#he was my first proper tank i invested in

[philistiniphagottini]

reading take me into your arms pt2 and seeing the bit about Gepard...and I'm like...what? was he always this cute?

am I being swayed? I refuse. Noooooooooo. I gotta stay strong.

Nagiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii.

Gepard is cute. I will not help you. Succumb to it. Just give in. Accept that Gepard can be cute :)

[jaythes1mp]

Hello how are you? I hope you are well!

Okay wait this idea is probably dumb and stupid so you can ignore it since it popped up into my head and I wanted to ask but what about a goldfish! reader who can turn into a human.

It’s like cat! Reader or puppy! reader but instead of them being either of those they can change into a goldfish.

How would the Batfamily treat them? Like a huge tank or something? Premium fish food? Treats?

How would the Batfamily treat their human form?

I started to laugh while writing this so haha

Have a wonderful day/ night/ evening!

I LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH TAKE A BREAK AND MAKE SURE TO REST AND DRINK WATER AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF!!! 🩷❤️💙🩵💚💜💛

⭐️anon (I just dubbed myself that sorry 🤣)

You can totally be ⭐️ anon, I love your energy!

In the case of a goldfish reader, and any other freshwater creatures that they may turn into, the family would first have to develop a fiercely protective and possessive obsession over the human half before they would become overly invested in the aquatic aspects.

It's not until the family has become yandere that they would start showing a particularly possessive interest in your freshwater form.

With a goldfish in mind, Jason wouldn’t likely exhibit a strong interest in you due to the limitations of your aquatic form. But on those rare occasions when he’s at the manor, he’ll still opt to spend time with you, enjoying your company even if you can’t do the same things he typically enjoys.

However, if Jason were able to find a way to force you into remaining in your human form with him, then he’d probably become completely fixated on keeping you by his side at all times. You’re still his Darling, yknow? It’s a pity that the rest of the fam won’t let him keep you at his house. He’d even buy a large tank for when you shift, and everything!

Tim would be delighted the thought of stealing you from the manors comedically oversized enclosure, which they had built in just for you, to swap you out for a regular fish he had bought at the nearest pet store, just to see how long it took for the rest of the family to notice.

He'd keep you in a tank on his desk, right next to all his paperwork, so that he can watch over you as he works away, taking little breaks to observe and admire you as you swim about in your watery prison.

Tim would make sure to keep the tank well-decorated and comfortable, adding in your favorite plants, stones, and trinkets to keep you entertained. Similar to the main one in the center of the manor, just with far less space.

But regardless of how pretty your tank looks, it would still feel like a prison. You're always going to be painfully aware of your confinement. Especially when the one on Tim’s desk has a lid, forcing you to stay and swim endless circles, never stopping until he feels gracious enough to let you out.

Damian treats you with extreme care. Everything must be perfect. With a sterile, immaculate tank, an ample supply of food 24/7, your health in top condition, and absolutely no signs of boredom. Even the slightest hint of loneliness will have him instantly scooping you out of the water, either forcing you to change back to spend time together, or he'll invest in a portable tank to smuggle you into his school. You'll never be left to your own devices for long, as he's always making sure that you're given all the attention that you deserve.

Damian is fully aware of how susceptible fish can be to depression, and given the somewhat abrupt manner of your kidnapping, he won’t take any chances. So, to prevent any potential psychological distress, he's extremely careful to provide you with everything you could possibly need to be happy and healthy. With ample space to swim around, a proper diet, and plenty of stimuli to keep you entertained. When you’re with him, it's as if you're living a life of unparalleled luxury, in spite of your confinement.

Although, Damian has still accidentally snatched up the counterfeit you that Tim had placed in your tank, and it was ultimately Conner who had to break the news to him that it wasn't the real you half way through the school day.

Dick, being the affectionate sibling that he is, would probably still keep you company while in your goldfish form. He'd swim about in the water with you, and find ways to interact and entertain you, such as tossing in small toys for you to play with, or placing his hands in the water to let you nuzzle against them. He's just glad that you're in a more vulnerable form, as it reminds him of when Jason was a child and how he’d missed out on the time in your life where you'd of been more receptive to his affection.

He’d probably even have special underwater equipment installed in the tank, like a communication device so that he could “talk” to you, bubbles that he could blow at you, or maybe even an intercom for music, just so he could better connect with you in your aquatic form. Dick will stop at no end to ensure that you feel loved and included, even as a fish.

It’ll be almost the same as with your human form, but instead of using words or touch, Dick will find other creative ways to pamper and spoil you, like adding special treats or fish toys to the tank, or arranging the underwater environment into a little sanctuary just for you. He’ll do everything in his power to show how much he cares, just like the affectionate big brother that he’s forced you to see him as. Just how it’s supposed to be.

The last of the family is Bruce. While the others find ways to pamper and spoil you, Bruce's interactions with you as a fish are a little more distant. He'll dutifully check in on you at least twice a day, making sure that the tank is clean and that the water quality is up to standard. But after that, he'll spend less and less time around your enclosure.

He's more comfortable when you're in human form around him, as it allows him to better understand your wellbeing. He can gauge your emotions, check if you've been eating enough, and actually see you properly, instead of just catching glimpses of your little fish body hiding behind the expensive rocks.

You're now Bruce’s child, and yet, when you’re in your goldfish form, he can't help but feel a distance between you. Perhaps it's the inability to communicate, or the way your little fish body seems to hide behind everything, but it's harder for him to truly connect with you on a deeper level. Maybe it's the cold reality of knowing that he’s keeping you in confinement, or the loss of affection, but something about your life as a fish just doesn’t sit well with him.

Link to Masterlist

Extra

[yurisorcerer]

I'm not gonna pretend I have anything super new or innovative to say about Mobile Suit Gundam. It's one of the most-analyzed anime ever, and I pale in comparison to some of the people who *have* analyzed it, but here I am, thinking about it regardless.

For context, I am watching this as part of a---as she called it---"comet swap" with my good friend @charaznablespeteevee, where I watch a mecha anime she is obsessed with (Gundam) and she watches one I am obsessed with (Code Geass). I'm not sure if I'm going to write a big long post like this about every episode (since I'm going to *try* to watch at least one per day, that would get quite exhausting), but I am liveblogging it more informally over on the worst website on Earth, if you're willing to put up with that Nazi-infested hellhole long enough to read some posts from yours truly.

In any case, Gundam and Code Geass. are many differences between these, the main ones being that Code Geass is more recent and also not widely hailed as a masterpiece of its form. It does *draw* notably from Gundam though despite having very different artistic aims and a different tone, so watching this makes sense in a way. I spent way too much of my teenagerhood obsessed with Lelouch, and now I'm watching the anime that his archetypal grandfather came from. (Goddess have mercy on my soul.)

My experience with Gundam as a franchise prior to this is very limited, but I do have some. For reference, I have seen all of:

Gundam 00, back when it aired on the SyFy channel when they had an anime block many years ago. I really liked this as a teenager but I don't remember it super well.

The Witch From Mercury, lesbian space combat, with a notable Code Geass staff connection. WFM was not perfect or anything but I loved it a lot and Suletta is very dear to me. I actually bought an Aerial gunpla a few months ago that is currently sitting unassembled in my closet.

the first Gundam 0079 compilation movie. Now, it might seem weird that I've seen this and am now going back to watch the TV series. But, while I remember the general outline of what happened, I was SUPER sick when I watched it, and I only remember what happened really, really vaguely. While I have some idea of the general outline of what's to come, I'm mostly going in genuinely blind.

like 4 or 5 episodes of Victory Gundam, which I liked but kind of fell off of. So we're giving the franchise a proper second go here.

I'm a mecha fan more generally, and I'll get into some of that as I write these, but for now that's the relevant stuff.

Anyway, my main impression of 0079's first episode is actually a structural one. It's REALLY well put together. We introduce the setting, we introduce our main characters, and we introduce the main conflict, all very economically and with a lot of style---more style than some shows with significantly less room to work with manage, in fact---and I'm immediately invested in the fate of our main character, Amuro Ray.

From what I gather here (and a little bit from outside information), my impression is that of a kid who loses his innocence very, very rapidly over the course of this story. Here, the space-hab-thing he lives on is attacked, and he ends up in the cockpit of an experimental superweapon called a Gundam (maybe you've heard of them?). I LOVE how the Gundam is framed here, like some kind of genuinely scary war machine. It's an intentionally othering effect i mostly associate with later mecha anime, especially those with outright monstrous mecha like Evangelion or even The Big O, so to see it here in such a comparatively early series in the genre is impressive.

The episode's climax sees him kill two soldiers from the enemy nation of Zeon, but it's not a triumphant thing, really. He's portrayed as kind of not really knowing what he's doing, flailing around inside this gigantic walking tank / mechanical war god. But then when he *does* figure things out, well, he has to deal with the fact that he just killed two dudes. Going by the cliffhangery ending here, it doesn't seem like his troubles are over, either.

[asimplevampire]

so thanks to angelapleasant's take on Buzz in Something Wicked (brilliantly written btw), I've been thinking about how I want to do the Grunts, because I was never satisfied with how I was writing them. If I ever bring back my modern uberhood (I have the canon URL!) or if I want to play them in medieval PV or what have you. and well.

I do like the fanon more than she does, but I also want it to be more. complicated. tastier. a bit less... teenage. and seeing angelapleasant's depiction of Buzz and Tank made it click, the exact dynamic I want.

so in order to make this work we first need to accept a postulate: all the Grunt boys are neurodivergent. yes, all. None of them will ever get a proper diagnosis while they're living under Buzz's roof. But...

Buzz is the kind of middle-aged white guy who yells at everyone if he can't keep to his strict routine, and only eats three foods, and has Strong Opinions about sportsball statistics. He's very invested in Looking Like The Right Kind Of Person-- he's constantly masking, honestly-- and very invested in Being Normal. (Incidentally, this is why Buzz hates PT- not aliens in general, PT and the Smiths. He can't stand that someone so Weird is better at Being Normal than his family.)

Tank takes after his dad, and also has the profound misfortune of Taking Ideas Seriously. When Tank believes in something, he genuinely believes it with his whole chest. This is a rarer quality to have than one might think. It is also a deeply unfortunate quality to have in a place like Strangetown.

Ripp doesn't like routines. Or being told what to do. Or having to focus on anything but the, like, three things he cares about. And none of those things are Normal- he likes art and music and writing terribad romance novels. He's also flamingly bi, and since he's a Romance sim, he's not very good at keeping it under wraps. He started talking about having crushes on boys in kindergarten.

Buck has exactly one interest (pet fashion!), is also an incredibly picky eater, doesn't like loud noises or crowds, and can't tie his shoes or tell time on an analog clock. He talks a lot with family and friends, but completely clams up around strangers.

And so we've got this family dynamic where...

Buzz is harder on Ripp than he is on either of his other children. Buzz desperately wants Ripp to be Normal, for both selfless and selfish reasons. The world's a cruel place to be Not Normal, after all... and it's a cruel place if your kids reflect Weird back on you.

Perhaps a bit too hard. Perhaps pushing into the realm of "asking Ripp to do the unwise or impossible". Perhaps getting worse and more unreasonable the older (and surlier) Ripp gets.

Ripp resents this, ofc, and pushes back. They've got a vicious cycle going where Ripp rebels harder every time the General puts more expectations on him, which makes the General push back harder with more expectations, which makes Ripp rebel...

Tank has been watching this horrible cycle his entire life. And no one bothered to tell him that the expectations Buzz puts on Ripp are not the same expectations that Buzz wants him to live under.

And Tank takes ideas seriously.

So Tank is desperately struggling to live up to this impossible ideal that no one asked or expected of him. He's trying to be the perfect soldier, get perfect grades, be perfect at his job, keep his room perfectly tidy, be Better At Being A Good Normal Person than anyone else in the family, hate the people the General wants him to hate...

If Buzz knew what Tank has internalized, at this point, he'd be horrified. He mostly just wants his kids to do their best... and mayyyybe not publicly embarrass the family.

Buzz is also easier on Buck than either of his other children, because he's the baby and you just kind of ... instinctively want to take care of him. It doesn't hurt that Buck looks more like Lyla than either of the other kids...

So Tank is desperately struggling to live up to an impossible ideal that no one asked him to live up to; Ripp is desperately kicking against the pricks of an impossible ideal that everyone seems to want him to live up to; and Buck is alternating between Getting Forgotten and Getting Spoiled Rotten.

You've got this horrible, horrible family dynamic, that could probably be resolved with, like, three honest conversations and some honest renegotiation around expectations. But all of these men (except maybe Buck?) are incredibly emotionally constipated and Will Not Talk To Each Other without some severe goading from an outside force.

idk, that's just where I'm at at this point, and I don't think I've seen anyone else with this specific headcanon. especially not neurodivergent!Buzz.

[rosies-emporium]

💔

send 💔 for my muse to talk about an ex

Husbands covered: 1/7

[MOD TALK] Time to begin those Rosie headcanon lore drops! So excited to slowly explore her story and descent into remorseless cannibalism as it unfolded in my head haha <3 Enjoy, be mindful of the tws + of this all being mostly headcanon, and send 💔 if you wanna hear about the next one in the line!

tw: cannibalism, blunt force murder, domestic violence mentions, miscarriage mention, period-typical misogyny, alcohol mentions

-------

𝓢𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓮

🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀 

You know, I wasn't born into high society. If I have anyone to thank for the life I was lucky to lead back in human world, it'd be my dear late father. He worked his fingers to the bone to gift me those opportunities, manners, and the proper education, that he did. And like all hard work with a goal, it paid off. Throughout the years, our shop saw many well-heeled patrons. And when one of them invited me to an upcoming ball, I was more than ready. I met my first husband at that ball and trust me, at the time it felt much like a fairytale! He wasn't even that old, only 'bout seven or eight years my senior, and from a well-respected line. Tall, gruff, no-nonsense, scowlin' type. No love at the first sight with this one, but you can't blame a girl for settling when it came with oh so many perks... We married, of course, and fast. For a while, it wasn't even quite so bad to live alongside him. Sure, he could stand to devote some more time and attention to his wife than to his beloved investments, but for the most part, I was left to my own devices. If anything, I enjoyed the independence when he was out 'n' about throughout days and evenings. Started thinking about children, too. Why, my father was aging fast, and began talkin' more and more about how he'd love to meet his grandkids still...

Sometimes I still wonder if it was only his stocks tanking or also my first unfruitful condition of expecting that changed my husband into this distasteful despot he's become. Oh, naturally, it was the bottle too, he started reaching for it far too easily. And trying to suppress me. Suddenly all my advice was nagging, and my vigor was exasperating. Can you imagine? It bugged me enough already, but divorce, you know it, wasn't really on the table. I'd rather not end up like poor Emma, gossiped and scorned by everybody. So I grit my teeth and persevered. And oh, could I put on a cheerful act! Among our neighbors, no one even suspected that we could be having any trouble...

Until the day he first raised his hand at me.

Say you were in my shoes, would you just take it? I didn't. I couldn't. One's first time is rarely premeditated. It's only with time that you learn to plan and execute. Practice makes perfect, and back then? I didn't just have any practice yet.

Our fireplace poker was heavy duty and too close to my reach. It only took a second to grab it. Twenty hits until he stopped moving took me only as long as I needed for the tears to cease their flowing.

It's amusing in retrospect. I was such a scared, unseasoned lamb back then! I stood there over his body in a pool of blood, and my hands wouldn't stop shaking. I felt so much, you know. Fear, mainly. Of consequences, of being found out, of myself and what I've done. But even back then... nowhere among those feelings was regret.

I knew I had to get rid of the body. Hiding it wasn't an option, the house would surely have been searched, and going outside with large bags would draw attention. It was pragmatic, really. Did you know that's how most cannibals start? You'd think it's the curiosity, but not really, not in most of cases. Most often it's the hunger... having nothing else to eat. Or, simply, as it was for me... the idea comes up as a method of disposing of evidence.

So I cooked him up. As the stew bubbled, it smelled nice, but oh, he tasted horrible; must've been this booze filling every crevice of his meat. Still, having a bite was... satisfying. Like a moment of victory, a symbolic thing. I fed the rest of him to dogs. Before his disappearance has been noted, there was nothing more to find.

When some time has passed, and his 'missing person' status got changed to a 'likely dead' one, playing a widow in despair wasn't much more toilsome than playing a happy wife had been...

Can you even blame me?

[fashionablyenigmatic]

Cadmus Christmas Carol Pt.4

They found themselves in what looked to be a meeting room in a small building in the middle of the Silver district. A young Cadmus, around 20 years old, sat at one end of the table, apparently waiting for some people to arrive. Outside the window, a building was being constructed, a building that would soon be Dolore Tower. Young Cadmus smiled at the ongoing construction.

"Oh, forces, why? Oh why did I think it was a good idea to build on a ley line nexus?" The older Cadmus said.

"You were pompous and thought it would bring you more power," the ghost replied sourly.

"All it did was bring me ghosts like you and a necromancer I am not."

Just then, there was a knock at the door, and several older men and women in suits filed into the room and took their seats. These people were all business leaders in Inner City, most of whom had a strong connection to the city's criminal network.

"Welcome, soon-to-be colleagues, investors, and business partners. I thank you all for coming to this meeting. As an added treat, I have brought for each of you a rather hard-to-get selection from Magical Monroe's confectionery in the hope that these delights will be as sweet as the deals we make in this room." Two large, imposing men entered the room and placed a box of chocolates in front of each member in the meeting. "I must apologize for any impropriety I may cause you because, to be fair, I'm quite new at this whole...business thing," the young Cadmus lied expertly. He was quite adept at doing business. In fact, his first job at Uncle Jeffy's hotdog hut in the Inner City Mall quickly rose up the ranks, becoming an Uncle Jeffy's Marvel and becoming a board member a short two years later. A feat that Alphonse thought was cheating.

No one at the meeting looked particularly pleased with the young Cadmus but allowed him to continue his proposal. "Now I know each of you may have some misgivings about how I do business. After all, you may have noticed that I have placed my investments into several of your competitors. Mr. Conferery has made it quite clear in our communications that my investments in The Lender Bar has caused some issues with his uh 'resort'—a far better term than 'brothel,' wouldn't you say?"

Mr. Conferery's face turned beet red and he gave a grumble.

"In fact, I could tank each and every one of you with a few well-placed calls, investments, and something as hideous as blackmail. Don't worry, this room isn't bugged. I mean, if it were, Mr. Conferery wouldn't have suggested it as our meeting place," he said, giving a nod to his bodyguards, who promptly pulled Mr. Conferery out of his chair and ripped open his shirt, revealing a wire, which garnered quite a shock.

"Oh no! It appears Mr. Conferery doesn't seem to be a very trustworthy business partner. What a shame," the young Cadmus was almost gleeful at this revelation. "Well, I think it's time we said goodbye to him, don't you? But before you go, Mr. Conferery, in exchange for your life, I would love it if you signed over The Lotus Garden to me. I can guarantee the continuation of your business—well, after you have left the city to live a long and happy life elsewhere...well, maybe not long if you don't take care of yourself. I think my future colleagues would make it a challenge if you don't leave the city within a week."

As Mr. Conferery hurriedly signed all the paperwork to leave the room quickly, the ghost had produced a bucket of popcorn and was eating it, soaking up the scene like it was a movie. Cadmus tried to take some but got a swift smack on the hand for the attempt.

"Thank you, Mr. Conferery, you are free to leave. Oh, and by the way, that suggestion to leave within the week is not a guarantee of safety for one week," he smirked as the old man ran out of the room. "Now, as for all of you, my suggestion would be to run your businesses under my flagship operations. Which should allow you prosperity, proper development, and safety. No more infighting, no more just barely skirting the law. I have the highest-rated financial experts that will rebalance everything you have and make everything above board. Take it or don't, but a polite reminder that I have you all by the balls."

"God, you are evil!" the ghost chimed.

"Why thank you! But Inner City was a wreck! A hive of crime, hell! You could barely cross the street without getting mugged. I mean...on occasion you still might. I did this for Stan, although he may never thank me for it. Because he should never know."

"That his stepson is-"

"Son." Cadmus corrected.

"Hmm, alright, Son is a criminal mastermind?"

"Well, he knows that. But criminal in the minor sense, mastermind in the major sense, and for most people in this room, I turned their lives around a full 180. Dolore Inc. thrived and had very little need for criminal money. These people set about doing good. What's wrong with that?"

"That you used manipulations against them, and some of these people in this room, you took over their minds to get them to turn around, didn't you?"

The young Cadmus was walking around the room glad-handing with people, his eyes glowing green, evidence of magic at play.

"Well yes...but it's for the greater good."

"Oh, shut it Hot Fuzz. Manipulating people never ends well!"

@violeteyedkiller

[rt-lots]

whats up gamers i have more

tim (UPDATED) - he has the birds AND the cat. but the cat is technically just a stray he feeds. its so beaten up and its furs matted but tim is building trust with it... its less his pet and more his friend.

tamara - a chinchilla!!! i think in a cats v dogs argument she'd be dogs but in general she likes smaller pets... sometimes she brings the chinchilla to readings with kids and it like doubles as a lesson on proper basic chinchilla/rodent care (how to hold, whats good for cages, etc)

carl - my friend @hocuscroakus actually made this one! has a really old, small dog, like a daschund, thats name ISNT buddy but he exclusively calls him buddy. he was lisas dog technically, so its like having a bit of her with him... he rides in his truck

re3koning_inc: a snake NEXT QUESTION. idk what breed (i dunno shit bout snakes) but i was thinking one of the higher maintenance ones... they just seem like the kind of person to be dedicated like that. maybe some fish too, because they also seem like the kind of person to have 40 extra gallons of water in their home

jezz0 - has had ferrets since a kid. like you know that meme where the lady got the sleeve tattoo of all her cats that have passed and it goes down half her arm? jezzo could do that w ferrets. STOP GIVING HIM THEM ‼ (joking. they were all just old. i prommy...)

dumpy - had a goldfish when they first joined minx.. it was in a classic goldfish bowl until re3koning heard about it and sent them death threats until they got a proper tank. doesnt name any of their fish but other m1nx members get invested and name them for them

artie - no pets but used to have a bunny... maybe even bunnIES. he likes to befriend strays too... friendship so awesome

abby - a beautiful fluffy white cat whose fur is so so so soft and pretty. one eye is blue and the other is green... used to cuddle w her daughter when she was little to ensure she'd sleep. such a nice beautiful pretty kitty thats FUCKING DEAD THATS RIGHT NOT EVEN HERE CAN ABBY CATCH A BREAK. fuck you

sandy - guinea pig next question. specifically a boy guinea pig, and just one, because boy guinea pigs are more often affectionate and attached to their owners than girl guinea pigs, who prefer the company of other piggies. the guinea pig definitely has a human name, like dylan. its just dylan and sandy against the world

fuck you fuck you fuck you heres my pet headcanons for misc hypnospace outlaw characters

zane - he SO fucking has a hamster. its technically his moms so its named some shit like cupcake even though its a BOY and he calls him awesome sickle vengeance or whatever combo of edgy words sound cool to him

corey paul - OLD ASS DOG like a REALLY FUCKING OLD DOG it can barely move thing walks at like .5 mph and it has a bunch of fucking fat rolls and its been in the family longer than he has. its named buddy

tim - ok he either has ONE cat thats so fucking mean to him but loves him deep down because its a saved stray or like a flock of small birds. like 6 parakeets maybe more. hes writing edgy fanfic about mind hacks meanwhile peanut is shitting on his headband

tiffany - no pets but really wants a black cat. or a parrot. tim tells her stories about his birds and shes like "woah... thats so cool" and tim begs his mom to let him get more to impress her

roddy - ok side note but i fucking mix up all the dnd nerd bitches in the starport with eachother so bare with me if i am thinking of someone totally different when im talking about roddy. but, hear me out, i think hed have a fucking horse. technically it lives with his cousin because he had to move but its like an hour or two drive so he visits it every weekend. i think he'd also have like weird reptiles. iguana...

samantha - ORANGE CAT NEXT QUESTION. its a girl and has a cute little pink collar. and after the time skip its fucking DEAD obvi i think she fosters kittens and one of them is dark gray w little white paws. shes out here solving the case of the mind crash and mittens is fucking chewing on her headband cord. i think shed also have a super old dog too but its like a small dog

dylan merchant - hes so small dog core... its like a chihuahua maybe ?? or one of those bitches that are like... that but more fur... and itd have little tufts on its ears... and its filled with thoughts of violence but never acts on them. after the mindcrash it looks into dylands eyes with a look of understanding and disappointment. its collar is yellow

adrian merchant - ok assuming he and dylan dont literally just have the same pet i think hed also have a small dog but one of those white, crusty eyed ankle biters. and guinea pigs. he has like those enclosures where theyre tiered you know? like a double decker bus. like they got the fucking stairs and shit from each space to another. they dont have a single plastic toy its all wood and been chewed like halfway through. theyre all named really dumb shit. like mr merchant. and software

linda - GERBIL

[of-invisible-ties]

Xander v Ryoma in terms of stats (Xander better)

As for why this came up ... I’ve been playing an FE: Conquest mod that replaces all of the Conquest units with their Birthright counterparts. After having to play through Conquest with Ryoma instead of Xander, I really found that I missed Xander so, so much. Ryoma was a massive disappointment, and I’ll explain why.

The biggest discrepancy between the two divine swordsmen are speed and defense. Xander has high defense and is meant to act as a slow, yet immovable, wall. Ryoma has low defense, but high speed, making him a glass cannon. 

However, the comparison is not so simple. Xander, in fact, can easily match Ryoma’s speed with proper speed-stacking, and, suddenly, the gap between them is closed and Xander is basically a Ryoma with NONE of Ryoma’s downsides. In other words, a better Ryoma than even Ryoma himself. 

Let me put this simply:

To match Ryoma’s speed, and thus, killing prowess, Xander needs +10 speed.

To match Xander’s defense, and thus, Xander’s tanking prowess, Ryoma needs +20 defense.

I think the numbers really speak for themselves here, but I’ll go into more detail. 

I know that Ryoma and Xander start off with a discrepancy of 11 defense, not 20, but Xander’s personal skill, Chivalry, essentially grants him +2 defense and he’ll gain Defender, which grants him +1 defense, on his first level-up. This sets the initial discrepancy to 13 defense, and it will only get worse when you compare Xander’s 50% defense growth to Ryoma’s 35% defense growth. In essence, Xander will be boosting his already laudable defense to ridiculous levels, and it’s to the extent that enemies on Conquest Lunatic will ignore him because he won’t take damage from them. Ryoma’s lower defense growth doesn’t do his already lackluster durability any favors.

In addition, +10 speed is very easily achieved for Xander. All he needs for that is a Charlotte pair-up (+5 speed on S-Support), Defender (+1 speed), a Speed Tonic (+2 speed), and a Mess Hall boost (+1 or +2 speed depending on the meal’s outcome). For further speed increases, you can use Rally Speed (+4 speed), Azura’s Inspiring Song (+3 speed), and even a Speedwing (+2 speed) or two. In essence, you can give Xander +10 or even +15 speed at will, and this is more than enough to solve any of his speed-relevant issues. Xander will gain these speed increases while retaining his godly defense stat, which makes him a complete monster - he’s a tank who can kill everything while taking minimal damage.

Now, the cost of all this is a speed pair-up, tonics, the Mess Hall, and the odd stat booster or two (if necessary). This is a reasonable cost, and you’ll likely put this much investment into any unit you’d want to use anyway. For what you’ve invested, you get an amazing turnout: a speedy Xander, a true beauty that must be seen to be believed. And I didn’t even get to discussing his reclassing options, such as Hero or Master Ninja, which shore up his speed without costing him his defensive prowess.

Compare this with Ryoma, who needs +20 defense to even hold a candle to speedy Xander. You could get +10 defense if you really tried, but what we want is +20, and that’s basically impossible. You’d need lots of Dracoshields (much more than the one or two Speedwings Xander asks for) and several units stacking Demoiselle and Inspiration (you can get TWO at max on Birthright, which isn’t enough for Ryoma) within two spaces of Ryoma at all times. In other words, what takes Xander a single pair-up and a stat booster or two takes Ryoma a pair-up, at least two other supporting units, and several stat boosters. This ISN’T reasonable.

Ryoma, you worthless lobster, get out of my pub.

[nothingtolosebutweight]

Bury Me Deep Inside Your Heart

It's my attempt to write something spooky for Spooktober. It turned out sad as w/hell, so please be aware ☝🏼.

[If an english-pro finds some utterly stupid mistakes, pls let me know]

Pairing: Heahmund x Ivar

Words: ~5600 / Oneshot

Warnings: Besides the fluff, I think it's more sad than spooky / Characters death

Summary: Heahmund drives to an old farmhouse and has a bizarre encounter on the way.

@jackson--t ♥ @youbloodymadgenius @istorkyou @dini73

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Soft sounds of classical music emanated from the radio and drowned the strained roar of the engine of his beloved old Aston Martin. His car was struggling to cope with the hilly landscape around Sherborne, and Heahmund guessed from the noise that his car would not go much longer without a proper inspection. The Irishman was on his way to his somewhat remote farm site, which he had inherited from a distant cousin a few months back. Why he of all people had the pleasure of managing the farm now, was beyond him. He hadn't had any contact with his cousin Mary for years and the only clear memory of her was one from happy childhood days. And that those times were already a long time behind him, elucidated the first wrinkles around his eyes as well as his neatly trimmed beard. It was not just since yesterday that he was no longer a child, nor even a teenager, so this news came as a total surprise to him.

While he had initially been annoyed that the burden of administration was now being placed on him, after the first visits to the newly owned property, something had changed in him. And this something was so powerful that he did not turn the inheritance into money and decided to keep it and even invest his own money and free time to upgrade it a bit. He loved the isolation and the still untouched nature that surrounded the old but charming farmhouse and so he gladly accepted the long drive there as often as possible in order to escape the hectic everyday life that prevailed in the big city.

His fingertips tapped, in tune with the music, on the steering wheel and Heahmund was already planning the rest of his day inside his head. He couldn't really explain it, but a certain restlessness had been dominating him since the early morning hours and nothing seemed to go as planned today. He had some utensils for the farm in the trunk and couldn't wait to start gardening to distract himself. Despite his eagerness, everything had been delayed by unfortunate circumstances. First his coffee maker went on strike and he couldn't bring himself to give up until he finally had found the fault so he could enjoy his much needed morning coffee. Then his tank was almost empty although he could have sworn it was still half full yesterday. Therefore, he had to do a detour to the gas station before running his errands. Then, to make matters worse, both the gas station and the hardware store were more crowded than usual today. It felt like the entire city was in these stores and long lines had inevitably formed in front of the cash registers. Long lines full of people that were the epitome of dawdling. He suspected that he must have aged by several years during the whole waiting time. At least he already felt it in his bones. Today was like jinxed and the uneasy feeling in his stomach area didn’t want to dissolve either. There was something discomforting in the air and the black-haired man couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but the fact that he frequently felt cold shivers running down his spine, made him even more nervous.

That he would celebrate gardening the way he did one day was something Heahmund had never thought possible beforehand, but this new duty had quite quickly become a beloved hobby of his. He loved to dig in the garden and especially to plant seeds from which a few months later something had grown that he and his beloved one could eat together. It was kind of a rewarding activity and he liked that. In the future, he could also imagine bringing a few animals onto the farm. Unfortunately, this was not yet possible, because he still too rarely made the trip there and even if most farm animals could live well on meadow and some pellets, he felt uncomfortable to leave them unattended for a few days in a row.

After he had taken Ivar to the farm for the first couple of times, his boyfriend couldn't resist the charm of this idyll either. The early twenty year old also enjoyed the time off there very much these days; especially because of the fact that he had Heahmund completely to himself during this time, since hardly any phone signal, let alone wifi, came through and therefore he was not constantly occupied by work-related things.

At first, it was just a running joke between them that one day they would live as an old married couple on this property. Dressed in overalls and straw hats and surrounded by tons of animals, because they couldn't say no to anyone. Each of them preferred a different species that they were eager to shelter, and it was not easy for them to find a compromise. In a way, there was no need to find a compromise either, since they were just having fun, at least at first. But gradually the fantasies became more and more serious and the initial running gag turned into something that both of them really saw as a possible future and one that in the end did not seem so far-fetched at all. Only the amount of animals they wanted to bring to their farm was something they definitely had to reconsider.

But Heahmund loved this fantasy. It gave him something to work towards that he wanted to achieve from the bottom of his heart. He could imagine that the secure feeling that was already spreading within him, just fantasizing about their future together there, would increase many times over, if they actually would make the step. But currently he still had to pursue his normal 9 to 5 job to gather enough money to have some necessary financial security for a life at the farm. At least he was tied to life in the city as long as they had not found a solution for their wifi problem. If this could be solved, then he could work just as well in the solitude of Sherborne's outback as he could in the office. And if Ivar was honest with himself, he couldn't imagine a life without uninterrupted access to the internet and social media either. That's why they were both keen to wait a little longer to realize their dream, but otherwise they spent as much of their free time as possible together on the farm.

Lost in thought, he noticed only peripherally how it had begun to drizzle lightly. Instinctively, his hand reached for the lever that started the windshield wiper in order to clear his view of the otherwise empty road in front of him.

In his mind's eye, he saw himself and Ivar as old men on their porch, which he had yet to repaint. Laugh lines had settled on both their faces like witnesses of time, reflecting that many cheerful days must lay behind them. He hoped, there wouldn't be any lines of worry, although Heahmund wasn't sure if a line or two wouldn't remain between his eyebrows, because he so often frowned in disbelief or feigned annoyance when the younger man once again balanced on his nerves like on a high wire in the circus.

In his vivid imagination he saw them both sitting in two rocking chairs, wrapped in cozy blankets, while watching the hustle and bustle around them with a delighted smile. Their alpacas ( which Ivar was eager to include in their little zoo) and sheep (these in turn were a must have for Heahmund) would graze peacefully in the setting sun, whereas their numerous fancy chickens would strut loudly clucking around the grassy grounds, where they would regularly clash with the ducks. Away from this commotion, an old wiener dog would lie on Ivar's lap, lovingly scratched behind the ears by his sweetheart. Their world would be simply idyllic; perfect; as if straight out of a picture book. This is exactly how Heahmund envisioned their future together lately and even though he still wanted to experience a lot and he would also like to slow down the process of aging in general, he was nevertheless immensely looking forward to growing old alongside Ivar.

Something unusual on the side of the road that he could vaguely make out on the horizon snapped him out of his daydreams. Heahmund squinted his eyes a little to better focus his vision, which was additionally limited due to the drizzle. But he was still too far away to see clearly what it was. It looked like a person walking alongside the road, but this was rather unrealistic here in this area, he thought to himself. Heahmund was already far away from the city, and around him only fields and forests alternated. Every now and then there were poorly built turnoffs that led off the road and into smaller villages, but from his current location, the nearest village would be way too far away for anyone to walk.

Had he perhaps overlooked a car breakdown during his daydreaming and this person was looking for help? He also briefly thought of a movie he had recently seen with Ivar, in which a serial killer crept along lonely country roads, looking for people willing to help him - mostly young, naive blondes - who then fell victim to his sadistic desires. His gaze unconsciously fell on the lock of the car and the black-haired man shook his head in amusement. "I'm not blonde, nor am I a naive girl, so take it easy, Heahmund. It was just a damn movie. Something like that doesn't happen in real life, and certainly not here in Sherborne."He recalled in his mind. Nevertheless, he felt how his uneasiness, which had been with him since the morning hours, had started to grow again.

As he got closer, he was pretty sure that there was indeed a human being walking along the road there, and he was also sure from a short distance that he knew that person. But could that really be? Why would he walk alone along a street so far away from the city that had no destination for miles that he could actually reach comfortably on foot? Was he mistaken and perhaps he should better lock his door after all? What person who was still in his right mind would stray here?

Heahmund took his foot off the gas pedal and reduced his speed a little. However, since he still had the thought in his mind that a crazy serial killer could be roaming around here, he avoided reducing his speed too drastically. In case of emergency, he wanted to be able to get away quickly and if his more serious suspicions turned out to be true, he could always brake more violently and drive back a bit.

"What is he doing her?" he muttered quietly to himself in wonder; accompanied by the sound of screeching tires as Heahmund actually brought the car to an abrupt halt. Since his old car needed some time to execute the braking command, he quickly put the car in reverse gear again and drove back a few meters. He stopped just before the person and reached out to the side door to open it for him in a gentleman-like manner. It was simply in his blood.

"Oh my god, get in before you get soaking wet. What the hell are you doing out here? All alone on top of it? And how did you even get here in the first place?" The words just bubbled out of the black-haired man. He couldn't explain it, but while he usually got palpitations when he saw his boyfriend, now an oppressive feeling spread through him as Ivar sat down in the passenger seat of his old Aston Martin and slowly lifted his eyes to look directly at him. Something was very wrong here.

After all the questions, “Heahmund” was the only word that came out of the mouth of the young man next to him and his voice was thereby so soft that the person addressed could only guess that the faint sigh must have been his name. Ivar sank deeper into the seat and exhaled audibly, while at the same time wrapping his hands around his belly, as if he was cold or had a stomach ache.

"In the flesh, my dear. But that is not even one answer to any of my questions. Once again, what are you doing out here? In the middle of nowhere, all alone, and how the hell did you get here? Did you come here on a motorcycle? Where is it then?" Heahmund tried again to get some answers while turning to his partner and looking at him expectantly.

"I wanted to come to the farm with you today. That's why I left university earlier. I wanted to surprise you because we haven't spent much time alone together lately.” Ivar said as he sank even deeper into the seat, continuing to ignore the questions that poured down on him. “You told me yesterday that you were going to start planting trees today, specifically cherry trees. Am I right?” Ivar went on, and when he saw Heahmund nodding in agreement, he continued. “So I thought we could do it together as some kind of...you know...if you plant a tree together and watch it grow together, isn't it like some kind of manifestation of our bond and love. It’s like raising a child…”

"Or an alpaca." The driver interrupted with a grin, and the corners of Ivar's mouth also twisted into a small smile. However, the older man saw directly that this smile did not really originate from the heart. Ivar's eyes remained unusually cold and Heahmund gave in to the inner urge and raised his hand to let it slide tenderly over his boyfriend's head. He sensed that Ivar was not feeling well, but he couldn't figure out what might have happened. When they had said goodbye to each other in the morning, everything was as usual and Ivar had left for university in good spirits. What had happened in the meantime that had changed him so dramatically?

"Or an alpaca.” Ivar repeated softly. “But without all the trouble. That's why I wanted us to do it together. At least someone has to make sure you do it right. I knew I couldn't leave you alone with such an important task. Not when I want it done the right way." He said teasingly as he so often did, and Heahmund snorted in offense.

“Sometimes you are quite the romantic, aren't you?” Despite all the discomfort he felt, Heahmund smiled at Ivar's affectionate words and his fingers made massaging movements on the boy's head to show him his affection in return. As he observed how a faint smile settled on his boyfriend's lips again, he bent to him without further ado. A feather-light kiss on the temple followed, knowing how much Ivar loved such small gestures of fondness.

“But that doesn't explain anything I asked you beforehand. Had you planned to walk all the way? If so, you wouldn't have arrived before next Friday and I would have already planted several trees myself. So please enlighten me.” While he tried again to get some answers, Heahmund turned back to the front and briefly glanced in the rearview mirror so that he could swerve further to the right if necessary as soon as another vehicle would approach them.

“That's not so important right now. Can we please just drive.. home. I just want to get away from here. I will explain it later, but right now I'm just so tired and it's spooky out here, as well.” It was not the answer he had hoped for and it was not Ivar's usual way to beat around the bush, but he had to agree with him. It was damn creepy out here and Heahmund also felt the cold from outside slowly crawling inside the car since he had turned off the engine and thus also the heater. With a deft grip, he reached for the key still in the ignition and restarted the car with a loud rattle. Glancing back once more, he made his way back into the designated lane before letting his eyes wander back to Ivar.

"How long have you been walking down that street already?"

The sigh that followed clearly conveyed that Ivar was annoyed by Heahmund's persistence. Nevertheless, after a short silence an answer to the question followed. “I don't know exactly. I didn't really pay attention to the time. It didn't seem that long to me, though. One could say, it was just like a short blink.”

When Heahmund looked to the side again, he saw directly into Ivar's eyes that were examining him. The eyes, which usually carried a large portion of mischievousness and cheekiness, still seemed strangely empty and so incredibly sad that Heahmund had to turn away swallowing, as this sight sent one cold shiver after the other down his spine.

They spent the next few minutes in silence. Heahmund frantically tried to look forward and acted as if he had to pay close attention to the course of the road. And yet, the road was just leading straight ahead for many more kilometers, and apart from them there was no one else on the road during that time. Thus, there was no reason for him to drive so over cautious and not deal with the person next to him. Only his inner discomfort, which already began to constrict his throat, made him act this way.

Even Ivar did nothing to break the silence and that alone was again a cause for concern for Heahmund. He didn't recognize his sweetheart like this. Ivar was usually the hot-tempered, cheerful type who always had a lot on his mind and kept him on his toes with stories from his everyday life during car rides. He was someone who constantly irritated him with provocative sayings until Heahmund had to remind him who wore the pants in their relationship. He was used to Ivar teasing him during road trips and they would playfully argue with one another until they arrived at their destination, where they then could no longer wait to help each other out of their clothes in order to release the built up tension. Now and then it had also happened that they could not stand it any longer until the arrival and the younger one had sweetened the trip with a quick handjob and once even with a blowjob. Of course, when cheeky fingers had first tried to get into his pants while he was driving, Heahmund had tried to remain reasonable and present rational arguments against it. But Ivar knew exactly what moves to make to drive him crazy, and he always used that knowledge to his advantage. Thus, his blood had quickly sunk to lower levels and it was impossible for him to remain reasonable. That the wicked mouth of his co-driver would once again find its way into his lap today was something Heahmund couldn't envision given the current mood.

Heahmund was already so lost in thought again that he was slightly startled when Ivar spoke up again

“Can you just hold me for a moment?” Ivar asked softly and his sad eyes, with which he was looking at him, bored deeply into Heahmund's heart. They left a pain in him that he could not put into words. If he didn't have a car to drive, he would have immediately pulled him into his arms, but he didn't want them both to end up in the ditch.

“I’m driving, love. I can’t hug you now.” Heahmund glanced sideways with concern in his eyes and added. “But you can tell me what's going on. I can sense that something is bothering you, and it's written all over your face. What is it that makes you so sad? You can tell me anything, you know that. I will listen to you and you know me. I don't judge you, so please let me be part of your worries. Let us solve them together. I really don't like to see you so... yes... so devastated without knowing what happened or how I can be of any help to you.” While speaking, Heahmund turned his gaze away from his boyfriend and looked ahead, waiting for Ivar to open his mouth and finally tell him what was bothering him. Maybe he could finally get the courage to do it when he wasn't being looked at directly.

But his offer was followed by silence again and the black-haired man inwardly weighed the possibilities that were left to him. Should he remain resolute and continue to inquire, although he had already tried a few times to get answers from him? Would this do any good, except to push Ivar further and further into a corner? Probably not, and so he waited a little longer to give his beloved the time he needed to figure out what to say.

“Can't you just stop again for a second? Just pull over. There is not a single car in sight that we could possibly disturb. Please, Heahmund. I need you...I need your warmth very badly right now. I want so much to be held by you. Only by you. When I'm in your arms, I always feel so... so safe and right now there's no other place I'd rather be.” Ivar's voice seemed weak before, but now Heahmund sensed that the voice he loved so much was becoming even thinner at the end of his begging. The pleading tone in which Ivar spoke to him gave him the rest, and although he found it rather contradictory that Ivar was eager to go on a few moments ago and was now asking again if they could stop, he complied with the softly spoken request.

"Sure, love." Heahmund replied in an attempted calm voice as he pulled over and brought the Aston Martin to a halt on the side of the road. “I’m really worried about you, Ivar.” He said as he leaned toward his beloved and spread his arms out in his direction. "Come here." His heart felt oddly heavy and when Ivar leaned over to him as well, nestling in his arms and rested his head on Heahmund's shoulder, he wrapped him tightly into his arms. Slowly, Heahmund slid one hand to the back of Ivar's head again to give him support and some tenderness, hoping that he could give the young man in his arms what he needed. To increase the feeling of security and protection, he closed his other arm more tightly around Ivar's back and knowing how much his boyfriend liked it when he played with his hair, he began to make tender circular movements with his fingertips.

He couldn't shake the thought that something was wrong here. This introverted, for a hug begging young man had little to do with Ivar's usual personality. Even though Heahmund was of course also familiar with his lover's softer side and also loved it or sometimes even longed for it in times of dispute; but this currently bizarre situation made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"I love you, Heahmund. I love you with every fiber of my being and if I had only one wish, I would want you to be happy. Please don't forget that...Please never forget that I want to see you happy. Promise me that.” His boyfriend's voice, dripping with sadness, only intensified the goosebumps he had developed, and Heahmund hugged his boy even tighter. He had to pull himself together in order not to lose his nerve and in addition to the uneasy feeling, a new emotion joined in - slowly, fear crept up on him as well.

“I love you as much as you love me and maybe just a tiny bit more, cause you are harder to love.” Heahmund tried to joke to escape the seriousness of the situation. If he was honest with himself, he was hopelessly overwhelmed right now. He was good at comforting and was a master at listening, but this, this was beyond his competence. Basically, he just wanted to get to the farm quickly. He had the hope that everything would return to normality there.

"Promise me." The urgent request came back immediately and Heahmund sighed softly before uttering a response. "As long as you're by my side, you'll automatically make me the happiest man on earth. No matter how exhausting you can be now and then. Just before I met you earlier, I had been fantasizing about us. About how we will live on our little farm, with all the animals you will drag in. This is already my mental happy place and we will make it a reality. Us, together. That, I can promise you!" His lips just gently brushed his beloved's temple and a breathed kiss followed this tender movement.

“Shall I turn up the heat a little more?” Heahmund asked right after he came in contact with Ivar's skin. An icy feeling hung on his lips and he loosened his hand that was still playing with Ivar's hair and brought it to his cheek instead in order to feel his temperature. "My God, you're freezing.” He stated in bewilderment, and his hand, even without waiting for an answer, automatically moved to the heater control to set it to the highest setting.

Ivar's reaction consisted of moving a little more towards Heahmund and melting further into his embrace. "Yes, I'm freezing. I feel like I can't feel anything but this damn coldness. It's strange and it scares me a lot. I can't even really feel you. I see you in front of me, but it feels more like I'm in a dream. Even now, so close to you, I can't even perceive your scent. Tell me, did you use your perfume this morning? The one I like so much on you? I wish I could smell it just now." Ivar's voice became more and more brittle the more he spoke, and Heahmund was sure that he hadn’t just misheard, and he could hear a choked sob. "I want to go home, Heahmund. Please don't leave me here. I’m afraid." Were the words that followed, which actually ended in a now clearly hearable sob.

Ivar's words made no sense to him and in his perplexity he moved a bit away to look the younger man straight in the face. He brought their faces close to each other while trying to warm up his boyfriend by vigorously rubbing his upper arms with both of his own hands.

“Look at me, my love.” Heahmund stopped his efforts with one hand as he spoke. He needed his fingers to carefully maneuver it under Ivar's chin and lift it slightly so that the addressed could not avoid his gaze. “I would never abandon you here. Why would you even think that?” To give his words more emphasis, he leaned forward a bit and kissed the velvety-soft - but equally ice-cold lips of his beloved. “Have you caught a cold, and your nose is already stuffy because of it?” This would make at least minimal sense, and Heahmund would even go further and suggest that Ivar was just struggling with a fever, if it weren't for his unnaturally low body temperature.

"We should move on and get you to a warm place.”

"No... Just a few more moments, please. I can't explain it to you now, but you really have to promise me not to be sad or angry. I just want you to be happy, honey. And despite what's going to happen, you should still plant that cherry tree. I want to sit on top of it when it has grown big and strong, and watch over you."

Heahmund automatically smiled because of the given pet name, but the uneasy feeling and confusion in him only grew stronger after Ivar's words. Nothing made sense anymore.

"No! You should really get warm as soon as possible. We can still cuddle at home. As long as you want, okay? And how about I take the next few days off so we can stay there longer and you can rest a bit? Does that sound good to you?" With that said, Heahmund could no longer bear the sight of his somehow broken lover, and he turned to the wheel to start the car for the second time in a short period. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ivar also sinking back into his seat, holding his stomach with one hand anew.

As before, an oppressive silence settled over them, and Heahmund was relieved when he spotted the town sign that indicated their property was within reach. As he drove past the road sign, an icy breeze passed through the interior of the car, sending a shiver down his spine that froze him to the core. Heahmund's first thought was that Ivar must have opened a window, and when he turned to ask him if he was still in his right mind, he slammed on the brakes in shock. The abrupt reaction caused the car to spin sideways, and the black-haired man had to countersteer eagerly to regain control.

"Ivar?" The name of his boyfriend emerged stunned from the elder and he looked at the passenger seat with his mouth open in disbelief. The seat was empty.

Even though it seemed absolutely lunatic, Heahmund looked around searchingly and even glanced at the legroom in front of the back seat. He didn't trust his mind anymore. Surely that couldn't really just have happened? Was he about to go nuts?

Trembling, he got out of the car and a wave of panic washed over him. His breathing was only shallow and rattling and his hands intertwined behind his head. At the same time, he turned in a circle once and looked around searchingly. "Ivar?" He whispered in despair. He tried to call him, to scream for him, but his voice failed him and the only thing that left his mouth was a broken croak. Perplexed and on wobbly legs, he walked one time around his car and then a bit back the way they.. he had just passed. From Ivar, however, was far and wide nothing to see. Around him was a ghostly silence and if he was not mistaken or was about to lose his mind for real, he believed that he could make out a silhouette in the distance, which seemed to slowly dissolve into thin air.

Back at the car, the black-haired man opened the passenger door and felt the seat cushion with his hands. It was cold, as if no one had been sitting there. But Heahmund was absolutely sure that Ivar was with him until a few seconds ago. Thoughts were racing through his head as he tried in vain to rationally explain what he had just experienced. Had he possibly fallen asleep behind the wheel and merely dreamed the last few minutes? But it felt so real - how could that be?

Once back on the driver's side, Heahmund looked for his cell phone, but as he had already figured, reception here was zero, so after five attempts to call Ivar, he gave up. Desperation spread through him. He just wanted to hear Ivar's voice so badly; his laughter when he would make fun of him, when he had told him what he thought had just happened here. His head felt like it was going to collapse under the weight of all the thoughts and attempted explanations crashing down on him, and he equally felt something else forcing its way out. With quick steps, he once more went to the roadside and got rid of his stomach contents.

It took him some time before he felt able to get back behind the wheel and finish the last few minutes of driving home. He just wanted to get to their farmhouse to try his luck again from there to reach Ivar. He therefore completed the last kilometers at a speed for which his driver's license would surely have been revoked if a police patrol had stopped him.

Ivar passed away that day and Heahmund was sure that he could pinpoint the exact moment when this had happened.

When he couldn't reach him from the farm and even his brothers didn't know where he was, he was reported missing immediately. Two days later he was finally found not far from where Heahmund had supposedly picked him up. He had actually set off on his motorcycle that day to drive out to the farm himself. What had ultimately been responsible for him losing control of his vehicle and crashing down a steep embankment could not be clarified in retrospect. What could be said with certainty, however, was that Ivar must have still been alive for a few hours after his accident before all life disappeared from his body. Yet he was no longer able to climb back up the embankment himself, because a thick branch had bored itself into his abdominal region. This was also the injury which must have been his death sentence.

Heahmund was not the same person afterwards and despite his promise, he could no longer find happiness. After the initial numbing sadness had subsided slightly, deep-rooted guilt consumed his thinking. Guilt for not sensing that his beloved one was in need of help although he was so close to him. Shouldn't he have felt something that would have made him stop? Would he then perhaps have heard Ivar's calls for help, if only he had been more attentive?

It was only a feeble consolation for him that he could nonetheless accompany Ivar in a certain way until he took his very last breath and his soul had left this world.

[space-ninja-fashion-show]

HI I'm the anon :D only out of convenience since this is a sideblog, so now i can just drag this over to here and Ramble

I personally wouldn't worry much about rivens. A good one to make a mid-tier weapon worthwhile longer is hard to get, a good one for a popular weapon is pretty much impossible to get bc of how disposition works, and either way say goodbye to your kuva. The only rivens i use are for Funny Nonsense, and I'm doing just fine for myself!

(For reference, I'm chugging along on SP when i feel so inclined, and consider Zariman/ESO relaxing)

Prime (including Umbral/Sacrificial) and Arby mods are both important for improving your arsenal though, yes! As long as you don't feel comfortable with Arbies then don't worry about it, they don't break or make anything on starchart, but they're very handy for beyond it (besides the Galvanized mods, Adaptation and Rolling Guard are precious for survivability)

Working on the Zariman will also do you good bc some of the weapons and arcanes you can get from there are really, really strong! It is no mistake that the Laetum became one of the most used secondaries within a year of its release

Unfortunately i don't have much experience with Limbo (making eyes at the next resurgence cycle about this) or the chakhurr (someday i'll get there), but here's a few recommendations if you'd like to try!

Frames:

Lavos: now I don't know if the problems you've run into are along the lines of "staying alive is hard", but Lavos Doesn't Die. He's damn-near indestructable and with a Lot of damage output to back it up. A learning curve for sure but one I found to be very rewarding. It's no wonder he's my go-to frame for Steel Path, being as tanky as he is and with a condition overload mechanic that things just Love dying to

Revenant: probably the no1 tank anyone will recommend to you these days. Step 1: mesmer skin. Step 2: ??? Step 3: profit

(I feel like a fake Nidus Main here but Lavos and Rev are probably easier to get into when idk if you like tanks in the first place)

Wukong: yeah yeah I know that he's become half an insult, but that aside, he's a genuinely very very versatile frame that I think anyone should give an honest try at least once. Fun movement! Self-heal! Big slappy exalted stick! A twin! He's just a fun guy all around

Gara: has some similarities to Limbo in the area defense/CC department but combines it with damage reduction instead of conditional invulnerability. Also things just die if you run into them

Weapons:

Nataruk: if you liked it during TNW and haven't used it much after, go give it a whirl with a proper build (fire rate, multishot, crit, hunter munitions). It tears through Steel Path even in my clumsy hands. Also I'm a big bow enjoyer so I am Living

Cedo: shotgun go brrr. Self-contained condition overload mechanic which means it scales damage really well. Relatively high accuracy and fire rate for a shotgun. My other go-to SP weapon for anything but boss-type enemies

Laetum: pocket sniper that turns into a damage sprinkler if you feed it a snack of headshots. A bit of a hassle to do the whole evolution gimmick but it's worth it for the 50% chance for fuckoff amounts of damage that you get out of it

I use few guns and a million melees and idk what you prefer in your melee, but depending on how you feel about range, attack speed, heavy vs regular attacks; the xoris, gram prime, guandao prime, and quassus are all close to my heart

(Also, I see a rec for Archon Hunts in the notes and i pale at the thought of that. Archon Hunts are lvl100+ even if not with the SP armour/shield boost, and without good enough gear, they fall between "struggle" and "hell". Also, you've got a million easier things to upgrade your arsenal with than archon shards yet!)

Also, how's your operator combat feeling? What amp do you have? Focus schools are a worthy investment as well (and if you end up going into ESO to get used to the difficulty, you will be getting focus along the way!)

If you were struggling with Zariman missions, I'd say stay far away from Steel Path for a while still. Not for any gatekeeping nonsense reasons, but because you likely wouldn't have fun with such a drastic difficulty spike (not only are the levels 100 higher, enemies are tankier even on top of that!) and there is no reason to go kill your fun like that

In the meantime I can recommend trying to get more comfortable with the Zariman missions and Elite Sanctuary Onslaught if you wanna keep climbing up in levels, and moving on to Arbitrations after if that's your cup of tea (Galvanized mods from Arbies are a huge boon for Steel Path as well!)

Oops, sorry this got wordy. I see myself in everyone getting smacked by a difficulty spike D:

If you would like weapon/build recommendations, I'm sure I'm not the only Tenno around who'd love to help either! Good luck, wherever your journey across the Origin System takes you next :)

HI HELLO yes i will ABSOLUTELY stay the fuck away from SP for a good while yet lmao. thank you so much for the advice and where to get better stuff!!! i appreciate it very much bc i feel like yesterday was my first foray into True Warframe Endgame and it was VERY clear i'm not quite there yet lmao

i very much appreciate your stance on games of "have fun even if it's not endgame/skills-based". very refreshing sometimes and 100% in agreement with my own views on videogame difficulty and fun

i've been trying to fill out my prime arsenal and i've been buying up Baro's stock in primed mods every time he pops his head out of the void so far - but I see now that that is an intermediate step into the next thing, which is... rivens? the arbitration things? god i have no idea please feel free to infodump on me. i will appreciate it very much even if it sometimes is a refresher for things for me. god knows i need it. same for the recs - hit me with them. cmon. i'm double dog daring you or whatever the americans say. whats your fav. how do you start constructing a build i have No Clue.

i might even stop trying to Advance for a little bit and just focus on as you said getting comfy with the Zariman - i need to broaden my familiarity with the stuff i've unlocked recently

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Chapter 6 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault

Important note: the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.

Chapter six 

~|Charlie Gillespie|~

To say I’m nervous is an understatement. I haven’t been back to the Music Store since Monday. Too scared Emily might actually kick me out because she doesn’t want to see me. Too scared if I don’t practice enough, I might totally flop on Saturday and risk a contract or Emily not joining our band. It does make me wonder if she ever missed me. If she’s been searching for me. If she’s listening to other music while cleaning instead of listening to me play the guitar. If she’s been thinking about me as much as I have been thinking about her. Whether it’s been her tiny little smile betraying her tough façade or her voice blending in with mine or belting out the lyrics, she’s been on my mind non-stop. “Another practice after school, boys?” Owen suggests when we’re at Jeremy’s locker, waiting for him to be ready to get to our first class. Jeremy and I both nod in agreement. We all need as much practice as we can get. Owen watches me tentatively, then says, “I went to the Music Store again last night, to make sure they got our name written down.” I don’t notice my eyes widening at this. “How was she?” I blurt out without thinking. “She seemed a bit off, actually. Easily startled, that one,” Owen chuckles, and I do too but I don’t know why. “I found her at the guitars, she was tuning one of the acoustic guitars when I walked up to her and tapped her shoulder. She jumped about five feet high before registering who I was,” Owen keeps his eyes on me tentatively, making sure he’s not overstepping because he knows how I’ve been feeling in the past week. “And when I asked her about the Open Mic Night, she had no clue what I was talking about at first, but then she checked the documents and she had us written down.” I can’t help but smile a little at his story. Sounds about right. That’s the Emily I’ve been keeping my eye on for the past two weeks. “She had us written down as Sunset Cure, but I made sure to change it.” “Sounds like her,” I mutter. Jeremy and Owen both chuckle and then the silence falls over us like a soft blanket until the bell rings and we all split up to get to class. I’m nervous with everything I do. Paying attention in class is hard because I can hear her voice singing that song she sang to the girl in the Music Store mixed in with the song we sang together. Then it makes me wonder if she’s been working on that and if she’s finished it. I left the piece of paper with the bridge on the piano, I hope she’s seen that and hasn’t thrown it out. Then my mind jumps to the question whether she was off yesterday when Owen saw her because she hadn’t seen me, but then again, that would be ridiculous. She’s pushed me away. Why would she think of me when she doesn’t even like me? “Charlie?” A voice shakes me awake from all my daydreams about Emily. When I look up, I find out every student in my class is staring at me, including the teacher. “Can you tell me the answer to the question I just asked the class?” I rack my brain trying to figure out what we were talking about. What class am I even in? “Pay attention, please, Charlie.” I simply nod my head in response but sulk back into Emily-thoughts the second the teacher turns away from me. This day is going to be hard. Tomorrow is going to be even harder.

“You’re still here?” Owen asks on Saturday morning when he finds me still in Jeremy’s garage. We’d been rehearsing until late last night, writing some more songs until we find the perfect one to perform tomorrow night at the Open Mic Night. We’d promised to pick it back up in the morning, but I never left. I’m not even sure if I slept at all. I kept singing Emily’s song. “Did you even sleep at all, bro?” Jeremy questions as he picks up his bass. His eyes are still squinty, meaning he hadn’t slept too much either. “I’m not sure,” I shrug. Owen sits down next to me on the sofa and I’m sure I’m getting the infamous Owen-pep-talk. Even though he’s solely interested in men, he does give some killer advice on women too. “I’m not telling you to forget about her, Char, but maybe don’t get your hopes up too in case she really, really doesn’t want to be a part of Sunset Curve.” He gives me a sharp look. “Then again, judging from how out of it she was Thursday, I think she kind of missed her favorite returning customer.” My heart swells up at the thoughts of her missing me. I push the feeling down because Owen is right. I can’t get my hopes up too high. “Can we rehearse Now or Never?” I ask, getting up from the sofa to pick up my electric guitar, “I think that one gives us the most chances.” Jeremy and Owen both hum in agreement and get to their instruments. While Jeremy grabs his bass, Owen settles behind his drums. “1-2-3!” Owen counts us in, clapping his sticks together in the air and off we go. Even though we’ve practiced this song the most out of repertoire, it’s still a bit rough and not good enough for any music execs. Or Emily.

We spend a good portion of the day rehearsing the song, having minimal breaks for food and toilet visits. I think my bandmates might already be sick of me saying “it’s not good enough, it needs to be perfect!”. I’m not sure if I care about what they think. “We’re doing it one last time, Charlie. If it’s not perfect after that, I think you might just have to take the odds and hope it’s good enough for the music execs,” Owen says an hour before the Open Mic Night. He’s a great friend, but he can’t hide his annoyance from me. “Or Emily!” Jeremy adds, a bit too excitedly, pointing to me for emphasis. “Yeah, sure, or Emily,” Owen agrees with an eyeroll. “Fine, one more time.” I grumble and put all I have into the song. We’re definitely going to need a shower after we’ve packed everything up to get to the Music Store. If I say the nerves are really kicking in, I mean my heart is nearly thumping out of my chest and I’m very near death. I don’t get this nervous for any other gig we’ve ever had.

“Alright, let’s pack up!” Jeremy claps his hands when we’re finally done and lifts his bass over his head to put the instrument in its case. Even though I think we could do with one more try, I follow his example and place my electric guitar into its case. “Oh, no! Emily actually told me we could use the equipment they have there,” Owen informs us right on time. “Let’s just all go home, take a shower, get dressed and meet each other there, okay?” Jeremy and I glance at each other, place our instruments in their cases anyway, and then leave the garage. Once I’m showered and dressed for tonight; my grey ‘RUSH’ muscle tank and black skinny jeans will do. Or should I make a proper effort since I’m seeing Emily again? Then again, I’m going to sweat my balls off during the song, so it’s not like I’m actually going to look hot. No. This will do. In attempts to boost my confidence a little bit, I comb my fingers through my hair and mess it up a little bit, looking up into the mirror. I never wanted to be that person that gives myself pep-talks in a mirror, but here we are. “You can do this. Whatever happens, it’s good exposure for the band.” After taking another deep breath, I grab the stuff I need and leave the house. Once I get to the Music Store, something inside me stops me from going in. Something is holding me back. I’m not sure if it’s the nerves of the gig or the nerves of seeing Emily again. All I know is that I can’t go inside. “What are you waiting for, Char?” The familiar voice of Jeremy’s relaxes me a bit. I look through the window of the shop, immediately spotting the girl I’m afraid of seeing again. She has a smile on her face as she sweeps up the shop, getting it ready for the Open Mic Night. I think she’s talking to her co-worker. “Ah! That girl! I’ve given her a three cent tip the other day. I think she appreciated me.” I turn my head to look at Jeremy for a moment, wondering what’s going on in that head of his. That’s when I notice someone else has joined us too. “Do you want us to go in first?” Owen asks. He’s halted behind me and Jeremy, looking at what we’re looking at. “Yes, please,” I squeak out, then cough, “Yes, please,” I repeat in my normal voice. Owen and Jeremy head inside while I trail behind them. I’m not sure if I’m hiding or just don’t want her to see me straight away. “Oh, hey! You’re the Three Cents tipper!” Her happy voice sounds so much prettier than the one she uses on me when she puts up that tough façade. Not prettier than her singing voice though. “I didn’t know you guys were in a band together.” “I’m Jeremy, I play bass.” It’s silent for a moment, probably as she’s figuring out how a bass player and a drummer would form a band by themselves. “Where are we playing?” he doesn’t leave her the time to think about who’s missing. He knows that if she thinks about it long enough, she’ll know I’m the third member of the band. “In the back,” she points to an open double door at the back, “Ash will show you. I’ll be in in a minute.” How is she so abrasive whenever she’s with me but a completely different, sweet person when talking to them? What did I do wrong? I follow Owen and Jeremy, who are following after Ash. In my mind, I’m praying Emily wouldn’t recognize me from the back, but as soon as I take a step, I hear the voice she’s reserved just for me. “Thought it would be you.” I turn to face her with my best apologetic smile plastered on my face. “You were hiding from me, Charles?” She points to my bandmates, who’ve left me to my devices. “Uhm… Not technically… I just stood behind them and they’re taller than me, so…” I hope my excuse is plausible enough for her to believe. Then again, she’s not stupid. “Haven’t seen you stalking my store too much this past week.” Her voice is somehow softer. Somewhere between how she sounds when talking to Owen and Jeremy, and how she sounds when talking to me. “Yeah, no… Uhm, I’ve been busy… You know, writing songs by myself and stuff.” I don’t mean for it to come out so passive-aggressive, but I can’t help it either. “I mean—” I want to correct myself, but Emily interrupts me. “It’s fine, Charles. I don’t care,” that stings, “Don’t you have a soundcheck to get to?” “Uhm, yeah… I guess…” I look at her one last time for just a second before trailing behind my bandmates who are already settled behind their instruments. At least we had that.

By the time soundcheck is over, the room has filled up to the brim with people. Some of them look very professional, others are really here for just the music. My lungs clasp together due to the nerves now even more kicking in. “Ready, Char?” Owen claps his hand on my back. “Nope, I think I might die,” I would never be able to hide these nerves from the boys. “Let’s hope you come back as a ghost then,” Jeremy jokes – I think, “Ooh! Maybe we could start a ghost band!” I can’t help but chuckle at that, and neither can Owen. “Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to our monthly Open Mic Night!” Ash says into the microphone, her voice booming off the walls and filling the entire space. The crowd claps and cheers, but I doubt it’s because they know who’s coming. This is all Ash’s applause or maybe just excitement for some music. “First up, we have an up-and-coming band from our very own Los Feliz. Give it up for Sunset Cure!” I slowly turn my head to Owen, who’d told us he had made sure he changed the name. “I swear, I told her to correct it!” he says, holding up his hands in defense. When I look into the crowd and spot Emily in the back with the most mischievous grin on her face, I’m sure she did it on purpose to mess with me. As the three of us make our way onto the stage, surrounded by the excited cheers of the crowd, I glare at Emily at the back, but I can’t help but let a smile shine through. If this was her attempt to get rid of my nerves, it’s working because I’m distracted by all the questions about why she’d do this.     “It’s actually Sunset Curve,” I say into the mic, not taking my eyes off of Emily. The mischievous grin isn’t going away anytime soon, I think. And for some reason, it makes her even more sexy. I strum my guitar a little, and so does Jeremy with his bass until Owen counts us in and we start rocking out. All of the nerves that had built up inside of me have subdued. Mainly because I don’t take my eyes off of the girl standing at the back, looking at us with her arms crossed and the mischief still persistent on her face. “Take off, last stop Countdown till we blast open the top Face first, full charge Electric hammer to the heart” Jeremy and Owen join in for backing vocals on the next part of the verse. “Clocks move forward But we don't get older, no Kept on climbing Till our stars collided” Jeremy and Owen now stop, leaving me to sing the next few lines by myself. “And all the times we fell behind Were just the keys to paradise” The chorus is for all three of us, our voices blending together nicely. “Don't look down 'Cause we're still rising up right now And even if we hit the ground We'll still fly Keep dreaming like we'll live forever But live it like it's now or never” While singing, I don’t tear my eyes off of Emily. I think I even caught a smile during that chorus. “Hear the noise, in my head It's calling out like a voice I can't forget One life, no regrets Catch up, got no time to catch my breath” I throw her a wink when Jeremy walks up to me to sing the pre-chorus with me into the same mic, as we do pretty much every show. It gets the most cheers, most of the time. “Clocks move faster Cause it's all we're after now, oh Won't stop climbing Cause this is our time, yeah” I push him away from me, focusing on Emily again. “When all the days felt black and white Those were the best shades of my life” We lapse into the chorus again and the crowd gets up from their chairs to dance along with us. Emily, however, stays put in the position I saw her in when the song started. Besides the occasional head-bop, she just stares with that mischievous grin and her arms crossed. “Don't look down 'Cause we're still rising up right now And even if we hit the ground We'll still fly Keep dreaming like we'll live forever But live it like it's now or never” As Owen takes the bridge, I walk to the edge of the stage to interact with the crowd. “We ain't searching for tomorrow” “Tomorrow,” Jeremy echoes. “'Cause we got all we need today” “Today” goes Jeremy again as I walk back to my microphone. “Living on a feeling that's been running through our veins,” I sing. “We're the revolution that's been singing in the rain,” Jeremy’s high note sends shivers down my spine, and I almost forget to move away from the microphone to do my favorite part. Owen and Jeremy move from their mics too, and all of us stop playing the instruments, shouting the first part of the chorus into the crowd whilst clapping our hands. Thankfully, the crowd obeys and claps along with us. “Don't look down 'Cause we're still rising up right now” We pick up our instruments and move behind our microphones again, finishing up the song. “And even if we hit the ground We'll still fly Keep dreaming like we'll live forever But live it like it's now or never It's now or never.” The crowd erupts into explosive applause and cheers. But all I see is Emily, slow-clapping her way towards us, but stops when she reaches the last row of the crowd. I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips as Owen and Jeremy join me for a bow. “That was explosive, you guys!” Ash says into the mic as she runs up the stage again. “Sunset Curve, everybody!” The applause doesn’t die down yet, instead, it just grows louder. “Tell your friends!” Jeremy yells, earning even more cheers from the ladies on the first row. The three of us walk off stage as Ash announces the next artist. The second I walk into the crowd; my eyes are scanning ferociously for any sign of Emily. “Sunset Curve,” a stranger approaches us, “My name’s Bob, I’m looking for hot new talent such as yourself,” he shakes hands with all of us, but I’m only half there. Emily is in the store again, cleaning up and sorting through stuff. It’s when I realize I don’t care what Bob over here thought. I need to know what Emily thought. “Yeah, yeah, just a second, Bob,” I say, not even looking at him and making my way to the store without saying another word or waiting for a response from Bob or any of the guys. “Hey,” I greet once I’ve approached the girl in the Music Store. It feels exactly the same as it did when I first met her, and she just sang that beautiful song. The nerves kicking in again, my hands getting clammy and my throat closing up. Exactly like that first day. “Ah, Rockstar,” she mumbles, not even awarding me with a glance. She does recognize my voice, though. That’s a plus. “That wasn’t half bad out there.” I raise an eyebrow at her. “Half bad?” I ask, “Ems, me and my band rocked it out there.” If she’s surprised by the nickname, she doesn’t show it. I’m surprised myself that I used it. “Eh.” There’s that mischievous grin of hers again. Something tells me that means she doesn’t mean a word she says. I follow after her like an obedient puppy as she walks towards the piano again to sort through her sheet music. From over her shoulder, I can see my crumbled up paper sticking out of the bundle. “I think you liked our song, but you’re just too shy to tell me,” my mouth says without permission of my brain. She turns her head to me, giving me a sharp glare. “Sure, you tell yourself that, Charles.” I shake my head at her while she walks away from me again. “Can I help you with anything else? I still got work to do.” I bite my lip to make sure my mouth doesn’t go off without permission of my brain again. Because there are so many things I want to tell her. “Hey Emily!” Owen’s voice sounds from behind me, and when I turn my head, I find both bandmates standing beside me. Emily turns her head at the sound of Owen’s voice, a smile immediately turning her scowl reserved for me upside down. “Oh hey boys! You killed it out there!” My mouth drops open as I glance from my bandmates to Emily and back. “But—you,” I point to Emily, “W—me, Huh? What?!” All I get from her is that mischievous grin again. I knew she liked the song. Why can’t she just tell me the truth? She’s messing with me. “Thanks, girl!” Jeremy says with the widest grin on his face. “She’s nice, isn’t she, Char?” He pats me on the back, pointing to Emily for emphasis. “Yeah, very nice,” now it’s my time to scowl at her. “We just wanted to thank you for giving us a head’s up about this Open Mic thing,” Owen chimes in to simmer things down a little. “We had a very important guy talking to us just now.” I know the snarky emphasis on his words are directed at me, but I can’t be bothered to care. I just want to know what Emily’s deal is. Why can’t she warm up to me like she did to Owen and Jeremy? “Oh, that’s so good! But if it’s Bob, don’t believe him.” The boys and I glance at each other with wide eyes. “It was Bob, wasn’t it?” All three of us nod our heads in response. “Yeah, he’s a scammer. We try to keep him out, but he always manages to weasel his way back in.” “That’s why Ash came between us,” Owen now realizes. “Yeah…” Emily trails off, “Sorry, guys.” “Oh, it’s fine! At least you liked our song!” Jeremy says excitedly, “So much so you might join our band? Charlie over here tells us you’re an amazing singer-songwriter.” He pats my shoulder again. Emily’s smile falters, her eyes growing sadder with the second. She glances up at me. “I’m sorry, guys. I can’t do that. I – uhm… If I told you I had a really decent reason that I can’t talk about, would you believe me?” At least this answer is a bit less harsh than what she’s given me the other day. “So she is a witch!” Jeremy whispers with wide eyes. “What?” Emily’s sad face makes room for a confused face. Exactly the face Owen and I pull every day at least fifty times. “She’s not a witch, Jere!” I tell him off with an eyeroll. “We believe you have a good reason not to join our band,” Owen replies to Emily, “If you change your mind, we’ll welcome you with open arms.” His words seem to put that gorgeous smile of hers back on her pretty face. I sometimes forget how beautiful she really is until she smiles like that. With her long, dark hair pulled up into a ponytail that cascades alongside her neck, and her magical dark eyes with a fleck of green. I think she might just be the most beautiful girl I ever did see. “Thanks, I’ll try to remember that.” She glances at me and for once, her smile doesn’t turn back into a scowl. There’s a fuzzy, warm feeling in my chest. One that calms my heart down. One that seems to solve all of my problems at once. “See you around, Emily,” Owen taps the counter and turns around to make his way to the door. Jeremy throws up a peace sign whilst muttering a “Bye” and following behind Owen, leaving me with her. “Thanks for telling us about the Open Mic,” I tell her, pointing to the now closed double door with the music streaming out of it. “I guess I’ll see you around.” I raise my hand in a wave and turn around to go and find my bandmates again. “Hey,” her voice stops me halfway there, “Don’t be a stranger, okay?” I turn my face and get rewarded with an actual, genuine smile from Emily. It even turns the corners of my mouth upwards. “See you, Charles.” Still calling me Charles. “Right, yeah,” I wave again, “See you, Ems.” I still catch a glimpse of a blush before I head out the door to find my bandmates waiting for me. “She liked our music?” Owen tries to cheer me up, even though that’s not necessary. I’ve been rewarded with the most beautiful, genuine smile from the most beautiful woman on this planet. I don’t need cheering up. “I’m sure she’ll join our band in no time,” says Jeremy with a reassuring smile. Even if she does, she’s not that abrasive towards me anymore. She even gave me a smile. A smile. From Emily.

Taglist: @parkeret​ @lukeys-giggle​ @hannahhistorian92​

Lemme know if you want to be on my taglist for this story/any of my other works!

[yourlocallivingdead]

The tale of Quasimodo.

I am so unbelievably happy

You see this cactus?

This moth eaten cactus, lovely child that's doing his best?

He comes from my mom's work, when one of her co-workers decided to go on vacation and never came back.

He only bloomed the one time when she'd gotten him, then never again.

Understandable, considering he lived in an office with no proper sunlight.

My mom brought him home when she got fired, and I decided to take care of him since my mom was really in a bad place over it, and kind of saw him as a reminder.

She said, after six years of having him, she'd never seen him bloom.

But I put him in a window that got partial sunlight, loosened up his roots (best I can do, since we don't have the money for a pot), and he started getting new growth.

Then, since our old apartment had shit windows, it suddenly fell and basically guillotined him.

Then during a storm he fell out the window, and down the street.

He's been through a lot.

But look at him. Look closely.

MY SON HAS A FLOWER BUD.

I am more emotionally invested than I should be, and cried and freaked I am so God damn proud of you, you little baby boy!!!

Now I'm just thinking how the demon bros would be reacting to an MC that gets all excited over her human world plant recovering enough to flower.

And some just being really weirded out???

Liiiike ..

Lucifer

Team has no idea what you're on about

He knew you liked plants - your room in the house was covered in them, after all, but you were getting so excited??

Over something plants did naturally?

When you explain your plan'ts harrowing past he's more confused??

This is a plant??? And you're talking about him as if he's one of the sentient ones in the forest behind the house???

But then he sees that look in your eyes. Really, really sees it. The sparkling pride in your eyes, the way you delicately and tenderly caressed the bud...

It was endearing. So, so endearing.

So he pat you on the head while shaking his own.

"I don't really get it... But I'm proud of you and your plant."

Jeez, the teary eyed, happy look on your face was something he was not prepared for. His heart... By golly, it felt so warm.

Mammon

Honestly, he had no idea why you were so happy.

But it was contagious. So, so contagious.

This man is 10/10 supportive of this little plant child and his weirdly excitable S/O, he loves you so much.

Next day he goes to Barbatos and asks about getting soil from the human world and a new pot for the growing boy, cause Lucifer thinks it's silly.

You're ecstatic gratitude makes him so damn happy!

Leviathan

Look, you helped him in his hour of need - Henry wasn't doing well, and upon hearing that he was, in fact, a human world goldfish...

You'd schooled him, gently, on how to properly take care of one.

A goldfish his size needed a 20 gallon tank. Done, easy.

He needed a filter. Also done.

Fresh water, treated with a few drops of purifier and let to sit to get to room temperature.

He got even happier when you suggested getting him a placostomus friend, a little suckerfish that would help with keeping his tank clean.

And Henry was right as rain within a few days. He even learned how to water cycle instead of having to remove him to clean the tank.

He LOVES that you get so passionate about taking care of even the smallest things..

Especially when you go into detail about this little plants history, all determined to make it better... It's his kind of anime story. Against all odds, you WILL save this plant!!

So when you pull him into your room, face bright red, and pointing ecstatically to the little bud he's right there with you.

"OOOOAHAHAH!!!!" He takes so many pictures and updates his social media about it.

He hugs you and is so, SO proud of you!!!

OF COURSE the one who saved Henry 2.0 would be able to bring a little cactus back to life!!!

He orders you new pots and more soil for him the second you're wondering if you need to get him a bigger one. Many... Many varieties. Cause he wanted to make sure you could pick out the best one for the super good boy!!!

Asmodeus

Asmodeus loves all things beautiful, so honestly he hated that cactus.

It couldn't even bloom, and it looked so... Sad.

But you were so determined to nurse it back to health, so he rolled his eyes and pat you on the head.

Then... It actually bloomed and Asmo lost his mind.

You actually did it!!!

It was a small bud, but he was so, so excited to see what a human world flower is going to look like.

When it did bloom, he thought it was cute! Modest, but the prettiest shade of pinkish purple...

Cute, pretty, resilient.. just like his MC.

He praised you for your green them and determination, giving you soft kisses and adorations.

It teaches him to see the beauty in things - and from now on he's right there with you when you're tending to the plants instead of lining for attention.

Satan

At first, he's with Asmodeus when he sees your determination to take care of what surely looks like a lost cause.

But he sees it get better gradually, and is mildly invested, though is confused when he realizes it.

Even more confused when you refuse to let him use magic to help it - you're too worried about the effect it might have.

When you suddenly bring it to him and show him the bud his reaction is level headed. He smiles, and gives you a gentle pat on the head.

"I was wrong to doubt you... You did a good job, kitten..."

Oh God that sparkling look in your eyes when he took his hand away.... He had to put his hand back on your head for more pats to hide his blushing face.

Beelzebub

Being someone in the Devildom that's passionate about plants is kind of rare - the only other person he knows of like that is Barbatos, so it's one of those things that's really endearing to him about you.

You were so gentle with them... Gently talking to them when you watered them, pruning them carefully, it was so sweet... He'd watch you with a fondness on his face while he munched on some berries you'd grown.

When you suddenly cried out in surprise he jumped slightly.

"BEEL HE HAS A BUD!!!"

"Huh?"

"Quasi!! He has a bud, look!!" You pointed at the little bud, practically glowing with excitement.

His eyes widened slightly. "Oh!" He smiled at you, "Good job!" He was rewarded with you vibrating in happiness like a little puppy being td they were being a good boy.

It made him love you so much more...

Belphegor.

Being with you when you were tending to your plants was one of his favorite times.

You crooned gently and spoke to them in a soft voice that was nice to fall asleep to.

When you were tending to him and he was just about to sleep he heard you gasp - and opened an eye bleerily to see.

"Belphie, look," you said, taking the plant to him and pointing at the bud, "He has a bud..!!" A soft voice was always a must around Belphie, and you obliged.

"huh... So he does..." He said lazily,not getting the importance.

"This is Quasimodo - don't judge me, I see you judging me... He never blooms! Not in years!" You pouted, "My mom's co-worker didn't really take care of him that well.. but look!! He's got a bud!!"

Belphegor rolled his eyes, sighing and lazily plopping his hand on your head in a head pat motion. "How could he not...? With that sweet voice of yours..." He smirked, knowing with how you squirmed you were blushing.

"Now put the plant down... Let's take a nap..."

Now that he knows how passionate you can get, he takes more notice of how you interact with them. He even, much to his own mild embarrassment, starts learning their names...

Great. The human is wearing off on him... Not that he minds.

[cookingrespesshow]

Get Your Book Done Now

I don’t believe in writer’s block. (I can hear the gasps of disbelief already.) Listen: If you hire a plumber to come to your house and fix a problem, do you expect him to say, “Sorry, I can’t figure out what your problem is. I think I have plumber’s block”? Probably not, and if he did, you’d toss him out and call another guy faster than you can say Drano. Not that plumbing can be compared to writing, but if we follow the proper steps to get the job done, I find that writer’s block melts away, the drains are unclogged, and the words start flowing like water from a faucet. But what are these “steps”? Well, a big part of my job as a book marketing specialist is to help people create something they can actually market: a finished book. Many of us have ideas aplenty but not a clue how to get them down on paper.

Unlike other professions, authors operate under a whole different set of rules. We often can’t just sit down and pound out a story, and those who do have created their own formula for doing so. We see this huge story with all sorts of directions we want to take it, we see the cover, we see the characters, we see the market potential. Then we see Katie Couric or Oprah smiling and holding up our book for the whole world to see. Then we glance back down at our monitor and see a tormenting blinking cursor and blank screen. And we are again reminded of what a failure we are. We have all these stories and nothing on paper. We are idea generators. We have zillions of them running through our minds, but none of them on paper. Unless you make your money in a think tank, operating this way probably isn’t getting you any closer to your goals.

When a project looms before us, it’s like this big elephant — huge, overwhelming and ready to stomp us flat any minute. There’s an old saying: “How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.” The same is true for writing. You finish a book, one step at a time. But to create these steps, you first have to break down your book into manageable, bite-size pieces. This can be accomplished by creating a TOC (table of contents) that can guide you through the book. My reasoning behind this is as follows: You’d never think of driving from California to New York without a map, right? Well, how can you expect to finish your book without one? Your TOC is your roadmap, guiding you through your book. If your chapters don’t have individual headings, then write a 2-3 sentence description of what the chapter encompasses. Don’t get too elaborate on this. Remember, it’s not going in your book; it’s just a brief descriptor. Once the TOC is outlined, you’ll have a vision of your book from start to finish.

A few things that creating this TOC will do for you: It will show you any gaps in your story that might need to be fleshed out, and it will give you a sense of completion, of seeing the book or project actually done, and this is a serious psychological turn-on for most authors, because we often live in a world of half-completed projects. Sometimes this step alone can propel an author enough to get their book done, or at the very least give it a darned good kick-start.

Once you’ve developed your TOC, you’ll want to go through it and create a “to do” list. Regardless of what genre your book is, you will always have a to-do list. Whether it’s getting endorsements, doing research, or getting approvals for quotes or excerpts for your book, this to-do list will become yet another item that will help propel your book toward completion.

Once the to-do list is done, set it aside. Now you should have your completed TOC with a vision of the entire book and a growing list of items that will need to be handled for the book to get done. Now the real fun begins.

Some books on writing will tell you to set aside a day or two a week, or an evening here and there to get your book completed. I disagree with this theory, and here’s why: You need to stay dialed into your topic. When I was working on an upcoming book, I would often put the project aside for days or weeks at a time, promising myself to schedule time ��as soon as I could.” Well, that rarely happened. What I found is that if I set aside some time every day to do something on the book, I got it completed a lot quicker.

The more you keep your hands in your project, the more it will stay at the front of your mind and on your radar screen, and the more energy you will invest to finish it. I won’t tell you to set aside hours of your time each day — in fact, you don’t even have to set aside an hour. Take 15 minutes, or even five — whatever your schedule permits. If this seems like a ridiculously short amount of time, consider this: You now have your to-do list and your outlined TOC! . If you are short on time one day, pick a quickie item from your to-do list and get it done. If you have more time, then pound out a chapter or two. The idea behind creating the to-do lists and a TOC is to not only give your project a structure, but to also eliminate any and all excuses for getting it done. Don’t feel like writing today? No problem. There’s probably a mountain of research just waiting to be traversed. Get the picture?

But let’s say you can’t even get through the TOC. “My book has too many layers,” you lament. “Too many back stories, tons of stuff going on. I can’t possibly be expected to filter it down into a neat little TOC.” Yes, you can, and you must. If your book has no focus, your book will have no focus. It’s as simple as that. But it doesn’t stop there — if your book is all over the place and you do actually manage to get it done, you’ll never be able to keep a reader interested because you will be the only one who will get it, and what’s the point of that? What you’ll need to do in this case is find the “core” of your book or the focus of your story. Ask yourself this: What’s the one thing this book cannot do without? What’s the one thing this story circles around? That’s your core. If you’re still coming up with three or four things that your story circles around, you aren’t focused enough and neither is your book. Find that one thing and build your story or book around it.

If you follow these steps, your book will get finished quicker than you could have ever imagined. And the once-dreaded writer’s block will go from a stumbling block to a building block.

[askkrenko]

Krenko’s Guide to Pokemon: Meowth Line

THAT’S RIGHT!

DESIGN:  

Meowth’s basic design is very reminiscent of the classic “Lucky Cat,” but wearing its coin as a headdress rather than holding it. Also, Meowth is slimmer, lankier, and more active.  It’s a simple design, but it looks good, even if it’s obviously ‘generic cat.’

Alolan Meowth takes that design and makes it extra sassy, which is great. Meowth always had personality, but Alolan Meowth just has more of it. It’s still the lucky money cat, but now it knows it’s cool. Alolan Meowth is behind the gym smoking cigarettes. And your mom told you not to hang out with him but you’re going to anyway.

Look at that guy. He’s not rich because he’s lucky. He’s rich because he’s shoplifting non-stop. 

And then there’s Galarian Meowth.

Galarian Meowth will fuck you up. It’s still clearly a Meowth, but it’s feral rather than pampered, hard and tough, with an excess of fur, and rather than having a gold coin, its coin is hard iron. It’s not there for luxury, it’s there to make weapons and armor out of.  Galarian Meowth is one of my favorite regional forms, though it does beg the question of when a regional form should start counting as a different Pokemon altogether. Meowth evolves into Persian in Kanto and Alola, and I gotta say... I don’t like Persian. It’s just a cat. It does cat things. It’s boring, it’s uninteresting, and while the forehead gem is something, it doesn’t really feel like a natural evolution of Meowth’s coin as it would if it were more distinctly gem-like instead of just being round.  Giving the gem a proper cut could’ve gone a long way here, and yes, that detail would have been hard to show in the first game, but just making it diamond-shape instead of round would’ve screamed “What once was gold is now a ruby.”  Losing the coloration on its feet and tail is a problem, too. It just looks so bland compared to Meowth.   Also, going from a biped to a quadruped seems kind of like a downgrade. 

Alolan Persian is... worse. Sorry, I have nothing good to say about it design-wise. It just looks like an uglier, stupider version of Persian. The color shift is fine, but it now has a fat face and that’s it. Also it’s more of a jerk somehow. Meowth to Persian is one of the worst evolution downgrades in Pokemon. I could respect Persian as its own Pokemon, but it’s hard to respect it as “evolved form of Money Cat.”

On the other hand... Perrserker is the greatest thing ever.  It looks like a stronger, tougher form of Galarian Meowth, with its Iron headpiece turning into a full helmet, and its claws combining into something sword-like. It is an angry, viking, dwarf cat, and it just looks like what Galarian Meowth should turn into. Everything about its design builds off Meowth, except it trades some of its goofiness and scrappiness for looking like it’s seriously ready to go to war.

The final Meowth form is Gigantimax Meowth which... is funny. Look, it’s not a good design, it’s not a reasonable design, and Meowth shouldn’t even really have a Gigantimax Form, but longcat is long, and that’s hilarious, so I’m just going to give it a pass. EVOLUTIONS:  You know what I love seeing? All three Meowth forms evolve at level 28. That’s it. It’s great. No muss no fuss.  Now, there is room for a third form in there, but we’ll get to whether it needs it later.  A baby version of Meowth was designed for gen 1 and slated for gen 2, but it was cut both times, which is good because Meowth is early game enough that there’s no need for a pokemon that’s just Meowth but weaker. G-Max Meowth exists, and it’s honestly the best example of a gimmick G-Max. While a lot of weak G-Max pokemon just have no use, G-Max Meowth’s special move, G-Max Gold Rush, just spits out coins, up to 99,999 each battle. I gotta say, I’ve used G-Max Meowth, not for competetive battles, but to fill up my pockets with dosh late game.

TYPING:  Kantonian Persian is a Normal type, whcih means Immunity to Ghost, Weakness to Fighting, and not strong against anything while being resisted by both Rock and Steel. It’s just not a strong type, and it’s mostly good for bulky, defensive Pokemon that get a lot more out of only having one weakness than they lose from not having any type coverage. Persian is not that Pokemon. Alolan Persian is Dark type, which is generally better. Three weaknesses, two resistances, and an immunity, though it’s only super effective against two types and resisted by three.  It’s fine overall, but nothing special. Perrserker is a Steel type. Steel is the best type in the game, bar none. Ten resistances and one immunity just makes any Steel Pokemon with stats that matter hard to kill. And it’s coverage isn’t that bad, super effective on three types and resisted by four.  STATS:  Persian and Alolan Persian have 5 sub-par stats and good speed. The thing is, speed 115 may be a lot, but when you’re attacking at 70 (Kantonian) or special attacking at 75 (Alolan), going first isn’t enough to win the day.  Perrserker, on the other hand, eschews speed in favor of having 110 attack and significantly higher Defense than Persian. While its stat total is the same 440, having high defense and Steel Type means it can take hits far better, and its high attack stat means getting hit by Perrserker actually hurts. ABILITIES:  Kantonian Persian has limber (immunity to paralysis) and Unnerve (opponent can’t eat berries) but it’s strongest ability is Technician. Technician increases the base power of moves of 60 power or less by 50%, meaning Bite is suddenly better than Crunch and Theif’s suddenly an actual attack and... uhh... ... umm...  This ability would be a lot better if Persian had more attacks at 60 power. Well, it buffs Fake out from 40 to 60 at least, and free damage is free damage. Alolan Persian also gets Technician, but isn’t any better with it. It’s hidden ability, Rattled, increases its speed if it’s hit by a Bug, Ghost, or Dark move or if an opponent uses Intimidate on it, which is... mediocre. Weak to Ghost and with poor defenses, that’ll likely just kill it, though it does resist Dark... But its speed is already high enough that an ability that sometimes raises its speed isn’t going very far.

Its final ability,  Fur Coat, gives it actual competence. Fur Coat doubles its defense. That’s it.  Going from base 60 defense to base 120 defense is huge, even before factoring in defense from IVs, EVs, etcetera.  This is the only ability worth having on Alolan Persian. Comparatively, the other two abilities are nothing. And this isn’t even the Hidden Ability. Perrserker has three abilities, two of which are very similar. Its first ability, Battle Armor, protects it from Critical Hits. It’s not fancy, and it is decent, but the other two options are simply better.  Tough Claws increases the power of all of Perrserker’s attacks that make contact by 30%, which is frankly a lot of them, while Steely Spirit increases the power of its Steel Type moves by 50%. Obviously, it’s only going to have one Steel attack in a normal build, and as this is Iron Head, it will gain the boost from Tough Claws as well... So here it’s more of a meta question which you want: The strongest STAB attack possibly with an effective base 120 Iron Head, or more power spread out on your other moves.

MOVES: Kantonian Persian has slightly higher Attack than Special Attack, but not by much, so the fact that it learns Nasty Plot means there’s incentive to build it as a Special Attacker.  Alolan Persian always wants to be a Special Attacker.

Even with Technician, Persian’s attack lineup just isn’t great. It can use Fake Out for free STAB damage, which is nice, but after that, a physical build is relying on Body Slam for its STAB damage, which isn’t exactly the best, though the chance to paralyze is nice. Then for coverage, Bite and Play Rough are options, as is Gunk Shot, but there’s really nothing special going on here.  U-Turn allows a hit with the switch, but it’s still only a 70 power hit. Persian did have some better attacks, like Double-Edge and Return, in previous generations, but those are currently missing from its lineup.  All in all, Persian’s moveset doesn’t really do anything physically.  For Special Attacking, Persian can learn Nasty Plot.  The only Special move it gets via level-up is Power Gem, which is pretty poor unless you really need the coverage. On Kantonian Persian, Hyper Voice is your STAB Special, while Alolan uses Dark Pulse.   For special attacks, Shadow Ball and Thunderbolt add some nice coverage, and Technician can turn Icy Wind into an actual attack.  Persian can also learn Foul Play, which is a solid, if sometimes unreliable, Dark Attack that doesn’t require investment in the Attack stat. Alolan Persian can get Parting Shot, which reduces the enemy’s Attack and Special Attack before switching out. With its speed, this will often mean weakening an attack before your other Pokemon takes it. Honestly, I think most of what I’d want to do with a Persian would just be to annoy the opponent and get in some free damage. Fake Out, Foul Play, U-Turn or Parting Shot, and Body Slam or Dark Pulse in case staying in seems reasonable.  With Persian’s Speed, Fake Out and U-Turn/Parting Shot will often just be two free hits every time you have to switch Pokemon. Perrserker, on the other hand, is a physical attacker with physical attacks. Iron Head is its obvious Steel attack. U-Turn is U-Turn, I don’t think I need to keep justifying ‘get a hit in when switching’ except here it’s ‘with an actual attack stat and maybe an ability to do +30% damage.’  Close Combat offers some great coverage and a lot of raw power, and Seed Bomb, Gunk Shot, and Play Rough are all great attacks, too. 

And if you’re feeling cocky, Perrserker can get Swords Dance. On the other hand, if you’re feeling worried, Amnesia plugs Perrserker’s low Special Defense to let it tank longer. 

Generally, I think Iron Head, U-Turn, Close Combat, and whatever other move you need for coverage on your team is the way you want to go.

And if it’s 2v2, hey, Perrserker gets Fake Out, too. OVERALL:  Kantonian Persian is a very weak Pokemon, with abilities that don’t help it and a move pool that isn’t really built for anything. Alolan Persian is a lot better, primarily thanks to Fur Coat, but also by having Parting Shot with high speed, allowing it to repeatedly mess with enemies.  But they’re also both really stupid pokemon that are just ‘lawl I’m a cat’ and don’t have anything interesting in their designs even though the Meowths are so cool. Perrserker’s all around solid and exactly where it needs to be. Its already high attack is bolstered by a +Attack pair of abilities, its high Defense stat is bolstered by Steel type, so it can hold its own without trying anything tricky just as long as nobody sets it on fire.  Or knows Earth Power. It does not fare well against Earth Power.

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

ok! so i was listening to does your mother know that your out, right? and at the same tine a video of angelina jolie came into my feed, you know her being iconic. and so i started thinking 👀 a smut where like a 22 year old rami is like being cheeky and flirty with a woman older than him, she at first is indifferent to him, which gets him super nervous. so now she started to take an interest in him, which gets him even more nervous and her more confident. and she has super bde and don vibes

I was in the middle of a Papi/Dega request when this came into my inbox and captured my muse ... and I mean threw a pillowcase over its head and threw it in the back of a van and MADE me write this. Thank you, Anon, for this brilliant request.

* * * * *

Rami was captivated by her, and so were most of the men, and a few women, at the afterparty. Granted, he was new to this side of the acting scene having just finished a minor role in a fairly big stage production in New York City, so instead of walking up to the woman and jostling for a place in her queue, he stayed back and watched.

He felt out-of-place, not at all filled with the confidence he had in LA. Yeah, LA was LA, after all, but he knew people there, and he knew enough about how Hollywood worked to fit in.  

Here . . . for maybe the first time in his life, he was the odd man out.

As Rami turned away from the beautiful woman and shuffled over to the bar, a flash of a scene from his and Sami’s favorite novel, The Great Gatsby, popped to the forefront of his thoughts.

When Nick felt out of place, he got roaring drunk. Sounds like a plan to me, Rami thought, his 22-year-old self feeling more at ease knowing he was about to rely on good, old-fashioned liquid courage.

Rami ordered a beer and a double shot of tequila.

One tequila, two tequila, floooor, his mind sang to himself as he ordered another round of each, his initial wave of discomfort beginning to wane.

By the time he finished round three, he knew he had to talk to the beautiful stranger. Clearly, she was someone of importance, maybe even someone famous.

Rami stood up from his barstool, and wobbled, which wasn’t unusual. There was rarely a time in his life when he didn’t have a bruise or a cut from falling down or running into something. Sami had clearly gotten the balance gene.

Rami missed his brother terribly, never imagining they would be living in different cities. He looked to his left and sighed, wondering what Sami would say if he saw his twin, Rami Malek, high school flirt, afraid to talk to a woman.

Shoot your fucking shot, Ram. Why wouldn’t she want to get to know you? his brother’s logical voice sounded in his mind.

“Shoot my shot,” he said under his breath as he made his way to the more crowded part of the room and began looking for the woman.

He didn’t have to look long, and he also couldn’t believe his luck: there she was, standing alone and looking at a large fishtank that was in a darkened corner of the room, the only real light coming from the tank itself.

His balls in his throat, he walked quickly to where she was standing, reminding himself to put one foot in front of the other, lest he fall flat on his face.

His brother would be in stitches if that happened, and the entire family would know within the hour.

But Rami made it, right-side-up, and before he could lose all his nerve, he blurted out, “Nice fish, huh?”

The woman glanced over at him, a bit startled.

“Oh, yes. They are. I always lose myself in my thoughts when I watch them swim. I don’t know exactly why I find it so soothing.”

Rami just stared at her as she spoke, completely smitten. Her speech was so articulate, definitely that of a fine stage actress.

Or someone very, very wealthy, Rami thought, once again thinking back to his favorite novel.

The woman looked at him, clearly expecting him to reply, but he couldn’t find the words.

“Uh . . . huh,” he managed, still studying her face.

She was older than him, but by how much he wasn’t sure—at least a decade. Her face held a sort of vitality that was hypnotic. This was a woman who lived her life by her own accord, a woman who knew things, a woman who held the promise of things that were just . . . good.

“I do apologize, but have we met?” she asked, bringing Rami out of his stupor.

“Uh . . . uh, no. I don’t think we have. I’m an actor. I was in the production,” he finished lamely.  

She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then said, “Johnny. You were Johnny.”

Rami looked at her, taken aback that she made the connection.

“Yeah. Yeah, I was. I’m—” he faltered.

She raised her brow, encouraging him to continue.

“I’m surprised you knew that.”

“It’s my business to know, Mr. . . . Malek, I believe.”

Rami gave her the same quizzical look, and this time she laughed. In that moment, he thought that if he could only listen to one more sound for the rest of his life, it would be her laugh.

“Rami. My name’s Rami,” he said sticking out his hand.

She slid hers gracefully into his, but her grip was strong, professional.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N, and I’m pleased to officially meet you, Rami Malek.”

No, no. If I could only listen to one more sound for the rest of my life, it would be her saying my name, he thought.

“Do you mind if I ask . . . what it is you do?”

“I do many things, Rami, but my connection to this particular evening is a financial one.”

“An investor,” he stated, nodding his head to indicate he was impressed.

“The investor,” she replied. “If I’m going to do something, I do it. When it comes to the theater, if I’m going to invest, I’m going to be the sole investor. That way, a production feels more like it’s . . . mine. I hope that doesn’t sound arrogant. I’m not an actor, but I love the process. This is as close as I can get to the stage without making a Bottom out of myself,” she said with a smirk as she referenced A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Rami chuckled, and teased, “With jokes like that, I can see why you stay out of the spotlight.”

She laughed, and it was clear she was surprised she laughed so freely with this very young, very handsome stranger.

“Y/N!” called the producer of the play. “I’ve got someone I’m dying for you to meet.”

Before the producer could whisk her away, she leaned into Rami and said, “I don’t normally do this, but I’d like to talk to you again. Here’s my card,” she said as she reached into her clutch.

“Call me. And maybe next time you won’t need six tequila shots before you pluck up the courage to talk to me,” with a wink and a ghost of a touch along his jaw, she was gone, swallowed again by people who just wanted the privilege of being near her.

Rami looked into the crowd, gobsmacked that she had been watching him, too.

* * * * *

With a throaty laugh, she kicked off her heels as Rami backed her into the wall as soon as they were secured in her large apartment. Rami had never been in a place so luxurious, and normally he would have liked to have a look around, but the feeling of this woman’s body under his hands damn near made his brain short-circuit.

Over the past few days, he had learned that she was not just a decade older than him, but two and a few odd years. He had also learned that she was intelligent, passionate, sophisticated, and could make him harder than he had ever been in his entire life with no more than a casual glance. His near-constant erections were proving to be a very difficult barrier to overcome, considering the amount of time they had been spending taking in shows, dining out, and going to a myriad of high-society events.

When she asked him to come up for a nightcap, he had to discreetly adjust himself as he followed her into the elevator. And as soon as the doors closed, she grabbed his lapels, pulled him to her, and kissed him, a soft, sweet kiss that somehow still made his toes curl.

“Do you want that nightcap?” she breathed against his lips, ever the proper hostess.

“No, thank you,” Rami murmured as he moved her hair to the side and attached his lips to her neck.

She laughed, that sweet, soft laugh that made him think of a gentle rain falling in the morning.

“Then perhaps we should take this to the bedroom,” she said, pulling away and taking his hand to lead him down a long hallway and up a set of stairs.

His trousers were uncomfortably tight as he watched the way her ass moved in her pretty dress as she climbed the spiral staircase, quickly and eloquently since she had left her shoes by the door.

Rami glanced around the room and once again couldn’t believe that his life was currently real, that this was happening, that he was about to have sex with the most beautifully intriguing woman he had ever met.

They made quick work of each other’s clothes and she hummed with appreciation at his body. He was lean, but not from effort. Life in the city that never sleeps was difficult, and between looking for roles, rehearsing for the ones he did manage to get, and working odd jobs to earn enough money to keep under a roof, eating wasn’t much of a priority.

She, on the other hand, was fit, classically attractive if you will, but not in an overdone way. She did look closer to her age than to Rami’s, except for her confidence and her passion. She knew who she was, loved herself, and because of that, her confidence and passion shone, and quite literally, made her beautiful.

She turned down the bed in a rush, sliding into the middle of her cloud-soft sheets. Rami settled between her legs and kissed her with all the passion he felt, which was so much that it left her breathless.

“Drawer,” she husked out, waving in the direction of the nightstand.

Rami reached over and pulled out the box of condoms, quickly rolling one on.

She took advantage of his lack of balance and rolled him onto his back, grinning down at him as she lowered herself onto his covered cock.

Rami groaned, a deep rumble that reverberated through his chest. He wanted to watch her, but his eyes rolled back at the incredible sensation of being inside of her for the first time. He wanted to savor it, but she began to move, rocking her hips and pulling his hands from her thighs to her breasts.

Rami opened his eyes and watched as she squeezed his hands around her breasts and when he looked up at the way her head was tossed back in bliss and the way her bottom lip was caught between her teeth, all because she was mounted on his cock, he lost control.

And in an embarrassingly quick culmination of passion, Rami came inside the condom with a whimper.

Immediately, his hands covered his face as he groaned, praying to GOD that the bed would swallow him whole.

“I am so sorry,” he mumbled from underneath his palms.

“Sorry for what?” she said with a laugh. “For finding me so attractive that you stayed in the moment and gave yourself over to passion instead of disconnecting by reciting . . . what do actors recite? Lines from a monologue? I’m guessing it’s not the usual sports statistics?”

Rami lifted his hands from his face and looked up at her; his cheeks were red, either from his intense orgasm or from his intense mortification.

Before he could apologize again, she put her finger to his lips.

“Stop agonizing over a beautiful moment. Do you know how good that made me feel knowing how excited I made you?”

Rami finally gave her a small smile, though it was evident he still felt ashamed.

With a roll of her eyes and a sigh, she grasped the base of his cock where she felt the condom and let his softened dick slide out of her. Carefully, she pulled it off of him and moved off the bed to toss it in the trash.

“Now that we’ve gotten that,” she said gesturing to his limp cock, “out of the way, we can concentrate on real pleasure.

“Is there anything you know you don’t like to do in the bedroom?” she asked, her head cocked to the side.

“Uh . . . I don’t think so?” Rami said with hesitation.

“If you want me to stop anything at any time, just say stop. Okay?”

Rami nodded, his lips parted as he intently watched her.

“Your eyes are going to make you a star,” she said, her head still cocked to the side as she returned his gaze.

He blinked as he blushed, a slight red flush creeping up his neck.

“Well,” she began as she rummaged in her drawer until she withdrew a small tube of lubricant, “when you’re young, you’re awfully resilient. Not to knock men my own age, but they tend to have a lack of stamina. Nature’s fault, of course, but women, well we really don’t reach our sexual prime until our 30s, even late 30s I dare say.”

Rami listened as she climbed back onto the bed, settling between his thighs. He wondered if he should feel awkward in this position, but as he watched her spread lubricant on her index finger, he felt his cock twitch.

“So, what that means, is that women end up with a significantly less amount of time to have great sex because they finally feel attractive enough to get a partner who meets their standards and because they finally know their bodies well enough to make demands of their lovers.”

She paused and shot him a seductive smile as she pressed her finger to his perineum and started to massage him.

“Jesus,” Rami moaned.

“Undisputedly a man. God, however . . . I like the sound of that,” she said in a low voice as she slipped her well-lubricated finger into Rami’s ass and brushed his prostate.

“Ohmy . . . GOD,” he cried out, his thighs jerking, but her body stopping them from slamming together.  

“That’s better,” she replied in that same low, sultry voice as she bent to take his dick in her mouth.

Rami’s cock hardened instantly, and he found himself filled with an intense need to fuck this woman senseless.

“St-sto-stop,” he managed, and she lifted her head and slowly extracted her finger.

Rami was animalistic in his movements; he sat up and flipped her onto her back, burying his face between her thighs. He wanted her soaking when he slid inside of her again, so when she began to give him directions, he responded to every single command.

He didn’t feel shy the second time they fucked.

Or the third.

Or the fourth.

By the time the morning light peeked through her windows and he positioned himself at her entrance for the fifth time, he felt like he really had found god.

And she was a woman.

[mlmiii]

@green-dragon-ramblings​ tagged me to add TRPG campaigns I’m DM’ing/characters I’m playing to the ask post from earlier so

Pokérole 2e Campaign (DM: Me, Playing: Sabrina Duncan):  This is one I’m wrapping up this week--I made a custom region and then ran out of steam around the fourth gym. I made the mistake of promising to do custom pixel art for all of the gym leaders the way I often do for my players’ characters. Unfortunately, I’m more of an illustrator than an artist, and I wasn’t giving myself enough of a character concept to work from on the gym leaders. Additionally, while Pokérole has stellar implementation of Pokémon Anime Combat, a party of four including my DMPC just breaks the system apart, as constant 4v4 Pokémon battles aren’t fun and all 4 players challenging the gym leaders and trainers in series has too much dead time for me to enjoy running it. As a Very Final Episode I’m letting them skip the remaining gyms and get straight to the Big Legendary Fricks Everything Up fight that the games have been doing since Hoenn, a couple cutscenes to properly contextualize the fight, and then doing the Champion fight for those still interested. The gist of the plot is that the native inhabitants of this central USA-inspired region fought and imprisoned some eldritch abominations just over a millennium ago and a Kalosian noble family is pulling a big enough British Museum of Natural History to unwittingly throw the sealing wards out of alignment, resulting in the Big Bads getting loose after the 6th gym. The party will be fighting 1 of the 4 abominations this Friday, and the other three will just be left in Sessions That Never Were because I’m too tired of how gym battles were working here to actually play out the whole thing. 

The character I played in that campaign is Sabrina Duncan, who started out with a Houndour and wound up with a team of Houndoom, Mandibuzz, Crawdaunt, Scolipede, Toxicroak, and Dragalge. She’s very much a biker girl archetype, and pretty quickly realized that she was the Team Mom by default, largely by virtue of being the oldest and most emotionally stable. As a DMPC, I frequently left her silent so the players could interact with the world, but she’s a fairly calm character anyway so it wasn’t too far off of how she’d normally be. Since Pokérole is about the Pokémon just as much as it is the characters, a brief rundown of her team:

Brimstone the Houndoom is the team sweeper, and a bit standoffish due to her Lonely nature. While her luck suffered some in gyms, her high Initiative, accuracy, and Evasion let her get away with being a glass cannon. 

Phosphate the Mandibuzz is the team’s support tank, with obnoxiously high defences, Tailwind to buff the party’s Dexterity, and Nasty Plot to get her own Special Attack up to workable levels. 

Deuterium the Crawdaunt is the team’s Ranger-esque skillmonkey, though he can technically off-tank reasonably well, which fits his Timid nature just fine. 

Cyanide the Scolipede is the physical counterpart to Brimstone’s artillery strikes, and unlike Brimstone, he’s had amazing luck in gyms. Given his relaxed nature, I played him as something of an Emotional Support Centipede to Deuterium, which is... not how Scolipedes usually are XD 

Formaldehyde the Toxicroak didn’t get a lot of screentime, but I was planning to have him be a luchador in Tough contests. He did manage to solo a Kingdra in the water gym as a Croagunk with some stellar luck though. 

Mercury the Dragalge similarly was cut short, but she was intended to be the team’s plague rat, throwing debuffs all over the place with Toxic, Smokescreen, Water Pulse, etc. 

Star Wars Saga Edition (DM: Friend from middle school, Playing: A9G-M028 “M0″ (pronounced “Mo”)):

M0 is an A9G Archival droid reprogrammed to be a field medic, and spent a few years as the property/coworker of a mercenary band up until a few months before the campaign, when a sudden engine failure in their airspeeder resulted in everyone being stabbed through the torso by the twisted metal of said airspeeder’s wreck. M0, being a droid, survived long enough to patch themself up, but had to watch hopelessly--while being a medical droid--as their crew/masters bled out slowly. M0 met up with the party over a run-in with Jabba’s water collection goons, and things... got out of hand. M0 just wanted to team up with these idiots to minimize casualties, and then suddenly there’s four dead gangsters, with another barely stunned unconscious. Highlights after include spending a session trying to get the gangsters a proper burial while the team planned the heist, accidentally burning Jabba’s summer home down while trying to escape the heist (I thought the room was made of sandstone! I left one loaf of bread and an egg, stacked on a pan b/c M0 doesn’t know how to cook, on the oven so the guards would get distracted with the smoke!), spending all night repairing a speeder only for the party to bring it listing back at 4hp, and getting in a theological debate with some Tusken Raiders about how a being with no mouth is supposed to partake in not-quite-Communion. Another thing of note is M0′s insistence on setting their pistol to Stun, despite that doing half damage to organics and no damage to droids--they’ve gotten a couple other party members in on the stun train, and with any luck we’ll be able to cash that good will in on some mercy returned if the party is ever captured. 

The Jawas we’ll be fighting next quest, however, will not get this mercy, as M0 considers their tendency to capture, memory wipe, and resell droids as profiting from both genocide and slavery. As it so happens, M0 has enough money to buy a low-end spaceship, and Jawa Sandships don’t have anti-air defences...

I don’t quite think the DM realized what happens when a droid with a strong moral compass is told to retrieve another droid from a Sandcrawler. 

Starfinder Campaign (DM: Me, not playing a character):  As someone who loves sci-fi and runs a lot of Pathfinder games, you’d think I’d love Starfinder, right?

Well, problem is, it’s kinda... bad. Unsalvageably bad. “Just do Pathfinder, but in space, using the Starfinder environmental and hacking rules while disregarding literally everything else there” bad. Originally I was going to do a custom campaign, but as enthusiasm bleedover from playing Rimworld started drying up when I realized that the genres didn’t match well enough to cut-and-paste gameplay rhythms, I decided instead to shift plotlines a bit and use the Dead Suns adventure path. We got through the first book (with some... notable absences here and there, since the party was both underleveled and unoptimized) before I put it on hiatus to run the Pokérole campaign, and now that I’m playing with timeskips, I plan to run the party through the interesting parts of the adventure path, with maybe some episodic sessions scattered here and there to allow for more character development, if the party gets invested enough. Once that’s done, I plan to get back to the other game I have on hiatus.

Pathfinder Play-by-Post Campaign (DM: Me, Playing: Morsel): On hiatus since December, since one of the players got busy with a more standard campaign, is a campaign I made into a play-by-post to work on without needing to deal with scheduling issues. If it weren’t for who I was playing in it, I’d’ve just let it die, but...

Well.

It’s Morsel. 

I’ve posted about Morsel before, and you can read her backstory there, but suffice to say that I’ve been trying to get this fungus child some freaking therapy since 2013 when I made her and I’m not about to stop just because one of my players went missing. Add to that that she didn’t talk to her parents before running away this time, and her lack of need of sleep meant that she heard them crying themselves unconscious some nights, well... there’s a Lot of angst Morsel’s going through. 

As for the campaign itself, it’s a collision of Morsel’s long-term plot to resurrect her first meal/adopted sister, the party mermaid’s long-term plot to reclaim artifacts stolen from her people when the Deep Ones did enough murder/pillaging to nearly wipe her people out, and an episodic monster-of-the-week plot, since the party was hired into the king’s League of Extraordinary Ratcatchers, aka The Dudes Wot Get Thrown At The Weird Noises In The Woods