#genetic transfer my ass!

[sheena-is-a-punk-rocker]

YOU'RE RIGHT AND YOU SHOULD SAY IT

the absolutely worst genre of anti-martha posts have to be the ones where they make her out to be some kind of predator. “oh, but he put up such CLEAR boundaries! martha refused to respect them and kept making him uncomfortable!”

…you mean the same guy that did this?

insane but i digress. also the same guy that did this?

even more insane. brother i promise you didn’t have to do all that. you could have spat and it would have worked.

also the same guy that did this:

you get what i’m saying.

my point is that he constantly blurs the lines of their relationship. kisses her, then tells her it was just a genetic transfer (doesn’t make sense), then he invites her to travel with him (oh just one more trip, oh just one more), shares A BED with her at HIS behest, and you lot can’t come to the conclusion that maybe martha is confused, that he’s sending mixed signals? no, she has to be a creep. get a grip icl

[thenaervassa]

Nah I’m good where I’m at 🥰

[cowboyfromh3ll]

You know how in the epilogue John works on Mr Geddes ranch and the wife invites him inside the house (basically hinting at you know what) well that sparked an idea for a request. Could you do an Arthur fic where the reader is in a similar situation where she isn’t on good terms with her husband and she knows he’s cheating on her so after Arthur starts working on their farm she takes a liking to him and they have sex.

Sugar On My Tongue

(Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Smut)

FINALLY UPLOADING A ONE SHOT YALL

Warnings: smut, infidelity

You found it hilarious that people thought you and your husband were the perfect couple based solely on looks. During the celebration following your wedding, his brother loudly and drunkenly declared just how attractive the two of you were, “a genetic match made in heaven.” he said, his words slurring together with noticeable envy. Later that night, his brother would have attempted to put a hand on your ass before throwing up in the grass behind your ranch. 

The two of you were needlessly attractive, and in your days working as a handmaid, you would have bragged endlessly about what a catch you got. Your fellow handmaids would’ve also raved on about just how good-looking he was, expressing their jealousy through lighthearted jokes. The wealth he possessed was another determining factor of your marriage to him. You supposed marrying him was worth it for his massive ranch alone. However, the real problems began just mere months after your wedding ceremony. What should have marked a beautiful beginning to your lives together quickly deteriorated into something else. 

The ring on your husband's finger didn’t seem to slow the frenetic pace at which he flirted with women and picked them up, never in the comfort of your own home but under the guise that he was headed into town to take care of business. You often wanted to argue back that all the business that needed doing was here on the ranch, but you did not want to risk your life of comfort. Part of you learned to put up with it only because it meant you could sit around all day, spend your husband's money, and watch loads of sweaty men work around your ranch. In the same vein as your husband's infidelity, his time away from the ranch meant being able to flirt with the ranch hands subtly. 

You were well aware of how attractive you were and were more than well aware that the ranch hands thought the same of you. You’d feel their leering gazes whenever you bent over to pick something up, the whole world suddenly stopping behind you just to stare at your ass. You found enjoyment in the act of undoing the top buttons of your shirt to expose your cleavage before heading out the doorway of your home, looking straight ahead while doing your best strut past the working hands. You would smirk openly as you heard their chatter between each other die down and fall silent, feeling all their eyes transfer to you as you walked past. Once you were several feet away, you’d hear the low whistles of the men, followed by their lewd comments: “She’s smoking hot.” “If I had a wife like her, hell, I’d be home all the time.” “Too bad she’s married to the ranch owner.” 

You knew this was the mindset you had to conquer in Arthur’s mind. In your conquest of the new aforementioned ranch hand, you had to rid him of the idea that what you were doing was wrong; it’d appear more as taboo flirting than actual infidelity. Arthur could also be described as needlessly attractive. He seemed to highlight every aspect that made up exactly what it was that you loved so much about your ranch hands: his sultry low drawl, his big arms with bulging biceps that would flex from any form of strain, his rough hands, callused from all the work he had done in his life, his full beard that he’d occasionally trimmed down to a fine stubble, and his wonderfully welcoming gentle blue eyes that contrasted every other bit of his begin. The sweat on his skin made him appear glossy and slick, and you’d taken a liking to the fantasy of licking his entire body clean of it. The perfect cherry on top.

At times you wished your urges for the man would remain dormant, but the silent cries from between your legs were hummed just loud enough that you were constantly aware of them; like a soundtrack to whatever it was you were trying to do with Arthur. And every time you ventured outside your ranch home, you’d spot Arthur in the distance, splashing his face with water and watching the way the droplets of water raced down his jaw and neck to see which was lucky enough to make it under the collar of his shirt first. Other times you’d see him shoveling dirt or hay, and you’d focus solely on the way his hands and arms worked. Your favorite was being able to watch him heave large sacks over his shoulders, often multiple at once. By the end of the day, the scent of Arthur’s sweat as he stood by you or walked past you was so pungent that it clung to your nostrils and made you dizzy with desire. 

You clung onto the hope that during one of these encounters, you might come across the best scenario possible: Arthur fixing a fence at noon when the sun was highest in the sky, freckles of blown dirt sticking to his sweaty shirtless torso, his dirt-stained denim jeans hanging lowly on his hips; one tug away from freedom. Your husband gone. In that case, you might be able to stumble across his working form and feign concern for his sunburnt skin. Would he mind taking a break? Allowing you to take him into your home for a cold glass of water? You’d been in the sun all day, you were both likely parched.

Your greatest bouts of confidence came during moments when you were able to find yourself alone with Arthur. You knew seducing any of the other ranch hands would be ridiculously easy, but Arthur had a little resistance to him, and you loved a little challenge. You pounced on the opportunity to talk to Arthur when you saw him standing inside the stables, soaked in sweat from head to toe while trying to evade the sun’s harsh rays in the shade provided. You saw him wipe his sweat off on the back of his sleeve, feeling as though it was a blatant misuse of a precious resource. ‘No!’ you wanted to shout ‘Don’t wipe it off! Let me clean it off you!’ 

“Real hot today isn’t it, Mr. Morgan?” You sauntered up behind Arthur, leaning your weight on the door of one of the stables. He pitched his pitchfork against a wall and turned back before smiling politely at you. 

“Certainly is, Miss. Why ain’t you inside, huh? You could get sunburnt.” Arthur warned, which you found incredibly endearing. It could’ve been just a simple show of concern, but you believed it to be far more than that. It sounded more to you like a declaration of love. 

“I just like making my rounds around the ranch, taking nice walks. It is my ranch after all.” You reminded. You found that an admonition of your position of power around here would cement you as someone with far more influence than any of your hands. It proved effective, as Arthur began nodding in understanding. 

“Right, my apologies, Miss.” He said, bowing his head slightly. 

“No need to apologize, say, do you wanna come into the house for a cold beer? Sure seems like you need to cool off.” Not just a beer, a cold beer. You had a way with words. How many hours had Arthur worked in the field, the skin of his back stinging from cruel sunburns while his vision blurred from his own sweat dripping into his eyes, parched beyond any relief the tepid tap water could provide, dreaming of a really cold beer? You shifted your weight onto one hip and allowed a small smirk to crawl onto your face. You began to shed all polite pretenses as you looked Arthur up and down, reveling in the way his body noticeably tensed. You weren’t being too forthcoming, but just enough that if Arthur decided to come onto you, you’d be doing him a great favor by entertaining his advances. 

“I don’t think I should, Miss, I-”

“Nonsense! You live on this ranch, after all, I see no harm in stepping inside my house. Especially since I’m allowing it.”

Arthur looked at you hesitantly, then quickly around him as if he didn’t want anyone to see him talking to you. Arthur wasn’t oblivious to the fact that every single ranch hand found you attractive, as well as himself. He just didn’t want to receive an endless stream of questioning as to why and what he was talking to you about. 

“If you insist.” He said, removing his hat from his head and following you out the stable. 

“I’m more than happy to.” You smiled, blithely patting his shoulders before sliding your hand down his arm. You passed it off with clueless laughter, shivering at the feeling of his eyes on your backside. Arthur fiddled with his fingers as he followed you up the path to your house. The glaring sun made the green grass appear brighter, creating a luminous passage toward salvation. 

The sounds of your footsteps up the wooden porch pulled him out of a trance he didn’t realize he was in. Arthur looked up at you from the bottom of the steps, still hesitant to make his way up. You looked down at him from where you stood, reveling in the faux height difference that made you far taller than he was; you felt half god to his mortal. 

“Come on,” You beckoned. “It’s just my house.” You shrugged and smiled, your lips twitching in an attempt to hold back a smirk. Arthur took one last cautionary glance around before finally making his way up. You opened the door and allowed Arthur to walk in first, stepping inside afterward with a large smile. The sound of the metal clanking as the bolt shut into place felt like a small kick in your loins that spurred you on in your pursuit. 

Arthur stood awkwardly in the center of the living area as he looked around. He became hyper-aware of his limbs, his arms hovering over his torso, unsure what to do next. You walked past him and smiled at him, motioning with your hand for him to follow you. 

You led him to your ornately papered kitchen, making a show of bending over in front of him to retrieve the box of chilled beers below the counter. You set the heavy box down on the table, digging a beer out, and popping the lid off on the corner of the table. Froth rose from the beer bottle, sliding over your hand and soaking the skin. Arthur watched, as if hypnotized, as the foam slid over and dripped onto your floor. He swallowed hard and squinted his eyes, the kitchen window behind you draping you in a soft sheet of sunlight as you eclipsed it; only adding to your godly image. Your movements seemed to play in slow motion as you stretched your arm out and handed Arthur the beer. Every turn or twitch of a limb felt somnambulant, his arm feeling like a sandbag as he lifted it and took the beer from your dainty hand. 

The condensation, combined with Arthur’s nerves, caused the bottle to slip from his hand and crash on the floor. The shattering sound caused Arthur to snap out of his daze, as thought it more some sort of anecdote to the hypnosis he was under. 

“Oh, Miss, I’m so sorry.” Arthur crouched down and began gathering the large pieces of glass in his hand, afraid of the possibility that if he looked up, he might see your disappointed face. Being able to step inside your home to be able to enjoy a cold beer already felt like a blessing. You bent down in front of him, placing your lithe hands on his wrists. He looked up at you, swallowing hard and preparing for any chastising he would receive. But it never came. 

“It’s okay. I’ll clean it up. It’s my fault anyways, I should’ve wiped it down before I handed it to you.” Normally, Arthur would have argued back, but he seemed to fall under your spell again. It was as if against his own will, he let the glass side from his palms onto the ground again and rose. You looked up at him with a smile, still kneeling before him. Arthur felt his cock twitch. 

“Why don’t you go sit down at the table over there? I’ll get you a new beer.” You smiled a bit longer, watching for any signs of refusal before getting back to cleaning up the mess. You waited for the view of Arthur’s boots to disappear from your peripheral before you decided to dispose of the glass in the trash. You turned your back to retrieve another beer, hearing the scrape of a chair against the floor. You took the opportunity to unbutton two extra buttons from your shirt so that it hung open and exposed some cleavage. You expected him to stare at you as you spoke inane details about how the ranch was doing in terms of business, then you could act surprised that his gaze had med your open shirt and possibly get a confession that he was indeed looking at your chest—information you’d pretend to find so overly flattering you’d offer to give him an even better look. 

The moment you turned around to face him, beer and bottle opener in hand, you caught his eyes flickering to your chest before quickly looking away. You would’ve passed it off as sneaky if not for the fact you were actively seeking for him to look. You walked closer, grinning widely and continuing to approach him until you stood closely next to where he sat, perhaps too close for comfort. Your hip bone brushed against his arm, something you pretended not to notice—you also pretended not to notice the way he shifted in his seat, trying his best to keep his gaze on the table. 

You popped the cap off the bottle, handing it to Arthur and ensuring he had a firm grasp on it. Arthur thanked you quietly before taking a sip. For the first time since Arthur entered your home, he felt comfortable and almost content as he sipped the beer. He took a large swig, his nerves washed away by the golden liquid as he allowed himself to slump in his chair. It was almost enough to make him forget that you still stood closely by his side, your hip pressed into his tricep at this point. 

Arthur continued to drink, trying to ignore the satisfied smile on your face that bordered on unnerving. He nearly dropped the bottle again when he felt your hand slide onto his shoulder before giving it a heavy and firm squeeze, full of intent. He nearly convinced himself he was hallucinating, hesitant to look up. Was this all just a mirage he had dreamt up, brought about by the scorching heat? But as your hand slid down to his firm bicep, delivering a gentle squeeze, it was confirmed to him that this was real. 

“Miss… What are you doing?” Despite having downed an entire bottle of beer, Arthur’s throat became instantly dry. He finally willed himself to look up at you, a chill wracking through his body when he made eye contact with your icy eyes. Eyes colder than any drink you could offer him, and it suggested that perhaps, you had something that could quench his thirst better than any drink as well. 

“Why don’t we celebrate a little more?” You swiped your tongue over your bottom lip, maintaining that same innocent smile. But the two of you were beyond the point of ignorance for what this was leading to; all it would take for this to escalate was for someone to say it. 

Your other hand slid around his shoulder, both of your hands coming to knead at his shoulders. You skillfully worked the muscles in his shoulders, making occasional comments about how hardworking he must be in order to be this tense. Meanwhile, Arthur sat in his seat, trying to weigh out in his head whether this was okay or if this was already too far. How much farther would this get? Would it go beyond the point of being able to say he didn’t engage in adultery? How long would your husband be gone for? Would he find out? You could say Arthur came onto you and he’d have no reason not to believe you. 

“Miss, I really don’t think I should be here anymore.” He didn’t turn to face you, occupying himself with playing with the bottle. 

“Why not?” 

Arthur was unsure of how to proceed. There was no way he was reading your signals wrong. You were feeling his chest up at this point, and so far, he’d made no movements to get your hands off of him. He’d be lying if he said part of him didn’t enjoy this. But what if he was reading this wrong? But how could he? It couldn’t have been more in his face. 

“Well, you’re… married…” He finally mustered up. Being reminded of your husband at a time you were supposed to be enjoying yourself nearly drove you to anger. You rolled your eyes and scoffed, confirming something in Arthur’s head. 

“Let’s not be dumb here.” There was a sudden seriousness in your voice that made Arthur nervous. “I’m tired of looking dumb to everyone on the farm while my husband goes out and fucks some birds in town.” You squeezed Arthur’s shoulder and moved around his body to face him now. Perhaps it was your honesty or your assertiveness, but not much else needed to be said. There was a sacred moment of understanding between the two of you that did not need to be verbalized. 

When your husband later found out, you wouldn’t have been able to recount to him the details of the time it took to get from the kitchen table to your shared bed. Time sped up the instant you crashed your lips onto Arthur’s, any tinge of hesitance leaving him as he kissed back hungrily. He gripped either side of your button-up and yanked, causing buttons to fly all over the bedroom floor—buttons you never bothered to pick up. You wore no chemise that day, so Arthur got an instant eyeful of your bare breasts. Arthur worked his shirt off while you slid off your skirt and drawers, leaving you completely naked. Arthur himself was only wearing his jeans at this point. 

You wasted no time in pushing Arthur on his back, the same spot where your husband slept; he had a moment of clarity when his head hit the pillow where he realized just how quickly this was moving. But before he could reach the point in his train of thought where he would begin defusing this sexually charged situation, you were on all fours facing him. You lowered yourself onto your elbows as you began undoing his belt buckle, sliding the leather out the loops of his jeans and discarding it next to the bed. You hastily undid his button and zipper, making Arthur feel like he was being pounced on by a panther in the woods, ready to be mauled by your lust and desire. 

Arthur rested his body weight on his elbows and watched you pull his cock out, looking on in amusement as you gawked at its size and held it next to your face in comparison. His breath caught in his throat when you licked up the side of his cock, reaching the tip and spitting a fat glob of saliva, allowing it to slide down his shaft. The two of you watched it in mesmerization before you began slathering his cock with it, swiping your thumb over his tip and circling your pad on it.

You lowered your head onto his cock, your hair coming down and framing your face while you sucked him off like curtains to a show. Arthur eyed the way your ass lifted in the air, curving into a perfect heart shape that was begging to be slapped. You wasted no time shoving his cock all the way to the back of your throat, swallowing around him as you tried to ease away a gag. You salivated around him, your body’s attempt to aid you. You slid your head back up slowly until breathing became difficult, various strings of saliva connecting you to his tip as you sucked in a breath. The strings broke and dripped down your chin, the sight so filthy and lewd Arthur almost didn’t feel bad about this. 

You licked up the side of his cock before reaching the tip and licking down again. You repeated the same motion while maintaining eye contact, smiling widely as you did so. Arthur was utterly debauched, his limbs feeling too jelly-like to continue to hold himself up. He crossed his arms behind his head, relaxing fully and claiming your husband’s spot like he was the new lion that crawled into the den. You began deepthroating Arthur, bobbing your head up and down as you moaned around him. You had never blown your husband with such vigor, and much recently, you had begun refusing to sleep with him. Probably spurring him on to keep seeking out sex work. But you couldn’t care less about his history of infidelity at this moment. You could only focus on the way Arthur's face contorted and tipped back in pleasure, his lips parting to pant. 

You lifted your head from Arthur, wiping your mouth on the back of your arm and eyeing him. The two of you synchronized as you climbed on top of Arthur, his hands taking hold of your own as he guided you on top of him. Arthur watched you take his glistening cock and line it up with your cunt, and in the blink of an eye, you had sunk down fully onto him. 

Arthur’s eyes went wide as he watched you instantly begin to ride him, not taking a second to adjust to the sudden intrusion. Your moans began loudly, throwing your head back as you bounced yourself on his lap. You supposed this was a bigger moment than this was for Arthur. A sense of control washing over you, feeling more powerful than ever. You imagined your husband’s face if he were to walk in. The horror that would cross his features.

“Oh fuck! This is so much better than my husband…” You gasped. You gripped his shoulders and supported yourself on his, the burning in your legs increasing as you continued to ride him. Arthur eventually gripped your hips, moving you up and down with much greater force. Initially, it felt like you were fucking yourself on Arthur, but now it felt like he was the one fucking you. 

Your bodies move in tandem, heavy moans and pants and groans filling the room. The sheer scandalousness of it all tipped you over as you came all over his cock. You continued to ride Arthur, despite having been satiated yourself, set on having him cum inside you. 

“Finish inside me.” You demanded. His thrusts stuttered, a tinge of bewilderment in his eyes. 

“Are you sure? What if-”

“Just do it, dammit.” You said through grit teeth.

After a few more minutes of thrusting, Arthur emptied himself inside you, your cunt now a spent pool of pleasure. It felt as though a deep itch inside you had finally been scratched, and Arthur began to wonder how long you had been planning something like this or if this happened completely by chance. 

Golden rays began pouring in from your bedroom window, indicating a lot of time had passed. To the two of you, it felt so short. Your body shone with the afterglow of sex, the sweat glistening on your skin. You had never looked so heavenly. Arthur allowed you to be his god for the day, his savior. To you, godhood was just like girlhood, begging to be seen.

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Sugar On My Tounge - Talking Heads

[fuck-customers]

never before have i worked under a supervisor who got mad at me for trying to help with other tasks when i otherwise had nothing the fuck else to do. 👨‍🍳🌌

i’m doing temp work at a catering kitchen with a few other coworkers and my usual chef while our usual location under the same company is closed for reasons. it’s literally my third fucking day here. today they tagged me in to help with “hand-outs” for a buffet service—basically i just had to stand there and wait for a buffet runner to come back and ask for a salad. the salads were already on their shelf, ready to unwrap and pass out. i am straight up just standing there doing fuck all. my usual chef from the kitchen i’m typically at (i’ll call Chef) is helping oversee the buffet service as the on-duty chef, there’s another guy actually managing it and touching base with the organizers running the event (i’ll call Guy), and then there’s this hot line supervisor (i’ll call Bibi) and the two other temps helping her.

Bibi goes off to do god-knows-what, and again, i’m literally just standing there doing fuck all, so i step over to help Chef and the other temps arrange shit for the hot plates on buffet—garnishing pans, etc. we get their shit dressed, put it back in the hot holding boxes, ready to hand out to the runners. i’m keeping general track of where everything is because…i don’t know, i’m fucking paying attention and make sure i can snap into action at a moment’s notice if called to do so? mostly i’m just transferring pans back and forth for dressing and finding the odd places things have been stowed so it’s not that hard for me to follow when i’m the one being told to put shit back. Chef and Guy walk off to do something, i think to do with the organizers or the buffet attendants, making sure we have all our garnishes to match spec, etc.

Bibi comes back losing her mind because apparently there’s *another* event that got their hot entrees mixed up with ours? so i, trying to be helpful, pipe up to mention which hotbox the just-dressed pans were put into, because like. we don’t fucking want those being taken. and instead of something simple like “i’ve got this handled, thank you” and going back to her shit, she drops everything she’s fucking doing and starts giving me this, like, straight up almost two minute condescending LECTURE. talking to me like i’m fresh out of kindergarten and never stepped foot in a kitchen before instead of a fucking 30-year-old man who’s been in this industry for the better part of a decade, about how *she* can handle *her* hot side and *i* can handle *my* cold side and a bunch of circular bullshit reiterating on that point and by her tone and body language, not so subtly disparaging my intelligence as she did so. straight up i would have felt more highly respected if she just called me a slur to my face.

i’m staring at her like she’s sprouted a second head, but again, it’s my third day here and she has seniority, so i bite my tongue. like, what the fuck? you’ve got a guy here who’s willing to step up and do something other than stand there with one thumb up my ass and the other on my phone to fight the urge to take a nap for the goddamn hour and a half until we even open service. and you’re going to stand there and lecture me for it? like i’m a child?? with your whole chest??? you are 40 years old and acting like this. wow. i appreciate the refusal to adhere to “time to lean, time to clean” mentalities but jesus fucking christ. it’s like she was perfectly genetically engineered to irritate me specifically and decided to speedrun pissing me off.

anyway, Bibi fucks off with the hotbox holding the vast majority of our backups for the beef entree. (we would later run out and have to call her to fucking bring some back because all we had otherwise was chicken and salads.) brief interlude with the return of Guy and him touching base with the temps. we’re standing around on our phones and chatting bc there’s nothing to do; he asks where the other hotbox went, and i actually AM allowed to explain that Bibi came and took it for the other buffet, but we’ve got X number in this other one, because Guy is actually halfway understanding of how operating a fucking kitchen as a team works, i guess. they check and confirm. rinse and repeat with Chef, also a halfway reasonable person to work with. again, they walk off to do whatever.

Bibi returns. she’s looking for a garnish. i start to point it out. this time she just cuts me off to dive into *another* lecture. i’m fed up at this point so i just interject “i’m communicating where i put it because i’m the one who was told to put it away” and this time it turns into an almost three minute lecture about the same bullshit of her handling her shit and me handling mine. i am physically struggling to keep my cool at this point and biting my tongue to keep from getting into an argument with her. i have to step back and put the speed rack with my salads on it between the two of us so i don’t have to fucking look at her.

Bibi walks away as Chef comes back. he’s worked with me a year he knows the Look i get when someone’s crossed a line with me and it’s taking everything in me not to metaphorically spontaneously polymorph into a silverback gorilla. and he comes back over to the buffet arrangement.

Chef: “So, what do you think of Bibi?”

Me, making unblinking eye contact: 🫠 (the longest, slowest, deepest inhale i have ever taken in his presence)

Chef: “Yeah, that’s why she doesn’t work for me anymore.”

turns out he has repeatedly had to get HR involved because of her behavior/attitude, resulting in her getting in the hot seat almost every time they have to work together when she just needs to learn when to stop fucking talking to people like that, and Guy agreed that she’s constantly out of line damn near every fucking time they’ve had to work with her, and they’re one of the location’s powerhouse workers. the fact that she still has a job there at all is so far fucking beyond me.

again, it was my THIRD DAY at this location, my first time working buffet service there, my first time working with her, and i barely got through a full sentence trying to be helpful and expedite things before she decides to take it upon herself to waste her own time by trying to break years of “doing more than your job description instead of simply doing nothing when you have no active tasks” conditioning in the most condescending way i could have possibly conceived of.

i’m so fucking insulted i’m seriously considering telling Chef not to volunteer me for any more temp shifts over there until i’m not at risk of having to work with her, because if she doesn’t learn to talk to me like i’m a fellow fucking human being, i will end up losing my temper, and i will certainly be asked not to come back regardless. i’ll just have less choice in the matter.

i might have to figure something out for seasonal work anyway while things are getting squared back away at my usual site, but i’d rather take my chances with a second job than risk having to deal with this fucking bullshit, and i don’t think i’ve made the best first impression at this other site anyway.

Posted by admin Rodney

[autisticstarscream]

read the entire spoiler thread for star and lord. i have opinions.

im so genuinely confused on how the erins have genuinely degraded so bad in writing. 90% of riverclan being excused for their awful behavior bc "woah! splashtail was threatening kits!!!" GUYS. THERE IS ONE OF HIM.

Berryheart makes me so genuinely mad. her and curlfeather being reflections of one another but treated so differently is wild. what do you mean berryheart saved sunbeam before she killed so that gives her a "noble death" thus she could possibly go to starclan, meanwhile curlfeather did literally the EXACT SAME THING and was initially banished to dark forest before she gets her little limbo world.

the audacity to have characters respect berryheart after her blantant crimes and say she really was a good person only for the narrative to turn around and condemn curlfeather for the EXACT SAME ACTIONS is annoying. specifically also because genuinely? despite the execution curlfeather was right. mistystar sucked as leader in the end and her son being deputy meant we'd get a boring ass riverclan considering reedwhisker literally has no personality.

like. im fine with frostpaw not being leader and her name. im happy the leader is icewing bc i KNEW it was gonna be her. but god i really wish they would just stop writing these books. the keep bringing in so much good potential with plots and then immediately fuck it up in the first two books thus making the plot stagger through the remaining 4. i know people will just say "just stop reading" but my autism will not let me. i need to know whats happening in canon warriors but i just keep getting disappointed.

i have no hope for the next arc. considering squirrelstar openly wanting no more clan transfers (meaning. no more new bloodlines, considering the one (sunbeam) is immediately pairing up with firestars bloodline, meaning her addition is now useless in the way of adding new genetics to thunderclan), it makes me scared for what other fucked up pairings are gonna happen in thunderclans future.

god im just. so pissed. its so bad. nightheart doesnt even hate being compared to firestar anymore. the only arc in this that felt worthwhile is frostdawns and honestly. i think SHE shouldve been the one to care more for her mother after death rather than sunbeam and berryheart. it wouldve been more interesting to have a medicine cat be critical of starclan and have an active connection to a dark forest cat. but the erins hate making starclan look bad and are so obsessed with making the themes so devout towards starclan that it hurts.

[mutantceri]

Research Note 10 - Transition

I'm going through the stages of grief over my transition to this project. Into a research clinic! For people!... Well... Kinda.

I get it; they need someone who understands the mechanics of radiation and particle operations. But I'm not exactly qualified for this when my former applied knowledge was for systems QA. I know how to make bomb go boom, and all the little hardware and gizmos that put it all together so it go boom. And how to verify with x-rays and proton bombardment that it all works to go boom.

How, the hell, does that apply to this mess?

Well, per the transfer,

"(Deadname) is a perfect candidate for transfer. They have done well with the mechanical operations of [REDACTED] engineering. (Yes, on things that make LOTS of NEUTRONS quickly move in a VERY exaggerated way.)

They work extremely well with robotics and diagnostic engineers. (I guess this transfers to medical stuff, but like, sure whatever)

Additionally, they have a background of the study of radiation degradation. (I do not, I HAD to take some classes to work on these damn things)

We highly recommend their leadership ability and believe them to be the best candidate to manage the mechanical side of this project. (LOL WHAT?!)

We wish them well as they transition from the weapons systems division to the Genetic Nuclear Development division of EG&S."

HOW am I going to help some geneticists and molecular biologists? I'm not a Doctor of nuclear engineering! I'm some technician who became a department lead by working my ass off!

Like, I absolutely understand the mechanics of this, but to say I can lead the build team? Be the manager of a team of properly educated physicists, metallurgists, and robotics engineers?!

... Well, I always have wanted a challenge... And this "TheraSMD 335" thing is... pretty cool. I thought it was for repairing damage from like, radiological incidents. No, apparently, it's designed to work in tandem with gene therapy.

For species transition.

...

I thought that was all magic and alchemy. Hell, I thought it was a dream when I saw someone who was well transitioned. Just a Kobold walking past me. No big deal. Like... what?!

...

It would be nice to help people (beings, i guess?) instead of working on things that destroy them... Much better for my brain.

...

... I guess, if this goes well, it's not such a bad thing that I'm able to contribute. When I transitioned gender, I wanted to be able to do more to help the cause.

Maybe, this time I can?

...

I guess... this is a good transition. Probably the best for me.

-Ceri

[mamashenanigans]

Okay. I’ve had time to process the spoilers for chapter 407: Paranormal Orphan.

Here are my thoughts:

-WTF?! They are twins?! What is it with Japanese mangaka and having unhinged twin relationships?! I’m looking at you, Nightow.

-AFO was born with his Quirk activated. Stealing nutrients from his mother then desperately feeding off of her corpse. Stole her Quirk too and seems to have some sentimental value in it as he still uses it often to this day.

-Low-key, I think there’s a hint here that the genetic change in babies and pre-pubescent kids started as some sort of STD that evolved considering their mom was a prostitute and “contracted” an illness. That’s just me, though.

-The first person he ever had was Yoichi and he held his hand right after birth. Also: JFC THAT’S A BIG BOY

-AFO is a victim of his Quirk like the other villains(Toga, Touya, Tenko). He was born wanting to possess things. I don’t like the whole “he was born evil” narrative. Yeah, he looks like a crazy ass Omen baby, but it makes sense he’d think the way he does.

-AFO is also an unreliable narrator here as this is all from his POV

-He says something to the effect of (we’ll know more once we get the scanlations) how, even though Yoichi can’t give him anything like he wants from everyone else, he’s still “his”.

-So, did he just get up and start walking and taking care of his brother out of sheer will when he was still a baby or did someone pick them up and raise them to the point when AFO wanted something from them and killed them when he didn’t get it?

-Yoichi still believes there is some good in his brother because he held his hand as a baby. 😭 Poor kid

-Poor wittle Yoichi getting kicked because he threw something at AFO. For how they’ve had to live, it makes sense AFO would react that way…in a manner of speaking.

-Yoichi learning to read from comics he finds in rubble/a dump. AFO takes notice and sits next to him. He then likes the part where the author says “One for All, All for One.” He should have had a name prior that he must have given himself as Yoichi has one. Though it would make sense that AFO named Yoichi himself as “first gift” since he was the first thing he ever had.

-AFO being jealous of the Glowing Baby is pretty spot on. All of this seems to hint that AFO and Yoichi were the first to have powers considering how AFO talks about the Glowing Baby and the 50 kids born in India.

-The last page is quite a cliffhanger and it sucks we have to wait 2 weeks for the next part(there’s no way this isn’t a two parter).

-How AFO is thinking about Yoichi leaving him is intensely possessive and reminds me of how Vader choked Padme when he thought she was betraying/leaving him. This also ties into how AFO didn’t know he had killed Yoichi.

-My guess is that AFO lashed out and sliced off Yoichi’s hand in a possessive rage. He was so startled by his own action that it gave the 3rd user time to grab Kudo and Yoichi then speed out of there.

-Is it just me or does anyone else hope AFO kept Yoichi’s hand? Parallel to Tomura having all of his family’s hands. I sure hope he did because I need even more twisted twin obsession.

-It’s most likely Yoichi lived long enough after this(and maybe with his blood) transferred OFA to Kudo. He then died from his blood loss and that’s why AFO didn’t know he had killed him.

-AFO crying over Yoichi’s death maybe the first and only time he’s ever cried. Yoichi did mean something to him, maybe even more than a “thing”, but he didn’t realize it until that one moment. He blames Kudo for his death because of the mental gymnastics he has to go through to convince himself that there’s no way he would have hurt the only person he’s ever actually loved—possessive as it may be. If Kudo hadn’t have taken him from the vault, he wouldn’t have reacted and cut off Yoichi’s hand, and therefore, Yoichi would still be alive.

-If he takes OFA with Yoichi’s soul in it, then Yoichi will be his again and “I totally didn’t kill him. See! He’s still alive!”

-The internet’s hot-takes that AFO is homophobic because he went full possessive Vader over Yoichi is weird. I said it.

-A part of me wants there to be a cliffhanger where we think Bakugo may have defeated AFO. We then get the intense fight between Tomura and Deku. Deku is about to win, however that’s going to happen, but then AFO shows up around the age he was when he kicked Yoichi, and he’s holding Bakugo as a threat, demanding Deku give him his brother back. But that’s just me. Again.

Anyway, I can admit when I’m wrong about a villain’s backstory. It wouldn’t be the first time and I honestly should have expected something like this considering Horikoshi going full on horror during this Final War arc. However, I don’t think AFO being born with his Quirk activated and “wanting to take” necessarily makes him “born evil.” The twins still had to survive on the streets as orphans, anti-meta people believing AFO is a diseased heathen and never wanting to help either of them. So, he took on exactly what they thought of him. It’s actually quite sad when you stop to think about it.

I’m going to be frothing at the mouth for the next two weeks to see how this backstory ends. Since it started with AFO going nuts and thinking Bakugo is Kudo, I’m assuming we’ll get further context of AFO’s thoughts when he’s crying.

[thelreads]

Had thought the bee quirk transfer was self explanatory. The bee took a sample and Tamao injected it into herself. That was her whole part of the factory, inject drugs and take samples. No telling how long it would last on its own but given she got the queen removed I would guess she doesn't have it anymore.

I didn't meant to imply that Tamao was the one that could do that, but since she was the bee's host I used her name instead.

Also

You mean that we don't need AfO or even extensive genetic engineering to pass quirks around, we can simply take a blood sample of someone and inject into yourself and then you can use their quirk for a while?

Also, her part in the factory was distribution of Trigger and collecting blood samples to see how the people's bodies reacted to the drugs, quirk transfer was never her thing, that was always what the ones in the factory were doing on their own, and as we can see that was the doctor and AfO, so, how did she even knew that was possible with a simple sample of blood?

I kept assuming that trigger would be revealed to be a sort of quirk glue that would allow the creation of the Nomus by facilitating their bodies to absorb the new powers while simultaneously boosting them, but that never came to happen

Also by then the nomu program already had Kurogiri, Hood, and whatever the fuck McBee is, so it's not like trigger is essential to make it work.

So, returning to my initial comment, the quirk transfer with a simple blood sample was never explained nor brought up again, and can be chalked down as an ass pull to add to the tension of the scene. I hope someone is keeping a tally mark of how many of those we had so far.

[likeadog]

@ultramanyaoi

so like theres this character her name is eri shes the worlds teensiest little thang and her quirk is rewind. it can rewind people physically once shes built up enough energy and this is noted by the horn on her head. she doesnt have much control of it because shes six and originally she was being used for her quirk by overhaul, who developed what he called "quirk erasing bullets" that had the essence of the quirk in them so if u got shot w one . boom. u may get genetically rewound into no longer having a quirk. anyways after overhaul gets his ass beat the league of villains gets their hands on the remaining bullet during this big final war things are like, going worse for afo than originally planned like quirkless all might is eating him upppppp so afos like fuck it i may be old and have half my head missing now but you know what? im 200 years old ill just put myself back in my prime and then take over shigarakis body because fuck em thats why. bc he knows he'll pop out of existence eventually if he doesnt do some weird afo mind transfer shit idrk how that part works but he shoots himself and starts going sicko mode but everyone realizes after a while that the more hits he takes the more quirk he has to use so the faster the rewinding gets. shit gets crazy bkg dies edgeshot goes into his heart to save him etc etc afo is an adult and then a teen and we get his backstory or whatever w his gay ass brother. but afo is like, so supremely evil that even when he hits like the toddler stage he is just full of malice and ig his mind didnt rewind also. bkg gets revived so hes like FUCK ITTTTTT IM THROWING HANDS WITH AN ELEMENTARY SCHOOLER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and starts blasting

so bakugou and afo have their little tussle and whatnot and bakugou gets him to like, the newborn stage and hes like , on the ground exhausted bc of how much the fight took out of him and hes like "fuck it i could just leave him alone and he'll disappear eventually" but this is bakugou so hes like "nah im gonna make sure this shit is COMPLETED " and he blasts that fucking fetus into a little stain as afo finishes rewinding out of existence

[conkreetmonkey]

what if there was a fourth clone, and this one was evil and a bit homophobic, just a bit tho

Depending on whether he was mildly evil and homophobic in a hot or annoying way, I can see it going a few different ways. The fact that it's possible for these clones to have unique personalities raises a lot of questions, especially since the last 2 seemed to be pretty much the same to the original (me). tbh I wouldn't be completely opposed to "experimenting" with a clone of myself if we were different people on the inside, but it really, really depends on the context and I'd say no in most circumstances because it feels reeeally close to identical twin incest. His homophobia is interesting because, in his particular case due to being a clone of me, it probably implies self-hatred (I'm loving how transphobia was never mentioned here despite 2 of the 3 Conkies transitioning, btw), so we'd try to be supportive and maybe the lone still-male Conky could kiss him. Maybe. I'm conflicted on the morality there and leaning towards "ew." It's just so taboo.

If he's too annoying, we could always just either imprison him, or if shit gets really bad kill him and use him as a bin of spare parts. Like, he'd still be genetically identical to us, so we could like stick him in the freezer and harvest his body parts for ourselves whenever we felt like it lol. Free kidneys, skin grafts, teeth... Actually, I wonder if you could steal brain matter from his head and stick it in one of ours to make them smarter... probably would just make them evil and homophobic though, knowing sci-fi tropes.

One thing I'm CERTAIN I would try to do if I was in possession of a corpse identical to my own, and this is fucking disgusting but bear with me, is do a fat transfer between him and one of us to make our ass/boobs bigger lmao. Just as an experiment. Like we have backup bodies now, what's a little cosmetic malpractice among clones?

If scrapping him for plug-and-play body parts isn't an option, we could always just sell the valuable parts on the black market, turn the meat into hamburger, and keep either the skeleton or the head as a decorative trophy, both if possible. Imagine having your own head mounted over the mantle lmfao.

This is all, however, assuming we kill him, which I don't think would happen if he was only a LITTLE evil and homophobic. People can change. It really depends on how evil. I'd only kill him as a last resort. We could totally do it, though, we're his equals in every way and it's a 3 v 1.

[atrocitahs]

PSA: This is not scientifically accurate by ANY means, I'm pulling stuff out of my ass.

The Beginning.

When Octavius was crafting the artificial fetus, she took DNA from an anonymous, consenting volunteer (male) and injected into the fetus. It was now mixed with her own and the volunteer's material. Unbeknownst to Olivia, the male volunteer happened to possess a dormant X gene down to the offspring. It was far too hidden to be detected. The gene would not be visible until Ramsey was older, five or so. Ben was astute, and knew that a child created in a lab like one of Alchemax's would turn out to be... Unique, as he often put it to her. So he kept an eye on his kid, waiting for any powers that may manifest.

When the spider was brought home on accident, it bit Ramsey. But this spider wasn't radioactive, nor genetically enhanced. The only reason the power developed was because that spider awoke the X gene in their body, thus setting off the mutation process.

Edmund Elliott.

How is he involved now? As stated previously, he enjoys collecting rare species of animals and experimenting with their DNA. He only heard of Ramsey post Ben's death. They were twenty, around a year and a half after the Alchemax explosion. Elliott dug into Ben's file and discovered that he had a child, and that said child's DNA was logged into the databanks. So he erased Ramsey's existence from Alchemax and transferred it to his own private data cache, where he would devote his free time studying this lab grown mutant. It didn't take him long to connect the dots between the spider person flying around New York and the missing child of the renowned geneticist. So he took his chance, worming his way into Ramsey's life and manipulating them into willingly giving him their genetic code for 'study', as he claims.

Ramsey figured out what he was doing eventually, and severed the connection. But it was too late. He already knew his secret identity, and could use it to blackmail her. So it's all a balancing act, keeping Elliott satisfied by continuing to give him what he wanted, and maintaining the charade of being the city's only Spiderman.

[nataliebenson13]

Swiftie Embabies

Soooo I had the egg retrieval - Let me tell you about that day Egg Retrieval

It was an early morning. We had to be at the clinic at 7:30 AM and since traffic in Nashville is terrible we had to leave around 6:00 AM. Since I was busy working the night before, I missed the cutoff to eat so I was starving. We get there and the wait was super short. Once in the back room, I changed into my gown. Then the nurse came in and went over basic instructions. I had to use the bathroom and by the time I made it back to my bed it was an influx of people coming into the room. The doctor came in first to meet me and let me know how the procedure was going to go. The embryologist came in next to confirm what they were going to be doing with the eggs. Lastly, the nurse came in to start my IV and get my feel good meds going. I asked if I could keep my Speak Now Taylor's Version friendship bracelet and she said yes :) Everything after that was a blur. I know I said goodbye to my husband, and then I was singing Taylor Swift. In what seemed like the quickest second of my life, I was waking up. CORRECTION** I was waking up telling my husband " I love you and I love Taylor Swift" The doctor came in and told me everything went good and they got 33 eggs. Apparently I told her how much I loved Taylor Swift too so in being a good Swiftie of course I had to give her a friendship bracelet. The nurse came in and gave me fentanyl for the pain. After she gave it to me, I got scared. Fentanyl is the scary stuff people die from, but she told me not to worry that it was a very small amount. I hadn't felt the pain yet, so It must have been working. The next step for me to leave was I had to pee before they would let me go. I couldn't go and I kept laughing. They even put some peppermint oil in the toilet because they said that helped. Something helped me and I remember laughing and telling the nurse, and her saying she never heard that before. I still don't know what it was- and think I should be embarrassed. I got dressed and left friendship bracelets on the bed for all the nurses. The drive home was ok and once I got home I went straight to the couch and heating pad. The pain was starting to come on and it hurt!! Every time I got up, I felt like *IT* was going to fall out. Don't ask me what *IT* was but it felt like it was just going to drop out!!! The next pain point, was a pain in the ass - literally. Butthole contractions. That's what it was. I would be perfectly fine, and then suddenly out of nowhere, they would come and they would be so sudden, so sharp, and so painful. It made me cry. That was a fun night. I even slept on the couch. The next morning I woke up with news of my embryos.

33 eggs retrieved

26 mature

20 fertilized

Then came the dreaded 6 day wait for an update. By the end of night 2 post retrieval, I was up and cooking dinner. The house would starve if I didn't. The pain wasn't that bad. The headaches that came the next few days were terrible. The hormones leveling out.

Day 6 Post Retrieval Update

33 eggs retrieved

26 mature

20 fertilized

9 EMBRYOS MADE IT TO BLAST AND WERE FROZEN

We have 9 embabies. At first I cried, scared and worried about the decline from 20 to 9. But after some time - I'm happy with 9. The worst part now is the 2 week + wait to find out how many of the 9 are genetically normal (and girls). I'm holding out hope that of those 9 there will be at least 7 healthy. I can't wait to transfer! I'm trying to look at the time that I have to wait, as time to get all the things done that I won't be able to do once I'm pregnant :) AND I need this transfer to happen timed perfectly so I can still go to the Eras tour in October next year! Once again, thank you @taylorswift for all the joy you bring me and others!!!

[optimizerr]

Oooooh, I like the way you think! I’ve got thoughts about both routes actually, and they both bring up some interesting questions related to actual Naruto canon:

Route 1 ->

Jon being knocked out by a non-fatal blow works here, but also? Imagine Jon being sent out of the village while the massacre takes place. This both 1) gives Itachi plausible deniability beyond a mystery, and 2) enables Danzo to take Jon out later if needed, under the guise of Itachi returning to finish the job!

This also creates a paper trail, because SOMEONE has to sign off on whatever mission Jon takes outside of the village, and that someone is most likely Danzo! As a village elder, he probably has that power! Meanwhile Elias is puppeteering behind the scenes and collecting Uchiha corpses and eyes for research and Danzo transplant purposes (surely Danzo isn’t able to transplant all of those eyes onto himself alone, surely he needs a little quid pro quo from the guy whose whole THING is eyes!)

Bonus points here if that research leads to some cutting-edge research like surveillance cameras; they take apart Uchiha eyes because they’re seemingly somewhat resistant to decay, and they test the boundaries of what qualifies as an ‘eye’ and what qualifies as ‘a pile of eye components.’ Can they set up some half-organic half-machine surveillance system throughout the village, all routing directly back to Elias and Danzo’s hidden sketchy-ass police force shenanigans? Who knows!

Route 2 ->

My immediate inclination with Jon dying here is to tie it in with both TMA’s coma arc and Orochimaru’s genetic work with bodies and transplanting consciousnesses! So without Danzo’s meddling, maybe Elias has to sneak into the morgue and steal Jon’s eyes so he can somehow put Humpty Dumpty back together again. But if Jon’s body is dead, how can he revive his Archivist? Simple, he just needs a body to transplant the eyes into!

Throw in a quick favor from Orochimaru, and Jon gets a new (somewhat similar to his old one) body, PLUS he gets all of the horrible trauma that goes along with dying, having your STILL CONSCIOUS eyes ripped out of your corpse, and having your mind suddenly implanted into a body that Isn’t Quite Right. not sure if any particular fear fits in here, but definitely the End for the period where his body is dead and perhaps the Stranger for him existing in a body that isn’t right for him.

(This would also solve the issue of there being an Uchiha survivor aside from Sasuke- this new identity that Jon must assume isn’t an Uchiha, it’s probably just some no-name guy kidnapped from a different village and killed because he has some passing resemblance to Jon’s original body and Elias wants the transfer to be somewhat smooth for his precious Archivist)

Anyways cue Jon (under the identity of a total stranger, of course, and trying to pretend that he doesn’t know any of his friends because this could end very badly if his secret gets out) ‘meeting’ Daisy and her being SUPER suspicious of him, and trying to subtly look after Sasuke (who is weirded out by this rando who keeps trying to make sure he’s eating right and drinking enough water)

TMA naruto au time buckle up,

Jon should get to be a half Uchiha bastard who has an infamously hard time controlling his sharingan.

His mangekyo (which he gets very very young when he accidentally leads a bully to their death at the hands of a nukenin with a love of spiders) basically acts as his beholding abilities and can allow him to compel people to sit still and answer anything he asks of them, which gets really messy when you consider a) shinobi society is built on secrets, and b) he has a really hard time turning it off

His visions absoloutley fucked but whatever bloodline his father was from seems to have caused the deterioration of his eyes to stop where it is— and is also the cause of why he has extra difficulty w it's flip switch

Anyways, Inuzuka Daisy or Hatake Daisy, I can't decide. Either way shes wolf coded as fuck and also in a similar boat of being absoloutley shit at controlling her bloodline. She and Jon are so problem child coded, and I think part of the reason she hates him as kids is bc she sees a lot of herself in him but like, at her worst. All of her issues but he just lays down and takes it when she fights tooth and nail against anyone who so much looks at her wrong. They are opposite ends of the spectrum and she's hyper aware of it

I think that when they're older they should get to go on a mission together and basically the whole coffin thing happens but with like an enemy nin w an earth chakra type.

Mmm alternatively tho, sprinkle in hints of the dreaded fears and play w the beasts and yokai of naruto canon, pull some spooky shit.

They get in over their heads, coffin happens, Jon goes back for her then we end with them both just kind of looking at eachother like "there are things in this world we can not comprehend."

Mmm, naruto version of the fears,,, that could be fun. Incorporate the bijuu maybe, idk

Anyways, Daisy hates Jon, coffin time happens and Jon escapes but then goes back for her (if she's a Hatake, this could also play interestingly w parallels to Kakashi) and they come out of the whole thing having Seen Thing(tm) and are irriversably changed and also now very much edging into co-dependant besties territory

Can u tell I'm a big fan of the Daisy and Jon besties agenda bc I so am

Moving on to the others ->

I want to say civilian Martin? I don't have much for him tbh, it'd be cool if he was like distantly related to Haku tho. Give him the cool ice mirror bloodline limit or whatever bc smthn smthn the lonely.

Mmm ok acrually hear me out: civilian Martin who's trying very hard to avoid shinobi things. He's actually a defected Kiri nin who forged a new identity for himself and fled to Konoha to start a new life after the bloodline hunts back in Kiri killed his whole family (except for Haku, but he doesn't know he's still alive) He's trying very hard to fly under the radar, but I doubt he'll succeed for long

I want him to look like all those fun lonely avatar fan arts of him w the sharp teeth, white streaked hair, dulled looking skin and kinda fishy vibes overall actually, but like he uses a seal to keep a permanant henge on him to look normal bc hes very visibly Kiri otherwise

Tim is giving me Yamanaka vibes for some reason. I like that also bc then we could possibly get him and Jon working together in T&I, which like yay parallel to how they used to work together before the archives

Sasha is giving me civilian born shinobi vibes, I think she should get to work in the hokage tower. Paper pusher with big dreams of moving up the latter and really being someone one day. She has her eyes dead set on a position in the Hokage's office

Basira is ,,, somewhere. You really can't have Daisy without her that's just illegal but I'm not too sure where to put her. Civilian born Basira kinda suits her but I'm ngl I'm kinda eyeing Nara Basira. Wait no fuck ok, Nara Basira and she was on a 3 man unit with Tim at one point, now they just need a Akimichi to complete the narashikacho trifecta there

She totally works in T&I now, or maybe with the Uchiha police force? It's like 90% Uchiha but I'm pretty sure some other clans are spotted here in there among them, and if they're not, I mean, I don't actually give a shit so .

I don't know if this is one of those aus where canon is still there but we're just adding tma characters into the mix or if it's just vague naruto setting but tma characters are our focus / replacing the main cast. But I think it's the first. If it was the second tho I'd say Elias as Danzo in a heartbeat

But since it's the first, Nara Elias who got a mysterious eye transplant years ago that seemed to have changed his personality entirley (were totally keeping the body hopping shit, rip the real Nara Elias who's been dead for years)

He's a slimy politician who works closely with Danzo

Ok so main narrative:

I'm thinking the coffin thing happens with Daisy and Jon, and now they're kind of eyes open to the existence of whatever version of the fears exist in this world. Jon is Jon and can't let sleeping dogs lie, and Daisy is Daisy and does her twitchy "there's something dangerous out there I can't control/don't know about" thing so she's really not stopping him, but she is helping him be more smart about it. Sometimes. They're both kind of lose canons tbh holy shit this is gonna be a disaster

So Jon gets kind of obsessed w whatever the FUCK that was, and Elias smells blood in the water and approaches

Idk what's going on with Elias but he's still body hopping bitch boy Jonah here. He's very involved in the fears, and he's had his eyes on Jon for a while. You see, the way that avatars manifest in Naruto world is that sometimes they'll often show their influence through bloodlines— Nara the dark, Yamanaka the beholding, Inuzuka the hunt, it's all there if you look for it.

Those in 'the know' believe that all bloodline limits came from the fears— sometimes their influence shows more than others. And very very rarley, that influence becomes a a bit more... potent, than in others.

Elias believes that Jon is one such instance of this, his strange mangekyo being so painfully and terrifyingly beholding coded, far more than his clansmen who's own mangekyo tend to branch off lightly into territories of different fears.

Jon (and Daisy, but Elias has a clear favorite here) running into such a strong instance of the buried, which is rare on its own, has only made Elias even more interested, taking it as some sort of sign that there really is something especially odd about Jon's unusually strong link to the fears.

Anyways, Elias sponsoring Jon's investigation into the fears, their links to the bijuu, how they interact with chakra and if they might truly be the source of modern bloodline limits.

Konoha secret supernatural task force (not to be confused with ROOT or ANBU) meant to monitor the fears influence in Konoha,,,

(God, of course Elias couldn't help but make his own fucking secret service in opposition to ROOT. He couldn't let Danzo upstage him)

Just like how ANBU has their shoulder seal and ROOT the tongue seal, I'm thinking their seal is a stylized eye on the back of their neck, which ofc Elias is always watching through, rip

Oh fuck, actually give me seal master Elias and his special spy seals he can watch and listen through. It's not a power thing it's just a specialization thing— he has his own eye tattoo that allows him to directly see through all his seals at any time.

Anyways we're calling this organization ARCHIVE bc I am a simple gal. Don't ask what it's supposed to stand for in verse, idk

Idk who else should be in it, or if it should be like ground up and Daisy and Jon are the first. Wait what the fuck am I saying, Gertrude and Gerry obviously. Michael Shelly too, can't forget him

Toss in Mike Crew and Jude Perry also just bc I like them. Maybe Nikola and an Aburame Jane Prentiss? But also idk if I'd want to put them in the position where they're technically working under Elias, I feel like that just doesn't fit. Better to leave them out in the wold to run into instead for conflict. Except Mike Crew, who is my favorite little guy and who should get to be here on loan from Elias' friend and Daimyo's court shinobi, Simon Fairchild

Honestly be funny if Kakashi was in it at one point just bc then he'd have been in all 3 konoha secret services and honestly? Hilarious. Someone give that guy a fucking break oh my god

Obviously Tim, Sasha, Martin and Basira all eventually join in, tho idk how. Maybe Jon is actually asked who would be a good choice for it? Jon says Tim and Daisy says Basira, then they both kinda eye Sasha who's been very fucking vocal ab needing just a chance to get her claws into the hooks of the Konoha power ladder and reccomend her too

Martin is the tricky one, I'm thinking Elias somehow finds out ab his Kiri background and has always wanted to poke more at the lonley's very visible connection to many kiri bloodlines— but Martin's in particular. So he kinda blackmails him into it, but framed in a more friendly "I'll make sure you don't have to hide anymore, I can secure your place in Konoha even with your ancestry :)"

Also maybe he was impressed by Martin's disguise seals, that'd be neat. Seal master Martin but he's Martin so he's like "Ah, I'm really not that good at it :("

(Jon is infuriated by his seemingly natural talent then even more infuriated when it becomes clear he's actual shit at most other shinobi things)

Ok so peddle it back to Mr Jonah eye fuckery Magnus here -> he was once like Jon. A man born into a clan w a link to the beholding, with a light eye themed bloodline limit. But he was born with a stronger tie to their patron than the others, strong enough to recognize they had a patron at all. And by feeding into it (don't ask me how I have no clue) he was able to strengthen that tie, gaining more power, and the ability to body hop through eyes

And he looks at Jon and wonders if he can replicate that in him. Groom him into something closer to their god, then feed him to the beholding to further his own power, which seems to have stagnated in growth.

I think also there's just a good amount of spite for ROOT and hunger for political power that he might get from ARCHIVE, and Jon is a clear fit for it, so like. Add him to the pile !!

I have a couple more vague thoughts for this -> the archive tunnels correlating to ROOT tunnels, the real Elias being childhood friends w Danzo and Hiruzen before Magnus took his body, Madara off in his cave somewhere being influenced by a Zetsu who serves the fears instead of Kaguya, etc.

But I'll leave it here for now, thank u for ur time

[harrelltut]

卍 I Magically ENGINEER [ME = U.S. Michael Harrell = TUT = JAH] My HIDDEN Underground States [U.S.] of Egyptian ATLANTIS [SEA] on My HIGHLY AUTOMATED [HA = HARRELL] 6G QUANTUM Hi:teKEMETICompu_TAH [PTAH] in 2020 as iTUT® Type My HIGHLY ADVANCED [HA = HARRELL] 6G QUANTUM BIOINFORMATICS of Government Genetic Coding INTEL that Authenticate [CIA] My HIGHLY SOULFUL Egyptian American [SEA] Ancestry from Lost America [L.A. = NEW Atlantis] 卍

[a-dorin]

crush

pairing: college au! maul x female!reader

word count: 2.411k

warnings: smutttttt, teasing, cursing, mentions of death threats, endless teasing, some filthy talk, nsfw, pet names

a/n: hi so this is my first time writing over 1k in months. please be gentle with me, as i'm really proud of this & i can never get enough of college aus. feedback is very much appreciated. request was anon, but i hope you enjoy <3

prompt: "Hi yes if this managed to make it in time for request, can I please request a Maul x Fem reader smut,,, like anything I’m a desperate hoe ahdhdbsbsbzb"

“so,” there’s the crisp crinkle of a page turning, “why’d you choose university of coruscant?”

“the atmosphere.”

“come on,” he scoffs, “are you a tour guide now? what major are you anyways? isn’t it something really nerdy? something along the lines of biochemistry? a minor in genetics or some bullshit like that?”

“i think you’re thinking of some other girl you’ve fucked because that is nowhere along the lines of what i’m studying. you weren’t even in the right college. some partner you are.”

sitting right across from you, was the star recruit of the university of coruscant. a lacrosse player who transferred from mustafar central. he was the reason why the team was expected to qualify for nationals. why they were supposed to even make it to the championship.

over the summer, it was almost as if the entire campus was buzzing about it. after all, it wasn’t often that the university was able to snag such good athletes. well, it was a division one school so of course it was a given that everyone was pretty good in their respective sport.

however, the zabrak sitting right across from you was utterly exceptional.

in almost every way.

all everyone raved about was his looks. which, you had to admit, the zabrak was gorgeous. with rich crimson skin, complemented by inky tattoos, sharp cheekbones, a dashing smile, and eyes that were pools of pure honey, it was difficult to deny the fact that he was attractive.

however, it was not hard to accept the other truth, either. he was quite acquainted with a majority of the women on campus, matching with almost every single one on tinder. that was if you were a part of a sorority or part of a sports team, of course.

what made matters worse was his intelligence. so, when you were paired with him for a project in your astronomy class, you learned fairly quickly that the zabrak was quite the smartass. and not a nice one, either. he seemed to enjoy harassing and berating you with his jokes and punchlines during every encounter.

he was everything you despised in a man. cocky, stubborn, and careless.

so why were you so attracted to him? you had absolutely no idea.

there’s a beat of silence, and the only noise the zabrak emits is a quiet exhale. the sound of his breath as it whistled through his teeth. yet, it’s followed by a quiet huff.

“you wish you could fuck me. you’ve mentioned it before, to that nautolan friend of yours, hmm? kit, right? he’s on the lacrosse team. your name may have come up a few times.”

heat flourishes through your cheeks as you glance upwards, any last remnants of focus completely crumbling away. your breath hitches in your throat at the smug smirk plastered on his lips, incisors poking against his lower lip.

golden eyes scour you, almost analyzing the sheer and utter shock plaguing your features. satisfaction glints within the depths, and you blink, scrambling to formulate some sort of response.

leaning forward, the zabrak tilts his head, so close that the tip of his nose grazed yours. this time, the words are a low rumble, harsh and gravelly.

almost like a growl.

“you told your little friend kit that you wished that i would just take you right here, in the library, and fuck you senseless. i find that interesting though, because you’ve been feeding me this little premonition that you absolutely loathe every aspect of my existence. now, do you actually want that little wish of yours to come true, or are you going to keep putting up the act and we act like this never happened?”

shrinking in your seat, you could almost feel the eyes searing into the both of you. there’s arched brows and low murmurs, a few giggles ringing through the space. swallowing thickly, you pull the collar of your hoodie over the lower half of your face, in a vain attempt to conceal your obvious embarrassment.

of course your fellow peers were staring. in the corner of your eye, you witness a group of girls roll their eyes. from the decals on their laptops, along with the other memorabilia, you pick out they’re chi omega girls, a popular sorority on campus.

you squeeze your eyes shut as you hear them whispering amongst each other. there’s a few points, and you were dead sure the dusty rose twi’lek in the black nike hoodie wanted to end your life right there.

maker, were you so flustered.

and he had you right where he wanted you.

“m-maul,” you stutter, fidgeting in your seat, “pe-people are s-staring.”

“do i look like i give a fuck?”

“i’m pretty sure the chi omega girls over there are going to send me death threats once they find my instagram,” you grumble, burying your head in your hands, “it’s your fault they’re all looking, you know.”

“hey!” the taunting tone in his voice sent your eyes wide open, strands of curses flowing from your tongue as he called over to the group, “i know we may have matched on tinder, but i’m not yours. i’m not territory to lay a claim on. i’m my own zabrak, you know. i can talk to other girls.”

letting out an exasperated sigh, you bury your head into your arms, laying your head on the table.

getting any work done with him was a lost cause.

“you okay? you gonna make it?”

for a moment, you melt under the tenderness in his tone, the way the words just sounded so gentle. he lays a hand on your shoulder, and you look up, the heat in your cheeks lingering as your eyes lock with his.

“we could get out of here, you know,” maul murmurs, “i live in an apartment with a few other guys on the lacrosse team. they’re all out, though. we could get some peace and quiet. and i could get you away from those chi clowns. i think they already found your twitter. i don’t like the way they’re looking at you either.”

i don’t like the way they’re looking at you either.

“um, sure. i don’t have anything else tonight. at least, i don’t think. i cleared my schedule so we could get this project done.”

“don’t worry about packing up your stuff. act like you’re on the phone or something and i’ll grab your things. i made this mess so i’ll clean it up,” it takes a moment to register the suggestion, but you knew it wasn’t a suggestion.

he wasn’t going to budge.

clearing your throat, you press your phone to your ear, “hello? oh hey! no, you didn’t catch me at a bad time. i just need to leave the room really quick.”

carefully, you weave your way through the maze of chairs and tables, pushing open the door. moments later, you’re outside, inhaling the brisk january air, grateful for the coolness as it seeps into your skin.

“you okay?”

you nod, probably a little too quickly, “yes.”

maul’s brow furrows, yet he doesn’t press any further, adjusting your book bag, “don’t worry about carrying this. i got it. i feel bad.”

“don’t feel bad i mean, you were just teasing--”

“i do,” he cuts in, “i feel bad because i know how you much you dislike unwanted attention. you always get so flustered when the professor calls on you with no warning. you either stutter just a little bit or you pull the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands. i was a little bit of an asshole back there, and i apologize for that. i took care of everything with those chi omega girls too.”

in the darkness, you nearly trip over the sidewalk, “you.. you notice that?”

“i sit right by you and have been for the past two weeks,” he snorts, “i pick up on a thing or two. take a left here.”

all around you, the lights of campus glow softly, illuminating the surroundings with a warm golden glow. the night sky is clear, a few stars glittering over the light pollution of the city. you follow the zabrak, unsure of what to say.

“were.. were you serious about what you said earlier? did kit really say something?”

your knees buckle at the sound of his laughter. how it was so sweet and melodic as it rang out into the night.

“he did say something,” the zabrak raises a hand, pointing to a complex just a few hundred feet ahead of you, “i’m right here. you still up for the offer? i mean, we still have a week and a half but i don’t want to waste your time. you have a lot going on with your classes already. how’s chemistry going?”

“how do you know about chemistry?” you arch a brow, a shudder coursing through you as the breeze rolls through the campus.

“you bitch about it all the time on your instagram story?” the zabrak holds his id next to the door, pulling it open, “regardless of what you may think, i do pay attention to you sweetheart.”

“and what’s that supposed to mean?” your tone shifts, “i’m not sure what you’re referring to, maul.”

“well,” a hand finds its way to the small of your back, just above the curve of your ass, pushing you gently. realizing that you have to go up the stairs, you begin to trudge upwards, his hand still lingering.

“you have this belief that you’re unattractive because you don’t possess conventional beauty set by the standards of social media and society. i know this because you’ve talked about it on your twitter and your instagram. also, your comment about ‘some other girl i fucked’ really took me aback because i don’t just sleep with anyone. you know that, right? i have standards. and i have goals too, outside from ‘how many bodies i have.’ you also said that to kit, which made me upset. is that what you really think of me?”

in that instant, it was almost as if your heart dropped. you stop at the top of the flight, the clammy sensation coating your hands only growing. wiping your hands on your leggings, you dodge his gaze, clamping your mouth shut.

gods, were you in deep shit now.

fingers grasp your chin, forcing your head to the right. maul takes a step forward, pushing your back against the wall. the concrete sends goosebumps lining your arms, hairs standing on end.

“i asked you a question,” your heart thuds as he leans forward, “is that what you really think of me sweetheart?”

“i-i--” you stammer, heat flourishing to your neck, “t-that’s not i think of you. i was just frustrated because i didn’t know how to process the feelings i had and i’m sorry.”

“feelings?” maul’s lips were practically brushing against yours. and gods, were they so tantalizingly soft, “what kind of feelings?”

“i may have a crush on you.”

“a crush? what is this, fifth grade?” the tease was edged with somewhat you couldn’t quite place your finger on. what was it? lust? want? hunger?

“a crush,” you affirm, “i have a crush on you, maul.”

“you wanna know what i told those chi omega girls?” he inquires, one hand on the wall, the other reaching for your face, cupping your cheek.

“what did you tell those girls?” fuck. were you in deeper shit now.

“i told them we were talking. that you were my girl,” your lashes flutter at his touch, “and you know wanna know what else i told them?”

“what else did you say?” puckering you lips, you take his thumb into your mouth, sucking lightly.

the sound that you hear is nothing like you’ve encountered before.

“i-i,” you feel your lips curve into a smirk as he grits his teeth, “i told them that i was going to fuck you after this. that i was going to completely destroy you.”

“you didn’t---”

his mouth connects with yours for an open-mouthed kiss. it’s electrifying yet blissful, something that would sweep you off your feet yet keep you grounded, keeping you wanting more and more. gods, was it such a craving. to stay in this stairwell, to cherish this moment.

it’s gratifying, enough to make you light-headed with giddiness.

it’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

yet, he pulls away, panting ever so slightly.

“fuck.”

“fuck?”

his jaw clenches, “you have no fucking idea how much i’ve been wanting to do that. ever since i met you. fuck, i need more. i need more of you. ‘taste so good.”

“we could always--”

“finish this in my apartment? yeah, i want to. but i don’t want to force anything on you and i don’t want to make you uncomfortable. i’ve just -- i’ve just been having dreams about you.”

“dreams?” you watch as the zabrak’s eyes squeeze shut, his body shifting away from yours. he’s heading towards the door now, nearly throwing it open.

“dreams about being inside of you. fuck. i need to know how you feel. if you’re as tight as i imagined. and fuck, i need to feel how wet you are too. how wet you get for me. have you ever tasted yourself before?”

you shake your head, “i haven’t.”

maul practically stalks down the hallway, finding his door. sliding the key into the lock, he steps inside, placing your bags on the floor, “would you rather study or would you rather let me express how i feel?”

thumbs loop through the pocket of your hoodie, pulling you close to him. fuck, you could feel him against your body. the stiffness of his cock underneath his sweats. how hot and bothered he was for you, practically aching for some sort of release.

“what do you mean ‘express how you feel’?” carefully, you dip a hand into the waistband, hand wrapping around the outline, squeezing gently.

“oh fuck,” maul throws his head back, moaning ever so slightly, “i-i may have a crush on you too. and i wanted to express how i felt. i-i’m not good with words.”

“why don’t you show me then?” your clit throbs as you feel along his shaft, fingers grazing over the ridges, thumb pressing against his tip.

“bend over the fucking counter then and i’ll fucking show you then, princess. you better not utter a single fucking word about this fucking project because it’s my turn to study you.”

☆☆☆☆☆

taggin' some maul moots: @maulieber @maulfrk @hounding-around @maximumninjavoid @xcertaindarkthingsx @zabrak-show @anakinswhore @arsonistvoyager @bonesaldente @catsnkooks@darthmaulslut

[chalkrevelations]

So. Back again, already. Bad Buddy, Ep 1, Part 3/4 was particularly short; have a little bonbon of a ramble. Due diligence: I’m current on this show, which means I’ve watched up through Ep 11, and there are likely to be some spoilers for later eps in here, along with some opinions about what we saw in the preview for Ep 12, the final ep. Mmhm. Anyway, if you don’t want to be spoiled, drive on by, watch the show (GMMTV on Youtube), and come back later.

OPEN ON the scene we left at the end of part 2, in which Korn and the Engineering secondary backup hobbits have discovered their mistake of coming up from behind on someone who they thought was Wai and kicking him face-first into the pavement, only to discover – much to their chagrin – that it’s not Wai at all, it’s actually the beast (lol) who took down Pat the last time they tried this throwdown. If Pran was going to adjust his smiley/frowny-face door sign right now, it would definitely be the frowny face as he picks himself up off the ground and wants to know wtf is going on, much like everyone else who’s suddenly found themselves in a completely different clusterfuck than the one they were anticipating. Korn, however, figures fuck it, this guy’s a friend of Wai’s, he’ll do, and charges Pran. This is what you get for playing your cards so close to the vest, Pat – none of your bros know that Pran’s supposed to be untouchable, and now you’re not gonna get your socks washed, and it’s gonna be your own damn fault, Mr. Mysterious. So, we’re three-on-one, Korn/Mo/Chang vs. Pran, and Engineering is actually not doing as well as they really ought to be, for a bunch of assholes with this much practice picking fights. I’m beginning to think that Engineering’s mouth is maybe writing checks that their fists can’t cash. Pran manages to knock them all down and make a break for it, leading Korn to yell at him not to run. I’m not sure if this is HILARIOUS or creepy – sure, bro, he’s going to hang around for you to try to kick his ass some more. OK. But at the same time – did you really expect him to be so cowed that he would just stop and let you whale on him some more just ‘cause you said? How are you treating other people, all the time, if that’s a reasonable expectation, in your experience?

Pran’s now dodging down an alley with Engineering in hot pursuit when Pat pops up out of nowhere, grabs him, shoves him around a corner into an even smaller side alley, and puts him up against a door (up-against-the-wall trope, MY BELOVED) with one big hand over Pran’s mouth and a finger of his other hand up to his own lips in the “silence” gesture. Remember that, we’ll see it again. Engineering runs past without seeing them, there’s a sudden moment of silence followed by a Musical Cue of Significance, everything slows down a tiny bit, and we close in on Pat and Pran, whose faces are thisclose together and … OK. Look. I have to take a minute here to talk about Nanon Korapat and his FACE. Those of you here from the Word of Honor Reax series are familiar with this sort of thing, given Zhang Zhehan and HIS face, but I have to tell you, both Nanon Korapat and Ohm Pawat must have won some sort of genetic sweepstakes when it comes to microexpressions, because both of their abilities to emote via glossy eyes and minute facial maneuvers are going to knock your socks off through the course of this show. We see it with both of them in this shot, but particularly with Nanon. On first watch - when we don’t have all the backstory on these two, nor on where Pran has been that he transferred “back” from, nor why he went there in the first place – I think it’s easy to miss some of what’s going on. This scene really rewards going back and re-watching with all that info in your back pocket, because you can better understand this whole series of emotions that Pran goes through, flickering across Nanon’s face, lickety-split, as Pran realizes that Pat has just saved him, as some of Pran’s protective walls start to crumble (primed, very likely, by his Moment with the watch the night before (in Part 1.2)), and as Pran comes to the absolutely horrified realization that his emotional armor’s been breached, before he manages to shove Pat off of him and away – and Nanon does all this with half of his face covered because Pat’s still got his hand over Pran’s mouth. THIS GUY, y’all.

Let me also point out that in amongst the whole fistful of emotions, I absolutely believe that this early, Pran is already starting to fall for Pat again, and I haven’t seen anyone this pissed off about his own stupid gay crush on some wholeass idiot since teenaged Lan Wangji as brought to you by Wang Yibo.

It’s going to be delightful.

ANYWAY, Pran is immediately distrustful of whatever subterfuge Pat must surely have up his sleeve, but my guy, let me tell you - right now, he’s just trying to make sure his little sister doesn’t cut off the laundry service. Give him a couple of episodes, he’ll have waaay more skin in the game. There’s some arguing, and Pa conveniently pulls up in the getaway family car, which Pat practically shoves Pran into. That doesn’t last long before Pran makes Pa pull over, because he’ll walk from here, thanks, but not before Pat shoves a clean shirt at him to change into so that Pran’s mom doesn’t find out about the fight, because Pat knows she’ll blame him. And let’s be clear – she wouldn’t be entirely wrong about his responsibility for what happened, but he’s not wrong that she’d blame him no matter what the circumstances actually were. (Which is. Ugh. One of the reasons I’m going to be super-disappointed with Ep 12 if we do get a break-up and a timeskip, because of the way it just undercuts the potential for some exploration and development not only of Dissaya’s relationship with her own son, but with this kid next door, who’s grown up knowing how much she doesn’t trust him - particularly how much she doesn’t trust him with her son - and what potentially happens when, in the face of that, she could see what Pat really feels for Pran, how he takes care of Pran, how he holds Pran together but also is willing to ultimately let Pran go – rather than clutching on to him – if it seems like that’s what’s best for Pran.) (Also I desperately need some fic of holidays in the future, when everyone has come home with their significant others - including Wai, who’s still Dissaya’s favorite child, even if she didn’t birth him, and the two of them stay up late at night in the kitchen after everyone else is asleep, talking around this whole thing as an undercurrent as they talk about other stuff, because it’s the same journey both of them had to go through re: Pran and “protecting” him (from Pat) and dealing with their own feelings of hurt and anger rather than projecting that onto Pran. Wai is Dissaya is Wai, the curtain is the slap is the curtain, it’s just that Wai may be at about a 9, but Dissaya’s turned up to 12.)

Anyway anyway, Pat also wants a “thank you” as Pran stalks off – taking the shirt with him, let’s be aware – but I’m with Pran on this one: I don’t know that you deserve thanks when all you did was rescue him from the assholes you basically unleashed on him, buddy. We learn that the reason Pat had a clean shirt to offer Pran – and the reason Pa was there in the getaway family car in the first place – is because she’s brought a load of Pat’s laundry to drop off at his dorm room (:hands:). She proceeds to give Pat whatfor – as he knew she would – calls him a gangster, wants to know exactly wtf is wrong with him, and tells him to get over the stupid video that was posted online of Wai flipping them off, because nobody respects him (Pat) anyway, before she reiterates her directive to leave Pran alone and huffs off back home. We finally get a flashback that shows us what this is all about, as we see Baby Pat and Baby Pa bicycling to the lake, where Baby Pran also shows up and is met by Baby Pat trying to assert his territory (which I don’t think Baby Pran looked like he was interested in fighting about before Baby Pat started in on him, honestly) before the incipient fight is interrupted by Baby Pa drowning, whereupon Baby Pran jumps in the lake and saves her. Once he’s got her out of the lake, Baby Pat shoves him away to grab her, and Baby Pran looks affronted, but I have to extend Baby Pat a little bit of grace here, because that’s his baby sister who just almost drowned, and everything we’ve seen does seem to show that he actually cares about her, so I can forgive this hindbrain urgent need to make sure that she’s safe and to comfort her while she cries. Baby Pran leaves, but he’s dropped his watch, which is The Watch, which Baby Pat finds after spending a moment staring after Baby Pran with some kind of significant look on his babyface.

Cut back to present day, and now we see Pran in his bedroom at home – why tf are any of these families paying for dorm rooms when these guys seem to spend all their time at home, anyway? – and there’s a tap on the window. He gets up, open the curtains, sees nothing, closes the curtains, turns away from the window, whereupon Pat bursts through his curtains (there is a curtain theme already going on with Pran and privacy/secrecy vs. the breaching thereof, I’m telling you) and ends up with one hand over Pran’s mouth and gesturing for silence again. This is twice in Part 1.3 that we’ve seen this pose with the two of them, which is interesting, given the promo shot for the series overall is a shot of the pair in this pose, but with Pran covering Pat’s mouth and gesturing for silence. So, we’re building this pattern of Pat demanding silence in the moment, but an overall of theme of Pran demanding a general silence and secrecy about whatever is going on between them.

Pat tells Pran he comes in peace, but no, he really doesn’t, because he’s there to talk about this situation with Wai, by which I mean he’s got the fucking balls to look Pran in the face and tell him to lie down and give up Wai to Engineering – to stop protecting his best friend so that Engineering can kick the shit out of him. And Pat’s also got the nerve to be like, offended, that Pran’s not willing to do this - his tone of voice implies Pran is being super unreasonable when Pran won’t agree. Bro, you are not looking good, here. At all. Pran, faced with this asshole batshittery, is understandably like, well, how about this: You guys leave him alone, and I’ll stop kicking your asses. Pat, continuing to (NOT) win hearts and minds, wants to know if it’s really SO HARD to understand his point of view, and Pran, again understandably, is all, YES, it actually is, and also, I don’t want to talk to you, you psycho, so get the hell out of my room. Pat continues to insist that he’s there because he doesn’t want to fight with Pran – just, you know, fuck Pran’s friends, and not in the happy fun way (as Brian Kinney would say) – while Pran is clearly having a hard time believing this is actually happening. As a reasonable person who’s also not poisoned by toxic masculinity, I’m on Pran’s side of this one, watching in disbelief as Pat continues to try to get him to back off. I mean, I can’t reiterate enough how many times, in about two minutes, we watch Pat try to convince Pran to walk away and let Engineering assault his best friend in order to salve Pat’s pride. This is exactly the kind of thing that makes people – including Wai and Pran’s mom (have I mentioned yet how they’re the same person?) – not trust you, Pat. In general, or with their baby boy. During the course of this cursed conversation, we do learn that Wai and Pran have been close friends since before Pran came back, not just since starting classes at the university, so presumably they were friends at wherever Pran was banished off to for three (?) years, so that’s nice.

Scene ends with a staredown, neither Pat nor Pran willing to back down, and then we smashcut to the next day, with the Sharks and the Jets lined up for a rumble. This will mean we’ve seen literally three fistfights in this episode, but nobody has been to a class yet. Pat and Pran are directly faced off as the leaders of their factions, with Korn and Wai faced off against each other as their seconds. Pat demands Pran turn Wai over to Engineering and magnanimously promises no one else will get hurt. Pran looks at Wai, looks back at Pat, crosses his arms over chest and, in front of everybody, refuses. Pat blah blahs about the insult to his manly pride and how he needs satisfaction, everyone looks around at their backup, preparing for a fight, and end Part 3.

Next time, on Part 4: Korn breaks down whatever fragile peace they’ve managed to accomplish by yelling for everyone in Engineering to get everyone in Architecture and then launching himself at Wai to punch him right in the face out of nowhere. :hands: (lit. and fig.) Will someone please give this gd trashfire gremlin the spanking he’s so obviously begging for and calm him down? (Preferably Wai, as that appears to be who he’s fixated on.)