And now the moon was out, and it was almost nine-thirty, according to the terminal she’d gone back up to check, like, twelve times. The Atom Cats (plus MacPuppy) were congregated at the tables on the other side of Bluejay's bar. The buzz in the air wasn't the same without Zeke. He was still on his cot, connected to the big blue machine. 

Tommy was behind the bar, getting things ready for dinner in their tiny kitchen composed of a stove, fridge, and sink. All of which Tommy (with a little help from Zeke) had restored to working order ages ago. She was making the Cats favorite dish — Blamco Brand Mac N' Cheese with chopped up Mirelurk cakes mixed in. She was lucky enough that the neighbors needed their water pump fixed a few days before she got home, and had awarded Duke with about five of the meat slabs as payment. You wouldn't hear anybody complaining.

She had water boiling in a pre-war pot on the stove, and the mirelurk cakes were heating up on an old skillet beside it. The jukebox was playing softly in the background, a song Tommy didn't really know. Johnny D, Bluejay, and Duke we're playing cards at the first table, Rowdy and Roxy were chatting at the second, and at the third, MacCready sat alone, stripping down his sniper for goodness knows what reason. A stiff silence ensued when the song ended and the jukebox began whirring to find another. Tommy dumped the box of Blamco noodles in the boiling water, careful to catch the package of powdered cheese before it fell in.

“Hey T, what do you want for your birthday?” Rowdy suddenly questioned. Tommy glanced up at her, rusty wheels turning for a solid ten seconds before she comprehended that tomorrow would be a week since the night she went to Goodneighbor. Which meant her birthday was tomorrow.

“Oh, geez, I totally forgot,” She muttered. “If I’m being completely honest, it’d be a birthday miracle if Zeke woke up.”

No one said a word.

Quietly, a new song started playing.

"I got a doll baby, I love her so, nothing else like her anywhere you go-"

Tommy almost sighed in relief when the familiar song kicked on. If she could pinpoint one thing that happened continuously throughout her life — it was that song. It used to play around Diamond City when she lived there, it played on the radio in HQ. It seemed to play no matter where she was. She started tapping her foot to the beat as she stirred the noodles.

"Atom bomb baby, little atom bomb... I want her in my wigwam... she's just the way I want her to be, a million times hotter than TNT," Tommy sang along quietly with the song as it bopped along. She kept stirring the noodles on the stove. "Atom bomb baby, loaded with power, radioactive as a TV tower, a nuclear fission in her soul..."

In the midst of her singing, she caught Bluejay laughing over the counter at her.

"What?" She questioned, not taking her eyes off the noodles she was trying so desperately not to overcook. The man glanced at her, tossing a card to the center of the table.

"Nothin'. Song just reminds me of when Andy was here,"

A small smile quirked up on the side of Tommy's face. Andy wasn't that much older than her — only a year or two. She remembered, every time this song came on, he'd say it reminded him of her. He was a terrible flirt. She was seventeen when he died. He was nineteen.

She snickered. "Yeah. Ol' Andy loved this song."

"No, Ol' Andy loved who this song reminded him of," Johnny D. chuckled. Tommy peered over at him, pointing her spoon at him.

"Don't,"

"Atom bomb baby, little atom bomb...  I want her in my wigwam-"

"I'm just sayin'," Johnny continued. Tommy went back to stirring the noodles.

"She's just the way I want her to be, a million times hotter than TNT,"

She stared down at the pot. She remembered cooking this when Andy was still around. He would always stand on the other side of the bar, all posted up on it, talking to her about random things. He never really knew what to do with that bright red mop of his, so it was usually frizzed everywhere. His eyes were a bright green, like hers, and his face was absolutely peppered with freckles. He would always spin her around when she was delivering plates to the Cats. Zeke was the closest thing she had to a guardian, and Andy, well... he was the closest thing she had to a best friend. If she could call it that.

She remembered the night he died. He and Duke went out for a supply run in their power armor — a common occurrence when Rowdy needed more parts. She didn't know anything was wrong until Duke came back by himself. She asked for Andy, and all he did was shake his head no. 

Duke never really told her what happened. She heard him talking to Zeke about how the attackers took his power armor, and had really advanced laser guns, but he...

Tommy dropped her spoon into the pot.

She understood now.

She looked back down at the macaroni and meat, realizing she'd autopiloted almost the whole meal thinking about Andy. She pulled out her nasty spoon, and then fished seven bowls out of the cabinet and set them out on the counter. She  carefully dished an even amount into every bowl. She was silent as she carried three bowls to The guys, two to the girls, and one to MacCready, all of which muttered a small thanks. Besides MacDoggy.

The Merc glanced up at her, but stayed silent. Tommy was deep in thought, and she was sure her facial expression said that. She plopped her bowl down across from him and sat down in the chair. Atom Bomb Baby was far from her head anymore, even though it was playing in the background.

"Duke?" She questioned. The man glanced back at her from his food.

"Yep?"

Tommy's eyes were fixed on the floor. "You never told me what happened to Andy."

Duke looked down, shifting in his chair. It was obviously still a sore topic for him, as it was for everyone. She could tell by the way the Cats quieted.

Tommy sucked in a breath. "It was the Brotherhood of Steel, wasn't it?"

Duke sighed heavily. "The Brotherhood of Steel didn't get here until-"

"Don't lie to me. They've always been here. Even when I lived in Diamond City, there was a group of kids that would come stay while their parents were on Brotherhood business," Tommy explained, rising from her seat. "They killed him, didn't they, Duke?"

He was staring down at his bowl. Bluejay and Johnny D were looking around at other things in the room. Rowdy and Roxy were playing with their hands, messing with their clothes...

"Yes,"

There was a pang in Tommy's chest as the old wound was ripped open. All this time she thought Raiders got him, maybe Gunners, or Scavengers. People that were inherently bad. But the Brotherhood of Steel? People that were supposed to protect the Commonwealth? They tried to ransack the garage only days ago, and now she was learning that they killed one of her own.

She shoved the chair under the table so hard it rattled the bowls on top.

Tommy was no advocate for mass murder, but right then, she wouldn't mind watching that blimp fall out of the sky.

—

[handicraftvilla]

Vintage-Inspired Leather Duffle Bags

Look and Feel:

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Appeal:

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Modern Leather Duffle Bags

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Design Elements:

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Appeal:

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So, whether you're drawn to the charm of yesteryears with a vintage-inspired bag or the sleek efficiency of a modern design, there's a leather duffle bag out there that fits your style perfectly. It's all about what suits your vibe and your daily adventures!

[modular-kitchen-design-00]

Collection of Best Modular Kitchen Design Concepts

Introduction Finding the best modular kitchen design ideas is like finding out an amazing collection of kitchen brilliant thinking. In the world of today, kitchens are more than simply places to cook; they are focused on innovation and creativity. The possibilities can range from modern, clean miracles to eco-friendly solutions, just like India's different cultures. These kitchens balance usefulness and style, thanks to creative storage solutions and advances in technology. Colorful highlights and classic touches add personality, making each kitchen unique. Join us on our journey through the most innovative customized kitchen concepts, where function, creativity and cooking becomes a form of expression.

Small-sized Amazing Spaces The trend of simple modular kitchen design is spreading, and it's even showing up in kitchens. These designs have been defined by smooth, clean lines, free of mess surfaces, and hidden storage areas. Handleless cabinet doors provide a smooth appearance, and stylish color schemes of white, gray, and brown give an impression of perfection.

Smart Storage Solutions In a nation where storage space can easily be limited, smart storage options are important. Every inch of surface area of available space can be used with pull-out drawers, corner carousels, and towering cabinets that have multiple shelves. Appliances such as stoves, refrigerators, and microwaves now have their own assigned areas in modular cooking areas, keeping everything organized and easily accessible.

Multi-functional Islands Kitchen islands are becoming much more than just additional countertop space; they are the central attraction of the room. Multipurpose islands are used as breakfast spots or dining tables as well as preparation areas in India, where food is a common Focus for family get-togethers. A complete cooking station can be created on the island through the addition of built-in stovetops or sinks into certain designs.

Colorful Highlights While basic colors rule the overall palette, bright colors are making a comeback as finishing touches. Brightly colored kitchen backsplashes, cabinet interiors, and even kitchen accessories offer a playful touch to an entirely simple design. In a country pointed out for its bright customs, and these surfaces of color showcase the cheerful mood of Indian houses.

Eco-friendly Elements With an increasing focus on the environment, eco-friendly materials have become popular in modular kitchen design. From recycled wood cabinets to appliances that save energy, consumers are making green environmentally friendly choices. Natural materials such as bamboo, cork, and even salvaged wood lessen environmental impact while still adding warmth to the kitchen.

Tech-savvy Innovations Technology is changing every part of our life, including the layout of our kitchens. The latest kitchen is becoming more technologically advanced by the day, with automatic lighting and temperature control, as well as smart faucets and appliances. In India, where comfort is most important, these advances in technology are becoming needed elements in kitchen modules.

Traditional Touches With current trends, many Indian homeowners prefer a traditional look in their kitchens. Adding historic components, such as beautiful wooden carvings, brass elements, or stylish tile work, creates a feeling of antiquity and memory in the room. These timeless designs mix perfectly with modern comforts, offering the right balance of old and new.

Conclusion In conclusion, modular kitchen design in India is developing to match the demands and tastes of modern homeowners. Everyone may find something they like, from simple designs to eco-friendly solutions. By fitting design and usefulness, these kitchens not only improve the cooking experience but also serve as the centerpiece of the home, bringing families together to make lifelong memories. So, whether you're a cooking expert or simply like a tasty meal, investing in a well-designed customized kitchen is undoubtedly worthwhile.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs) Q1. Are modular designs suitable for smaller spaces? Yes, kitchens with modular design are very flexible and can be customized to fit smaller areas. They use smart storage solutions such as pull-out drawers and corner wheels to make the best of every available area while maintaining usefulness and design.

Q2. How do I include environmentally friendly features into my modular kitchen design? You can use eco-friendly materials such as reused wood for cabinets, bamboo flooring, and energy-saving appliances. You can also reduce waste by using long-lasting, environmentally friendly products.

Q3. What are the benefits of multi-functional kitchen islands? Multi-functional islands work as preparation areas, dining tables, and storage areas, making them perfect fits to any kitchen. They offer extra surface area for food preparation and can include built-in appliances such as sinks or stovetops, improving workflow and performance.

Q4. Are traditional components still useful in modern modular kitchen design? Absolutely! Traditional features such as beautiful woodwork carvings and decorative tile work provide a feeling of tradition and emotion in modern kitchen design. They offer a unique mix of old-world charm and modern comfort, inviting a wide range of interests and desires.

Q5. What makes a modular cooking space different from a traditional kitchen?

Modular cooking areas can be identified by pre-fabricated cabinets and modules that are put together on the spot, providing options in design and installation. They often feature modern comforts and clever storage solutions, whereas traditional kitchens might have fixed layouts with less customization choices.

Related Blogs abc By Sourabh Singh 0 Comments Popular Themes for Modular Kitchen Design READ MORE abc By Satya Prakash 0 Comments Modular Kitchen Design With a Fusion of Technology READ MORE

[lightwise]

I do think there's a number of interpretations/layers to this line (which made me get up from my couch and start pacing my living room crying before I could continue watching the episode).

I think in one way Crosshair is right--Clone Force 99 did die with Tech, because without him their family is now forever separated and fractured. There is no full reunion of the entire Batch in one place and at one time that is possible now if he is truly gone. Crosshair has been gone, Echo has been gone, but they both (intentionally or unintentionally) made their way back to their family eventually.

We also spent the majority of season 3 watching the markers of their old identities as "that squad" be stripped away. Hunter's signature red bandana with the Clone Force skull was switched out for an unmarked swath of red. Their paint colors had already been painted over from their original red and gray, then Hunter and Wrecker's paint gets scuffed beyond recognition, and then finally all of the boys deliberately scrape their armor down to the bare metal, leaving the bare bones of nameless, faceless armor that no longer signifies any particular emblem or ounce of personality. And the Marauder, their long time home and the one place in the world they could truly call their own, was blown up. By the time we get to the finale, their weapons and the armor on their backs is the only thing they still have that is "theirs" and ties them to their GAR days. Unless they just didn't show us, even this ends up being left behind on Tantiss, as their weapons and helmets are taken away by Hemlock and most likely not retrieved before they leave.

I agree that the concept of Clone Force 99 first died (or started dying?) during Aftermath when the war ended, Crosshair's chip was enhanced, and he turned on his brothers, forcing them to leave him behind and splitting them all up for the first time. For awhile they all still function like a military unit, with Hunter giving orders, taking on risky jobs that required their fighting skills, and not blending into civilian life at all.

By The Crossing, however, Omega has made it perfectly clear that they are more than just a military unit that happens to still be living together; they are a family, bound to each other no matter where they are or what they have been through. It's why Echo leaving has such a huge impact on her and on the team's dynamic, it's why they want Crosshair back so badly, and it's why Tech is willing to risk his life for his brother.

Crosshair takes a lot longer to come to this conclusion verbally, but he's always living it out through his actions once he returns. Taking care of Omega as they try to escape Tantiss the first time, and every moment after. Worriedly helping Hunter up out of the tunnels on Barton IV. Getting frustrated at Wrecker for needlessly putting himself in danger with the beast on Tantiss. Which then prompts him wanting Wrecker and Hunter to leave and allow him to finish the job on his own, knowing it's a suicide mission. He's acting out of guilt, yes, and he doesn't mentally believe that he truly belongs in the family of The Batch that Hunter, Wrecker, Tech and Echo had created for Omega while he was gone. But he also knows that Wrecker wanting to just storm in there and blow things up Bad Batch Clone Wars era style won't work anymore. Their old tactics won't work anymore, especially without Tech. Their wartime hubris and pride of having zero failed missions, of being able to waltz their way onto any battlefield and come away victorious and hardly breaking a sweat, is behind them. They've gotten older. They've lost people. They have failed time and time again. They have no guarantee of victory now. That Bad Batch, that Clone Force 99, has been gone for a long, long time. He was just the first person to verbalize it.

But Hunter and Wrecker then remind him that they're not going in blind, they know what they're up against. And they would do it all to rescue Omega. That she needs all of them together, because their bond is what is important. Their family sticking together, regardless of what comes. And that's what brings them to victory, for that last mission, before they are finally able to put their identities as soldiers away, or rather, setting them aside to allow new versions of their identities to be cultivated going forward. They might have hung up their armor, but as you said, their identity and legacy lives on through Omega and everyone they have impacted across the galaxy.

“Clone Force 99 Died With Tech.” Is that really true? The Answer is Deeper than you Think

In the series Finale of the Bad Batch, Crosshair shouts at Hunter with a harsh but memorable line, “Clone Force 99 Died with Tech.” But was that really true?

The answer could be both yes or no depending on the point of view.

From Crosshair’s perspective, he did believe Clone Force 99 died with Tech. A great deal of time had passed after he chose the Empire over his brothers. Like Omega told him on Pabu, “You’ve missed so much.” Crosshair was unaware all of the changes the squad had been through.

However, Crosshair knew exactly what was waiting for them inside Tantiss and that any attempt to infiltrate the base would be considered a suicide mission.

By sending his brothers elsewhere, Crosshair felt he was saving them. Given that his choice to remain with the Empire was the main source of his guilt, he felt that deserved to be the one to sacrifice himself. Hunter calling out this attempt as “Plan 99,” triggered Crosshair to forcibly reject everything they once were; thus giving us the line in question.

It’s important to note that by the time Tech enacted Plan 99, he had already come to the realization that they were more than a squad; they were a family. Tech sacrificed himself during a mission. So in essence, he saved his squad as a soldier. However, given the narrative of Season 2, there is a greater possibility that Tech quantified his decision as saving both his family and his squad.

Tech never thought he deserved his fate but understood it was the only solution. Plan 99 was implemented as an act of love. In Crosshair’s case, he felt he owed Omega; that sacrificing himself was an adequate punishment for his mistakes. That’s a huge difference.

Crosshair ultimately needed to forgive himself in order feel worthy of being accepted into the his old squad’s established family. We see this moment happen during the defeat of Dr. Hemlock.

During a tense stand-off on the bridge outside Tantiss, Crosshair had the ultimate test of faith. Plagued with doubts, he faced his worst fear; failure. With the encouragement from his brother, Crosshair pushed through his trauma and made a perfect shot to save his sister.

When Omega chooses to hug Crosshair after the battle was over, we clearly see the shock on his face that turns into relief. It was that in that exact moment that he finally forgives himself and is able to accept the love of his family. It’s one of the most touching and meaningful scenes in the entire series.

So, was Crosshair right? Did Clone Force 99 really die with Tech?

In my opinion, no.

Rescuing Omega from the clutches of Dr. Hemlock was their last mission as a squad. Their armor may have been metaphorically stripped of their old identities, but Clone Force 99 is irrevocably a part of them; just as one becomes a college alumni after graduation.

It’s also important to point out that Clone Force 99 was a title given to them by the GAR and the Bad Batch is a name they chose for themselves. A more accurate declaration would be that the concept of Clone Force 99 died when the Republic fell.

The narrative through the story of the Bad Batch is that the past is always a part of you. Your decisions and choices become your legacy.

Romar told Tech that Serennians existed before the war and the archive was a way to preserve his people’s history. Tech later explained to Omega that their squad existed before Echo and will still exist without him; that change is a fundamental part of life and they must adapt and move on.

Clone Force 99 and the Bad Batch may have been disbanded but their existence didn’t die.

They simply remain part of the Galaxy’s history and their legacy lives on through Omega and all people they’ve aided throughout their lives.

The skull patch on Omega’s jacket during the epilogue proves that.

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

Okay Gramps - Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: Chris isn’t happy his iPhone 6s finally died

Word count: 663

Warnings: Fluff! Implied Age Gap! Pregnancy! Teasing!

Masterlist

You and Chris didn’t often fight and if you did it was generally over something minor, like leaving the toilet seat up, or not putting clothes in the hamper.

However the most reoccurring argument was over his phone that was so old that it functioned more as a metal brick than an actual phone. You had begged him for years to update it, saying it was not worth the nightly battle just to get it to charge, or the poor battery life.

However he just took it to the nearest Apple store to get it repaired. That process repeating until the Apple store refused to repair it because they didn’t have parts anymore because it was that old.

You were certain he’d spent more on getting it repaired than it would cost to just buy a new phone.

You finally won the battle though when you got pregnant and with your due date only getting closer you told him it was not safe for him to be unreachable because his phone’s charge wouldn’t last an hour. The last thing you wanted while going into labour was calling all his friends and family trying to track him down.

However he was probably the only person on earth that wasn’t excited to get a new phone.

“I don’t like the lack of buttons” he huffs as he looks at his new iPhone 13.

“It makes it sleeker and gives you a bigger screen” you point out.

“I guess but I don’t really like the face scan thing either, doesn’t seem safe” he mumbles as he goes through the setting up process.

You roll your eyes at him “they have privacy systems in place, and you were perfectly fine with them having your fingerprint” you point out nodding to his old phone.

“Yeah but what if hackers can access it, they have our faces on file, they could make fake identities” Chris argues shaking his head.

“Oh boy just you wait until you find out about driver’s licenses and all that” you say sarcastically, running your hand over your bump, feeling the baby kick your hand “see even the baby thinks you’re being ridiculous”

Chris rolls his eyes letting out a small huff of a laugh. But still lets out a long sigh as he frowns down at his new phone.

You reach out taking his hand in yours squeezing it reassuringly “look I know you hate tech and thinks its all over complicated nowadays, and i’ll be honest I agree with you to a certain extent” you tell him getting him to look over at you “but you’ll get used to the new phone just like you did with your old one all those centuries ago” you add with a smirk.

Chris finally lets out a good laugh at that, smiling over at you “yeah you’re right, and I have to remind myself its for this one here” he sighs reaching over to rest his large hand over your bump.

“Exactly and think of all the cute non grainy photos you’ll take” you smile watching at his smile grows wider.

“Yeah I can’t wait” he grins leaning over to kiss you.

Just like you said it didn’t take long for Chris to get used to his new phone, he was almost like an excited kid once he found out all the cool features. Often running over to you to show you the adorable photo he’d just taken of Dodger.

“Look how clear it is! You can see every detail! And his eyes!” Chris exclaims as he shows you the most recent photo he took of dodger.

“See tech isn’t so scary after-all” you smirk kissing him on the cheek.

“I never said I was scared of it” Chris huffs rolling his eyes at you.

“Okay gramps” you laugh.

Chris arches a brow at you shaking his head “you’re lucky I love you” he says as he kisses your cheek.

“I love you too” you laugh

-💙📱💙-

Sharing is caring so please reblog if you enjoyed this!!

Masterlist

I don’t have a taglist so follow @secretswiftymarvelfanlibrary and turn on post notifications for updates!

[furbaliciouslygay]

My First Custom :)

So when I was in the 2017-era fandom, I was pretty horrified by the advent of Furby customization. I was a Furby purist! I didn’t want to do anything to my Furbs that couldn’t be undone if they ever went to live with another person for whatever reason (even though I’ve only ever gotten rid of one Furby, and that was my childhood Furb that had massive sensor issues that terrified me xD). I didn’t want to take perfectly good Furbs out of the collectors’ market, even though I’ve never had any intentions of reselling my Furbs. It just felt wrong!

Friends, this year, I broke. I customized one of my Furbys with something that can’t as easily be undone. I’d done piercings and accessories before, but nothing like this.

I replaced Polka’s eye chips!!

I kept the old ones just in case, but still!! Big step for a Furby purist like me!!

The way I rationalized it was that Polka has MSA, and I don’t know if it can be fixed or not (I have a guy who does vintage tech repairs for me, but he’s working on my 2005 baby right now to try and get it functional), but they wouldn’t have any resale appeal to most people anyway because you can’t really play with them. I don’t know why it took that rationalization to get me to customize a Furb, but it worked! xD

Their eyechips came from Etsy! Also ignore the earring that’s flipped up on their ear xD I just put that piercing in and forgot to flip it down when I took the pic!

I might even go ahead and replace their eyelashes eventually since they’re not in great shape, as you can see. What’s funny is that the rod holding the eyes in is kind of loose, so it’s hard to get them to stay looking foward. Usually, they look down and look kind of like the poor dear has seen things they wish to unsee xD

Huge thanks to my friend Victoria for giving Polka to me a few years ago! I love them dearly, even though they’re a little sleepyhead <3

[luvdsc]

mark lee sucks at technology.

tap the heart if you have a big, fat, embarrassing crush on your best friend!

pairing :: lee mark x reader genre :: fluff / best friend + social influencer au word count :: 5,883 words warnings :: none playlist :: dumb stuff (lany) ⋆ feeling (coin) ⋆ so far so good (gabrielle aplin) ⋆ electric love (børns) ⋆ love by mistake (bad suns) author’s note :: i was debating if i should post it on his bday instead, but i decided to drop it earlier, so uh, happy (approx. one week early) bday to mister absolutely fully capable (except when it comes to tech stuff) !!!! thank you for blessing us with your god tier raps ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.

In your required upper division business course aptly titled “Essential Marketing Strategies,” you had learned about a concept called personal brands. A personal brand is explained as the first impression a person wishes to perceive based on their own experiences, qualifications, and achievements. Your professor had told you and your classmates to pick three words to define your own brand. For instance, you chose to label yourself as charismatic, fun, and creative.

Your best friend’s brand would be awkward, endearing, and technologically challenged. 

Okay, so that is definitely more than three words, but who’s counting? You might as well tack on “Y/N’s big fat crush” at this rate because everyone and their mother knows that you carry a torch—or more accurately, a blazing wildfire that can easily be spotted from Pluto—for your best friend.

Well, to be more precise, you should probably say everyone, except Mark, knows. And that’s not for lack of trying either. You completely dropped the art of delicate subtlety months ago already. Maybe you should add “hopelessly oblivious” instead.

The rolling end credits to the sixth Harry Potter film are playing on the screen in front of you, signaling the nearing end of your magical movie marathon. You’re seated on the worn down couch in Mark and Donghyuck’s shared apartment, watching the former make his drink with the fancy, gently used Keurig newly settled on the scratched countertop. Johnny dropped it off a few days ago because he had splurged on a better coffee machine (“It even makes Instagram worthy whipped frappuccinos!”) and didn’t want his old, but still perfectly functioning caffeine provider going to waste.

“What’s wrong with this thing?” Mark slaps the side of the machine, and it starts to emit a low whirring noise. “Oh, that’s good, right? That sound is good, you think?”

His question is immediately answered by the sad squirt of hot water speckled with coffee grinds falling into his mug for a few seconds before the machine shuts off.

“What the hell?” he mutters angrily, carding his hand through his hair in frustration, and you finally decide to take pity on your best friend. Getting up from the comfy spot you know you sadly won’t be able to recreate perfectly again later, you stride over to where your best friend stands and flip open the top of the Keurig.

“Hyuck didn’t take out his used coffee pod,” you say, pulling out the incriminating evidence of your best friend’s roommate and disposing it in the trash can next to the refrigerator. “Where’s the espresso one you’re gonna use? Why didn’t you put that in?”

His jaw slackens, and he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze and mumbling, “I thought I’d just open it later and pour it into my hot water.”

“Mark,” you start, placing your hands on his shoulders firmly and staring into his eyes with a serious look on your face. “Please know that I’m saying this in the most loving way possible, but you are an absolute idiot.”

You release your grip on his shoulders and grab the espresso pod dangling from his fingertips before slotting it into the Keurig. You remove the mug he placed underneath the spout and wash out the accidental coffee water before placing it back in its original position and pressing the start button on the machine. With a sigh, you lean against the side of the counter, glancing at your friend who looks like a child being scolded for stealing from the cookie jar.

“If you pour the pod into your mug, are you just going to chug all the loose coffee grinds, too?”

“... I didn’t think that far ahead.” His lips start to unintentionally form a tiny pout, and your eyes (and your heart, too) soften.

You’re very relieved that Donghyuck is off filming with your friend because he definitely would be making fun of your heart eyes that frequently make an appearance around a certain Mark Lee. Which you always deny. Because you certainly do not have a gigantic crush on your technologically inept best friend.

You glance over at him again and have to physically fight yourself to resist the urge to kiss his cute pout away. Okay, so maybe you harbor a very respectable, medium sized crush. But it's no big deal. It’s completely under control. Unless you’re counting the fact that your best friend is still unaware, and you’re running out of ideas to try and see if he likes you back before you actually shoot your shot. Then it’s very much not under control because you’re losing sleep over it and you don’t know what to do to be any more obvious without stating the, well, obvious.

“Well, now you know. If you forget, you can FaceTime me and I’ll give you instructions on how it works.” You pat his shoulder reassuringly before pausing. “Wait, you do know how to FaceTime, right?”

“Yes!” he exclaims, sulking even more before confessing in a quieter, defeated tone, “Hyuck showed me last month.”

Mark grabs his finished drink and follows behind you, settling back onto the couch next to you. The streaming service already has Deathly Hallows Part 1 in the queue and ready to go, and your best friend is ready to click play until he notices your attention being focused on the smaller screen in your hands. He wonders if you’re about to post another one of your popular cooking videos on that app that shares a name with the most iconic song of the 2000s (hint: the name of the song’s singer is made up of four letters and a dollar sign).

“Are you uploading one of your videos?” he implores before taking a sip of his drink with a satisfied smile. Somehow, it always tastes better when you make it, and he can’t figure out why for the life of him. When he went to Johnny’s place, his older friend uses the exact same pod and water ratio for his espresso, and yet, it’s never as good as yours.

“Nah, I’m ordering my grocery delivery before I forget. Do you want anything?” You select the option to load your usual grocery items into your cart before debating on whether or not you should splurge on buying several packages of those seasonal Pillsbury sugar cookies that only come in stock during certain holidays. It seems like such an insult to the entire premise of your Tiktok account based on baking and cooking, but you’re an absolute sucker for those soft pastries.

“Yeah, can you get me a Shin Ramyun ten pack? Hyuck ate the last one two days ago and didn’t tell me.”

“You sure you don’t want ten boxes again?” You decide to get those Pillsbury sugary delights, happily adding three boxes to your cart. Everybody has a weakness, and yours just so happens to be a premade one way ticket to diabetes. You’re here for a good, delicious time, not a long time.

“No! That was an accident!” He objects, flailing his hands around, before falling back against the couch cushions in defeat. “But Hyuck does all the online grocery shopping now.”

“Thank god. You guys finally have quality toilet paper again.”

The past month of bathroom occurrences was plagued with scratchy tissue that felt more like goddamn sandpaper from the horrible depths of hell. To be honest, you probably would have rather used actual sandpaper, given the choice. You even made sure not to drink too much water any time you came over, but today, you decided to splurge on a venti passion fruit iced tea with sweetener from that very popular franchise sporting a mermaid logo and fiscally cosmic name. To your pleasant surprise, your trip to the toilet this time was wonderfully padded with Charmin Ultra Soft, not that absolutely awful off brand one with the gross texture of a dried pinecone from inferno.

“Hey, that toilet paper was a good steal! It was a three for one deal,” Mark protests, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Wow, I wonder why it was priced so low.” You deadpan, and Mark blanches, recalling all those restroom incidents that were rather rough. Literally.

“Anyway, do you think my viewers wanna see me make chocolate crinkle cookies or mochi doughnuts?” You bring up the two recipes you managed to perfect and add your own spin to on your phone, eyes scanning the ingredient lists.

“Both. And tell me when you’re making them, so I can come over and eat them.” He gives you a wide grin, and you let out a snort at that. His smile only grows as he says happily, “I love your job.”

“You only love it because you can freeload off of me,” you jest, but nevertheless begin to start to add all the ingredients for both recipes to your shopping cart. You always film cooking videos on Tuesdays, edit on Wednesdays, keep Thursdays free for last minute touch ups and emergencies, and post one every week on Fridays with other various random videos uploaded whenever in between. With that in mind, you schedule your upcoming grocery delivery for Monday.

“Hey, you need me. I’m the best taste tester.” He puffs up his chest proudly before hastily tacking on a more genuine reason. “And because I’d starve without you. I can’t live off of instant ramen and frozen chicken nuggets forever. Gordon Ramsay already confirmed my shitty cooking skills. I need you to survive.”

“Oh my god, when I uploaded those pics of your scrambled eggs on Twitter, I lost like a hundred followers in less than a minute.” You confirm the delivery and place your phone on the coffee table, picking up the opened bag of Cheeto puffs before settling back in your seat. “My cooking credibility was completely shot. I had to explain to my fans that I didn’t make those.”

“Yeah, but now everyone calls me Eggy Boi online!” he whines, and you laugh. You have to admit, it’s quite a funny play on the whole “edgy boi” terminology. You wonder if Mark will find it amusing if he discovers his roommate is the culprit behind his new online persona (He probably won’t, and you reckon Donghyuck enjoys living in a safe space where he doesn’t have to sleep with one eye open, so you stay quiet about it. You’ll use it as leverage some other time).

“Okay, Eggy Boi, come by on Tuesday because I’ll be baking in the afternoon,” you say casually, grabbing the remote control from your best friend and pressing play. 

You very narrowly avoid a green gummy bear to the face. It lands somewhere behind the couch, lost forever to the dust bunnies and other snacks that missed its target. You know for a fact that it’ll stay there until the boys decide to move to a new apartment. Mark grumbles at the miss, biting off the head of a red cherry flavored gummy bear perhaps a little harder than necessary.

“I hate you. But I’m still coming over next week because I want a doughnut.”

“No cookie?”

“... and a cookie. Maybe two.”

Wednesday comes faster than you expected, and you’re currently holed up in your apartment’s second bedroom—which you had transformed into a snazzy office space—completing the edits to your second video on mochi doughnuts. You already finished polishing the one about the cookies earlier, thank goodness. If you had to stare at your computer screen for another three hours, you would rather eat those pastries Mark tried to make two months ago, but had mistaken salt for sugar. Adding a cup of salt to any baked good is an extremely effective way to make anyone who tasted your best friend’s brownies experience a trip to the beach. Because they essentially just swallowed a mouthful of sand and ocean water. Because it’s salty as heck. Just like Mark was when you told him.

Speaking of your best friend, he’s currently puttering around in your kitchen doing god knows what. He knows better than to try another recipe and possibly blow up your number one moneymaker—your prized oven—in the process. Your heart nearly drops when your ears pick up the faint chopping sounds of a knife against your wooden cutting board. Is he going to try to temper chocolate again? He nearly burned through your entire stock of dark, milk, and white chocolate last time.

After much contemplation and deciding that you deserve a good procrastination break and a fully intact kitchen, you’re about to go out and see what he’s up to when Mark timidly appears in your doorway, clutching onto a white bowl of watermelon cubes with a fork tucked neatly in it. He shuffles in, dropping the snack on your desk before turning to walk out without a word, not wanting to disturb your work mode. 

Your heart warms up at the sight, and you speak up, a small smile slipping into your face. “What’s this for?”

“Knowing you, you probably haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” He pauses in the doorway and adds on sheepishly, “And I can't cook anything, so this is what you get.”

Your heart swells tenfold, and your smile widens even more as you spear a piece of fruit with the fork and quickly pop it into your mouth. “Thanks, Marky.”

His cheeks flush with a pretty shade of carmine, and he fails to suppress the little giddy smile that appears on his face at your nickname for him. He walks out of your office, reddened cheeks still rising up higher than ever. “Y-Yeah, of course. No problem.”

By the time you finish adding the final few touches to your edited video, the bowl of watermelon has been picked clean. You save your video and transfer both of your completed projects to your phone, making a mental note to schedule their uploads and add them to your account’s posting queue later. Shoving your phone in the pocket of your sweats after ensuring the successful transfer of your videos, you pick up the empty dish and walk out towards the kitchen, the silver fork clinking against the side of the bowl with every step.

As you wash the dish and utensil, Mark wanders over from his spot on the couch, leaning forward and casually placing his chin on your shoulder. Almost instantaneously, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you briefly fantasize about your best friend wrapping his arms around your waist and how domestic and sweet the two of you would look, like one of those cheesy couples the two of you always made fun of.

“What’s up?” you ask, making a conscious effort to hold your voice steady and not waver over the fact that Mark is basically draped over you. After you place the dish on the drying rack, you turn around to face your best friend, sorely miscalculating the distance as mere inches separate your face from his now.

“I—” Puberty decides to make an ugly appearance in the form of an ill timed voice crack, and he internally curses as he takes a step back, willing the incoming blush to go away. Letting out a small cough, he tries again, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“I, um, Jisung sent me some kind of dance video. He said it’s a challenge? I kinda don’t know what to do with it? Like do I make a new dance, record myself, and send it back? Actually, isn't it easier to just do a dance battle face to face?”

“Can I see the video?” You already have a good idea on what the video will be, but you want to confirm it. Mark fumbles with his phone, pulling up the video in his text messages. He angles the phone towards you for you to see, and you grab his hand, bringing the device a little closer to you for a better look and clicking play.

“Oh, it’s a Tiktok challenge! He’s doing the Say So dance!” you exclaim, recognizing the song almost immediately as your eyes follow the fluid dance moves, completely enthralled. “So a challenge isn’t going up against someone, like a battle. It’s just some kind of trend or concept that you try to copy yourself. You’re supposed to learn the same dance and record yourself for this one. I can show you some other challenges and help you practice and record this one tomorrow if you wanna drop by after work!”

“O-Oh, okay, sounds good.” Mark stumbles over his words, attempting to focus on what you’re saying and the dance Jisung is doing, but all he can think about is the way your body is pressed against his side, hand comfortably wrapped around his. He freezes up as the tips of his ears grow redder and redder with every passing second, and his face sports a similar color. He silently prays for the telltale crimson to go away by the time the dance is over.

When the video ends, you once again realize the close proximity between you and your best friend. Your face burns at this revelation, and you awkwardly take a step back. Clearing your throat, you hastily release Mark’s hand (He inaudibly lets out the breath he’s been holding in this entire time, yet he also already misses the way your hand felt grasping his).

“Uh, anyway, I’m gonna make a latte. Do you want a drink, too?” You walk towards the other side of your kitchen with Mark trailing behind you. You take out a floral, peachy colored mug from your cupboards before pausing and looking at your best friend. “Wait, do you remember how to use a Keurig?”

“Yes!” He says, slightly exasperated as he picks out his own cup from your cabinet. He always uses the same one—a cerulean blue mug with squiggles all over it—and all of your friends and guests know not to use it because it’s unofficially officially Mark’s mug (And perhaps, you did indeed buy it from that overpriced kitschy tableware shop down the street two years ago with your best friend in mind).

“Really?” You select the latte option and press start after you had already positioned the mug beneath the spout and inserted a green tea matcha pod. He finally relents, shoulders sagging and a defeated expression on his face.

“... No.”

You chuckle, taking the mug from him and carefully putting it on the counter. You grab the espresso pod you know he likes from the drawer below and place it next to the cup. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you again.”

Mark tries. He really does. He tries very hard to concentrate on memorizing the simple process, but he keeps getting distracted. His eyes are focused on the correct button to push before they start to trail up to your fingertips. And then, they go from your hand to your arm, then up to the elegant curve of your neck, and finally, to the way your lashes frame your pretty eyes and how the tip of your tongue sticks out slightly as you concentrate until all he can focus on is you, you, you.

Suddenly, in what feels like a blink of an eye, you’re done and handing him his finished drink, complete with a perfectly whipped milk foam on top. You ask him if he knows how to make it now, and all he can do is lie and nod with a barely convincing smile.

After all, how can Mark tell his best friend that the reason he never remembers is because you’re the biggest distraction?

Mark should be here in five minutes, according to his most recent text message. And in the text message below that, your friend had sent you a challenge. More specifically, it’s the one she completed with Donghyuck a few weeks ago. When you said you wanted bold suggestions on how to figure out if your best friend feels the same way about you as you do about him, you didn’t want one this bold. 

Yet, the video link to your friend’s “today I kissed my best friend” challenge along with a winky face from her is staring mockingly at you. While you aren’t one to back down from a challenge, the mere thought of kissing your best friend causes vast colonies of butterflies to erupt in your stomach and your ears to feel as if they have caught on fire. You’re already tongue tied with your head in the clouds, and he isn’t even here yet. How utterly fantastic.

However, your mother definitely did not raise a quitter, so you spring into action when you hear the faint jingling of a key being inserted into your apartment’s door (You had given Mark a copy of your key almost immediately after you had moved in). You move the pretty indoor fern given to you by Jaemin as a housewarming gift last year closer to the edge of your towering bookcase, leaning your phone against it. You quickly position the device to capture a good view of the couch area in your living room and press the record button, arranging a few of the leaves to hide as much of your phone as you possibly can without obstructing the lens.

You run full speed to your bedroom, letting out a sigh of relief when you’re safely inside and hear Mark finally unlocking the door successfully and shuffling in. When he calls out to you, you try to even out your breathing, walking out of your room with your tripod and laptop in hand.

“Hey,” you greet him in the most casual tone you can muster. You place the tripod down and sit before opening your laptop and setting it on the coffee table. “I thought we could watch a few challenges for fun before trying the Say So one. Have you watched Jisung’s videos before?”

“Um, well, no, not really,” he confesses sheepishly, taking a seat next to you on the couch, leg pressing against yours. He squints at the YouTube video you pulled up earlier before he had arrived, reading the title before clicking the space button to start it. “Savage Tiktok dance compilation part two?”

“Wait, hold up.” You pause the video and then turn to face him with an incredulous expression on your face. “You’ve never watched any of Jisung’s dance Tiktoks?”

“No… I don’t even have an account.” His cheeks are dusted with the lightest shade of pink as he quietly admits, “I watch all of yours though.”

Your eyes widen at his confession, face heating up as you stammer out, “O-Oh, well, I can help you make an account later to upload your video.”

“Sounds good.” There’s a few seconds of silence as you mull over his previous words before he speaks up again awkwardly, “Should I, uh, play the video?”

“Oh! Yes, right! Of course, hit play,” you laugh nervously, twisting and playing with the hair tie around your wrist. He starts the video again, and the two of you watch the compilation, slowly relaxing once more as you tap your fingers to the rhythm of the song and he bobs his head to the beat.

“Do I have to change outfits like that?” he questions a few minutes later, eyes growing round as he sees the girl on the screen switch between four different outfits throughout the dance. His closet basically consists of the same five black shirts that he stole from Jaehyun. Even if he did do an outfit swap, there would literally be no difference at all.

“You don’t have to,” you assure him, clicking the enter key to play the next video that’s recommended: another Tiktok dance challenge compilation. “All you have to do is copy the dance.”

Mark nods, taking a glance at the laptop screen before his hand shoots out and he pauses the video, leaning forward to take a closer look at the little recommended video title banner at the top. “Wait! What’s that one?”

He clicks on it, the new video now loading up. The two of you wait patiently for it to begin, waiting for the spinning disc to stop. But it doesn’t. In fact, the whole chrome page goes blank and then, the little pixelated Google Chrome dinosaur pops up on your monitor, announcing that you have no internet connection. Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to reload the page before trying to re-establish your laptop connection to your wifi. Unfortunately, you cannot find your appropriately named “drop it like it’s hotspot” wifi anywhere to connect to.

And that’s when it hits you. Your landlord had sent out a notice to the entire apartment complex last week about the electricity being powered down today from 4 to 6 p.m. for a maintenance check, and a quick glance at the digital clock on your laptop shows that it’s a little past four.

You groan, closing your laptop and flopping back against the couch cushions dramatically. Mark cocks his head, slightly confused, before he pokes you in the arm. “What’s wrong?”

“I completely forgot about the scheduled electricity shutdown for the entire building. We won’t have any wifi for the next two hours.” You pout, your bottom lip jutting out in the slightest, and Mark doesn’t think it’s fair that you get to be this cute and have this much of an effect on his racing heart rate.

“That’s okay, we can… play some board games?” he suggests offhandedly, pushing away the embarrassing thought and nudging your leg with his, and you smile before a sudden idea occurs to you. 

“Or we can still do some Tiktok challenges! What was the challenge you clicked on?” You quickly sit upright, turning to face your best friend, eyes sparkling in excitement. “I memorized a few of the dance ones already! Was it Renegade? I can teach you that one. Jisung showed me how to do it.”

“Um,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. His eyes dart everywhere, except you, as he lets out a feigned cough. “It wasn’t a dance one. It was about, uh, going up to your boyfriend… and um, hugging him... when he’s playing video games.”

“Oh.” You answer lamely, not knowing what to say. You unsuccessfully try to push away the image of you attempting that challenge with your best friend. “Those are really cute.”

“Really?” He says doubtfully, wrinkling his eyebrows and fiddling with the frayed sleeve of his sweater. “Wouldn’t the dude get mad?”

You don’t know what suddenly possessed you to do this (you’ll have to ask Renjun and his paranormal loving ass later), but you thank whatever demon did for that split second because you find yourself gently grabbing Mark’s arm and slipping your head underneath it. You swing one leg over his lap and settle down until you’re securely sitting in his lap, bent legs on either side of his hips, hands curled around the soft fabric of his sweater on both sides and resting on top of your thighs. His arms instinctively go around your waist, wrapping around you securely.

You tilt your head to the side slightly, studying the flustered boy in front of you with a teasing, albeit a little anxious, smile on your lips. “Are you feeling mad?”

Splotches of red litter his cheeks and decorate the tips of his ears, but your best friend furiously shakes his head at your question, bashfully ducking his head afterwards and muttering a soft “No.”

You swallow hard, heart pounding erratically in your chest as you timidly ask, “Would you be mad if I do this?”

Mark looks up at that, confusion written all over his face. His arms start to loosen around your figure, hands now resting on your waist. “If you do what?”

You take a deep breath. “This.”

You lean in and gently press your lips against his. Mark freezes in shock, and you quickly retreat soon after, gnawing at the inside of your cheek as you wait anxiously for his reaction. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and be buried six feet under.

A tiny noise of surprise belatedly escapes from him and crimson spreads across his cheeks like wildfire. His doe eyes are wide and sparkling, staring at you in bewilderment. Your best friend lets out a small laugh of disbelief before a full blown smile breaks out across his face. He gazes at you adoringly, breathing out softly, “I’m not mad at that.”

You perk up at that, draping your arms around his neck as you lean forward, beaming. “Really? You’re not?”

“Definitely not.”

This time, Mark meets you halfway, his lips slotting against yours perfectly and making you feel tingles up and down your spine. Your eyes are closed, and you are so hyper aware of the way his hands grip your hips, how he tugs you closer, and how his lips chase after yours. The number of butterflies from earlier multiply in your stomach, and you have ascended past cloud nine by now.

When the two of you break apart, your eyes flutter open, and you nudge your nose against his affectionately. The brightest grin blooms on his face once again, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his little giggles and hiding the awfully vibrant cerise that rapidly blossoms on his face.

“Is this a good time to tell you congrats for completing your first challenge?” you say, resting your cheek against the crown of his head. You pull away when he lifts his head up, surprised.

“I wasn’t playing video games though,” he says slowly, processing your words and thinking back to the challenge that started this all.

“It was a different challenge. It’s the one that Hyuck did a few weeks ago,” you confess, and realization dawns on him, his face lighting up for a split second before a look of horror takes over.

“Oh, no. Is that why you had your phone recording on the bookshelf?” Mark asks, dread beginning to cloud his mind.

“Yes…” you say slowly, a little perplexed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Oh my god, I ruined your video,” he moans, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder. “I saw your phone when I walked in and thought you were filming earlier and forgot to turn it off, so I turned it off for you.”

When the words finally register in your mind, you can’t stop the laughter from bubbling out of your throat, and he raises his head up to look at you with wide doe eyes at the pretty sound. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

You can’t stop laughing at the situation, and he looks at you worriedly, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly. You force yourself to calm down, a soft chuckle leaving your lips before you beam at him, leaning in and placing the softest kiss on the tip of his nose. “It’s okay, Mark. I’m not mad. That video wasn’t important anyway.”

“But still,” he whines before letting out a groan and slapping his hand against his forehead when the realization sinks in even further. “I’m such an idiot.”

“But you’re my idiot now, right?” you say teasingly, albeit a little shyly as well, as you reach over to tug his hand away from his face and lace your fingers with his.

“I mean, I kinda thought I was always your idiot,” Mark laughs softly and a little embarrassedly, eyes averted and cheeks turning pinker than ever. The largest grin spreads across your face at that, and you turn away slightly to hide it. You didn’t think your best friend can possibly be any more endearing, but he manages to prove you wrong every time.

“Well, then now you can add ‘Y/N’s boyfriend’ to your resume,” you say, and he fails to suppress the pleased smile appearing on his face at your remark, his rosy cheeks rising even taller than skyscrapers.

“So, uh, what sort of job description does that have?” He gazes at your intertwined hands in wonder, still completely giddy at the reality of you being his best friend and something more.

“Sharing hoodies, giving me attention, kissing, holding my hand, going on dates, you know, the basics,” you answer, squeezing his hand tenderly, and his doe eyes instantly light up. Mark feels a little bolder than before, and it shows when he grins widely and says:

“Can we do number three again?”

“Yes, we can, Eggy Boi.”

He wrinkles his nose at the name, disgruntled and unimpressed, as he crosses his arms over his chest, sulking. You let out a laugh before leaning in and crashing your lips against his. He immediately relents at that, enthusiastically responding and hugging you closer to him, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as you feel his own smile appear as well.

At that moment, you decide that you want to change Mark’s personal brand. Because his should be “absolutely wonderful, positively amazing, a cute kisser, your boyfriend, and your bestest friend.” And yes, that is most definitely more than the allotted three words, but again, who’s really counting?

Certainly not you when you’re too preoccupied with kissing your best friend. Correction: best friend and new boyfriend.

One new notification: donutkillmyvibe uploaded a new video!

moominjun commented:

so you’re saying the reason why we didn’t get the highly anticipated best friend challenge video is because @ marklyrawr turned the camera off?

donutkillmyvibe replied: yes 😔 I’m sorry to disappoint everyone 🤧

nanaislove replied: omg no bby it’s ok 🥺🥺💞💓💓💝💗 you didn’t have to make an apology video for that 🥺💗💓💘💖

goofys.chuckle replied: yeah it’s mark’s fault. he’s the disappointment here 🥴

morklyrawr replied: hahahahaha stfu hyuck

tytrack commented:

mark is going through puberty. I apologize

dobunny replied: @.@

goofys.chuckle commented:

are we getting whip(ped)lash pt 2 by eggy boi?

morklyrawr replied: YOU’RE THE ONE WHO STARTED THAT NAME?????

goofys.chuckle replied: uh gotta blast 🚀

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle does this mean you’re staying over again?

goofys.chuckle replied: @ showmethemonet yes if you want your super cute, mega talented, very handsome boyfriend to still be alive 🥺

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle oh my god I didn’t know I was dating bts jin???

moominjun replied: LMFAOOOOO

goofys.chuckle replied: heart 💔 been broke 📉 so many times ⏰ i don’t know 🤔 what to believe 💯 mama 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 said 🗣 it’s my fault 😢 it’s my fault 🤦🏻‍♂️i wear my heart ❤️ on my sleeve 💪 i think it’s best 👍🏻 I put my heart ❤️ on ice 🧊

jenojam commented:

why am I not surprised……

itsmebetch replied: just mark thingz 🍉

suhprisemf commented:

mark your head looks flat af

jungjaeprince replied: 😂😂😂

10vely replied: @ jungjaeprince be quiet don’t cry

letswonwon commented:

whoop whoop

junguwu commented:

OMG CONGRATS ON YOUR RELATIONSHIP SWEETIE 😍😍

takoyaki_prince commented:

MARK!!!!! you look handsome !! 😘

jisungpwark commented:

rip to @ donutkillmyvibe ’s future videos that mark will ruin. press f in the chat to pay respects 🙏🏻

bigheadking replied: F ✊🏻😔

peachyangel replied: f 🥺🥺

yoitslucas replied: F 🤪🤪🤪 but glad you’re happy, man ❤️

donutkillmyvibe replied: F 💔

morklyrawr replied: @ donutkillmyvibe wtf babe????

officialgordonramsay commented:

didn’t i tell you to get back on tinder ?

apado_god commented:

nice 😎👍🏻

[reliquiaen]

@indiacater said: I totally feel you on the story. It really felt that they couldn’t balance between the world the already established and the Sci fi elements they added. That includes the direction they took in the burning shores dlc. What issues did you have with the game story?

Hope this pings you! I'm still musing my way through my thoughts on everything, so please excuse this for being a bit all over the place. Below cut for spoilers (on the assumption that there are people like me who avoided spoilers until it came to pc).

Part of it is probably that HZD was such a tightly wound story from start to finish that unravelled the more you explored. The world-building, the history of the world, Aloy's personal journey, Elisabet's journey, the way the different tribes viewed things; all of those things were so excellently tied together through the central narrative. I think, for me, the story of HZD is one of the best in gaming. Everything links to everything else. And it left us with two or three threads that needed resolution in a sequel: what was Sylens' plan with HADES, how can GAIA be reinstalled, and where did the signal come from that woke HADES and the other subfunctions.

Ultimately, I think, the biggest problem I have with the story in HFW is that all of these answers are resolved in the first hour or so. All the problems are brought to an end in the first act, at the very least. Nothing felt as carefully crafted or purposeful in this game. And we will never know all the things HADES told Sylens because he never tells us anything unless we already know it, so any information that Sylens has going forward can just be handwaved as 'HADES told him before he died' which I dislike. (It reminds me of how I felt when Eragon killed the Ra'Zac in the first 50 pages of the final book. All that build up and for what? A fizzle.)

The prologue/tutorial section has us exploring a facility for a new company which could be easily explained as Aloy trying to find clues about GAIA as she says in the game, but right away there's a little too much development given to this company for them to be a throw away tutorial area. Equally, there's much less of us discovering things through gameplay alongside Aloy; when Varl asks what happened to the ship, Aloy just tells us that it exploded, we see none of the clues or data points that led her to this conclusion so it's not a reward for us. Which, sure, is probably intended to mislead us into believing that there's nothing too important about Far Zenith and this is only a tutorial right, so why am I being so nitpicky about it. But from the moment when we learn in the tutorial that this Far Zenith company launched a ship of billionaires into space to avoid the plague I was thinking 'please don't let them come back, that would ruin so much of the message in the first game'. And in the back of my mind I was thinking that they would almost certainly be alive still, and the villains in this game and, maybe it's personal preference, but I just really hated that idea. It seemed so trite, so much like the writers didn't know where to take the story. (And I can tell you what they should've done instead of arrogant space people, it's very simple: a tribe that isn't afraid of Old Ones tech fiddled with something they shouldn't have and it launched some kind of failsafe code - probably developed by Ted - that disrupted GAIA's functions. Then it's more a problem of how to educate the tribes on how to deal with Old Ones tech. But that's too obvious I guess, even if Sylens' character did set it up perfectly.)

They did double down on this with Ted Faro, too, which I hated. Especially since it all happened off-screen. The idea that some people figured out immortality (and we never do get any information on how the Zeniths achieved immortality, I feel like that's something Sylens would have immediately looked for) and that Ted Faro was still alive (somehow) but in the Came Back Wrong kind of way... Just annoyed me. Just let everyone from the past be dead, that was the whole point of the first game. I also didn't really like how Ted Faro was handled in this game. In HZD he had a bit more nuance, the whole point of his company was that he wanted to save lives by automating certain dangerous things (namely, conflict) and yes you can make the argument that he's just a glorified arms dealer, but FAS developed the Focus too and presumably a bunch of other quality of life technologies. And even with his pretty stupid decision to purge APOLLO, there's logic there. Aloy says he did it to hide his poor decisions, but he says his reasons for it in HZD: that their civilisation made big mistakes and destroyed the world so instead of giving future civilisations the tools to make those same mistakes, let them have a fresh start. Purging APOLLO was still a bad decision, because of all the other stuff it got rid of, but I can see where he was coming from. But in this he was sort of... reduced... all the way down to a comically evil Saturday morning cartoon villain. Of course he has a secret bunker with a big statue of himself and a harem and a personal doctor developing immortality treatment for him. Duh. He's a Bad Guy™.

The bait-and-switch villain arc of Tilda made no sense, either. It was never going to make sense for any of the Zeniths to survive because they'd never be able to live comfortably in the civilisations on earth, they were always going to have to die. So her whole 'yeah I'm on your side now' never felt genuine. From the second she saved Aloy in that cauldron, I was thinking 'okay she's the final boss now' and, to be clear, I'm not against stories being predictable based on contextual clues. I prefer it, in fact, the issue I have is that these particular clues were heavy handed and the addition of the Zeniths made no sense. It felt a lot like the writers felt they'd written themselves into a corner and needed a way out, or they couldn't figure out how to set up a third game and wanted a way to up the ante even further. Which is another writing device that annoys me, personally, it always makes me think of Dragonball Z and how every villain has to pose a greater threat than the last one, somehow. But in Horizon's case, HADES threatened all of existence, so how do you up the threat further from that? Well you need to keep threatening all of existence, so what could possibly do that?

It just made the story far more complicated than it needed to be and, I feel, undermined the world-building they did with all thesse different cultures. I can't stop thinking that a better challenge to finding GAIA, and a threat against her success, would've been a very simple one: that a tribe plugged in some Old Ones tech and launched GAIA then decided she was a goddess worth worshipping and refused to give her up to Aloy. A conflict against a tribe protecting their deity while the world crumbles around us is STILL a threat to all life on earth while not involving space idiots.

That said, it is mostly the over-arching story that I have issues with. Aloy's character arc was really good; she needed to learn to rely on others when her whole life the only person she's been able to rely on is herself. Great next plot for her. And I think the set up from the end of this game (and, to some extent, the dlc) about her needing to understand emotion and feel something for people as individuals is GREAT also and if we don't get that I'm going to be mad. Because the set up is RIGHT THERE, Elisabet had to teach GAIA to have empathy and care about life and now GAIA has to teach Aloy that life isn't something you just save, you have to participate in it also. What a fantastic cycle! Give me this!

I really liked Erend's story, too, it moved him through to a new point in his character development without changing his personality or putting him in a position where no further growth is required. I enjoyed Alva's character, it's always nice to see characters who are challenged on a fundamental level. I hope we get more of the Quen in future. My favourite new character was Kotallo. I have no notes for that man, he's flawless. I'm looking forward to seeing more of him in a third game more than almost anything else. I don't have a problem with Beta, but I do have questions, namely: where did they get Elisabet's DNA? Tilda would've been an interesting answer, but only if explored properly. Or theft again, Far Zenith has a habit of that. I suspect this will never be addressed again. I also wanted to know how come GAIA only ever made a single clone of Elisabet. Why is Aloy the only one? How come she didn't get every functioning cradle to create a clone just in case?

Zo was a fine addition, but I have problems with her story with Varl, specifically. And it again ties back into my problems with Zenith. I like Zo, I like that we got one representative from each culture so that Aloy (and the player) could learn more about each culture in a controlled way without it feeling too contrived. And I really liked that Varl got a girlfriend, he's great, and it's so fun seeing them together because they're fundamentally quite different but they have a few areas of commonality and I do so love when relationships are built on stuff like that. My problem is that Varl was killed in the way he was; I understand that there have to be stakes, we need to see the Zeniths as a threat. But at that point, we already knew that. So his sacrifice served no narrative purpose, it was almost a shock-value thing. It was 'oh we have to kill at least one main character and the only characters the players are likely to care about other than Aloy are Varl and Erend so one of them has to go'. But Erend is our connection to the Oseram, so we can't get rid of him, bye, Varl. Which isn't to say his death is meaningless, I suppose, and it was in character for him to do what he did, it just felt wrong timing-wise. If someone was going to be killed by the Zeniths it should've happened earlier. But then Zo probably couldn't be pregnant and I never know how I feel about convenient pregnancy arcs. Time will probably tell, with this one, but my immediate gut reaction is vague annoyance.

Also, HEPHAESTUS is free again. Jesus, put that guy in a jar already. So, again, it feels like Varl's death was meaningless in that way. And, sure, yeah, sometimes you die for nothing. But there's a right way to do it and a wrong way. When Jorge dies in Halo Reach, he dies thinking he's stopped an invasion and you watch him do it assuming that this is the biggest hurdle dealt with, now it's a ground force game. But then the rest of the fleet arrives and it's like. Oh. Jorge died and for what? But Jorge didn't know that. Carter says Jorge died thinking he'd saved Reach, if only they were all so lucky. Varl dies and he doesn't have any reason to believe they'll defeat the Zeniths, he hasn't fulfilled any particular purpose, he didn't die for a reason. If he'd died and Aloy had escaped with GAIA and HEPHAESTUS but the Zeniths had gotten Beta back (or vice versa), then I would've been okay with it. But he just dies. No heroics, no resolution to his arc, no final impact for Aloy. He's just dead now. And Aloy doesn't even get to mourn him. The burial thing with Zo is nice, and on par with what we got for Rost in HZD, I suppose, but at least Rost died for something. Varl just dies. I cannot get over that.

I did really enjoy all of the new cultures we met, though. The Utaru and Tenakth were more of the same expected stuff, but the Quen were really cool, I like them a lot as a concept. Partly because right from the start I've been wondering what would happen if a tribe wasn't afraid of Old Ones tech and instead tried to utilise it. The Quen show us what that is and they are such a cool culture. A little glance into a perversion of our modern culture, the way misrepresentation of information and PR stuff can shape the view of someone but on a truly extreme level. They're fun, I like the Quen, I want more of them. I never enjoy when a quest objective says 'kill' though. I would love if the game allowed me to override machiens to solve problems, or stealth past a bunch of enemies, I wanted to avoid killing the Quen because they did warn Aloy not to interfere, she had no problem with them. But I guess then dialogue would have to be able to vary too much idk.

And then, finally, the whole thing with Nemesis at the end. It comes back to the Dragonball Z thing where every threat has to be greater than the last. Nemesis doesn't want to just destroy life, it wants to destroy earth. But why? I don't understand. The set up for that was that I hates the Zeniths, but the Zeniths are all dead, so why would it have beef with earth? I can think of a few things that will happen with Nemesis but I'm not sure I like any of them. It'll be that Nemesis doesn't hate the Zeniths, actually, it hates freedom and life and choice and stuff like that so it's going to become some Galactus style villain that just wants to consume planets because now life anywhere is banned. And you just know there won't be some kind of creative solution where actually Nemesis is handled with the power of friendship and is given space on earth to change. It'll be a Classic Villain, evil for the sake of having a villain, with practically no nuance and no room for development. Which sucks, because coming up with a story where Nemesis learns to value its existence would be a cool parallel with Beta - both born from the arrogance and disdain of the rich elite Zeniths and both having to find meaning in the existence given them. But it would also be a cool way to give Aloy's personal journey a bit more oomph. Instead of having her solve problems through violence and killing, this time she has to overcome it some other way. That'd be fun. I won't hold my breath, though.

I have some other thoughts going on as well: not sure how I feel about Elisabet and Aloy both being queer, I hope that's not some kind of 'it's in the DNA' thing going on. Not sure how I feel about the "choices" we get to make in the game; Drakka or Yarra, does Regalla live or die, do you kiss Seyka or not. Well, which choice is canon? There is only going to be one correct answer for each going into the third game, we know that because regardless of whether you played the Frozen Wilds dlc, Gildun is there and Aloy speaks like you definitely met him previously. It doesn't matter if you did Petra's side quest in the HZD base game, you still talk like you're besties. I hope they get rid of these choices altogether in the third game, they don't feel meaningful in any way.

So overall, I like the characters and world-building, but the addition of the Zeniths made the overarching story feel... not great. Personally, I feel they do a disservice to the rest of the post-apocalypse earth civilisations we had going on. I wanted more of that to be focused on but instead we got... them.

Well I finished Horizon Forbidden West (dlc included) today. The quality of life improvements were very good, I have absolutely abused the bottomless storage space. Not sure how I feel about the story though. I have... issues with it.