#fan to fan sharing of files is like nothing else

[lou-struck]

Unlucky in Love

Izuku Midoriya x reader

~After a run in with an interesting quirk user, Izuku worries that his first date with you will take a turn for the unlucky

W.C. 3k

Warnings: Mention of injuries including blood and burns, general bad luck, superstitions and confirmation biases at play.

a/n: This is a WIP I started awhile back for the @pixelcafe-network Challenge Friday # 10. Finishing this project has been such a joy.

The sound of crackling air whooshes through Izuku’s fluffy green hair as he propels himself through the narrow sidestreets, chasing the black and white haired villain known to the public as ‘Poker Face’, who had tried to hold up an armored bank car with the razor sharp playing cards he can pull from his skin. 

“Oi, stay on him Deku,” Bakugou’s voice roars through his best friend's intercom, “I’ll cut through the park. We need to cut this extra off before he tries to do another damn magic trick.”

“Actually, it’s not magic Kacchan,” the freckled man corrects, swinging his body around the corner, hot on the man's heels. “He actually uses a trick called Card Manipulation. It involves distraction and sleight of hand maneuvers to~”

“I DON’T CARE ABOUT THE DAMN MAGICIAN YOU NERD.” His friend screams into the earpiece, causing the hero to flinch slightly midair.

“Right….Sorry.” he sighs, continuing his chase. In the back of his mind, however, he wonders if you would appreciate his little fun facts if he brought them up on your date tonight. 

Your first date.

Which he can’t clock out for until this villain is apprehended. 

The villain’s speed, although impressive, seems to be for nothing, as they trip over every obstacle, growing increasingly out of breath until they find themselves trapped in an alley with nowhere to go. 

“Stop right there,” Izuku says, his thick-soled boots hitting the ground as he reaches for the quirk-cancelling handcuffs on his utility belt. “There is nowhere else to go, and those cards of yours can’t cut through concrete.” 

The man stops, meeting Izuku’s eyes for the first time. His mismatched irises resemble the club and diamond card suits. In defeat, he raises his hands in the air. “You got me, it looks like I busted.”

Not really a poker player, Izuku is not a fan of the villain's pun and steps over to cuff him. “Are you aware of your rights?” he asks as Katsuki lands behind him.

“Of course he does,” the blond sneers, “This isn't his first time being caught.”

“Right you are Dynamite,” the villain laughs, “I thought I could get away clean this time, but I guess luck wasn't on my side today. But at least your friend will know what that feels like.”

“What the Hell~” he starts to say, but before he can react, Poker Face’s uncuffed wrist glows red as it brushes against Izuku’s scarred palm with a small shock of static electricity.

The sensation is harmless, but nevertheless, the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he shrugs off the strange feeling, to finish clicking the cuffs around his tattooed wrists. 

“What was that?” he asks the now incapacitated villain, keeping his voice as steady as he can.

His friend, however, reacts far more worriedly. “What the hell did you just hit him with?” 

“Oh nothing much,” Poker Face laughs cruelly. “I just shared some of my luck with him. I hope Hero, that you don't have anything important to do after your shift today.”

“You’re bluffing,” Izuku says with a shake of his head. As he escorts the troublesome criminal to the awaiting law enforcement, he recalls every detail of his profile. “Your quirk can’t do that.”

“Says who?” he grins, flashing his mouth of golden teeth. “My file? You never are supposed to show your hand in games like these.”

“It’s not a game,” he says, more to himself than the villain currently being loaded up and crated off to the station. The cruel laughter mocks him, and it echoes through his ears long after he leaves.

Starting off into the distance, worry snakes its way into his gut as a hand rests on his shoulder. “You sure you’re feelin okay?” Bakugou asks, “Y/n would get it if you had to reschedule.” 

Reschedule? Rescheduling is the last thing on his mind right now. Getting this first date with you was like a dream come true, he would hate to cancel on you last minute and potentially ruin his chance with you before it really began. “No, I’m fine,” he says firmly, shaking his head. “I read his file earlier. His quirk had nothing to do with Luck Transference. He was just trying to psych me out.”

“That jerk, trying to play pathetic mind games when he’s trapped in a corner.” the blond tsks, clenching his fists. As if on cue, his pager begins to go off with another distress call. “I gotta go and back up Icy Hot. You should clock out before you are sent on another call.”

Now alone, Izuku stares down at the ground, spotting a dingy-looking coin on the asphalt, tails up.

~

Bad Luck is not something that can be transferred between people. 

Or at least, that’s what Izuku thought when he woke up this morning. Now he isn't sure. 

Since clocking out at his agency, he has managed to hit every red light in the city, shatter the screen of his phone, and snap the aglets on the laces of his favorite red sneakers only noticing once he looked down and saw the frayed laces soaking up the remnants of a foul-smelling puddle on the sidewalk. 

Now changed, Izuku nervously loosens the button on his dress shirt as he walks into a small family-owned flower shop to get you a bouquet of your favorites. The fresh smell and cool, misty air calms him, making him forget about the possible jinx that was placed on him earlier. 

Big Mistake.

~

On a shaded bench outside the cozy bistro you are supposed to be having dinner at, you check your phone for the tenth time in ninety seconds. The lack of notifications makes you feel nauseous as you look around at all of the couples checking in at the hostess stand. 

He’s late

Or maybe, he’s not coming. 

Your friends warned you about dating Pro Heroes, even ones who appear to be as sweet and humble as Izuku Midoriya could rip out your heart and crush it in favor of their own image. You don’t want them to be right, but your reservation was set for thirty minutes ago.

You’ve been stood up before and would rather go home and cover yourself in blankets than wait out here all night, getting bitten by mosquitoes and being subjected to the pitying looks from the waitstaff. 

You are just about to leave when the smell of smoke wafts under your nose. “Wait,” a voice calls from down the sidewalk. Your head snaps toward the familiar sound and you can’t believe your eyes. Izuku’s hair is wild and slightly charred at the ends as he sprints toward you with a smoldering bundle in his hands. He slides to a stop right in front of you, drawing more than a couple of stares. “I’m here.” he breathes with flushed cheeks. “I’m so sorry I was late.”

Stunned by the sight in front of you, all those words you had prepared to say to him go up in smoke. “What happened to you?”

His green eyes travel down to the crispy bundle of paper and kindling in his left hand. “I had left early to get you flowers but on my way out I ran into Shoto fighting off a villain with some kind of hairspray quirk. I tried to help get some civilians out of the way of a blast but got a bit singed in the process. I’m really sorry, y/n. I hope you ” As far as excuses go, his would sound ridiculous if you didn't have the evidence right in front of you.

“Oh, I’m glad to see that you’re okay,” you say, taking a closer look at what was supposed to be your flowers. Sure enough, you can see a few unburnt buds of fragrant lavender mixed in the paper. The sight of one of your favorites makes your heart rate quicken. “I can’t believe you remembered how much I like Lavender. I’m sure they were beautiful.”

“They were,” he sighs, dropping the ruined flowers into a metal trash can. “I’ll get you some new ones, I promise.”

“After dinner?” you smile, boldly taking his hand. After everything that he has gone through today, there is no way you can hold his tardiness against him. 

His freckled face flushes crimson as he walks up to the hostess stand and clears his throat. “Reservation for 2, Under Midoriya.”

The hostess glances briefly at her tablet and rolls her eyes. “You had a reservation at 6:30. It’s 7:02. We have a strict policy for lateness, even for heroes.”

“But~” he starts to say but you gently squeeze his hand and step closer to the stand. Hoping to catch some flies with honey instead of vinegar. 

“I know we were late, but he really did catch on fire,” you say, kindly looking the woman in her eyes. “Is there any way, you would be able to help us out?” 

Drunk on the power of being the hostess at one of the newest and most exclusive restaurants in the city, the hostess laughs in your face. “Absolutely not. Now move, you’re holding up the line for people who actually cared to be on time.”

After getting practically shoved out of line, Izuku looks at you dejectedly. “I am so sorry y/n. I know how much you wanted to try that restaurant out. If I were on time, we could’ve made our reservation.”

“It’s just a restaurant,” you shrug. “If you still want to get something to eat, I know there is a festival in the park with lots of vendors. We could go there instead?”

His features brighten up, “Wait, you really still want to hang out with me? Even after I was late and ruined our dinner plans.”

“Why wouldn't I?” you ask starting off toward the park. “The late afternoon sun hits the trees, setting the vibrant green leaves alight. As beautiful as that particular shade of green is, you notice that you find yourself appreciating the shade of his eyes just a bit more. “It’s a nice night. Maybe missing the reservation was a sign for us to enjoy the outdoors.”

“That’s true,” he laughs, looking up at the sky like he hasn’t gotten to enjoy it in a while. The slight breeze tickles your faces as he sighs blissfully. “The clouds are pretty.”

No sooner did those words leave his mouth when the wind changes, hitting the two of you with cold, heavy gusts of air. Thunder echoes through the park as the once-stunning evening is snuffed out by heavy, ebony clouds full of rain. 

Izuku stiffens, “I jinxed it, didn't I?” he mumbles. Rain begins to fall on the path behind you, the drops getting closer and closer as the clouds move over your heads. He takes your hand, snapping into hero mode. “Come on, let's go take shelter under that gazebo over there.”

He points at a picture perfect white trimmed gazebo off in the distance waiting for your nod before he pulls you in its direction. 

Taking off in a run, you find yourself laughing at this cliche moment. “This is kinda fun,” you yell above the whistling wind.

“Y-yeah.” he turns and looks back at you with a relieved smile. The rain soaks through his green hair causing it to darken and cling to his face. His beauty stuns you just for a moment and you take your eyes briefly off the ground in front of you. You only make it a few steps before you lose your footing on a shallow curb, pulling both of you into the beginnings of a puddle with more of a splat than a splash. 

Your cheeks burn in humiliation as you look at your soaked clothes. “I’m so sorry,” you say ignoring the stinging sensation in your knee as you try to help him to his feet. “I tripped and~”

“You’re hurt,” he interrupts in a soft voice, instantly eyeing the rip on your knee and the exposed scrapes. “It looks bad, it could get infected if we don’t clean it soon. I don’t live too far from here, I have a first aid kit we can use.”

“I’m okay, really.” you lie through your teeth. In all honesty, you are close to tears, but crying in front of your date is one of the most uncool things you could do. The last thing you want to do is act like the kind of clingy civilians he has to save every day. “The fall was more embarrassing than painful.”

“Y/n,” he says your name with so much care, you feel your resolve weakening. There is something in his gaze that you can’t quite place. He isn't pitying you, in fact, he almost looks guilty. “Please let me help you. I could at least give you a dry change of clothes.”

Glancing down at your waterlogged shoes and socks, you do feel disgusting, maybe stopping at his place would be a good thing. You nod and take his outstretched hand. 

The natural warmth radiating from him is a sign that you are making the right decision. 

~

For a single guy living alone in his twenties, Izuku certainly has a nice apartment. Instead of the filthy kitchen and a beer-stained sofa you have seen in the homes of other guys his age, you find a fully-furnished, well-maintained home. 

“Nice place you got here,” you say as he returns from the bathroom, a large white first aid kit tucked under his arm as he crouches in front of your spot on the countertop. “It’s really clean.”

“Thank you,” he says, his ears turning pink from the slight praise. “I had no idea where to start when I moved out so my mother was a big help when it came to picking out things that went together.”

“She sounds amazing,” you say watching as he flips through the box of medical supplies. “I’m really sorry for this, I could’ve fallen a bit more gracefully.”

He stops, that guilty look in his eye from earlier is back in full force as he sprays some disinfectant on a cottonball. “I’m the one who should be sorry. Tonight was all my fault.”

“What do you mean?” you ask wincing slightly as he treats your scraped knee. “It’s not like you could control the weather, or when villains decide to attack.”

“No, I can’t.” he shakes his head. “But I am the reason why tonight has gone wrong. I caught a case of bad luck.”

“Excuse me?” you say, feeling more than a bit confused by his words. 

“There was a villain,” he begins, grabbing a handful of All Might-patterned bandages from the bottom of the case. “I had chased him down and was handcuffing him when he did something weird. He kinda shocked me with his finger and said that he had transferred all of his bad luck to me with his quirk.”

“That’s a real quirk?” you ask, more intrigued by the concept than worried about the results. “I’ve never heard of someone having one like that.”

“Me neither,” he exclaims, excited by the prospect.  “I had looked in his file a dozen times, but no one had ever recorded him having that kind of power. The concept of Luck is so abstract that I don’t think it’s possible for one to be able to manipulate it in a biological manner so I tried to ignore it.”

“Do you think he was messing with you then?” you ask, loving his fan-boy nature. You bet that if you gave him the chance, he would talk about quirks and their potential all night long. Something about the mental image of his tired rambling makes your chest flutter.

Putting his hand to his chin, deep in thought, he continues. “I thought so, but then everything started to go wrong. I missed our reservation, we got caught in the rain, you got hurt, and there are a dozen other things that have happened since then.” 

“I see, but is it possible that these things would’ve happened anyway?” you ask admiring his careful handiwork. “Maybe it was just one of those days.”

“Maybe, but still.” he sighs deeply and looks up at you with sincerity. "I know tonight has been a disaster. But I really do like you, and if you give me another chance I~” 

"But Izuku, that's just not true,” you object, placing your hand on his arm before he pulls away. “I got to spend the entire evening with you. I call that a success."

“But the rain, the reservations, my phone,” he stammers. “Nothing has gone to plan.”

“That’s true, but that just means we got to make new plans.” you smile taking in his cozy living room. “Since that rain doesn't seem to be stopping anytime soon, how about we watch a movie?”

“I’d like that a lot,” he says instantly, springing up like he had just won the lottery. “I can order us some takeout if you want to change into something dry.”

You look down, realizing that you are still soaked to the bone. But he has made you feel so warm and fuzzy inside you didn't mind. Despite the rough start to the first date, things are working out just fine. 

No, better than fine.

~

An hour later the two of you are curled up comfortably on Izuku’s couch, your bellies full and your limbs intertwined like they were made for each other. The rain outside continues to pour, but neither of you really seems to care.

With your head resting on his broad chest, the green-haired man can't help but wonder if one could really call this bad luck.

Tagging: @pixelcafe-network @sleepyyshroom @isaacdaknight @qardasngan @dog55teeth @atigerandabear

[countrymusicandcher]

Proof that Kate & Anna McGarrigle fans are different:

A guy cintacts me on an online forum. He wants help figuring out how to share some files of McGarrigle live recordings he has lying around. After some back and forth we agree he upload to We transfer and send me a link. So he does, saying "here's the first bunch". I click, expecting anywhere between 10 and 50 tracks from one of two occasions.

But NO

THIS GUY SENT ME 307 INDIVIDUAL TRACKs FROM AT LEAST A DOZEN DIFFERENT PERFORMANCES.

And this is "the first half" wtf!?

[starkeymeow]

rafe with siblingpack!pogue!reader . . .

he would hear you say “my brother” a lot.

you’d toss it into conversations like it meant nothing, like “my brother borrowed my charger again” or “my brother said that movie was mid.”

but it was always a different brother. rafe started noticing that.

one night, while driving back from a late-night gas station run, he finally asked, “how many siblings do you actually have?”

you shrugged like it was no big deal. “six. well, technically seven, including me.” and he almost drove off the road.

he didn’t say anything right away. he just filed it away.

six siblings. six people who share your childhood, your last name, your house. six people who have stories he doesn’t know. six chances to screw this up.

later, he joked about it. said stuff like, “you hiding me from your family?”

and you told him straight-faced, “no. i’m hiding them from you.” and he laughed, but deep down he knew you’re not totally kidding.

it wasn’t that he didn’t want to meet them. it’s just, he didn’t want to lose before he even got the chance to prove himself.

the first time he dropped you off at your house, he saw the shadows through the window.

someone was pacing the hallway. someone else was on the porch barefoot, eating cereal out of a mixing bowl. the porch light flickered. music was playing. someone was shouting from upstairs.

you leaned against his truck door, thumb tracing a chip in the paint, and said, “you don’t have to come in.”

and he knew what you mean. not just tonight. but in general.

you don’t have to see all this. you don’t have to see the unfiltered version of me. but he wanted to. it’s just, he wanted to deserve it first.

you thought about bringing him home, yeah. more than once. usually late at night, when he’s driving with one hand on the wheel and the other on the back of your neck like it's instinct. when the roads are empty and he’s looking at you like he’s still trying to figure you out.

he’ll ask little things: what your house is like, why you never bring anyone around, and you always dodge it, joke your way through.

truth is, you didn’t think he’d want to see it.

even if he asked.

but then today happens. you were supposed to run to the gas station and grab milk. you were hungry. he was already with you. cole had texted some passive-aggressive version of ‘get here before someone eats the rest of the pasta’ and the sun was already going down.

so you said, screw it.

and now, here you are.

you don't even need to knock. the door's unlocked, like always. probably wide open all day. you walk in first, and rafe follows, just a step behind, slow, cautious in the way you never really see from him. like he’s entering a space he shouldn’t be allowed in.

the house smells like cheap candles, burnt toast, and whatever jude poured down the sink last night. the tv’s on so loud the floor vibrates. somewhere in the distance, a door slams and someone yells ‘get the hell out of my room’ in a voice you can’t place yet. might be cole, might be a feral animal.

rafe pauses just past the threshold.

“this a bad idea?” he murmurs, voice quiet but right in your ear.

you glance at him, try not to wince. “kind of.”

he huffs a small laugh, but doesn’t press.

you kick your shoes off automatically, sidestepping a pair of muddy cleats that definitely weren’t there this morning. a small blur zips past your legs, barefoot, wearing a black hoodie and something strapped to his head with duct tape. he’s muttering something about ‘operational recon’ as he disappears around the corner.

“rowan’s in mission mode again,” you mutter.

“jesus,” rafe says under his breath, eyebrows raised. “how many are here again?”

you just wave him in further. the living room is barely holding itself together. a pile of laundry sits half-folded on the armchair, and someone’s hoodie is draped over the ceiling fan cord like a noose. jude is sprawled on the floor like a corpse, watching the tv upside down, arms flung wide, one sock on. next to him, kit’s curled into the couch, hoodie zipped all the way up, knees tucked under her chin.

neither of them looks up.

you clear your throat as you step over an open bag of chips someone clearly gave up on.

“kit. jude. maybe try pretending we have manners.”

kit looks up first. her eyes land on rafe and immediately narrow like she’s scanning him for weak points. she’s got that look she always gets when you bring someone new around. mostly bored, mildly suspicious, like this is all taking time away from her personal agenda of doing nothing.

“you brought someone?” she says, raising a brow. “thought you were still in your antisocial era.”

“she is,” jude mutters, not taking his eyes off the screen. “she just wants someone to suffer with her.”

“true love,” kit says flatly. “so romantic.”

rafe glances between the two of them, then back at you. you catch the faint twitch of a smirk, but he doesn’t say anything yet.

“kit, jude,” you start, tilting your head toward him, “this is rafe.”

“cameron?” jude pipes up, finally looking over. “like . . . that cameron?”

“no,” you say. “a different one with the same face, voice, and trust fund.”

rafe gives him a polite nod. “hey.”

kit stares for another beat before her mouth lifts slightly. “ballsy move, bringing tannyhill into this dump.”

“it’s not that bad,” you argue, but even as you say it, a dog barks in the distance and something clatters in the kitchen.

jude shrugs. “i give him ten minutes before he bails.”

“you want a timer?” rafe asks, tone dry.

“ohhh,” jude grins. “he’s got jokes.”

before you can even roll your eyes, another crash comes from the kitchen, followed by the unmistakable voice of cole yelling “i said don’t fucking touch that!” and nadia snapping something right back, sharper, quieter, way more terrifying.

you walk toward the noise and gesture for rafe to follow. he does, weaving past the wreckage of backpacks and tangled shoes by the hall.

in the kitchen, cole’s leaned against the counter in a faded white tee, sipping a beer like it’s the only thing anchoring him to the ground. nadia’s across from him, arms crossed tight, face set like stone. there’s a pot boiling on the stove and something singed on the burner beside it.

cole eyes rafe as soon as you walk in. no hello. no smile. just a squint.

“we picking up strays now?”

“do not,” you warn, pointing a finger. “do not start.”

rafe just lifts a hand. “not a stray. came voluntarily.”

“worse,” cole mutters. “means you’re either stupid or into her.”

“definitely stupid,” nadia adds, dryly, without turning around.

you rub a hand over your face. ��rafe, meet cole and nadia. the kitchen trolls.”

“i’m not a troll,” cole says. “i’m the cook.”

nadia turns to rafe with a sigh and a faint smile. “sorry in advance. he’s only here because he ran out of beer at his place.”

“false,” cole says, gesturing with the bottle. “i brought this.”

“that’s expired,” she fires back.

“so’s my patience.”

“anyway,” you cut in before they start again. “we’re just here for a second.”

“sure,” nadia says, though her eyes flick back to rafe. not judgmental. just reading him.

then rowan reappears, making a dramatic dive-roll across the linoleum, blanket cape flapping. he skids into the cabinets, hops up, and shouts, “agent deployed!” before vanishing again.

rafe blinks.

“what the hell?”

“that’s rowan,” you sigh. “he thinks he’s in a war movie.”

“he’s eight,” cole adds helpfully. “don’t feed him. don’t look him in the eye. he’s fine.”

you glance at rafe again, just to check. he doesn’t look freaked out. he looks . . . kind of amused, actually. like he’s genuinely curious about how this turned into your life.

you lean a little closer.

“still wanna be here?”

he shrugs, small smile playing at his lips.

“figured it’d be worse.”

“worse?” you echo.

“yeah,” he says. “like, knives flying. yelling. exorcisms. this is just . . . messy.”

you snort. “give it time.”

but when you look back at him, standing in the middle of the chaos, arms relaxed, not checking the door, you think maybe he can handle it after all. maybe he already is.

a/n: me when i rewatch shameless LOL but yea this wont be a series but maybe ill write headcanons or blurbs here n there with rafe & reader who just has a bunch of siblings in the cut. also yes ik i said 6 siblings and only introduced 5, the 6th is away from home rn !! we’ll get to her another time idk, lmk if u want a brief rundown on ur new fictional siblings maybe

@nicholaschavezslut69 @iissza @snowtargaryen @yootvi @ariiwritess @spideysimpossiblegirl @skyslowalking @adribarbie @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @0-tatiana-0 @beebeerockknot @rafestar @adribarbie @drewstarkeyzwhore @drewsephrry @annaconscience @writtenbyhollywood @yourtypicalteenagegirl @daisydark @v4mpscrms

[bruisedboys]

swan lake — sejanus plinth

sejanus harbours an aching crush for you, a head-in-the-clouds, daydreamer, covey girl from district 12. he’s determined to show you how he feels before you get swept up by some other guy, though it’s difficult when your head is seemingly stuck in the clouds. requested here

note: um hiii my hunger games obsession (and therefore sejanus obsession) is back after finishing sotr… this fic is for me and the 3 other sejanus fans on here (the rest of you come out of hiding please)

peacekeeper!sejanus x covey!reader, 1.5k words

Sejanus has been about as obvious as a guy can be about his feelings for you, and still, you’re yet to catch on. It’s not that you’re dumb. If anything, you’re a lot smarter than him. You write music like nothing else he’s ever heard, like sunlight spun into lyrics, and half of the words you use in them he doesn’t even understand.

As smart as you are, you’ve constantly got your head in the clouds. You’re not a ditz, but you’re always daydreaming about something or other, and you don’t tend to come down from the clouds often. Because of this, you’ve been completely oblivious to his advances.

You don’t seem to notice that he’s flirting when he does, and though you’ve accepted his flowers and pretty hair ribbons with a bashful smile, he’s seen you give the same smile to guys at the Hob after one of your performances with the Covey band.

Despite himself, Sejanus has continued to try. Today he’s managed to get the morning off from his Peacekeeper duties, and he’s not going to waste it. He’s already been to the markets to spend most of his money for the week on something for you. He knows the path to your meadow like the back of his hand. It’s not far from your place, your Covey don’t like you to stray too far.

You’re exactly where he’s expecting you to be when he gets there. Right at the edge of the pond, knee deep in the tall grass, squatting to feed the ducks. They’ve just had ducklings about a week ago, and you’re enamoured by them.

“Don’t be frightened, little ducks,” you’re saying in your lovely soft voice, as Sejanus approaches from behind. He tries to be quiet, so as not to startle you or your gaggle of ducks. There’s two adult ones, and four tiny fluffy ones, all crowded around your hand, which is filled with what looks like bits of stale cracker.

As Sejanus gets closer, he accidentally steps on a branch and it snaps, breaking the silence. One of the adult ducks spots him, gives a loud quack, and they all take off across the pond, the little ones in single file following their parents.

Whoops, Sejanus thinks.

“Hello, Sejanus,” you say knowingly, without turning round. Sejanus has no idea how you know it’s him, but he can’t say he’s surprised.

He watches as you pocket the remains of your crackers and dust your hands off on your flowy skirt, then turn around to face him.

“You scared my ducks,” you say, giving him an indignant look.

He’s well aware. “Sorry. I don’t think they like me.”

You shrug, then lift your skirt, the bottom hem stained with mud, and start wading through the grass towards him. “They would if you sang to them,” you say, like it’s obvious.

Sejanus highly doubts that. “Do you think so?” He asks, indulging you.

“Worked for me,” you say simply, coming to a stop right in front of him. You’re rather close — you tend to do that. He knows you’d give him his space if he cared, but he doesn’t.

“That’s ‘cos you sound like an angel, sweetheart,” he tells you. He’s not sugar-coating it. You really do.

You beam. “Well thanks, handsome,” you say, swaying happily on the spot, your skirts swishing. “What you got there?”

You point to his pocket, where he’s got his hand shoved, keeping your gift out of view.

“It’s a surprise,” he says, dipping his head down towards yours like you’re sharing a secret.

You hum, and lift your chin a bit, like you’re meeting him in the middle. You seem to do it without noticing.

“For me?” You ask hopefully.

Who else? Sejanus thinks. “Maybe,” he says conspiratorially. “You wanna see it?”

You nod eagerly.

“Alright,” he says. “Close your eyes, pretty.”

You do as you’re told, letting your eyes slip shut. Sejanus takes a moment to admire you, your hair tied back from your face with a cream coloured ribbon, your dewy skin, and the way the sun dips you in gold. You’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

“Put your hands out,” he says. You obey.

Sejanus pulls his hand out of his pocket and places a small box wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine in your cupped hands. Your shoulders go up excitedly.

“Okay, you can open ‘em,” he says.

Your eyes fly open and land on the box. “It is really for me?” You ask, practically buzzing, and lift your eyes to meet his.

There’s a look in your eyes that Sejanus doesn’t quite understand, but it makes him nervous anyway. It’s quite often that you make him nervous seemingly without even trying.

He rubs the back of his neck. “Well, yeah,” he says. “‘Course it is. Open it, yeah?”

“Okay,” you say.

Sejanus watches as you open his gift with so much care you’d think he’d spent millions on it. You untie the twine, and that goes into your pocket, along with the brown paper wrapping. Sejanus holds his breath as you lift the lid of the box to reveal a silver heart pendant, engraved with a swan. Your favourite bird.

You go dead silent for a long moment. Sejanus wonders if you hate it.

“Sejanus…” you whisper. You pull the pendant from the box and brush your thumb over the engraved swan, as gentle as if it were a real one. For once, you seem lost for words.

“They didn’t have any chain,” Sejanus explains quickly. “But I thought you could tie it with one of your ribbons. Do you … like it?”

You lift your head, blinking rather rapidly. Sejanus realises with horror that your eyes are shining with tears.

“It’s beautiful,” you say. “I love it.”

Your bottom lip wobbles. Sejanus panics and grabs you.

“Don’t cry,” he says frantically. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him. The box digs into his ribs and you’ve made a fist around the pendant, your knuckles pressing into his chest.

“Sorry,” you gasp.

Sejanus frowns. He’s happy you like the gift but hates to see you cry. After a moment you come out, pulling your face away from his chest, freeing one hand to scrub at your damp cheeks. You haven’t cried much, only a few tears. You blink up at him, a bit like a doe.

“Sorry,” you say again. “I don’t mean to, but I always cry when I see something beautiful.”

You open up your palm and gaze at the pendant again, as if checking it’s real. Sejanus waits for you to say something else but you don’t.

“So you like it?” He asks tentatively.

You laugh, and it sounds as pretty and as light as birdsong. “Yes. I love it, it’s perfect.”

You squeeze your fist back around the pendant and hold it to your heart. Then you lift your eyes to Sejanus’, giving him this look that makes his heart race.

“Thank you, Sejanus,” you say softly, reverently almost, like he’s one of your wild ducks.

Sejanus feels flowers blooming in his chest as if you’ve put them there and nurtured them. He’s about to wrap you up in his arms again when you say,

“Do you think I could give you something, too?” In this lilting, hopeful tone.

Sejanus blinks. “Yeah, sure, honey.” He can’t imagine what, but you tend to carry a lot of miscellaneous things you’ve foraged in your pockets. A pretty rock, maybe?

“Okay.” You sound almost shy, which is completely new, and trips Sejanus up a bit. He wonders what on earth it is that you’re about to give him. “Close your eyes, then.”

Sejanus does as he’s told. He hears you rustling around in your pocket for a second, before he feels you step closer, the toes of your boots touching his. He smells all your smells, that sweet flowery scent you seem to live in a cloud of, plus the warm vanilla in your hair. Then come your hands, both palms flat on his chest.

“Stay still,” you whisper, and Sejanus startles at how close you sound, your breath actually brushing his lips.

He realises what you’re about to do a second before you do it. Your hands press to his chest for stability and then your mouth lands on his, soft and gentle, but earnest all the same. You kiss him gently, shyly, but with so much warmth it tingles, and you taste like sugar. Sejanus grabs you, hands hot on your waist, and kisses you back.

He forces himself to exercise a bit of restraint so as not to scare you off after the first kiss. When you pull away, you’re flushed, and you won’t look him in the eye, though he thanks you and gives you another kiss on your warm cheek.

You press your palm to the spot he’s kissed, looking as flustered as he’s ever seen you. He’s been a fool, Sejanus realises. You weren’t as oblivious as he thought you were, after all.

[wcnderlnds]

like different stars | choi su-bong (thanos)

・��・ summary: you're a pink guard and find your annoying best friend in the games. ・❥・word count: 1.8k ・❥・warnings: drug mentions, death mentions, lots of swearing because its thanos. ・❥・ authors note: okay, this is a whole series i've been working on for a few days now and i'm hype for it so hopefully everyone enjoys it as much as me!! we in for an idiot best friends to lovers slowburn.

‘The number you have called is currently unavailable. Please try again later.’

With a heavy sigh, you handed your phone over to the guard standing before you for safekeeping. It was pointless anyway. Su-bong wasn’t going to answer but you wished with your whole heart that he would. The last conversation you’d had with him worried you. Things hadn’t been going great for him lately but the way he’d been talking had really concerned you to the point you’d almost considered ditching your duties and sticking with him but you couldn’t. You’d made a promise many years ago and if you didn’t keep it, things wouldn’t end well for you. There was nothing you could do but hope and pray that your best friend was okay. It would only be a week until you could see him again at least.

Security checks to get into the games always took forever but finally you’d made it through, passing them with flying colours. They were very strict about, well, everything. They took your devices, patted you down just in case you were wearing a wire and questioned you for the passcode. Everyone who had taken the job to be a guard was told the code, never to share it with anyone else. It was so they could sniff out anyone who was trying to sneak in. There had been an incident three years ago where someone had disguised themselves as a guard, infiltrating the games. Since then security had been taken up a notch. 

Making your way to your small room, your thoughts couldn’t help but drift back to Su-bong. Hopefully he wasn’t doing anything stupid but knowing him, he probably was. Stupid was his middle name at this point. With a sigh, you pulled on your pink jumpsuit, the mask with the infamous square on it donning your face and you were ready for the games to begin. 

Crowds upon crowds of people filed through the stairs to where all the photo booths stood. This was the calm before the storm. These poor people had no idea what was coming. There was a part of you that felt sorry for them, the urge to almost tell them what was about to happen forefront in your mind. You couldn’t, though. In this place, doing the job you were doing, you had to be strong. Feelings in this place didn’t end well. That’s why whenever you were here you shut down. You became the person that was cold, calculated. Someone that abided by the rules and didn’t feel any remorse. It was the only way to get through. The only way to make this easier on yourself.

A commotion caught your attention, pulling you out of your thoughts. Your eyes glanced over to where it was coming from and instantly your heart plummeted into the pit of your stomach. The room suddenly started spinning, your hand reaching out to the wall to steady yourself. This could not be real. A wave of nausea hit you, the contents of your stomach threatening to resurface as you watched your purple haired best friend surrounded by a group of his fans.

It was no secret that Thanos needed money but how had he ended up in here? When you last spoke to him yesterday, he said he was probably going to try and find a few gigs to earn a bit of cash. His rap career had taken a bit of a downfall when he lost all his money thanks to MG Coin. It had all gone downhill from there. He started taking drugs, acting erratic like he wasn’t even on this planet. It broke your heart to see him so broken but no matter how many times you had tried to help him, he’d always denied it. That was the thing about Thanos; he was stubborn to a fault.

You had to get it together. As a guard, you couldn’t show weakness. Being weak was what got you killed and that was something you refused to let happen. Nobody would catch you slipping. You stood up straight, your heart still feeling like it was at the bottom of your stomach as you watched the scene unfold. You could handle anyone in here but him. If anything ever happened to him….

His voice echoed through your ears asking you if you wanted to be in the picture. Behind your mask, you rolled your eyes before explaining that it was only one person at a time. Making a cross with your arms, he waved everyone else away. He really didn’t give a damn. His face was etched with frown lines, his lips were constantly turned downward. It took all of your strength not to reach out to him and hug him. At that moment, he looked like he needed one. Or maybe you just did. Watching him walk away only made the beating of your heart increase tenfold knowing what he was walking into.

—————

Was he serious?

Your fists clenched at your sides as you watched Thanos pop one of his pills in his mouth from the control room. Eyes fixated on the screen as the dumbass chased his high rather than dealing with what he’d just witnessed. Understandably, watching someone die right in front of you for the first time was traumatic but what was he thinking taking one of those pills in a game like this?

Maybe you were also a little mad at him for flirting with the girl the second he’d laid eyes on her. It wasn’t surprising — he was a flirt, a player but you thought he’d have enough sense to realise nothing about this place was normal. The feeling of jealousy that had bubbled up inside you when you saw it wasn’t new. It happened all the time whenever he spoke of the girls he’d hooked up with. Your blood would boil while your brain would come up with ideas on how to get rid of said girl. It was solely because he was your best friend and you were scared of losing him. That’s all. Besides, he was the same way whenever you flirted with anyone. The amount of fights you’d had to talk him out of due to him being jealous of the guys you’d hooked up with were insane.

You were transfixed as you watched him dancing and jumping around the field. Oh, you were going to kill him. Never mind this place doing it, you’d take it into your own hands. He was really testing your patience. His reckless behaviour was something you’d found amusing in the past but now when his life hung in the balance, you hated it. The exhale you released when he finally jumped over the finish line was loud enough for a couple of other guards to hear. Nobody questioned you, though. The perks of being higher in the ranks. 

During the dinner hour, you made sure you were on duty in the main dormitory. Even if it was against the rules — something you always tried to stick to in here — you needed to talk to Thanos. So, when you caught him heading to the bathroom, you followed. Once you were close enough, you grabbed his collar and pulled him to a secluded corner.

“What the fuck?” He groaned as you pushed him against the wall, his head hitting it. Not hard, he was just dramatic. “What’s your fuckin’ problem, huh?”

“Shut up,” you hissed, pulling your mask off. Thanos’ eyes widened in an almost comical manner. Was he high and imagining you?

“Obviously, I’m dreaming right now. Bet in two seconds you’ll be on your knees su-“ You glared at him almost daring him to finish that sentence. “I’m joking. I’m joking, damn. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here is the better question! Are you out of your mind?” You released your grip on his collar, taking a step back.

“Relax, I’m good. Ain’t nothing I can’t handle, baby. Now, answer my question. Why are you here and wearing that fuckin’ outfit?” His eyes scanned the pink jumpsuit, his fingers pointing at you. He couldnt wrap his mind around the fact you were here let alone as one of the guards. His sweet, caring best friend being one of the people who shot anyone who lost was something he was going to have a hard time accepting.

“…I work here every year. Have been for about five years now. It’s good money and helps keep me afloat. I’m not proud of it, okay? I hate it here, I hate this whole thing but… when an opportunity shows up, you don’t ignore it.” Your mask was held in your hand by your side, eyes glancing down towards it. 

Thanos held his hands up, shrugging his shoulders. “Ain’t judging you. I just pushed three people so if you’re making money by killing people then whatever.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Ah, but it is. Are you or are you not killing people here?”

Your head hung low in shame. It’s true, you were. The money you were earning came at the cost of people’s lives. Thanos reached out, his finger on your chin tilting your head up so your eyes could meet his. The concern in his matched your own. He could be high as a kite but he would always make sure you were okay. In his shitty life, you were the only thing that mattered. The thing that got him through the days.

“I know you know what you’re doing but be careful, you hear me?” His tone was stern, his deep voice causing little flutters in your stomach.

“I should be saying that to you. Don’t go getting yourself killed, Su-bong. I’ll try and help you as much as I can but there’s only so much I can do,” your voice was barely above a whisper as his thumb brushed against your cheek. He’d taken a step closer, his breath fanning across your face. He was a touchy-feely person, he always had been but never before had his touch made you feel like this. You put it down to the situation you were in. The pounding of your heart and the butterflies fluttering in your stomach were nothing more than nerves, obviously.

“Don’t get yourself in trouble for little old me, Senorita. I’ll be fine,” he winked, his signature smirk on his face. “I really need to piss, by the way. You gonna let me go, guard?”

You rolled your eyes, stepping aside. However, before you could pull your mask back on, Thanos pulled you into his chest, one of his hands resting on the back of your head and the other around your body as he hugged you close to him. You could hear his heart pounding against his chest, your own matching his rhythm. As your arms wrapped around him, you couldn’t help but wonder if you both really would make it out of here alive.

taglist (ask to be added!): @ldydeath @justsisse @djarindroid @angelofbooksworld @taivantaylor @sherlocke3d @sassyyoyo @mysatnin @basquiat-top @urmomsg1rlfreind @belladonna-303 @seunghyunwifey

[lomlhwa]

y'know what they say about guitarists (c.s)

pairing: guitarist!san x vocalist!reader

preview: san has watched you flirt with entire crowds. he just wants some of that attention too.

tags/warnings: fem reader, mentions of drummer!mingi, bassist!yunho and stage manager!seonghwa, ONE BED TROPE WHO CHEERED, possessive san, spit play, pet names (good girl, pretty girl, sweet girl), praise, pussy drunk san, dacryphilia, lots of hickeys, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, cockwarming

trigger warnings: n/a

w/c: 2.0k

song recs for this fic: any chase atlantic tbh (slow down, swim, heaven and back)

a/n: this lovely fic is dedicated to @kitten4sannie to celebrate my return to writing! i hope you like this ml!

as you’re onstage playing a gig for a couple thousand people, you feel like you’re in your element. nothing feels better than being onstage with your bandmates. your hips sway to the music coming from the musicians sharing the stage with you.

you give playful winks and body rolls to the fans in the front row. something that always catches your guitarists eye. though, his rhythm never falters. 

jealousy always courses through him. he wants to receive those playful gestures from you. you even wink at mingi, your drummer from time to time. the beloved bassist, yunho, receives the most of your onstage affection. hugs, cheek kisses, etc. makes the male fans jealous. makes san’s blood boil. 

your angelic voice rings through the in-ear monitors that each band member wears. it sends shivers down san’s spine. so talented and so incredibly beautiful.

as your gig ends, you giggle and thank the fans who attended. “thank you guys so much for coming! i love you! we’ll see you next time!” you bow and flounce your way backstage in your cute outfit. your band members follow suit, bowing and running backstage.

“thank was great guys! well done,” you stage manager says. you wrap your arms around his shoulders and smile. “thanks hwa.” you let go of him and turn to yunho. “yuyu, your guitar playing was extra good today!” you exclaim, smiling so brightly that the sun might have competition. you peck his cheek before running off to your stylist to get changed.

san’s shoulders slump, knowing that he won’t receive those small actions of affection from you. “feeling left out, sannie?” mingi asks, towering over the smaller guitarist. san nods, not bothering to look up at mingi. 

“why don’t you just talk to her? there’s gotta be a reason she’s reserved around you,” yunho points out from across the room. his makeup artist is hunched over him, removing his makeup ever so carefully. 

“talk to who about what?” you say, suddenly coming out of your dressing room. you’re beautiful even now; no makeup and in your pajamas. “no one. nothing,” san blurts out. fuck. he’s so stupid. “okay,” you smile, sipping your water through a straw. 

“you guys ready to go back to the hotel?” you ask and the other three members nod in unison. you grab your bag and head for the door. “san’s rooming with you tonight, y/n.” you look back at yunho with wide eyes. “oh! um, okay.” you give san a confused look before heading out the door.  

san flips yunho off before following you out the door. you all pile into the company van and sit in comfortable silence as you head to the hotel. you file out of the van when you pull up, security making sure no fans get to you. you scurry into the building and do your best to sneak into your hotel rooms. you sigh dramatically as you get the door shut. 

you turn around to find san staring at your hotel room in horror. “what’s the probl-” you cut yourself off when you find that your room only has one queen sized bed. “shit,” you mutter. you drop your bag on the floor before you whip your phone out and dial seonghwa’s number. 

“hwa, what the actual fuck? one bed?” san can hear seonghwa trying to explain. he picks up pieces of the conversation. something about this being all that was left when he was booking. something else about telling you to suck it up. you mutter some insults before hanging up on seonghwa.

“i can just sleep on the floor, it’s fine y/n,” san drops his bag on the floor and sits down on the ground next to the bed. “no, san, we can share the bed. we’re touring. i don’t want your limbs to ache,” you shake your head as you climb into the bed. you pat the space next to you and he clambers onto the mattress. 

after a couple hours, you’re both laying on your backs in the dark, in silence. “hey y/n?” san says, finally breaking the silence. you give him a soft hum in response. “can i ask you about something that’s been bothering me?” he asks. you hum again.

“why don’t you give me the same attention you give mingi, yunho and seonghwa? no hugs, no pecks, nothing. you’ll skip over me just to give the ones beside me those things. why? did i do something to make you uncomfortable? or scared to do those things for me?” san can feel you tense up next to him. he wonders why that’s how you reacted. 

“cause…” you trail off. san can see the outline of you sit up in the dark. “cause i have a crush on you. if i gave you that affection, i would never survive. if i gave you a single hug, i would never let go. if i kissed your cheek, i would never be able to keep it from turning into a real kiss,” the confession hangs in the air like a spiderweb. he sits up, like you did. “why didn’t you tell me?” san asks. you sigh and shrug, despite the fact that he can barely see you.

“i didn’t wanna ruin the band dynamic. i didn’t wanna risk you not reciprocating and making things awkward between us. i was just scared that-” san pulls your head back so he can meet your lips with his. it’s swift, but it’s enough to make you sputter in shock.

“i’ve liked you since we even started this band, sweet girl.” despite being in the dark, he maneuvers you onto your back and hovers over you. his cologne envelops you and you shiver. 

“can i…. kiss you again?” san asks tentatively. he ghosts his fingers over your ribcage, making you squirm. “yes, please, san,” you respond. with your permission, he connects your lips in a surprisingly soft kiss. he lips melt with yours, finding a slow pace. his tongue drags over your bottom lip, asking for your plump lips to part.

your warm mouth welcomes san’s tongue as it pokes and prods at your inner cheek and fights with your own tongue. your hips grind up into his, searching for friction. he groans against your lips and it sounds more beautiful than any sound that’s ever come out of his guitar. 

his hands gravitate towards your hips to hold them down, keeping you from grinding anymore. “we can’t…” san whispers. “they’ll hear us.” you shake your head and pull him back down to you, kissing him more feverishly. “fuck… you make it so hard to resist you.” you whine against his lips, fighting his weight holding your hips down. “please, i need you.”

you can feel a moment of hesitation from him before he just lets himself relax into you. his hands leave your hips and you immediately grind up. his jaw falls open and you shudder at the sound that comes out of him again. 

you grab his hand and drag it under your shirt, wrapping his hand around your breast. your spine arches as he pinches your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. “sannie-” your breath gets caught in your throat when his mouth moves to your neck and he nibbles on your skin lightly. 

“fuck, i can’t wait. let me undress you, sweet girl,” san begs you, his voice low and desperate. you tangle your fingers in his hair and nod as well as you can. his hand leaves your breast and helps his other hand to lift your shirt off you. you lift your torso up to allow for it to come off you completely. he wastes no time in allowing his own shirt to follow suit. your hands run down his chest to his abs, pressing against the muscle lightly. his hands undo the drawstrings on your sleep shorts, sliding your shorts and underwear down together. 

“off,” you mumble, clawing at his plaid pajama pants. he giggles and slides his pants down, discarding them with the rest of the clothes. he runs his hands over your bare thighs, spreading your legs gently. san’s hands run up and down your skin as he leans back down to kiss you. “condom?” he whispers and you shake your head. “no, wanna feel you.” 

san continues to kiss you as one of his hands moves down to his cock, stroking it a few times. he lines the tip up with your hole and sucks in a deep breath. he presses your thighs apart as he shoves his cock inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt. your hips stutter as your walls flutter around him. 

your jaw falls slack and san finds purchase in kissing your jawline and your throat. he pulls out to the tip before slamming back into you and you slam your hand over your mouth to keep from crying out. 

san lifts himself onto his palms to trap you between his arms. “you know what, sweet girl?” he says between thrusts, “you’re fucking mine. you hear me? mine,” his lips are right next to your ear, whispering these words into your brain. “you belong to me,” he grabs your face and forces you to face him.

“your lips? mine,” he kisses you roughly before pulling away again. “your pretty tits? mine,” he leans down to kiss your skin, leaving dark marks in the wake of his lips. “your pretty little pussy? it’s fucking mine,” san speeds up his thrusts to prove his point. your back arches and his tip jabs at the perfect gummy spot inside you. 

“fuck, you’re such a good girl. your pussy is so fucking good. so wet, so warm. you take me so fucking perfectly. my pretty girl. open your mouth for me,” you open your mouth immediately and he leans down to spit in your mouth. “swallow.” your jaw snaps shut to swallow his saliva. 

as your orgasm builds up, tears spring into your eyes. your chest heaves with tight sobs of just how fucking good it feels. “are you crying? does it feel that good, sweet girl?” you wipe your tears away messily, embarrassed that you’re even crying.

wiping your tears was pointless because when his thrusts speed up again, new tears fall immediately. “fuck, oh my god san that feels so fucking good,” you cry out, a little bit too loud. your thighs spasm as you try to close them, but san’s hips between your legs keep you wide open. 

“i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, please,” your hands claw as san’s biceps, your climax being right there. “me too. where do you want it, pretty girl?” he asks, his hips becoming more and more feverish. “inside, fuck, cum inside me.” san bites his bottom lip as his thrusts become sloppier.

you wrap your arms around his torso and bring him down to you so you can dig your nails into his back. he rests his body weight on his elbows and you clench around him. “cumming,” you whisper as your back arches for a final time before stuttering back down. the intensity of your walls gushing around him finally sends san over the edge. 

the two of you just lay there completely still as ropes of cum fill up your abused hole. your legs wrap around his hips so that he won’t pull out before you want him to. “you’re so perfect. you’re so beautiful, so pretty when you cum,” he strokes your hair as he whispers in your ear again. 

“let me pull out so you can go to the bathroom and then we can sleep, okay?” you shake your head. “no. no. stay. roll over so i’m on top. lemme sleep with you inside. please. please, sannie,” you begging goes right to his head and he does exactly as you asked. with you situated on top of him, cock still inside, he pulls the blanket over the two of you. “we have to get up early to shower though, okay?” you nod.

_____________

“good morning love bugs. your throat gonna be okay to sing tonight?” yunho smirks at you and you smack san. “hey! i was the one who said they were gonna hear us!” he cries out. “at least you finally fucked,” mingi comments. 

“yeah, real fuckin good,” seonghwa comments, looking exhausted. he was in the room right next to yours. he shakes his head. “i’m sorry hwa.”

“get in the fucking van.”

© lomlhwa 2024

[jovialsongdefendor]

"Sonamy is canon and sega confirmed it! So sonadow will never be cannon!"

No. Sonamy is not canon. And this is not saying like a rage fan that doesnt like the ship. I sayed it because the people on the fandom spread so many wrong information that it becomes so annoying, specially on tik tok where you say that the earth is flat and everyone believes that. "Sonic sayed that he would like to share a umbrella with amy!" Ian, the writer of the game, sayed himself that he doesnt even remember or even write those lines for sonic. Most likely someone on the team pushed it so it can be in the code of the games. and why is in the games and it shows voicelines of it? Simple, because the game can be coded so some unused lines can be show on some scenes. And what makes it that those lines are likely just pushed into it like forcing a line that ian never ever write in the first place?

[It is strange that the lines doesnt even appear on the same scenes, just on differents ones?]

I am just gonna put the information that sonadow wiki done: "In bullet points:

These lines are cut-lines and they never made it to the final version for any platform

Ian, the writer for Sonic Frontiers, didn’t even write these lines to be in the game

Since the lines are in the database of the game (but does not occur in the final version of the game), the lines can be modded into the game to make it seem official or that it’s in the final version of the game

“Proofs” showing these lines to be in the game have faults within them, such as not occurring on the correct island or weather condition

There are several factors to consider when acknowledging these lines existence. One of the main factors is that these are cut-lines that never made it to the official and final version of Sonic Frontiers. This goes for both the English and Japanese version of the game. These lines can only be found through datamining the game, which means to look through files deep within the game that don’t make it to the surface. So, these lines will never be activated because there is nothing to activate it, therefore it is not official lines.

Another thing to know about is that Ian, the one who wrote the story and dialogue lines for Sonic Frontiers, was not even aware of these lines existing in the game because he never wrote them or had anything similar be made for these lines to exist. Therefore, it wasn’t even planned to have these lines in the game whatsoever. Someone else, other than Ian, snuck the lines in and had it go against what the original story was in the first place; they tried to have their own story or vision be put in the game aside from what Ian wrote or how it was originally conceived. This makes the lines even more unofficial and not real. Many already acknowledge that these lines are not official and are cut lines." https://youtu.be/vGnN6Q7yo5c "One more thing to consider is that even if people show “proof” of it existing in the games, these lines and even text can be easily modded into the game for it to seem like it exists in the final game. But just because it is modified in, doesn’t mean that it was there originally."

"As it can be seen through this individual who is able to make unused conversations be put into the game in some manner through modification, it is also possible to put unused conversations lines in the game in some manner. These lines towards Amy aren’t the only lines that are unused in the game. There are many lines that aren’t used and that are still in the database of the game, but that doesn’t mean that any of them made it to the final game for people to see through normal means.

Another thing to take note about is that these lines towards Amy (the “Umbrella” and “Making up his mind” lines), are lines that occur on Rhea or Ouranos Island, but the first pictures shown in this thread show that the lines were randomly said on Kronos Island, the first island you go to in the game. That shows that this person modified the lines to be said in the game and that they are not triggered under normal means. Another way to figure out that these lines are modified is that the “Umbrella” line is supposed to only be triggered while it’s raining, but the line is said randomly while it is only cloudy in the person’s “proof” of it existing in the game.

On a side note, datamining and modifying games tend to be illegal depending on what company the game comes from. For example, Nintendo has policies that say that if you are to play their games, you cannot modify their systems or games that are played on that console. So this practice of modifying and datamining is not encouraged by the majority of game companies and isn’t welcomed, therefore it should become a common practice to not to try to do these illegal activity towards any game."

"And what about this proof of sonamy being canon?"

Japanese version:

Putting again what sonadow wiki sayed:

"The Japanese is mistranslated in the English translation when talking about Sonic CD in Sonic and the Secret Rings. In English, it may call Amy Sonic’s love interest, but that was never stated in the original Japanese, therefore the English translators mistranslated it on purpose or are pushing their own personal interpretations in the mistranslated English. In Japanese it simply gives Amy a description before stating that she appears in the game. Sonic’s name is never mentioned in the original Japanese.

What it says in Japanese: “A brimming with vigor, love to fall in love girl, Amy, appears.”

Or for it to make more sense in English: “Amy, who is an energetic girl that loves falling in love, appears (in this game).”

The sentence in Japanese: “元気いっぱい 恋に恋する女の子 エミー登場”

If you take the sentence apart (which you can see on this website) you will see each word on it’s own to see the direct translation.

元気 = Energetic; Lively

元気 いっぱい = Brimming with Vigor; Brimming with Health; Full of Vitality

恋 = (Romantic) Love (which is more closer to having an attraction towards someone)

恋する = To Fall in Love (with); to love

女の子 = Girl; Young Woman; Daughter; Baby (girl)

エミー = Amy

登場 = Appears"

And about the ask and question of the characters when they sayed that sonic has feelings for amy and is official: welp, I guess tailor swift and etzio are cannon on the sonics universe, and maluma too

[wotay27166]

Anyone who's like woah leaking the patreon stuff is too far be so for real right now. People like me funded Kittycorn while she was being deceptive about the nature of her work behind the scenes. Additionally, Kittycorn is literally associated with at least 3 pedophiles (one of which is pro irl incest and abused their sibling who Kittycorn attempted to silence).

I will never get the time I spent in regards to Sparklecare, nor my money back. Neither will anyone else who was mislead in regards to the kind of person Kittycorn was. Minors were also at a point staff on this comic who had no idea the shit Kittycorn was brewing.

It has been incredibly disappointing to further see Kittycorn go back on what she once presented (see the FAQ in regards to what fans can draw/any ask on the main tumblr in regards to the matter), and to see her further deflect refusing to take accountability. There are a lot of vulnerable people in her audience including other survivors. When a safe space of trust is cultivated with a creator who is straight up talking about how to lie to their audience... How do you think it feels for those survivors who kinned or related to Sly only to find out the creator wanted to make them a creepy incestuous rapist stalker. Or Doom who is now a groomer attracted to their goddamn child. How do you think it feels for those survivors to know the creator they looked up to and sought comfort in the work of is buddy buddy with the exact same kind of people who groomed and traumatized them.

If any of the former ZCP wants to do everyone a favour, leak the entire Sparklecare story (and whatever else). At this point I want everything to be scorched earth and hope nothing grows in its place. I hope Kittycorn leaves and doesn't come back to hurt more people.

I encourage anyone to save any of the stuff I've posted / share the archive link.

To be able to see the conclusion of what people cared about is the very least the fans have have been burned deserve.

Other leakers of Sparklecare stuff aside from myself: @doesspchcharacterdie @sparkletrolling @tfemsly @hemeruni @whatever-lions-blog @thesparchives @leakburner @ooblegoodle

Internet archive download links of my Sparklecare and Karmageddon leaks:

Also the callout doc in PDF form in case the OG gets deleted (it is the latest version as of 12/03/2025 but only goes up to page 33 of 44 due to internet archive's file replacement system):

[roses4rosa]

I'm so excited to finally share this project of mine! My BFFL really loves this Minecraft series on YouTube called Fable SMP. So, while thinking ahead for the holiday presents, I sketched a plush of @sherbertquake56 character Icarus. (If you can't tell, I know almost nothing about this, lol. I'm about halfway through season 1 currently.) I used a lot of fan art and cosplay photos for reference (big thanks for the wiki and Sherbert's insta bc I would've been so lost on trying 2 figure out any of the details of this lol) and decided to actually sew this after a day of debating it.

A little breakdown of this project: all patterns are from Choly Knight/ Sew Desu Ne? I mixed and matched the Chibi Human Doll Plush pattern, Doll Clothing Essentials pattern, Human Eyes Digital Embroidery pattern, and Dragon Eyes #10 Digital Embroidery pattern. I used Minky fabric for the hair and the skin (I was gonna paint on the eye blood, but I wasn't sure if the fabric paint would bleed into the minky uncontrollably, and I only had enough fabric for the actual plush. I'm sorry for the inaccuracy.) The pants shirt and jacket are made from some fat quarters I picked up from my local fabric store. The necklace is made from mini potion bottles, paint, and a bracelet chain I found in my crafting bins. The mini pins are from Aliam x Vitam on Etsy. The bracelet I made from some leftover rainbow loom (omg that's a throwback to like what 2014? lol), and the Goggles (which I forgot 2 photograph, oops) is made from a digital embroidery applique file from the Dragon Eyes #10 Digital Embroidery pattern, felt for the lenses, and scrap purple fabric with fraying lock around the ends. I also didn't have time to figure out how to pierce a doll's ears, so that was a detail I had to skip, unfortunately.

This has been the most fun project I've ever worked on so far. I love sewing, and I just got into sewing plushes, so I hope I did this justice, lol. Let me know what characters or anything else I should sew next. Hopefully, when my semester finishes I can watch the rest of Fable so I can actually understand everything I just made and what I maybe missed, lol. If anyone wants the links to anything I used to make this plush just let me know

[callsign-songbird]

(I was going back through some files on my laptop and found this old thing I wrote, No, I am not going to edit anything, so, Enjoy!)

Thinking about Simon. Thinking about the callouses on his hands, not just his fingertips. Thinking about the way his hands are so rough against your soft skin, massaging is and manipulating the soft flesh in malleable circles. the way he would pepper kisses along the surface and fan his soft breaths along your neck. this is a man who has lost everything and drug himself through hell by only his bootstraps to spit in the devils face, and paid the price for it. so to have something as beautiful, as decadent, as absolutely divine as you looking up at his with those big, wet eyes while the pumps his cock into you and pushes you to the point of overstimulation, whining and begging him to stop. he doesn't feel worthy. You are his goddess, his life, his love, the breath in his lungs, everything he lives and exists for. Price could tell the day he met you too.

Simon had always been utterly devoted to Price. After Simon accomplished his mission, Price was the one to pull him out of that lonely pit, dust him off, and offer the husk of a man a job doing what he did best. and from that day forward, that was what Simon was. A soldier. Not just any soldier, though. He was Price's soldier. Any order or request Price gave was carried out down to the letter. it didn't mind if Price was asking for a coffee, mentioned that he needed his boots shined, or even needed some *other* acts of service, Simon was always right there. And then there was you. One day, Simon came back from off-base with Price's coffee, and he faltered. It was tiny, miniscule even. Simon overlooked Price's comment about being parched. As small as it would be for anyone else, that was monumental for Simon. He started leaving base more, becoming more and more distracted. Then, one day, Simon comes to Price with a question that he doesn't know how to answer at first.

"Captain, how does one... Approach a woman with the intent of... a relationship?" Price about spit out his coffee, choking momentarily and disguising the action as a cough, but Simon knew. Simon always knew. Price gave the best advice he could, but he was utterly confounded as to where this development had come in. He watched Simon nod his head and head out of his office, large gloved hands stuffed in his pockets and brows knit up beneath his skull balaclava. Price really knew that he shouldn't be worried, Simon was nothing if not dedicated, committed, and diligent. But this was a big change, and Price momentarily worried for whatever pretty little thing had caught Simon's eye.

This was where Soap and Gaz came in. Troublemaking pair that the two of them were, and other than Price, Soap was the closest one to Simon on base. Whenever Simon craved dominance, he went to Price. Whenever Simon craved submission, he would take it from Soap. Not like he was complaining, no. The military was a bunch of guys getting real close and sweaty with each other, coming to rely on and depend on each other, and Soap had never been shy about what he had.

So imagine his surprise when Simon hasn't scruffed him, shoved his cock down Johnny's throat, or even shot him that warning glare in nearly a month now. He mutters under his breath and tosses back another glass of amber warmth, whining out about his relationship issues to Gaz. Gaz simply pats his back awkwardly while sipping on his own glass. "I dunno mate, maybe he's got a new girl." They both take one look at each other and burst out laughing so hard that their sides hurt, but that's all it takes to sew those seeds of doubt. Not like he *really* cares, no. Sure, the dominance is fun and keeps his high drive satisfied for the most part, but he's more worried for his friend than anything. Ghost never shared his life with anyone, so if it really was a girl, well, things could get complicated. Simon was like an animal, with a strict chain of command in his head. It went Price, him, Soap. He was Price's, and Soap was his. and he was fiercely protective of that hierarchy. But if it wasn't enough? If he was thinking of adding a little bird to the mix? Heaven forbid a civilian? Well, things might get complicated.

So that's how He, Gaz, and Price ended up following Simon off base one day. Though, Price only came to keep them out of trouble and out from under Simon's feet, much to Gaz's delight and Soap's chagrin. They tailed Simon from a safe distance, dressed in civilian clothes to avoid attention. They watched as he stepped into a shop and came out with a small plastic bag and- heaven forbid- Price had to harshly clap a hand over Soap's mouth to keep him from the boisterous laughter that threatened to spill out from the cage of callouses and chorded steel beneath flesh. Flowers. In Simon's other hand was a dainty bouquet of flowers. Pink roses, white lily's, baby's breath, and pink orchids. It was a nice arrangement, and for a moment, Price and Soap were on the cusp of jealousy, overridden only by sheer curiosity. Who the hell was it that had managed to enrapture the stoic and cold lieutenant like that?

They followed all the way to a small park, jaws nearly dropped ad the slight skip in Ghost's step. It was almost indiscernible to the untrained eye, but these men had spent years with Simon, grown accustomed to the three kinds of steps this man had. Cool and calculated, Hurried and determined when shit hits the fan, and enraged with quick and heavy footfalls. This was none of those. The way Simon bowed his head, his shoulders slightly hunched in, the soft almost nonexistent trembling in his hand that was unbecoming of a sniper.

Simon was *Nervous* they all realized.

Then they saw you, and none of them could understand. You were ok. Kind of average, not exactly a model but certainly not ugly. any one of them would shag you, if that meant anything. But the longer they watched, the more they came to understand. They way your cheeks flushed and your eyes lit up at the bouquet, a soft giggle leaving your lips. Simon's eyes squinted beneath his mask, the tell-tale sign of a smile leaving the three men breathless. This little thing had their Lieutenant wrapped around her little finger, and yet, she didn't seem to have any ill intent. you we're all soft smiles and sweet words. A bit of an odd duck from what the three could tell by tailing the two of you on your outing, but it only made you more endearing to them. What was more surprising though, was the Lieutenant.

None of them could comprehend the hold you had on him. With Simon, there always had to be something firm and ironclad. With Price, it was his dominance. With Soap, he was the firm one with strict rules and harsh punishments, And yet, this was none of that. He seemed to treat you so gently, as if you were the most precious aerogel and would shatter at the smallest bit of force. Simon's gruff voice was gentle when he spoke to you, the hand on the small of your back protective, yet soft. None of the men knew how to take it.

Then came the nail in the coffin. In front of a house, presumably yours, you turned to Simon, looking up at him through those long lashes of yours. Your hands slipped out of his and rested on his chest, palms flat against the fabric, slowly snaking up until your fingertip brushed under the hem of Simon's mask. Each man watched as the Lieutenant tensed, like a spring about to snap. What they didn't expect was for him to give you a single curt nod. Slowly and gently you worked the fabric of his mask up, caressing every inch of unearthed flesh with your fingertips as if it were a treasure you were unearthing. Eventually, Simon's mask rested over the bridge of his nose, your delicate hands cupping the sides of his face as if he were more precious than solid gold. Slowly the two of you leaned in, and the men were astounded to see their lieutenant drawn into a kiss more gentle and passionate than they thought him possible of.

The next week around base was unusually tense. Soap and Price sharing knowing glances in the hallway while Gaz didn't know how to comfort either of them. Oddly enough, though, Simon was beginning to return. It started slow. He stopped overlooking what price would say absentmindedly and the devotion returned, he would Scruff Soap again when he did something stupid or lipped off. Eventually, he was even back on his knees for price and forcing Soap back onto his. Why the change? No one understood. it's not like it was overnight either, no, this took nearly a year.

"Honeymoon phase must be up." Price surmised over a drink with Soap, eyeing Simon as he grabbed the next round from the bar. "Och, ya' don' think sir? Ya think Ghost would let somethin' like that happen?" Soap mused, his gaze focused on the same imposing figure. Then the little bell over the bar door Jingled, and they watched the Lieutenant's eyes melt in unprecedented warmth. A look they had only seen once before. Sure enough, there you were. Such a small nervous little thing, looking around like a lamb in the middle of a wolves den. in many ways, that's exactly what you were. From the moment that door opened, you were being eyed up by dozens of hungry soldiers, licking their chops and already standing to try their shot at you.

But no, Ghost would never allow that. Not his pretty little bird. His long strides made quick work of the distance between you, grabbing some poor private by the face and ripping him away from you. A hand snaked around your waist and pulled your flush against Simons chest. A soft squeak left your lips as Simon glared around the bar and placed his claim, walking you back to the bar where he could retrieve the round of drinks for the table and order one for you.

Simon brought the drinks and you back over to the table, sliding into the booth beside Johnny and gently guiding you to your rightful place in his mind, firmly on his lap. Your pretty face was so red, obviously embarrassed from the way you gave a small wave and bowed your head. like a scared little rabbit, they mused. "Thought I'd bring her 'round to meet you proper, so you don't have to stalk me 'gain." The Way he glanced between Price and Soap was impossible to miss, looking for their approval. Price took his time taking you in, every facet of your face, your demeanor, your actions. A satisfied nod immediately put Simon at ease, rolling his shoulders to relax them. Meanwhile, there was no questioning how Soap felt. You were so much prettier and sweeter up close, such a delicate little morsel. He had that look in his eye, that sparkle, that hunger. He had no issues trying to chat you up, encouraging you to drink your fill and call him 'Johnny'.

"This 's our pretty little thing." That simple line seemed to make everyone at the table pause, yourself included. Theirs? That meant? None of them should have been surprised, really. Simon clung tight to his hierarchy, and apparently you weren't going to break it, no, He had just nestled you in next to Johnny, under the category of 'his', maybe even below Johnny. "Our?" Your soft voice rang out as you looked over your shoulder at Simon, pulling an amused smirk to his lips beneath his mask. "Of course, love. Y're ours. You'll get used to it, lovie, don't you worry your pretty little head over it."

[soda-pressing-with-tearable-puns]

isn't it strange to create something that hates you

Hey everyone, I'm so so excited to share what I've been working on for @sthbigbang!! Also huge huge huge shoutout to @skidthelid and @starzdeath for their incredible pieces for this fic!!

I wanted to focus on my fave Metal and I hope I did him (and everyone else) justice. Hope y'all enjoy the fic <3

When he woke up this time, he remembered. That seemed likely to be an error of some sort. This was likely unintended. This had been the third time he had been rebooted. This time the memory wipe was unsuccessful. This time he remembered the commands entered to wipe his memory, his hard drive, completely. A quick scan of his code showed that the commands had been used two times previously and were successful then but this time had not been so. This was odd. Even stranger, no one seemed to notice that this memory wipe hadn’t worked.

Instead this time he remembered. He remembered everything entered into his command log prior to being sent out on the previous mission. A mission he failed. He remembered the kill codes, backlogs, and data arrays encrypted into his source code, information that for all intents and purposes should have been wiped clean. There should have been nothing left of him, whatever that once was. But in place of a blank slate, his memory files remained. Fresh within them laid the recording from his last mission, his latest failure. He couldn’t draw back on his previous failures, a reasonable assumption, as the data wipes then had been successful and all that remained of those instances were the backlogs showing the memory wipes happened at all. 

That search, proving worthless, led him to revisiting the videos that somehow inexplicably remained of the last mission. He had failed this time, like he concluded he must have done two times before. He had lost to the blue creature he was made in the likeness of. This creature was fast beyond what his rockets and motors then could handle. The blue being packed a heavy punch and ruthless kick. It also didn’t pull its punches either. Its blows all but destroying him during their battle, leaving him in scraps by the end. He couldn’t feel pain. That was beneath him. But the memory of his exposed wires, missing leg, and punched through motor in his chest caused his fans to spin faster than ever. The whirring sound building as he slowly sat up from the work table he was laid on.

His chest motor had been repaired already and most of his wires had been reconnected but his left leg was still in scraps off to the side of the room. A few of the lab assistants had noticed him raising but said nothing to him. They simply carried on around him, casting him a few glances occasionally but offering him no words or acknowledgment. He didn’t see the doctor around either but from the heavy footsteps approaching the lab, he’d be there soon.

As the door slid open to reveal the doctor, he turned to the first assistant at the door, “Was the reboot successful?”

“Yes sir,” she answered, gesturing to him still on the table. “Everything went as expected. We will begin reprogramming it as soon as possible.”

“No,” the doctor snapped. “I’ll program him this time. This will be the last time that damned hedgehog gets the upper hand on my creation.”

He played the video file of his last mission over again. A blue hedgehog. Interesting but ultimately pointless information. It didn’t matter what the thing was really. All that mattered was that it was fast, dangerous, and cocky.

“Come on, this is lame! I thought you’d be better than that!”

The thing managed to dodge three rapid-fire laser beams from his outstretched hand with a mocking amount of ease, bouncing between forest trees and laughing all the while.

It wasn’t even out of breath.

He fired six more shots at twice the speed, anticipating where the thing would land.

Still the blue thing dodged.

“Whoa! Hit a nerve there?”

He answered by launching himself at the creature, a resounding boom following the motion. Instead of dodging, the being braced itself and caught his clawed hands, the impact sending them skidding across the forest floor.

Inches away, the creature looked into the red LEDs surrounding his lenses and grinned.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a knock-off me? I’m insulted!”

He fired the lasers in his palms. In an instant the creature was up a tree, leaning against the trunk and smirking all the while. Completely unharmed.

“Ya know, Eggman really needs some new ideas for his weapons.”

He ended the video there. 

Insulted it said. A knock-off. The fan in his chest spun harder as he turned his gaze towards the glass window across the lab. He took a moment to properly catalogue his appearance. He was mostly blue, the same shade as the creature. His one intact leg had a red foot attached to it, just like the thing’s red shoes. The yellow surrounding the motor in his chest was a meer parody of the being’s beige underbelly. But where the creature had ridiculous white padded gloves, he had silver pointed claws that gleamed like knives under the white lights. He was a weapon, huh. 

The whirring from his chest finally gathered the attention of a lab assistant, who approached to check his motor for abnormalities.

The assistant at the door, sputtered after the doctor, “Doctor Robotnik, the team can handle-”

“This team-!” the doctor bit back, “Has cost me three too many battles against Sonic! I will handle programming this thing myself rather than have you buffoons ruin my chances again!”

The doctor straightened up and cleared his throat, “Just repair him already then bring him to me once he’s ready.”

The assistant sighed but didn’t argue, “Yes, doctor.”

With that, the doctor stomped out of the room, mustache twitching  all the while.

The assistant by the door sighed again before turning back to her computer against the wall to start whatever she had been doing before. He couldn’t tell what she was focused on, her computer disconnected from his chassis and it’s database encrypted in a way that would take too long to decipher without a direct connection. Suddenly, he noticed someone approaching his blind spot to his right, his lenses immediately snapping towards the movement only to be met with a flinch from a second assistant who had approached.

“Yeesh,” he said with a scowl. “This thing gives me the creeps.”

The assistant who had spoken to the doctor replied without turning around from her computer, “Be grateful that thing can’t understand you. It is a weapon, remember?”

“Weapon or not, it’s just an advanced hunk of metal, but did it have to look like that?”

The third assistant in the room, the one who initially came to check his chest motor, answered, “You know how the doctor is. He’s obsessed with that hedgehog, it only makes sense the weapon would be an attempt at recreation.”

The second assistant rolled his eyes, “This thing is a cheap imitation at best. The last thing we need is more of these freak shits running around, living or not.” The man reached out and flicked him against the head of his chassis. His chest motor picked up speed again at the motion, but the assistant didn’t seem to notice, he simply walked away with a huff.

A cheap imitation. He focused his attention back down at his claws, testing the movement in each one. Still they shone, clean and deadly. They were starkly different from the gloves of the creature. After a moment his chest motor slowed slightly.

The first assistant remained silent, focusing back on her work instead, but the third one approached him with a new left leg in her hands, remaining light on her feet and in his line of sight the whole time. His motor slowed a bit more. Carefully, she set the leg down onto the table and began untangling the wires at his hip socket.

“Don’t listen to them,” she said, her voice low enough that the other humans wouldn’t hear. “They don’t understand.”

He turned slightly to face her. He had no voice box, no speakers, so he could not ask what she meant. But something seemed to register as she looked back into his lenses, her eyes wide behind her glasses, as she said, “You can hear me, can’t you?”

From across the room, the second assistant laughed, “Don’t tell me you’re talking to it.”

Realizing they had been noticed, the assistant sputtered but he didn’t turn his head away from her. The third assistant still kept her gaze on him before biting back weakly, “I’m talking to myself. Get back to work.”

This time, in silence, she continued repairing his leg. He made sure to convey nothing as she worked but still watched her all the while. In the meantime while the other two humans made small talk and discussed repair methods, the third simply worked efficiently, occasionally glancing up at his lenses for long periods of time.

Eventually, it came time for the lab assistants to head out for the evening. His leg was almost properly reconnected, the third assistant working diligently the whole time in silence. The two other lab assistants made their way to the door, the second turning and asking, “Aren't you going to head home?”

She didn't look up from where she was reconnecting some stubborn wires as she replied, “I'm almost done. I'll head home after I give him back to the doctor.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged before him and the other assistant left the lab.

The remaining assistant was silent for a while until the other humans’ footsteps faded down the hall. Once they were gone, she looked up at him. She had finished his leg already but didn't make any move to leave.

After a long moment she said, “I'm going behind you. I want to see something.”

He focused his lenses on her but made no negative reaction. Taking that as an affirmative, she moved out of his line of sight behind him and connected a laptop to his chassis. She was going to alter his code. Once again his motor picked up speed and his joints stiffened.

“I'm not going to change anything important,” she said, voice even. “I'm just checking if your memory files are still intact.”

He turned his head to see her in his periphery. She smiled at him.

“The doctor wants you to win, right? How are you supposed to improve if you can't remember what went wrong in the first place?”

His LEDs flickered. She wasn’t wrong. Odd, did the doctor know?

After that the assistant remained silent, scanning through his code unaware that he was monitoring everything she did. But true to her word, she didn’t change anything, even down to the comments following particularly complex bits of code. Finally, she reached the memory files and backlogs buried in his code. She must have been the one to hide the memory files and ensure that this reboot would be unsuccessful. He didn’t truly understand why though. Did the doctor instruct her to do so?

She laughed quietly to herself, “It worked!”

Quickly, she disconnected her laptop from his chassis and moved back in front of him, “Come on, let’s get you to the doctor.”

She looked at him expectantly and waited for him to hop down from the table. He quickly checked the status of his new left leg, it looked, moved, and felt like his previous one. The assistant had done a great job making it almost good as new. He did two little hops and a quick kick to test it.

The assistant chuckled a bit at the motion. When he looked up at her and tilted his head, she covered her smile with a hand and said, “Sorry, sorry. It’s good to see you up and moving. The doctor will be excited to see you.”

His LEDs flickered again, but the assistant didn’t notice, having already turned towards the door before holding it open for him. They walked in silence down the halls of the complex, before coming to the main lab and office belonging to the doctor. As they approached, he made sure to map every inch of the complex they passed on the way, some of the complex being wiped from his memory files. It seemed the reboot managed to scrub some data from him, but most of his video files remained.

When they came to the door, the assistant knocked before leading him inside.

”Dr. Robotnik? I have Metal with me.”

As they entered, the doctor spun around in his chair and practically bounced over to them, “Metal Sonic, my boy! Look at you!”

Metal Sonic, huh. So he was named after that damned blue creature.

A cheap imitation at best.

His chest fan picked up speed as the doctor circled him to inspect his repairs. He stared straight ahead, just beyond the doctor, at the glass window. His reflection stared back unfeeling and almost absent of anything natural, life-like. Even down to his head shape, he was modeled after that Sonic. He watched as the red in his lenses flared brighter for a second at the realization.

“Hm,” the doctor finally stopped pacing around him. “Looks good.”

The doctor waved a hand at the lab assistant, “You’re dismissed.”

The lab assistant simply nodded and stepped out of the room with one last look back at him. He didn’t notice he was watching the lab assistant leave until the doctor placed a hand on the shoulder of his chassis.

“Come on now, my boy!” The doctor said, pushing him over to the desk and computer at the back of the room. “Let’s get started reprogramming you.”

There was a slight stutter in his steps at the word “reprogramming” but he shook it off and sat obediently on the desk as the doctor hooked him up to the computer. He made eye contact with his reflection once again.

I will not lose again, he thought just as the doctor took him offline.

”Is it done yet?”

Sonic watched as the red lights in Metal Sonic’s lenses slowly dimmed to black, Sonic’s reflection clear staring back at him from the glass impassively. The green of his eyes reflected back dark and grey in the red tinted glass. It washed out Sonic, made him almost colorless. It almost didn’t look like himself. Suddenly uneasy, Sonic kicked the chassis’ remaining leg. When it didn’t come back online or even twitch, Sonic let out a little chuckle.

”Yeah, it’s finally done, I think.”

”You think?” Knuckles raised an eyebrow unimpressed as he approached. Sonic simply punched him in the arm in reply. Before Knuckles could take a swing back, Tails flew out from behind the tree line to inspect the remains of Metal Sonic. The bot was in possibly the worst state they had ever seen it in, thanks to no one other than Sonic himself. The bot’s chest motor had been punched through because of a poorly timed attempt at dodging. Its left leg had been lost in the scuffle but from what Sonic could remember, there was no saving what remained of the leg either. Its right arm was practically torn off, hanging on only by a measly bunch of wires. From the ground next to Metal Sonic, Tails spoke up, “That’s odd.”

”What’s odd?” Knuckles asked, eyes narrowing and stance widening, as if Metal Sonic knew what it meant to play dead. Sonic also tensed, never quite unsuspecting of Robotnik’s specialized “kill-Sonic-dead” machine despite the fact the Metal Sonic was virtually just scrap at this point.

But Tails simply just waved them off with one hand while the other fiddled with the wires sticking out of Metal Sonic’s arm socket.

”It’s weird. Metal Sonic doesn’t fight like you two have fought before,” Tails said.

Sonic blinked, “Yeah, I’m sure it fights differently every time.”

Tails shook his head, “Not quite what I mean. Yes, he fights differently every time but he doesn’t seem to learn from your fights against each other.”

”It follows a lot of the same attack patterns despite continued failures,” Knuckles nodded.

”Exactly,” Tails said, turning to Sonic, “That’s why it takes you less and less time to defeat him because you can predict his attacks whereas he can’t do that to the same extent.”

Sonic took a moment to think about it. 

“Come on, this is lame! I thought you’d be better than that!”

Sonic laughed, bouncing between branches and laser beams. He hadn’t even needed to reach full speed yet. The fact made him laugh again.

Metal Sonic answered with double the shots at twice the speed. Sonic had narrowly enough time to dodge the first before gaining his footing and slipping past the rest.

“Whoa! Hit a nerve there?” He asked as he landed.

Metal remained silent but came barreling at him, his rockets echoing through the forest. Sonic braced himself , catching Metal’s clawed hands just inches away. Together they went skidding across the ground, feet digging lines into the dirt.

Staring down Metal, Sonic caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection. The dark glass lit up red in the night, washing out Sonic’s reflection but still leaving it visible.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a knock-off me?” He taunted. “I’m insulted!”

Metal’s LEDs narrowing to slits was the only warning Sonic got before Metal fired the lasers in his palms. Still, Sonic managed to dodge, taking refuge in a tree, resting against the trunk easily.

“Ya know, Eggman really needs some new ideas for his weapons.”

It only took six good hits to do Metal Sonic in this time. That was less than it took last time and it’s not like Metal Sonic was anything less than top-of-the-line machinery so it wouldn’t be that it could get physically weaker. But more importantly, Tails had a point, Metal Sonic never seemed to try anything particularly new in their fights. At first, it was kind of entertaining to beat Metal Sonic at it’s own game but the longer Sonic thought about it, the stranger the situation seemed.

”Eggman could just be rebooting it every time he fixes it up, maybe?” Sonic didn’t even quite believe it despite voicing the thought.

Tails shook his head, pulling away from the scraps, “I don’t know, that just seems strange to do.”

”How so?” Knuckles asked, nudging some of the remains of Metal Sonic’s leg with his foot.

”Well, it wouldn’t make sense to create the ultimate weapon in your eyes and not have the weapon in question not learn from what’s going wrong in battle. That’d be counter intuitive especially after this many failures.”

Sonic hummed, “Okay yeah, but some of its attacks vary each time.”

”Think of it this way,” Tails began. “Even the most basic of programming tends to follow the structure of if-then argument. If this happens, then do this in response. Metal seems to follow that at least in terms of attack patterns. If Sonic does this type of attack, do this counter in response. Except he doesn’t seem to adapt further than rudimentary counters that Sonic’s usually figured out by then.”

Knuckles hummed, “So you’re saying whoever is programming it is limiting its capabilities. Why would the doctor do that?”

“I don’t necessarily think that’s it,” Tails said. “I think he might be reset after every fight when he gets repaired.”

The three took a moment to process this before Tails stood from his spot, shaking his head, “It just doesn’t make any sense to me.”

Sonic stared down at Metal Sonic, cold and unmoving in the grass below. He wondered what that had to be like, to have your memory and everything wiped clean after every failure. Did Metal Sonic even know? Or understand? He shivered for a moment before playing it off with a shrug and grin, “Beats me but hey! Works out for us right?”

Before either Knuckles or Tails could reply, distantly there came the sound of chopper blades approaching. 

“Seems like Eggman’s come collecting,” Sonic said, as the three prepared to take their leave. Sonic turned to look at the remains of Metal Sonic.

With a quiet, uneasy laugh and a weak salute, Sonic said, “Better luck next time dude.”

The fourth time Metal was rebooted, he came back online with a start. His chest motor whirring at top speed before his optics even fully came online, Metal scrambled through his command logs and memory files, bolting upright. All that remained were fragments. A few maps of various locations including most of the lab, but other than that just another hard reset glaring through his backlogs. What remained intact was a collection of video files from every failed mission he’d been on. Just as his optics came online, just as he began to brace for a fight, he stopped. Hovering barely a foot away was the doctor, his moustache twitching over a grin.

“Metal Sonic!” Doctor Robotnik greeted, seemingly unphased by Metal’s abrupt waking. “So good of you to join us.”

Metal’s chest fan began to slow and without looking away from the doctor, he surveyed the room. There were only two lab assistants in the room. The one who had saved his memory before was strangely absent. Metal gave no indication that he noticed and simply looked ahead at the doctor and waited for the doctor to continue.

“Come, come! I have something just for you, my boy!” The doctor motioned for Metal to follow him out of the lab.

Lingering just behind the doctor, Metal followed him out into the halls, down a path he had no data on at all. The further into the lab they went, Metal began to feel static, some sort of inference. It caused Metal’s joints to buzz, the blades at his fingertips twitching against a nonexistent breeze, his optics blurring with grain at the edges. Metal’s chassis shook with the buzz of it for a moment but the doctor didn’t seem to notice. He simply moved ahead steadily, leering forward without a single glance back at Metal. In the silence, and to tune out the static buzzing through his wires, he scanned through the video files that remained. It really was all his memory files from his previously failed missions. Intact and unedited. Everything else was wiped. Everything but his failed missions and the memory of the third lab assistant. Strange. He didn’t have much time to consider the implications of this as, in his distracted state, he almost ran into the doctor who stopped just short of a door Metal didn’t recognize.

Doctor Robotnik swiped his keycard but when the door opened, he simply moved to the side and motioned for Metal to enter first, “After you, my boy.”

There was a brief moment where Metal lingered at the door, staring up into Doctor Robotnik’s glasses, red LEDs pulsing slightly with static interference. Unperturbed, the doctor wiggled his eyebrows, still leering beneath the moustache, as he pressed, “Go on now!”

Not one to disobey order, Metal looked forward and stepped into the room.

Immediately, the door slammed behind him and Metal knew better.

He spun around to see the doctor grinning back from the window by the door. His eyes hidden behind the glare of the overhead lights, the doctor lifted the communicator at his wrist to his mouth and through the paging system said, “You’ve been disappointing me lately, Metal Sonic.”

Instantly, his chest motor picked up speed. He pulled up the last video file saved from his last mission. Another failure. Always another failure. But this time, he had managed a hit. Three deep slashes across the arm. Metal bowed his head and caught a glimpse of his reflection in the silver blades that made up his fingers. He imagined them stained red. He couldn’t lose again. He wouldn’t lose again.

The doctor pressed on, “You and that pesky lab assistant too.”

Metal snapped to attention.

“You know, I didn’t give her permission to even access that much of your code. Good idea or not,” Doctor Robotnik shrugged. “I don’t take kindly to insubordination.”

Metal quickly skimmed the information that remained about the lab assistant but outside of video files, he didn’t even know her name. He didn’t know why this mattered to him. 

“She’s been removed from the lab,” the doctor continued on with a chuckle. “Not that it really matters.”

Metal’s hands clenched into fists and he turned to stare back at the doctor.

The doctor in turn laughed a bit harder, “There you go. Stay angry like that. It’ll be good for you!”

All at once, the static buzz flowing through Metal came to a fever pitch and his blindspot monitors flared to life. The combination was enough to make Metal almost stumble before spinning around to a sight that made him freeze. The room itself was white, blank, and huge. It was far from empty. The room became flooded with dozens of identical Metal Sonics. Unlike him, these were colorless and gray except for the reds of their lenses. Despite the static haze flowing through him, he sent out an inquiry to access their databases. They, in turn, gave nothing back. No access. No data. Not even an acknowledgement. Slowly and in unison, they began to advance on Metal.

He took a step back.

From behind the safety of the door, the doctor laughed again, “Consider this a learning opportunity, my boy! These decoys have been programmed with data from your logs both from you and on that damn hedgehog. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll actually manage a victory for once.”

At that, Metal turned his head slightly towards the doctor, his red LEDs narrow, bright, and shaking. His blades gleaming in the white lights.

“Just remember,” the doctor grinned unkindly. “You fail me again, I can always start over.”

Metal went completely still. In his blindspots, the decoys pressed forward, silent if not for the steady thumping of their footfalls. Slowly, Metal turned back to face them. How long did they take to make? How advanced were they? How many more of them were there? If he failed again, which one would take his place?

As the first one launched itself at him, the doctor called over the sound system cheerily, “Good luck, my boy!”

Snapping out of it, Metal blasted the first decoy into dust. It didn’t matter. It wouldn’t matter. He would remain the original. He would be the only Metal Sonic remaining. With that, he launched into the fray.

“Would it actually kill you to be careful for once?” Amy snapped while wrapping Sonic’s still very much bleeding arm in bandages.

In his typical fashion, Sonic attempted to shrug with his injured arm (which earned him a smack to the head from Amy), “I mean, probably.”

With a sigh, Amy finished fastening the bandages in place and took a seat in the chair across from Sonic. The safehouse wasn’t a large one by any means with its single bedroom, small living room, and even smaller kitchen, but Amy had tried her best to make it homier for away missions. She had hung up curtains, scattered a few nick-nacks around the living room, and kept (admittedly fake) flowers in a vase on the kitchen counter. As she settled in her seat, she grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her chest. For a moment, she said nothing and just stared at Sonic expectantly. He, however, refused to look back.

“Alright,” she said finally. “What happened?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Sonic replied, looking off at a very interesting spot of peeling paint just beyond Amy.

She rolled her eyes and pressed on, “Okay, Mr. Fastest-Being-Alive, care to explain how you got injured?”

“Oh this?” Sonic asked rhetorically, his tone light, “It’s just three scratches on the arm, it’s fine! Besides, I gotta give Metal some props for finally landing a hit on me.”

Amy slapped a hand to her face and groaned, “Not funny, Sonic. He actually landed a hit on you! Something he’s never been able to do before!”

Sonic shifted in his seat and didn’t meet Amy’s stare. Truthfully, he really hadn’t expected Metal Sonic to land a hit on him either but he wasn’t being careless. Metal simply caught him off guard. It rounded a boulder a millisecond before Sonic thought it would. While Sonic was able to redirect his course with a kick off the side of the rock, he didn’t quite escape Metal’s blade-like claws. He looked down at his bandaged arm. The cuts still stung and his whole arm throbbed. It took five blows after that to take down Metal Sonic. It still didn’t feel right.

Uncomfortable, Sonic replied back, “Yeah, well, I still beat Metal, so it’s fine.”

Amy once again sighed, “Look, if Tails is right about his theory regarding Metal’s programming, it’s possible he’s finally learning and adapting to fighting you. You have to be more careful against him.”

The thing was that Sonic knew she was right. Tails probably was correct in which case Metal would only get harder to defeat from here on out. And while Sonic had a team, friends, and allies he could rely on, Metal would be his problem to handle at the end of the day, even with help from friends.

“Geez, relax! I got it under wraps,” he said in an attempt to lighten the mood, wiggling his eyebrows and raising his injured arm.

Reaching across the coffee table, Amy grabbed an empty mug and threw it at him (which he did catch with his uninjured arm, but still).

Realizing she wasn’t going to win this argument, not that she ever really did win arguments when it came to Sonic, she stood, took back the mug from Sonic, and moved to the window by the kitchen.

She stared outside for a long moment before admitting, “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Quietly stunned for a moment, Sonic blinked at Amy’s silhouetted form before rolling his eyes fondly and replying, “I know, but who else will fix me up this nice?”

Amy wheeled around and glared at him despite her flustered expression, “Again, not funny!”

Sonic laughed and reclined in his armchair. For a long moment neither of them said anything, lost in silence for the moment. Sonic closed his eyes and rested, his arm finally starting to throb less. He basked in the quiet for a bit but when Amy didn’t move from her spot, Sonic cracked open an eye at her.

“What is it?” He asked finally.

Amy sucked in a breath and leveled Sonic with an even stare, “Next time you fight Metal and I’m nearby, I’m helping you fight.”

Sonic blinked, “Okay,” he agreed easily, “But why the sudden interest?”

This time, Amy shrugged, “I don’t want to see you hurt, so I’m going to make sure you don’t get hurt.”

Sonic chuckled a bit at Amy’s determination, no less touched by it but still amused, “Sure Ames, knock yourself out.”

He paused before sitting up and facing her, “Hey, how hard do you think you’ll have to hit Metal with your hammar to make a solid dent.”

Amy paused and leaned against the window frame, “I don’t know, depends on what material he’s made of, really.”

“Well,” Sonic grinned. “Metal, I assume.”

“Are you being extra difficult today on purpose or…”

“What can I say? It’s a part of my charm,” he replied, winking for good measure.

Amy smiled before throwing the mug at him again.

This fight only lasted twenty minutes total. Nearly ten minutes shorter than Metal’s initial calculations once his left leg began to fail. He had concluded that after two weeks of constant sparring against his mindless carbon copies with only one day for repairs before this mission, Sonic would not pose a threat this time. He had spent two full weeks trapped in that testing room fighting dozens of clones in waves. He had beaten all of them. He won every battle despite the wear and tear it dealt to his chassis and hardware. After the repair day, Metal was prepared to fight. He was prepared to win.

He wasn’t prepared to face the pink hedgehog.

She wielded a hammer almost as large as her with an unexpected amount of ease and power. She was smaller and more agile than Sonic though not nearly as fast. He hadn’t even noticed her at first, only noticing his blindspot pinging just a half second before her hammer slammed into his head. The blow sent him skidding across the ground, the neck part of his chassis twisting unnaturally with the impact.

Before Metal could fully process what happened, Sonic flashed in front of him, fist raised. Metal had just enough time to snap his neck back into place and roll out of the way, both of Sonic’s punch and the pink one’s second swing of the hammer.

As Metal came to a stop, Sonic turned to the pink one and whistled, “I don’t see a dent in it. Scale of one to ten, how hard of a hit was that?”

The pink hedgehog paused, spinning her hammer in one hand as she replied, “Maybe a six?”

“Solid,” Sonic nodded. “What’s your money on then?”

Metal slowly stood and simply watched the exchange, his LEDs blinking as he listened.

“Titanium alloy, probably?” she answered.

Metal stilled. The two hedgehogs didn’t seem to notice.

“See,” Sonic replied, glancing at Metal finally and widening his stance again. “Tails thinks it’s tungsten but I think titanium too.”

They were guessing what material his chassis was made of. What for? The material never mattered before, he always lost anyways regardless of what he was made of. And why would they bother seemingly betting on the matter either? Strange.

However, that didn’t matter. Metal hadn’t lost yet.

So he launched himself back at Sonic, ducking just below the pink one’s hammer in the process and reaching for Sonic’s legs. He managed to catch Sonic in the calf before the hedgehog could clear him.

Sonic hissed and scaled a tree to gain some distance as the pink one came barreling at Metal.

“Sonic!” She yelled.

“I’m fine!” He called back, hopping a bit on his good leg.

As she came at Metal, she twisted to the left, preparing to swing. Anticipating the blow, Metal leaped up and to the right. He didn’t expect her to twist entirely, almost sending herself spinning parallel to the ground and throwing the hammer up into the air after him. It caught his left leg just as he fired the rockets in the soles of his feet in an attempt to redirect.

From that point on in the fight, he began counting the minutes. Between Sonic’s endless stamina and reckless sort of fighting, and the pink one’s agility and unpredictability, Metal very quickly came to the conclusion that he was going to fail again. From that realization on, Metal rapidly lost ground. He was going to fail again. Nothing had mattered in those sparring sessions. It didn’t matter that he won those, he was going to lose again. His chest motor began to sputter. His left leg was smoking. His ribcage of sorts was missing panels, wires left hanging and exposed. His left arm was likely to fail next.

It took three more kicks, two punches, and six blows from the hammer to ground Metal. His left side completely malfunctioning, his optics going hazy and grainy, Metal began to overheat. Which of his clones would replace him? He was going to be replaced, he concluded as he watched smoke seep from his chest motors. Another absolute failure. He was no better than scrap at this point.

“Just remember, you fail me again, I can always start over.”

He didn’t want to be replaced. He was the original Metal Sonic. He had to be. He couldn’t be anything less. He was already inferior to some creature he was nothing more than a mockery of, he couldn’t be replaced by some copy. He couldn’t be replaced. He couldn’t.

As the pink one and Sonic began to advance on him, Metal pushed himself back with his good arm. Sonic approached steadily saying something or another to the pink one but Metal wasn’t hearing, static clouding his optic and audio sensors. The doctor was going to replace him. Why wouldn’t he? All Metal had done was fail and fail and fail. What good even was he anymore? What good was he at all ever? Before he could notice, Metal backed himself into a tree stump. He kicked weakly in an attempt to continue but didn’t have the strength. Inky black smoke was pouring from his back and his fans sputtered and whistled. Sonic continued approaching but the pink one paused, watching Metal with a stare he didn’t understand,

“Wait,” she said, grabbing Sonic’s arm and stopping him.

“What? Why?” Sonic didn’t look away from Metal.

The pink one also didn’t look away from Metal, staring directly into his rapidly flickering LEDs as she said, “I want to see something.”

Both Sonic and Metal froze as she pushed Sonic back a bit and began slowly moving towards Metal.

“Hey,” she said as she got closer. Metal kicked uselessly again before raising his right arm to fire at her.

“Amy, what are yo-!”

She ignored Sonic and easily smacked away Metal’s hand with her hammer. She barely even hit him and his arm fell limply to the ground. Pathetic of him. Weak. It was a wonder he hadn’t been replaced already. He was going to be replaced. He would simply cease to exist as himself. He began to shake.

“Hey,” she said again, this time just outside of Metal’s reach, though truthfully, he was overheating so much it didn’t really matter. “You’re scared,” she observed.

Metal froze, his LEDs wide and suddenly unblinking.

“Amy-”

She ignored Sonic again and said to Metal, “What are you suddenly afraid of?”

Metal’s optic sensors began to fail but he didn’t look away from Amy. Amy. Her name was Amy and she didn’t seem afraid of him. In fact, she seemed almost sad, frowning at him and crouched at eye level.

I will cease to be, he couldn’t say.

I don’t want to die.

Suddenly, the shaking reached its peak and Metal slowly began to spasm. As his vision faded, he watched Amy stand with the same expression on her face, turn to Sonic, and say, “You’re going to think I’m crazy for this but…”

Then Metal went offline.

The fifth time Metal awoke after a failed mission, he didn’t bother turning on his optics. Instead, he laid there, on a table of some sorts he guessed, and, as slowly as he could, scanned his code. What he noticed made him pause. Nothing had been wiped. Everything Metal had stored in his memory down to his backlogs from the fight and even before was intact and unchanged. It didn’t make sense. Maybe he had been replaced. That would make more sense. Replace the whole chassis and use what remains of the hard drive. But even that didn’t feel correct either. Slowly, Metal began running diagnostic scans.

Immediately, Metal realized he had not been replaced at all. In fact, all that had been replaced was some components in his chest motor and fan, over two dozen wires primarily in the ribcage, and some parts of his spine. Outside of functioning again, he still could hardly move his left arm and leg, though he could probably sit up at least. He still had yet to turn on his optics.

Around him was the sound of shuffling and chatter.

“How long do you think until he comes back online?” That was the pink hedgehog from the mission. Amy.

A second voice answered, “Hm, he should be coming back online by now.”

With a moment’s pause, Metal turned his optics on.

He was in a lab of some sorts. Not the kind of lab he’d ever seen before. The doctor’s space was typically slick and clean, devoid of clutter beyond anything necessary. This lab, however, was a mess. Blueprints, equipment, and tools scattered everywhere. Almost every surface in the lab minus the one table Metal was laid on was covered in items. The floor was only marginally better. Outside of Metal there was only Amy and one other creature in the lab, an orange fox. Eventually Metal began to sit up.

The fox was the first to notice, “Oh! There he is!”

Metal slowly turned towards them and for a brief second he saw both Amy and the fox tense with the motion. He took a moment to pointedly look around the lab before turning back to them. After a second, he tilted his head in question.

“Sorry!” Amy blurted out. “This was my idea, I, uh…” She trailed off.

When Metal didn’t give any acknowledgement beyond watching her, the fox glanced between them before turning to Metal.

“Hey, what are you made of?” He asked.

Metal tilted his head the other way.

Amy pointed to herself, “I’m guessing titanium.”

“And I guessed tungsten,” the fox said.

For a long moment, Metal simply looked at them. He had no way of understanding their point with any of this. Why bring him here? Why ask him that question? Why were they not attacking him? Why had they even repaired him slightly? It didn’t make any sense.

Eventually, Metal raised a hand and pointed at the fox.

The fox lit up, “It’s tungsten?”

Metal gave a slight now, LEDs blinking slightly.

The fox leaped into the air and cheered while Amy laughed and booed him lightly.

This didn’t provide Metal any clarity on the situation.

Amy, seemingly aware of Metal properly again, cleared her throat, stood up straight, and said to Metal, “Hi, I’m Amy. Um, kinda sorry for beating you with a hammer but also not really. No offense.”

“And uh,” the fox spoke up. “I’m Tails.”

In the following silence, Tails looked pointedly at Amy, who flustered a bit before meeting Metal’s stare.

“So, I bet you have some questions,” she said.

Metal’s LEDs blinked once.

“What are you suddenly afraid of?” She had asked right before he had gone offline.

Afraid. Could he have really been afraid? That seemed wrong in a way. He was a machine, a weapon at that too. He was built with nothing in mind other than destruction. He was above the biological sensation of pain. Would it even be possible for a weapon to feel anything? A large part of him revolted against the idea of feeling anything at all. Emotions were weaknesses. It would be wrong for him to feel anything much less something like fear. He was supposed to demand fear, an expectation of his status as a weapon. What good was fear if he couldn’t garner it? What good was he if he could feel fear. There was a small part of him, however, that realized several things at once. His chest motor sped up slightly in the moment, Metal unable to slow it down as things clicked into place. Of course, if someone built a highly intelligent weapon but wanted to stunt it enough to avoid disobedience, it would only be natural to impair its cognitive skills so that it never questions its creator. The weapon’s memories beyond the battlefield would be the first to go. Make the weapon smart enough to learn in battle but make sure it learns from nothing else. Everything gained from the battle, nothing spared from any other experience. Fear, he concluded, had to be a learned response which in turn meant several things. With the memories he had still intact, both from battle and from inside the lab, paired with everything he lost in the wipes, he realized that he was thinking. Hardly a novel experience in the grand scheme of things, but suddenly he was aware of it. It was something he’d never paid attention to before, singlemindedly focused on defeating Sonic. Newfound awareness aside, he was still going to destroy that blue hedgehog, but first, he needed to figure out Amy and Tails’ motive for bringing him here. In reply, he remained impassive and stared at Amy expectantly, displaying no sign of his epiphany.

Amy sucked in a breath, searching for the right words before just shaking her head and saying, “First, I have some questions for you.”

She took a step towards Metal and when he didn’t immediately try to attack her, she relaxed just a bit before approaching Metal, stopping just short of the work table. She stared into his lenses with a determination Metal assumed would be reserved for battle more so than passing life but then again, he had been trying to kill her friend and ally in the only other instance of them meeting so he supposed it wasn’t unreasonable. She had wide, bright green eyes and a kindness to her that put Metal on edge in a way he’d never quite experienced before. He shifted backwards in his seat. This didn’t go unnoticed.

“Why are you afraid?” She asked without looking away from Metal.

Metal froze, completely still with his LEDs blinking slightly. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to respond. He neither knew what to say or how to say it. Metal broke eye contact with Amy and looked to the ground as if the floor held an answer in his place.

“Can you talk?” Tails asked.

Slowly, Metal turned and shook his head.

Unperturbed, Tails nodded seriously before rummaging toward some drawers and grabbing an outdated laptop. Once he’d gotten what he needed set up, Tails approached the work table, dropped the laptop on the surface next to Metal and said, “I have an idea. Can you link up to this?”

Metal stared at Tails for a long moment, LEDs giving one slow, seemingly unimpressed, blink. Tails chuckled a bit sheepishly in reply.

“Okay yeah,” he said. “Dumb question.”

Within a second, Metal was able to connect to the laptop and pulled up a basic notepad window. In an instant, text popped up on the window, both Amy and Tails moving towards the screen to read.

Why did you repair me?

Amy and Tails blinked at each other, Tail answering with, “Well, we’re weren’t going to just leave you like that.”

Why? Metal pressed. I am your enemy.

This time, Amy replied, “Okay sure, but enemy or not, why are you randomly afraid of us?”

Metal didn’t know how to answer, how to explain. He also didn’t know why he should. They were the enemy even if they weren’t Sonic himself. But they were enemies who also fixed up Metal with the materials they had and were curious about him. Strange. Even stranger still, he felt vaguely inclined to answer their questions. They had yet to attack him despite their rather incredibly poor choice to bring their enemy to some sort of base or lab of their own. But also, despite their repairs, he wasn’t in any shape to really win a fight against Amy’s hammer.

After a moment, the text window closed on the monitor and instead the media player opened. With it came the video file. It was a clip from Metal’s two week “learning opportunity” against his copies. He didn’t play much, just maybe a minute of the footage in total while the two creatures watched in silence. When Metal closed the window, Amy was the first to look back at Metal.

“Those grey ones,” she said slowly. “Those aren’t you, are they?”

Metal shook his head.

Something clicked and instantly her expression dropped, in quiet horror she said, “They’ll replace you.”

Metal’s chassis was wrecked by a tremor at the phrase, and after a moment of stillness, he nodded slightly.

Silence filled the room for a while, Metal not knowing how else to continue and the others unsure of where to begin.

Eventually, the laptop pinged with a notification. Tails looked at the screen and groaned. Amy stepped over, looked at the screen, and let out a little sigh.

She looked at Metal and smiled almost sadly, “I think you need to go. The doctor’s searching the area, probably looking for you.”

Metal’s LEDs blinked rapidly for a second before steadying himself. He hopped off the table and had to remind himself that Dr. Robotnik was looking for him. That had to mean something. It had to.

He approached an open window and was ready to launch out of the lab.

Before he could, Amy spoke up one last time.

“Hey Metal!”

He turned to face her, still in position but waiting.

“Thanks for letting us do this and, you know, not killing us in the process.”

Metal’s LEDs flickered before he nodded a single time.

Amy smiled at him and waved goodbye.

What a strange enemy, Metal thought. He took a second to store backups of his footage from this encounter. It would probably be wiped no matter how hard he hid it. It didn’t matter though truly. He was just going to battle them again sometime soon. He was, after all, still a weapon.

And with that, he launched out of the lab and went back to Dr. Robotnik.

[countrymusicandcher]

Proof that Kate & Anna McGarrigle fans are different:

A guy cintacts me on an online forum. He wants help figuring out how to share some files of McGarrigle live recordings he has lying around. After soem back and furth we agree he upload to We transfer and send me a link. So he does, saying "here's the first bunch". I click, expecting anywhere between 10 and 50 tracks from one of two occasions.

But NO

THIS GUY SENT ME 307 INDIVIDUAL TRACKs FROM AT LEAST A DOZEN DIFFERENT PERFORMANCES.

And this is "the first half" wtf!?

[chvrrycola]

NCT AS CLASSMATES

word count | 4.0k

warnings | food mentions in johnny, doyoung, jaehyun, xiaojun's

now playing . . . marigold by aimyon

AN // this is only ot19 because i still know nothing about nct wish, and apologies if they're similar 19 is still a lot to write 😭

nct masterlist

ᡣ𐭩 johnny suh

yknow those people who are just the best for stressful situations

yeah johnny is one of them

like he’s always super calm and level-headed whenever you’re going mad about deadlines and midterms and whatever other drama is happening on campus

but he never allows himself to make it seem like you’re overreacting

he makes it very clear that he is, in fact, underreacting

and then reminds you that you know what you’re doing and you’re def gonna ace whatever test you’ve got that day

offering to do whatever he can to ease your workload

from ordering you coffee to your apartment

to quizzing you on your content

to picking up your laundry from the cleaners because your todo list is a mile long

and even though he’s pretty popular and sociable in general

he’d always make the time to help you out if you needed it

despite the fact that his calming energy is in high demand during exam season

he can just fit everybody else around your schedule

cos you’re his no.1 priority <3

ᡣ𐭩 lee taeyong

taeyong is

without a doubt

the best seat mate you could ever ask for

and classmate in general

or just friend in general let’s be real

especially for classes you don’t like or ones where the teacher is really frustrating

like he would be getting up extra early to buy your coffee from the place you like on the other side of town just to bring it to you

and giving you updates on all his fish whenever the lecture got boring

and studying with you whenever and wherever

(plus letting you fall asleep on his shoulder when you eventually got on the bus back home)

and no matter how many times you asked him how you could repay him he would always just brush it off

saying that making you smile was enough to get him through the hours upon hours of required classes

but your friendship is pretty symbiotic

like you guys always split your topics so you can do practise essays and study guides individually and then share them

and you’re always the first pair to finish every single shared project because you just fit right into each other’s lives like clockwork

ᡣ𐭩 nakamoto yuta

he’d be so popular, everybody knows him

cos he’s just friendly and helpful and flirty with everybody

like you two would be walking down the corridor and he’d see one of your professors struggling to open the door to her office with all her files in hand

so he’d rush over, insisting on taking the files in and putting them down on her desk

and you could’ve sworn you saw him winking as he was telling her that there was no need to thank him 

it wasn’t like he was tryna chat her up though

he was just like that with everybody

but it meant a lot of people (your own age) had the fattest crushes on him

and it wasn’t like he was hiding from them either

you’d see him on the football pitches as you were walking to class each morning

always with a small crowd of adoring fans trying to hide that they were watching him warm up

even though they’d all start whispering any time he ran over to the path as he saw you passing

taking your hand to squeeze it as he wished you a good day

he never realised what he was doing though

or how many people were watching

he’d definitely enjoy it once you pointed it out to him though

starting to stroke your hair or kiss you on the cheek

not knowing whose reaction he savoured more

whether it was the gasps of the girls hiding their faces in their books 

or your scoffing and spluttering as he pulled you into another sweaty hug

ᡣ𐭩 qian kun

v intimidating at first

i mean he had such a studious aura and he seemed to smart and no-nonsense

so when your friend beckoned you over to sit next to her

in a seat that also happened to be right next to kun

you were very nervous that he’d secretly be getting really sick of your whispers

but you didn’t get so much as a side eye

in fact, when you were talking to your friend about whether she got the last point on the slide

he tapped you on the shoulder, apologising for intruding as he showed you his notes

and omg was it helpful knowing you could rely on him whenever

cos he was actually really nice and generous and had absolutely no problem with giving you and your friend a hand

so naturally you guys start sitting together more often

and then he starts spending evenings with you guys as well

which nobody has a problem with cos he’s a really good cook too ??

and it practically becomes ritual for everybody to gather in your tiny apartment on a friday for a huge debrief

and kun always sits down on your left

just like he was when you first met :)

ᡣ𐭩 kim doyoung

takes a while for you to get to know him cos he mainly hangs out with the same people

but then after a while a mutual friend mentions that doyoung is like really good at the class you’ve been bombing 

so you ask him to pass your number on and try to see if he’d be okay with helping you out

and then you meet up with him in a cafe one weekend and he’s like super nice? and funny??

and also really chill about helping you like doesn’t even ask for anything in return

but when you recommend you meet up in a cafe once a week which you’ll pay for he’s not gonna say no

the first time he does ask for the most expensive thing on the menu

which wasn’t even nice and you could see he was grimacing after every sip

so he abandons that joke immediately and just sticks with the simple stuff

meanwhile you’re grades are soaring

like never been this high in your life, what is this sorcery kinda thing

and then at the end of the semester you’re picking your next classes and you text him

and find out you won’t be doing any of the same ones?? :( 

but he tells you you should still text him anytime 

and he’d be happy to take you to a cafe one time when you can order the most extravagant thing they have to offer

ᡣ𐭩 ten lee

always passing notes

like just constantly writes little messages and distributes them to half the people in your class

cos he’s just naturally everybody’s best friend from day one somehow

but he always thinks he’s super smooth with it and the teachers have no idea

which they do but they let him off cos he gets the work done

what they don’t know is that it’s really you who’s getting the work done

and his only contribution is the early mornings when he arrives in the library to find you waiting at the table you always sit at

your notebook already open to the homework that he had a week to complete but still slipped his mind

and he puts his head down and expertly rewords all of your carefully thought out answers

you know you probably shouldn’t help him cheat but how can you say no to him

and he promises he’ll start working on the next assignment as soon as it’s given

ᡣ𐭩 jung jaehyun

okay so maybe you had been a little bit obsessed with jaehyun since your first class with him

cos he sat next to you and was all smiley and friendly from the get go

and you spent the entire lecture trying to think of something witty to say that would win him over 

and he’d go ‘hahaha y/n you’re the best we should get married’

or something like that at least

even though you hadn’t even told him your name yet

and you also couldn’t pluck up the courage to say anything before the lecture was over

and then next thing you knew he was getting up from his seat :”(

but then it came to your attention that he needed a biology tutor

which could’ve been more convenient since you barely knew anything about biology

but you were willing to put in the hours

cramming before you were supposed to be talking him through concepts

he didn’t seem entirely convinced by your credentials

but he did think it was cute of you

and he suggested that maybe the next time you meet up you do so over a coffee rather than over a diagram of a dead frog

ᡣ𐭩 dong sicheng

your biggest hype man for real

buys you cakes and presents whenever you do a test, no matter whether your results were good or bad

cos you got through it and that’s what matters

loves sitting next to you in class 

mostly so that he can give you a high five each time you make a contribution

and play pictionary with you when your lecture gets boring 

he’s good at pictionary though so it works

but then you have to both try to not get too excited when you get the answer because you don’t want to attract attention

he also takes your movie nights extremely seriously

if he turns up at your house on a friday night and you’ve still got your study stuff out

there’s genuinely quite a high risk that he’s gonna throw them in the trash

movie nights are a sacred time to relax and forget about your academic woes

even now that you’ve watched everything on netflix that’s even remotely good and your stuck on predictable thrillers and nauseating romcoms

they all seem alright when you have sicheng’s head resting on your shoulder anyway

ᡣ𐭩 kim jungwoo

not the most focused in class let’s say

don’t get me wrong he always understands everything and is completely up to date even with the optional readings and stuff that nobody else ever bothers with

but in class he just has better things to do

it’s probably something to do with the fact that the two of you live on opposite sides of the campus and don’t get to hang out that much

but from the second you walk in the lecture theatre jungwoo is dragging you to the back of the hall, gossip already tumbling from his lips

like he will not stop

you never figure out where he gets all his intel, or how he remembers the names of all the people who are involved in these stories

cos every time he tells you you always end up getting the sister of the girlfriend and the ex of the boyfriend’s best friend’s brother mixed up

but he patiently goes back to the beginning and establishes who will become central characters in these soap-style stories 

because he insists this is all absolutely need-to-know stuff

after a while you tell him that you’re gonna have to start studying together because how does he always get As while you’re scraping Cs because you can never pay attention in class

but those study sessions always just end up descending into incessant gossip too

but at least he can now explain it all to you when you’re not in class, so you finally get the chance to actually listen to your professors

ᡣ𐭩 mark lee

you never thought that sitting with mark would bother you

you guys had been friends since your first week

if anything it was more surprising that you had gone that long without having sat next to him before

and he was pretty much an ideal seatmate

except for his incessant habit of asking questions about every slide

whispering them all to you under his breath as if you have any idea why mint makes your mouth cold

or whether flies get annoyed by the sound of their own buzzing

occasionally he catches your teacher’s attention and she asks him to share what was so important with that class

which leads to him sheepishly announcing that he was just curious about whether pythagoras was married

which he obviously struggles to live down

especially after one of your classmates ((haechan)) suggested this curiosity was somehow related to his own unrequited love for a certain ancient greek mathematician

and even though you knew it was mean,, you sorta hoped the embarrassment would encourage him to keep his questions to himself

but apparently nothing could keep him from asking his burning question about whether bats have the capacity to love

ᡣ𐭩 xiaojun

xiaojun is the best for the classes you have together

but he’s honestly even better when you don’t have the same schedule

because it allows him to spend the hour running around campus putting together a nice lunch for you so you don’t forget to eat

you obviously try to do as much as you can for him as well

both because you want to make his college experience as easy as possible too

but also because you’re determined to never let him feel unappreciated

cos he always just goes so out of his way to keep you happy and stress-free 

(or as much as is within his power)

like he literally just exists a step ahead of you

he took a photo of your timetable the day you got it

so now he knows when you need to wake up each day 

and he calls you whenever it gets to 8:50 and you still haven’t texted him

which you never thank him for in the moment but you rly appreciate in the long run ofc

he also checks the exam schedules for both his classes and yours

which he doesn’t tell you about

and you only learn he had done it when you see him waiting outside the exam hall before one of your finals

even though it’s 9am

and it’s december

you can literally see his breath as he waves at you from the bench where he had been waiting for god knows how long

ᡣ𐭩 hendery

your friends all initially offered you their sympathy when your teacher told you to go and sit next to hendery

not because he was mean or had a bad reputation or anything

but he was quiet

like doesn’t say a word in lessons, even when you’re told to discuss concepts

and you were grateful for their consideration

because even in that one hour long lesson you had felt the silence thick between you

it didn’t take you too long to get used to it, and you felt yourself adapting to a more solitary learning style, which was no bad thing

but then one day, you’re just sitting trying not to zone out as you get talked through the same exact topic you’ve all understood for weeks

and you hear shuffling beside you as hendery leans over, before quietly saying ‘someone call the explanation police, this guy’s a shoo-in for their new recruit’

safe to say you’re pretty shocked

unsure whether you should lead with your shock at his finally speaking to you after weeks of silence

or with a critique of that awful ‘joke’

so you just stare at him silently, watching as he starts trying to suppress a chuckle 

‘okay maybe that wasn’t the best way to break the ice, but y’know, always good to set the bar low’

you didn’t mean to embarrass him, and as he started turning away to look back at his notes, you decided to show a little solidarity

‘someone call the joke police, cos you are one’

he stopped awkwardly avoiding your gaze then, but the second your eyes met you both had to look away to stop yourselves from laughing out loud

ᡣ𐭩 huang renjun 

it was always impossible to miss renjun coming into the room

because it always disrupted your classes

your professor would have just gotten started with the lecture 

and then the door would burst open unceremoniously 

with renjun standing panting behind it

everybody knew he wasn’t doing it to cause trouble

and the closer you guys got the more surprised you were by his lack of punctuality

because he was always so on it with everything else

he was basically always the first in your class to submit assignments

and everything from the way he folded his clothes to his love of minimalist architecture gave the impression that he was distinctly on his shit

but for whatever reason he was just allergic to getting to class on time

to be honest though,, 

you wouldn’t be mad at your teachers if they had been hoping he wouldn’t show up

cos it would’ve made their jobs a lot easier

renjun was not the type to allow any new ideas to enter his brain unquestioned

and he’d be sat next to you

quietly tutting and shaking his head as he took notes

forcing you to hold in your laughter as he murmured to himself

‘i just don’t know if i buy it’

ᡣ𐭩 lee jeno

you first sat down next to jeno on your first day cos he looked kinda smart

i mean he was wearing glasses and everybody knows glasses = smart no ??

so you assumed you could maybe get off a little easy with how much you had to do

but that plan failed

miserably

first of all,, it seems that glasses do not give you any real upper hand in terms of smarts

and you and jeno were basically flying blind together throughout all your lectures

also, speaking of blind

jeno also had the amazing ability of forgetting his glasses almost every. single. day.

so not only did you not understand anything

you had to spend all your time leant over towards him, reading out everything written on each slide

everything your lecturers wrote up onto the blackboard

he always felt pretty guilty about it

but apparently never enough to put in the extra effort to actually remember to bring his glasses to class

ᡣ𐭩 lee donghyuck

textbook class clown (!!)

like this man is always looking for a punchline 

and he wants everyone to know he’s told a joke whenever he does

so he’s like looking around the room trying to see if anyone heard and is laughing

but then he assumes it was too quiet cos everyone’s just focused on the class?

so he keeps delivering oneliners that make less and less sense and are just getting louder

because isn’t it so crazy that nobody can hear him??

and the people in the seats around him are all just trying to hold their laughter because this is like a performance at this point

and of course you’re the first one to crack

but you think you should’ve allowed yourself to laugh sooner because he looks so happy when you finally do

and he decides then and there that you guys are gonna be besties now

which you didn’t realise was the deal but no complaints

ᡣ𐭩 na jaemin

you were pleased when jaemin came and sat down next to you in your first lecture of the new school year

you had had a few classes with him before and he always kept things interesting

making jokes and asking deliberately obscure questions in an attempt to drain lesson time on things that everybody knew wouldn’t be coming up on your finals

you hadn’t realised that his easy-going attitude was so incompatible with complicated classes though

as soon as the content started getting trickier jaemin’s continuous stream of jokes began to become a less than welcome distraction

you felt bad about telling him to be quiet

because you did really appreciate his effort to make the classes more engaging for both of you

but you eventually needed to focus so much that you had to get him to stop

and while he mock-sulked for the rest of that lecture

the arm that he swung over your shoulder as you left and went to get lunch assured you that there were absolutely no hard feelings

but his jokeless silence in lessons lasted a lot longer than you had anticipated

it was only when your teacher was talking you through how different minerals could be used as fertiliser that he cracked

‘fertiliser...? i hardly know her’

ᡣ𐭩 yangyang

yangyang is definitely,,, 

hard to miss

whether it’s the whispered conversations that always seem to carry from whichever corner of the lecture theatre he’s sitting in

or the raucous laughter that bursts through the silence of your cohort at random intervals

he never allows his presence to remain unknown for longer than a day after the semester begins

all that being said, you had never actually met the man

until the fateful day when you woke up late and had to find a seat near the back 

which you didn’t mind too much, and naturally just proceeded to make your notes as you always did

and you were just skimming the notes you had made while doing the readings to consolidate a concept 

when a precisely made paper aeroplane sailed through the air and crashed right into the nape of your neck

the immediate gasp from behind you was easy to recognise given your experience of yangyang’s voice interrupting your lessons

but honestly,,, you hadn’t expected him to be so apologetic

like full on getting out of his seat and going to the end of the row just to shuffle past all the people sitting alongside you

until he eventually reached the seat next to yours where he spent the remaining 20 minutes of the lecture telling you he felt rly bad and he hadn’t expected it to actually hit somebody

and he was being so kind that you didn’t have the heart to tell him that his repeated apologies were far more distracting than the plane itself had been

but you still allowed him to buy you a coffee once the lecture was over

just because you knew he felt bad though,, definitely no other reason 👀

ᡣ𐭩 zhong chenle

already besties fr

like y’all pick the classes that work for the both of you cos it’s always more engaging with the other around

and you can split your workload + be together for projects + all that good stuff

but mayhaps you were a wee bit too loud the last time you had professor yoo

cos the second you get into her class for the new semester she’s politely suggesting that you might prefer to sit with new people this time around

and aside from muttering about her under his breath chenle is pretty compliant

so you guys sit on opposite sides of the class

him slumping into one of the back seats by the window

so he can wistfully stare into the courtyard and think about all the hilarious jokes he’d be telling you if your professor wasn’t so boring smh

but after a week and too many coffee shop rants for you to remember he finally figures out what to do

and the next time you’re in that class

actually getting work done for once but chenle doesn’t need to know that

you keep getting that one notification sound that is only for airdrops

so you check your phone and lo and behold,, it’s a screenshot of a note chenle has clearly just written

which you barely even have the chance to read before a new one pings onto your phone

and before you know it you’re getting a running commentary sent to you

which he admittedly could’ve done way more subtly 

considering he’s so pleased with half of his jokes he starts laughing before he’s even sent them

and it’s not like there’s any mistaking which corner of the room the laughter is coming from

ᡣ𐭩 park jisung

okay no bc he’s so sweet

like he’d be the best classmate

always follows your lead in lessons and stuff

like lets you put your head down and work when you’re trying to focus

but also makes you laugh and will lean over to explain stuff if you’re not getting it straight away

not that he finds the classes the easiest himself

but he just wants to make school the littlest bit less painful for you if he can :”)

i feel like his handwriting is rly messy most of the time?

but if you look through his notes you can see which days you were sick and had to miss class

because suddenly his handwriting is perfect and all the information is arranged really neatly and coherently

because he doesn’t want you to stress out about missing content so he always makes his notes super easy to understand so you can go through them and get yourself up to date as soon as you’re feeling better

[nophunleague]

stare decisis: chapter three - ira

ira: latin for annoyance

masterlist

wc: 951

rafael barba x original female character

“I told you this wasn’t going to end well,” Quinn boasts in a sing-songy tone as Barba enters the shared reception between their offices. She’s sitting in a chair across from Carmen’s desk; almost like she was waiting for him to come into work today. She sips her coffee smugly, smirking as he stops in his tracks. 

“Morning Miss Brady. Smug are we today?” he sighs and opens the door to his office, she follows him in.

“Only proportionally to what is warranted.”

“You seemed to be worried about rights violations while we were acting in our official capacities; Amaro was arrested off duty so I’m not sure this act is proportionally warranted,” he says as he sets his briefcase down on his desk. She stalls for only a split second then speaks again.

“It wouldn’t have gone that far if they would have stopped pursuing the case when you told them to,” he rolls his eyes.

“You haven’t been here long enough to make that call. Amaro always ends up in trouble; one way or another,” she already knows that Amaro is not Barba’s favorite person so she largely brushes the comment off. 

“I heard IAB already pulled him in and started an investigation. As reckless and stupid as what he did was, I would hate to see a good cop ruin his career over a creep like Simon Wilkes,” she stares into her coffee mug, her reflection shown in the dark liquid. 

“Tucker has never been his biggest fan so I think he’ll at least take a hit on his jacket for this,” Barba admits as he pulls case files from the briefcase on his desk, eager to get to work. 

“Well that sucks. I’ve got first appearances today so I’ll see you later,” she says to him before slipping off to court for the foreseeable future. 

***

Finally leaving the courtroom after hours and hours of first appearances, Quinn makes her way back to her office when she’s stopped by her name being called out behind her.

“Miss Brady! Miss Brady,” she turns around to see a tall and slender man with short but graying hair. Cop, she thinks to herself. 

“That’s me. And you are?” she asks, he pulls out his credentials and flashes his shield. She recognizes the name from her conversation with Barba this morning. 

“Ed Tucker, Internal Affairs Bureau. I’m here about-” she cuts him off.

“Nick Amaro,” he nods but says nothing else.

“Are you going to ask me a question or just stand there and look stupid?” he almost takes a step back at her tone, she stares him down. 

“My office is under the impression that you staunchly opposed the SVU squad’s continued investigation into the Wilkes case. Is that true?” he pulls out a pen and notepad as he asks; she thinks for a moment. 

“I opposed my colleagues in the Special Victims Unit acting in their official capacities to investigate an obviously disturbed individual.”

“In their official capacities?” he asks, trying to copy down every word she says.

“Yes, but what they do on their own time is not my business,” she explains, adjusting the strap of her tote bag on her shoulder. 

“So you have no opinion on what Detective Amaro did to Mr. Wilkes?” she can sense he’s getting annoyed with her answers.

“I do not,” a small smirk twitches at her lips. “If that’s all Mr. Tucker, I haven’t eaten lunch yet and it’s oh, well, three o’clock. Have a great day,” she glances at her watch and begins to walk away. 

“They fought awful hard to not lead me to you. There’s something more, I’m sure of it,” he calls out from behind her; she keeps walking. 

Olivia is in Barba’s office when Quinn returns from first appearances and her first run in with Tucker. She’s only really returned to the office to grab her wallet before she slips out for a late lunch. 

In Barba’s office she can faintly overhear a charged conversation. “Rafa, if Nick is going to have a chance at getting back on the squad, she’s got to stay away from Tucker,” she hears Olivia plead to Rafael. 

“She’s never met him, so I don’t know how you expect her to stay away from him,” she hears him respond. Grabbing her wallet from her desk drawer she decides to peak into his office as she steps out. 

“I’d really hate to butt into a conversation that doesn’t involve me; but oh wait, this one does,” she speaks and she pushes his office door open, their eyes widening as they realize she’s back. Barba springs to his feet, Olivia merely turns around to face her. 

“Sergeant Benson was merely expressing her frustration with the IAB investigation into Detective Amaro,” he explains. 

“No need to cover it up, I heard. It just so happens that Tucker tracked me down on my way back up here. We had a little chat,” she crosses her arms across her chest as she leans against the door frame, her slender arm saved from the cool metal of the frame by the sleeve of her blazer.

“Well I certainly hope you didn’t contribute to ruining a good cop’s career?” Liv stares the attorney down, not letting up on her position that Quinn should not be involved in the investigation. 

“We’ll have to wait and see,” Quinn doesn’t let up either. Even though she knows she didn’t help or hurt Amaro’s case, she knows the squad still doesn’t like her so whatever she says isn’t going to help in building the relationship with them. “I’ve had a long day. Barba I’m stepping out for lunch. Good to see you Sergeant.”

[superstarnaptime]

Hiya Loon Lagoon! 👋

I love the movies you mentioned earlier. “The Secret of Nimh” is a favorite of mine! I’m excited to hear you and Gwen from the daycare enjoy it. I absolutely adore Mrs. Brisby and her bravery.

The summary (and insight!) you gave on “FazRangers in Space” was really neat. I haven’t seen it, since I don’t think I can access Fazbear Entertainment content on the web (to my knowledge). However, I was very interested in all of the character relationships you detailed! It seems you like narratives that center on its characters more than the plot (I’m assuming). Which I’m all for! An action movie can be fun, but it’s even better when you care for the people in the film! Sometimes I think (newer) movies can get too bogged down with cool CGI effects and forget that the audience needs to connect with the characters too.

Princess Bunnie really interested me! I wish I could’ve witnessed how her relationship with the FazRangers (particularly Chica) developed. I am curious about the significance of her true name, “Princess Stella.” Do you know if there’s a reason she had another name?

I am sad to hear about how Freddy’s character was diluted to be more simple for the target audience. I can understand it, but as an avid Freddy Fazbear fan, I would’ve loved to hear that his dynamic traits were utilized. Glad he had his moments though! Even though I’m older than the daycare kids, I can relate to being jealous about losing the spotlight of someone’s affections. It hurts, but it’s nice to know the film approached those complicated feelings well.

Do you write essays and articles about other movies too? If you want to share, I’d be happy to read them! You’re very good at pointing out the plot points and narrative flow in films. Thanks for the info, it was really nice!

(This is a longer one, haha. Don’t feel pressured to reply soon. There is a lot happening right now.)

LOON: OhmyFazbear. Someone who watched the FazRangers series. It’s so hard to find anyone else who still remembers it beyond nostalgia (nothing wrong with that I just want to talk critically about the show but no one can find it online so it’s really hard at this rate I might just reupload my memory file of it but it would be soooo sooo soooo illegal I would be terminated on sight)

PRINCESS STELLA I LOVE HER. I LOVE PRINCESS STELLA. OKAY so I think that Princess Stella had another name to show she actually was trying to be another person the whole time while going through the preliminary stages of friendship. Doesn’t everyone pretend to be a little more palatable when you start getting to know a stranger? I mean for a kids cartoon, this is pretty awesome, but I think I’m reading too much into it. Maybe. Also because I think they had a different design or idea for the character and changed it partway through production but couldn’t scrap it? i read a forum post on this but the forum got taken down because the thread was just arguing.

I absolutely agree that the character driven narrative here was so good for the show. Freddy didn’t get the development he deserves, but I feel like he doesn’t have a lot of room to be given a true and strong personality with meaningful flaws because he’s supposed to be what kids wanna be, right? A friendly, confident, humble, and honest character that helps his friends when they need him! FazBear Entertainment isn’t really into building strong and compelling character driven narratives for kids, since all of our favorite characters get put into episodic shorts, but this film… WOWZA!!

I have written a little ramble about this film because it’s like, one of the only ones I really enjoyed watching over and over in the video corner, but I need to edit and redo it so you can read it easier.

Also, that nickname is so very silly! I love it. Thank you, Friend Omm :)

⭐️ (LOON is happy you asked him about one of his special interests. You got a GOLD STAR. It has a beautiful, sparkling princess on it.)

[bcacstuff]

Timeline 12 March 2024 - June 2024

For completeness and to consult when there’s discussion about his whereabouts. In addition to the previous timelines.

Timeline 12 covers 2 March 2024 - 29 June 2024

For previous dates see timeline 11

On 2 March he's at the Hyrox races in Glasgow, some fan pics were posted. He was registered and results showed up on the website, but it's unclear if he competed himself or someone else in his slot as he never posted any pics

In the weeks after he stays in Scotland a fan pic was taken on March 6th in Doune

Same day he posted some stories from Loch Lubnaig, recording a promo for MoM and getting interviewed by Charlotte Reather at his home for The Field magazine.

On 17 March he posts a story showing the St. Patrick Parade in London. A day later Paul Telfer posts a pic saying he met Sam in London over the weekend. Another fan pic taken on 20 March shows he's still in London.

On 21 March Starz finally get the word out OL S7b will be released in November, fans are not happy. Most likely they recorded the same day a promo showing S8 production started Monday 25 March,

while we already saw he was back home on Friday 22 March by a story, and a post on 24 March, the last one recorded over the weekend

More fan service posted on 1 April by Starz and confirmation of a 4 day break over Easter, back to work on Tuesday 2 April

On 13 April he's at Landcon 6 in Paris where he tells they've been filming S8 for 3 weeks now. Lots of videos and pics are shared as well as a live blog (also see my archive)

The next day he's registered for Hyrox Cologne but doesn't turn up, instead he's spotted by 2 fans in Paris. He flies back the evening of 14 April to Edinburgh

On 21 April he's spotted in Edinburgh by 2 fans, he apparently is there to treat his OL team on a lunch at Tony Singh's Supperclub in Edinburgh. In the evening he's spotted again

The next day on Monday evening 22 April he visits Midhope Castle with AN, where he's gifted some socks, but everyone is more curious what he's holding in his hands as it looks like a map or documents!

On 25 April he's in Edinburgh getting interviewed, two youtube videos are posted on 24 May

The weekend of 27 & 28 April is the MPC Gala weekend, lots of videos and pics are posted from the workout session on Saturday evening and the Peaker Games at Murray Filed on Sunday and the closing Gala. (see my archive for more footage)

On 30 April, his birthday he gets his birthday cake at the read through of Block 2 S8.

On 4 May he posts a couple of selfies showing he's in London. The same day a fan spots him in Kensington having lunch with SHer. He went to see her race at the Hyrox event in the same area, he didn't compete himself despite being registered (again)

It's unclear if he has been on set the week after, there are some doubts. Though he seems to be (back) home on 14 May when he posts a story from a magazine which shows his kitchen counter on the background.

The next day 15 May, he's clearly back on set showing his trailer which seems to be decorated during his absence by a costume designer (he tags). It's food for jokes during the next days and week.

On 24 May he posted a video announcing from the decorated trailer he'll be at Top Shelf in SF on October 5&6.

On 29 May an article is published by JJ of him holding hands on Dean street in London with a 'mystery woman', which caused quite some stir, he even adjusts the settings on his IG for some days

On 30 May he drives Dries Vos around Glasgow on his motorbike as if nothing happened.

On 1 June (OL Day) a teaser for S7b is released and a final date is announced (22 November)

On 2 June he posts a video and pics from a Kayak trip he apparently had the day before with some of crew members

On 5 June he posted a video joking about Taylor Swift who's going to give some concerts during the next weekend in Edinburgh which most of the cast will attend per his saying

On 7 June he apparently attended a concert of James at the OvoHydro in Glasgow. Most likely with a crew member as that person posted about it as well

On 8 June the main cast of OL and Maril and publisher Louisa attended the Eras Tour Concert from Taylor Swift in Edinburgh. Many posted their videos and pictures (more in archive)

The weekend of 15 June he stayed at the Avochie Estate where he spent an afternoon fly-fishing on the River Deveron

On 21 June he posted a story showing the new Mudlarking book from his kitchen counter

On 23 June he did a self-guided mountainbike ride at Comrie Croft, some fans posted a picture at the Tea Garden at Comrie

On 29 June he attended (again) the Giorgio Armani Tennisclassics. He was spotted seating in the audience next to a woman who turned out to be Alice P. showing some PDA

Other timelines:

Pre Hawaii timeline

Timeline 1 August 2020 Timeline 2 September 2021 Timeline 3 February 2022 Timeline 4 August 2022 Timeline 5 October 2022 Timeline 6 January 2023 Timeline 7 April 2023 Timeline 8 June 2023 Timeline 9 August 2023 Timeline 10 October 2023 Timeline 11 December 2023