#however this looks on mobile is none of my business

[sugarpopss]

Late Call

We're back Lee girlies I'm back on my corrupt sheriff shit. This so SO inspired by the lore for Lee and his post divorce with Flo girlypop written in the chat by yours truly and @bucknastysbabe and also I've had this google doc just...open in my tabs for ages. Here's the post for the dead motel I took the Plaza Lodge from.

fem!reader

Lee rarely responded to late night calls himself. One of the perks of being the sheriff-he got to go home at 7:30 and leave all of the idiots underneath him to deal with noise complaints and bar fights. Even if all Lee did with his free evenings was park his ass on the sofa and fill up with TV dinners and sodapop and packaged cookies, watch ‘I’ve Got a Secret’ and tug on his cock-it was still better than responding to hillbillies domestic disputes. 

It wasn’t uncommon to get calls from the apartment block his sister Sandy lived in, either. About ten years ago-when Lee had been a fresh-faced deputy with a wife and a plan and pants that fit-the building had been a motor lodge. Not a particularly nice one, but a functioning motor lodge nonetheless. The place hadn’t really started going downhill until they’d converted it into apartments. What did anyone expect? The rent was cheap, the building itself ill-maintained, and several of the residents seemed determined to make their units a welcoming home for all manner of pests. 

Units like Sandys. Christ, it made Lees eye twitch just thinking about the mess of her place. However much of the mess was his sisters and how much of it was the fault of her stinking pig of a husband was still up in the air. All of that to say-Lee wasn’t usually perturbed by calls from the apartment block. They were rarely a big deal. 

Despite knowing all of that-save the bits about Lee stuffing his face and jerking it to Bess Myerson-Willis still felt the need to call Lee up at nearly 11 o’ clock at night. Lee had been tempted to just not pick up the phone, but, well…he was the sheriff. He had certain responsibilities. Even if just hearing a voice from the station while he was at home made him want to groan. 

“I’m, uh, I’m sorry to bother you so late, Lee-” 

Really, everyone was meant to be calling him ‘Sheriff Bodecker’, but Lee wasn’t going to fight that battle at 11 at night. 

“You got a reason for buggin’ me like this? I don’t wanna spend my night chattin’ with you.” Maybe Lee was a little grumpy about being shaken out of his post-orgasm food coma. Maybe Lee was a little grumpy most of the time. 

“It’s just that a call came in from the Plaza Lodge, and I know that your sister lives down there , so I thought-” 

Lee didn’t even let the dispatcher finish. He was already annoyed that he’d had to haul himself up to answer the phone, and the movement had made the fullness of his stomach shift from ‘pleasantly full’ to ‘tight and queasy.. “I don’t need to go down there every time someone hears a goddamn bump. It’s a shithole. People call the police. Handle it.” 

“I know that, Lee, it’s just…” Willis was trying hard to justify the call. Pissing Lee off usually meant spending a shift out patrolling the county line, looking at skinny cattle and rusted out cars. “Well, the caller reported gunshots, and they said a woman was gettin’ all worked up and hysterical, so I thought maybe you’d want to know about it.” 

Alright, that did make a little knot of anxiety form in Lees chest. As tangled up and messy as his relationship with Sandy was, she was still his baby sister. If something was awfully wrong, he oughta be there. A sick, shameful part him-though not really that shameful-hoped that fucker Carl had finally put his hands on her; slapped her around or pushed her down the outdoor stairs. Something that wouldn’t hurt Sandy too badly, but would still let Lee finally get the son-of-a-bitch in handcuffs. Or even better-gunshots, agitated woman-Sandy had just snapped and shot Carl. Now that would be something worth getting up to see. 

With that in mind, Lee hung up on Willis while he was still talking and set to getting dressed and moving, and if he grabbed two Pepsis to drink on the way, that was his business. It was late, he needed the sugar to perk him up. 

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

When Lee pulled up to what used to be the Plaza Motor Lodge, he was greeted with both disappointment and relief. There was only one cruiser in the parking lot, and the whole place was pretty quiet; just a couple of people standing out on their porches, smoking or sipping from chipped mugs, trying to look like they weren’t attempting to nose in on their neighbors. That at least ruled out Carl having gotten a bullet in his ugly forehead.  Considering that Sandys apartment was one of the dark ones, the bastard was likely actually warm and cozy in his bed-which Lee had no doubt was riddled with bed bugs. What a shame. 

The door to a ground floor unit was open, however, so that was likely where the problem was. He could’ve just gone home right then. But he was already there, and unexplained gunshots were pretty unusual in Meade. People out in the holler loved to fire shots off at all hours of the night for reasons only Jesus knew, but Lee liked to think that the center of the county was a little more civilized. 

He rapped his knuckles on the doorframe, but didn’t wait to be invited in-just did it to let the people inside know he was there. Deputy Howser was sat on the sofa, a notepad balanced on his knee. The other person-presumably the apartments tennant-was pacing the short distance between the front door and the kitchenette. Agitated? Definitely. Hysterical? Yet to be seen. 

“Sheriff Bodecker!” Howser didn’t stand to greet him, but did pat the spot on the sofa next to himself. “You’re gonna want to hear this, Sheriff. Pretty lady’s got a real story for you, huh?” 

The apartments tenant paused in her pacing to whirl on Howser like a jungle cat. “How about you try taking me fucking seriously?!” 

Lee sort of thought steam was going to start coming out of her ears. 

“I’m not the one shooting at ghosts, miss.” Howser said, raising his hands in mock surrender. 

Lee stepped farther into the room. For all of the shit he’d done as sheriff, he was pretty good at the actual minutiae of police work. He’d defused more fights and talked down more angry and panicked people than he could count. 

“Take it easy, sweetheart.” He said in his best ‘everything is okay, miss’ voice. “I know you-”

“I’m not your fucking sweetheart!”

The woman had whipped her head to him the moment it left his mouth. There were mascara tear tracks streaking her cheeks, but she didn’t look sad or scared, just pissed to hell. 

She kept going. 

“If one of y’all would just listen to me for one goddamn minute I could explain!” 

Lee sighed and sat down on the sofa. The deputy nudged him, smirking, and Lee realized that the idiot was going to be extraordinarily unhelpful in sorting this out. 

“Get out of here.” Lee told him. Howser didn’t even question it, likely glad to have one more thing cut from his night shift. Back to the station to sit around and drink burnt coffee with his finger up his ass, most likely. 

Once the deputy had gotten his skinny ass out of there, Lee leaned forward, elbows on his knees-ignoring how that position made his gut roll against his belt. He had bigger fish to fry. 

“Listen, miss.” He began. “I can see you’re pretty worked up, that’s no good. How about you take a breath n’ sit down n’ tell me what’s going on. I hear you were shooting at something?”

She held back for a few moments, then seemed to accept that Lee was the best she was going to get and sat down. With the woman on one end of the sofa and Lee on the other, she told the sheriff what had happened. 

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

She wasn’t shooting at ghosts. Lee had figured as much from the start, but it was nice to have confirmation. What she had been shooting at-or rather, what she had shot at, as there had, in reality, only been one bullet fired-was a man. According to her, a man she worked with in one of the shabby little offices in the center of town had been following her home for a couple of days. She had looked through the front window and seen his car lingering in the parking lot, pulling up in front of her unit then pulling out again and looping the lot. So she’d gone into the mostly empty parking lot and fired once, just to scare him. “Just so he knew I had a gun.” she’d said. 

Lee scrubbed a hand over his face when she finished the story. Some men just didn’t know how to handle rejection. Not including Lee, of course. Why, he’d never been rejected by a woman! Not that he was pursuing many these days, after the whole mess of the divorce with Flo, but still. 

“I’m not gonna arrest you for being scared.” He said. He wasn’t. If he had really wanted to, he probably could’ve gotten her for disturbing the peace or unlawfully discharging a firearm, but he didn’t really want to. He’d let worse things slide than a pretty young woman taking her safety into her own hands. 

“What if I had someone stop by here on patrol tomorrow night? Stick around the parking lot for a bit, make sure no one who shouldn't be there is hanging around.” 

She looked away from him, worked her hands in her lap. A lot of the furious indignation in her had faded away, replaced by exhaustion and anxiety. 

“What about tonight?” She asked. 

A reasonable question, but one that had Lee sighing and falling back against the couch cushions. “Jesus Christ, miss.” 

What about that night? Sure, Lee could call Howser back up and have him watch for a bit, but the dumbass would probably just upset the lady again. And Lee was already there-now that he had been up and moving for a bit, the queasiness from earlier had pretty much abated. He wasn’t even feeling particularly tired. 

“I’ll stay for a while.” 

“Really?” She didn’t demure or simper about the big strong sheriff not needing to waste his time on a little thing like her-although it would’ve done wonders for his ego. She just raised her eyebrows, a bit bewildered but pretty accepting. 

Lee nodded, then pushed off his knees and stood. Sure, he’d stick around for a bit. He could finish the half a Pepsi sitting in his cruiser and make sure no one sketchy was hanging around. Well, as far as it pertained to this lady and her problem-if they went and hauled out every creep and scumbag from the Plaza Lodge Apartments they’d have half the tenants, Sandy and her no-good cradle snatcher of a husband included. 

“I’m already here. God knows there’s enough to keep an eye on around here.” 

That got a smile out of her, albeit a small one. If he had been about ten years younger, didn’t have an ex-wife with some truly awful stories about him, and his belt wasn’t biting into his lower belly something awful, Lee would’ve been thinking she was real pretty when she smiled. Even when she’d been snapping at Deputy Howser like a rabid dog, she wasn’t bad looking-just upset. 

“I…I really appreciate that, Sheriff Bodecker.” 

Oh, if Lee didn’t just love the sound of that! ‘Sheriff Bodecker’ said with respect like that was music to his ears. If only everyone referred to him like that, instead of ‘Lee’ this and ‘Lee’ that. 

“ ‘S no trouble. I’m used to late nights.” 

Lee didn’t even know he was trying to impress her until it came out of his mouth. It was a bit juvenile, sure, but the little smile didn’t drop from her face. And he was being truthful! Lee was used to late nights-it was just that he was usually meeting with Leroy or carrying out some of that chickenshit bastards pseudo-mafia business. Lee’s preference was to have his belly full, balls empty and ass in bed by 10pm. 

She cocked her head a little, which made her modern bubble hairstyle bob. Flo had wanted to get a haircut like that a couple of years ago, when it just started to show up in the fashion magazines that filtered in from Cincinnati, and Lee had told her that it would make her look like a bobblehead. By far not the worst thing he’d said to Flo, but it still wasn’t great-especially considering how  cute he was finding the same look on this lady. 

She just looked at Lee for a moment, apparently weighing his offer in her mind, then glanced towards the apartments little kitchenette. 

“I could make you a cup of coffee, if you’d like. Or, um, I have some leftover spaghetti, if you’re gonna be around…” 

“That’s alright. I’ll be right out there in the cruiser, stick around for a while and make sure your jackass doesn’t show back up.” Lee hooked a thumb back towards the front door, still standing open against the cool night air. 

“Okay.” She didn’t offer again. The lack of persistence in her offer stung Lees ego, just a little bit. It’d been a bit since a woman who didn’t reek like the sweat and stale beer had paid him more attention than an eye-fucking. Losing Flo really had tarnished his reputation, goddamn her and her suited-up lawyer with his fancy office in Dayton. If he’d really wanted to put up a fight, he could’ve accused Flo of sleeping with the bastard. She almost certainly hadn’t been, but it would’ve made the whole process a bit more inconvenient for her. Maybe that was a petty sort of win to want. Maybe Lee was the sort of man who wanted those wins anyway. 

And that was the end of it. 

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

By around 1:45, Lee was dozing off in his cruiser. He’d finished off his room temperature Pepsi, smoked a cigarette, hummed the earworm theme song from 'Name That Tune' and smoked another cigarette. He’d opened and closed the glove box at least six times, contemplating the Chunky bar stowed in there. 

All while keeping an eye on the other cars in the parking lot, seeing if anyone was going to try to cause trouble. He doubted that the idiot who had been bothering little miss thing was going to show back up that night, but that didn’t mean other horseplay wouldn’t happen-though depending on what it was, Lee would have to let it go anyway. The girls down at the Tecumseh and a couple of illegal substances all fell under the umbrella of ‘things Lee let slide for cold hard cash’. 

The door of miss things unit opened up, light spilling out for just a moment. If Lee had turned his headlights on he could’ve gotten a look at what she was holding, but he also probably would’ve spooked her into dropping it. It didn’t matter anyway, because she came right up to his drivers side window. He’d left it rolled down after the first cigarette. It was a nice night for May. 

She offered him a steaming mug with a cartoon cardinal painted on it. The aroma of coffee hit him instantly-good, fresh coffee, not like the shit at the station that comes out burnt then sits in the pot for hours. 

“It’s been a bit. I figured you’d take me up on this, now.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Lee responded, taking the mug. Their hands didn’t touch, though to be fair, the only person who did much touching on Lee those days was himself. 

The coffee was strong and sweet, just how Lee liked it. So she could at least make a good cup of coffee, and really…wasn’t at all bad looking with the tear tracks washed off her face. No Bess Myerson, but that was a high bar. She was plenty attractive for a town like Meade-and a man like Lee. 

A lot of things could be good enough for a man like Lee.

[yanderelionwrites]

Take a Break - Self Aware AU Leona x Reader

Very self indulgent drabble to cope with finals stress 🫠

(Type of self aware au where they can come out of the game btw)

Content Warning: None!

Word Count: 778

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A normal person would probably scream and freak out if a whole person came out of their phone, nevermind it being a character from a mobile game. But you’ve grown used to it by now, so you don’t even bat an eye when an NRC boy comes through to say hi. In fact, you welcome it.

Except for maybe today. You have a bunch of projects and assignments due for finals week and you’ve been working nonstop on them so you can get them done on time. You’re beyond tired and your hands feel like they’re gonna fall off, but at least your assignments don’t look like total shit.

You’re at your desk working, ignoring the strain in your eyes or the stiffness of your shoulders. In fact, you’re so busy, you don’t even notice your phone’s screen lighting up, glowing from across the bedroom where you left it charging. In a flash, a certain lion beastman appears, feet planting themselves on the floor before his eyes scan around the room for you.

After confirming you’re actually present, Leona makes himself comfy on your bed. You hear the creak of the mattress springs, and finally then do you realize you’re not alone. You only stare at him in mild annoyance, though.

“What did I say about napping on my bed? You can’t just use my room as one of your hideouts, you know.”

Leona closes his eyes, leaning back until his head hits the pillow. He hums, murmuring, “You say that, but I don’t see you trying very hard to kick me out.”

“Cuz I’m too busy to fight with you.” You take a minute to stretch your limbs out before going straight back to work. “I thought we agreed that you guys wouldn’t visit during this time so I could focus. Just couldn’t wait to see me, huh?”

A huff of a chuckle came from Leona, saying, “Nah, just wanted a quiet place to nap. It’s those freshmen that won’t stop yappin’ about seeing you.”

“Mmhm,” is all you respond with, and the room soon falls silent again.

Only a few seconds go by and Leona is out like a light. You watch as his chest heaves up and down, looking oh so comfortable on your bed. Oh, what you’d give just to lay down and nap the day away. Better yet, make it the whole week. Geez, when was the last time you got a good night’s sleep?

You swear, once finals are done and over with, you’ll take the time to relax as much as you like. But for now, you need to finish this work.

The idea of taking a nap seems to still be on your mind, however, as you nod off at your desk. Your head nearly hits the wooden surface at one point, and you have to shake yourself awake to get the drowsiness to go away.

A hand clamping down on your shoulder causes you to jump, wide-awake eyes meeting the emerald ones of the man behind you. You didn’t even notice him there until now.

“You look awful,” Leona states matter-of-factly, and you throw a scowl at him before facing back towards your laptop.

“Gee, thanks. That’s exactly what I wanna hear right now.”

“Quit pushin’ yourself and take a break already before you find yourself drooling all over your work.” 

“I’m…” You take a second to yawn. “...not even tired. And I’m almost done, so–”

Leona shuts the lid to your laptop, eliciting a “Hey!” from you, but all protests die in your throat as he pulls you up by the arm. It’s not enough force to hurt, but it gets you to stand up from your chair. He tugs you away from your desk, uttering, “Don’t try to lie to me. Those eyebags are horrendous.” 

He leads you over to your bed and nudges you forward, and you have no choice but to flop down onto the covers with an indignant huff. You cross your arms as Leona crawls in next to you, chuckling at your glower.

“Don’t be like that. It won’t kill ya to rest a little bit.” He props his arm up to support his head as he leans against the pillow, gazing down at you. “Seriously, you gotta learn to take it easy sometimes.”

“Hmm, good thing the expert is here to show me.” You finally crack a smile, cuddling further into the warmth and comfort your bed brings.

You fall asleep shockingly fast; you really were more tired than you thought. The stress of finals still hangs around you, but at least you can find a moment of peace in Leona’s arms.

[theoreticalfishsticks]

Dorn X Huntsman (Spider-Person!Reader)

AN: Its here!!!

Reader is nonbinary

Word Count: 2,124

divider from @/enchanthings

The headcanon that inspired this: Huntsman and Dorn developed a little “game” they played together called Breach N’ Defend (Huntsman insists that's how it's written). The rules are simple: whenever they have to leave the Phalanx to stay at an imperial fortress, Dorn arrives ahead of Huntsman and goes about his business as usual. After a delay, Huntsman follows after him. But, instead of entering the fortress like a normal person, they have to try and break into it; and should they make it inside, they then have to locate and reach Dorn. While they have the advantage that they don't have to be stealthy about it, Huntsman only wins if they can reach him. If they can’t get inside or they get caught before finding him, Dorn wins. 

And, surprising as it may be, it was actually Dorn who originally suggested the exercise.

“I’m sorry, what…?” You look up from the data slab you'd been reading to blink owlishly at the Primarch sitting before you.

Despite it being late into the Phalanx’s artificial night cycle, you were still wide awake keeping the Lord Dorn company in his office. Or perhaps more accurately, he was keeping you company in his office. An increasingly frequent occurrence these days, either way.

It was nice. You liked the companionable silence you shared as you worked on separate things together. Utterly absorbed in your respective tasks, it had been hours since either of you had exchanged any words with one another. Until Dorn had broken that streak, at least.

“I believe it would be mutually beneficial if we were to set your skills against the fortress’ defenses,” he repeated. Leaning back in his chair, the massive Primarch casually stretches his back and neck after hours of being hunched over. 

“No– Uh, I heard you,” you sighed. Shaking your head, you lay the data slab to the side, atop the blueprints of whatever schematics Dorn had previously been drawing out. “I just don’t understand what you mean.” 

“The fortress we are moving to for the next two weeks is an early design of mine. Though it was built to withstand heavy siege first and foremost, I – of course – closed any gaps that could be used for small scale infiltration, as well. However, you present a unique threat as someone with both enhanced strength and mobility. Thus, tomorrow, when we arrive at our destination, I would like for you to try and break into it once I have entered the premises as a means of testing its fortifications.”

“Why after you’re already inside? If you wanted another pair of eyes to look for proverbial cracks in your security’s foundation, wouldn’t it make more sense for us to just go for a walk around the premises together?”

Dorn shook his head. “No. It is not merely the fortress itself that I intend to test. I wish to observe my sons’ own response, as well.” 

“Yeah, but that’s assuming I make it in,” frowning, you tilt your head in a quizzical manner. 

“You will.”

“...Oh, I see! So, there’s a security issue that you’re already aware of, then?”

“No.”

Slumping over in confusion, you can only blink at the man before you dumbly. Which he obviously must find humorous, if the way the corners of his lips twitched up slightly was any indication. 

“Though there are no ‘cracks’ in the fortress’ security that I am aware of, I am certain you will find a way in, regardless.” 

“But, you said you designed it.”

“I did.”

“So, it should be impenetrable then!”

“Indeed.”

Letting out a frustrated huff, you throw your hands up in an exaggerated display of confusion. “Then how the hell am I supposed to get in!?”

“I do not know. And that is exactly the point,” Dorn began. “As I said, there are no ‘cracks’ that I can see – but I do not see as you do. You are without a doubt more resourceful than any other individual I have ever known. You see paths where others fail to. And when you can find none, you create them. You will find a way in.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

He sounds as sure as he always does. As though the triumph of your ingenuity over his own is a long foregone conclusion, the obvious outcome. It makes your chest feel impossibly tight.

“That is– Um, that is– that…” God, you hadn’t felt this small in a long time… You hated the way your voice wavered. “I, uh– Um, I think you might be giving me a bit too much credit there.” 

“No, you give yourself too little,” Dorn says firmly. “I know you doubt yourself. I see it in the way you deflect praise with humor, downplaying your expertise in favor of others’. You think that because you lack the words to explain what makes a strategy sound or why a maneuver paid off that it means that you do not understand how your battles are won, that you succeed on luck. But that could not be further from the truth.

“For someone who did not have the luxury of receiving any training before taking to the field, the realms of strategy are not made up of words and theory. Everything you know, you know from experience. Your instincts are forged in action, an ever evolving flow of cause-and-effect – free of the preconceived limitations others place on themselves. This gives you a level of variability in your methods of approach that makes surmising your next move difficult for even myself at times. If anyone can find a way into my fortress that I cannot, it is you.”

“Oh…” Tears stung at the corners of your eyes. 

The idea that he could most definitely hear the way your heartbeat and breath had quickened makes you want to crawl into a hole, never to emerge again. It made you want to brush him off, rebuff his honest praise and tell yourself that he was just being nice. But you can't. Not with him.

Dorn wasn't one to give flowery platitudes to flatter his way into people's good graces or peddle soothing lies to protect their ego. He was precise and intentional, always saying exactly what he meant. So, whether you could believe his assessment of your character yourself or not, there was no doubt in your mind that Dorn most certainly did. He believes in you.

And you believe in him.

“I– uh, I don't know what to say to that,” You croak, trying desperately to keep from stuttering. 

Dorn's brow furrowed lightly, “I apologize for upsetting you. You may, of course, refuse. I understand that I am asking a great deal of time and energy of you on rather short notice–”

“No! No–That's not– You didn't–” Huffing out a frustrated growl, you shove the heels of your palms into your eyes in an aggressive attempt to rub away the tears forming in them.

But, no sooner than your hands had made contact with your face did you feel Dorn's own wrap around your forearms, their mass only just shy of covering them entirely. He pulls your hands away firmly, though he was likely being quite gentle by his own standards. 

“Breathe.”

Obey his command, you close your eyes and begin sucking in deep breaths as best you can. 

Your thoughts are filled with anxiety. What if this whole proposition was just some kind of a test and you'd just failed? Given away the true frailty of your heart and disappointed him? Was he angry with you? Would he take back all of the nice things he just said?

After an agonizing moment of hesitation, you finally gather your courage enough to open your eyes and begin scanning across Dorn's face, trying to gauge his reaction to your pathetic display. 

His brows had remained furrowed slightly but they had smoothed out enough to convey more exasperation than anything else. And it wasn't an angry exasperation, but rather he looked almost… fond? His eyes held a soft gleam that cast the rest of his face in a terribly affectionate light.

If you had thought that seeing his disappointment would sting, then his apparent acceptance was a punch to the gut. It was all you could do to choke back more tears at the sight.

“Stop looking at me like that, before I start to think you like me or something else scandalous like that,” you jokingly snapped at him, though it sounds half-hearted even to your own ears.

“You are sitting atop my desk with your feet on it,” Dorn begins, arching a brow at you in an almost challenging manner. “Is that something you think I would allow from someone whom I am not fond of?”

After giving a quick glance down at your own crossed legs, that are indeed seated on top of the Primarch's desk, you look off to the side and shrug lazily. “Oh, I don't know… for all I know you're just as indulgent with all of the other trans-universe funny men you meet.” There you go, back into comfortable territory.

“Try again,” he ordered. Now the exasperation looked a little annoyed. 

“No, you wouldn't,” you mumbled, visibly wilting and casting your eyes to the side in a sulk. 

“Correct.” The primarch reaches out a hand to gently turn your face back to him. “So, am I to believe you are amicable to attempting to infiltrate the fortress as I have asked?”

“Yeah, of course,” you hum, nodding for good measure. “If you think it'll be helpful, I'm happy to be of service. Besides, it'll be a good way to work through my post-warp jitters.”

“That was my thought as well,” Dorn says. He picks up the drafting pencil he'd previously been using and adjusts his seating slightly, apparently content enough with the course of the conversation to divert his attention back to his work. 

You're somewhat disappointed to see that he's done with you for the time being, but you're happy for the chance to admire the man's profile, nonetheless. It was moments like this that reminded you why you had fallen for the primarch, as ridiculous as your crush on the man felt at times. When his methodical and stoic nature gave way to the considerate and down-right gentle heart that informed it. 

“You thought of that?” Your voice is soft, like speaking too loud would shatter the tender atmosphere. 

Dorn responds without looking up from his work. “Of course. I did say I believe it to be a mutually beneficial arrangement, did I not? Warp travel makes you anxious, but so as to not disturb those around you, you pretend as though it doesn't. Instead you let your anxiety fester and writhe within, your very body becoming a prison of your own making. And since you seem to be doing so for my perceived benefit, it falls to me to provide you with a method of release.”

“Oh, no it doesn't! My martyr complex isn't your problem.” Your face felt impossibly hot. There was nothing more mortifying than having the object of one's affection blatantly point out behaviors born of your hopeless pinning. “I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were paying attention to stuff like that…”

“I pay attention to everything, especially when it comes to you.” 

He had said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, still not even glancing up from his work. Something one might think would make his words carry less weight, even to an adoring ear. But, surprisingly, it didn't bother you at all. The sentiment still brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. 

“And, yes, perhaps it is not inherently my responsibility to see to your well-being and provide you with, shall we say, enrichment,” he pauses for a moment, his gaze once again flicking up to your own finally. A teasing smile ghosts his lips as they form the word ‘enrichment,’ as though you were some pet he was caring for rather than a trusted friend. “But, it is a responsibility I take on willingly, nonetheless.”

Though you let out a shaky laugh at his dry humor, you're at a loss for any words to properly convey how insane he's making you feel right now. So, instead you settle for a smile; watery but genuine. It seems to be enough for the primarch, who returns it with one of his own before once again refocusing on his work.

Letting your tears fall freely this time, you think to yourself that perhaps your feelings for Dorn were not as silly as you had thought, as something your father told you when you were younger manages to break through the emotional haze that had previously blanketed your mind:

To be loved is to be known.

[dol-dee]

So... you imagine DoL set in the early 2000s? ME TOO. Tell me more about that!

aaaaaaa yes I do!!!! (Sorry for the late reply haha. I kept forgetting to come back to this ask) I think I started to feel that way pretty early on, since there's hardly any electronics around in game.

You don't have access to a phone yourself (which, admittedly makes sense as an orphan) but electronics get barely mentioned in general. (I'm guessing the true reason for it, is that it would be too much of a hassle to implement electronics as a mechanic in game. bc arguably you should easily be able to buy a phone or w/e later on, if dol actually took place in our time) Named npcs often have phones to record you with (which I kinda forgot about tbh lmao) but unless in that context, phones don't get brought up at all iirc. None of the named npcs ever ask you for your phone number and Social media isn't really a topic of conversation either.

The only Computers that I remember mentioned in game are Leightons, Mickey's, Kylars and the one you can check in the police station. (I don't remember if Bailey even has one or not.) They are far and few between. They also all read as desktop computers to me and not laptops. Hell, the only gaming Console to ever be a topic of interest, is Robins. I don't think we hear of/see any handheld conosles at all. Even TV's rarely get mentioned.

Pop Culture, like manga, anime and games doesn't seem to be a big thing yet either.

All of that gives me the impression that most electronic is still pretty sparse and hard to come around and kinda reminds me of my childhood when those interests where still conisdered niche/nerdy and weird. The few characters that have desktop pc's seem to be ones that had/have enough money (like Kylar, maybe Bailey?) to foot the bill, are either in a high enough position of power to own one (like leighton) or they're involved enough in shady business that they might have the resources to have their own equipment (Mickey).

tbf a lot of my reasoning can be argued against or easily explained away, but I think dol is infinitely more interesting as a game/story when it's set during the early/mid 2000s, where most electronics were still hard to come by.

Oh and last but not least: it simply makes for easier story telling haha. I think there would be way more ""plot holes"" you'd have trouble explaining away if it was set during modern times. considering how much digital surveilance we have nowadays.

Aside from all the examples I just brought up, dol just has that 2000s grime to me. It's so grungy and dank in it's vibes that it always reminds me of that timeframe. Just has that kinda clunky/kitschy charm to it. (a more eclectic personal explanation is that the seasons in game still feel the way I remember them for my childhood. nowadays everything feels really out of wack thanks to global warming. Although I'm sure that people who are older than me would say the same haha)

to keep this already long post short(er lmao) I'm gonna go into some headcanons under the cut; Basically which Characters have electronics and why:

Avery: has an expensive af and extremely clunky looking (by todays standards) work laptop, that she sometimes lugs around. Also owned one of the first mobile phones. Those really big and blocky ones. Maybe even had one of those phones that were built into cars. However, I think shed be kinda annoyed by mobile phones*, even if she's extremely diligent in answering her calls. (the grind never stops) *based on this comic from 1919 about pocketphones: Mostly because she strikes me as someone who doesn't care to be overly accessible and also hates it when whatever shes doing at the moment gets disrupted by something else.

Alex: Canonically has a phone in game. To me it's a landline phone. They don't own much electronics beside it. They have no desktop pc and no mobile phone. (canonically the own a tv and I feel like they'd have a radio, maybe even an old record player) Bailey: It would make sense for them to have a desktop computer but I can't remember if they canonically (and with that I mean in game) do have one or not. I could see it either way tbh. As they strike me as a stubborn hard ass whos paranoid about electronics and quickly gets annoyed by it) They only own burner phones aside from the official landline phone thats designated for "over the counter" orphanage business. Eden: Has an old ass radio and an extremely dusty burner phone that bailey gave them once. They don't own anything else

Harper: has a mobile phone they got from Remy, it's purely for business. I don't think they have one for personal business. They own a pager though bc of the hospital. They probably have a desktop pc too if only for hospital stuff.

Kylar: Has a Desktop pc, their parents footed the bill for that many screened monstrosity (tbf i dont know enough to remember if old pcs are even able to have several monitors connected to them or not). Probably had a mobile phone once. Whitney stole it. They own a few consoles but they prefer pc gaming (pc master race /j) Some 2000s era games (with no consideration for an exact timeframe) that I think Kylar would be into are : Vampire: The Masquerade Bloodlines American McGee's Alice Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 / Persona 3 Portable The Urbz: Sims in the City The Sims 2 The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask

Robin: No mobile phone, the only electronics they keep around (until they inevitably need to sell them for emergency money) are an old tv and a gaming console. I have no concrete headcanons regarding the exact console and games unfortunately. (They seem to like superhero related stuff and I don't remember enough games that I associate with that direction of the top of my head)

Sydney: Has access to a landline phone but thats it. they don't have a mobile phone. Maybe they got to look at/ try out a pc at Kylars house once upon a time, but I don't think Sirris has one themself. I might be off with this but I could see Sirris being the one who bought a few early nintendo consoles like the SNES and Game Cube. Maybe even a gameboy.

Whitney: I don't think Whitney or their family is particularly wealthy so all of the access to electronics that they got, is either through wealthier friends, bullying or stealing. They have a mobile phone and probably a few handheld consoles they nabbed off their victims (in secret).

[itjazzbicch]

What Wasn't Meant To Be

Pairing: Shang Tsung x Fem Reader 

Summary: This is a prequel to my Escaping False Fate Mini Series!

Escaping False Fate PT. 1 - Escaping False Fate PT. 2

After a man interrupts Shang Tsung during a sales pitch, claiming his work to be fake, the day takes an unfortunate turn; the reader comes to check on her business partner, who holds a special place in her heart after bonding for so long, where she learns vaguely that their lives are about to take a drastic turn...

Warnings:  NONE! Just fluff🥰

Quick Note: I thought that this would be a cute little idea after thinking about the mini-series and based on the photos I use below!

Word Count: 1k 

"You surely cannot be without this medicine that I prepared..."

Shang Tsung was managing by making 'medicine,' which I couldn't insult as I did similar things to make money in the cruel world that we lived in. However, tonight, I had a gift for him that I worked very hard on. A medicine that would work.

Today was quite an eventful one, not for the better, unfortunately. A man came after Shang Tsung and practically started a mob, ruining his product, and I knew that the scene that occurred was weighing on his shoulders.

It was likely going to ripple his future, and considering we were partners, just trying to make money to live, I wanted to help him in any way I could.

"Shang?"

Coming to his stand, I didn't notice him inside, the heavy rain not helping with my vision, but as I turned the corner, he stood in the rain, staring off into nothingness.

"You shouldn't be standing in the rain like this."

Something was going on, but I didn't know what. Either way, I wanted to help him and give him my gift, taking his hand softly and guiding him inside:

"Come inside. I have something to show you."

"Something to show me, hm?"

Looking down at his hand in mine, he hid an evident smile. It made my heart feel lighter. I smiled softly as I nodded, following him inside his mobile stand.

I was familiar with it, sitting him down and getting him a change of clothes, questioning:

"Any particular reason you were standing out in the rain?"

Silence. He was staring off into space, that grin on his face. It made me even more curious now. I didn't want to push him, so I sat his clothes next to him, kneeling gently in front of him so I could get him to stop staring at nothing and find my gaze.

"Would you like to see your gift?"

"What a lovely surprise," He chuckled with a grin, "What is it?"

He had some dry patches of skin on his face, and he was far too handsome to deal with such a burden that wasn't necessary. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a jar with some cream inside, opened it, and put a small amount on my finger.

"This will help with those dry patches," I explained and offered, "I promise, it will help."

"How thoughtful of you," He grinned, closing his eyes softly as I rubbed it into his skin, getting the patches on his cheek and temple. I couldn't help but smile when he sighed, relieved; it was working already.

"Just keep using it, and your skin will glow," I hummed, gazing into his eyes deeply as he looked into mine, continuing to grin.

Every time I looked into his eyes, my heart skipped a beat. I couldn't describe the feeling, but it surged within me. I nearly got lost in admiring the handsomeness held along with his deep brown eyes till that grin caught my attention again.

My patience was wearing thin because of my curiosity, whispering to him:

"Any particular reason as to why you're grinning like that?"

"I have a question for you." He whispered back, nearly staring into my soul, and his gaze told me this question was necessary.

"I'm listening."

"If our lives were to change drastically, would you continue to be loyal to me?"

This wasn't what I expected, but Shang and I had been business partners for quite some time, and I would be a liar if I said I didn't trust him or that I wasn't loyal to him. As much as I hid it, he had a spot in my heart, and there was never any running from the feeling.

"I'd hope that the change you speak of would be for the better," I sighed, then smiled into his eyes, "But whether if it's good or bad, I'll continue to be loyal to you, Shang."

"Our lives will be changing for the better, dear."

Something must've happened before I came here, and I could only stare as I tried to think of what could have happened, my heart racing as when he called me, dear.

"Did something happen?" I wouldn't dig for too much, but I would've liked an answer.

Shang started to smile, a bright one, nodding and saying vaguely, "I have been presented with an opportunity. An amazing opportunity."

I cocked my eyebrow, my eyes asking for a more direct answer, then he cupped my face, thumbs caressing my cheeks. My heart raced even quicker as he did, softly telling me:

"Imagine being as strong as a deity, having the realms at our feet. Never having to live like this again. Just imagine, dear."

The thought of that made my blood rush. I hated this life, and to come from this life to this power he spoke of? It was like a drug straight into my veins.

"We will achieve such power. All I need you to do is trust and be loyal to me."

"Y-Yes," I nodded, a crack of thunder roaring in the sky as I smiled with a tear of happiness, "Always."

"With time, we will have the realms at our feet. We'll never have to live like this again," He was nearly panting from being so excited at the thought, another crack of thunder roaring when he brought his lips to mine.

I'd never felt my blood run so hot, something in his kiss telling me that every word he spoke was accurate, the spot he had in my heart growing and taking over me as I deepened our kiss, holding his cheeks to keep him close, his lips curling into another grin as I poured my heart into his lips.

When our lips parted, I shook with every breath I took, slowly gazing up into his eyes, and the more he smiled, so did I, to the point where we started laughing, pressing my forehead to his as I whispered:

"I knew that when we met, our lives would change. It almost feels as if we defied a cruel destiny."

His eyes were filled with determination, seeing his gears going and creating a plan, squeezing my cheeks as he smiled, "We will defy that cruel fate, my dear Y/N." 

2024 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome 

[cels-not-so-secret-love-affair]

falling to the music pt. 2 (jily)

a/n: part 2 to my band au jily noodles arrives! featuring coffee, more of mary and a slight misunderstanding…

previous | next

Lily goes four whole days with no new messages. Okay, fine, her friends text her, and she gets some emails from university about upcoming assignments, and her Waterstones app cheerily supplies to her the hottest novels of the month in a push notification, but she doesn’t get a text from James, which means none of that counts. And Lily is not bothered about this in the slightest. She’s fine about it, dandy even. Her friends have not complained about the new habit she’s developed of checking her iMessages every spare moment she has. Only, maybe they have. Once. Or twice. Or thrice. It’s just she thought it had gone so well. She had flirted, hadn’t she? And he had been interested, or so she’d thought. He’d gone to get her a pen, for fuck’s sake. She’d written her number on his skin. She’d basically temporary tattooed him, it was a Sharpie and everything. But she hears not a peep from him, so apparently he’s just a typical guy-in-an-indie-rock-band who flirts with girls and never follows up. Which is fine, honestly - that’s his prerogative. All it means now is she’s got to learn to quell the incessant and unrelenting desire to see him again. Easier said than done, though.

It’s a Saturday when she decides to ring Mary up and meet her for a coffee. This is what I need, she thinks. I just need to let it all out in one sitting and then move the fuck on. I only bloody met him once. So she dresses up. She picks out that nice skirt she got in a charity shop in York and her pair of sixties style boots and douses herself in perfume, and goes marching out to enjoy a good old rant and a latte. She’s determined to have a nice morning, and to have everything go her way for once. And she almost gets that. Almost.

The coffee shop, to its credit, is exactly as she wanted it to be. An independent joint on a pretty street corner, it’s perfect for people watching, and decorated quite pleasantly with all sorts of vintage knickknacks. She likes it. It’s unknown enough that it doesn’t get too busy, and not so awfully pretentious that it doesn’t have any proper seating. Seriously, why does no one seem to want to let you sit down anymore? Settling herself comfortably in a gorgeous green armchair by the window, Lily sets her phone face down firmly on the table. She vows silently and fervently to herself that she will not check it until she has left the building. Then, she pulls out her novel, Emma - which is in every aspect the perfect comfort book - and contents herself to caring solely about what’s going on in Highbury. So far, so good.

Mary turns up about ten or so minutes late, despite her optimistic suggestion over the phone earlier that this time it might only be five. This is not an issue though because Lily knows her best friend like the back of her hand, and thus knows better than to believe that she might arrive on time. Things are still as they ought to be.

‘Right then, Lils,’ Mary says after having brought over their drinks. ‘I have it on good authority that we’re pissed off today, is that correct?’

‘However did you guess?’ Lily deadpans.

‘Oh, I think the scowling at your mobile whilst I was in the queue may have tipped me off. It’s about that guitarist of yours, isn’t it?’

‘Obviously, yeah. Him, and the fact that men are the root of all evil.’ At this, Mary throws her hands up as if in worship, closing her eyes and humming appreciatively.

‘Too damn right, babe. Although I will say, dating girls can still be tricky.’

‘Yeah, but I reckon I’d probably feel like less of a fool if I was this hung up on a pretty girl. Instead I’m here whining about not getting the attention of a good-for-nothing, piece of shit, stupid fucking man. Christ.’ She reaches forward to take a sip of her coffee, looking somewhat defeated.

‘He still hasn’t texted you I take it?’

‘Not once. I don’t know what I did wrong, Mary. I thought he liked me. You saw him, you saw how Sirius introduced me. Didn’t he like me?’

‘I mean yeah, it looked like it. I’m sure you didn’t do anything wrong, so don’t go blaming yourself for it. Guys fall at their feet for you. Maybe he does want to text you, but can’t. Maybe there was an emergency so he’s been too busy to think about dating, or maybe he’s a flustered coward who can’t work up the courage to ask you out, or maybe he’s driven off to the Welsh countryside on a lads trip to fuck about with his mates and didn’t realise he wouldn’t have any service. Or maybe it’s none of those things, and he isn’t interested at all. Whatever it is, you can’t start losing all your marbles ‘cause you’re waiting for a text.’ Mary puts both her hands down on the table palms up, and waits for Lily to take them. When their hands are slotted properly together, she gives a gentle squeeze and continues.

‘You, Lils, are a wonderful woman. And you have a wonderful woman’s life full of all sorts of wonderful things. Don’t waste it fretting over some bloke in a band.’ Lily takes a deep breath.

‘You’re right,’ she sighs. ‘You always are.’

‘I know,’ Mary answers with a smile.

‘Thanks. For putting up with all this, I mean. I promise I’ll be back to my usual self now. Nice, normal, non-boy-obsessed Lily.’

The phone that had been set face down on the table about twenty minutes ago chooses this moment as the perfect opportunity to buzz. The vibration sends it inching closer to the boundary between the safe, charted territory of antique mahogany wood, and the sheer drop down to the floor as if it, too, aches for the sweet release of death. Fuck me.

‘Fancy checking that?’ Mary asks sweetly.

‘Nope. No. No can do. Not going to check it.’

‘You can if you want to. We’ve all been there, I won’t judge.’

‘I have more resolve than that. I just said I’m back to normal. I don’t care if it’s him or not, I’m not going to look.’ Mary just stares at her. It’s not in any way critical, nor condemnatory. If anything, it just looks like she’s waiting it out. Lily counts about ten seconds of pained eye contact before-

‘I’m so sorry, I have to look.’ She snatches her phone from where it’s ended up suicidally near the edge of the table, taps it to light it up and of fucking course. There it is.

iMessages: Unknown Number

hii :) it’s james. is this lily?

‘Is it him?’ Mary has one eyebrow raised.

‘Fucking- yeah, it’s him.’

Lily wants so desperately to ignore the message. Here is a man who’s made her feel so incredibly pathetic, so incredibly angry, and he’s just waltzed on into her notifications without a care in the world. She shouldn’t dignify him with a response. And yet.

Lily: Lily Evans speaking.

James: oh, yay! okay perfect. well, hopefully you know who i am then. i’m the guitarist from the gig, like four days ago? you wrote your number on my arm.

Lily: Mhmm.

James: listen, i’m really sorry i didn’t get in contact sooner

James: you remember how when we were chatting that night i told you i was a dunce?

Lily: I do recall.

James: that is the truest thing i have ever said in my whole life. i am a dunce. i am stupid to the point of being unsalvageable. i am, you might say, a total buffoon.

Lily: And all this to say, what?

James: i dropped my phone :((

Lily: That’s why you haven’t texted me for four days? You dropped your sodding phone?

James: down an entire flight of stairs!

James: completely killed it

James: basically shot it dead and then broke both its legs for good measure

Lily: Right.

James: so then i was going to text you on sirius’ phone, but sirius is awful for pranks, and i didn’t want him to do something dickish or pretend that i died or something just to mess with you

James: he’s my best mate and i love him half to death, but he’s a bit of a knob sometimes

James: you don’t deserve that

James: and then remus is a fossil who still carries around a fucking nokia brick looking thing that i don’t even know how to use like he’s someone’s grandpa

James: no luck there

James: and peter was away with his girlfriend for their anniversary

James: so i had to wait till i got a new phone sorted to be able to message you

James: i’m really sorry :(

Mary takes a sip of her hot chocolate and looks somewhat disdainfully at Lily’s phone.

‘Chatty, isn’t he?’ Lily pulls an apologetic face.

‘I promise I won’t text him forever, I’m just… processing. Give me two minutes and I’m with you.’

Lily: I’m out with a friend right now so I can’t chat. But fine, I accept your apology. I’ll call you later and we can talk properly.

James: okay! absolutely no worries. talk to you soon?

Lily: Yes. Talk to you soon. But I’m still angry at you, so you’d better be on your best behaviour.

James: yes ma’am.

Lily clicks her phone shut, and pinches the bridge of her nose.

‘What did he say?’

‘He couldn’t text me because he chucked his phone down the stairs.’

‘Oh?’

‘And I hate to say it but… I buy it. It’s something he’d do.’ Mary humphs, unimpressed.

‘You still want to see him, then?’

‘I- yeah, yeah I do. He’s really… he’s really nice.’

‘Well then. Let’s see how Mr Nice keeps up.’

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2024: #15

15. AUSTRIA Kaleen - "We will rave" 25th place

Decade Ranking: 50/153 [Above Systur, below Lesley Roy]

WHEN THE DARKNESS HITS AND WE CAN'T BE SAVED

WIRAM WI DAM DAM DA WE WILL RAVE

Fucking AMAZING chorus. At this stage of the ranking, I don't really give too many shits about the flaws in the product. And that's for the best because Holy Hell Kaleen that was NOOOOOOOT GOOOOOOOD (objectively). Fortunately it was still very entertaining (also objectively?), so.

Also at this point, you may expect some real emotional investment from my part and Kaleen is clear example of that too. SHE, more than anyone else, was the uncrowned queen of Millennial Monroehood this year. Not only did she provide a fucking BANGER from the time I was a middleschooler, she also SERVED:

LOOKS

PERSONALITY

POISE

JE NE SAIS QUOI

ATTITUDE

and also NONE OF THE VOCALS. 😍 😍 😍

And this comes on top of her song being leaked two months in advance off Marvin Dietmann's laptop, and becoming a viral hit among millennial eurotwitter BEFORE its full release ♥ (and I fully buy into the conspiracy theory that the leak was intentional to build hype.)

But yeah, this performance was heavily flawed, I won't deny that. "We will rave" is a great song and it's only 15th on my ranking, that's how far south that went.

It is equal parts comical and tragic that Marvin Dietmann arranged for his PARTNER (I assumed "business partner" at first, but apparently also partner in a domestic sense? Yeah I'm as surprised as you are that he likes the clam.) to be cast for Eurovision and then failed to provide staging for her that capitalized on her strengths.

Kaleen is a professional dancer and dance instructor.

She runs Marvin's Dance School FOR HIM, FOR A LIVING.

The leak showed a vibrant dance choreography that allowed her to (barely) provide passable vocals.

She's a natural born performer of the ~rhythmic arts~

So what does Marvin do?

HE REDUCES HER DANCE ROUTINE TO THE TYPE OF TARD DANCE ANYONE CAN EXECUTE.

HAS HER WALK AROUND THE STAGE. NOT DANCE. WALK.

AND HAD HER DANCERS SHIMMY HER AROUND IN LIEU OF A DANCE BREAK.

ALL SO THAT SHE CAN DELIVER THE BEST VOCAL PERFORMANCE... WHICH IS... WORSE THAN IN THE DEMO BECAUSE UM HELLO EARTH-TO-MARVIN:

YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS A DANCER, AND NOT A SINGER.

And all of that, I mean I'm sorry, is fucking hilarious, foremost. I know the live was "bad" but god it was really good at being bad. Casting your girlfriend and then FAILING to take her skillset (anything involving movement) into account is so uproariously funny to me. The staging was not bad on paper (it tried to increase momentum via the lasers and looks good if you mute), but it featured a slow, aenemic choreography that couldn't keep up with the music's light speed pace. That same dichotomy killed Halo, killed Edgar and almost killed "We Will Rave" too. This is the choreo you'd give to someone who cannot dance either due to being a block of wood (Dons) or old (Meri Bas.).

Even Firefighter, which is a fucking abortive attempt at a "dance song", had more tempo and life and let Nutsa (who is NOT a dancer) perform a break by herself. Christ Marvin.

(Granted it may be the outfit that forced Kaleen to perform a pantomime rather than a dance, but if that's the case... change the outfit? If those boots restrict your mobility, then don't wear them AT ALL, you know?)

However, as much as my appreciation for the live is based on irony and schadenfreude, I also just really love the song that much. "We will rave" is the best written girlbanger of this year - catchy, infectuous, smoking hot, and a wonderful throwback to the good Flemish techno of the early aughts. It's such a fucking banger in the style of Milk Inc, Lasgo, X Session, Touch of Joy, 2Fabiola, etc.

The prechorus and lyrics are delectable, and Kaleen is, despite her vocal inaccuracies, a charming hostess and style icon. Her personality is the saving grace of this live performance and the reason why I still embrace it in the face of its many mistakes. As disrespectful as Marvin's choreography was, she was flawless in its execution. SHE is what turns "We Will Rave" into a ride. The choreo and the results both did her dirty, but eh. Someone had to finish near the bottom. This year, that was Austria.

Now SAVOUR this last ever instance of them being fun in Eurovision because they'll only send salvaduncans from hereonout. If Eurovision isn't cancelled first, of course.

THE RANKING

[sandcobangevent]

The Uninjured Holmes

by @absolute-gibberish and @resetoaster

“We’re- uh- in pursuit! Of the- uh- culprit. Hah.” Three sets of heavy footsteps can be heard as John speaks into the microphone.

“Hurry Watson!” Sherlock calls out.

“I’m trying! God, she’s fast.” The metallic clang of a fire escape rings out in the background. 

John is just beginning the climb to follow, when it happens. 

There is a startled yelp and John’s rushed footsteps pause as he looks towards the source of the noise. 

“Shit- SHERLOCK!” 

With the sickly sound of bones snapping as the detective attempts to catch himself, Sherlock can be heard crying out in pain before hitting the ground with a loud thud.

John is by his side in an instant, tending to his injuries.

“Sherlock! Sherlock, hey! I need you to stay awake for me. Can you do that?” John pleads, already dialing 999. 

Sherlock hisses at the volume of John’s panicked voice. “John?”

“Yeah, Sherlock, hey- You took quite a fall there. No- Don’t try to sit up- Yeah there we go.” John audibly swallows. “Just try to stay awake for me, the ambulance is on its way.”

Sherlock makes a noncommittal noise in his throat. “Mmm…Okay…” Comes his slurred response. 

Sirens can be heard in the distance, getting louder as they approach. 

Sherlock winces at the noise. “Mnn…Loud…”

“Yeah, I know. I know. It’s okay, it’ll be over soon.” John reassures him.

The vehicle parks at the entrance of the alleyway they’re in and the siren goes silent as paramedics climb out the back with a gurney. 

“Fractured wrist and blunt force-”

John groans and shuts his laptop, he already knows how the rest of that goes and he does not have the energy to continue editing such a scene. 

He picks up his macbook with one hand and deposits it on the small rolling table by Sherlock’s hospital bed. John glances at the second device taking residence on its surface, Sherlock’s mobile, before resting his forehead on his and Sherlock's joint hands.

He goes through the detective’s injuries again in his head, remembering the masked pain he could read on his friend's face before he lost consciousness. 

John is ripped from his thoughts by Sherlock's ringtone. 

He looks over at Sherlock's now ringing phone, then puts his head back down, letting the call go to voicemail. Seconds later, the phone chimes, but John ignores it, choosing instead to listen to Sherlock's breathing. It's none of his business who texts Sherlock anyway.

After a moment, however, it chimes again, and again, and again. John groans and reaches for the phone, flipping the silent slider on and returning it face down to the table. It buzzes. John sighs and glares halfheartedly at the phone. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help himself. He picked up the phone and read the text.

From Unknown:

Pick up the phone.

Sherlock?

Are you okay?

Sherlock?

He wasn’t going to respond, but when he went to put down the phone,

From Unknown:

Please little brother, I just need to know you’re okay.

‘Little Brother’? Sherlock has a sibling?

Before he could second guess himself, John typed out a reply.

To Unknown:

Who is this?

From Unknown:

Sherlock, you should know by now.

I’m not Sherlock.

Then who are you and why do you have his phone?

His friend, Dr. John Watson. He’s unconscious, took a bad fall.

Friend?

Yes, friend. And you are?

Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock’s bother. Why are you on his phone?

You were being annoying. Sherlock has a brother? Since when?

Since he was born. How does you being annoyed condone this violation of his privacy?

Because I say it does. What do you mean you’re his brother? How haven’t I known this?

We are brothers. Do you not understand what that means Dr. Watson? As to why you weren’t made aware of my existence, I’d say ask him yourself, but I imagine that will not be very fruitful. He doesn’t like speaking of us all that much.

Us?

The family. He quite dislikes our parents and I.

Why?

Let’s just say our parents didn’t quite appreciate his ‘behavior’.

Behavior? You mean his ASD?

Unfortunately so. They thought the way he acted was disgraceful to the family name, and I, regrettably, took their side. He ran away when he got the chance, only 16 at the time. Opportunely, I had enough freedom to be able to check on him. From afar, of course. Hence the messages from before.

Wow. I never would’ve…

Guessed that? Yes well, I doubt he would much enjoy telling others of his role as the runt of the litter.

Don’t call him that.

Apologies, Dr. Watson. If I may ask, how is he?

Sherlock? He’s got a broken wrist and a concussion, so I’d say not particularly great, but he should make a full recovery.

Yes. And otherwise?

Otherwise, he’s just Sherlock.

Thanks, but I was hoping for more detail, doctor.

He’s pretty okay, I think? Brilliant as always, solving cases and whatnot. And I think he’s finally used to us, Mariana, Archie, and I. 

Who are Mariana and Archie?

Oh yeah! Mariana is our friend/neighbor/employee/boss(?) And Archie is our dog!

Oh.

Yeah, I think the four of us make quite a good team. The Listeners probably do too.

Listeners?

Yes, the Listeners… Of the Podcast… Do you not know about Sherlock & Co?

Evidently not. What is ‘Sherlock & Co.’?

Well, it’s kind of a series of recordings of some of Sherlock’s cases. It’s posted publicly and the Listeners are the people who listen to it. 

This could prove useful.

Oh really? How?

Thanks for your time Doctor Watson.

Um… Ok?

Afternoon.

Afternoon…

That was… odd. 

John decidedly shrugged off the rather abrupt farewell and placed the phone back on the table. He smiled down at Sherlock’s still sleeping form, taking the man’s uninjured hand back into his own.

Hours later, when they are both fast asleep, John will get a Patreon notification on his phone.

New Subscriber!

MH

[gdredd]

Since insta wouldn't let me post it:

I try (very very hard) to not get political here.

But, given the fact that roller derby relies very heavily this app to communicate, i felt like it was important to speak my mind:

Tomorrow, at some time, the app TikTok will be banned in the US. This bill, however, not only bans that app but potentially any non-US app that the powers that be deemed harmful. It is likely that the incoming president will save it to look like the hero. Regardless, this bill is a travesty.

For those who don't know, I am an airborne Army Veteran. I swore an oath to protect the constitution only for it to be trampled over for corporate and political greed.

We, as a people, do not have a lot of options to stop the coming censorship and political overreach that is going to happen in the next couple years.

However, we can effect the one the care about and the reason for these bans in the first place:

Money.

What You Can Do:

Delete Facebook off your phone[Yes,really].

Due to the way digital privacy laws work -and how behind our laws are about the subject- most of the data the companies that lobbied for this get is from mobile data scraping.

There is a lot of technical behind the scenes stuff that is complicated. But TDLR; the majority of their money comes from your data and they get that data via your phone.

Talk to your Derby teams about moving internal communication OFF M_ta Apps.

As a smaller, queer inclusive community, we do not have the luxury of kicking these apps completely. Our community lives and dies off social media engagement.

But! We can have our Teams communicate through things like band, tapatalk, etc.

Given the ways things are going, our community especially needs a way to communicate in ways that are not “standard” as we as Queer, Bipoc, and Neurodivergent inclusive people will be censored first.

Treat These Apps the Same Way Treat Us: A Business.

Due to Big Tech Monopolies these companies hold, it is impractical to expect us to -on mass level- these apps. However, we can stop giving them what they want: advertiser clicks and money.

Treat these apps like your team, art, or business launch page. Encourage your followers and friends to follow you in other places, and conduct your actual social internet life there.

Decentralize You Media Use, Connect with Your Local Community, and Buy Local.

Now more than ever, it is important to be present in the physical space. We will need each other more than ever. We will need to RELY on each other more than ever. Download things like next door or just go knock on your neighbors door with a gift and a smile.

Join your local knitting,gaming, whatever circle and get involved.It’s time to connect IRL. And I say that as a person who is borderline an Otaku.

Final Notes:

None of this is easy. It requires a radical shift in thinking and behavior. I know. But it's time.

As for me, I will be using Facebook and Insta as I described above: business pages. If you want to see me be more authentic, follow the link tree in my bio.

If you think I’m just being dramatic, please keep in mind: My field of study is Cyber Security and I am a huge Cold War and WW2 history buff. The writing is on the wall and I’d rather be wrong than ill prepared.

Finally: Breath. It’s scary, it sucks, but our ancestors have been here before. We come from a line of resistance and Joy despite struggle. We will be ok.

P.S. Get a library card. Seriously.

[daydreamsandafternoonteafics]

Let's Pretend It's Love- Chapter 11

banner by ren

It seemed like forever and a day since I’d taken the dreaded walk of shame.

Nothing was worse than walking through the streets of London on a Sunday afternoon with a pounding headache, disheveled hair and smeared makeup, a neck full of love bites, and a dress far too wrinkled and short for the Sabbath. Nothing however could compare to how stupid I felt when I arrived at my flat only to discover that I’d left my keys and mobile with the last person I wanted to see right now.

Everything I did lately seemed to lead to some curly-haired idiot with a crooked grin.

It’s like I couldn’t avoid him no matter how hard I tried. I wasn’t going to catch a break now that he’d agreed to join the wedding party and I was pretty certain he’d continue to visit the shop. It was almost like my life was slowly becoming a sitcom where Harry was the star and I was the butt of all the jokes.

I wasn’t too thrilled to have to ask my landlady for a spare key to my flat, trying hard to dodge her judgemental stares or to spend all Sunday in bed nursing a hangover but that was only the beginning.

The rest of my week seemed to take a downward spiral. Ollie had ripped most of the toilet paper to shreds, the heating system in my flat building was starting to act funny when it was getting cold outside and without a phone, I was isolated from the rest of the world.

All thanks to Harry.

It was like some kind of morbid karma. I was a good person. I often tipped bartenders and delivery guys who were fairly attractive and gave leftover takeout to stray cats when I took out my rubbish.

I deserve none of this!

It was Saturday and business at the shop was unusually hectic. As if my luck couldn’t get any worse Jessa was away on a family vacation. Perhaps it was a good thing that I had no mobile at this time because I’m certain I’d be calling Jess every hour on the hour. At the moment I was currently trying not to loose my patience with a rather elderly customer who was looking for a gift for her dear husband.

“Do you know what style he likes?” I asked in desperation silently praying that she would make up her mind.

“He likes brown. There’s quite a bit of it in his shoe closet.”

I nodded bitting back a sigh whilst taking my lip between my teeth.

“Perhaps he’d like a nice leather belt? Maybe with an engraving, yeah?” I asked. The woman pursed her lips.

“Shoes. I’m certain he’ll want shoes.” She replied.

I’m dying on the inside. I honestly can’t wait for this week to be over.

Just as I was about to review our shoe selection with the elderly customer for about a third time, the brass bell of the shop echoed in my ears. Not another customer. Not right now.

“Welcome to Darby’s Leather.” I greeted trying my best to sound enthusiastic as I turned to around ready to conduct more business.

But as soon as I laid eyes on the customer the annoyance I was feeling turned into pure anger. He flashed is cheeky grin at me. If looks could kill, Harry Styles was a dead man.

“Why don’t you have another look while I go see what this gentleman needs? I’ll be right back.” I announced to the lady not even giving her a chance to respond before I marched over to Harry.

His hair was up in a neat bun and surprisingly he chose to keep it simple with a gray jumper. Maybe he wants to be buried in conservative clothes.

“Styles, I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Hello, Presley. Alright today?” He asked politely showing off one of his dimples.

“Cut the bull, Harry. You have something that belongs to me.” I replied folding my arms over my chest.

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed but the smirk never left his face.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, love. Is Jessamine here?” He replied completely brushing off my last statement.

I scoffed.

“Don’t try and use Jess as a distraction. You have my mobile and I want it back, Harry!” I hissed.

That little crease that I’d become familiar with formed between his brows and he sighed.

“Honestly, I don’t know what you’re talking about. You seem a little stressed, Pres. We can talk about it if you want.” Harry replied whilst reaching over and placing a large hand on my shoulder. My level of anger just went from about 50 to 100 in .5 seconds. In the past month or so I’d learned a lot of different things about Harry. Now I’d learned how much of an annoying twat he could be.

“You can help me. I need a man’s taste.”

I was so agitated with Harry that I completely forgot about the poor old lady I was supposed to be helping. She tugged on Harry’s jumper, pulling his body in her direction.

“Absolutely,” Harry replied politely before sending me his crooked, dimpled grin.

Sometimes I wish I could just slap that stupid Cheshire cat smile right off his face.

I watched as Harry chatted with the elderly customer, nodding politely and flashing his dimples.

The woman smiled, seeming much more interested in what Harry was saying than anything I’d said to her all day. People seemed to be well receptive to Harry wherever he went. His aura was warm and seemed to draw them in.

I couldn’t deny the fact that he was likable. Sometimes I felt drawn in by his natural charm but other times I couldn’t stand to be around him and wanted to steer completely clear of him. I didn’t know how to describe it.

Thanks to Harry the woman had finally come to a decision. She strutted to the cash register with a smile.

“That young lad is so nice. Quite the gentlemen I must say.” She announced placing the box on the counter.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

“I reckon he’s alright.”

I stole a glance at Harry who stood in the corner sending me a small smile. I hope he doesn’t think that just because he helped me with a complicated customer he’s off my hit list. It isn’t exactly that easy.

“See you next time, Sara!” Harry exclaimed,waving to the woman as she gripped the box under her arm.

“Nice meeting you, Harry!”

Now he’s on a first-name basis with our customers. Am I the only one who’s not crazy about him?

“So, any plans for the day?” He asked sauntering over to the cash register and propping his elbows on the counter. I scoffed.

“We are not talking until you produce a mobile device. I’m just going to act like you’re not even here.” I folded my arms across my chest and turned my back to him, inspecting my fingernails.

“You know I’m far too good looking to just pretend I’m not there.” I could nearly hear the smile and feel the arrogance in his voice.

“I wonder where that noise is coming from?” I sneered. So he’s got dimples and nice green eyes. Big deal.

“I may just know where your phone is, but I can only locate it if you go grab lunch with me,” Harry announced.

I spun around.

“What are you playing at, Styles?”

He grinned, a dimple denting his left cheek. “You’re hungry and cantankerous. I know you want your mobile. So, lunch?” The question loomed in the air.

“You’re picking up the tab.” I announced with a groan giving in.

*******

The cafe that Harry had chosen was buzzing, tea cups and saucers clanking against each other and the loud chatter of customers filled the air.

The table we sat at gave a nice view of Londoners and tourist activity, the stream of sunlight giving me a sense of warmth in the chill of the cafe. I might actually be enjoying myself if it weren’t for Harry who sat across from me childishly attempting to make a face on his plate with the chips I’d ordered and flirting with the waitress.

“Do you always play with your food?” I asked, annoyance in every syllable as I sipped my coffee. Harry looked up at me and grinned.

“No, but who can resist chip smiley faces? S'fun.” He replied.

I rolled my eyes before reaching over and snatching a chip that was supposed to be an eyebrow from Harry’s plate. I had yet to recieve my phone. I honestly felt he was stalling just to piss me off. For all I know he doesn’t even have it and it’s lost and some random stranger is reading my text messages and scrolling through my photos of Ollie. I’m so stupid for agreeing to this.

I dipped the chip in ketchup before popping the whole thing in my mouth.

“Hey! You messed it up!” He scowled.

“Suck it-”

Before I could complete my sentence a pot of coffee was trust in my direction.

“More coffee?” Georgia, our waitress questioned sweetly.

I nodded, a blush creeping across my cheeks after realizing how inappropriate our conversation must have sounded thanks to me.

“See how bad she treats me?” Harry whined. I rolled my eyes. It was obvious he was flirting.

Georgia was pretty with big brown eyes that sort of reminded me of Penny’s, jet black hair and rosy cheeks. She may have been Harry’s type, I didn’t know what his type was and neither did I care. I couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable with his flirting, me sitting there like a third wheel. It didn’t help that he sucked at it either.

Georgia chuckled whilst filling my cup.

“Girlfriends do that sometimes, yeah?” A wide smirk settled on Harry’s face.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

A slow smile crept across the waitress’s face.

“I’ll come back to check on you lot in a bit.” She declared simply, turning on her heel and gripping tightly to the coffee pot.

“She’s kind of hot, don’t cha think?” Harry asked once once Georgia was out of earshot.

i chortled.

“I dunno, you tell me. I’m not exactly into girls.” I replied sarcastically.

“Right. Might ask her out. After all, you suggested we see other people, yeah?” He went back to do whatever he was doing with his chips.

I couldn’t help but feel sort of attacked. Like he was taking my words and using them against me.

“Yeah, and?”

“How was your night with that bloke at the club? What was his name again?” Harry interrogated a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. I think I get where he’s going with this. He’s mad at me for lashing out and embarrassing him at the bar. This is all Harry’s twisted version of payback. I reckon he’s expecting me to apologize but as cocky as he’s been today I’m not sure if he deserves it or not.

“That is not up for discussion, Harry.”

If someone paid me a million pounds I still couldn’t tell you the name of the guy I’d gone home with. There was absolutely no way I was giving Harry the satisfaction of knowing that.

His eyebrows rose.

“That can only mean two things: either it was so good you can’t remember or so bad you had to forget.”

I nearly choked on my coffee. Thank God for good reflexes. I was far too drunk to remember what my encounter was like but I wouldn’t be surprised if it had fallen in the latter category. I’d never let him know that. I glared at Harry over the brim of my mug.

He chuckled.

“You’re fun to mess with, Presley.”

I simply shook my head whilst gripping onto my mug, choosing to take the high road.

“Do you all need anything else? Perhaps a dessert, yeah?” Georgia had reappeared, smiling widely as she tucked a pencil behind her ear.

I assume she needed a moment to collect herself after finding out that Harry was single.

Yes, I’d like one of your sharpest kitchen knives, please.

Harry smiled, showing off his dimples.

“Tell me, are all the desserts on the menu as sweet as you?” He asked.

I wanted to laugh but I was too annoyed to. No wonder why he’s single. He has the worst pick up lines ever.

I watched as a blush crept over Georgia’s cheeks making them even rosier.

“You’d have to taste them for yourself.” She replied sheepishly.

"I’d love to.“ He smirked.

I rolled my eyes.

"Just the check, please.”

I still didn’t have my phone and I was getting increasingly irritable.

“Oh, of course. Be right back.” Georgia scurried away from the table and I didn’t hesitate to send a glare in Harry’s direction.

“You’re a total bell-end, you know that?” I declared. He shrugged.

“Makes me more attractive, I reckon.”

I giggled.

“Remind me to never agree to go anywhere else alone with you.” I reached over and snatched another chip from his plate.

“I kinda think you’re stuck with me, love.”

As annoying as Harry could get there were always those moments when he at least cracked a smile out of me.

“Here’s your tab.” Georgia announced returning once more, laying the black checkbook on our table.

“Thanks.” I murmured softly before she walked away. Harry opened the checkbook and his lips curved into a slow smile.

“Lemme guess, she gave you a discount because the thought you were cute?”

He shook his head.

“Even better. Gave me her number.” He replied.

“Proper. So now that you’ve scored a date how about you give me my mobile . I know you have it, Harry.” I replied surprisingly calmly.

All the frustration I’d been feeling before suddenly draining from me.

Harry sighed. “I reckon I’ve tortured you enough. ” He reached into his jacket pocket before retrieving a pair of keys and a phone, placing them in front of me. I feverishly unlocked my cell and my eyes widened at the number of messages and missed calls I’d received in the past week.

“Holy shit, Harry. Why didn’t you give me this sooner? I’ve got so many missed calls! I bet people think I’m dead!”

“So, we’re even now?” His green eyes met mine.

Even? Something about his word made me boil inside. I tossed my mobile andkeys in my handbag with a huff.

“Whatever even means to you, then yeah.” I replied.

Harry smiled.

“Sure you don’t want dessert? We can split it?”

I shook my head.

“I have to get home and return all these missed calls. Thanks a lot, Styles.” I replied standing up from my chair.

“Anytime.”

[gromky]

done pretending i know my way around html however horrific the soundcloud links look off mobil is just going to have to. none of my business

[broodsys]

weird and vivid dreams are p common for me but this one was remarkable lmao

pt.1:

entered a weird dilapidated building that was somehow associated with that old candy mountain meme? went there with a few friends. there was a speaker/mic thing in the top of the room that welcomed us with... smth that definitely wasn't part of candy mountain but in the dream it was so anyway. but we got the response right and the voice actually fucked it up which was funny. all this to get into a memey hotel?

pt.2:

once inside the hotel was weird. we were warned that bathroom doors don't rly lock (lovely...) and everyone but me was shown to their room and at first it was just me, my brother, and my friend - like, in the whole hotel, just the three of us.

pt.3:

more ppl started to show up at that point and i finally had to ask for directions to my room bc we were all just hanging out in the common area but it was becoming crowded. however the person running the hotel had changed seamlessly via dream logic to someone... who was kinda unsettling. this young bubbly woman who kept getting everything wrong but insisting we keep all her attempts (like little notes of her trying to figure it out) for some weird sentimental reason? and when my friend did the math the right way and ignored her attempt, she came over and very sadly pointed at it like oh... i hope you fill this out later... keep it going! like it was So Important to her it was weird. she was like that about everything. p unsettling after a while.

pt.4:

the ppl who showed up were... also weird, altho it only showed slowly. for quite a while it was just a vague sense of wow this might've been a mistake. then they started getting creepier - they'd bring us up endless flights of stairs and as long as we were bright and happy about it everything was fine, but if we complained (the rest under a cut bc it gets creepy/graphic at this point - but long story short, they were all demons!)

so if we complained they'd start threatening and attacking us. little cuts and things. so we stopped complaining p fast, even though going up endless stairs was exhausting. passed other ridiculously cheery looking ppl and began to wonder which of them were trapped like i was and which were the ones trapping them

pt.5:

at one point the guy i was walking with cut my leg enough to bleed and i jumped on criticizing him for staining my yellow pants. like, look at how obvious you made it! surely your boss won't like this, you're supposed to be subtle, right?

so he got real frustrated and we were by elevators (that ofc everyone was refusing to use) and he... just gave up and laid between the elevator doors and let them slice him in half (???) and i was like oh shit oh fuck okay BYE im OUT im DONE and began running down the stairs

pt.6:

turns out demon parts are still mobile and sentient!

so like... fucking demon viscera keeps getting bigger and chasing everyone and killing them. like this guy is fed the fuck up. i dart into some weird opening that puts me into a restaurant that hasn't realized yet, pop out from under a table, surprising a bunch of ppl (?) very much but i'm just flat out running now like idc. and fleshy bloody extensions keep moving across the floor and ppl are slowly starting to realize what's happening

pt.7:

end up encountering some Big demon woman and being like fuck fuck fuckkkkk im dead but she was busy killing other ppl (very graphically!) and there was a tiny bit of space around her so i just took the most ridiculous opportunity and while she was splitting some guy apart i just ducked around her and ran

much later realized she was actually on our side? or at least, not on the demon's side? so she had been killing one of the demons, but i had no way of knowing that at the time

pt.8:

dream really took a turn here. ended up in a group with... superheroes? like vaguely reminiscent of wolverine and gambit and two others i can't place. but it barely matters bc none of them were rly relevant except the unknown guy who gave me portal guns (am i chell now????) to try and get us all out of there but they didn't really work lm a o. they'd open portals but like, i could maybe put my fist through one and that was all. not! helpful!

pt.9:

reunited with the group of surviving humans from the hotel and it was so weird... trying to figure out what to do and where to go from here and communicating about which demons were on our side - or at least, killing the other demons instead of attacking us. then there was a weird commercial that played in the background that had a rly subtle nod towards someone having two dads and i was like 'ah that's nice' ?????????? ? ? ? ?

[needabeta]

The beta file is sure getting longer and longer... I'm finding it hard to navigate. Sometimes my browser hangs when scrolling. Have you ever thought of transferring it to somewhere else? I would suggest Notion, which has good database features. Or whatever app/site that's geared towards handling large data. If it's too much work, I'd be glad to help out!

Hello,

we are sorry that you have problems loading the page. It hasn't been the case for us so far and we haven't heard from anyone else about it, but then again people mostly get in touch to ask for an entry deletion or modification.

The Beta File it is indeed long, and we're not going to delete older entries: we sometimes get asks to modify early ones, which means some, at least, are still active. Putting entries on different tabs might also look more manageable, but might make people just not click on other tabs to check, which is a shame.

Needabeta is a small project that uses the Google Form to Google Sheet system, because it's quick and easy (being automated). And, to be fair, we also never quite expected to reach that many people ;-)

However, while we're glad to offer a fandom tool, we're also busy people. Adding extra work to transfer all the data to another platform has already been suggested, but it is not something we are able or willing to do. As it is, Needabeta is low maintenance and we (sometimes ;-) get positive feedback, so as long as it works as is, we will do our best to keep it up.

The Needabeta team is also made up of friends who knew and trusted each other before starting this project, and we share the same goals. None of us were Anon to each other.

And, finally, Needabeta isn't, and doesn't want to be, the only option for people looking for a Beta! If you wish to build your own Beta-finding community using a sleeker tool, with perhaps different rules and goals (deleting older entries/asking people to renew their entries on a schedule, making it more mobile-friendly, etc), there's room for plenty of other tools :-)

FAQ - Sign up to be a volunteer!

[an-aura-about-you]

I Was a Queer Salvation Army Bell Ringer

Part 1: Job Searching and the Application Process

I have decided to just bite the bullet and start writing about this to get it all off my chest. I had been doing some research, and there is still some research I intend to do, but it is beside the main point of this mostly anecdotal writing I intend to do. I also decided to make it basically a miniseries as opposed to one long post dumping about everything.

So here we go.

It was the end of October of this year, 2023, and I needed a new washing machine. Between that and the upcoming holiday season, I figured the time was right to get a seasonal job. Surely there would be plenty available, right?

Well, honestly, no. Even during this time of year, job searching was pretty miserable. Job searching has been pretty miserable in general, but even the added jobs to cover the busy Christmas season were pretty miserable. They have a reputation for being easy to get, but I didn't get any sort of word back from most of the seasonal positions I applied to. And that didn't even factor in my limited availability, which would have been the nail in the coffin for most retail positions since I wouldn't be able to help out on any infamous Black Friday sales.

But while hunting for a seasonal job, one listing caught my eye that seemed unusual: Bell Ringer for the Salvation Army.

Not unusual for the reason you might think, however. I had actually worked as a bell ringer for the Salvation Army before back in the autumn and winter of 2006. I was a college student and unaware at the time both of the Salvation Army's anti-queer reputation and my own place in the queer community. I was starting to get hints that I was queer in the classic bisexual-to-asexual pipeline, but I wouldn't learn the term asexual and realize it applied to me until 2010.

What I was surprised about is that I thought they were volunteer only for bell ringers NOW, because it had been some time since I had seen a listing. On top of that, the pay was. Ok, the pay wasn't good by my own personal metrics because almost none of the local job listings are paying well. But the listed pay was better than the state minimum wage. More on that later.

So I decided, "Fuck it. If they choose to hire me, I can't resist the irony of the Salvation Army willingly giving a queer person money."

I clicked the 1-tap apply button on my job search app.

This resulted in an email being sent to me asking me to apply online through the Salvation Army's website. Weird since that defeats the purpose and convenience of the 1-tap apply button, but whatever. I do the thing we all have to do nowadays where you create an account that you know you're never going to use again and apply for the job.

I get a call a couple of days later. It's the woman from the Salvation Army heading up the red kettle program. She asks me to come to the office and fill out a paper application. For some reason, sunk cost fallacy perhaps, I agree and continue with the Sisyphean effort of applying for this job.

When I actually go to the office, I find flyers for the bell ringing job. These advertise that no, they are only offering minimum wage pay for it instead of the range listed on the app. I wish I had taken a screenshot of it because I can't find it now, but my best guess on what happened is the job search app added an estimated range on the job, as it sometimes does, and I missed the part where it said, "estimated pay." My memory is not necessarily a thing to be trusted, but job listings aren't either, so at least we're a match on that.

I fill out the paper application, and I'm informed that orientation is next week. No job interview, no hemming or hawing, the simple act of applying has got me in. They're just looking for warm bodies that are mobile enough to ring a bell. This makes sense to some degree, and indeed it was part of the appeal of the job. I knew from past experience that it is a simple job that requires minimal to no training, theoretically the easiest money one can make without being born into it.

Just like that, I was once again a bell ringer for the Salvation Army.

[gremoria411]

There is a problem with looking at so many mobile suit designs in that you can wander quite far sometimes. Sometimes to odd places. For instance, I’ve been wanting to watch Gundam Narrative recently, but ended up watching Gundam Twilight Axis instead (they have a similar plot to me). Twilight Axis has the Tristan, a derivative of the Alex. Another derivative of the Alex would be the Full Armour Alex, which appears along with the Striker Custom in Mobile Suit Gundam Katana.

I’m gonna get two things out of the way first: I haven’t finished reading Gundam Katana, because I don’t like Gundam Katana.

Oh, the arts wonderful and I like a lot of the original mechanics, but I absolutely despise the protagonist (the plot’s not great but it’s essentially a blip compared to how much the main character bothers me).

I don’t want this to be just a rant post so I’ll be brief; The Protagonist of Gundam Katana, Ittou Tsurugi, is a prick. In that way that only a brat with a silver spoon in their mouth (on in this case, at their side) can be. He’s handed a super custom ms and a force of followers that follow him absolutely, despite the fact that he has no experience with command (and more to the point, no experience with failure). In addition, he’s also got those bad reader self-insert characteristics (always in the right, excels at everything he strives to do, knows things that he probably shouldn’t at that point in time). Two examples I just want to call out, the first being when he gets mugged at the docks by a group of five. The muggers attempt to justify their behaviour because of the ongoing economic depression and the claim that the Earth Federation spends more on its military than on other things. Ittou defeats them easily (fair enough), but then has the gall to turn around to them and say that they should work harder because of the recession. Ittou, a military brat, heir to his household and with a legion of followers to cater to his every need. The second example is that after fighting Zeon Remnants on the Moon (which is a whole other thing), Ittou has a chance encounter at the flight terminal with none other than Quattro Bajeena, who’s on the moon on business. Now, Quattro’s real identity in Zeta eventually became an open secret within the AEUG until Char’s Dakar Address. However, many members of the AEUG suspect Char’s real identity (Blex), fought against him in the OYW (Bright) or eventually hear enough rumours that they suspect anyway (everyone else). Ittou has never met Char, never seen Char so there is no reason as to why he should be able to recognise someone who fought with a mask throughout the entire One Year War. But he does, because he’s apparently just that good. (As an aside, the whole deification of Char post-OYW as this ace of aces bothers me a little, since he’s only really relevant to the White Base crew and there were plenty of other aces running around. It makes sense post-Dakar and post-Gryps, but prior he should be just another ace).

Anywho, the reason I wanted to talk about Katana is because I like quite a lot of it’s original mechanics. I say original, because it uses a lot of units that were originally from videogames, so I’m only going to be talking about the Striker Custom, Full Armour Striker Custom, Full Armour Alex and GM Striker Custom.

The Striker Custom is the main mobile suit of the series (and yes, I did choose that second picture to show off its weaponry). It’s probably my weakness for close-quarters suits talking, but I really like it. It is essentially a GM Striker with a Gundam Head and new backpack, but as custom units go I find that honestly quite charming. Despite the two pictures shown here it’s actually quite well-armed, starting with the standard Vulcan guns and twin beam sabers. Following this it has a further two beam sabres, snazzier ones with a longer blade, that can be combined into a beam naginata. It is also armed with a set of Knuckle Daggers, mounted on the backpack when not in use, which are essentially a sort of axe-shaped beam blade mounted in the hands (they can be seen in the second picture). It can also be armed with the Spark Knuckle (essentially an electrified, handheld brass knuckle, based on the electrical weaponry Zeon used) and the Burst Knuckle (punch to attach mine, punch again to detonate, because there’s totally no way for that to go wrong). It can also be armed with a 100mm machine gun (or as GBO2 is wont to, a GM II Beam Rifle), but typically isn’t, because Ittou’s a lousy shot. I really like the knuckle daggers - I don’t really think that they’d be more practical than a beam saber (longer reach and all), but they are cool as heck, giving the suit a boxing vibe that I quite enjoy. The Spark and Burst knuckles are typically used sparingly, which helps my opinion of them - the spark knuckle’s lovely, but there isn’t much defence against electric weaponry other than range, so it’s good it doesn’t get overused. The Burst Knuckle…. I don’t dislike it, it just seems horribly impractical. That said, I can only really recall it being used once, so it’s not like I typically remember it. The Striker Custom is also fitted with a “Demon Blade” AI System, a derivative of the EXAM system (*shot*), whiiiiich…… is fine? It’s probably the fact that I stopped reading before it became a major factor (I remember it being introduced, but little else) but I don’t really have a big opinion on it. It makes sense for a close-quarters suit to have it, especially as a trump card to pull out in dire situations. It’s more of the “can be mastered” system than the “WILL mess you up” one though (the original EXAM system was pretty harrowing, as I understand it and the HADES aren’t exactly a nice walk in the park either).

Form and armour wise, it’s pretty good. A large part of that is going to be inherited from the GM striker, yes, but the Striker Custom feels very agile, and light on its feet. It probably is the boxer influence (even the head looks like it’s got a head guard on), but I like it because it feels like a very straightforward design - get close and hit things. Specifically, I like how it feels like a “gundam-ified” version of the GM Striker in the same vein that the Gundam Marine Type “Gundiver” is to the Aqua GM. It really sets your mind going as to what other “upgraded GM’s” there could be (like a Gundam Night Seeker, or Gundam Guard Type). I’m fine with the colours - I typically dislike it if a protagonist suit is “just” white and blue, but in this case it’s actually got a purpose because the main rival suit, the Full Armour Alex, is Red, so it shows the contrasting personalities of their pilots (and it works pretty well with its pink beam weapons). I will admit that I’ve repainted it to Titans Colours in GBO2 though - it’s about the right time period for them to be around (some even show up in the early chapters) and honestly I like imagining the AEUG stealing one (plus, I think it looks really nice).

Now if only it had a better pilot.

It’s upgraded form is the Full Armour Striker Custom, build with spare parts from the Full Armour Alex. Cards on the table, I haven’t read up to the part in the manga where this shows up, so this is purely on the design and it’s weaponry (as seen in GB02). I do like the bulkier look (the original has a nice agility to the design, but I don’t mind the additional weight), however I do think that it’s overarmed. This is a common problem I have with Full Armour upgrades - they just cram a bunch of additional weaponry on for the sake of it. I like heavily armed suits, but just adding bulk to an existing design doesn’t work for me because the end result just ends up looking sluggish. Speaking of those armaments, let’s run down the list, shall we? The Vulcan Guns remain, as per usual. As do the twin beam sabers, though one of them has been moved to the front of the right shoulder. The Knuckle Daggers are now mounted in the…. What is a apparently supposed to be a shield, but looks to me more like a weapons rack on the left arm. There’s an EXAM unit 3-style double beam cannon as it’s primary ranged armament on the right arm - that’s essentially standard armament for FA (Full Armour) Units, so absolutely no issues there. It’s also got a back rocket cannon and chest missile bays, likely modelled after the regular FA Gundam, and rounding out the loadout is a set of missile pods on the legs. In addition to all this, it’s armed with a brand new sword weapon called Fukusaku - a long sword roughly three-fifths the size of the mobile suit itself. I find it to be a textbook case of a mobile suit being overarmed. I can see how - the striker custom brings its close quarters weaponry and the FA Gundam Brings its long-range weaponry, but it just seems to be fighting for space on the suit - the Beam Saber on the front armour (a very dangerous position, given what happens to beam sabers when they’re shot) and the “shield” that’s essentially mounting two especially large beam sabers on the left arm are just the most obvious examples. Fukusaku is odd, because it looks completely unique, and all the sources I can find state that it’s a cold saber - essentially an electric saber, typically used when stealth is required, such as on the Efreet Nacht. Thing is, it looks to be an mobile suit sized Katana, meaning it was forged, but it still has beam effects over the…… Hamon? Of the sword (that wavy bit on katanas that’s formed as the sword cools). Oddities aside, it makes sense that the main suit in “Mobile Suit Gundam Katana” would recieve a fancy katana, but it doesn’t exactly help with the suit having two other paired melee weapons already. I do like the bulk added by the additional armour to the Full Armour Striker Custom, it creates the sense of a slower, more methodical fighting style (“one strong cut” to the striker custom’s barrage of punches), but I think the weapons weigh it down too much, especially since I know it’s going to be used in space. Honestly, I feel like if you took off the Knuckle Daggers and Chest Missile Bays, maybe moved the saber mountings around, it’d look much better. I like the splash of purple added in the paint scheme, but I don’t notice it’s absence much in GBO2. The Full Armour Striker Custom’s design is busier (especially around the chest), so it doesn’t look quite as good in Titan’s colours, but there’s some lovely details on the back (like the leg thrusters) that really pop.

The GM Striker and GM Striker Kai are largely identical, save for the backpack. Indeed, the Striker Custom is essentially a modified GM Striker Kai (with perhaps a little of the blue destiny units sprinkled in). They are armed differently however, with the GM Striker Kai being armed with beam sabers like the ones the Striker Custom has, and the regular GM Striker being armed with a twin beam spear that can convert into a scythe. I like the regular GM Striker, I think it’s an excellent up-armoured version of the GM, with the twin beam spear being an appropriately imposing melee weapon for it. I very much like the colours as well, with a lovely green, yellow and blue-grey scheme. The blue visor also draws attention nicely to the head. The GM Striker Kai is the space-use version, having the backpack of the Striker Custom in addition to its weaponry. Overall, I think it’s a nice GM unit with the additional armour doing a lot to distinguish it from the pack.

Lastly, the Full Armour Alex. I found it quite difficult to find a decent picture of the Version seen in Gundam Katana. The Full Armour Alex is…. a little of an odd one for me, because though I know it’s just differing artist interpretations, I tend to consider the original (Green and White, right) and the version seen in Gundam Katana (Red, Left) as separate designs (for the most part). I’ll go over the one seen in Gundam Katana first. It’s piloted by Kotetsu, a cyber-Newtype of True Federal in the series (True Federal have a vested interest in having as many newtypes on their side as possible, but they don’t seem to be going for the inhuman experimentation that the Titans did.) who functions as an early, personal foe for Ittou, here to drop subtle hints about the organisation and provide an actual challenge. The Full Armour Alex is essentially a brute - it’s got the strength and power to easily match most anything else in one-on-one combat, and functions as True Federal’s one-man clean-up crew. I think it’s used well in the series - it’s a FA unit, with lots of weaponry that’s geared towards ranged combat - a natural counter to the Striker Custom, which focuses on close-quarters. It spends much of its initial appearance holding Ittou back by sheer volume of fire alone - he’s forced to do little else but dodge. But it’s meaty firepower never allows it to feel unthreatening.

Design-wise….. it’s just fine. I like the red colour scheme in the context of their pilots - Kotetsu’s far more emotion-driven than Ittou, so it makes sense for their contrasting personalities. But in the context of red mobile suits in Gundam….. it doesn’t work. Red is a signifier of Char, or something related to Char (or a char clone), but the Full Armour Alex is neither. I have been seeing some “regular” rivals using it as of late (see the Pixy (LA), but in those cases it just comes off as forced. It’s just red because it’s a rival and rivals are red. The form and body’s fine - it’s a good example of the artist’s style and the muted colours really mean your attention’s drawn to the knees, skirt, head and gun. As a full armour unit, it doesn’t get many dynamic melee shots, so it’s imposing and weighty stature helps it look imposing, particularly the back rocket cannon and it’s targeting camera.

However, I must confess I completely prefer the Original (Green and White) design, as featured in Mobile Suit Gundam 0080 MSV. It just feels so much sleeker and faster, selling that the NT-1 is an improvement over the original Gundam. The green and white colour scheme is still eye catching, clearly drawing a distinction between the original and its additional parts, while helping to sell just how protective the armour would be, since the parts of the original Alex peeking through help emphasise just how beefed-up it is. Furthermore, you can easily believe that there’s space in the armour for the chest missile bays, without significantly compromising its protection. It’s only got two other integrated weapons - the back rocket cannon and the twin beam cannon, but it feels like an appropriate amount of additional firepower. It feels significant, since they’re both clearly visible on the design and the grey plays off the rest of the colour scheme - there’s only a few other small details, like the collar and “ribs”. The Full Armour Alex does retain its built-in arm gatlings, but they cannot be used since the armour covers them. I think the fact that the armour doesn’t cover the leg thrusters, and has dedicated gaps for the AMBAC system are why it feels so much sleeker to me - the Full Armour Alex was intended to be a backup plan for the Chobham Armour, and looking at it it might have even been more agile. I also very much like the head - I assume it was just artist interpretation, or perhaps the NT-1’s design hadn’t been finalised when it was made, but the yellow eyes, red forehead jewel and sleeker face really appeal to me, while helping it have its own identity other than “just the Alex, but bigger”. It’s just really rather neat.

[sanctuaryoftheodd]

Chapter 4: Princess Bon Bon Sunshine

I am Princess Bon Bon Sunshine, the most important person you've ever met. The true hero of this story. I don't know who you've been reading about until now, but I'm certain all of them are complete losers and not as worthy of your time as I am. Not that you are worthy of MY time, but I'm kind enough to allow you to bask in my presence for a while.

I've spent most of my 28 years of life striving to be the ideal princess. I paid an astronomical amount to the best spellwriters to maintain my beauty, cutting out everything imperfect about me. I've taken the best tailors in the multiverse under my employ. I've driven entire species to extinction to get the best beauty products. All that effort, all that money, all those lives lost, it was all worth it to have this reflection looking back at me.

That long wavy blonde hair, those beautiful violet eyes, those luscious red lips, ahhhhh!! If only a prince can find me right now! He would fall madly in love with me instantly.

But alas, I'm still lacking a prince. And now I must continue waiting in my tower.

...specifically, I mean the tower in my Fortress-grade Berry Blitzkrieg Battle Cruiser. My father has tasked me with the troublesome task of conquering the dragons. My time is worth too much to be sent out into the boonies to kill some worthless lizards. However when I said that to daddy, he just shakes his head and gives me a long speech about how I failed to get him an heir and how I'm draining their budget dry. What did he expect from me? Of course I'd spend 1/10th of the treasury on spellwriters so they can make it so I don't need to poop anymore. Have you ever heard of a princess wiping her own ass? UNTHINKABLE!

Ugh! This is so pointless! I've been here on this freaky assed planet for over three years! I have to stay secluded to the airship fortress because none of the bases have any of the basic necessities! Like flushing toilets and hair salons.

"Excuse me, Lady Sunshine?"

My assistant, Lexine, suddenly chimed in. What could she possibly want?

"In your narration, you talked about hating the fact the bases lack flushing toilets literally one paragraph after you mentioned having your ability to poop removed by spellwriters. I feel like that may be a contradiction."

Well, points like this is why I will be docking my assistance's pay.

"You don't pay me."

Will you shut up already? I'm in the middle of narrating my own life here!

"Speaking of which, maybe you should set the scene? Your audience would appreciate having something to imagine."

I SET THE SCENE WHEN I FEEL LIKE IT! DAMMIT!

...Fiiiine, I'll set the scene, but I'm doing it for ME!

I'm in my royal work study, which is only slightly smaller than the royal game room, and significantly smaller than the royal bedroom. (I have to have room for my quadruple queen sized bed after all.) Anyways, I try to spend as little time in this room as possible.

The room was designed to look like a work area, with bookcases lining the walls and filing cabinets. None of the books were manga or anything, they were like, legal books and shit. Or at least I assume that's what the books are, they exist solely for the work aesthetic. I sometimes will do sexy photo ops in here to give off the impression that I'm more busy than I really am. Nobody suspects a thing.

Anyways I was busy stamping my signature on forms relating to the war. They have a whole stack for me to do, probably because everybody hates me for some reason. I eventually gave up and made my assistant do the stamping.

I shift my focus on the war updates. As per usual, morale is on the rise, they are making excellent progress, and they should be ready in two weeks. They've been saying the same exact thing for three years now. I'm beginning to think they are deliberately wasting my time. I've complained to daddy about all this, but he just gave me the whole spiel about how wars take time to prepare and mobilize. I still don't see why we can't charge right in and get it over with!

After I checked all my updates, I got a little bored and went on Mutter. I posted one of my brilliant Haikus earlier today. It perfectly encapsulates my feelings of loneliness and desperation that I still haven't found my perfect boy toy yet.

Most of the responses were praise. Sycophants. Suck ups. People who will say anything to get into my good graces. My kind of people!

However, then I saw it. The one post that would haunt me for the rest of my days. The one so horrible that I only could stare agape as the world faded into grey around me.

ANOMALY!

Back when she was living under the male identity of "Nameless," I caught her sleeping with my mom. Not only did I have to live with that image burned into my brain, but it was a pain to cover that all up so my father didn't find out. Cheating was unforgivable for all of my father's wives. Even as the only heir he managed to produce, I could very well have lost my status as a result.

Ever since then, she's been a thorn in my side. She started trolling me on Mutter, and that's when the most indefensible thing she's ever done happened.

"HOW DARE SHE SUGGEST I CAN'T COUNT!" I yelled out. My assistant stopped what she was doing and turned to look at me, crooking her brow.

I got up and paced my office, my assistant giving me the side eye the whole time. I didn't care. Someone was doubting my intelligence on social media! That is what's important here! I can't let this slide again! She needs to be dealt with once and for all!

I responded to her Mutt with a promise of JUSTICE! Then I bolted from the room and briskly made my way to the treasury.

I flung open the door to the treasury, slamming it against the neighboring wall. This makes everyone's eyes dart directly at me, halting their progress in counting gold coins and matter vials.

"We must buy Mutter!" I shout to the stunned accountants.

The only way I can enact justice is to find her exact location. If I owned Mutter, I can simply get her location from that.

One of the accountants nervously approached me. "Your highness. I'm sure you have your reasons, but Mutter is worth more than you can afford."

I snorted. "My net worth is like 40 billion, I can afford it."

"B-but milady, that's 40 billion in assets, you don't literally have all that money."

I sharpen my gaze "Are you saying I can't count?"

The man trembles at my fury. See? This is how it should be.

"We-we'll get right on it, lady Sunshine!"