#gotta get me some new jam i guess

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Know Your Place 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, age gap, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall, destroyer!Chris [for the purposes of this AU, I will give him the last name Jackson] (Professor AU)

Summary: after a life time of home schooling, you finally get to experience the real world in college. (petite reader)

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. 

The grocery store is nice. It’s not very big or crowded either. You expected one of those manic superstores you saw on TV. Instead, shoppers mill around in a mellow din and investigate apples or jars of jam. 

You take out your list as you step out of the way of another customer. As you unfold it, Walter stands nearby. He looks around the store, his chin high, and heat speckles across your neck. You look up at him and give a sheepish smile. 

“You don’t have to stick around. You just need coffee, right?” 

“I’m in no hurry,” he assures you and peeks down at the paper in your hand, “so, what’s on the list? What are we looking for?” 

“You really don’t have to,” you insist. “I’m sure I can figure this all out.” 

“I’m sure you can,” he says and takes a basket from the stack near the door. “But I’m offering because I want to.” 

“Hm, okay. Bet it would be faster...” you mutter. “Okay, er, zucchini.” 

“Zucchini,” he nods. “Well, look at me talking a big game and you stumped me. I don’t think I’ve ever bought any.” 

“Oh, uh, yeah.” 

“No problem, it’s gotta be with the... squash,” he points and gently nudges you ahead of him. “Right there.” 

He walks with you down the aisle and you squeeze by a cart as he trails behind you. You stop before the green vegetables and take a bag. Walter nears and offers up the basket. You bag up the zucchini and set it carefully inside. 

“Alright, and eggs... flour...” you look down the list. 

“Making a cake?” He wonders as he turns down the next row of produce. 

“Muffins. I thought... every day I could have one for breakfast. Like my mom makes. And I could freeze the extras for next week.” You explain, “and lunches, just a loaf of bread and tuna.” 

“Wow, seems like you’ve got everything planned out,” he muses. 

“I thought I did but I couldn’t even find the grocery store,” you laugh nervously. 

“Don’t be rough on yourself. You’re new. You’ll get around,” he assures. “Hey, be right back, gonna go grab my beans.” 

“Oh, okay.” 

“Dairy’s down there,” he points before he hurries off. 

“Thanks,” you utter after him. 

You grab a carton of eggs and peer around at the aisles, squinting up at the signs for each aisle. You see him down one as you search for the flour. It’s in the same row as the coffee. As you come down it, he tucks away his cell phone. 

He approaches as you look at the bags of flour. You grab a small one. Light enough to carry back to your dorm. 

“Here,” he takes the eggs and puts them in the basket. As you put the flour in after them, you sense his size again. The way he looms reminds you of how small you feel and really are. “So, besides getting lost, how’s school going?” 

“Good, I think. Yeah. I like most of my classes,” you say. 

“But...” 

“But?” You check your list again and find a tin of baking soda. 

“You don’t sound entirely pleased.” 

“I don’t?” You look at him. “Well, I guess I miss my mom. A little.” 

“That’s normal. And it just means you love her.” He insists. 

“I do,” you agree. 

“What about friends?” He prompts. 

“None, so far,” you shrug. “But I guess it takes time.” 

“No one you know from home going here?” He asks. 

You shake your head, “home schooled.” 

“Home schooled,” he hums, “wow.” 

“I know, it’s weird.” 

“No, it’s not.” 

“That’s what the guy in my history class said. It’s okay. It’s different. I think it’s weird to go to a school school. Sounds scary,” you say. 

“Well, you are,” he chuckles. “You’re in college. That means you’re pretty smart, home school or not.” 

“Maybe,” you agree dully and check your list. 

“Marshall?” A deep timbre undercuts the next item written down, “figures I run into you.” A man appears at Walter’s other side. “Getting that piss you call coffee.” 

“Chris,” Walter greets flatly. 

“Don’t act so happy to see me,” the man retorts. “How’s classes? You suspend anyone yet? I know it’s the first day but I wouldn’t be surprised.” 

“Haha,” Walter drones sarcastically. 

The man puts his hand on the shelve and as he leans, his eyes fall on you. He’s a tiny bit shorter than Walter but still taller than you. And his dark hair is slightly fluffy and a thick beard darkens his square jaw. His irises are bright and blue. 

“Oops, I’m interrupting,” he says. 

“Doing some shopping,” Walter answers. 

“Don’t tell me you’re in one of his classes. Good luck.” The other man chirps. 

“Don’t listen to him,” Walter girds. 

“Him? Chris,” the man reaches across Walter’s front and offers his hand. “And you... TA?” 

“Mauve,” you shake his hand gently as his covers yours completely. His grip is strong and firm. “Um, we’re... I...” you hesitate as you try to come up with some sort of explanation. “We just met but Walter’s been so helpful. I’m new here so I don’t my way around yet.” 

“Walter being helpful? And who wouldn’t be for you, Mauve?” The man grins. 

“Chris,” Walter growls and angles away from him, “what else is on your list?” 

“Erm, bread,” you flick it nervously with your thumb, the other man peer around Walter at you. 

“Nice to see you, then, Marshall,” he says. 

“Mm, you too,” Walter doesn’t look back as he marches past you.  

You smile at Chris and give a tiny wave before you follow the larger man back down the aisle. You catch up to him as the list crinkles in your hand, “is that a friend?” You ask. 

“Kinda,” he shrugs. “He’s in Psych too. Sometimes we teach 304 together.” 

“Oh. Cool. Must be nice to get to work with others like that,” you say. “He seems nice.” 

“Nice? Chris?” He echoes. “Can be, I guess.” 

“Oh, okay,” you accept. 

“Mauve, you’re a nice girl. You think everyone is nice. Just like that guy in the Student Centre, right?” He says. 

“Well, he wasn’t mean.” 

“No, because he was trying to trick you,” he turns down another aisle and stops by the small cans of fish. “I’m not trying to scare you, I’m just looking out for you. Guys like the one who sat at your table, they aren’t nice. Colleges aren’t full of nice guys.” 

Your lips fall straight and you nod. You pick out a can of tuna as you try to hide your anxiety. You know he’s right. At the orientation, they told you how to call Campus Police and about those buttons on the polls that set off the sirens to signal help. And you’ve seen the news stories. Your mom couldn’t stop watching them before you left. 

“My mom told me the same,” you say. 

“She’s a smart woman. You wanna stay safe for her, right? She must be very worried to have you so far away, huh?” He drawls. You nod. “So, how about I keep an eye on you? Just so you can call and tell her everything’s good.” 

“I think... yeah, that’s a good idea,” you agree. “Walter...” 

“Yes?” He raises the basket for you to put the cans of tuna inside. 

“Are we friends now?” 

You peek up at him and you’re surprised to see his lips curve, just a little, “sure.” 

[jobrolion]

𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔

mista x gn!reader

summary | you first met mista when he came to the bakery you worked at, and almost every monday after he would entertain you while you were on the clock.

notes | fluff and some kissing, reader is referenced to be inexperienced

wc | 1819

****

Mista came to the bakery you worked at almost every Monday after his first visit a year ago. And he always ordered the same thing. A cappuccino and a cornetto pastry with jam filling, the day he asked you out it was strawberry.

The door chimed and you locked eyes with him as he closed the door behind himself. He breathed in the air that smelled of flour and yeast, sugar and spices, and he tried to catch yours too, to no avail. 

“Good morning, Mista. How are you?” It was always a genuine question and you always got a genuine answer. You were already getting his order together, moving to the side to make his drink.

“Much better now that I’m here. Slow morning?” 

“A little, the rain is keeping people away. Not you, thankfully.” You smiled brightly at him, “The jam flavor today is strawberry, but you could always switch it up and get a custard or chocolate?”

“Nice try.” He tsked your name, sitting on the stool by the counter facing you. Nobody else was in the bakery so he could keep you to himself for the time being.

After sliding him his coffee and pastry, you leaned on the counter, sipping your drink as he started on his.

“Excuse me if I’m overstepping a boundary here, but where’d you get the bruise under your eye? Are you ok?”

“I’m fine now. Just one of the perks of being a mafioso.”

You paused, staring at him for a moment before letting out an undignified snort.

“Be serious, Mista.” You said between laughs. “If you don’t want to tell me that’s ok.”

“Gotta keep the mystery.”

“I guess so.” For as long as he’d been coming in he’d been enigmatic, this was part of the appeal.

For an hour you both talked, never a lull in conversation, before the rain stopped and customers started pouring in. 

“Until we meet again.” He bowed with an exaggerated wink.

“See you, Mista.” You curtsied in return, waving him off. 

When you got off of work you went straight into your errands. Your day off was tomorrow and you wanted it to be strictly for leisure. 

After visiting the post office you took your time at the grocery store. As your job you baked pastries and breads, but your true passion lies with cooking. So you browsed ingredients and brainstormed new recipes to experiment with. 

You had your eye on the freshly made pasta and the display of mushrooms. They were practically begging to be taken home. A cream based sauce would do nicely with them and the herbs you grew in your garden and the spices you kept in your cabinet. 

You made conversation with the cashier as they rang you out. You left for your car once they were done and what you owed was paid. 

Before you could start the ignition you saw a shadow and heard a knock on your window. Clear as day, Guido Mista was there outside your car, waiting with a grin. You exited your car and matched his enthusiasm. 

“Small world, huh?”

Mista laughed, a little nervously and stared for a moment before…

“I just uh- I have something to ask you. It’s been slowly eating away at me, but I’ve never been able to ask you because it feels wrong to while you’re working and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything. And I will never show up to the bakery ever again if you ask me to so don’t hesitate to tell me off or-”

“What are you trying to get at?” Patience is a virtue, but the man in front of you was struggling.

“Would you want to maybe get dinner with me sometime?” He was actually wringing his fingers. This man would shamelessly flirt with you every time he came into your work and here he was sweating over asking you out.

“Like a date?”

“Exactly like a date.” 

“I’d really like that, Mista. Are you free tomorrow night?”

It was a date. He chose the location and picked you up at 7 the next day. But before that, you fretted over what to wear and how you were going to act. This was not going to be the same as all those Monday mornings he’d spend at your bakery. You tried to calm down, it’s just Mista, the funny, flirty guy who entertains you while you’re on the clock. But it’s also Mista, the man you’d been crushing on for over half a year now who made your cheeks hot to the touch and your heart flutter.

When he picked you up, he knocked on your door, a single rose in his hand and a blush across his cheeks. You smiled as he gave it to you.

“Watch there's a thorn right there.”

You looked and sure enough there was a thorn where you were about to place your hand. “Where did you get this, Mista?”

“That’s top secret.”

“I’m flattered that you’d steal a rose for me, touching really.”

His cheeks flushed a darker shade of red and stayed that way as he took your hand. 

“Where are you taking me?”

“The Libeccio. It’s a favorite of mine. The food is to die for.” 

“I pass it on my way to work, I’m excited to try it!”

When you arrived, you were seated in a candle lit corner by a darkened window. It was obvious to you that this was planned and that warmed your heart.

After you ordered you noticed a group of young men who kept glancing over and looking away quickly, talking hushedly amongst themselves. 

“Mista, don’t look now, but those guys over there keep looking at us.”

He did look, and immediately a panic washed over his face. 

“What’s wrong? Do you know them?”

“Ah so this is embarrassing. They’re my friends.” He simplified it. “They kind of didn’t believe that you said yes. I didn’t think they’d actually show up. I’m really sorry.”

“Some friends, huh?”

Mista laughed nervously, “Yeah, something like that.”

Truth was, the rest of Bucciarati’s team knew of his infatuation with you, but not only did they doubt the date, but they also doubted your existence. So apparently, they had taken it upon themselves to settle the matter by spying on Mista.

“Should we ignore them?”

A sharp nod was your answer, so the two of you averted your eyes for the rest of the meal. He did assure you later that they meant well and were excited for him, despite them not believing him fully.

The date went as well as it could have, disregarding that minor incident. And before you knew it, you were already back on your doorstep.

“I’m glad you asked me out, Mista. I was too afraid to.” You confessed. 

“Really? What about me is so frightening?” He looked over himself, faux concern painting his features which made you laugh, making him drop the act, smiling.

Mista then took your hand in his and leaned in, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek. As he pulled away, you guided his face towards yours and kissed his lips. You swore you short circuited, having never felt a spark like this with anyone before. After a moment, you hesitantly pulled away.

“Will I see you Monday?” You said breathlessly.

“Without a doubt.”

Two more Monday’s came and went before Mista asked you for a second date. This time you were on your feet all day, exploring the city, stopping occasionally for a break, once at a cafe and once at a fountain, and many times to steal kisses from each other. You wished you could fit more hours in a day, never would you want this one to end.

After dinner at a hole in the wall restaurant Mista asked if you wanted to come back to his place for a while. 

You were hesitant. Before him you had barely ever kissed anybody, and you had never gone back to anyone's house for anything, ever.

But you trusted Mista and you wanted to spend more time with him, so you said yes.

His apartment was small and simple, a stark contrast to his personality, but it somehow suited him. It was comfortable with ambient lighting and a neutral color pallet. He offered you a glass of water which you accepted. Standing by his kitchen counter you smiled, thanking him for the time you spent together.

“I should be the one thanking you, I haven't had a day this nice in too long ” 

Eventually you both migrated to his couch, sitting closer than you really had to. After a few more short remarks about the day, he leaned in, pressing a short kiss to your cheek. 

“Kiss me here, Mista.” You pointed to your lips, eyes piercing his.

He complied, kissing you fully and passionately, hands finding their way to your face, holding you sweetly. 

It could have been a minute or an hour that you sat there worshiping each other's lips. But then he placed a hand on your waist and a groan escaped him, taking you by surprise, you pulled back.

“Shit, my bad. I don't want to cross any lines here.”

“It's ok.” You laughed nervously. “It’s just that I’ve never gone any further than this with anyone. I don’t know if I want that tonight.”

“Then we take this at your pace, alright?” Your heart filled with adoration, all anxieties washing away with a single sentence. 

“Is more of this ok?”

“Take the lead.”

After a while, you startled when you noticed the time. You hated to go, but you had to open the bakery the next day. 

“I’ll see you Monday?”

“You'll see me sooner.”

Mista drove you home. Even after this, it was like nothing changed. You could still talk endlessly and being with him just felt natural. A year of Mondays brought the two of you closer week by week until now when you swore you were already in love.

He kissed you at your doorstep and watched as you closed the door behind you. And when he was sure you couldn’t see him he pumped his fist in the air and headed back to his car. But you did see him and now you were certain you were in love.

As you opened the bakery early the next morning you lamented another rainy day. The gray sky a sharp contrast to your sunny disposition. A dreary middle of the week Wednesday promised little to no customers which meant you got to spend the day alone. 

When you finished your opening tasks, you sat with a drink and waited. Fixing the displays and cleaning could only keep you occupied for so long.

As you took the last sip, the door chimed and you turned your head to see Mista greeting you with a wave and a smile.

****

title reference

from the morning - nick drake

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Ace Trappola Club Wear Voice Lines

When Summoned: The basketball club's most promising rookie has arrived! You better not take your eyes off my fresh plays, 'kay?

Summon Line: You think the way I handle the ball is slick? That's nothing to be shocked about. There's way more difficult ball handling maneuvers I can do easily.

Groooovy!!: We're gonna bang out this victory in a snap. Counting on ya to cheer as loud as you can for that Ace guy!

Home: Guess I should go for the win!

Home Idle 1: I'm the type of guy who likes to wear wristbands on both wrists. I feel like it helps with my balance that way.

Home Idle 2: Practicing passes with Floyd is basically a matter of life and death. But that's 'cause he's always throwing them at breakneck speeds!

Home Idle 3: When I got injured during practice, Jamil-senpai gave me some first-aid treatment. He was real good at it, too.

Home Idle - Login: I don't know about having a fighting spirit or nothin', but sure, I wanna stand out in a game, y'know? So I gotta practice a little bit for that, I guess.

Home Idle - Groovy: There's tons of basketball shoes with cool designs, but... They're so expensive that when I have to buy some new ones, I have a hard time picking one.

Home Tap 1: There's a street basketball court in my neighborhood back home. So I can so a little practice on my own during the holidays, too.

Home Tap 2: When you play basketball, it's common to jam a finger once in a while. It really hurts to bend, so it really gets bothersome when casting magic...

Home Tap 3: It's so thrilling to just drive the ball down the court. I might be more suited for offense than defense, I think.

Home Tap 4: I have a toy version of a basketball hoop in my dorm room. Sometimes I'll take a few shots to help me get in the right mindset to study.

Home Tap 5: Oh, since you just picked up that ball, can you pass it to me? I want to practice my catch and shoot.

Home Tap - Groovy: Hey, we should all play basketball together sometime soon. If we invite Deuce or whoever, we can probably get a 3-on-3 game goin'.

Duo: [ACE]: Thanks for the backup, Floyd-senpai! [FLOYD]: Kani-chan, you better not miss.

Requested by @bbenoya.

[the-lone-writer94]

Wanted Dead or Alive

Dean Winchester x (You) Female Reader

*Contains Supernatural season 5 spoilers*

Summary: Set in late season 5 after Dean finds out he is the vessel for Michael which he tries to not think about. Hoping that a new job will keep his mind off things. He journeys to Texas where there had been a series of attacks. There he runs into an old flame (You - female reader) the thing is you haven't heard from Dean in four years... and you're pissed. Just how will this little reunion go?  

Age rating: 18+ mature content *Warnings: rough sex (sort of), guns and violence*

Word count: 4,248

Crouched down behind a cluster of trees, my finger on the trigger of the flamethrower gun as my gaze scanned the perimeter before me. I had been tracking this fucker for five days now, which had finally led me here. Perhaps, there were worse ways of spending a Saturday night than sitting in the dirt. At this rate, I wanted nothing more than to gank this thing, call it an evening and return to my cabin where I could throw back several bottles of beer.

Suddenly in the distance, there was a faint sound of shuffling. My jaw clenched, as my hold on the flamethrower tightened. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I slowly ascended from the ground. Gently, I stepped forward, my eyes glued to the shadows before me. The sounds of shuffling grew louder, as I knew I was closing in.

My heartbeat quickened, and the adrenaline pumped through my veins. The shadows before me formed, and I raised my flamethrower and just as I was about to press down, my heart lurched forward. It took me several seconds for my mind to recollect what was before me, and I gasped.

The figures before me did not belong to the monster I had been hunting, but two men. The familiarity of his face returning back to me, as I had once upon a time gazed on.

“Woah, woah…” He said, as he raised his hands in the air.

“Dean… Dean Winchester?” I questioned.

Dean’s face softened, and a smile flashed across his face. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Behind Dean was man that I did not recognize, he was taller than Dean, with long shaggy hair. Even under the night sky, I could make out the dark shadows that laid beneath his eyes.

“Friend of yours.” The other man commented, his lips pursed as if he wasn’t necessarily pleased.

Anger suddenly shot through me, as I lowered my flamethrower. My right fist extended, as I swung and my fist connected with Dean’s face.

Taken aback, Dean fell to the ground, and the man who stood behind Dean’s eyes widened. “Not a friend, I guess.”

Dean remained on the ground as he groaned in pain. “Still got that mean right hook.”

I shifted in my position, and rested my hand on my hip. “That is what you get for never calling me.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

We reached my cabin in Lake Worth, as I pulled up and removed myself from my truck. Behind me I watched as Dean’s Impala came to a halt. After I had a moment’s breath, I had felt a slight sliver of guiltiness after punching Dean in the face, that I decided to swallow whatever anger I had in me and invited him, and who I had learnt to be his brother Sam back to my place.

I stalked towards my front door as I jammed my keys into the lock and pushed the door wide open, with Sam and Dean on my heels. My hand patted against the light switch, which immediately lit up the room.

“I’ll get you some ice for that nose,” I said to Dean, then added, “and don’t touch anything.”

I watched as Sam’s eyes narrowed into something in the distance. “Is that a… stripper pole?” He asked uncomfortably.

“Dude, don’t call her a stripper-” Dean immediately interjected, “believe me.” He warned.

“I teach pole fitness on my days off… girl’s gotta eat.” I answered, before I stalked off, and returned with a bag of ice and three beers.

Dean and Sam had both made themselves comfortable on the couch. I flinched at the sight of Dean’s muddy boots on the couch, as I gently slapped his legs. He removed his feet from the couch and leaned forward, then I shoved the ice pack and beer towards Dean, which he immediately took it, then pressed the ice pack against his nose.

I crossed towards Sam and handed him the bottle of the ice cold beer. “Thanks.” He said.

I took the seat opposite them, in a single chair nearby the window, a stack of classic rock vinyl records just adjacent to the chair, where I had been sorting out for days now, I cracked open the beer and took several long gulps.

“What were you doing out there in the woods?” Dean was the first on to break the silence.

“Hunting.” I answered nonchalantly, as I pulled my duffel bag full of weapons into the center and opened it up.

Sam’s eyes widened, as he inspected my weapons. “These are all military grade stuff- where did you get all this?” He questioned.

“What are you a cop now?” I shot back, then shrugged, “I have my ways.”

Dean chuckled, and then asked. “You’re hunting now?”

I shrugged. “I kill whatever disrupts the town… But I guess, now that you’re here, we’re after the same thing.”

“We read in the paper that there were a string of animialistic like attacks.” Sam added.

I nodded. “The locals thought it was wolf attacks,” I scoffed, “wolves in fucking Texas. Give me a break.” I removed myself from the chair, and crossed towards the living room where I had my guns, and computers scattered on the dining room table. It was evident that I hardly had any company around. I grabbed my computer and handed it to Sam. “I didn’t think too much about it at first, but I saw these videos posted by the victims just before they disappeared. If any random person watched them, they wouldn’t think too much about it, but with a little digitally enhanced programmes, it’s obvious that something was there with them.”

Sam inspected the videos on my laptop, as his eyes widened. “Wow.” He commented.

“God bless people for documenting every inch of their life and posting it onto Myspace.” I added.

“What’s Myspace?” Dean asked.

Sam and I shot him a stare, as we both ignored his remark. “Well, with what I can see in these videos and that flamethrower you had earlier, I can only assume that you’re dealing with a-”

“Wendigo.” I said, cutting off Sam.

Dean cleared his throat, and removed the ice pack from his face. “Sammy and I dealt with a Wendigo couple of years back in Blackwater Ridge, but the one we killed only surfaces every twenty-three years. These killings, seem to have never occurred in Lake Worth before now?”

I shook my head. “This one must be new, and it’s getting busy.” I said, then added, “I don’t know- things have been whack recently, it’s as if every monster out there is getting bold, and coming out from the darkness.”

Dean and Sam stared at each other momentarily, an anxious look painted across their faces. “Yeah, I guess I know why that is.” Dean said.

“What?” I asked.

“The Apocalypse.” Dean answered.

“The what now?” I choked.

Dean glanced down at his feet, “we may have-” he muttered beneath his breath, and then peered up at me. His gaze locked with mine. “We may have had something to do with the Apocalypse.”

I exhaled, remained silent and downed the entire contents of my beer. “Well, that’s just super. I guess there’s nothing else to do but to eat, drink, fuck and gank any evil sons of bitches that crosses my path.”

Dean smirked at my remark, whilst Sam on the other hand didn’t seem to pleased.

“So, what now?” I asked, trying to change the subject. It isn’t everyday that you hear the World is ending, yet, after the shit I had seen, nothing really seemed to surprise me anymore.

“If it’s a Wendigo, then I guess Sam and I will take care of it.” Dean instructed.

“Why do you get to take care of it? I’ve been tracking this thing for five days now.” I shot back, and added, “plus why should I sit back out of the action.”

I knew that Dean had always had a savior complex, wanting to protect everyone around him. I didn’t necessarily blame him, given the way he had been raised and his life. Suddenly, my jaw unclenched and I cleared my throat. “Anyway, that thing didn’t appear tonight, it must have known we were closing in on it. I say we go back there, but this time I’ll play the role of the damsel in distress to smoke it out.”

“Use you as bait?” Dean hissed, “hell no! It’s too dangerous.”

“Dean, I can take care of myself… plus I know you will be there backing me up.” I argued.

Dean’s brows furrowed, he was lost for words. Knowing deep down that I was right, as he tried to conjure up the words to fight me back.

Sam cocked his head to the side. “She’s right, Dean,” he spoke, “we were so close tonight to killing it, but it never appeared. Monsters don’t take day offs. If there’s a bait, I’m sure it’ll take it.”

Dean’s lips pressed into a thin line, and his nostrils flared. “I don’t like this.”

“Of course you don’t,” I commented.

“One bad move… if I see one thing that is too risky, I’m jumping right in.” Dean said in a stern voice.

“Naturally.” I commented, and then added, “well, I’m hungry. How about I make us some food?”

The expression on Dean’s face softened, as he shifted in his position. “I could eat.” He said. My gaze jumped to Sam’s, as he simply nodded.

“How about a bacon cheeseburger with fries, and I’ve got some cherry pie.”

A smile flashed across Dean’s face, he was like a child in a candy store. “Awesome!”

“Hmm… you have maybe like a salad or something?” Sam asked.

I cocked an eyebrow as I stared at Dean. “Is he for real?”

Dean shrugged. “I’m afraid yes.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The following morning, Dean and Sam had driven into town for some extra supplies that they needed in order to hunt down the Wendigo. It had been a while since they had been in Texas, and Dean had forgotten just how much he had missed the local cuisine.

Sam waited in the car, whilst Dean picked up a couple of things in a convenience store. Whatever it was, Sam hadn’t asked, in fact, on some level he’d rather not know.

Moments later, Dean returned into the car with a plastic bag full of stuff. His hand extended back as he dumped the bag into the back seat.

“All done.” Dean commented, and added, “let’s head back.”

The Impala roared to life, as they continued down the road. An awkward silence filled the car, and Sam’s gaze bounced from the window and then to Dean.

From Dean’s peripheral vision, he noticed the constant looks Sam was giving him and his jaw clenched. “What now?” He said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Are we not gonna talk about her?” Sam began.

“What’s there to talk about?” Dean said, his eyes remained fixated on the road. “I was in town, read in the papers that there was a series of strange deaths. Turned out it was a nest of vampires that was taunting the cabins down in Lake Worth, one of them being hers. I ganked the sucker, and there’s that.”

Sam scoffed. “I remember that, Dean. It was when I was in college-”

“So what, Sammy?”

Sam leaned forward. “I remember that, that job only took you about two days. Dad said you were gone for a whole week.”

Dean smirked, “Exactly.”

Sam pulled a face. “One week to you is the longest relationship you’ve ever been in. Clearly, this girl meant something to you.”

“What? No, she’s cool,”

“She’s literally you, Dean.”

“We have a lot in common, yes- oh man, you know she does this thing on the pole-”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t wanna hear this.”

“Like it’ll ever work… we can’t afford attachments in this job,” Dean shot back, “and now with all this crap about the Apocalypse, and Michael wanting to wear me like a meat suit.” He sighed, “I got bigger shit to deal with.”

Sam held his gaze with Dean’s. There was no denying that ever since they had unleashed Lucifer from his cage, and brought upon the end of the world, that the word complicated wasn’t even enough to describe everything. Sam knew that Dean was too hot headed and stubborn to see what was in front him, but Sam couldn’t help but ponder what would happen to Dean if Sam were to give up himself to Lucifer, trapping himself down in Hell, if they failed to retrieve the rest of the rings from the Four Horseman.

“Look, Dean-” Sam began.

“I don’t wanna hear it Sammy!” Dean shot back, “let’s just do what we do best, kill this thing and move on.” He ordered.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Time had certainly stood still, as I sat uncomfortably in my tent awaiting for the Wendigo to come and claim me. Beneath the tent, we had drawn Anasazi symbols, hoping for an advantage on my behalf. The flamethrower gun laid beside me, concealed underneath a blanket. I wasn’t even sure if the Wendigo would take the bait, but after all, this was the only way. Knowing that the Winchesters were only a mere distance away.

Suddenly, a faint sound of rustling reached my ears. My hand immediately threw away the blanket over the flamethrower gun as I held it and unzipped the tent. Annoyance had found me as my vision fixated on what the noise had belonged to. Before me was a wild rabbit that hopped across from my tent.

I groaned, “Seriously, dude,” as the impatience was growing on me.

All of a sudden, whilst I was lost in thought, in the speed of light claw marks had appeared on the side of the tent. Taken aback, I felt a force grab onto my legs as it pulled me away from the tent, causing my hands to slip away from the flamethrower. Everything had happened so fast, and in a blur, that it took my mind several moments to recollect what had just happened before me.

I stared up, and looked into the eyes of the creature that had taken me. It’s venomous glare latched on and gawked deep into my eyes, the folds on its face, and the razor sharp teeth gleamed underneath the moonlit sky. It growled as it watched me like prey. How was it possible that this thing had managed to cross over the Anasazi symbols that I had etched on the ground?

The Wendigo was fast and I knew we were now a while away from the tent and the boys. I was utterly on my own in this one.

Backed into a corner, the Wendigo towered over me. Immediately, I reached for my knife concealed in my boot. I knew that weapons were useless against it, but I hoped that it would somehow slow it down before I thought of my next move. In one swift motion, the knife glided across the Wendigo’s arm, it hardly flinched before I shot aside and tried to make a run for it.

The action was useless as the Wendigo grabbed onto me and cast me aside as if I had weighed a feather. My back collided against the tree and I hissed in pain.

I reached for the gun in the waistband of my jeans, as I fired once, twice, and again, and again. It did nothing on the Wendigo, and it continued to stalk towards me. With its large hands it pushed aside the gun, immediately it wrapped his hand around my neck as I felt the air disppearing from my lungs. It hoisted me up, as I tried to claw its grip away from me. My vision began to blur, as I was trying my hardest to hold onto the sliver of life in me I had left.

With the small amount of strength, I managed to pull another knife from the breastpocket of my leather jacket. I plunged it into the Wendigo’s neck, pulling it out and then stabbing it repeatly. It was finally enough to irritate the thing, as it roared in annoyance.

Unexpectly, a shot emerged in the distance, followed by an orange and yellow ablaze. The Wendigo was caught off guard, and shrieked as it tried to conceal themself from the light. The hold over my neck had been released and I slumped to the ground, coughing violently as I tried to catch my breath.

I watched as Dean and Sam appeared, it wasn’t long before the Wendigo charged towards them. Just when Dean raised the flare gun, the Wendigo had knocked it out of his hand and cast him aside. Immediately, Sam raised the flamethrower gun and aimed it towards the Wendigo, but within seconds the Wendigo had pushed Sam down.

The Wendigo stalked towards Dean as it towered over him, he lowered himself down onto the ground, and growled. His razor sharp teeth exposed as he was about devour Dean.

Dean stabbed the Wendigo in the eye, which caused it to stagger backwards, as Dean immediately rolled over to the side.

I crawled over towards the flamethrower, as I reached for it and pushed myself onto standing. “Swallow this, asshole.” I said, as I pressed down onto the trigger, and it sent a fiery ablaze straight towards the Wendigo as it ignited, followed by the screeching sounds of pain as we watched it burn.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

After I had taken a shower, immediately feeling like a brand new person, I put on a tight white tank top that read Hooters a gag gift from my friends one Christmas, and a pair of black short shorts. I stalked out into the living room. I watched as Dean packed up his belongings, and all of a sudden, a sense of melonchony washed over me.

Dean zipped up his duffel bag and cleared his throat as our gaze met. “Sam’s just out getting some stuff, but once he’s back we’ll be out of your hair.”

“So you’re just going to leave like that again, huh?” I hissed.

Dean shook his head and pressed down onto his temples. “Please, don’t-”

“Listen, Dean. I’m not the kinda girl that dreams of the perfect white wedding, and wants to fucking slow dance to Lady in Red. But four years! I don’t hear from you in all that time. I thought you were dead!” I argued.

Dean exhaled, and closed his eyes. “I can’t-” he began, and then paused.

“Fine. Go!” I snapped, as I stepped towards him and pushed him.

“Come on, don’t-” he said.

I shoved him again hard. His jaw clenched, and he grabbed a hold of my wrists. Our gazes locked, and my breathing quickened. Dean’s hand reached up and his fingers became knotted in my hair. He tugged at it, as he closed the gap between us, his lips crashed down onto mine. My lips parted as his tongue slipped inside. I felt the urgency behind his kiss, and I pushed him against the wall. He groaned, but he didn’t seem to care. We continued to kiss, but it wasn’t long before his hands reached down to my hips and turned me around, my body slammed against the wall. He hoisted me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist, as we continued to make out. My fingers found its way in his hair as I pulled onto it hard. He grunted, and I felt the bulge forming in his pants.

He placed me down, as his hand slithered towards my crotch. With his other hand he pulled my hair and drew back. “Is this what you want?” He said, and I felt his hot breath caress my skin.

I nodded.

“Say it.” He ordered.

“Yes.”

Dean’s hand found its way behind my underwear, almost immediately I felt two fingers inserted into me. I gasped, and wrapped my arms around his neck. His fingers went in and out, then out and in again, as I grew wetter. I threw my head back and bit down on my lower lip.

His fingers continued to thrust into me, as my nails dug into the back of his neck, plunging them deep into his skin. I quivered, and moaned louder, just then Dean removed his fingers from me.

“You don’t get to come just yet.” He whispered in my ear.

He then carried me to the bedroom, and  threw me down onto the mattress, before he climbed on top of me. Immediately, my hands reached up to him as I grabbed onto the ends of his shirt and ripped it open, revealing his chest. It was then that I noticed the tattoo on his left side of his chest, which was new to me. My hands caressed his broad shoulders, before they drifted down to his muscular biceps.

I felt Dean’s hands on my body, as he tugged at my top, hoisting it up. His hands cupped my breasts as he lowered himself down, his wet tongue caressed against my now hardened nipples and I moaned, and felt a wetness down between my legs.

I sat up and my fingers hooked into the waistband of his jeans, hurriedly, I unbuckled his belt and undid his pants, as I stroked his bulge, before I pulled down his briefs. My hand gently gripped around his length, as I stared up at him through my eyelashes, before I lowered my mouth onto his cock. My tongue glided across the head of his cock, and then I took it all in, and tasted him. I heard Dean moan, as I felt his fingers running through my hair as he pushed my head deeper down into him. He thrusted into me, as I allowed him to fuck my mouth.

He pulled away and raised his hand towards my face, as his tumb grazed over my mouth and he smirked, knowing that my lips were stained with his precum.

Dean kicked away his pants, as he climbed onto the bed, he grabbed me by my shoulders and spun me around, pushing his body into my back, as his hand cupped at my throat and pressed down. Enough for me to feel his force but not hard enough that I was actually choking, and gasping for air.

And then I felt him enter me, his thick and long cock inside of me as I moaned, almost immediately he began to thrust into me, fast and hard. I quivered, and my hand slithered down my body as I was about to touch my clit. Suddenly, Dean grabbed my hand and pulled it away.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” He said, as he took both of my hands behind my back, holding down onto it.

I squirmed beneath his touch, as his other hand was draped across my chest holding me up, knowing that at this moment I belonged to him.

Dean continued to thrust into me hard, as he buried his face into my neck, I heard his low and deep grunts, as I called out his name in pleasure, which seemed to excite him, as I felt him thrusting harder and harder into me, my tits bounced up and down, as Dean’s hand grabbed down onto my breasts, squeezing onto them, hard.

I felt myself wanting to come, as my body quivered. Dean moaned in pleasure, and I knew he was nearing his release.

“It’s okay, shoot your load in me.” I said in a breathless voice.

Dean released the grip on my hands, as I reached up towards him and pulled his face close to mine, my fingers grazed along the stubble on his jawline and my lips found his. My lips parted and he stuck his tongue down my mouth.

Dean grunted as he released into me, and I felt his cum pumped into me. He heaved, and I tried to catch my breath, as he pulled out. I slumped down onto the bed, as did he, and we laid beside each other gazing up at the ceiling.

Once, Dean and I had cleaned ourselves up. I walked him towards the front door, we paused by the threshold, as Sam sat in the Impala in the distance.

Dean turned towards me.

“So,” I said awkwardly. “I’m sorry I was too hard on you earlier, I get it… your line of work, attachments are-” I paused.

Dean shook his head. “You had every right to be mad.”

“Still, I’m sorry for punching you in the face,” I said and smirked, “and for shoving you earlier.”

“I sorta deserved it… plus that was some sweet lovin’” He said, and laughed, then cleared his throat, “well, let’s just say when I’m on the road, I’ll find some time to call, and check in. And if I’m ever in town… this will be a stop, and you can do that thing you did on that pole.” Dean said, and raised his eyebrow.

I smiled, and playfully slapped him across the arm. “I wouldn’t protest to that.”

Dean towered over me, as I tiptoed to kiss him on the lips. He lowered himself down, as his lips found mine, we had lost track of how long we had been making out, and no doubt that Sam was probably growing irritated.

We finally pulled apart, as I watched Dean turn on his heels, and step into the Impala as I watched him drive away into the distance.

[parachutingkitten]

Okay, this has been bothering me, and I'm gonna go into it, cuz I feel like being mad that the fandom didn't get better is friggin valid, so imma get negative here at some serious missed potential, if that's not your jam, 100% get it, please scroll past.

We have a season with 20 episodes, each of which are 20 minutes long. That is an unprecedented amount of time for a ninjago season- I would argue maybe too much time, but that's not what we're getting into here. Even just the first half is the length of your standard ninjago season back in the day. There is no excuse for not taking your time with ideas that deserve time. You've got time. You've got too much time.

If you're gonna do a mystical mind prison that traps you in your worst fears, you gotta do it! You can't do this wimpy half commit thing you're doing here. What is this cop out that's like three minutes long? This is a top tier trope! Loads of stories do this- for a good reason, it's a great way to get lots of new insight into your characters, not to mention have fun with environments, hypotheticals, bend logic, and do some creative filmmaking. And here you are, inventing a whole weird fictional animal to facilitate your nightmare state, and it legitimately takes up so little screen time that it hurts! What? Did you not have enough to say about your characters to fill out a full subplot? You thinking that surface level about things? Or was the basketball tournament fake out with the dragons so important to the story that you couldn't cut it out for some character introspection?

It's so short and pointless, it doesn't functionally do anything except tell us very directly "Here's what this character fears, and will have to get past this season!" No looking into why or making some progress/losing progress on the issue in the dream state. We don't even get to see everyone's visions, let alone see any interconnectivity between them. It's just such a waste of a classically exciting set up. And why on earth would you place this concept at the beginning of the season? Put it at the turning point man! That's what this scenario is made for! Literalizing characters overcoming mental challenges so that it's interesting to watch! Using the nightmare dream sphere for exposition in the most boring possible version of the trope is just dumbfounding.

I mean seriously? The black void? That's all you've got? You gonna go the Cars 2 route and set our supposedly deep nightmare sequence in a black void? No symbolism to the void even? No distorting of visuals within the void? Nothing? Can you get any more basic? Did you really put that little creativity into this? Like, the whole point of the nightmare dreamscape is to get creative! So much symbolism and messaging that you can easily tie into things! the possibilities are literally endless! But yeah, I guess Arin running in place is pretty meaningful too, I'm sure it took you a while to come up with something so profound.

There's a reason this story beat usually makes up at least half the plot of any given episode it's in! There's so much room to explore. The potential for crosscutting between nightmares is so high, drawing parallels between characters. Maybe they're all interconnected, and the mentally strongest of the team breaks free to help the others in their nightmares. Maybe it's a revelation point for the rest of the team as they see a dark past of another character they didn't know about. Or maybe it's just the audience who gets new insight into a sheltered corner of a character's mind, or a way to reveal to them a dark secret someone is hiding. You can also have fun subverting expectations, maybe one of the nightmares is just objectively pretty funny. And, the best thing about any dream environment you're creating, you can have the characters get involved in insanely creative fights and action scenes where they literally beat up their mental roadblocks with cool looking and symbolically important powers or tools.

Like, I know the fandom is losing their mind over this scene because 'omg Nya's gonna be so sad cuz of the memory loss(that hasn't even been revealed in narrative yet, so the irony doesn't even really work)' but I just need you to understand that the full fledged angst, character growth, and introspection y'all are speculating could have theoretically happened in Kai's plot is what we could have had for everyone. For a full episode. Like it deserved to be. And it would have been really cool, and really satisfying, and beautifully and symbolically stunning, because countless other people have done it, it's honestly not too difficult. Stop freaking out like they did a good job with this- they didn't do a good job with this. They couldn't even bother to give everyone a vision, they just gave up on the concept halfway through.

Not to mention how accessible and valuable this type of storytelling is to kids! Literalizing some of the big abstract issues these characters are supposedly battling this season would be a great way to get kids to grasp these ideas, but instead it's literally like two and a half minutes of slightly ominous stuff to bate us before we move on.

Stop teasing us with interesting stuff and then not actually following through! This is not how you do storytelling!

[seeminglyranch87]

Taylor & Travis Timeline

September 2023 - part 2

September 18 - Sports commentator, Rich Eisen, posts a video to instagram of him making Taylor Swift song references during Travis' training (x). “Look what you made me do, @killatrav.” 

"The injury, one would think is delicate. He's been able to shake it off"

Travis replies

"Well played Rich... Well played 👏🏻😂"

September 19 - Taylor dine at Via Carota Italian Restaurant, NYC with Sophie Turner and friends (x). A diner shares her observations (x). Did Taylor receive a text from Travis? They later moved on to Temple Bar , NYC

Travis Kelce speaks with Kristen Cavallari on her podcast Let's Be Honest where they talk dating. Travis says he is not interested dating someone "high maintenance" but the "initial spark is always fun" and looking for a partner "based on how kind hearted and sweet like my mother is" and they need to "have some sweetness to you" (x)

“To really dive into a relationship with somebody I feel like it’s going to take at least, I don’t know, it’s going to take some time,” Kelce said. “It’s not going to be immediate because, the stuff I’ve been through, just in my past, I feel like you really gotta know somebody to take that step and really be committed and be in full-throttle. I can’t just meet somebody and just automatically think that forever is just a day away … I think it takes quite a bit of time for somebody to really get to know somebody and really get to find that affection and love for them.” When asked if feels any sort of pressure about settling down, Kelce said he is “living my life” and is hopeful that when the time comes, everything falls into place.  “I like to believe that all of that stuff will come genuine and natural and I won’t have to think about getting into that part of my life ahead of time, the stars will align, I guess,” he said.

September 20 - Jason Kelce, on the WIP morning show, is asked about the Taylor and Travis rumours, and he responds

"Its hard to answer because I don't really know a lot about what's happening in Travis' love life... but having said that, I think he's doing great and I think its all 100% true, and i hope this thing goes a mile - no I'm joking, I don't know what's happening."

(x 0:30)

September 21 - Travis, on the Pat McAfee show, says he thought it was "hilarious" how much traction the situation had, saying

“I threw the ball in her court... I told her I’ve seen you rock the stage in Arrowhead, you might have to come see me rock a stage in Arrowhead and see which one is a little more lit. We’ll see what happens in the near future”

So at this point it's obvious that arrangements had been made for Taylor to attend Travis' next game at Arrowhead Stadium, on Sept 24th. (x)

The Messenger publishes an article (x) Aol (x)

"She and Travis have hung out twice, and it's nothing serious. She thinks he is very charming, and they have been texting this last week," the insider exclusively tells The Messenger. "He is a little embarrassed at how much attention they are getting, but he has told her he would love to continue seeing her. Furthermore, the insider said the two are “seeing where things go.”

On Twitter:

September 22 - At his Kelce Car Jam (x), Travis is seen wearing a 'Vigilante Sh*t' friendship bracelet, given to him by a swiftie at the event (x)

September 24 - Chiefs v Chicago Bears, Arrowhead Stadium, Kansas City. The Chiefs defeat the Bears 41 - 10.

The day Taylor and Travis broke the internet. Taylor enters Arrowhead Stadium with Travis’ friends (x) Taylor is seen with Travis' mum, Donna, in Travis' suite at Arrowhead Stadium. During the game, Travis gets a touchdown and Taylor reaction goes viral, as she's seen hi-5ing, chest bumping, yelling and banging on the glass. Notably, her reaction receives more airtime than the actual plays of the match and it makes international news. After the game, Taylor and Travis drive off in his convertible and have dinner together at the Prime Social Rooftop. After this, the two reportedly celebrate with the team and leave the venue between 1am and 2am. (x seemingly ranch origins)

Taylor & Travis leave Arrowhead stadium together after the game (x)

Travis & Taylor drive off together in a convertible - no security in sight (x)

Travis and Taylor were seen arriving at 8:45pm to Prime Social, KC and drinking together & showing lots PDA according to others present at the invite only occasion (x)

TMZ posts a photo of Taylor and Travis after the game (x).

Travis and Taylor were seen arriving at 8:45pm and showing lots PDA according to others present at the invite only occasion (x)

September 25 - Details come out about Taylor and Travis' night after the game. A source tells ET (x) (x)

"Travis bought out the restaurant for his family and team. Taylor arrived, wearing a denim dress, and was seen snacking, having some cocktails and dancing alongside Travis. The two were very affectionate with one another but kept things fun and lighthearted. Travis' teammates also showed up to the after-party, as well as his mom and dad, Donna and Ed. The party lasted until 2 a.m."

In another article ET report (x)

A source confirms to ET that the pair had spent some time together prior to their public debut at Sunday's game, telling ET, "Travis and Taylor have a lot in common and they are having a great time getting to know each other. They have similar values. She likes that he pursued her and it has been easy and exciting for both of them." Having just wrapped the first leg of her Eras World Tour, the source adds, "Taylor is enjoying some time off from touring and it’s been fun hanging out with Travis during this break. Taylor wants a guy that’s into his career, does his own thing, but is also supportive and understands her, and Travis fits those qualities."

Coach Reid of the KC Chiefs, when asked about Taylor Swift, jokingly says (x 5:57)

"I set them up."

New England Patriots head coach Bill Belichick, a noted Swift fan who attended the Eras Tour at Gillette Stadium said (x) (x)

"Travis Kelce has had a lot of big catches in his career, this would be the biggest."

In the days following September 24th, the term 'the Taylor Swift effect' is used frequently to describe the unique impact Taylor has on culture, media, and football in particular. (x) (x) The official NFL tiktok and twitter pages change their name and image to reference Taylor's appearance at the game, also tweeting a video of the two of them with the caption "two goats".

September 26 - Taylor is seen leaving Kansas City in her plane "2 days after attending Travis Kelce's Chiefs game" (x)

People publishes an article (x)

"They're just hanging out, and there's no pressure," a source tells People after Swift attended the Kansas City Chiefs' game on Sunday

The source says the pair are still in the "super, super early days" of getting to know one another.

"They're having fun," adds the insider, noting that Swift and Kelce had met prior to her attendance at the game. "This was Taylor's first time meeting his mom and dad, and everyone was enjoying themselves. She was super chill and low-key hanging out with his friends and family."

September 27 - Ep55 S2 of the New Heights podcast airs. Travis and Jason mention that the podcast has reached 1 million followers on youtube (a big jump from the 800k followers they had the week prior). Travis addresses all the excitement around Taylor attending the game and expresses his gratitude that she was there, whilst still respecting Taylor's privacy. Jason fills Travis in on the "400% increase" in Travis Kelce jersey sales (x) (x)

Jason Kelce goes on the 94WIP Morning Show and responds to the media frenzy around Taylor attending Travis' game, saying (x)

"My reaction was exactly... this is exactly what I think is going to happen. She's going to go to the game and the world is going to lose their g*ddamn mind"

In response to another question about the nature of Taylor and Travis' relationship, Jason says (x)

"I would say with this one, it definitely seems like he is going above and beyond to be a gentleman."

Heinz debut a 'Ketchup and Seemingly Ranch' flavour after Taylor inspired the viral tweet with her choice of game snack. (x) (x) (x) Vogue also mention 'seemingly ranch' (x)

September 28 - Mark Cuban on First Take says Taylor should break up with Travis and date one of the Dallas Mavericks. Travis tweets a reply (x)

i.e. let me join the Mavericks for 10 days and she will be dating one of your players... he can and will fight

Jordan Schultz, NFL insider, says that Taylor plans to attend the Chiefs vs Jets game (at Metlife Stadium on October 1) to watch Travis play for the second time. (x) (x)

A video and photo is published by the Daily Mail of Taylor from September 24. She is seen with Travis' friends and family as they leave his house and head to the Chiefs game. The footage appears to be taken from a neighbours doorbell camera, hence due to its intrusive nature I will not be posting it.

September 30 - A tweet is posted stating that Donna, Travis' mum, confirmed "two weeks ago" that Travis and Taylor were dating. Presumably the Eagles vs Vikings game on September 14 (x)

Taylor is seen attending Inez Reynolds' birthday party with Blake and Ryan

Travis was rumoured to have visited Taylor at her NYC apartment this afternoon (x). Travis was seen returning to his hotel being dropped off by Taylor's security (x)

Later that day, Taylor went out for a girls night with Blake, Sophie, Melanie, Brittany, Ashley, Robyn Lively, and others at Emilio’s Ballato Italian restaurant in NYC (x) (x)

Travis went out for dinner with his team to Meduza Mediterrania. He is photographed returning to the team's hotel by 11pm (their curfew)

Go to previous update -> September 2023 Part 1

Go to next update -> October 2023 Part 1

Return to the timeline

[dread-pirate-mumbles]

more sea of stars thoughts (less shitposty this time, maybe??)

spoilers for true ending below

First: what the fuck was Romaya doing with Moraine's staff in that one end credits cut scene??? she better not have been trying to pull a Duke thing again but with Moraine (sometime in the future, after he's passed)

Additionally: i absolutely adored pissing Romaya off throughout the entire game. I really hope B'st got to go back and talk with her about whatever he was gonna say after the second fight.

Second: Valere and Zale have to come back for Garl's bday every year, but I'm guessing keeping track of time while on patrol across the various worlds is Difficult, so I like to think that they tracked down Resh'an and asked him to set up a yearly reminder for them. I like to think that Resh'an has a connection to all of the Solstice Warriors (which is how he finds them once they are born), so he can find Valere and Zale wherever they are, and obviously time is His Thing

Third: (and keep in mind im just a Baby in the lore rn, just limited to in-game stuff)- I think that Aephorul made the Catalyst to try and remove his and Resh'an's souls from their bodies. I think the immortality potion has tied their souls to their bodies thus preventing their souls from passing on, and I think Aephorul made the Catalyst to either 1) remove their souls from their bodies and finally die together; or 2) put their souls into new bodies that would not be subject to the curse of immortality in the way that their original ones were

I also think the World Eaters were initially designed with the same end goal of death for Aephorul and Resh'an combined- something that can destroy the very fabric of time would likely be strong enough to break their immortality. However, Dwellers were not strong enough to do so, and there was no guarantee that a world eater would be strong enough either (nor was there anyone Aephorul could use as a test subject), so Aephorul continued to try and make them more and more powerful, and perhaps even experimented on some people to try and mimic immortality to see what would happen

I've also wondered about the pronounciation of Aephorul, because if you read it as "Aye-For-Rule", it (if you squint with your ears) kind of sounds like "All For You", which. fits with this idea of Aephorul doing this initially *for* him and Resh'an.

Fourth: I really want to write a post-canon fic where Garl goes back with Serai and B'st to their world, to help build things back up and restore hope. The dinner at the Golden Pelican and the comment when you send Garl to the hot spring (where he's like. "I gotta tell Serai something important") have inspired a *little* bit of a Garl/Serai shipper in me. I'd also want to include what the Dumbass Immortal Gays are up to, too, because I really love their dynamic, and I'd love to Literally Fucking Kill Them For Good. I really, really want Resh'an to like. Talk with Garl, maybe Valere/Zale, about his failings and his mistakes. He's just a human, still, after all, and he has basically no one else to talk to about his Bad Life Choices

Anyway- Garl goes between homeworld and Serai's world on the Vespertine, but he always makes sure to be in mooncradle on time for his birthday. (side note- I wonder if he made jam from the sap of the willow on the thought that it would like. make zale and valere more powerful?? that seems like a him thing to do)

Fifth (aka assorted plot holes or complaints):

-Why did we never see the Dweller of Strife or the Acolytes again? I thought maybe the idea was that they became the World Eater at the end, but there's not like. a lot of game details pointing to that.

-How did Serai end up in our world anyway? Did she teleport based off of information about the home world (how would she get it? how far can she teleport? how can she teleport away the *top of a fucking mountain*??)? She couldn't have gotten information from Resh'an, since he didn't know about the Great Eagle thing, so maybe she stole info from The Fleshmancer/his subordinates? Maybe this is related to the Queen that Was- maybe the queen worked with the fleshmancer, and Serai took over her house and thus information when the Queen left??

-How did Serai get her powers? Was she an experiment from the Catalyst, or was it something she pursued on her own? Also, *please* tell me the rest of her crew who knew the fuck she actually was, she was so obvious

-I'm assuming the academy is no longer needed, with new guardian gods, no need for new solstice warriors for this realm, but that means Moraine is the only solstice warrior on both home world and serai's world. I feel bad for him cause he very obviously suffered from the loss of so many fellow warriors due to strife (and took it out on brugaves and erlina, unfortunately), so I wonder if he feels lonely about it sometimes

[electricopolis-net]

S03E02: Sparker Reborn (Part 2)

2. The Electric Festival

"It'll be great," Bob gushed, his eyes sparkling. "I really appreciate all your help, you guys."

"Aw, it's no problem!" Margie laughed. The three of them--Bob, Margie and Jam--were sitting in Jam's studio, sharing some celebratory drinks. "I'm just glad you don't hate me anymore."

"I never hated you," Bob sighed. "I was just...hating myself, mostly. I just feel terrible for everything I've done..."

"You apologized enough, you don't have to do it again," Jam said, smiling a rare smile. "But I'm with Margie here. It's good to see you back to your old self, Bob."

"In more ways than one." Margie closed her notebook, sighing. "To be honest, I'm glad you're gonna leave the company. It feels more and more like Dad is...I'm not sure. But something seems to be making him really testy, lately. I have the feeling something bad is going to happen."

"I'm just lucky he gave me permission to put on the Electric Festival in the first place. I really thought he wasn't going to." Bob took a sip from a glass he was holding, then placed it back on the nearby coffee table. "He didn't seem all that happy to see me."

"Well, you did kind of...cause a headache for him," Jam said through nervously gritted teeth. "With the whole attempted murder thing."

"Gee, you know, I feel just awful about that," Bob lamented, shaking his head. "That's part of why I wanna do this. Pay my debts, you know. This city's been good to me. Better than it has any right to be. So I wanna give something back, instead of just taking."

Jam tilted his head. "You know, I'm kind of impressed," he remarked. "I didn't think you'd ever be so...introspective about this."

"Well, it's the start of a whole new me!" Bob exclaimed, putting a hand over his heart. "No more exploitation. From now on, I'm going to do the best I can to change Electricopolis!"

"Well, you might have a hard time with that," Margie offered. "The city's been around a long time, and so has Top Tier. I'd be surprised if you were able to make a dent in the television network market share in your first year."

"I know. But it's better than just sitting around feeling sorry for myself. And besides," Bob said, "isn't it better to try than not to try?"

Margie lifted up her drink. "Hear, hear."

Jam nodded. "Well, you know we've got your back. To be honest, I'm surprised I didn't come up with the idea myself," he remarked. "A festival for the arts and crafts scene in Electricopolis is a really cool idea."

"I'd be lying if I said I weren't thinking of you when I came up with it," Bob laughed. "I was like, 'What would Jam do in this kind of situation?'"

"Really?" Jam blinked behind his glasses. "I'm surprised. I guess all my lecturing really did get through your skull."

The three of them laughed, together.

---

"We'll aim for the end of the year, okay?" Bob suggested. "That should give us more than enough time to get the word out about the Festival and the Electric Park."

"Sounds good," Margie said. "I'll fund it and arrange the spaces for the artists' booths."

"I'll liaison with the artists and help spread the word," Jam offered. "I think you're gonna have a hell of a turnout."

"And I'll present!" Bob said. "And manage. And I have a few designs for some of the floats already," he continued, "and I have a few artists I'm reaching out to for the rest..."

"Careful," Jam said gently yet sternly. "You don't want to spread yourself too thin. You gotta learn to moderate yourself, instead of doing an all-or-nothing kind of thing."

Bob sighed. "You're right. I'm just feeling so..." He shook his hands out, as if drying them. "So energized! Honestly, I never imagined I could get this kind of jolt from anything other than frying my brains out!"

The morning news--well, what passed for morning in Electricopolis--interviewed Bob near the end of the year. Wrapped up in a scarf and hat, Bob gestured to some of the artisans' booths as he talked into the microphone.

"We have folks from every corner of the city," he said loudly, talking over the din of the crowd. "Over here are some carpenters from down on 1-2, best work you've ever seen! And of course, we have goldsmiths from right here in the top tier, too. I wanted to arrange it so that it wasn't just folks from their own parts of the town clumped up together. This way, everyone can mingle and maybe learn something new about each other."

"That's very ambitious," said the anchor. "So when can we attend the Electric Festival?"

"It'll be held right before the New Year!" Bob explained. "From December 29th to the 31st. We're going to kick it off with a pop-up light show with all kinds of floats and machines!"

"Wow!" said the other presenter, oohing and aahing. "An Electric Park, is that right?"

"That's right," Bob responded, nodding and grinning. "It'll be a spectacle like nobody in Electricopolis has ever seen!"

---

The Electric Festival was shaping up to be a roaring success. Bob, Margie and Jam worked around the clock to process and set up every artisan and craftsperson who wanted a space, and the sheer breadth and depth of the works provided was stunning, especially to Bob, who, until he met Alice Lang, never met a piece of art he felt he actually understood. Paintings, embroidery, sculptures, even seemingly ordinary pieces like ironwork chairs and tables seemed to contain a startling new form of life. It was as if he had never actually thought about the way the world worked before. In turn, that seemed to ignite some creative part of his brain, something he hadn't truly exercised since he had been a young performer on the streets of the top tier.

He took a meticulous, almost obsessive interest in the design and operation of the Electric Park. And, Bob Sparker still being Bob Sparker, too much was never enough: more bulbs, more neon, more moving joints and multicolored lights began to take shape on the floats, bit by bit by bit.

"I dunno if the dragon is going to work out," Margie said, squinting up at the still-in-progress machine. "That whole ‘breathing sparks' thing might be kind of, you know, a fire hazard?"

"A fire hazard? I guess you're right," Bob sighed. "I guess we could go with something else. Maybe an arrangement of bulbs that change color?"

"We're already using over 500,000 bulbs," Jam pointed out. "How about you go in a different direction? We have a ton of leftover fabric. Why not use some of the reds and yellows, cut ‘em up, put a fan in the head of the dragon."

"Hey, that's great!" Bob exclaimed, looping an arm around Jam's shoulders and giving him an enthusiastic side-hug. "See, this is going to be incredible!"

"Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves," Jam stammered, adjusting his glasses. "There's still something we haven't decided on yet."

"What's that?"

"How are we actually going to power all these machines?"

"Oh, Mr. King signed off on all that a while ago," Bob said, waving a hand. "I figured we would just plug ‘em in. I warned him it would be a little heavy on the power bill."

Margie looked over at him. Her brow seemed to furrow for a moment, and then she shrugged. "Well, if Dad says it's okay, I guess it's okay."

Bob looked in the mirror, turning his face this way and that. There were a few new lines there, a few new wrinkles that brought a slightly craggy quality to his face; but more than that, there was a glow, a warmth that bloomed underneath the skin. He smiled.

There was a polite knock at his door. "Hey, Margie just called," Jam said politely. "She's been called away by her dad for some reason or another. She says she'll meet up with us once it's taken care of. You wanna get going?"

"Sure, sure." Bob turned away from the mirror and finished tying his necktie. It was a muted green satin tie, bought for him by his mother when he had first signed on with Zap! Entertainment. He always wore it when he was nervous--he considered it a good luck charm. "I'll be done in just a second."

He smoothed it down against his chest, admiring himself in the mirror. "All right," he whispered to his reflection. "It's showtime."

---

"Ladies and gentlemen," Bob pronounced, "thank you for coming out in this cold weather! Before we start, I just want to say a couple words about the Electric Festival..."

He nodded over to his companion. "It wouldn't have been possible without this guy! Jam arranged contact with almost all the vendors and artisans here at the Festival. A big round of applause, ladies and gents!"

The crowd applauded vigorously. Jam bowed his head down, trying to hide a smile.

"I'd also like to thank Margaret King for funding to put on the Festival in the first place," Bob continued. "She couldn't be here right away, sadly, but I'm sure she'll turn up. And now, without further ado, let's kick this thing off!"

Bob tucked the microphone under his arm and knelt down to grab the two large electrical plugs--one male, one female--that lay on the ground in front of him. "Enjoy the Electric Festival!" he exclaimed, and shoved the plugs together.

The Electric Park lit up in a million different lights, drawing a gasp and astonished applause from the crowd. The floats began to move back and forth, the colored fabric waving. Bob and Jam exchanged relieved grins.

"I guess that's that," Jam sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "A job well done, right?"

"That's right," Bob agreed, clapping him on the shoulder with his free hand. "A job well--"

The lights flickered, and then there was a vmmm sound as the floats powered down and dimmed completely. There was a startled silence among the crowd.

Bob pulled the plugs apart. He pushed them back together. Again. Nothing. He fumbled with the microphone, bringing it back up to his face. "One second, folks," he stammered. "I'm just as confused as you are."

Jam tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned. "My cell phone's got no reception,"he said. "I think the cell towers went dark too."

"The cell towers? Then the whole city must have lost power," Bob replied. Sure enough, in the distance, the bright lights of the storefronts were going black.

There was a loud murmur that rippled through the crowd. "What is this?"asked someone near the front. "Is this part of the festival?"

Bob motioned for them to settle down. "It looks like there's been a power outage," he explained. "It's not just us. I'm sure if we all stay calm--"

He was cut off by the wail of sirens. A crowd of police cars pulled up to the entrance to the park. A megaphone crackled. "Bob Sparker?" announced one of the cops through the megaphone. "We'd like you to come with us."

[punsmaster69]

26/OCT/20XX

"Papyrus, sit still! I'm gonna accidentally poke your eye out! ..Wait."

"I WOULD NOT FEEL IT IF YOU POKED MY EYE SOCKET."

"Yeah, I guess that's not a worry with you."

"...."

"But, really, stop moving! I'm gonna mess it up!"

paps has never been the kind of person who's able to be still for very long, and getting his face painted hasn't been any exception.

he really only sits still when focused on something, so i glanced around for anything i could hand him to keep his hands busy.

'a book?

maybe a-'

that train of thought was interrupted by an

"Oops."

followed by a paint sponge dropping into my eye socket.

"...Sans. I dropped the sponge in your eye."

"yeah. i can t-"

frisk started to jam their hand inside, trying to get it out.

"kid-"

"stop-"

"Got it."

"....."

"You good?"

"don't-"

"don't do that ever again."

"Sorry. Did it hurt?"

"kinda just intrusive."

"you gotta ask next time before you start shovin' your hands in someone's skull, ok?"

"Sorry."

"..what're you painting so close to my eye, anyway?"

"You'll see."

they resumed painting with a concentrated look on their face.

"Papyrus."

"YES?"

"If you don't stop moving,"

undyne slapped her hand on his shoulder.

"I'm going to buckle you in place."

"hey, no buckling my brother to chairs."

"besides, there's a better solution than that."

"hold on a moment, kiddo. i'll be right back."

yep, right where they always are.

a neat arrangement of solved puzzle cubes in different colors and patterns sits proudly displayed on papyrus' desk.

i picked one and headed back downstairs.

"What did you get?"

"YES, WH-"

"HEY??"

"WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO MY BEAUTIFUL DISPLAY, GREATLY PRESENTING MY OWN PUZZLING APTITUDE?!"

papyrus took the scrambled cube from me, and began flipping the sides immediately.

seemed to work, because i didn't hear undyne tell him off even once after that.

——

"Aaaaaannndddd... done!"

"Wait, close your eyes again."

"ok."

frisk added a little more above my eye.

"NOW done."

"cool. what is it?"

frisk flipped a little makeup mirror to face me.

"whoa."

"Whoa?"

they'd painted blue butterfly wings around my eye sockets. frisk's concentrated face while painting made a lot more sense now.

"honestly?"

"i fully expected to be a clown."

"I thought about it, but that's too obvious."

"Plus, I wanted to actually try painting something good."

"Whoa. That's cool."

frisk looked proud of their handiwork.

"done with papyrus' yet?"

"Yeah. Awesome, right?!"

undyne took the mirror from frisk and aimed it at paps.

"OOH!"

"...(WHAT IS IT?)"

"(Fire.)"

"COOL!!"

frisk made a face.

"Do you guys not know any adjectives other than 'cool'?"

"OF COURSE I DO!! I ALSO KNOW 'SUPERCALIFRAGILISTICEXPIALIDOCIOUS'!!!"

with a confused look, undyne turned to me.

"Is that even a real word??"

"yep."

"OF COURSE IT IS. HE TAUGHT IT TO ME, AND SANS KNOWS LOTS OF BIG WORDS!!"

"What does that mean, anyway?"

"IT'S USED TO DESCRIBE SOMETHING THAT IS VERY COOL!!"

"All those letters just to say 'cool' again????"

"NO, IT-

"...WAIT, YOU'RE RIGHT. THAT IS JUST 'COOL' AGAIN BUT WITH THIRTY EXTRA LETTERS."

"We GOTTA learn some new ways to describe things."

"Sans! What's another word for 'cool'?"

"magnificent?"

"No."

"stupendous?"

"No!"

"extraordinary?"

"No."

"splendiferous?"

"Why are they all so long?!"

frisk held up their phone.

"Hold on, Toriel wants to see the face paint. Pose!"

paps and undyne put up matching peace signs automatically.

"CAN WE SEE THE PICTURE?"

"Yeah, here."

"......"

"cool."

frisk slapped their palm to their forehead.

——

he was at it for the rest of the night, but papyrus did re-solve his puzzle cube.

i think i'll get him another one soon.

[oh-cramity-its-amity]

You have a real niche taste in music

Ah- I don't know if I would call it niche per say but rather extremely refined and self curated. A lot of it amounts to me exploring and trying to constantly expand my knowledge on artists I might not know but have heard in passing. We are fortunate to exist in the age where something like Spotify exists and is widly accessible. A way that I look for artists is mainly through vinyl hauls on YouTube, I pull up Spotify in a different tab on my phone, and whenever an album looks even remotely intriguing or like it sounds of the genres I like, I add it to the library for later.

You gotta love an album a lot if your gonna spend money on a new vinyl; unfortunately the prices are godawful to buy multiple albums at one time but seeing someone talk about their vinyl collection and haul is something that I go to for recommendations. Album artwork is a good factor too! If it looks cool then why not, Spotify being so accessible makes the barrier of entry to consume an album almost without effort. If you listen to the album later and its not your jam then it too is a learning experience. Maybe that album didnt register for you at that time too, theres some albums I come back to months after a first listen that click and I enjoy. You gotta really have an open mind and not be afraid to discover something different thats out of your comfort realm. Its extremely fun for me, especially too when a friend or someone in passing mentions an album or song. Chances are even if I'm not engaging with you at the time and I see the post I'll pull my Spotify up and add it to my library. I'm always interested in figuring out what there is that's out there.

Obviously you dont ever have to approach music this way, if you are someone who only wants to listen to one or two artists then thats cool!!! Music is subjective and its something your supposed to enjoy as a whole. If it makes you feel good and happy then thats what matters.

Too- I find that sometimes an artist wont always click and sometimes its just the album itself. Not all artists have good albums, you dont need to consume all of an artist's catalog to "be a fan" you can just like one album by them. That's some of what I do. I try an album, like it, move on. But the trick is to try to figure out your favorite genres as well and find artists that fit within them or people who like those artists but also additional artists.

So- Examples of this is I like Phoebe Bridgers, yeah? Well this girl I watched mentioned Radiohead - Which is kind of not toward the same genres at all but you get the point. She liked Radiohead so I decided "Well maybe I should try to see what this album sounds like" and at first Radiohead was HARD to get into. Super slow for my taste, but a different youtuber said that In Rainbows was her favorite album, so I tried that one. And guess what? It clicked. I love In Rainbows. Then I went back to Ok Computer and it made sense. You just gotta approach it all with an open mind and not be afraid of trying something you might not like in the end, in every case its always a learning experience to help you refine your taste better!!! Also albums too sometimes need relistening for you to get a better feel for them. I can go on and on about music but I will leave it here. My taste is niche if you say it is anon, but I just know what I like lol

[pumpkin-spike18]

✨Weekly Progress #32-33✨

It's been an emotionally tough two weeks. Much (if not all) of what I've been planning hasn't been going well ^^;;

Weekly Progress #32

Posted devlogs

Worked on Outlines

Finished Punk BL Part 1 Outline

Finished SFB sprite lineart

Concepted + outlined VF project

Wrote 2.1k+ words for VF

Sketched VF sprite

Weekly Progress #33

Wrote 2k+ words for VF

Finished 1 VF sprite

Flat colored other VF sprite 4/5 outfits

Finished Punk BL Part 2-3 outline skeleton

Designed 1/4 LIs for Buggy BL

Wrote 6k+ words for Punk BL

Finished Buggy BL outline skeleton

When 2024 started, I had some goals and plans for my devwork this year. I hoped to start developing commercial games. I didn't expect all of my plans to work, but I also didn't expect none of it to work the way I planned.

So while I said to myself, "Welp, that just means I gotta replan and make a new schedule for 2025!" it was still difficult for me to hype myself up for that.

I planned to join Velox Fabula 2 to cheer myself up, but despite writing over 4k words and completing a sprite... my willpower simply disappeared and I gave up completing the project.

I might finish it in the future, but the stars misaligned this time.

It is a Quick Transmigration, multi-lifetime story between two people. The story was planned to be vignettes of moments between the two characters, but I realized I wanted something more and the scope was already too big for a small jam like VF2.

Punk BL Game

That's not the title, I have no idea what the title will be. I hope an epiphany will hit me soon because idk how to tag my posts otherwise. Or I'll have to go back and edit a lot of posts.

It's a rather big and ambitious idea. This will be a turn based battle/hybrid VN with some dating sim elements. I wish I had a single word to describe it. Perhaps I'll have to do some more researching for similar games.

The story is about Silver, whose been ordered to defeat the gangsters who run Lucidus City. If he falls in love with one of his rivals, well, that'll depend on you...

(did I post this image before? I feel like I have, but I can't find it on my own blog LOL...)

The story is split into four parts (currently); writing for ith as come so naturally that I did 4k on Friday night. These are sketches for the main characters of the first part. The MC, Silver. The "love interests" (once again, I hesitate to call them so because they won't get traditional romance routes. I'm still unsure if they'll get actual romantic endings) for part 1 are: Drayton, Gordan (Danny), Caleb, and Evan.

Any guesses to who the yandere in this story will be.

(Just some expressions I picture him making throughout the story)

Buggy BL Game

The other untitled BL game I've been daydreaming about. Thanks to discussion with some friends, the basic concept is: a bunch of bugs get stuck in a death game, similar to the idea of Kodoku.

I only have the base outline and one of the LIs designs finished. Meet Butterfly, one of the more uncooperative love interests you get to meet in the death game.

Actually, all of the love interests are quite uncooperative...

I haven't finished developing the rules and stakes of the death game yet, but I know for a fact that variable control will be essential to this game. I have a bad feeling future!Pumpkin will be ambitious and try a system where who you let die early in the game will affect later trials of the game...

Other than that, I'll be finishing a few owed artworks this week before I dive into rescheduling my long term gamedev goals for 2025 and beyond.

[victorluvsalice]

Happy Birthday Nebby!

@nebbychan -- As per your suggestion of doing something with your Modern AU takes on Dan and Kiya from MediEvil (specifically "Maybe the two chatting at a museum about their favorite time periods (Dan can brag about his minor degree in Medieval Studies and Kiya can do the same with her Egyptology studies)"), here's the pair at a museum, specifically chatting about Medieval European and Ancient Egyptian weaponry! Because, to be honest, the first things that popped into my head when thinking about the prompt were these two posts on wacky polearms by prokopetz. XD Hope you enjoy!

--

“...and that one, right there? That’s a Bohemian Ear-Spoon.”

Kiya raised a suspicious eyebrow at him. “You are definitely making that one up.”

“Nope,” Dan told her with his biggest, toothiest grin. “Completely real. Check out the label.”

Kiya squinted at him, then turned her attention to the identification tag plastered to the case. A moment later, her eyes went wide. “What even,” she declared, standing up straight.

“I know!” Dan said, laughing. “And you know what? That thing is not nearly the weirdest polearm out there. I’ve seen one that looked like one of those fancy pointy spikes you see on top of churches with a blender attachment on the side.”

“Seriously? European weapons are bizarre,” was Kiya’s opinion on that. She glanced up at him. “So – did they tell you in uni why that one’s called an ‘Ear-Spoon’ of all things?”

“Oh, this is one of those weird ones where the original name doesn’t translate well to English,” Dan explained. “But most people think it’s ‘cause they call those two triangular bits forming the guard the ‘ears.’”

“Ah – well, that’s better than what I originally thought.”

Dan tilted his head. “Do I want to know?”

Kiya made a motion like she was jamming something into her ear while pulling a face. “I think you can guess.”

Dan grimaced, his very teeth seeming to flex with the motion. “Yeah...kind of prefer to avoid that kind of ear-spooning,” he said, absently brushing his bangs a little more over his eye patch.

Kiya winced. “Yeah, I – sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“No, no, it’s fine!” Dan assured her, holding up his hands with an awkward grin. “Shit happens, you know? It’s not a big deal or anything. I definitely don’t want it spoiling our date.”

“Me either.” Kiya took one of his hands, smiling warmly. “I’m having a really good time. I didn’t expect learning about the fifty million polearms Medieval Europe invented would be so interesting.”

Dan snorted. “Well, I gotta make sure someone other than me gets some use out of my minor,” he said, smile much more genuine now. “And it is pretty neat that they came up with so many different variations. You wouldn’t think there would be that many ways to change up ‘sharp pointy metal bit on stick.’” He regarded Kiya curiously. “You get anything like that with Ancient Egyptian weaponry?”

“Not really – Ancient Egypt honestly had something of a problem making any effective weapons until the New Kingdom period,” Kiya said, slipping into “curator” mode. “And even then, they mainly advanced because they’d been conquered by the Hyksos – foreign rulers who slipped into power while the main Egyptian dynasty was crumbling – and they were able to pilfer a lot of knowledge of arms off them before they drove them out.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Mainly, using bronze tips on their spears to help them hold an edge better and longer,” Kiya said with a little chuckle. “Though they also created the javelin in that time, and they used that to pretty great effect in their later campaigns. Honestly, though, my favorite Egyptian weapon from that time period is the Khopesh.”

“Oh?” Dan leaned in, intrigued. “What’s that? Guessing not a spear?”

“Nope – a large curved sword that looks something like a sickle,” Kiya told him, grinning. “Only with the sharp edge on the outside. Pharaohs from that time period are often depicted wielding it because it was known as a very dangerous and powerful weapon – one more than fit for a king.” She giggled. “And like your Ear-Spoon, the name might come from a body part – some scholars believe it was derived from the Egyptian word for ‘leg’ because it looks vaguely like a haunch of beef.”

Dan laughed. “That’s great!” He looked around the room. “You think they might have one of those here? I know they’ve got an Egyptian exhibit...”

Kiya linked her arm through his, face bright. “Let’s go and find out.”

--

Bohemian Ear-Spoon On Wikipedia

Ancient Egyptian Weapons: The Evolution of Warfare

Khopesh On Wikipedia

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

Hey!! You asked for ideas, I am here to provide having made it home in once piece! :)

Going to put it out there again... clipboard!bucktommy moving house. You know you gotta :D

Angsty one (with a happy ending) Buck loves kids, can't wait to be a father and is so in love with Tommy, who loves him back with everything he has. But he doesn't want kids, ever.

We have seen cat dad! Tommy but how about new cat dad Buck who calls Tommy in a panic because a kitten has just followed him all the way to his loft front door, attached itself to the leg of his jeans and won't let go. Buck, being Buck, does NOT want to hurt the little guy.

Last one for now....Buck is a big guy. And as a big guy, every time he goes out someone tries to start a fight with him to prove themselves and he's getting kinda sick of dodging it. Tommy witnesses this when Buck goes to get them drinks and swoops in to flex menacingly at the guy bugging his pacifist boyfriend.

Always happy to talk bucktommy, buddie or whatever! ❤️ @winterbuckwild

*takes a deep breath* *takes a sip of coffee* *chokes*

Moooorning! So, wow! Ideas! 🥹 I have a couple of thoughts. First of all, I will definitely try and wrap my head around "having made it home in one piece" because love! LOVE. ClipboardBucktommy, yeah well, since I read a smut fic yesterday, I guess, that's been done 😂

The kids idea is interesting, though not something I'm into regarding writing (look. I have a kid. Somebody not wanting a kid is not angsty to me, that's rational 😂). And I really don't vibe with all of these "BT are married and having kids" thing that I see going round. No offense, if that's anybody's jam, great! Some things are not for everybody, that's normal. Small digression: as I rambled about quite often, I'm currently watching The Rookie season 6, and there's Bailey and Nolan trying for kids right now (I'm kinda pretty at the beginning of that season). And when that started, Bailey was kinda awkward around the kid they took on for a night because some accident I can't remember. I thought, great, maybe she doesn't want kids, that would be awesome! Not because of the evident conflict if Nolan wanted kids but because we see way too less women in media not wanting kids. Even as - or maybe just because I am - a mother, I'm a strong advocate of everyone saying they don't want kids. Well, unfortunately that plot line turned out very different, but yeah, no BT with kids for me. 😂 (Also, I love my daughter, not that anyone gets ideas, great kid!)

About cats: that's so cute, can anybody write that please? Also, fun fact about squirrels (what? Yeah hold on you'll understand). Squirrels might jump on you and hold to your leg. They're not attacking you, they are most likely babies who've lost their mother. It's true!

The FIGHT one! Awwww. I'm gonna play with that in my head.

But in general, I'd love to throw those ideas out in the world, if anybody takes them, please tag me and @winterbuckwild ❤️

[twothpaste]

fick chunk about fuel's not-so-secret project at the new pork ruins, which somehow doubles as a whole-ass character study. (featuring bronson, nana, claus, lucas, and abelle my oc abelle.)

Speakin' of daylight: the noontime shine renders fire far less fearsome.

It flickers from the wick of a tiny index finger. Scarlet diamonds, scarcely greater than a candle's glimmer. How it kisses the ocean. That white-blue horizon line. There's a quaint horror, at the heart of the matter. Knowing even embers like these would - given the chance - reduce houses to ashes. And a quainter comfort, still. Knowing she'd never dare let 'em.

If you ask him 'bout phobias, Fuel ain't got none. Try talkin' to him 'bout "Pee-Tee-Ess-Dee," and he'll kindly decline, arms crossed. "Nah. Nope. N' hell naw, while I'm at it. But thank ya very much, Lucas." That kinda talk's for the twins. N' their forefathers. N' former Pigmasks, maybe some of 'em. His matchstick jitters're just a reflex. His muscles pulled stiff, at the scent of somethin' burning - well, that's 'cause it's a heck of a stinkin' smell. When he wakes up coughing, choking, on smoke that ain't there, it's that sleep apnea shit he's got. Nana diagnosed it. Y'can call her a madwoman, n' he does too, when he's joshin' around. But don't get it backwards. She knows what she's talkin' about.

Likewise, Abelle doesn't mention what's irking her. That she'd definitely be able to muster more than a goshdarn candle. Maybe an antique gas stove. Or a fireplace lighter. If only she'd gotten more than three hours of sleep. It casts a vague orange, ruffling up against the work station's tarped shade. Miscellaneous metal parts reflect only the teeniest glimmers. A wrench here. A dubious hunk of titanium there.

"So. Y'light it with yer mind? Just like that, huh…?" Even after all this time, truth be told, Fuel can still scarcely wrap his head around it.

"Sure do!" Abelle chimes. Before dousing her pride, so as not to be impolite. As the flame wavers, her brow furrows. "It doesn't exactly come natural, though. Gotta focus real hard on it. Helps to think of somethin' warm. I'm thinkin' of s'mores, right now."

"S'mores, huh? Makes sense, I guess. Y'ain't scared of it, or nothin'?"

"Me? Hehe! Naw, I'm never scared!"

"Well, shit! Beg yer pardon!" Fuel leans back, hands raised, donning an amused grin. Has a bite of his peanut butter sandwich, while he's at it. N' mutters the rest with a fist coverin' his mouthful. "I'm only askin' 'cause, ah.. Lucas used to say this psychic stuff was an awful sorta scary. Back when he first started doin' it, I mean."

"Oh, he's told me so, too. It's kinda funny, ain't it? Everyone always says he used to be so skittish. I can't hardly picture it." Abelle's got strawberry jam on hers. N' banana slices, too. She snuffs out the flare, just long enough for a meager nibble.

"Heh. That's fair. Sometimes I can't, neither." Beyond the makeshift awning, out there in the blue, silhouettes mill about the boats. Settin' up chemical filtering equipment, they'd said? Somethin' or other. If he squints, Fuel reckons he can make out Lucas' red-n'-yella plaid. Leading the pack, no doubt. "What if it goes outta control? If the fire gets bigger than y'bargained for, or whatever? That, uh… That ever happen?"

"Mm-mm," Abelle answers. Shakin' her head. "Not really. Not with PK Fire. Sometimes my Shields're too big, if y'can believe it. N' sometimes I start hearin' what other folks're thinkin', n' it's like..? Like I can't turn it off. But, if I'm bein' honest…" Her gaze dips downward, back into the shadows. Scrutinizes the pitiful candle wick, held low in her lap. "M'no good at Psycho-Kinesis. Offensive PSI, Kumatora calls it. The stuff y'can fight with."

"That ain't so bad, is it? Not much to fight about, these days."

"That's what Kumatora n' Lucas're always sayin'. But gosh, have ya seen them spar? They're incredible! N' Claus, too! PK Love, n' Ground, n' Starstorm… It's amazin'. The stuff they can do."

The way the kid's eyes brim with starshine, Fuel can totally imagine her watchin' the Cerulean Beach lightshow. Cheerin' from the sidelines, as Claus and Kumatora hurl fireballs at each other. Makin' the whole goddamn planet Earth shake, like it ain't done since armageddon. Or when Lucas' gaze takes on that otherworldly glow N' shit starts floatin' all around him. Like the very laws of nature were made to be broken, far as he's concerned. Somethin' so gentle n' mild - transfigured into somethin' downright cataclysmic.

Yeah, Fuel's seen 'em spar, alright. It scares the piss outta him.

"But me? I've got none o' that. Too weak for it, I guess." Abelle pinches her fingers together, quashing the flame like a bug. Takes a deep breath. Exhales it all, in one quick burst. "Shoot. Sorry. Didn't mean to go off on a tirade. I prob'ly sound real ungrateful. N' envious, besides."

"Naw, I, ah… I reckon I get where yer comin' from." Fuel shifts his weight, atop the supply crate he's sittin' on. Nurses a half-flat can of Sierra Mist. To clear his throat of that smoggy, cloggy sensation. "Y'just wanna be capable. Protect the folks y'care about. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Be a part of somethin' bigger."

"Yeah…"

"Nothin' wrong with wantin' that." Aluminum crinkles, frail, in his sturdy grasp. "Nothin' wrong at all."

His sandwich disappears down his gullet, during the brief quiet that ensues. Hers remains a work-in-progress. Restless, at seventeen and three months, even lunch breaks are a kind of labor. She shuffles her boots over strewn wires.

"Thank ya, Fuel," Abelle tells him. N' he perks up, and shrugs. Like he's surprised to hear it.

"Me? Naw, thank you. 'Preciate ya showin' me Pee-Kay Fire, at least. Made me feel a little braver. Fer what it's worth."

"Hehe. Aw, jeez. You're welcome, then."

It ain't pyrophobia. She'll take his word for it. But even little miss sunshine can tell there's somethin' he's tryin' to overcome. No matter how quickly he changes lanes.

"Say, y'don't got Thunder? By any chance?"

"Nope. Only Fire. Why?"

"Aw, no reason. Jus' curious."

"Well. I've got a curious question, too, if y'don't mind it. What's all this you're workin' on, in here?"

"Mm?" Fuel's gaze jolts to meet hers, if only for a split second. Dirty fingernails sift along the crate's lid. One foot kicks a heavy-duty screwdriver away, into the lamp-cast shadows. His teeth form a simper. "'Fraid that's a bit of a secret, lil' miss."

The kid's tired eyes turn suddenly sharp. Glancin' past him, at a dimly-lit swath of buttons and dials. Then directly at him. Snagged in a potent stare. Fuel hesitates before speakin' up. Still wearing that dumb grin on his face.

"Wait. Hah. Y'ain't tryin' to read my mind, are ya?"

Abelle stares harder. Takes a deep breath, leaning ever so slightly towards him. Then closes her eyes. As if embroiled in a deep, scrying focus. A chuckle cracks its way through Fuel's constitution. He shakes his head. Clambers to his feet.

"Okay, alright. I'll show ya. But, ah…" One index finger rises, as he drops to a near-whisper. "You'll keep it on the down-low, won'tcha?"

Abelle peeks one eye open. And smiles like a Keebler elf.

"Cross my heart, hope to die!"

-

Yellow paint peels to reveal steel plating. Which, in turn, gives way to scarlet rust. Layin' there in a dilapidated heap, rot notwithstanding, the central console alone prob'ly weighs as much as Abelle herself. Its glass cranium's a lost cause. Shattered n' displaced ages ago. Stiff rods stickin' out the circular chasm up top. Fuel managed to scavenge one lower left limb, mostly intact, from its would-be resting place. The others are a work-in-progress. They litter the workshop, alongside other unfinished Frankensteins. Pull on a pair of inch-thick gloves. A heavy helmet, with a darkened slit for a view. Smothered an apron, like a weighted blanket. She'd tell him he looks silly, if she didn't know better. Absolute spaceman.

He can't tame a bonfire. He can tame a welder. Got a safety checklist in his head. A spark-proof suit of armor. And a forge built of impenetrable battlements.

When Porky took Fuel, he had him puttin' in child labor hours at the goddamn bakery. Workin' dough for desperate dough. Burnin' bread like nobody's business. Absolute wonder he didn't get f-f-f-fired! As merciful a manager as Sweet Caroline was, the role suited her like a square peg to a round hole. N' Fuel, likewise, was a sorry excuse for a baker. Kneading putty, coughin' up flour and oven smog, apron tied too twisty-tight 'round his tree-trunk waist. Like his father before him, the young craftsman's calloused hands have always preferred sturdier fare. If y'ask Fuel, the hop-skip-n'-a-jump from lumber to iron ain't so much of a leap, after all.

Mecha Lions n' Boa Transistors are his bread n' butter out here. Should a stray Rhinocerocket come barrelling through the walkway, on account of a busted fin, Fuel's your guy. He'll whip up a replacement in no time flat. N' never mind the occasional dent that may mar his best bud's steely shins. Chimera repairs're a noble duty, far as he's concerned. One he's proud to uphold.

Robots, though? Most folks hardly consider 'em casualties. If they consider 'em at all.

An uncommon sight - most have long since ceased functioning. Uttered their last garbled beeps, and melded into the wreckage upon which they stand. A slim handful were reprogrammed n' repurposed, back during the first salvage missions. The rest were left to their tombs. Haunted the Harbor for about a decade, crawlin' around the place in various states of zombified dysfunction. You can picture a teenaged Fuel's cringing horror, as a shambling Octobot claimed his leg in a tendril's grasp. Yanked him straight down with a vengeance nastier than any sinkhole. Claus came to his rescue, this time. Made quick work of it. Crowbar's clash. Psionic flash. An ugly scowl marks the spot in his memory.

Y'can picture, too, how that same teenaged Fuel looked down upon the un-creature. One half titanium, one half bronze, sundered roughly down the middle. Circuit-tronics n' whatsits, blasted every which way. Not-brains spilling from its not-head. Its veneer, crisply obliterated, looked not unlike a welding mask. Come to think of it.

Each had a directive, once upon a time. Monitor the perimeter. Exterminate intruders. Serve King Burgers. Whatever. None have the chops for any task, anymore. Too feeble, ineffectual, expendable. Too little, too late. Wrong place n' time. To say robots "want" for anything would be a stretch. But the premise of "purpose" gets Fuel a wee bit misty-eyed.

Sure, it's a silly sentiment. He knows it. "Laugh it up, if ya like," he says. Becomes apparent to Abelle, real quick, that it ain't an illicit sorta secret, but a self-conscious one. Some folks have a righteous penchant for amends. He's got a feckless tendency toward unsung causes.

"Naw, I think it's mighty kind of ya," she replies. Naturally. Abelle's the girl who calls old cars "she," n' pats her PC's tower when it ain't loadin', n' prescribes human feelings to vintage stereos. That said, she'd be lyin' if she claimed her intrigue isn't primarily techno-historical. Eyein' the robot with an eagerness to match his mercy. "What about the wiring? N' the hardware repairs? I know just a lil' bit, myself. Might could help ya fix the processin' unit, if it's still got one."

"That so, Barbie? I'll take ya up on it, if y'mean it. Got Sheep helpin' me with some o' the electronics. Was thinkin' of askin' Claus, but they.. ah…"

They were there, last week, when Fuel pried the leg from the bog. Their spine's no good for heaving, these days. Helped him pull it loose, nevertheless. A mere index finger beckoned a telekinetic tug. N' they'd been all laughs, n' Lifeup, n' pats on the back, after Kerosene was sent tumblin' backwards. The foundry's mechanical menagerie had them whistlin' a different tune, though. Quiet steps, Lucas-esque. Deer in a taxidermy shop. Low glower, set upon Fuel's Lego brick pity projects.

"I don't see what's gotcha so touchy, all of a sudden. Ain't that different from Mecha Lions n' Boa Transistors, is it?"

Claus didn't answer him with the same old scowl. Not quite. Fury is a mask they outgrew ages ago.

Nana told him not to sweat it, over dinner. "Environment's got a profound effect on an animal's nerves. His words, not mine. He won't say so, but I think the Harbor has him a bit on edge. I wouldn't take it personally, if I were you."

"Me? Take shit personally? Hahah. I would never! Jeez, Nana, it's like ya don't even know me."

Fuel's the only one who can get her to roll her eyes with a smile. He loves it when she does that.

… Anyways.

He tells Abelle she ought not mention it to Claus. No sooner than she nods her noggin, Bronson barges in. Here to check up on his apprentice's handiwork, apparently. A wayward elbow knocks that can of Sierra Mist from its cabinet-top perch. "Oh, shoot. I didn't…" The master smith gawks down at his blunder. Only to find the can halfway crushed. And thankfully empty. Not a drop of spillage. He hunches over - pop in his knees - and picks it up. There's a remarkable grace to his hammy fingers. And a klutziness to his cough. ".. Ehm. Sorry." Fuel chuckles. No harm, no foul.

"Gosh, how many folks're in on this, anyways?" Abelle inquires. "Doesn't seem like much of a secret to me."

"The hell do ya mean? It's jus' Bronson, n' Sheep, n' Claus," muffles Fuel, through his helmet. "N' Nana, o' course. N' you. Now. I guess. So, uh. Practically nobody."

The robot's shiny new right leg is immaculate, by the way. Accordin' to Bronson's utmost scrutiny. A nigh mirror image of its leftward double. "I'm tellin' ya, Barlmoro, you've got this down to a science! Dunno what the heck y'need me for, anymore. I'll give ya a hand with the installation, though. Only since ya asked real nice."

"Why thank ya, boss," says Fuel. Who didn't ask at all.

But disaster strikes the master, when he hunkers on down. A sharp pain in his lumbar is swift to knock him right outta commission. Abelle ends up nursin' his woes with Lifeup, while Bronson nurses a root beer. She lends Fuel her lackluster telekinesis, in his stead. An invisible force - only a little shaky - helps him attach both legs, safe and secure, to the central console.

"… This look even to you, boss?" Fuel tosses back. Like a consolation.

Bronson holds up a measuring level, from his seat on the sidelines. Closes one eye. Squints. N' forces a wincing grin.

"Right on, kid."

Couple mornings later, Lucas swings by, in that awfully quiet way he's wont to. Nearly spooks Fuel right outta his skin, when he gets a knock on the wooden entryway frame. He tosses a frantic tarp over the automaton's arms. Raises his soda can, to meet Lucas' coffee jar.

"Ain'tcha doin' chimera transit today? Whatcha need little ol' me for?"

"We're gettin' started now. Thought I'd drop by, while uh. While most folks're preoccupied."

Lucas can't read minds. Besides Claus', at least. Kumatora's, maybe a little. But no one else. He's assured Fuel of it, 'bout ten or eleven times. Still, he finds his stomach sinkin' a little. The way his childhood pal looks right through him.

"Claus mentioned y'were repairin' robots. Told me not to tell anybody. Then, ah… Then Abelle said so, too. Ain't sure if it's still s'posed to be a secret or not."

Right. Of course.

"Heh, well, shit! Y'got me! I know, I know, y'don't gotta tell me, it's real stupid. They ain't livin' things. Don't even got feelin's, n' here I am feelin' sorry for 'em. We oughtta be usin' their parts for scrap, n' chimera repairs, n.. n' if ya need me to, Lucas, I'll stop n' do that instead, honest to god. Didn't mean to be all sketchy about it, I jus'..? Mm?"

Ain't like Lucas to interrupt. He raises his hand, instead. With a real pitiful blast of his overcast sky eyes.

"Err. Sorry. Go ahead," says Fuel.

"Don't worry 'bout it. S'alright. I just wanted to offer, um.. I mean. I can't work metal, or electronics, or do none o' that programmin' stuff. But. If y'ever need a jolt? Y'know, like, to jump-start somethin'?"

Lucas flashes him a thumbs-up. A teeny spark of PK Thunder dances from his fingertip.

"Lemme know. Anytime."

He watches, over a meek sip of coffee. While Fuel's pensive panic melts away like marshmallow goop.

"Ha.. haha! Phew, fuck, man! Thank ya, Lucas!! I mean it. Thank ya...!"

[awiola]

Normal update, autumn??? XXIII

Okay, so I thought it would be a nice, winter quarterly update but turns out the last one was titled summer and I guess going by calendar, winter barely started so it's??? autumn??? I guess??? Last day of the year but autumn, sure, let's go with that. That being the case, I have no new year's pic for y'all cause I can't draw I was devving uhh, rly hard, let's say. Totally.

Anyway, the mushroom jam has ended and I planned to have a release update BUT THEN I DIDN'T FINISH THE GAME ON TIME YET AGAIN, who would've thought, so, like, there's nothing. I mean, something exists but yeah >_> I'll write a devlog when it finally looks presentable. Moving on...

Current game stuff

The spooktober game has been finished, kinda - The enmity of dead things. It, well, it works and it contains the full script and everything but lacks both art and music cause I couldn't finish it on time laziness goes brrr. Then I wanted a break and worked on other games and kinda left it like that... So that's the first item on my "Finally finish it in 2024, you stupid fuck" list. All in all it wasn't a total failure and I had fun for the most part. Committing to my bad decisions [look at the textbox] is actually the main cause the game wasn't finished on time... You live and don't learn.

The failure of the year... Or quarter at least - Mushroom game. Despite being technically published to add it to the jam, it's so unfinished I won't even link it here. And it's all my fault cause I was being lazy and, as usual, forgot I can't actually program. Yeah...

Helped with Cool Days. There's really not much of my work there, I honestly considered making a new category for games I kinda helped with but tbh the amount of work actually finished was close to zero but hey, it's still more than nothing so Check it out, it has cool graphics.

The ace teens game got shelved/postponed and it's not my fault this time but instead we're working on a fantasy kinda thing for Ace jam [and maybe also Zack jam while we're at it but that might've been said in jest]. Fortunately it's small enough I don't expect any delays. I can say it involves a golem who isn't a humanoid (灬˘╰╯˘灬)♥｡･ﾟ

Now for the big thing.

Fanfares, please.

🎉🎉🎉

IMPOSTOR SYNDROME - is a game for winter jam which also happens to be a demo cause we ran out of time but! - it will be finished soon-ish. I'll share more details in the release devlog so if the link to the game works already, that means the page's up and so is all the info. If it doesn't work, check again in a few hours but I'm assuming most people who actually read all that will do so post winter jam anyway.

Genre wise it's an otome chat sim comedy that's extremely self indulged and I'm not ashamed of that. Gotta make games for yourself and all that. Though, again, my own conribution to the development process remains minimal. I'm truly becoming the idea guy.

The "Finally finish it in 2024, you stupid fuck" list aka the stuff that should've been finished already but isn't

Umm, yeah, everything. Or, to be more specific, Mushroom game and Enmity take priority here but all the other games that needed some quality of life adjustments like making the web build work on mobile etc are also included [which is kinda funny cause a lot of them could be corrected in like an hour if I actually sat and did just that].

It's been more than three years since I released Argousze and yes, you gessed it, it's also unfinished. Which is extra funny in a pathetic way cause it was supposed to be a low effort game with, like, 2k words of wordcount. To be fair I kinda dropped it cause I couldn't design my aliens but maybe I'll actually get a good idea for once and manage to release it on its fourth anniversary. That'd be nice.

Other than that, well... That's more of a resolution than anything but I should stop constantly joining new teams and all... And either take a proper dev break or work on ye olde projects waiting for me since the beginning of HS. I'll become older than my oldest LI before I finish them at this point lol

Pariiish noootiiiceees

This year we're gonna have two new jams instead of one. Stuff happened and yeah. No links just yet cause not only are the pages not finished but there's also no planned date/duration beyond 'sometime in the later part of the year'.

The first jam is Tentacle jam which, I'm pretty sure, would bring us eroges. This was not my intention and all kind of sfw tentacles are allowed but tbh as long as there's a proper story, even a nukige would pass. Basically the rules remain like in all the previous jams I hosted.

The second jam is Insect [adjacent] jam which actually accepts all kinds of arthropods but it started as just insect jam and I wanted to keep the name. So yeah. Obviously more detailed rules of what's allowed would be written on the page when it's up properly and not in a half dead state like right now.

Incidentally, whatever the date ends up being, both of these jams would be hosted at the same time so if you wanted to make a story taking place underwater or something, you could submit it to both of these jams. Neat, right?

That's it for this year.

Over.

[nsokolow]

Little Weasel, Big City: Chapter 15

“I’m telling you, Leilani, it’s kinda nice to see a familiar face here. Now I might have one at work!” Travis commented as he pulled away from the curb.

“Oh, right! Thanks!” Leilani, who sat next to him, gave him a quick nod.

“So, Travis, uh, when are we gonna be there? This farm’s gotta be a good deal away from this area, since it’s full of buildin’s and cement and stuff.” Duke picked up an open bag of chips and ate from it.

“I’m gonna drive us to the train station, then we’re gonna take the train to Meadowlands. I’ll call a rideshare service to pick us up after our train ride,” replied Travis.

“Huh, haven’t been on a train in a while,” Duke remarked though a mouth full of chips.

“Really? How come?” Leilani looked back at Duke.

Duke shrugged. “Eh, just haven’t had a reason to. I was busy tryin’ to make it big time.”

“Well, you might succeed this time, Duke. This Daring Do job pays pretty well. Some of the animals there are kinda scary, and I ain’t in love with the commute, but it pays well. Besides, I don’t have to be at the farm very often.”

“I do need money! I’m so glad to hear that!” Leilani exclaimed. Her heart swelled with pride at her acting skills.

“Great!” Travis approached a STOP sign.

“Hey, Travis, do you mind if I turn on the radio?” Leilani asked.

“Yeah, sure. Just don’t change none of my presets.”

“Yeah! Let’s jam out!” Duke threw his fists in the air. “What kind of music are ya into anyway, Lei?”

“Well, usually pop or country; singers like Gazelle and Taylor Sheep.” Leilani began flipping through radio stations.

“Oh, I like those two! I’m partial to rock and rap. My favorite rappers are Lil’ Yakky and Kodak Bear. I kinda like Emu Nem, too.”

“Wait, you don’t know what kind of music each other likes? How long have you two even known each other? I mean, you’re married!”

Leilani stopped pressing the button. “Uh…well…honestly, we haven’t really known each other that long, but, when you know, you know! You know?”

Leilani saw Duke raise his eyebrows.

“Oh, well, I guess I get it. On me and my ex’s first date, we talked about what kind of music we liked. Maybe that’s unusual. I dunno.”

Leilani pressed the button two more times and stayed on a station that played a Gazelle song. A first date. Something she never had with Duke. She liked Duke, and she was pretty sure he liked her too. After all, he liked her enough to marry her, so he must have seen something in her. Despite his shiftiness, he cared enough to tell her that he contributed to the plantings of Daring Do. She suddenly wanted to have a first date with him so much. To just have fun together without her trying to get her new life together or them trying to figure out where some strange plants came from.

“Wow! This is awesome!” Duke, on the train, laughed as he grabbed onto a pole and swung around it. “I should do this more often! I don’t even care how long it’ll take until we get there! This is awesome!”

Leilani, standing at a pole next to him, had a hearty chuckle at his excitement over something nobody else seemed to care about.

“Hey, weasel!”

Leilani and Duke both pricked up their ears. They turned around and saw an elephant sitting down.

“Yeah, you with the black getup! Instead of taking your meds like I suggested, you got yourself a boyfriend to act stupid with!”

Travis dropped his mouth open as he looked back and forth between the weasels and the elephant.

“We just started takin’ our meds but they ain’t gonna take affect for a while. It’s called Get-A-Life-Exitine!” Duke took his toothpick out of his mouth and flicked it at the elephant’s trunk.

The elephant grunted and returned to her phone.

Leilani stared at Duke and slowly smiled. “Wow! That was awesome!” Leilani walked over to him and held onto the same pole.

“Oh, uh, well, thanks!” Duke softly chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, he was a jerk, and I ain’t crazy about ableism. I mean, I know you ain’t disabled, not that that’s an insult.”

Leilani continued to smile as she narrowed her eyes. “Well, I appreciate it.”

Duke sighed. “Listen, Lei, I’ve been thinkin’…maybe once we have time and everything, and once I get my first paycheck, I could…take you out somewhere? My boss said the paychecks come every Friday.”

Leilani’s heart jumped. “Oh, uh, yeah! Sure! I mean, we don’t have to wait until you get money; we could do a picnic or go to the beach or something.”

“Well, uh, great! How about a picnic?”

“Great!” Leilani grinned and held a thumb up.

Far away in the meadow, Leilani saw rows of brown and neon green, accompanied by what was either a white tent or house.

“Is that the place?” Leilani asked.

“Yup,” replied Travis, “Come on. I’ll introduce you to the folks.”

Leilani inhaled and exhaled a trembling breath. This is actually happening. We’re actually going through with this. No going back—

She suddenly felt Duke’s paw on her shoulder.

Duke grimaced and gave a small, high-pitched laugh. “We’ll be okay!”

Leilani took a deep breath before they followed Travis down the hill and to the farm.

“Hey y’all! I’m back! Got some prospective coworkers with me.” Travis announced.

The array of animals watering the rows of Daring Do looked up from their watering cans.

“So…how prospective are they?” A deer narrowed his eyes and pointed a hoof at the clearly nervous weasels.

“Oh, pretty prospective. They just got married, and they’re in desperate need of money.”

“Yeah!” Duke put his arm around Leilani and walked ahead of Travis. “You ain’t got no idea how much my wife and I need this job! We’ve really hit upon hard times!” Duke’s anxious demeanor quickly calmed. “So, you got like, a manager we can talk to or somethin’?”

The deer rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. I’ll go take you two to our manager.”