#i already have plenty of screenshots of him i just went through and grabbed some stuff from 100 years quest

[astarions-catgirl]

growth

[matbaerzal]

Love Notes | B. Boeser

Summary: Brock surprises you with a weekend camping trip. He sets up a scavenger hunt with clues for you to find out where he is waiting for you. A/N: I got this idea way back in June when I was out camping, and I finally put my mind into finishing it. let me know what you think 💕 Warnings: FLUFF, like one swear, gossip girl references & camping... Words: 3,5K Copyright © @matbaerzal 2020 All Rights Reserved Tagging: @powerblais��� because the photo is a screenshot of her gif 😅 & @tkachukme​ @captainkreider​ @yeeehaw-hockey​ @tysojost​ @puckbitchesgetmoney​ @canadianheaters​ @shirarihena​ 

Coming home from work on a Friday during the off-season you’d grown used to having Brock welcome you home, Coolie and Milo following after. So when you open the door and find the house empty you can’t help the frown that takes over your face. Though, as you see one of his perfectly folded notes on the fridge door, a smile takes over.

Brock liked leaving you little notes, he’d been doing that ever since you were in elementary school. Back then they were filled with stupid jokes or questions that could’ve definitely waited until after class. Now, they were filled with words of love and adoration. Regardless, they had always made you smile. You’d known him forever, you grew up on the same street, went to the same school and your parents had always been really close.

You walk over, putting your bag on the kitchen counter, before unclipping the note from the magnet on the fridge. You unfold it, scanning the paper quickly. It’s a bit lengthier than his usual notes, so you sit down on the island whilst you read the first sentence.

I hope you had a good day at work, sorry I’m not there to hug you and kiss you.

You smile to yourself, leaning your chin on the palm of your hand before reading the rest

But, I thought we could go camping this weekend. I’m already there, probably just finished setting up the tent by the time you read this. Before you join us there are a couple of things I need you to pick up for us. Each clue will bring you to a new location where you’ll find a new note.

Your first clue: The first time we kissed

Love, Brock x

This was new to you, not Brock surprising you with a weekend getaway, but the scavenger hunt. You bit your lip in excitement, reading the note again as your mind drifts off to when you first kissed - to figure out what his clue could mean.

You and Brock had a lot of almost-kisses as you were growing up. But, your first actual kiss happened when you were sixteen years old.

“All you ever do is watch gossip girl” he rolls his eyes, you poke your tongue out at him. “You’re free to watch it with me,” you say. Before you know it he’s laying his whole weight on top of you, and you can’t help but laugh in surprise.

“What are you doing?” you say through your laugh, and he has the audacity to shush you. “Brock?” you try to push him off of you, his weight crushing you, but he doesn’t budge, “will you calm down? I’m trying to watch,” he says, pointing at the TV.

“You’re the absolute worst” you gape at him. He finally looks at you with a smile, and he’s a lot closer than you thought, though he doesn’t seem to mind. You feel your heart beating against your chest as his eyes scan your face.

Like so many times before, your eyes drift down to his lips, and you feel his breath across your face. Like so many times before, you think you might actually kiss him - but at the sound of the end titles of an episode you’re hit with your reality.

You can’t kiss Brock - he’s your best friend. You don’t want to risk losing that for some silly crush.

You clear your throat, turning your head away from him, struggling to reach the remote so you can play the next episode. You don’t notice the defeated look in Brock's eyes as he adjusts his body, so only half his weight is on you, making it easier for you to reach the remote.

The two of you watch a few more episodes, but all you can focus on is him. You’re painfully aware of his hand and how it’s on your waist - his thumb mindlessly rubbing back and forth over the fabric of your hoodie. Though, even through the layers, you feel it - and it’s torture. His actions are so sweet but you know he means nothing by them, that he’s just mindlessly doing it.

“Hey, this show’s actually good,” he speaks up, making your focus shift to his voice instead.

“You’ve been laying here for 4 episodes, and you’re only just now realizing that?” you laugh.

“Well, in my defence, I wasn’t really focusing on the show”

“Oh? What were you focusing on, then?”

“What I always focus on,” he says matter of factly, confusing you further.

“And that is-?”

“You.”

A breath hitches in your throat, and you suddenly notice how his arm has tightened around you - as if you’d drift away if he didn’t hold you close.

“I always focus on you” he confirms with a low voice, but it feels loud to you, and his words make you dizzy.

He lets his hold of you go a little when you try to turn in his arms. It’s only when you face him again that you notice the deep breaths he’s taking, and the nervous look on his face. You’re close again, like before, and the same thought comes back.

His lips are parted, and they just look so soft and you wonder what it would feel like to just-

Suddenly you don’t have to wonder anymore as he presses his lips against yours. The kiss is cautious at first, but as you melt against him, it grows firmer. Your fingers thread through his hair like you’ve done this a thousand times before - like it’s what you’re meant to do.  

Anything else around you disappears as the two of you stay wrapped up in each other. The conversation about what it all means is a worry for another time - though, you’re not really worried about it anymore.

You touch your lips, remembering how his lips felt against yours then - how they still feel. Going over the moment again you try to figure out where his next clue might be. Then, you remembered how he’d bought you a box set of all the gossip girl seasons, and you wonder if he might have hidden it in the box.

Sure enough, when you take out the DVD covers, you find a note stuck to one of them.

Your second clue: The first note I gave you.

This time, you know exactly where to go as soon as you read the clue. Setting the note down on the counter next to the first one before going to the bedroom to get changed for the trip.

Your parents always told you, that at first, you found Brock annoying, all he wanted to do was shoot rubber disks at the wall by his garage - and even though he was polite and invited you to join, you could think of a million things that would be more fun.

Eventually, you grew bored of having to find other things to do, so you decided to take Brock up on his offer - only to discover that it wasn’t as easy as it looked. So instead, you decided put up targets on the asphalt in front of his garage for him to try and hit. Your teddybear, Cuddles, got the worst of it.

You were both 6 when Brock gave you his first note. It was more of a drawing really, of him hitting you right in the stomach with a puck. But the letters written with blue crayon unmistakably spelled out “I’m sorry”.

After getting changed and packing a few essentials, you grabbed your car keys along with the note and drove over to his parents’ house. You’ve barely made it out of your car before his mom comes out to greet you. “Hey honey,” she says rushing over to you, “Hi Laurie,” you lean into her hug. “Hey Duke,” you say, seeing him standing in the doorway over her shoulder.

“We’ve got something for you” she sings, her whole body language telling you there’s something she’s keeping from you. But you don’t press for it as you reach the doorway. Laurie goes into the house as you give Duke a hug. She reappears in a second with a sleeping bag in her hands. “Here you go, have fun camping” she sings, “thank you” you smile, giving them both one more hug before going back to your car.

With a million thoughts running through your head you get back in the driver seat, finding the note tucked into the side of the sleeping back before throwing it in the backseat. Before you unfold it you look back at Laurie and Duke, the same secretive smiles on each of their faces as they wave at you before closing the door. Before you overthink and look into things that might just be your imagination running wild, you unfold the paper.

Your third clue: Our first date

Though you shared your first kiss when you were sixteen, you didn’t have your first actual date until you were eighteen - according to Brock, anyways. See, after you kissed, the two of you just started dating, you didn’t need to go on “dates”, because you knew each other so well already.

And every time you went to the movies together or went to the lake - you didn’t really consider that to be dates, because you’d done all that before even when you were just friends. And while you weren’t too fussy on what was a date and what wasn’t, Brock had been insistent on one evening, in particular, being your first date.

You were out for dinner, just the two of you, celebrating the draft and him being selected by the Canucks. It wasn’t until the desserts came that he realized - “this is our first date”.

“What? We’ve been on plenty of dates” you laugh at him.

He doesn’t exactly disagree, but you know he’s about to contradict your words anyway.

“We’ve never dressed up and went out to a fancy restaurant before though,” he points out.

“True, but that doesn’t mean we haven’t been on a date before”

“Ok, so name the last time we went on a date, then” he challenges with a smile.

“Well, last Wednesday-”

“Being on the lake with my parents doesn’t count as a date” he argues.

You laugh, holding your hands up giving up the argument, “if you want this to be our first date, then - this, is our first date” you smile softly at him. He raises his glass, and you clink yours against it, “you’d think we’d be running out of firsts by now” you muse.

“Oh no, my love. We have a lifetime of firsts ahead of us”

It hits you then, just how well you and Brock know each other. No one else would have been able to answer that question but the two of you. Even if you asked your mom what she thought yours and Brock’s first date was, she’d just joke and say the first day you met - back when you were kids.

Well, there’s one other person that knows of that detail - the owner of the restaurant you went to, Nora. You and Brock had been there many many times by now and she would always come over and chat for a little while whenever you were there. After the two of you we’re old enough to drink she’d given you both some wine on the house - laughing as you both pretended to like the taste, just to be polite.

You could already see her as you parked your car across the road from the restaurant. You practically skip across the road after looking both ways.

Nora perks up when she sees you - the look she gives you reminds you of the way Laurie and Duke had looked at you earlier. As she hugs you and ushers you over to the counter you don’t have time to look into it too much. She disappears into the kitchen momentarily, coming back with a take away bag for you. You see the folded note attached to it instantly.

“Your favourite,” she winks, and you can smell the sweet chocolate chip cookies without even taking a peek at them. After you’ve taken the bag from her she looks around to see if anyones looking before bending down and getting a bottle of wine, quickly putting that into a bag as well.

“Nora, you don’t have to-” you start, only to be interrupted, “I know, but you know I can’t help myself” handing the wine over to your reluctant hand.

“Thank you” you smile at her.

“Anything for my favorite couple” she brushes it off.

You give her another hug before you walk out, skipping across the road to get back to your car. Once you’re back in your seat you remove the note from the bag, setting it down in the passenger seat along with the wine.

You bite your lip as you unfold the note, your eyes scanning the handwritten letters with wonder.

Your final clue: The first time I told you I love you

You picture the scene vividly in your mind, not having to think twice before putting the car in drive. You’d been to the small secluded clearing by the lake countless times with Brock, and shared many treasured moments with him there.

If you had to have guessed where the scavenger hunt would end up, it would be your first guess, and you loved him for being so predictable even in his adventures. As you drive down the familiar roads you think back to that moment, years ago, when you first uttered those words to each other back when you were seventeen.

You and Brock jumped at the chance to go camping together the first week of summer. Packing his car full of essentials, and only essentials. Because, according to Brock, a bunch blankets and pillows, fairy lights and s’mores were all under that category.  

He’d found the spot a couple weeks ago when he was hiking, and he instantly thought of you when he saw it. The walk wasn’t too long, and Brock carried most of your stuff anyways - you almost had to fight him for the few items you were carrying.

You sighed out after everything was finally set up, sneaking your arms around Brocks waist as his arm slung across your shoulders. Then, you went for a swim, staying in the water until your skin turned pruney.

After that, Brock got started on the fire as you set up your chairs right next to each other, and got all your snacks ready. When your stomachs were filled you fell into a comfortable silence, and you fished out a book from your bag that Brock had given you a little while ago. With your head leaned on his shoulder, you opened the book for the first time.

A surprised chuckle leaves you as a familiar looking piece of paper falls into your lap.

“I’m sitting right next to you, you know,” you say, showing him the folded note. “Well, it’s been in there since I gave it to you,” he says matter-of-factly, “not my fault you didn’t open the book until now”.

You unfold the note carefully with a small smile on your face, shaking your head at him. You do a double take as you take in the words he’s written down for you.

Three words, eight letters

You look up at him, a breath catching in your throat when you meet his eyes, “Brock-”

“I love you” he cuts you off. The way it leaves his lips is effortless, and it makes you completely melt. You’re torn between wanting to wipe the smirk off his face and kissing him. You decide on the latter, grabbing his cheek - leading his lips to yours.

You don’t kiss him for long, quickly realizing you didn’t say the words back to him, and they all but stumble out of your lips “I love you too”.

Your car pulls up next to his and you breathe in deeply when you step out, double checking that you have everything before you make your way over to the start of the path. Your steps are hurried, eager to see him, to wrap your arms around him - to kiss him.

You see the hints of the sun setting through the trees, and you know you’ll just about make it to see the colors change.

You hear the water before you see anything and as a twig snaps under your foot you hear Coolie and Milo bark out for you. Coolie comes running up to you, and you kneel down to greet him before letting him lead the last of the way to Brock.

As the site comes to view you instantly feel relaxed. There’s a soft breeze, warm against your skin. The sun reflecting on the tiny waves in the water, the clouds have turned light pink as sunset comes near.

Your breath is taken away from you as you look over at Brock, he’s hung up what seems like hundreds of fairy lights in the trees by the tent. You’re barely able to look away from the scene as Milo comes up to you. You look at Brock in awe as you crouch down to pet Milo, giving him a short kiss before standing up to walk over to Brock.

“What’s all this for?” you say as you approach him. He doesn’t answer as he takes your items out of your hands, setting them down before kissing you deeply, making your mind go blank for a moment, getting lost in the kiss.

“Hi,” he finally says - you’re not able to get a read on the look on his face.

“Hey” you laugh, confusion still evident in your voice, looking at the scene again as if to make sure it was real.

Then, he takes your hand, biting his lip as he plays with your fingers, he almost seems out of breath now that you study him closer. He takes a deep breath before a smile takes over his face as he speaks.

“I’ve been searching for the perfect moment, for the perfect way to do this. Because you deserve the world - and more. This idea popped into my head months ago, and fuck- waiting till the season to be over and then waiting for both our schedules to clear has been near torture”

He huffs out a laugh before continuing, “but, I wanted everything to be perfect, even though I almost slipped up a couple times - like the time I was practicing what to say as you were sleeping and I thought I woke you up. You’re my world, and I couldn’t imagine my life without you-”

The way he says your name then, is unlike any time before. It’s not like how he says it in the morning or when he’s about to give you something that reminded him of you. It’s almost like when he’s telling you he loves you, but it’s so much more than that.

Your heart beats a mile a minute as you predict what he’s about to say, but nothing could’ve ever prepared you for what he does next. He takes a small velvet box out from his pocket as he gets down on one knee in front of you.

“Will you marry me?” his voice breaks a little as he takes in your glossy eyes, tears threatening to spill from his own as he opens the box to reveal the ring.

“No way-” you cry, the words stumbling out of your mouth. You can’t believe it, how lucky you are to have this man in your life and here he is, asking if he can spend the rest of his life with you.

A laugh leaves his lips at your words, because although you’d said “no way” your whole body was screaming “YES!”. A hand covering your quivering lips, a tear falling down your cheek as you nod. He stands up wrapping his arms around your waist, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you nuzzle into his neck.

Your feet lift off the ground as he spins you around, a joyful laugh leaving both your lips. He carefully sets your feet back on the ground and your hands slide to thread through his hair, urging his lips to yours.

“Yes- yes of course, I’ll marry you” you murmur, he nudges his nose against yours - leaving another kiss to your lips. Then his hand slides up your arm, gently taking your hand again, leaving it to rest on his chest. His other hand, still grasping the box comes between your bodies as he takes the ring out before grasping your hand again.

A breath catches in your throat as he slides the ring onto your finger, your free hand caressing his cheek, wiping the stray tear away.

You’d spent the day reminiscing over your past with Brock and now your mind travels to the future. Looking forward to spending it with him, and knowing that you’d have each other through the good and the bad - like you’d always had, like you always will.

[saphyhowl]

Chapter one: Encounter

Here it is. I know it’s not very long but I will continue tomorrow for part two. The fic I asked your thoughts about. Hope you like it. Again sorry for the long wait.

Edit: I added part two

“And on your right, you may admire the work of Jacques-Louis David, “the Coronation of Napoleon” painted in 1807. It took the artist two years to finish the painting. It is not only imposing because of its size but also by the…”

A young woman in a formal suit guided a group of visitors through the gallery in the Denon part of the Louvre museum. While the visitors admired the painting, the guide waved discreetly at a young man standing on the sidelines. He looked visibly bored but managed a timid smile as the woman waved at him. He strode towards her, his boredom noticeable even in the way he walked.

“I’ll be done in a few hours, why don’t you grab something to eat or maybe take a stroll outside. I know museums are not the funniest thing to see for a 19-year-old,” the woman said with a chuckle.

“No worries sis, I’ll grab something to eat at the “Paul” bakery. Text me when you’re done?” the young man answered.

The sister nodded and went on to describe the other paintings to her group. She glanced one last time at her brother’s figure among the visitors. The young man put his headphones on as he strode towards the exit. He scrolled through his phone to find the playlist that would suit his mood and nearly bumped into an elegant-looking man.

“Sorry,” he mouthed at the elegant man and continued walking.

A moment later he sat on a bench munching on a sandwich. Someone sat next to him but he paid them no mind. A tap on his arm. He looked up. It was the elegant man from before.

“Well, we meet again,” said the elegant man.

The brother smiled politely and took another bite from his sandwich.

“You can call me Comte,” the gentleman added as he stretched out his hand.

“Louis,” answered the young man as he stared at Comte’s outstretched hand, visibly refusing to shake it.

“What is your favorite painting in the Louvre museum?” Comte asked.

“None. I don’t like museums,” Louis answered as he immediately took another bite from his sandwich. Hopefully, that way the weird man would stop talking to him.

“I thought so. A pity. Paintings are a heritage, they have many stories to tell us,” Comte commented.

“I am sure they do sir,” Louis said as he looked away in annoyance.

“Le Sacre de Napoleon is a masterpiece. However, you must visit the Musée d’Orsay as well. The paintings there are filled with life,”

“I will,” Louis said with a loud sigh.

“Make sure to go with a knowledgeable guide, otherwise you might miss a few gems,” Comte added.

Louis nodded and continued to munch on his sandwich.

“Well, then Louis. I bid you farewell. Take in my beautiful city of Paris, she has yet to offer you plenty of treasures,” Comte nodded his head and walked away.

“What a freak,” Louis mumbled to himself.

He was about to reach for his soda bottle as he noticed a leather wallet next to him. Louis cursed under his breath as he knew what he was about to do.

A few hours later.

“Are you sure he never left the Denon area?” a young woman asked the security guard as he replayed the security footage.

“No Mademoiselle Sophie,” the security guard answered.

Sophie saw the footage for the fifth time. There was her brother passing through the gates leading to the Denon area at 1:32 pm. She held her head in her hand.

“This cannot be happening,” she whispered.

“It’s been past closing time Mademoiselle. Have you tried his cellphone again?” the security guard inquired.

She nodded and took out her phone. She tapped on her brother’s contact and held her phone to her ear.

“Come on. Come on. Answer idiot…”

She heard the familiar beeping that announced her call had gone straight to voicemail.

“Maybe he went already home Sophie?” suggested someone behind her. It was Alicia, one of Sophie’s colleagues.

“Maybe you are right Alicia. I will go check and if not then I will go straight to the police. He knows nothing about Paris and it’s getting late,” Sophie decided as she went to grab her bag and coat.

Sophie watched the city lights pass by the window as she sat in the subway. The closer she got to her stop the more nervously her knees jumped up and down. She practically ran towards her tiny apartment. She dropped her keys a few times because her hands trembled with anticipation. She opened the door and shouted her brother’s name. She shouted again as she entered her apartment. The apartment was dark and was exactly as she had left it before heading to work this morning. She shouted her brother’s name again storming into each room. No one.

Sophie crouched down and called her brother’s phone one more time. Voicemail. She looked at her phone and selected another contact. The sharp light from her phone hurt her eyes or maybe the tears she held back started to sting her eyes.

“Hello?” a voice came out of the speaker.

“Mom? I-I lost Louis,” Sophie managed to say before bursting into tears.

A few hours later, Sophie sat in front of a police officer, telling the middle-aged officer what had occurred. Sophie tried her best to recall any detail that could be decisive for the investigation. Another officer handed her a paper cup with what seemed to be coffee. She gave them a faint smile. The middle-aged officer spoke with Sophie it took her a moment to understand their explanations. All of this seemed surreal. The busy police station even at night, the neon lights. The office was busy with people doing paperwork. Sophie was sitting there filing a missing person report for her younger brother just like in any trailer movie. However, the heavy truth was nowhere comparable to what any series could transmit. She had lost her brother for whom she had always looked out for. Sophie felt as if part of herself went missing for good that day as well.

The police officer gave her a business card with a number on it.

“If you need to talk, we have a few people here who are specialized in helping families cope with the situation,” the officer explained.

Sophie took the business card and thanked the police officer.

“We will be at the Louvre tomorrow to investigate possible leads. We will let you know if we find something,” the other officer added.

Sophie managed to blurt out a few words of gratitude and exited the station. She caught sight of a familiar man leaning against a car.

“Antoine,” Sophie whispered and smiled.

The man named Antoine held out his hands to take hers. She rested her forehead against his shoulder.

“This is a nightmare,” she said as series of sobs took over.

Antoine held her in his arms until she had calmed down a little.

“It is not your fault. He will show up again, ok? Let’s go back to your place and get some rest,” Antoine suggested as he opened the door of his car.

The next day, at the police station.

“Our colleagues have scanned every profile of the visitors and staff on that day and none of them match with the man we see here,” explained the policewoman to his lieutenant as she circled the zoomed face of an elegant-looking man.

The lieutenant gazed at the different screenshots from the security footage showing the missing Louis with an unidentified man.

“How could anyone pass the heavy security of the Museum?” the lieutenant wondered.

“We found something else,” the policewoman showed him another screenshot.

The lieutenant looked closer and recognized Louis. The young man was following the suspect through a door.

“Where does that door lead?”

The policewoman turned pale.

“Now now Marie, it cannot be that bad,” the lieutenant encouraged the policewoman.

“Nothing,” she answered.

“What do you mean exactly with nothing?” the lieutenant asked.

“A storage room for flyers and whatnot. There are no windows, no shafts, nothing that could lead them out, except the same door they went through,” Marie explained.

The lieutenant sat back in his chair. He had seen a lot of cases in his lengthy career. However, this one was fairly new and slightly worrying.

“I’ll make a call. This, dear Marie, is bigger than I anticipated,” the lieutenant added before getting up to make a call. This case was out of his hands.

 #Trouverlouis

Paris was on fire. At least the social network was. The social media of every Parisian was showing and sharing one hashtag, a plea for help from a desperate sister. Sophie was in the kitchen, her phone on the table could not stop buzzing ever since she had followed her friends' advice. She had placed her faith in the algorithms of Instagram and every other network that might help to obtain hints on her brother’s whereabouts. However, after a month, the shares and posts resulted in lots of public empathy but few leads.

Sophie sat on a chair and stared at a picture hanging on her fridge door. The unidentified man who took away her brother Louis. She remembered the day she went to the police station with her mother this time. After they had told them another unit had taken over the case because of the lack of leads, her mother had thrown a tantrum. She insulted every policeman with every imaginable name. However, all the commotion dulled out as she saw the portrait one police officer had handed to her, explaining that she was allowed to use it to see if anyone in her circle could identify him. Ironically, no one recognized him.

Sophie looked at the portrait, eyes filled with pure hate. The pure-hearted, art and history passionate Sophie had made a vow to personally strangle the life out of this man. She grabbed her purse and went to the Louvre as she did every day for work. However, this time she went to stand for the umpteenth time in front of the door through which her brother never came back.

The door looked insignificant as usual, noted Sophie. She was alone in the area, it was yet too early for the storm of visitors to invade the halls of the Louvre Museum. Sophie sighed. The police had explained that it was a mere storage room of two square feet. She had looked at it many times during the past weeks. She lazily put her hand on the doorknob and opened the door, she knew what to expect.

Sophie let out a scream. The stack of cardboard from yesterday was gone, the pile of flyers and maps as well. The storage room looked more like an old corridor from the Louvre with a velvet rug, old paintings on each side of the walls.

“Mademoiselle Sophie,” a voice whispered. It came from the far end of the corridor.

Sophie fumbled with her purse and took out her phone to take a picture.

“Mademoiselle Sophie,” the voice repeated.

Sophie searched through her phone and was about to leave a voice message to her boyfriend Antoine.

“Sophie” another voice whispered.

Sophie shuddered; she knew that voice very well. It belonged to Louis.

“Antoine, I think I found a lead. I’ll send you a picture,” Sophie whispered on her phone, her voice a mix of fear and joy.

She released her finger from the recording button. She was about to tap onto the picture she had just taken to send it to Antoine. Something or someone pushed her into the corridor causing her to drop her phone. The door slammed behind her and Sophie was drawn towards the other end.

“No no no no. Let me out! Let me go! Please let me go! Alicia! Anyone! Get me out of here, please!”

On the other side of the storage door, Sophie’s phone rested on the floor. The screen shifted as a call entered, the name “ANTOINE” appeared on the screen. The phone buzzed in the still empty museum.

[sevenkittensinatrenchcoat]

Saw My Mutuals Doing a Hunger Games

So, I also messed around with the Hunger Games Simulator. I called it Macavity’s Jellicle Choice. Macavity managed to defeat Old Deuteronomy and decided that the next cat to ascend to the Heaviside Layer as to survive a Hunger Games. 23 cats just die. The 24th gets reborn.

I am so terrible with the simulator that I didn’t even have images for the characters, so I didn’t take many screenshots. Instead, I took notes of what happened.

We’ll begin at the end:

This is the only screenshot you’re getting. All of the nicknames I used are very stupid.

Here are the notes I took as I played this thing:

Content Warning: It’s a Hunger Games. Violence and Death. Also featuring my dark sense of humor.

Bloodbath

Pouncival and Plato fought over a bag, but Pouncival was too small to win that fight and ran away.

Tantomile Inventory: Shield x1

Jellylorum managed to scare Tugger away from the Cornucopia. Nobody was surprised by this.

Victoria Inventory: Bombs x5

Bombalurina Inventory: Shield x1

Munkustrap has made the Cornucopia into his base.

Rumpleteazer, Asparagus, and Grizabella got into a fight. I assume it must’ve been some sort of Emotional Ballad Competition, because Grizabella was victorious.

Etcetera Inventory: Canteen x1

Mungojerrie is hiding in the Cornucopia. Munkustrap knows this and is allowing it.

Day 1:

After all that “excitement” (The Bloodbath wasn’t that bloody tbh), there’s still much to be done.

George and Coricopat got into a fight, but it was just practice and they’re fine. George won, btw.

Pouncival has already managed to hurt himself will foraging for food.

Jemima Inventory: Hatchet x1 (The baby has plenty of sponsors, I assume.)

Bombalurina caught some fish, but that’s not that exciting.

Grizabella murdered Alonzo with a trident. I’m starting to become concerned by how good she is at killing people.

Tantomile just fell in a lake and drowned. Quite the anticlimax.

Allience! Electra, Cassandra, and Mistoffelees are on the prowl!

Tumblebrutus managed to scare Tugger into running away. I think “run away” is Tugger’s strategy at this point.

Munkustrap Inventory: Nameless Fruit x3

Jellylorum Inventory: Spear x1 (She made it herself. All those years of teaching kids crafts have paid off.)

Victoria beat Mungojerrie in a fight, but let him go because this was either a practice round or the announcer for the family-friendly TV station that airs The Hunger Games just claimed they were “fighting” in the bushes.

Etcetera Inventory: Canteen x1, Food Item x1 (Thank you, sponsor! …Okay, it was me.)

Mass Funeral 1:

RIP Rumpleteazer. (Lean Lynx) Her ballad wasn’t angst enough.

RIP Asparagus. (No Fuss 2 Pronounce) He just wanted to play Growltiger.

RIP Alonzo. (True Himbo) That was kind of pathetic.

RIP Tantomile. (She Psych) Your death was so boring.

Night 1:

Serial Killer Grizabella got Electra.

Plato became Enemy Number 1 for some unknown reason and he was hunted down by Coricopat, Tumblebrutus, Tugger, Jenny, and Munkustrap.

Remember how Pouncival injured himself? He got pricked with tiny thorns and bled out a few hours later.

Etcetera just screamed for help AND IF SOMEONE DOESN’T HELP HER I SWEAR TO GOD-

Some strange archery accident involved Victoria, Skimble, and Cassandra occurred. Cassandra’s dead now.

Jellylorum isn’t dead, but she’s unconscious, so someone should really look into that.

Misto and Jemima are snuggling!

Bombalurina stabbed George and left him to die. A bit harsh.

Demeter and Mungojerrie have been spotted holding hands. These two Macavity survivors have turned to each other for emotional support.

Day 2:

Allience! Jerrie, Victoria, Coricopat, Misto, and Munkustrap are on the prowl!

Serial Killer Grizabella is stalking Jemima! Luckily, she hasn’t got a chance to kill her.

Skimble stabbed Tugger.

Etcetera has found her mom. Jellylorum has kept her safe for the day.

Demeter Inventory: First Aid Kit x1 (From a sponsor)

Jennyanydots Inventory: First Aid Kit x1 (From a sponsor, cleverly giving medical supplies to someone who might be able to help everyone. Hopefully, no more kittens will end up like Pouncival.)

Mass Funeral 2:

RIP Electra (Book and Bell): She didn’t expect Grizabella to go so insane so quickly.

RIP Plato (Not Too Big): He was played by the same actor as Macavity, so maybe the mob got mixed up.

RIP Pouncival (Can Do Handstand): He died from a boo-boo.

RIP Cassandra (Pharaohs’s Girl): I’m still not sure wtf just happened.

RIP George (Could Be Admetus): I almost completely forgot about him, but the audience will remember.

RIP Tugger (Tugs): Skimble took their rivalry too far.

So, that was a massacre…

Night 2:

Coricopat just randomly died from thirst. Remember that Tantomile drowned. One twin died from too little water, and the other from too much.

Victoria is having nightmares. Just thought you should know.

Jerrie, Skimble, Grizabella, and Demeter have set up camp together. After everything that’s happened, sharing a camp with Grizabella sounds like a terrible idea, but everyone’s under a lost of stress and not thinking clearly.

Misto has built a shelter and Jenny is allowed inside. Good choice of ally.

Jemima tried to sing herself to sleep. Poor baby…

Munk killed Jelly with a poison dart. It was quite brutal. I don’t think he meant it that way, but the game only ends after most of them are dead.

Bombalurina has begun to question her sanity. I think this question applies to nearly everyone.

Etcetera, after possibly witnessing Munk kill Jelly, appears to have snapped. She hacked Tumblebrutus to pieces with a weapon that I didn’t even know she had.

Day 3:

Stalking Jemima was a bad choice. Serial Killer Grizabella now as a sprained ankle.

Allience! Victoria, Jenny, Misto, and Jerrie are on the prowl!

Munk died from thirst, and possibly from guilt.

Bomba and Skimble are friends for today.

Etcetera Inventory: Food Item x1 (Sponsor. I had to do something)

Mass Funeral 3:

RIP Coricopat (He Psych): His death matched up with his twin’s.

RIP Jellylorum (Bitches Be Jelly): That was really fucked up.

RIP Tumblebrutus (Fliptastic): He was probably in the wrong place at the wrong time.

RIP Munkustrap (Fearless Leader): At the end of the day, he couldn’t kill his family.

Night 3:

Etcetera is gazing at the stars, looking for a Dead Parent-Shaped Constellation.

Victoria managed to defeat Serial Killer Grizabella, but she let her go.

Jerrie and Jemima are snuggling! I think he might’ve adopted her. Normally, that would be Skimble’s job, but…

Demeter found those poison darts Munk was using and killed Skimble with one of them.

Meanwhile, because everyone’s parents are dying tonight, Misto shot Jenny. I think he might’ve planned it. The Hunger Games brings out the worst in everybody, sooner or later.

Feast!

Smart Cats Who Stayed the Fuck Out of It: Mistoffelees and Demeter

Bomba just grabbed some food and ran for it, so she’s also pretty smart.

Etcetera’s nervous breakdown continues. She killed Victoria in an ambush, not caring who she was killing at this point.

Serial Killer Grizabella managed to behave when she ran into Jerrie and Jemima. They grabbed their stuff and left.

Day 4:

Misto is ready to die, but Jemima won’t kill him and Jerrie went out to hunt, so he’s not there to do it for her.

Grizabella died of dysentery. This isn’t even a joke.

EVENT: Tsunami (Later to be Dubbed “The Tsunami of Tears”)

Survivors: Mistoffelees, Mungojerrie, and Demeter

Little Etcetera got swept away. Bomba and Jemima both sort of crashed into each other, leaving them stunned for long enough to drown.

We just lost all of our kittens :,(

Mass Funeral 4:

RIP Jennyanydots (Mouse Mother): Misto betrayed her, but she probably didn’t mind.

RIP Skimbleshanks (Railway Cat): I’d like to propose a ban on poison darts.

RIP Victoria (Little White Cat): Another kitten in the wrong place at the wrong time.

RIP Grizabella (Cat Who Sings Memory): She died of dysentery.

RIP Etcetera (Little Tiger Cub): *wails*

RIP Bombalurina (Whittington’s Friend): She played very pragmatically, but lost from last-minute bad luck.

RIP Jemima (Sillababy): *wails louder*

Night 4:

After all the bullshit they’ve been through, the three survivors just decide to duel each other to the death now. Misto defeats Jerrie and Demeter. None of them were trying very hard.

Anyway, Mistoffelees won. I didn’t rig this so my favorite would win. I don’t know how one rigs a Hunger Games Simulator. I would’ve preferred to save a kitten.

If it isn’t obvious by now:

Mean Minx: Mungojerrie

Leading Lady: Demeter

Pied Piper’s Assistant: Mistoffelees

So, that’s what I did on this fine Tuesday morning.

Hunger Games Idea Inspired by: @fluffytuffles and @0zzysaurus​

I didn’t use the same template, but I wouldn’t have thought to do the thing if my mutuals didn’t start it.

As for the backstory I set up before hand, Mistoffelees magically kicked Macavity’s ass and rescued Old Deuteronomy. They figured out that it was all a magical nightmare Macavity had sent to torment the tribe. Misto’s magic allowed him to fight the nightmare for the longest. Demeter and Jerrie and also built up some Macavity resistance over time. Everyone who came close to winning had slightly higher Macavity resistance for one reason or another.

Anyway, they all woke up from the nightmare and everyone was actually fine.

The End

[silver-wield]

Okay, as requested a few days ago, a Cloud and Aerith analysis. I feel like I've spent a lot of time in chapter 8/9 today lol 

Ok, spoiler warning for ppl who haven’t played – do I still need to do this? Eh ok, (I tag FF7R spoilers as final fantasy 7 remake spoilers) and it’s gonna be reasonably long.

Also, this is one person’s interpretation of the scene, so if you disagree that’s cool and we’ll agree to disagree.

You’re also gonna have to excuse the janky quality on some of the screens, I’m grabbing them from Youtube and it’s frustrating af trying to get the exact moment I want.

Other analyses if anyone’s interested.

Shinra HQ vision scene (Cloti/plot analysis) 

Chapter 3 (Cloti reblog) 

Tifa character analysis 

Aerith Resolution (plot analysis/theory – I should probably update this since I’ve had other ideas since then) 

Train graveyard (not really an analysis, but I got some sweet screenshots of Cloti) 

Clotiscrew tunnel analysis 

Cloti reunion analysis 

The Promise Analysis 

Andrea’s approval (Cloti ask response) 

Leslie analysis (not mine, but a good read) 

Cloti action touching 

Aerti friendship analysis 

Cloti body language chapter 3 

Cloti healthy disagreement 

Cloti post heliboss battle (chapter 15) 

Clerith playground scene 

Cloti body language plate fall 

Cloud and Barret friendship 

Resolution scene analysis (A) 

Barret character analysis (chapter 13) 

Cloud character analysis (Honey Bee Inn) 

Cloud character analysis (Barret's death) 

Now, strap in and enjoy the ride.

Recap time!

Okay, our delightful heroine (I will rein in the sarcasm, but Aerith aggs me when Cloud says no and she ignores him. No means no.) and our moody af hero have finally got done with the flowery side quests, kiddos, Rude and the giant hands of crash crash boom oops there's an invisible wall there minigame trip through sector 6 to reach sector 7.

Aerith says “let's take a break.”

Cloud says, “No.”

They take a break anyway.

(I've already done the slide analysis, link above)

Back down from the slide and it's time to go. Aerith opens up the underground link into sector 7 and we're venturing into awkward goodbyes.

So, we're starting with Aerith being chipper and cute with the quips. Standard stuff. It's possible she's feeling regretful they're parting, but I've said plenty of times that of everyone in this, Aerith has the best poker face. There's very few times she lets that mask slip and lets us see what she's really feeling and it's usually in times of intense stress. This isn't stressful, although she was feeling down a few moments ago while talking about Zack, so maybe that'll make her a little easier to read. For now, though, she's fronting like a boss.

Hmm interesting. He's definitely thoughtful here. So, I'm gonna have to put together some possibilities.

He's clearly mellowed his attitude towards her – he was proper stroppy at her house the day before, shouting and so on – so this isn't negative. We could say he started feeling more positive towards her through their interactions over the day or maybe when he saw the whole Rude bit and realised she's not quite what he first thought. Or it might have been when he saw her looking downcast about not high fiving or it could've been their chat on the slide that finally thawed him out towards her.

And Aerith's the same. Her smile falters just a bit and she can't meet his eye. Maybe she knows they have no reason to meet again or that her mother told him not to see her. We don't know for sure, but it's possible, otherwise why is she disappointed? She could expect to see him again. They could make plans. It could be meta!Aerith knowing that Cloud is probably better off not getting to know her.

Eugh dammit. Does anyone know how hard it is to analyse people's motives when you can't see their faces clearly? I bet this was on purpose, thanks Square.

I mean, having to go by the above data I've mentioned, they could both be feeling the same lingering regret intuitively. You know like how you just get the sense how someone's feeling? That.

Their poses are identical, and coupled with the slightly awkward intonation on “so” I'd look at this and say this comes across like a couple of teenagers who kinda like each other and don't know how to take the next step. You know, that kind of immature I have no idea what I'm doing with my life kinda deal. That's not to say it's romantic, especially not from Cloud. He's an awkward introvert. Aerith has no social skills. They're not friends and up until five minutes ago Cloud was annoyed af at her. That'd make for an awkward goodbye.

Aerith laughs, Cloud doesn't, and she moves aside so he can leave. Looks like the moment’s over.

Before going, Cloud turns back to ask if Aerith can get home ok. This looks like polite concern, which I'd expect considering they just came through an area full of monsters, mech and bandits. If Cloud wasn't concerned, I'd call him a douchebag. His eyes widen a little as he speaks, but it's not that same kind of expression he pulls whenever we're suspecting a visit from real!Cloud. This is SOLDIER!Cloud asking. 

(I've said that typically Cloud's eyes go very wide as a hint that his real self is reacting to things, but widening eyes on their own do not indicate real!Cloud. It's something about the way he does it that shows it's not quite right for the SOLDIER persona we usually see. I can't explain it properly, but it's likely something the devs have done to his microexpressions on purpose to differentiate between the two and without knowing exactly what I can't put a pin in it. All I can say is when it looks like real!Cloud is expressing himself and when it isn't because there’s a difference that I’ve picked up on.)

This is flirting. Plain and simple. Head tilted, little smile, crinkling eyes. She's amused and teasing him in a flirtatious manner and her dialogue backs that up, although at the same time the tone she puts it in also sounds quite matter of fact, like she's genuinely asking what if she wasn't ok? That likely does appeal to the protective SOLDIER side of Cloud. He wants to be known as the hero. Still not romantic.

That's what I like to call a shit-fuck-bollocks moment. The realisation he should take her back home and make sure she's safe, but then he's also got to get back to sector 7, and this is all SOLDIER!Cloud's debate. There's no sign of real!Cloud and there's a quick decisive result that he should do the right thing, which is why he says he’ll take her home.

This is nothing like in the honey bee inn later when you see the clear back and forth of his eyes darting around as he argues with real!Cloud about dancing to get Andrea's approval.

And Aerith laughs again because I think she's aware how ridiculous it is that he'll walk her back when he needs to get home. She was teasing the entire time, but it looks like it went over Cloud's head – colour me unsurprised.

I mean, there's no romantic undertone to her expression here. It's genuine amusement and I'd definitely say friendship towards Cloud.

Ah the image that certain people hang their hat on. Let's get this one done.

Aerith says she has a backup route for emergencies that's safer than the one they used. You can hear Cloud start to speak—- ask a question because the sound is a “W” -- then cuts himself off and smiles. That smile is a mix of bemused and amused. 

For anyone who doesn't have a stupidly large vocabulary and thinks those two are the same thing:

Bemused

adjective: puzzled, confused, or bewildered.

Amused

adjective: finding something funny or entertaining.

Cloud's bemused because back at the start of the collapsed expressway he literally asked if there was a better way and she avoided answering. So, he's caught her in a lie and what can he do about it? Nothing. That's why he's all "of course there's a safer route".

And then we're back in control and moving onto the next part of the game.

Conclusion:

Well, they're awkward. Both of them. Cloud is an introvert with mental issues and Aerith has no social skills and a terrible personality flaw in which she bosses everyone around and doesn't listen.

I wouldn't say they're friends, more like comrades. Cloud's still very resistant to her company even after she helps him save Tifa.

[lavender-rebellion]

The Reality of Existence  Chapter one

Masterpost

AO3 Link

Ships: Analogical and Royality

Description: "Thomas looked around his living room and felt a stone in his gut. He had four freshly human sides before him. Four human, terrified, grown adult men who had never lived a day in the real world. Four men who didn’t legally exist, permanently in reality. They were in his care now, and that dormant panic made itself known once more.“ A story about learning to live and learning to love. But also about being roommates, first jobs, being an adult, and that friendship really is the strongest force on earth. They all have things to teach and things to learn, but that’s part of being human. (They have to learn how to do that too, though)

TW for a panic attack and what can be seen as depression symptoms.

Thomas closed the door noisily behind him, letting out a heavy sigh and quickly making his way over in front of his TV, the familiar spot lending him some comfort and he could feel most of the anxious energy fall from his shoulders. He took a moment to take in the new perspective of his living room the spot gave him, before rolling his shoulder and finding the threads inside him. Thomas tugged at the one thrumming with more nervous energy than usual, watching Virgil appear on the stairs nearly immediately. Seems he was waiting for him, which was fair considering that Thomas had been thinking of this all day.

“It’s bad.” Virgil agreed quickly, wrapped up tight in his hoodie with darker bags than usual. Thomas still wasn’t sure if they were natural or makeup, and Virgil always dodged the question. Honestly, he didn’t know which one was more troubling, if Virgil apparently hadn’t gotten a good days sleep ever or if he thought it was a good fashion choice. Speaking of bad fashion choices…

“I knew it, they hated it!” He despaired, running a hand through his hair. Virgil nodded solemnly.

“There is an unusual amount of icky-sticky energy in here.” Patton rose up, hands on his hips. “If I didn’t know better I’d think your name was Vicky!”

Thomas let out a small chuckle at the Fairly Odd Parents joke because while it wasn’t Patton’s best it was clear that he was trying to cheer him up. Virgil sent a tense smile at the other side, who seemed to pick up on the mood and clapped his hands together.

“Alright then, what’s the problem, kiddo? I’ve got my listening ears on and I’m ready to ear you out!”

“It’s his new shirt!” Virgil chimed in, gesturing. Patton looked confused.

“My friends hated it!” Thomas clarified, “I looked awful all day, and they kept sneaking looks at it with this look on their face..”

“Thomas have we not already gone over your cognitive distortions? It was only a few months ago, surely you remember?” Logan rose up, flipping through a planner. He looked up to give Thomas a disapproving look, before returning Patton’s wave and sharing a smile with Virgil.

“Well yeah, but this is different.” Thomas insists, feeling a little silly but mostly like he needs to change his name and go into hiding.

“Look, Thomas, there is only one option and you know it. It’s time to move away to a remote village and become a hermit, never showing your face again.” Virgil cut in, chopping his hands down to emphasize his point. He nodded along, crossing his arms and wondering how long it would take to pack up his entire house and buy a new one. One without internet access, he couldn’t ever go online again.

“Uhhhh….” Patton looked up at Virgil dubiously. Logan shot him a similar look.

“That’s a bit of an overreaction, is it not? We can’t just go into hiding over a bad ‘look’.”

“Watch me.”

“What’s wrong with his shirt, again? I’m lost.” Patton asked.

“And why are you reacting so strongly to this, it’s hardly the worst thing you’ve worn out of the house,” Logan added, and Thomas clutched at his chest, offended. What could he possibly be talking about, and why was he so quick to remember it? Was it recent? Had Thomas just been walking out of his house looking like he got dressed in the dark for ages?

“Not helping, Lo!” Virgil ran his hands over his face, dark bags still perfect afterward which lent weight towards the natural theory..what were they arguing about again? “Anyway, that’s not the point, the point is that Thomas looked ridiculous all day and it’s all on camera!”

Oh right, that.

“OH! That’s right, you were filming that collab today weren’t you?” Patton jumped, clapping his hands together again. “How did that go?”

They all looked over at him, disbelieving, before turning back to the conversation.

“Everyone is going to see my stupid shirt and laugh, and screenshots are going to be all over Tumblr and there will be memes-”

“Are you really that worried about a bunch of 13-year-olds making fun of you?” Logan interrupted. Thomas ignored him.

“-and people are going to think I’m silly and then they’re going to realize that I’m a weird 30 year old who records himself talking to himself and posts it on Youtube-”

“Tumblr is not just a bunch of 13-year-olds, there’s plenty of young adults and adult adults. I mean, we’re on Tumblr, and so is Joan.” Virgil argued.

“Plus 13-year-olds are really mean,” Patton whined. Still ignoring them.

“-and they’re going to stop watching my videos which means I’m going to steadily lose money until I’m making none and then I’ll have to get a stuffy desk job-”

“That’s true. It’s like the John Mulaney skit, ‘13-year-olds are the meanest people in the world because they will make fun of you, but in an accurate way’.” Virgil quoted.

Patton gasped, “Oh I love John Mulaney! He is a very funny man.”

“That’s ridiculous, there’s no factual evidence that 13-year-olds are meaner or more observant than any of the ages near them.”

“Clearly you’ve never spoken to a 13-year-old.”

“-and I’ll spend the rest of my days living in a grey, unfulfilling haze where my coworkers make fun of me and send office emails around full of my earliest vines and those awful screenshots-” Ignoring them, just continue ranting.

“We are both sides, I’ve met every 13 year old you have.”

“And you’re still defending them?”

“Yeah, I’m on Virge’s side in this, Logan. 13-year-olds are just cruel.”

“I’m not defending them, I’m simply saying that there’s no logical reason-”

“There’s no logic in pre-teens-”

“Not even a teen- sy bit-”

“-and that will be my life, mockery and the cold confinement of office routine, no friends or boyfriends and I’ll die alone, without even a cat for company because I have this stupid allergy-”

CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP

They all went quiet, echoing the clap and looking over at Roman, who had appeared a second ago while they were bickering.

“How am I supposed to practice my one-man duets if you are all making a racket?” Thomas squinted at the gaudy necklace he was wearing, a giant ruby pendant resting in the center of his chest. While he watched, it flashed a dim red light. Must have been the light catching the gem.

But everyone else glanced at it as well, including Roman. He looked pleasantly surprised.

“I didn’t know it did that. Neat!”

“What on earth are you wearing?” Logan sighed, glaring at the necklace in suspicion.

"Oh, it’s a best friend necklace! The Dragon Witch gave it to me-”

“The Dragon Witch?” Virgil interrupted, looking at him like he was crazy. Roman glared at him, but it lacked any real heat. He placed a hand on his hip and popped it dramatically.

“Yes, the Dragon Witch. We totally patched things up and are now great friends! Honestly, it was super judgy of me to declare her as evil just because she happens to be a dragon and a witch. She can’t help that! And there are good witches and dragons! Like Sabrina, or the characters from Dragon Tails!” Roman argued, waving his hand around. Patton nodded along, looking proud.

“That is so true! That’s so cool of you, Roman! And may I just say it is be- ruby -ful!” He beamed.

“Ayyyyyyy-” Roman pointed at him, looking delighted. Thomas hid his laugh behind his hand.

“That feels ill-advised,” Logan argued, Virgil gesturing at him in agreement, looking baffled. Personally, Thomas didn’t see the problem with it. But they were once again off track, and Thomas’s problem still hadn’t been solved, so he shrugged and decided that there were no real arguments against Virgil’s idea and that must mean it was fine. He turned and moved to grab his suitcases out of the hall closet.

“Maybe you should evaluate why you hate dragons and/or witches because it’s not her problem that you have a bias.” Roman sassed.

“I have no problem with either of those things, I’m simply saying that prior behavior suggests- Thomas where are you going?” Logan cut off, confused. Thomas blinked and jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

“Gotta pack, so I can become a hermit.”

Logan sighed and adjusted his glasses. “You are not becoming a hermit.”

“I’m not?” “He’s not?”

Logan glared at Virgil and Patton. “No, you aren’t. Thomas, I know you remember our conversation about cognitive distortions so I’m not going to bother rehashing it, and instead let’s get to the root of this problem. Yes, you may have looked silly today, and your friends may or may not have noticed it. Your outfit will certainly be in the video, and others may or may not make fun of it. But we both know that is where it will end, and that it is a minor problem. So why are you making such a big deal about it?”

“Yeah, buddy, it’s not like you to make mountains out of mole-hills.”

It was Thomas’s turn to sigh, body slumping out of its tense position. “You’re right- (“I’m always right.”) - I’m overreacting. I’m just worried about Cartoon Therapy.” He admitted.

“That’s the new script you and Joan are working on, right?” Patton wondered.

“Yes! It’s going to be amazing, you are just going to love the therapist, Pat!” Roman gushed.

“But that’s the thing, what if it isn’t amazing? What if it sucks? I’ve never made such a long scripted episode, what if it gets boring or repetitive? What if people don’t like the new characters? I mean it isn’t like I made you guys up, and I don’t write our scripts from scratch-”

“Take a deep breath, Thomas.” Virgil soothed, looking a little frazzled but much more relaxed compared to earlier. Thomas hadn’t even noticed his anxiety ebb into a dull static. He did as he said, sharing a smile with him at the reference.

“Thanks.” He murmured quietly.

“Give yourself some credit, you’ve created characters people have loved before, in much shorter bits. Take your personification of Sleep, for example. He is well-liked and barely fleshed out. I’m sure characters you can take your time establishing will be just as well received.”

“And if you can’t give yourself credit, give some to Joan. We all know they are a creative genius.” Patton added, speaking softly. “The script will be fine, and the characters will be great. All you can do is give your best try when writing, and watch it come to life.”

“For now, distract yourself and allow yourself to calm down. Put on Parks and Recs! It’ll work out.” Roman suggested. Thomas nodded, feeling much calmer than when he came in. He took another deep breath and grinned at his sides.

“Thanks, guys.”

“It was no problem, I a- shirt you.” Patton shot him finger guns and winked, and then-

Just stood there. Thomas’s brow creased in confusion, watching panic slowly bleed into his expression.

“Pat?”

“I-uh,” The others were looking at him in concern now, “I can’t sink out.”

“What?”

“I can’t sink out.” He stressed, and Logan fidgeted with his glasses.

“How is that possible, Patton-”

“I don’t know!” Patton snapped, looking very upset. “I just know I can’t!”

“I can’t either.” Virgil blurted out, his voice layering.

“This is probably nothing. Lets just all take our own deep breaths, close our eyes and focus on the living room.” Logan said, terse. Thomas watched them all do so, fear rising inside of him at an alarming rate. None of them sunk.

“What’s happening?” He asked. They all looked a little crazed, wide eyes darting around.

“I don’t know, this shouldn’t be possible! What could have-” Logan’s head darted up from where it was buried in his hands. “Your necklace!”

Roman jumped, alarmed at the outburst. A lightbulb went on over Thomas’s head.

“It flashed earlier! When you arrived!”

Roman looked even more alarmed, hands going to the chain and frantically yanking it up over his head, tossing it to the ground. There was a split second of relief on all of their faces before the ruby once again lit up, this time with a blinding red light that filled the entire room, too bright to see through. Thomas could hear the sounds of bodies thumping to the floor and he blinked rapidly, trying to clear the spots from his eyes.

Four men were crumpled on the floor (and stairs), but they weren’t the men who were there just a minute ago. They were all dressed like his sides, but it wasn’t his face looking back at him. He could feel his breath hitching in his chest, his lungs empty and his chest burning. He sunk to the floor and curled up, sticking his head between his legs. He could fuzzily recognize this as a panic attack, though he had never had one this severe, and clumsily went through tactics he remembered reading when researching Anxiety. It took him a while, but eventually, he was back to being aware. The men were still on his ground.

In Patton’s place was a man with curly blond hair and a scattering of freckles across his rounder cheeks. He was a bit softer all around, and round glasses lay on the ground next to him. Roman had been replaced with a tanner version of him, a face that was similar to Thomas’s, but his hair was a dark ginger and thicker, his swoop larger than usual. He seemed broader than usual as well, but he was crumpled oddly and Thomas couldn’t be sure. Instead of Virgil, there was a slight man with wild purple hair, lightly curling around his face. It looked like there was a suggestion of freckles on his pale skin as well, but he was too far away and the maybe-freckles were light if they were there at all. His makeup -or not?- was gone, replaced with very real eye bags that were much less severe but still noticeable. And not-Logan was, well, tall. Not giant, but he appeared taller than before, with black hair neatly styled out of his face, which also looked much like Thomas’s own. Actually, they appeared like they could be siblings, and not-Logan looked the most like who he should be. Does that make sense? Thomas didn’t really care, he was still panicking.

Not-Patton looked the least like Thomas, with not-Virgil hovering somewhere between him and not-Roman. There was a strong suggestion of Virgil’s features but they were more…delicate somehow. Like a distant relative of Talyn’s and a less distant relative of his. Patton didn’t look much like him, while Roman could be a cousin and  Logan could be his brother. Because that’s who they were, he knew it and he had to stop lying about it. Those were his sides, only they weren’t very side-like at all.

A low groan came from Logan, the body shifting on the floor and pushing up into a sitting position. Thomas froze, looking at the strange frame which suddenly felt like it was sitting much too close to Thomas’s own. He scooted back, tense. Logan blinked the spots from his eyes as well, before freezing. He was looking straight at Patton. Thomas was sure he was just as startled as he was, but then Logan relaxed and leaned back against the wall.

“Oh good, we’re back.” He hummed quietly to himself.

“Uh, what the fuck ?” Thomas blurted, feeling somehow more confused and nervous. Logan nearly jumped into the air, head whipping around to face him, dark blue eyes blinking once more at him. His brow drew down in confusion.

“Thomas? But how did you- maybe the light….no, because we never appear like this with you around…” He muttered. They were both interrupted by movement on the staircase, Virgil righting himself on the steps, holding his head. His face was scrunched tight in discomfort, and Logan’s attention snapped to him.

“Are you alright?” Logan asked Virgil, lowly. Virgil nodded, eyes clearing the last of the light and locking with the other sides.

“Fine, Lo. We’re back then?” He noticed the tight line of Logan’s mouth and suddenly Thomas was staring into green.  Virgil’s eyes aren’t brown anymore, either, a grey-green color replacing the familiar warmth. They narrowed.

“That’s not right…”

“What is going on?!” Thomas asked forcefully. He doesn’t get an answer, Patton stirring by the curtains interrupting them. He fumbled for his glasses, clumsily shoving them back on his face and opening his eyes.

“Well, that sure was a pain in the neck , very ruby of that Dragon Witch if you ask me.” Patton joked, though it lacked humor. Just like the other’s his body went slack when he noticed the others, but straightened as he immediately took note of Thomas. He absentmindedly noticed that Patton’s eyes were a sky blue. “Why are you in our living room?”

“I-what-” Thomas spluttered. Patton’s attention shifted just as fast as it came, and he let out a little gasp when he noticed Roman’s unconscious form.

“I don’t think he’ll be waking up for a couple of minutes, at least. It appears we woke up based on how close we were to the initial blast.” Logan offered, his eyes darting back to Virgil every so often, who was also watching Roman with concern.

“What happened?” Patton asked, distressed, and Thomas could have laughed.

“That’s what I’ve been fucking asking!” He burst out, earning a startled expression from Patton.

“Language.”

“That is the least of our problems, Patton! You all knocked out and you aren’t you and you’re still in my living room and no one is telling me what’s going on so take your language and shove it. ” He snapped, and his sides reeled back in shock. He felt a little hysterical, he might laugh anyway. It was either that or scream, because one of them was climbing up his throat.

“We don’t know what is going on, any more than you do,” Logan said.

“But, you- you look!”

“This is how we appear in the Mind Space. When you manifested us for the first time you did so with an image in your mind, so that’s how we appeared.” Virgil explained carefully, looking wary after Thomas’s outburst. “In fact, we look like the short’s characters you imagined us as, so while some features you seemed aware we had, like glasses, the rest of it wasn’t originally us.”

What? “So I decided your faces and clothes and personalities, and forced it on you?”

“Not quite. Admittedly, we dressed very similarly before manifestation, and our personalities have been ours since we started existing. You’ve always been aware of those things, just like you’ve always known our functions and of our existence.” Logan corrected.

Patton piped up, though he wasn’t meeting Thomas’s eyes. “It’s just part of being a manifester, kiddo. Well, we assume so, there isn’t exactly a guidebook on it.”

He suddenly felt bad about his outburst, the metaphorical wind leaving his metaphorical sails. “I’m sorry, Patton, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. At any of you.”

“It’s fine! We’re all freaking out, I can understand your reaction.” He was warmer this time, and Thomas sighed.

Roman let out a dramatic groan and made to sit up against the TV stand, body swaying unsteadily as he adjusted to being conscious. These eyes were familiar and comforting, even squinting suspiciously at him. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”

Patton tapped the ground to get his attention and quietly started filling him in on what little had happened, while Logan started looking around the living room.

“Earlier, you said we were still in your living room,” Virgil commented, watching Logan. He nodded, and Logan mirrored it.

“He’s right, this isn’t our living room. The pictures are wrong, and things are displaced. Like, look, your blankets are not on the couch, and my book and our tea are missing from the table.” He pointed out, and the other three glanced around.

“We didn’t sink out.” Patton devastated.

“And we’re in our real forms, which shouldn’t just happen out of the Mind Space,” Virgil added, grave.

“Something is very wrong.” Roman finished.

“Nothing would be wrong if you hadn’t worn a necklace from the Dragon Witch.” Logan pointed out, edgy. Roman looked a mix between guilty, stricken, and offended, and it twisted his face into something that could have been funny outside of the circumstances. Thomas still wanted to laugh, but that might be the shock setting in. Was this shock? He thought for a second and decided it didn’t really matter. But maybe he should get a blanket?

As the sides began some tense arguing, he spotted his phone lying where he dropped it in his panic attack and realized what would help even more than a blanket. He grabbed it and opened up the call feature. (When was the last time he did that, honestly?)

“It was a gift given of good will, I had to wear it! How could I have known she would do this?”

“Maybe because she was the Dragon Witch ?!”

“Listen, just because she’s the only female in the Mind Space doesn’t mean she has to be the villain!”

“No, she’s the villain because she’s evil! ” Virgil argued.

“He has a point though. Why is the only woman in our realm a villain?” Patton offered, hesitant.

“Roman created her. And he accepted the necklace that got us into this mess!”

“Are you saying this is my fault, Virgil?”

“I’m not not saying that.”

“Virgil!”

“What, Patton? I’m not wrong.”

“But you shouldn’t say it..”

“Patton!”

Thomas hung up and clapped to get their attention. They went quiet once more. “Joan is on their way. Maybe they’ll have some ideas on what’s going on.” And they can tell me I’m not going crazy, he thought, but maybe that was preferable to this situation.

For the first time in his memory, they all lapsed into uncomfortable silence, Virgil tossing his hood over his head and withdrawing into himself while Patton wrung his hands, Roman sulked, and Logan fumed. He had never seen them like this, never known them to be this upset, especially with each other. Things have gotten tense, people have gotten upset or argued, but this disconnect? It was new and somewhat frightening. Minutes passed like snails, slow and dragging, leaving a film behind. Maybe that was the shock.

Finally, a knock on the door drew them out of their heads, and Thomas got up to let them in. They were in their pajamas, and it was only then he thought to check the time. Midnight.

“I’m sorry for dragging you out this late.” He said automatically, but Joan waved him off.

“It’s clearly important, and what are best friends for if not traveling across town at midnight when something important happens?” Joan joked, but Thomas could only give him a weak smile. “You said something happened with the sides?”

He gestured them in, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not good. I was just chatting with them after I got home, everything was normal, and then they couldn’t sink out.”

“They couldn’t leave?”

He shook his head, hovering by the door and speaking quietly. No point in causing the arguing to start back up before it was necessary. “Roman came in wearing this necklace the Dragon Witch gave him-”

“The Dragon Witch?”

“Apparently they made up recently. Today, I think, the others didn’t seem to know about it. Anyway, they figured that was what was preventing them from leaving so Roman took it off. But it let out this bright light, completely blinded us. I heard them all fall and when I could see again they were unconscious and in their real forms.” At their look he tried to explain, feeling jittery and uncomfortable. That was the panic. Shock? “They look different in the Mind Space, they said. They’ve never looked like this outside of it, apparently, they actively control the change. They still can’t sink out, and they keep arguing..”

Joan placed a hand on his arm, seeing him start to panic (had he ever stopped, though?) and Thomas lent into the steadying touch. He smiled at them, thankful. Finally, they moved into the living room, where the sides were waiting. If their new appearances startled them, they didn’t react.

“So you guys are stuck.”

“Understatement of the year,” Virgil grumbled, and Thomas gave him a disapproving look.

“Don’t be mean to Joan. They are just trying to help.”

“Sorry.” He looked guilty, but Joan waved him off.

“Everyone is upset and tense, I understand. But arguing isn’t going to help anything so can we leave that for when this really bad thing isn’t happening?”

They all nodded, and Joan clapped their hands. “Alright. So, once again, you’re stuck. You’ve all attempted to sink out after you woke I’m assuming?”

“Yeah. Before I felt a barrier, almost. I didn’t notice it at first but looking back it was definitely there. But now…now I don’t feel anything at all.” Patton answered, looking down at where his hands were fidgeting in his lap.

“It’s like the Mind Space is just gone.” Virgil agreed. Logan messed with his glasses again, looking agitated.

“But that’s not possible, unless Thomas had something severe happen to his brain or…he wasn’t breathing anymore. Clearly, neither of those things have happened.”

“Yeah I haven’t bonked my head recently, and I’m still kicking. I think?”

“You are,” Joan assured him, seeing the distress in his eyes. “So that means you’ve all lost your connection with the Mind Space, most likely. Can you still conjure things, or access any of your Mind powers?”

They all waved their hands around to no avail, looking crazy. Frustration was clear to read in all of their expressions. Joan grimaced.

“And my shadows are gone,” Virgil said, rubbing his thumb under his eye. “I’ve always had them, I don’t..”

“So, no powers, no shadows, no connection to the Mind.” Joan ticked off. “Forced appearances, as well. Thomas,”

He looked up. “Yeah?”

“You once mentioned you could feel the connections to them, like strings tying you together. Are those still there?”

Oh. He reached deep into his chest, where the strings he had used to call Virgil had always lied. There was just empty. He couldn’t recall ever feeling this empty. The tightness in his throat returned, and his face fell. A sob burst from his lips. “No. No, they aren’t there anymore. I can’t feel them, I can’t feel you guys.” Tears welled up in his eyes but he didn’t care, struck by the realization. “It’s all empty. I thought that was shock, but..”

Joan looked upset, and he distantly felt bad about bringing them into this, but now he was crying and he couldn’t stop. He was reeled into an embrace, and he went willingly.

“It might be shock, from having the connection broken,” Joan admitted, before looking over his head. “Do you guys still feel..”

It was clear from how they trailed off that the answer was no. They couldn’t feel Thomas anymore, and that wrung another shaking sob from him. It took him a few minutes to gather composure, but eventually, he straightened from the awkward hunched position he had had to make, making a small wince at the wet spot on Joan’s chest. A glance at the other sides showed that he wasn’t the only one crying though. He wiped his eyes.

“So, you have no connection to the Mind, or Thomas. But you’re still corporeal, I can see and hear you. Maybe….you’ve become real people. Somehow.”

Oh. He had been so wrapped up in what had happened, he never stopped to think about what it meant. The others looked just as gobsmacked.

“That’s impossible, though,” Logan whispered, but it was obvious to himself.

“Let’s test it. Have any of you moved from your spots?”

“I’m just so used to not being able it didn’t even occur to me,” Virgil admitted, getting to his feet. He swayed a bit, but didn’t fall. The rest rose as well. Patton took an unsteady step forward, likely stiff from hours sitting, and when he didn’t hit a barrier he took another. Virgil climbed down the stairs to meet him in the middle, and Roman stepped forward too. Patton’s eyes brightened slightly, and he reached for Roman.

“I wonder…” He grabbed Roman’s arm and pulled him into a hug. Roman gasped, eyes going wide, and when Patton pulled back he gave Roman a wobbly smile, face brighter.

“You felt it, right?” He asked, before gesturing Virgil to come closer and pulling him into a hug as well. Virgil let out the same surprised gasp and gripped Patton tight.

“Everything feels like it’s dialed up to, like, 15. Lo, come feel this!” He held out a hand to Logan, who placed his own on top and wove their fingers together. His eyes widened. Patton released Virgil and moved hesitantly in front of Joan.

“May I?” They nodded and suddenly Joan had an armful of Patton, who was beaming like it was Christmas.

“I can touch you,” Joan exclaimed, looking shocked. While they had always been able to see the sides, they had never been able to touch them before. Their hand had always gone right through them, like ghosts.

Thomas looked around his living room and felt a stone in his gut. He had four freshly human sides before him. Four human, terrified, grown adult men who had never lived a day in the real world.

“Is this permanent, do you think?” He asked.

“I think, Logan said haltingly, unsure, “ That we have to assume it is. Go into this with a ‘worst-case scenario’ mindset.”

Four men who didn’t legally exist, permanently in reality. They were in his care now, and that dormant panic made itself known once more. He couldn’t take care of them. He didn’t have the space, let alone the funds. And again, they didn’t legally exist. And how was he going to explain this? Only Joan and Talyn knew he was a manifester!

He caught Virgil’s eye and could tell he was thinking the same thing, saw him work himself into a similar panic.

“How can we live? We don’t exist in the eyes of the government, we have no papers! And without papers, we can’t get jobs! Where will we live? What will we do?” Virgil echoed his earlier thoughts, and Patton’s face fell. Roman was still quiet, arms wrapped around himself and staring at the ground. Logan looked deep in thought, lips moving silently. The tension in the room was back, and suddenly Thomas felt exhausted down to his bones. He just wanted to sleep, and let everything disappear. Just for a little while.

Joan seemed to pick up on this, and as frazzled as they now looked, standing in the center of Thomas’s living room in their pajamas at nearly 1 am, they once again smiled. “It’s late. Let’s order a pizza, I’m sure we’re all hungry, and then call it a night. We aren’t going to get anywhere tonight. Figure it out tomorrow.”

They all sagged, and while Joan quietly ordered they all moved to sit. The sides collapsed, leaning against each other, on one part of the coach while Joan and Thomas sat on the smaller side. He absently thought how lucky he was his couch was too big, but mostly he thought about how comfortable it was, and once again how much he wanted to sleep. There was quiet while they waited for food, but it was born out of exhaustion instead of anger.

Once they started to eat, however, some energy managed to fill them again, and quiet chatter started up. Roman mentioned quietly to Patton how cool it was to have a full sense of taste, while Joan struck up a conversation with Virgil and Logan on living in the Mind Space. He listened to them talk about the bookcase filled with books Thomas has read, about their rooms and the emotions connected, but only when Thomas was with them or they were feeling heightened. Roman chimed in with talk about his Realm filled with creativity and stories, while Patton mentioned the dog they had conjured and kept for a couple of weeks.

By the time the food was gone Thomas was nodding off, but he managed to get up and gather four sets of pajamas, mismatched and some grabbed simply because he didn’t know what would fit them. Like Virgil, who seemed too small for his pants and instead got a pair of boxers he bought a size too small, and Patton who he had to dig out one of his slightly larger shirts for. He wandered back to the living room on autopilot and took them all up to the spare bedroom.

They took the clothes from him and Patton grabbed a bunch of spare blankets, setting up two beds on the floor. They looked as out of it as him, and the chorus of “Goodnight, Thomas”’s were more mumbles than speech. He closed the door behind him and went back down to Joan, who was dozing on the couch.

“Thank you for coming over.” He said softly, “And thank you even more for being so helpful. I couldn’t have made it through tonight without you, and I’ll never be able to express how much it meant to me.”

“Everything is going to be alright, Thomas.” Joan insisted, and he smiled.

“Yeah, it probably will. But would you do me a favor and spend the night, so I know it’s not all some crazy dream tomorrow when I wake up?”

They took the hand he offered and pulled themselves up, giving him a teasing grin.

“What, you thought I was going to leave? It’s nearly 2 am, you owe me a place to sleep, dude.”

They headed sluggishly to bed, and everything else was tomorrow’s Thomas’s problem.

(tagging @strickenwithclairvoyance because they told me to, and they inspired me. Hope you like it! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters! (Also bold of you to assume there won’t be Deceit because he wasn’t ejected.))

[gumnut-logic]

The Hero (Part One)

Okay, you’ve read the first tiny bit of this, but I’ve gutted the rest and am rewriting it with much more focus. Sorry about the tiny bit of duplication, I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Today I am at work with my Saturday six hour on my feets desk shift, so any entertainment in the form of fic prompts, ideas, screenshots, simple hellos is welcome. My response will be muted, but, trust me, I’ll love every second of it ::hugs you all::

Warnings: Violence...I’ve upped the magnifying factor of my writing focus, so much more detail to behold. Planned to be entirely Gordon POV, something I don’t think I’ve done in the past, so yay for new stuff living inside the Fish’s brain :D Looking at during the incident, but leading into the aftermath...all the off screen stuff from The Joker.

-o-o-o-

A glass of ice and amber liquid landed in front of him with a solid thunk on the woodwork. His eldest brother followed it, his tall figure sliding around the table and taking a seat beside him.

Another glass of alcohol sat in his hand.

Scott didn’t say anything at first, apparently quite happy to nurse the drink against his chest.

Breath whistled through his teeth. “So, what happened?”

Gordon arched an eyebrow before picking up his glass and sipping the whisky. Oooh, Scott’s expensive bottle. Nice.

He took a moment to revel in its warmth before venturing into the bitterness of his report.

“He did well, you know. Put up one hell of a fight. A couple of those guys won’t be getting up any time soon.”

Blue eyes peered at him over the rim of his glass. “Virgil?”

“Kayo taught him well.” A swallow of scorching liquid, smooth as the glass holding it. “There were just too many of them.”

-o-o-o-

A ramshackle pile of a building on an abandoned farm with interference peppering the sensors. It was ironic that Virgil had accompanied him for security. AKA big brother hadn’t wanted him to go into an unknown situation without backup.

Whether the outcome would have changed in accordance with that decision, they would never know, but it led to Gordon taking lead and Virgil following. Consequently, it was Gordon who was nabbed first entering the second dusty room of the building and Virgil who had to exercise his self defence skills.

The hands that grabbed the aquanaut were rough and for a moment the whole room went sideways. He struck out automatically, but was anticipated, his arm wrenched around his back, his knees kicked out under him, and a cold barrel shoved into the base of his skull put a very abrupt end to his defences.

“V-!”

The kick to his ribs silenced him, but his aim had been achieved.

The brother entering the room, froze for just a split second as he processed the situation. Shadows leapt from the darkness, intending on taking him down, but that second, and reflexes drilled into Virgil by his sister, gave him the power to respond.

Virgil’s massive arm swiped away the hands grabbing at him as he spun out of reach. Another shadow leapt out only to encounter an equally massive fist to its face. Virgil’s uniform did its job and protected him from impact, a hard traction boot landing solidly in one man’s guts. A padded elbow hit teeth and those huge gloved hands, usually so gentle, made knuckles as solid as steel - Gordon knew that, one slip on his part in one too many spar sessions had ended in bruises Virgil had apologised for weeks afterwards.

But there were too many, up to half a dozen assailants emerging from the shadows not including those holding Gordon.

The cold ring of metal at the base of his skull dug in deeper as he struggled to free himself and stop the inevitable.

No amount of padding could deflect the flicker of steel in the dark that impacted on his brother’s ribs.

Gordon heard the snap.

Oh god.

Virgil gasped and staggered.

His assailants moved in.

But no, the stubborn bastard didn’t give up. His fist impacted the side of a head and a man ended up in the dust at Virgil’s feet.

But there were too many.

Too many.

“Virgil, no!” They must be getting some pleasure out of this, because there were guns a plenty, but only one deployed. Gordon didn’t know if his brother had even seen them. “Virgil!”

That steel bar flickered in the poor light again and the second time it impacted on his brother, the dull thud was skull bone.

His big brother dropped without a sound.

Dust hung in the air.

“Well, so much for that.” The hot breath on the back of his neck almost overrode the chill of seeing a gun trained on Virgil’s bleeding skull. “Now, time is of the essence. I need access to your ship now, or we will finish him permanently.”

-o-o-o-

“They got me first. Virg was behind me and had that extra second to react. It was unexpected.” It had been well planned. “They...neutralised him.”

He took a swig of his drink and it caught part way down, burning a hole in his throat. “You would have been so proud of him.” It was whispered.

“I am. Of both of you.” A simple statement that said so much.

Gordon rolled his shoulders in an attempt to shake off the echoes of the incident so he could report clearly.

He was only moderately successful.

“They used Virg to get me to do what they wanted.” The words stuck in his throat and he forced steel into his spine, straightening in the chair. The image of his brother discarded and bleeding on Two’s checker-plate decking, a gun pointed at his head.

The soft crack as a boot impacted on his already damaged ribcage.

Gordon didn’t flinch. He was too experienced for that. But it didn’t hurt any less.

Another throat full of burning alcohol attempted to wash the chill away. Maybe he was just out of practise.

“We need to find a way to stop that from happening again.” His voice was parched and he found himself staring off into the distance.

“Kayo’s on it.” The tumbler was lifted from his hand. The clink of glass, the glug of pouring liquid and it reappeared full again.

Gordon took it, an eye flick, his only thank you.

“I flew her to the warehouse they directed me to. Virgil remained unconscious for the entire flight.” Gordon was almost thankful. “I had hoped you would be able to track us.”

It was Scott’s turn to sigh. “John was...upset.”

That snapped him out of his daze. “What?” His eyes narrowed. “What did Johnny do?”

Scott shifted where he sat. “When he lost Thunderbird Two and both your signals, he and Eos went to some lengths to find you.”

Gordon sat up straighter, eyes boring into his brother. “What did he do?”

TBC

[doeeyeddarlingxo]

Myriad Misadventures - Chapter 56

The Myriad Misadventures of a Midgardian Queen-In-Training - Chapter 56

AO3 | Previous | Next

Word Count: 1661

Pairing: Loki/Reader

Rating: T

A/N: i'm posting this from the train back to school (sad reaccs only), so i'm going to keep this brief so that i can post before my connection cuts out. but i love you all! it is snowing outside, but the reactions to this story have kept my heart so warm! keep the predictions coming, and expect the daily chapter update to continue from now until (eep!) the END of the story! ahhhhh

Taglist (brand new, so lmk if you want to be added!): @lokis-girl-in-mischief

Myriad Misadventures - Chapter 56

You hadn’t realized they’d filmed the kiss.

Wedged in between Irina and Rhea on the couch, with Rosa just a pillow’s breadth away from you, you realized that none of the others have ever been portrayed as having any kind of physical relationship with Loki. Irina and Rhea tastefully avoided such questions, while Rosa...she said things, but in a joking manner. Not to be taken seriously. You, they’d left alone - it seemed like you weren’t the only one who’d thought you’d had no shot. But the day after the segment airs, you’re still wondering:

Were you the first one he kissed at all? Or just the first he kissed on camera?

********************************************

You get almost a full day’s peace and quiet before the storm begins.

"You just can't get enough, can you?"

You recognize the voice, but don't bother looking up. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, Rosa."

A soft green gel-tipped nail appears in your peripheral vision, clutching a sheaf of shiny, colorful papers. "Right. So you totally haven’t seen these.”

 “What?” You grab the magazines from her. “Where did you get these?”

She snorts, flopping onto the chair across from you. “We all have our little secrets, I guess.”

You flip through the top one eagerly. There they are - the results of the most recent poll. 

WHO DO YOU THINK WILL WIN THE CROWN?

Lady Rhea - 39%

You laugh. Is this really what Rosa’s so upset about? “Are you surprised? You know they love her.” She rolls her eyes in response, and you keep reading.

Lady (Y/N) - 38%

“What?” A few pages later - your page - there are more comments, scattered around a screenshot of Loki cradling your face in his hand. You read:

~ Lady (Y/N) is on FIRE!

~ I squealed out loud watching that kiss - soooo romantic! I honestly wasn't expecting him to kiss (Y/N) first, but now I hope he doesn't kiss anyone else! I can't imagine any of the other girls connecting with him like that.

Of course, not everyone’s opinions of you are quite so positive.

~ Everyone's talking about Lady (Y/N)'s "chemistry" with King Loki. One has to wonder though, is she even old enough to have even completed a college chemistry course? Her level of maturity would suggest not. She's nineteen, people! 

But your supporters always come through, defending you with a vengeance.

~ I see people mentioning age. Clearly, she’s more than mature enough to be able to speak up for herself. 

~ I love how Lady (Y/N) can call him on his BS and he’ll take it because he knows she’s right. Come on, I can’t be the only one who thinks she’d be a great queen! 

~ Lady (Y/N), though she does have her moments, is wise beyond her years. Wishing her the best in and out of the palace.

“You could have at least told us before we saw it on TV.” 

You wrinkle your brow. “Since when have you given me any reasons to trust you?”

“I’m kind of with Rosa on this one.” It’s Irina, closing the door quietly behind her. “This feels...wrong. We shouldn’t be keeping secrets from each other. It’s like sabotage.”

“Thank you!”

“It’s her business, though.” You look up with a start—you’d almost forgotten Rhea was in the room. She walks over, settling on the couch besides Irina.

“Thanks.” You start fidgeting with your hands. “I didn’t realize they’d gotten it on camera, anyway.” Rhea raises an eyebrow. “What?” Suddenly, you feel under as though you’re under siege. “I swear to God, I didn’t!”

“Right.” Rosa sounds thoroughly unconvinced. “Well, don’t go thinking you’re so special or anything.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean that you aren’t the only one in it to win it.” She turns away with a “hmph” and a flip of her hair.

“Win what? Him? Or the crown?”

She glares at you. “Alright, Little Miss Holier-Than-Thou. What about you? Do you really think you’re the only girl he talks to? The only one he sees? Kisses? You’re a game to him. A stupid little girl that he can manipulate and play around with while he figures out who he’s really going to keep around.”

You shrug. “Say what you like, Rosa. All I know is that I didn’t see you up on that screen last night.”

She gapes at that, mouth hanging open like a codfish. “You - you know, I am so sick of your act.”

“My act?”

“Yes, your act! You pretend to be so innocent, sweet little (Y/N), ‘tee hee, look at me, I’m dumb enough to flip out on the king and lucky enough to get away with it!’ I’m telling you, he doesn’t care about you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“You haven’t seen - ”

“Girls,” Rhea interrupts, calm and regal as always. You and Rosa both shut up immediately. “Half of the girls we started out with aren’t here. The fact that we are makes the four of us special to begin with.” She keeps her voice low, though it carries in the quiet of the room. “Maybe we should stop fighting each other.”

Irina snorts. “Right, like that’s happening.”

“No, I’m serious. And here’s how we’ll start: we’ll go around and talk about our encounters with His Majesty.”

You and Rosa shoot each other one more glare before nodding. You feel the sting of tears as you sit back down (you hadn’t even noticed you’d stood up to begin with) - you hate being reprimanded. And some of what Rosa said hit home - what if he really doesn’t care? What if - you try to block out the image of him and Rosa, his fingers tangled in her hair, her legs around his waist as he kisses her against a wall. His lips on Irina’s, his hands circling her waist as he helps her dismount from one of her precious horses. Rhea doesn’t worry you, only because she seems far too conservative to allow such a thing to occur.

“What we speak of doesn’t have to be romantic or sexual in nature,” Rhea adds. “Anything. If you went on a date that wasn’t public knowledge. If you passed and spoke to him on the way to the stables. Things like that.”

“Oh. How far back is this going? I barely remember what I wore yesterday, forget what I said three years ago.”

Rosa rolls her eyes. “God, do you have to overthink everything?” 

Irina stares daggers at her. “Okay, then. Show us how it’s done. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of stories to tell.”

“Fine.” She takes a deep breath, and your heart sinks...until she releases it in a sigh. “I can’t even think of a good lie. Nothing, okay? Absolutely nothing happened.” 

You’re surprised to hear tears in her voice. 

After an uncomfortable moment, she speaks again. “All right, I’ve humiliated myself enough. You go, Irina.” 

Irina shrugs, shaking her head. Then she hesitates, opening her mouth as though to confess something. “Actually, I’m going home today.”

“What?”

She nods. “I wanted to tell you all. In person.” Another shrug. “But nothing happened before then, anyway.

None of you know what to say.

Until, like ripping a Band-Aid off a wound, Rosa switches her attention back to you. “How the hell did you manage it, then?”

“Me?”

She rolls her eyes again. “Well, apparently you’re the only one who’s kissed him.”

“I don’t know. What, do you want a rundown on everything he’s said to me since...I don’t know, however long?” All three of them nod. “Okay. We danced at the first ball we ever went to, the masquerade. Remember?” They nod. “We always ran into each other in the hallway after that. I don’t know. Oh, and then...well, there was the attack on the castle.” The quiet turns somber as you remember that day. The panic. Lexi. “Anyway. We ended up hiding out together. We’ve been...friends, I guess, ever since.”

“Friends?” Irina repeats incredulously. 

“And, to make a long story short, he kissed me after dinner last Saturday. And I might have yelled at him?”

“You yelled at him for kissing you?”

“...I mean, it was a little more complicated than that. Anyway, the next day he, um, invited me to dinner, and we argued again about that. During dinner he made a comment that struck a nerve. Like, on purpose, though. So I kind of went off on him for that.” You shrug. “But, um, you guys already know that part.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Rosa holds up a hand to stop you. “So he kissed you twice? I can’t...You didn’t even want to be here!”

“I don’t exactly get to leave whenever I want!”

“Aw, (Y/N) doesn’t get her way for once. Boo freaking hoo.”

“I had a life before this!” Tears are pooling in the corners of your eyes, but the anger you feel is eating you up from the inside out and you can’t hold it in anymore. “My friends are out there worrying about final exams and spring fling plans, and I’m here. I guess I shouldn’t be complaining, though - I get to deal with court etiquette and alien attacks and everything else that’s been thrown at us. So yes, Rosa, I miss my life, and if I could have left three years ago, I would have.” You need to pause for a few moments just to compose yourself. “But that’s changed. I’m not leaving. You’re not going to just get rid of me.”

“Why?” She sticks out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout. “Because you love him?”

“Yes.” You look her dead in the eyes. “Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

For once, she doesn’t respond.

You pick up your book. “I’ll see you ladies tonight at dinner.” As you begin walking out, you hear her call out after you, but you ignore it, the blood still rushing in your ears.

[sugar-petals]

the scaffolding (m)

⌞ Jungkook paints your house. He blocks the panoramic view. You take no issue with that.

⌞ pairing | jjk x graphic designer!reader  ⌞ word count | 4.5k  ⌞ warnings | mild injury, swearing  ⌞ genre | slice of life, fluff  ⌞ content | sexual tension, muscle kink, massaging ♡

September. The first week. The weather is stable since Thursday, a lot of tourists are in town. Your phone won’t stay silent either. Clients, clients, clients. There’s not a single unhurried day in your house. You tell yourself to stay focused. 

Because nature still inspires best, the windows to the first floor home office enable you to glance across an ample panorama. A lake, mountains in the distance, meadows, some occasional mist in the mornings although the sun does come out later quite a lot. 

A very rural outlook, mature. And yet, it’s been boring you as of lately. You need some aesthetic change in your life. But since you can’t roll your desk to the other side of the house — where the windows aren’t as large anyways — and can’t really move the mountains aside either, you dare an experiment. A designer thinks in counterintuitive terms. What if you change something about what you project outward to the landscape instead of altering the landscape itself? The idea is to hire someone who will paint your house in an interesting color. 

The legal framework is loose enough for you to go with a very deep cobalt blue type of shade. Friendly and upbeat Kim Seokjin from the local painter’s bureau, Kim Constructions, invites you for discussing the details and going through color books. The resulting sum is quite hefty since your house is moderately large with rather complicated architecture to climb around, but everyone at the bureau is very helpful. September is the perfect time of the year. Seokjin arrives two days later to inspect the building from the outside, taking notes, then asks a few questions about the history of the house, looks around again, and vanishes as silently as he arrived. When you glance out of the window seven days after, there’s already a scaffolding in place. Deckings, ties, braces, and transoms everywhere. While you’re busy editing flyers for the upcoming winter festival, there’s plenty of hammering, van maneuvering, and more loud motion outside. 

While you did want something new to quench the boredom, now you believe it backfired in the worst of ways since painting sure will take a while. Instead of feeling inspired, all you are is distracted. You do ponder moving your tablets, the laptops, the screen, and the other paraphernalia for the time being. But yet, another client rings through and asks whether you can meet the deadline for the wedding cards. You say yes, they’re almost done, you print them in two days, goodbye, you’ve asked for the fifth time. Moving the office won’t get rid of the nervous wreck type of callers either, no amount of reassurance ever helps. it’s starting to rub off on you, in fact. So you plug your headphones in and distract yourself from the distraction outside, and have a reason to ignore the phone blowing up every twenty minutes. Anything of importance would come via email anyways. 

You drag fonts around the screen and adjust colors when a shadow steps in between you and the 11 AM sun outside. It startles you to the point of almost falling off your chair. It’s a brunette guy in a red tank top, bib, moderately tall, carrying a full bucket of paint toward the right side of the scaffolding. Judging by how he balances along the scene and then disappears, the guy didn’t notice you. The flyers aren’t so important anymore. You put down your headphones and try to glance across the room, toward the corner of the window where he went out of sight but not out of mind. And he does come back a minute later, without the bucket. This time, the guy gazes into your direction. He looks surprised. A feeble greeting hand, a bow, you bow back, then nod. Expressionless staring. He gestures around with a paint roller in his left hand. Then he moves on. You’re quite puzzled. He seems to be the worker, and you know that there are about three of them, that’s responsible for your side of the house where the office is. 

It’s hard dragging fonts again, and the music stays off. Another anxious client’s call is quite convenient to make it look like you’re all professional and busy when the guy returns peeking across the scaffold on a ladder with a mixing laddle, and fumbling around with a trim guide. You don’t want to disturb the workers. At the same time, you want to look at him. The client, Mister Park, keeps on babbling about how he needs his fancy bright website banners by the end of the month, that his revenue depends on it, and only calms down once you send him a screenshot about how much you’re already advanced. 

In the meantime, the brunette guy is gone again. Seokjin is on the scaffold now, but you can only see his arms stirring paint. The flyers are half done by the end of the hour, your tea cup is empty, and you figure it’s time to go to the kitchen to get yourself another drink. Hungry you are not yet, but already play with the thought of throwing some noodles in the Wok later for lunch at 1 PM, with some leftovers and a spicy sauce. Once the tea bag blurs out the hot water in your mug into a deep fruity strawberry red, you pace around the house, smartphone switched on, going through your social media. Nothing of real importance. A few likes on there, a comment here. More emails waiting. You end up strolling to the balcony —

And walk in on the guy, back turned to you. Pulling off his tank top standing on the first floor scaffold, and tossing it down to land on the hood of the Kim Constructions van. Your sharp exhale makes him flinch and turn around within the blink of an eye. His voice, high-pitched, cracks in a matter of seconds.

“I’m, I’m sorry! Thought you were workin’ on the other side!”

He covers his chest with both arms crossed before it.

Don’t look at his body. Don’t look at his body. He’s not comfortable with it.

You’re startled for a solid moment, too. Frozen.

“I, uh, made some tea,” you shove the mug toward his direction, eye to eye, desperate not to trail off below. “It’s very cold in September. I mean, out here.”

“Yes, it’s cold,” the guy says, pretty much sweating, but he takes the cup anyways, further disclosing his torso. You keep your head up stiff.

Don’t look at his body. Just a painter doing his job. Relax. You gave him a drink, that’s all. 

“Really sorry, I hope the tea is okay.”

“Thank you, Miss Y/L/N, you didn’t have to do that. And I’m just a klutz, just walkin’ around like this. I hope I don’t cause an inconvenience. That’s too kind, you really didn’t have to prepare tea.”

You shake your head with too much vehemence for it to be normal. The guy starts sipping from the cup and almost burns his lips, but tries to play it off immediately by nodding at you more then necessary.

“I just saw you’re working hard, and Seokjin, I think, he can have a cup, too? There’s someone else, too, your co-workers—”

“Namjoon. But I think he’s allergic. Yeah. All sorts of allergies.”

“Oh, allergic. Sorry for that. And you are?”

“JK. Jungkook, um. Seokjin is always callin’ me JK. And Kookie, he thinks I look like one.”

“Yeah, I guess. I’m not allergic to cookies.”

“Me neither!”

Someone shouts from the other side of the house. Jungkook looks around.

“Uh, I gotta go. See you, Miss! I mean, if you want! I let that cup cool here, I pick it up in a minute.”

And he sprints around the corner. The scaffolding still vibrates after he’s gone and you hear a discussion from the East side of the house. You click the balcony door shut and sink down in the living room on the carpet. What on earth does he make you say. What on earth did he say. This JK guy. Allergic to kookies. Allergic to tea. What on earth. At least you managed to get a conversation together instead of awkward silence. So, Jungkook is his name. Seokjin thinks he looks like a cookie. But Jungkook is not allergic to that. And it’s icy cold in September, of course, especially when he walks around without his tank top. All that staring at screens has been making you dizzy. 

You drink a glass of juice in the kitchen, grab your light-weight beige jacket, phone, tablet, and exit the house for a walk. Gladly, Kim Construction’s van parked at the other end of the house where Jungkook likely still climbs around. You can go to the lake and get moving, all day in a seat won’t do your body any good. Any important task you can do on your tablet anyways. And pass the time. You think about how bizarre it must have been for Jungkook to first get caught in the middle of stripping, being offered a teacup as a lousy excuse, almost burning his tongue, and having to hear about cold weather with the sun out.

Mister Park calls when you observe toddlers collecting stones at the beach, and the animals that make them wonder. He wants a certain color adjustment, the theme has changed, the mood has to be different. Even brighter, everything. The changes you can employ through your tablet, but not actually alter your very own mood until you get the idea to visit an ice cream parlor about two hours later. It’s their last day, they’re closing down until the end of May next year. For a reason easily explicable to you after thinking twice, you order a strawberry ice cream sundae. A big portion, with fruit, because the Wok— you postponed. 

All because you thought your panorama was boring and wanted a blue house. Sitting at the dock seems to bring up more worries than that, just being completely thrown off balance, not having your shit together. Eating strawberries at least makes you a little more tolerable to yourself at least. You wish you could mute your phone to avoid further pestering by client XYZ asking for a new layout until Friday. But who could blame them. Their expectations were high, too. All you can do it type around on your tablet to get the wedding cards finalized with the right type of swirl in the golden frames. The children play and fool around against the raging will of their respective parents, but they don’t care. They keep on throwing stones into the water until they’re satisfied. The sundae is gone all too soon and you’re still hungry. 

You take a picture of the orange, crimson sun lowering itself onto the horizon, the lighthouse from the harbor at the outer end, with sailing boats, and of course, the mountains. Maybe it’s a picture Jimin’s banners could look good with, you realize, and zoom in. You almost overlook it, but at a second glance, you see a familiar red shade on the harbor wall. HEX #ED2939, imperial red. You know that one from somewhere. Putting the tablet down, you gaze where you believe the color is supposed to be down the docks. Quite far away, near the lighthouse in fact, but you do see a silhouette. Now you decide to walk closer. That red is really striking, resembling the dusky sky. Coming closer, the silhouette turns and waves at you . 

“Good to see you! Y/N! How’s it goin’?”

It’s Jungkook, looking a bit silly with paint on his cheeks, and a flat white box in his hands. It really is gigantic. He sits at the dock in black sweatpants, seemingly watching birds by himself.

“After-work hours?”

At first, you hesitate, but then crouch down on the harbor wall next to him, legs crossed. He wipes his chin with the back of his hand. You can smell that he reapplied whatever spray deodorant was likely available in the van.

“We finished the Northern side an hour ago or so. But, uh, you look more exhausted than any of us!”

“I don’t know. And good job, Seokjin didn’t lie about being fast.”

“Have a slice,” Jungkook opens the white box for you to peer into. Now you realize what it’s for. Pizza Funghi. “We ordered way too much. And Namjoon was havin’ an allergic reaction.”

Jungkook’s mindless nodding returns when you make a ‘really, can I?’ glance at the pizza.

“What reaction? He’s allergic to pizza?”

“Oh, I think I have to explain that,” Jungkook tugs at the hems of his tank top. “It’s some sort of insider joke. Namjoon’s on a diet since he ate and drank too much at the summer festival. Or fasting, we don’t get it. Whenever he sees foods and drinks he freaks out. Jin came up with that joke, don’t ask me why.”

In passing, he hands you a napkin for your lap.

“Wasn’t the summer festival exactly about food and drink? The slogan was culinary joys or something.”

The pizza is pretty crispy when you bite into it. Jungkook looks at you munch with big eyes.

“You got some memory right there. I don’t even remember whether I went there or not!”

“I designed the posters,” you mumble, “that’s what I’m busy with in the office.”

“Hey, that’s a cool job. Wish I did that. Been dreamin’ of some more artistic work.”

“Sure, we can swap. I climb on the ladders with a hammer, you take phone calls.”

“Not good at that. I’d just collapse. You likin’ the pizza? Take the rest if you want.”

Jungkook parts his bangs with a hand, getting the strands out of his eyes. His eyebrows are quite strong, unlike his soft eyes looking at you from their corners because Jungkook faces the lighthouse, letting his legs dangle off the dock’s edge.

“Topping’s nice and chewy,” you rub the corners of your mouth with the napkin and get another slice. “You enjoyed your tea?”

“Definitely warm now. Jin was lookin’ at me weird and asked where it’s from.”

“I’ll get you two some more tomorrow. Is peppermint okay? Running out of strawberry tea.”

“As long as we leave Namjoon alone with his water bottles and apples, you can do just about anythin’.”

The children’s laughter disappears. You finish the third slice when the sun is close to setting. Even the bustling people from the ice cream parlor disperse, and the staff cover the windows with curtains from the inside. Jungkook makes you laugh when, accompanied by funny faces, he reduces the giant pizza cardboard box to nothing but a ball of paper with bare hands, and tosses it right into a bin — ironically, the wrong one for plastic. After tucking it into the adjacent paper can, alongside the napkin, Jungkook balances on the dock and talks about Namjoon’s whimsical adventures on the festival where his shades flew off on a carousel until you suggest to go to the lighthouse. 

“Want a good picture I can use for an edit. Maybe from the top. The lantern room has a railing all around. Probably a good view.”

Jungkook agrees quite heartily, but once you do reach the white tower, perhaps 45 feet high, any rattling at the door latch is futile.

“Closed,” Jungkook sighs. “For ages, I guess. It doesn’t look functional. I’ve never seen a keeper around here anyways.” 

But you already point to the left-hand side of the lighthouse that faces the sea.

“Talk about ladders. Look at that.”

“Huh?”

“There’s nobody around.” You tuck your tablet into the inside chest pocket of your jacket.

Jungkook gazes around. 

“Oh... I get what you mean. Anythin’ for a good shot,” he advances, testing out the metal steps planted to the outside of the lighthouse in regular gaps. “It’s not much different from a scaffoldin’, I think.”

“My very thoughts. Are the steps not rusty or slippery?”

“Not really, just a bit narrow, kinda antique. But it’ll do. For me it’s easy at least. But are graphic designers always that reckless?”

“My clients depend on it. We gotta be quick before it sets, I need the colors to be bright.”

Jungkook already climbs a few test steps up and down. It looks more than agile.

“Wait, I figure this out,” he fumbles around, relocates his balance back and forth. “Can you do this?”

“No, I ain’t stupid. If you can carry me, we’re faster, too.”

Jungkook takes the final step with a cough. You unwind your iron clasp around his hip and neck. He still smells like that deodorant. Even up here, where the wind carries all scent away fast. You both climb over the railing, the lantern room right before you. 

“Hey, we’re not dead! That was awesome. Athletics 101!”

“Doin’ this every day,” Jungkook fastens his tank top, bashful now. “Gotta be good at least somethin’.” 

You holding onto him caused the top to slip sidewards. It almost makes you forget to take the picture until he points at your jacket where the tablet is stored.

“Your turn, Miss.”

“Clouds look just right,” you nod, “was a good idea.”

Click. A quick shot for a start. Click. One with longer exposure time. Click. You turn the tablet by 90°. Click. Now diagonal. You crop the second last picture, then change a filter, add text, ponder for half a minute, then create a panoramic view. Jungkook watches with intent, picking at the paint on his cheeks without even noticing. You change positions three times to look for a better angle, without the railing in the way. Concentration. You hold the tablet still.

“Never knew how this works,” he ruffles his hair around a few feet to the right. “Looks like one hell of a job.”

You tuck away your tablet again, realizing that the brightness of the horizon already fades. The five pictures have to suffice.

“Hopefully. Only worried about getting down again.”

“I’ll figure this out.”

Jungkook, instead of going to the railing the way you expected it, walks to the lantern house. Indeed, hidden by white paint, there’s a door. He twists the knob at the very side twice, then frowns a little, changes directions, walks to the harbor side of the platform. You can hear a knocking, clattering, then a screeching noise. 

“Come around if you’re finished! Found somethin’. Way down.”

His voice is a little silent given that the breeze is strong. But you do walk half the circular to reach him. He squats down at an open hatch in the floor. 

“No ladder. But I think the room down there isn’t too steep.”

“Hey, you genius! What’s that?”

“The livin’ quarters. Sure we find a key there to exit the lighthouse from the inside. Don’t know how else.”

“But you really wanna get in there, like, fall? It does look steep! And how can I—”

Jungkook already rubs his palms against each other, bends his knees three times, then sits legs downward at the edge of the square opening. 

“I think pizza makes people do reckless things in general,” he hums to himself, then glides off the hatch into the room. The rebound isn’t as loud as you thought. You gaze down the hatch to see Jungkook, already upright, pop and gyrate his knees, then stretch his arms toward you. 

“O.K.,” he nods his head, bangs swiped to either side of his face.

“Just the same as you did?”

“Part your legs a bit. Don’t wanna get knocked out. Catch you halfway, arms forward. And don’t bite your tongue or somethin’. Other than that, hm. Guess that’s it.”

“Take this first,” you unzip your jacket, cast it off backwards, then let it hang down as far as the length of your right arm permits. The tablet weighs it down quite a lot. Jungkook plucks it out of the air like it’s nothing, rests it to his side, yet out of reach. He rubs his palms against each other again.

“Don’t think too much, Miss Y/N.”

“Oh man, poor pizza in my stomach,” you sit down at the edge now, leg to either side parted wide, arms forward. Jungkook stretches his hands further up toward the hatch opening.

“Think you’re good to go.” 

“Get ready.”

And you slip down. 

Jungkook’s exhale doesn’t reach the outside world. Instead, you’re the one to breathe out groaning. Holding on tight. With his torso between your legs, rock-hard.

“Oh gosh, hurts! Oh, fuck!”

A quick sting of pain. When you feel your hands at the back of his neck, finally, you gather your senses. Look down. He did catch you. He did. Jungkook keeps on muffling. 

“You okay?”

You lean back to un-burry his face from your breasts.

“Boobs are a curse! Ouch, ugh.”

Jungkook lets you down, slowly. The inside of your thighs glide off his waist.

“Rest for a moment, Y/N. That takes a minute.”

“I quit my dream of climbing around.”

“You’re no athlete. I practice this all the time, too. There’s a bed over there.” 

The pain still remains. Your eyes dart around the living quarters. The room is surprisingly spacious, perhaps because it’s rounded. The keeper left everything in perfect order. Equally, the bed looks like a promising comfort. 

“Don’t beat yourself up, my face was just in the way,” Jungkook removes the bed’s duvet with its layer of dust on it, then sits at the edge, eagle eyes on how you lower yourself, then lay down on the mattress. 

“Give me a second,” you groan into your sleeve. “Feel like passing out. Shit is like a groin kick.”

“If you distract yourself, it’s easier. Takes your mind off. Just tell me.”

Hesitation. But your mind shortcuts right away.

“Just— Come over. I need your hands.”

Jungkook swiftly gets his Timbs off. They tumble next to your jacket on the ground.

“What should I do,” he moves closer, kneeling next to your torso. You can feel his warmth.

“Here,” you point at your sternum. Jungkook takes his right to hover above the spot, palm facing downwards. His left hand is propped up beside your shoulder, creating a dent you sink down with.

“Put it— Like this?”

“Back and forth. Like, massaging or something.”

“Got it.”

He is very warm. And it helps. The sting, with every rub, eases. His palm is very broad, but light on your body. You can smell his deodorant again, but with a bit of sweat mixing in. Tinged bitter, but still sweet. You like it. Perhaps he wasn’t so wrong about distraction. Perhaps you were not so wrong about boredom. His touch takes away from the tightness in your chest the longer he circles his fingers into the spot between your breasts that gently part for his motions.

“Feels better, Kookie. Keep on.”

“Okay.”

Jungkook continues rubbing until the pain is wearing off, numbing, at least. The way he retreats his hand makes the bed shake a little because he shifts his weight, and the dent is gone. You’re looking at him now—

Something clinks on the floor. Strangely metallic. A noise more silent than you actually thought it was. You’re both startled. Looking around. Everything is blank.

“What was that? Is someone coming? Shit, shit!”

“Miss, wait a second.”

He peeks over the edge of the bed where the noise came from. You sit up. He’s chuckling. Then, he picks up a little silver item.

“Look at that.”

“Oh?”

He’s laughing. 

“I think that’s the key. Keeper stored it under the mattress.”

“That was the shock of my life!”

“Your chest’s better, then,” Jungkook picks up the key and drops it on the dusty nightstand. “Gotta say, that was, uh, I was bein’ stupid. Namjoon knows how to catch paint buckets like that, he’s probably the only one lookin’ graceful.”

“To each their own talent. To each their own mishap. His shades flew off.”

You kick off your own trainers, adjust on the bed after removing the dust-covered pillow gently not to cause a stir in the air. 

“We were searching for an hour or so,” Jungkook scratches his head. “It flew far, you know.”

“He seriously needs to read the safety instructions next time.”

“We climbed on a lighthouse, can’t preach to him ‘bout that I think. Pics will be pretty cool though.”

“I’ve had my climbing, you had some art stuff today.”

“Always learnin’ somethin’.”

The duvet is back in place, as is the pillow, the hatch closed with the makeshift help of a broomstick. You tap down the stairwell that smells a lot like sea, jacket back on, with the light from your tablet illuminating the way down. Jungkook, in his Timbs, is ready to dodge bats or spiders, but the staircase isn’t too webby and dusty. Only the stairs are a bit grimy. 

“Need the biggest shower of my life,” he grits, balancing downwards. 

“I can drive you home if you want. How did you get to my house earlier?”

“By bike, it’s parked at the harbor. My house isn’t too far away. Gettin’ there in ten minutes.”

“Ah, okay.”

After you get to the bottom of the tower, the key turns in the lock with less ease than you thought. Instead, you turn the knob and the door pops open with a creak.

“Opens from the inside only,” Jungkook huffs out a laugh. “I’ll get the key back to where it was.”

You hand him the tablet faithfully, and in the matter of a minute, he’s back to hand it to you. The bike in question is indeed not very far. As red as his tank top, chained before the beautiful mountain scenery. There’s fog coming up already.

“Don’t have any tea available I’m afraid.”

“Will get warm when I’m pedallin’,” he removes the lock from the bike with a number code, then puts on the helmet attached to it. “See you tomorrow, Miss Y/N. I try not to walk past your office too often.”

“Oh, my clients will be more than satisfied, I’ll have more time to lean back. Got a lot of work done today. If you want, I cook something in the Wok for everyone at lunch. Tit for tat. I liked your pizza, Kookie.”

“Tit for tat?”

“You don’t know that expression? It’s not because of my boobs. They’re fine now.”

“Ah— uh, sorry for that again.”

“Tit for tat just means, ah, compensation. Back and forth. I’ll treat you to something, hm.”

“Sure it’s gonna be delicious.”

“We’ll help Namjoon get over his allergy as well. I’m confident.”

Jungkook’s eye smile appears under the brim of his helmet. You ask whether you can take a picture with your phone before he leaves. Oh sure, Miss, he says, adjusts the tank top. You zoom in a bit, center his face. There’s still a bit of blue paint on his nose. Click!

© 2017-2019 submissive-bangtan. All rights reserved. Do not translate, repost, or modify. a/n: A little soft queued treat for you while I’m on hiatus. Love you cubs.

[everydarkcorner]

can we get some blackmail up in here

Absofuckinglutely we can!

@poppyrous “Interrogation” is coming up next time. ;)

Read on AO3!

Blackmail

When Robin’s communicator beeped—only Robin’s communicator—his heart dropped into his stomach.  Because who would ever only call him?  Batman?  Alfred?  Something was wrong.  It had to be.

              Reaching for his communicator, he stretched out his

other hand to switch off the treadmill.  The belt rumbled as it slowed

under his feet.  Panting, Robin flipped the communicator open.  He tapped on the message, and at the same time grabbed his water bottle and took a swig.

              Which turned out to be a mistake, as an image of him, utterly naked, flashed up on the communicator screen.

              Robin choked, stumbled on the still-moving treadmill belt, and smacked his head on the control panel.

              Legs buckling, he tumbled off the side of the treadmill and slammed into the floor on his back.  In the corner, Cyborg looked up from where he was lying back on the weights bench, an impossibly heavy bar bell raised over his head.  Beast Boy, supposedly spotting Cyborg but actually watching cat videos on his communicator, looked up with a sympathetic wince.

              ‘I’m fine!’ Robin gasped, Cyborg could come over.  He rolled over, snatched up his communicator, and snapped it shut.

              Cyborg set down the bar bell with a heavy metallic clang.  ‘You sure, man?  I think I heard your skull crack.’

              Robin staggered to his feet, crushing his communicator in his fist.  ‘Yeah.  Yeah, I’m fine.  It’s fine.  I’m just.’  Blood pounded in his temple; he pressed a hand to it with a grimace.  ‘I’m just gonna go lie down.’

              ‘Uh-huh.’  Cyborg somehow manage to arch an eyebrow he didn’t have, sharing a suspicious glance with Beast Boy.

              Ignoring them, Robin rushed out of the gym and down the corridor.  Starfire had dragged Raven out on some shopping trip, so the rest of the Tower was empty and quiet—but Robin still glanced up and down the corridor before reopening the communicator.

              Blood rushed into his face, burning-hot.  The photo was undoubtedly him.  He was lying in bed—in his bed, here in the Tower—the blankets coiled around one leg, and his head thrown back against the pillows.  His eyes were closed, his lips parted

…

              And his hand curled around his cock.

              He stared, hand shaking around the communicator.  Who?  How?  Cyborg updated the Tower firewalls practically every week.  How could anyone sneak a photo of him—of him—

              The communicator beeped again, and Robin almost hit the ceiling.

              Hissing through gritted teeth, Robin clicked the button to open the new message.

             I think it’s a good portrait of you, Robin.  – S

              Robin swallowed.  S.  A wave of heat crashed through his body.  For a moment, his thumbs hovered over the buttons.  Then he typed out one word.

              Slade?

              The response came in seconds.

              Who else?

              Robin stared. No.

                No, no, no.

              How?  How had Slade snuck a camera into the Tower, let alone Robin’s own bedroom?  The shot was angled from above; Robin looked up now, scanning the empty ceiling for a small, robotic shape.

              Nothing.

              Another message flashed up on the screen.

                That was only a screenshot, Robin. Would you like to watch a clip?

              He didn’t get a chance to respond.  The video pinged through a moment later, and Robin’s numb fingers hit play before he could stop to think.

              It was the same shot, watching him from overhead.

Except it was worse, because now he was moving, sliding his own hands down his body to squeeze his half-hard cock.  In the video, Robin hummed, raised his hips and stroked with one hand, while the other traced back up his body and flicked over his nipple.

              Holding the communicator, Robin went cold.  Shit. Shit, no.  He remembered this. No, no, no, no, fuck—

              The Robin in the video closed his eyes, rocking his hips against his hand.  And then he turned his face half into the pillow, drew a long breath, and sighed, ‘Slade …’

              Robin snapped the communicator shut.  ‘Shit.’  He closed his fist around the communicator, hand trembling, chest aching.  Then he realised he wasn’t breathing, and took a huge, shaky gasp. ‘Shit, shit, shit.’

              It was a just a fantasy.  A stupid fucking fantasy.  No one was supposed to hear.  No one was supposed to know—

              The ring of his communicator went through his aching head like a spear.  Not a message this time—a call.  He stared at it, stomach tight, heart pounding.  Finally, inevitably, he flicked it open.

              ‘Slade?’  The word came out as a croak, his throat dry as sand.

              On the screen, Slade’s single eye narrowed as he smiled behind his mask.  ‘Did you enjoy the video?  I must say, I’m flattered, Robin.’

              ‘Shut up!’  Robin glanced behind him, but Cyborg and Beast Boy hadn’t left the gym, and the Tower remained quiet.

              ‘You don’t like it?’  Slade tilted his head.  ‘Shame. I can think of plenty of people who would.  Some of your adoring fans might appreciate seeing your more … intimate moments.  Or I could always send it straight to Wayne Enterprises.’

              Robin went cold.  ‘No.’

              Slade knew.  He knew about Wayne Enterprises, which meant he knew about Bruce, which meant he knew about—

              ‘Of course,’ Slade continued, as if he’d never been interrupted, ‘I could be persuaded to keep this private.’

              Robin hissed.  ‘What do you want?’

              He couldn’t see it, but he knew Slade’s smile grew wider.  ‘Well, Robin … that is the question.’  Slade stared up from the communicator screen, silent for so long Robin thought he wasn’t going to answer.  Then, finally— ‘Go to your room and lock the door.’

              Swallowing, Robin nodded and hurried through the Tower.

              He could barely breathe around the lump in his throat.  Fuck, fuck, fuck.  What could he do?  If Slade released that video …

              Sure, it was a crime.  Slade would be in trouble—Robin snorted—as if being ‘in trouble’ had ever bothered Slade.  And Slade would never be caught, because he never was.  And in the meantime, that video could—would—make it across the Internet.  Across the world.  And as if the shame wasn’t enough to make Robin sick, what if people recognised his face?  What if they connected Robin with Dick Grayson, and Dick Grayson with Bruce Wayne, and Bruce Wayne with—

              His chest tightened.

                Dad.

              He couldn’t do it.  He wouldn’t.  He wouldn’t let it happen.  Whatever godawful job Slade had for him, he’d do it, and then he’d find a way to get hold of that recording and destroy it.

              Hitting the switch for his bedroom, he stepped in the moment the door swished open, then locked it the instant it shut behind him.  Drawing a breath, he tilted his head back to stare up at the ceiling.  Empty.  If Slade’s camera was still there, he couldn’t see it.

              Robin lifted the communicator.  ‘Now what?’

              ‘Take off your mask.’

              Robin narrowed his eyes.  ‘No way—’

              ‘I’ve already seen your face, Robin.’  Slade’s voice was smooth and even.  ‘Take it off.’

              Grinding his teeth, Robin reached up, and peeled the mask away.  He dropped it on the carpet.  ‘Happy?’

              Slade laughed, soft and breathy.  ‘Of course.  Now put the communicator on your desk, and sit down.’

              Crossing the room on stiff legs, Robin thumped down in his chair and set the communicator on the table, screen facing towards him.

              ‘Push your chair back, Robin.  I want to see you properly.’

              Robin scowled.  ‘What, no more hidden cameras?’  But he shoved his chair back regardless.

              ‘Do you think I’d tell you if there were?’  The angle on Slade’s camera shifted; Robin got the impression he was also sitting down.  ‘Take off your belt.’

              Robin’s heart thumped.  ‘What?’

              ‘Your belt.’  Slade drew each word out, slow and precise.  ‘Take it off.’

              Robin didn’t move.  ‘Why?’

              ‘Because otherwise, I will put that video online for the world to see.’  Slade’s voice turned cold.  ‘Do it, Robin.’

              His hands didn’t feel like his own.  Robin reached for the clasp on the belt; fumbled; finally unbuckled it.  It slid off his hips, snakelike, and thudded to the floor.

              ‘Now,’ Slade’s voice was whisper-soft, ‘hands on your knees.’

              Robin set his hands on his knees, trembling.  His stomach coiled, and a voice in his head screamed, Wrong, WRONG!  But his feet were pinned in place, and he couldn’t lift himself out of the chair.

              ‘Bring your hands up your legs, Robin,’ Slade said.  ‘Slowly.  Knees apart.’

              Robin’s fingers tightened on his knees.  ‘No.’

              ‘Yes, Robin.  I want to watch you.’

              ‘You already have.’  Each word felt like forcing razors up his throat.

              ‘I want to watch you do it for me.  Just for me.’  Slade shifted; leaning back in his seat.  ‘I want you to look into the camera when you moan my name.’

              Robin jerked, and would have leaped to his feet if not for—

              If not for the blood pooling between his legs.

              Facing burning, he gripped his knees in both hands.  ‘You’re blackmailing me … to get more blackmail material?’

              ‘You’re overthinking it, Robin.’  Slade’s voice was soft again, almost comforting.  ‘I liked what I saw, and I want to see more.  Imagine I’m there.  Imagine it’s me running my hands up your legs.  I know you like it.  Touch yourself.  Touch yourself for me.’

              He didn’t say ‘or else’, but Robin heard it.  And finally, achingly, Robin dragged his hands backwards up his legs, fingers stiff and shaking.  He couldn’t breathe.  He couldn’t—he couldn’t—

              ‘That’s it, Robin.  Push up your shirt.  Let me see you.’

              Closing his eyes, Robin swallowed and shoved his shirt up, hands brushing over his stomach—his chest.  In bed, on his own, it felt so natural.  Just something he did, like showering and brushing his teeth.  Now, every movement was stiff.  He felt like he was standing on a cliff edge, toes already hanging over the empty air, and so close to falling.

              ‘Relax,’ Slade breathed.  ‘Just pretend it’s my hands on you, Robin.  Pretend, like you did before.’

              Something caught in Robin’s throat, and with a surge of heat he realised he wanted to moan. It was Slade’s voice—the way he let each word roll deliciously off his tongue, as though he was savouring every syllable.  Robin bit his lip, and without Slade’s prompting, flicked his thumbs over his nipples.  He tipped his head back, biting down on another moan at the spark-like tingles that shot over his skin.  He imagined Slade’s hands, tracing his chest.  Slade’s mouth, closing over a nipple and sucking, licking, biting—

              He pinched a nipple, hard, and whined at the sweet, sharp sensation.  Was that how teeth would feel?  Panting, he did it again, shivers racing down his spine.

              ‘Yes, Robin.’  Slade sounded breathy, lower even than usual, and with a rush of heat Dick realised he might also be touching himself, somewhere below the view of the camera.  ‘Show me what you want me to do to you.’

              Closing his teeth on his tongue, Robin slipped one hand down his body and into his pants.  For all his effort, he couldn’t restrain the automatic, ‘Hnng!’ as his fingers closed around his cock.

              ‘Pants down, Robin,’ Slade murmured.  ‘I want to see.’

              Robin wriggled, lifting his hips enough to shift his leggings down.  And—fuck—he was embarrassingly hard, throbbing painfully.  Sweat trickled down his back, and his face was scalding, and he moved his hand around his cock and groaned.

              ‘Good boy,’ Slade growled.  ‘What are you imagining?  Tell me.’

              Robin’s head spun.  ‘Your—your hands on me.’

              ‘And?’

              But he couldn’t form words.  Couldn’t think.  Blood pounded in his cock and he ached and the room was spinning.  And it was all he could do to keep his hand moving, and Slade—Slade was watching him—

              Slade didn’t seem offended.  Instead, he took over, murmuring so low it all sounded like a threat.  ‘I will have every inch of you, Robin.  I will taste your skin, and press you beneath me, and watch you writhe while I fuck you.’

              Robin whined as the pressure built in his cock, his hand moving faster as he climbed higher.

              ‘My name, Robin,’ Slade said.  ‘Look at me.  I want to hear my name.’

              ‘Slade,’ Robin breathed, ignoring the knot in his stomach.  He was so close.  Not just on the edge of a cliff anymore but teetering over, longing to fall.  ‘Slade, Slade, Slade—’

              His eyes flashed open as the tension through his body snapped all at once.

              He managed, just, to fix his gaze on the communicator, his vision hazy and unfocused.  He wasn’t sure if he was moaning Slade’s name anymore, or just moaning, but either way he was tumbling, wind roaring in his ears, and he felt breathless and alive—

              He slumped.  Tipped his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes.  His hand was wet, and his legs ached, and distantly he recognised the ongoing thump, thump, thump in his head where he’d bashed it on the treadmill.

              ‘Very good, Robin.  You are … perfect.’

              Robin blinked and lifted his head.  Slade’s expression was impossible to read, and Robin didn’t try to answer.

              ‘Next time,’ Slade promised, ‘I will have my hands on you.’

              The screen flashed, and went black.

              Robin sat staring at the blank communicator for far too long.

                Next time.

              Next time, he’d hear Slade’s voice up against his own skin, rather than through a tinny speaker.  He’d feel Slade’s hands tracing his bare skin.  He’d feel the weight of Slade’s body pressing against him.

              He shivered.

                Next time.

[ms-camucia]

"That lightsaber. It belongs to me." Why Maz Kanata Knows Some Shit Regarding Ben Solo

It’s why her eyes are so big. They’re full of secrets.

So, I haven't written any meta since... Well, roughly 2004, and it wasn't called 'meta' back then on 'ol Leaky Cauldron, it was just fan theories. So I apologize if I'm rusty, and if someone has postulated on this previously.

Basically, I have two theories I want to lay out here:

-Ben Solo was the one to find the Skywalker lightsaber -Rather than keep it, he entrusted it, along with some other possessions, with Maz Kanata

Oh Maz, you hoarder.

Timeline wise, this is a little sketchy, especially since we don't have too much canon to work from. We know that, in 28 ABY (Bloodline), it had been a little while since Leia had heard from Luke or Ben, but she didn't seem too concerned, so presumably it hasn’t been overly-long. By the time we see Kylo Ren in TFA, he's obviously been in the First Order for a bit, but for fewer than 6 years, since TFA is in 34 ABY.

My thought is that Ben found the lightsaber at some undefinable point - it may not even be important when - just that he found it, and kept it safe. He could have found it back in the Jedi school days, keeping it hidden, or he could have found it post-Luke's Jedi School Fiasco, but pre-Snoke.

Either way, Ben didn’t immediately go to Snoke after the Luke Incident. 

“When I get out of here, I’m going straight to the creepy man who’s been in my head since I was an infant!” said no one ever.

Just logistically, unless Snoke was there in the goddamn First Order minivan, ready to pick up Ben after Jedi School was left in a burning ruin, there's some time between the massacre and Ben Solo becoming Kylo Ren. In a period I'm roughly defining as "The Jedi Killer," since this follows early concept art of a Kylo-like figure who hunted down any artifacts having to do with the Jedi, Ben Solo has some time that's completely unaccounted for. 

“There’s some slight boxing around the edges, but it’ll sell as new.”

That's where Maz, and the "Good Story For Another Time" comes in.

So, let's try to establish that unaccounted for time.

Ben Solo, in his eyes, just had his uncle try to murder him. Something goes down, such that six students die, and six go with him. These kids - yes, he’s 23 and presumably just murdered some people, but if Luke called him a “frightened boy,” he’s a kid - are scared, confused, and looking for answers. But let's say they don't just hightail it to the First Order and find Snoke, because that would be ridiculous, no matter how much Snoke has been in Ben's head - the First Order is something that only exists in whispers by 28 ABY, and Snoke wasn’t there from the beginning. 

These kids want answers about the Force that they couldn't find with Luke - so they start looking. I'm already imagining some dark, Scooby-Doo/Indiana Jones mashup of the pre-Knights of Ren tracking down ancient Jedi and Sith temples and artifacts. They're successful - they find plenty of stuff, but very few answers.

Enter Maz Kanata.

This is the face of a woman who is already so done with this shit.

Maz has been established as someone with ties to Han, Chewie, and even Leia - in Forces of Destiny, it’s revealed that she's the one who gave Leia the Ubese disguise she uses in ROTJ. I think it's safe to say Maz Kanata is an Organa-Solo family friend, and most definitely someone a young Ben Solo would have met. As said by the woman herself, she knows the Force, and has clearly been around for a while. She's probably one of the first people Ben thinks to go to for help (especially if he's trying to delay the inevitable Snoke In The Head).

So Ben, and possibly the other students, go there, and she probably wheedles the entire Luke story out of a still-shellshocked Ben. Who knows - maybe he even confesses to her something about Snoke, knowing that she’s old enough to have a clue what’s going on with that guy (maybe she even sends him to Snoke, if he’s simply known as some “wise” Force-user. That’s a grim thought). Either way, Ben Solo is a man possessed at this point (possibly literally), and is just generally freaked out and on the run. Maz is old. She’s seen these eyes before.

And she’ll see them again.

(sidenote here - one can lift Finn’s dialogue with Rey at the end of this scene, and it would play out beautifully in IX with Ben/Rey if/when he leaves the First Order, and presumably tries to bail like his dad did in ANH. Maybe he even saves them in the Falcon. Poetry, rhyming, etc.)

This would be some Grade A ceramics right here.

ANYWAY, I get ahead of myself. So, we have:

Freaked out Ben Solo

Hoarding Jedi/Sith artifacts

Goes to Maz Kanata for answers

Spills his guts about absolutely everything

Maz agrees to keep his secrets - and his shit - before he runs

Like I theorized above, I think Maz is the last stop before Snoke. Maybe she tries to stop him, tells him to go home, but sees that this is the path he has to follow for right now. Ben would want to leave behind anything that could be seen as Jedi-ish before he goes to Snoke, and that would obviously include the Skywalker lightsaber, and anything else he had at this point. So he drops his Jedi stuff off with Maz.

Screenshot courtesy of me and Photoshop’s Highlights/Shadows.

I think what we’re seeing here is what was ditched. The lightsaber, maybe some Padawan clothes, what looks like a book or journal (see my fanfiction for my thoughts on Ben and writing things down), and some trinkets and bundles. Who knows if Ben told her where he was going, or if she already knew - either way, he’s on his way to become Kylo Ren. Someone will need to bring him back. Like the Lady of the Lake parallel that she is (someone else has made this connection, right?) Maz knew that, eventually, the right time and person would come for the saber, and maybe bring back Ben Solo - and thus enters Rey. 

“Ben.”

Maz basically has this girl’s number from the get-go - she immediately realizes her importance, tries to get her to leave her past behind by telling her what Rey herself wouldn’t believe until it came from Kylo/Ben, and attmepts to set her off on her hero’s journey. Of course, whether knowingly or not, what Maz actually does here is literally send her into Kylo/Ben’s arms.

Kylo shot first in the Great Thigh Grab war.

My final point I have to make here concerns the Starkiller lightsaber fight. Kylo has no reason to be able to immediately recognize the Skywalker lightsaber - it was last seen in canon attached to Luke’s severed hand, tumbling through Bespin’s ventilation system. Unless Luke spent his years as a teacher doing loving, technical drawings of the lightsaber (I mean, that’s what I do as an art teacher), there’s no reason for Ben to know it on sight unless he’s seen it before - and he knows that thing in a goddamn heartbeat.

But we all know what happens after this. Kylo goes from a completely unhinged madman possessed to making this face at the lightsaber in Rey’s hands.

Good lord, just compare this face to either of the ones above it. Boy is besotted.

And thus ends Kylo Ren’s focus on the lightsaber. To him, after this moment, the saber is Rey’s. 

He even puts it back in her damn hand.

Kylo/Ben doesn’t fight her for it again until TLJ, and even then, it’s less about the lightsaber and more about the million other things going on between the two of them in that moment. But that’s a good story for another time.

...And I’ve let what was originally a series of drunken screencaps I made at some point turn into an entirely-too-long meta. The last point I want to make is even a bit more meta - with the death of Carrie Fisher, we have lost our maternal figure in this trilogy. If JJ Abrams is a smart man, he is probably thanking his lucky stars that he set up Maz the way he did here, since someone will need to take up the position of the wise, older woman that helps bring everything back together.

If you’ve read this whole thing, congratulations. Sorry I went off on a bit of a rant, but this has been in the back of my mind for a while. Let me know if I’m completely off-base here.

[slinkerscribble-blog]

Neverwinter Nights: Enhanced Edition is great because of the multiplayer.

Originally posted  4/25/18 on Kotaku’s community blog “TAY”. Posting it here because of TAY’s uncertain future as a way of preserving some of the stuff I wrote there.

https://tay.kinja.com/neverwinter-nights-enhanced-edition-is-a-great-remaste-1825288724

These days we so often see remasters or other ports of games that people can sometimes question the necessity of releasing them at all. Other than for the cash. At first glance developer Beamdog’s Enhanced Edition of Neverwinter Nights doesn’t really seem that spectacular compared to the cheaper old version available at certain digital stores. Just a few months ago I replayed Neverwinter Nights single player campaign after I got a free copy on GOG, and it worked fine playing on a modern PC. Even if it has always been a unpleasant game to look at.

The Enhanced Edition does little to improve the games graphics other than making it possible to play in higher resolutions. But beyond than that it’s hard to find any differences that stand out. I know I read somewhere the lightning and shadows are much better this time around. But I can’t say I notice this while playing. So if you already have a working copy of the old game I would seriously question why you would need this version.

That’s it, of course, if you are only interested in playing it single player.

What made me instantly buy the new version of the game was the news that the multiplayer will once again fully work and with it any mods and player made levels from the old game. (I suspect this is a big reason why improved graphics are so limited) That means any server still running Neverwinter Nights can become available instantly in this new version.

When the original game came out in 2002, it was originally developed as a toolkit for anyone to create and host their own D&D adventures and then make them available for people to join online, or to write your own single player adventure. The toolkit was rather easy to learn but complex enough that you could recreate Baldur’s gate completely if you wanted to. This spawned a large community of different servers with their own lore, rules and settings. Many of them felt like their own MMORPG where the players base controlled what happened in the world. A large part of these communities were also strict on roleplay, meaning that you have to act your character. While Neverwinter Nights is far from the only game that players have roleplayed in, few other games have successfully grown such a large community around it. Rather, in many games offering the possibility of roleplaying it feels like a minor part of the online community. In Neverwinter Nights it is a huge part of the game’s overall design.

One of the types of servers I enjoyed playing on was Zombie Survival. It turned the D&D-based game into a zombie survival simulator. Deaths were often a permanent affair, meaning that your character, which you might have spent plenty of time creating could disappear instantly. The highest level you could achieve on these servers was often around 5. By D&D standards this meant you would always be a scrub. Besides, reaching the highest level wasn’t an easy task because you could only gather significant experience points by exploring the world and gaining certain items. This was extremely risky, because there were few areas that were safe from the undead and healing yourself was always limited. In many regards these servers were unbalanced and could be extremely hard for new players, but once you learned where to find certain items you could become hard to kill. This also lead to interesting scenarios where players were roleplaying desperate characters of whom a great many died, but a few grew into veteran survivors.

Although as the years went by and the multiplayer communities decreased in player numbers, NWN always managed to keep a dedicated player base and a few strong servers running. Eventually Gamespy, which hosted NWN’s server list, closed down. After that you could only join a server by typing the IP address yourself. Which to many felt like the death of the multiplayer. This is because the lack of a server list made it almost impossible for any new server to make themselves known and even if the game was still being sold, very few of those new players would go through the effort required to find a single active server.

So for me, the old version of Neverwinter Nights being sold today is half a game. Even if you technically could play the online multiplayer, it was so inaccessible it was probably completely unknown to most people.

Which brings me back to me buying the Enhanced edition the day it launched: Even if the game is now 16 years old and considered dead by most, a few servers have stayed alive for all this time. Most of them were instantly accessible to log into from the Enhanced edition’s new server list, though many of them required mods. This was not much of a problem though, as the Developer had made many of those mods easily available with the addition of Steam workshop support. Small things like installing these various mods and packs could be a hassle even at Neverwinter nights’ prime time and doing so has never been as easy as it is now. This has made a lot of old players and servers return to the game, and to my pleasant surprise, among the servers was Zombie survival.

It’s hard to describe how nostalgic all of this has made me feel. Imagine if a game you loved that has been completely unavailable to you for 12 years suddenly came back. When I saw that a Zombie Survival server was available to play I was so excited to experience it again that I instantly gifted a copy of the game to an old friend to join me. A friend I met online 15 years ago in the very same game on a similar server. Once we logged onto the server, we had a discussion about if we should roleplay at all or just try and avoid other players and stick to ourselves. As soon as we were there though, we had automatically slipped into our old comfortable roleplaying habits. One of our first meetings with other players was running into two self appointed “knights” who were a bit too nice. They started by offering us some aid in finding food and asking if we would like to go exploring with them.

“So you guys are friends, huh?” My character asked them.

“We are comrades in arms” One of them replied. We quickly started to suspect they were more than just comrades though, as they kept flattering each other constantly.

Afterwards we met a party consisting of an female Druid, a rogue and a paladin so full of himself that we all secretly hoped the zombies would get him. Together as a big group we came to a particularly dangerous cave unavailable to players most of time as accessing it required a certain rare item. Once inside though, we knew we had a higher chance of grabbing some better items. If we could survive the zombie hordes filled in the tiny hallways of the cave. After we finished looting and were about to get back to a safe location the following discussion broke out:

The Druid started the conversation: “I hope we can get out of here.”

“As long as I am here we’ll be fine.” Harold the paladin answered confidently.

“If you fight like that, you’ll die sooner or later. Probably sooner.” I replied.

Larry the rogue was not having it: “Don’t be so pessimistic lass”

“I’m a realist.” I responded.

Unfortunately for all of us my character’s instincts were right and several of our group died on this adventure.

As I kept playing, I realized how long it has been since I was able to engage in this sort of immersive, in character communication with other random players. For me, it’s less about acting the role of a character and more of a chance to be creative with your writing among other people. While I recognize that this kind of exercise can often end up being silly or immature, few games that I have played make something like this work so well between random players. That was a large part of why I spent so much time playing the original Neverwinter nights, and it is something that I’m so happy to be able to experience once more.

None of that would be possible if Beamdog hadn’t put their effort into creating a new version of the game, complete with a fully functioning multiplayer mode that supports old content from the community. To be honest, I think they could have probably gotten away with not touching the multiplayer at all, and focused solely on providing access to the single player campaigns on modern PCs. Playing this new enhanced edition I realized that the remakes or other forms of rereleasing old games that I feel are the most important, are those of games that isn’t available anymore. Even if Neverwinter Nights has, in some form, been available to play this whole time, it is only now that you can experience the actual full game again.

Thank you for reading! I’m a swedish dude by the name of Joakim Jonsson who enjoy playing and analyzing all sorts of games, but perhaps the most with RPGs. If you wanna read more stuff by me I have an article about Witcher 3, and every Tuesday I host TAY’s Open Forum. If you wanna send me an email go ahead at: Joakimjonsson07@gmail.com

Also a large thanks to Jussi liimatainen who spellchecked and edited this.

The screenshots in this article are slightly modified to make the chat between players more visible.

[homebeneaththestairs]

garden gnomes and group chats

Sirius to felons or falcons: im ready to pass or die

Remus: I literally sent you a study package two weeks ago 

Peter: i left u my notes from last semester what are you doing with your life? 

Sirius: not studying 

Sirius: I thought that was really obvious

Sirius: cmon guys get with the program 

James to Remus: i left snape a step by step instruction manual on how to properly wash his hair 

James: its in his locker 

James: what do u think are the odds that he’ll actually figure out how a shower works?

Remus: first of all: oh my god 

Remus: secondly: good job.

Lily to Sirius: s2g black give me back my pencil case 

Sirius: it was an emergency 

Lily: you’ll be in the emergency room if you don’t give it back to me 

Peter to felons or falcons: guys guys guys 

Sirius: don’t u dare 

James: don’t 

Peter: reminder that college applications start today! 

Sirius: blocked. 

Peter: :////////:

James: yeah u think about u did 

Remus: I’m in the library right now filling out applications 

James: blocked. 

Sirius changed the group name to: if remus mentions colleges one more time i’ll kill him 

Remus changed the group name to: sirius stop using the group chat name to make a point 

Sirius changed the group name to: make me

Remus to slim slam dunk slimmies: I swear to god that i will kill whoever keeps leaving raisin boxes in my locker 

Remus: I’m talking to you James and Sirius 

Sirius: i literally have no idea what ur talking about 

Remus: someone keeps leaving those boxes of raisins in my locker and i hate raisins why do you guys keep doing this?

Sirius: I’m going to go with innocent until proven guilty, mate

Remus: I’m not an idiot 

Remus: its either you or James doing this how stupid do you think I am?

James to Peter: so when r u going to tell Remus that you’ve been breaking into his locker all year?

Peter: probably never

James: respect that 

Sirius changed the group name to: plexiglass fuckers 

Peter: wait what 

Remus: How does one even?

Sirius: carefully, and with punk attitude 

James changed the group name to: punk is really dead get over it black 

Sirius: im never talking to u again 

James: but u just did 

Sirius: damn it 

James to james potter is a secretly a walking talking jar of jam: im failing out of english and its a problem 

James: like seriously 

Sirius: yes?

James: literally not the time buddy 

Sirius: i always have time for u 

James: bro <3

Sirius: bro <33333

Remus: sirius shut up 

Remus: what do you mean you are failing out of english? have you done any of the readings? 

James: hamlet is literally the worst torture in the history of ever i can’t get through it and i’m so far behind i need help i just got a 40% on the paper and she gave me an extension to redo it but i don’t know where to begin 

Remus: you’re going to be fine 

Remus: i’m messaging a friend. maybe she’ll agree to tutor you 

James: bless u 

Peter to Remus: fuck u 

Remus: what on earth did i do to deserve this 

Peter sent to Remus three screenshots 

Peter: he hasn’t shut up about her dainty little wrists yet 

Peter: u did this 

Remus: oh my god what did i do 

Remus to Lily: how did it go with James?

Lily: I think I found the problem

Remus: he was dropped on his head as a small child?

Lily: ???

Lily: no he’s been trying to read a copy of Macbeth, not Hamlet 

Remus: why am I friends with these people?

Peter to four guys with great hair: i dunno y but sirius makes great decisions when drunk 

James: wait u went drinking without me?

Peter: u said u wanted to watch lily do homework at the library 

James: u make it sound so much creepier when u say it like that 

Remus: why did you call me 20 times tonight?

Peter: sirius tried making a fire 

Remus: with what??

Sirius: e v e r y t h i n g 

Peter: actually though 

Peter: it was a bit more of an explosion than a fire tbh 

Sirius to Remus: not to be controversial 

Sirius: but i really don’t like bbq sauce

Remus: literally wtf is controversial about that 

Remus: also its 3am fuck off 

Peter to the discount spice girls: i forgot we had homework in history 

Peter: someone skip history with me

James: im in chem but sounds coolio 

Sirius to the discount spice girls : wait we had homework 

Sirius: don’t leave without me guys 

Sirius: guys?

Sirius: g u y s 

Remus to Sirius: you submitted your applications right?

Sirius: ???applications,,,, 4 wat?

Remus: why are you like this 

Sirius: oh yeah college appLications 

Sirius: kind of 

Remus: this is the last day to submit 

Remus: where are you 

Sirius: in the libBBrary picking progRams out of a hat with James 

Sirius: do u think i could work with kids?

Remus: i think the kids would be to mature for you 

James to the Lily Evans Appreciation Group: she is so perfect 

James: she loaned me one of her gel pens today

James: GEL 

Sirius: ohhhh gel?

James: gel. 

James: purple gel pen 

Sirius: wow thats serious 

Peter: ^^^ :D

James: i honestly dunno whats better. the fact that she blessed me with one of her pens, or her eyes. 

Remus changed the group name to: mention lily’s eyes one more time james

James: they’re literally the most beautiful eyes i have ever encountered 

James: like they are honestly so green 

James Potter has been removed from group. 

James to Peter: have u seen sirius?

Peter: no

Peter: craig said he saw him hitchhiking earlier, looked pretty bad 

James: im grabbing the car 

Peter: i’ll meet you by the school

Peter to the Remus Lupin is a Moon Man: i got rejected by my safety school 

Sirius: im literally on my way with beer 

Remus: where are you getting alcohol from? 

Sirius: i broke into bellatrix’s apartment and stole her stash of candles and beer like yesterday 

Sirius: james the jim was the get away driver 

Sirius changed James to jamesthejim

James: honestly that school was stupid 

James: you’ve got plenty of time to hear back 

Peter: liar 

Remus: trust him on this one 

James to Sirius: he keeps baking cookies 

Sirius: aw shit 

James: we ran out of dairy already 

Sirius: no please don’t tell me 

James: he started making vegan cookies 

Sirius: sinful 

Remus to the Peter Won’t Stop Baking Support Group: he got rejected from another school and he’s moved onto making cupcakes 

Remus: I think he’s crying 

Sirius: i’m in the middle of calc homework i want some pie 

Sirius to Peter: james is making a move on evans 

Peter: omg no way 

Sirius: yes way 

Sirius: they’re at her locker 

Peter: im across school report everything 

Sirius: k well james tried that awkward leaning thing beside her locker and lily dropped her textbook on his foot 

Sirius: i dunno whats redder her hair or his face 

Sirius: nm his face is way redder 

Sirius: he asked if she wanted to meet up for coffee but she thought he meant for tutoring and im dying his face 

Peter: maybe this will be the end to all that is perfect about lily evans 

James to wtf does duolingo not have elvish????: Lily told me this really clever riddle today 

James: i didn;t get it 

James: at like all 

James: but she was so happy and so cute 

James: im gonna marry her 

Sirius: u jinxed it peter 

James to Remus: I GOT ACCEPTED 

Remus: I’m so glad Lily dragged your marks up for admissions 

James: ikr same 

James to the Peter Won’t Stop Baking Support Group: his mom started selling the cakes that he was making 

Sirius: i dunno y i keep offering to eat them 

Remus: he made over thirty cakes today 

Remus: half of them were coconut flavoured 

Sirius: so?

Remus: you’re allergic to coconut????

Sirius: yeah but if i die i don’t have to do homework 

James: lucky 

Remus: i hate you all so much

Remus left the group. 

James added Remus to the group. 

Remus left the group. 

Sirius added Remus to the group. 

Remus: i hate u both

Sirius to Remus: not 2 b political or anything but technically every war is a skeleton war if u think hard about it

Remus: w h y 

Peter uploaded a video to james stfu about evans: here we r blessed by remus singing starman 

Remus: i remember none of this 

James: i thought i was the one that sung that 

Peter: no u got really drunk and started moving your lips to the words and got excited that u learned how to talk and not talk at the same time 

James: wait what time was this even 

Peter: 10pm 

Remus: where’s sirius?

Peter: see that questionable lump in the right corner of the video? that’s sirius basically dead 

James changed Sirius’s name to questionable lump. 

questionable lump: y u do this

James changed the group name to: lily’s eyes are like glitter i swear

Sirius changed the group name to: literally no one cares

Sirius to Remus: i see u 

Sirius: posting some whimsy status about college acceptances 

Sirius: whatever 

Sirius: thats only a little cool, moon man 

Sirius: siriusly though congrats 

Lily to James: why did sirius throw glitter at me outside homeroom? 

James: oh my god 

James: im so sorry

Sirius to Peter: did u know that james has been stealing garden gnomes and hiding them under his bed?

Peter: that is the weirdest fetish 

Sirius: ikr i wanna hide them in remus’s locker 

Sirius: it’ll be really funny 

Peter: omg lets 

Sirius to the Baking Has Stopped Bless All: the oven is off 

James: oh thank god 

Remus: wait i was hoping he’d try doughnuts next 

Remus to James: do you know if sirius has heard back from any schools yet? 

James: dude i was just going to ask u that 

Remus: shit 

Peter sent three links to Remus: k so i know one of these is a literal dumpster but sirius basically is a dumpster 

Remus: i see no difference 

Peter: James liked the second one option for the apartment 

Remus: oh god i’ve agreed to live with james potter and sirius black in one house 

Peter: how bad could it be?

Remus to WHERE DID YOU GET THE GNOMES FROM: wtf guys 

Remus: my locker 

Remus: they all came falling out

James: wait 

James: where did the gnomes come from 

Sirius has left the group. 

Peter has left the group. 

James: damnit they found my stash of gnomes 

Remus: ????????????

Lily to Remus: why did you have my mom’s garden gnomes in your locker?

Remus: what 

Lily: the gnomes 

Lily: i recognized them from the ones that went missing 

Remus:this is definitely not what you think

Lily: black stole them didn’t he?

Remus: sure 

Lily to Sirius: im gonna find you

James changed the group names to felons or misunderstood falcons?: i wrote lily a poem 

Sirius: no no no 

James: roses r red, violets r blue 

James: i hate flowers but love u 

Peter: i can’t tell if that was sweet or not 

Sirius: u should totally give that to her 

Remus: sirius no 

James: im committed to the plan 

Remus to Sirius: have you gotten any news from the schools you applied to?

Sirius: yeah funny story 

Sirius: i sort of messed up applying 

Remus: wait so you didn’t send out any applications??

Sirius: naw just messing with u 

Sirius: i heard back months ago 

Remus: R U KIDDING ME 

Sirius: i broke u this is the best moment of all 88 years of my life. 

Sirius: yeah though. haven’t opened anything yet 

Remus: you mean you never opened the letters?

Sirius: yeah no i liked the suspense 

Remus: jesus christ open them right now i will cut you 

Sirius: cool beans i got in 

Remus blocked Sirius. 

James to Lily: i like u a lot 

Lily: ask me out then 

James: wait what 

Lily: i’ve been literally waiting all year 

James: jesus christ will u go out with me 

Lily: yeah y not 

[0225pm]

ok hi haahahaha this is such a late post, and there are still a lot of belated posts i haven’t fill in yet bc i’m such a lazy ass wtf but ok anyway!!!! 

///////

today was supposed to be a special day.

ok not really cus we met on the 24th, a day before the actual date we got together cus han has work on 26th so in consideration of him needing some time to rest, we decided to meet on the 24th so we can stay out late and then he can use the rest of the day to sleep.

truth be told, halfway through the day things started becoming ugly. like ok, let me tell yall from the very beginning ok.

ok so we decided to meet at orchard cus the night before we planned to catch a movie – jumanji, the 4:20PM time slot. and like as usual i was late zz even though i was on a frikin uber. like tbh i could have reached in like 30 mins or even lesser if there wasn’t any other passengers in the car. like i don’t get it ok why are the drivers so damn greedy wtf if it’s one other passenger sharing i wouldn’t mind la but there were 2 other passengers and both of which were going different locations. so like the driver had to drive to 3 different locations and mine ofc la had to be the last one right :-) but ok wtvr so when i was on the ride, i decided to google the seating plan for the movie but the shitty thing was jumanji at 420pm was a really small theatre so most of the good seats were all taken. 

and by this time han was getting frustrated with me cus i was late lol and he was all like “can we even still watch the movie can you even make it?” and i was being all pissy cus of the stupid other passengers shit so i said “yaaaa we can still watch the 5+pm show”

then i googled the seating plan again but lmao even the 5+ one was shitty af cus the good seats were all taken so i checked the 940pm slot and it’s the larger seating theatre so there were still plenty of good seats not taken yet.

i finally reached orchard AND DID I MENTION HOW CROWDED IT WAS THAT DAY WTF fucking humans everywhere but i guess it was inevitable since it was the eve of xmas and like i should have known but zzz shitty. but ya then after i met han i told him that all the earlier timeslots has shitty seats and showed him the screenshots i took. so we decided to catch the 940pm timeslot instead.

walking to lido was so annoying bc all the other humans don’t know how to fucking act and move in a streamline manner wtf but ok anyway when we reached lido, the amount of people queueing to buy tickets were super crazy so i ended up just booking the tickets on the website instead and that saves us so much time and trouble from having to wait in line.

and thennnn ok we or should i say i, was supposed to link up with seanna and her bf to go to the carnival together (sorta like a double date thing but not really) but before that they were going to the xmas wonderland thing so i thought hmm maybe we can grab lunch/dinner together first then since they were making their way to orchard also but lol end up they started eating without us so i’m just like okkkkk. we saw them, i waved hi and then we went on our separate ways from there. like we didn’t even hang out like we planned to lol but nvm then han was a little irritated cus he was hungry but there were so many people everywhere and i was being indecisive as usual so i just randomly suggest places to eat and then we went to check out the food court but there wasn’t any available seats so we ended up just having our lunch/dinner at crave nasi lemak. the lemak cili padi chicken set i got wasn’t very satisfying. han got the usual chicken wing set. 

ok then like i tried to link up with seanna again but idk i feel like for someone reason she was just trying to avoid me, us?? or maybe she just wanted to spend the rest of the day alone with her bf but i feel a little disappointed bc it would have been great if she straight up tell me instead of like making me wait for a reply. but ok ya we failed to meet up again.

and thennnnn we were walking around the mall killing time and i went inside factorie, before that han was being so distant and poopie idk why but then ya we went to factorie and i tried on some shorts bc they were on sale but ended up not getting any cus they didn’t fit me right around the waist. before that i tried to ask han for some opinion but like idk why to me it just sounds like he was pissed off and insensitive and i felt hurt and tried to keep it inside and to pretend that it didn’t hurt me but lol i couldn’t hold it and started giving him the silent treatment. 

honestly idk why i’m so sensitive, i cry so easily these days over really minor things, some things are not even important but you know on days like these all i want was to be held, to be comforted, to be given attention, to be cared for, to be loved, to feel the love, but for some reason i couldn’t feel it from him cus he didn’t give it to me. 

like he could have given in to me and like idk apologize or something, even if it’s not his fault, i feel like he should have at least done something like holding my hand, or pulling me to a corner and just quietly giving me a hug or something like idk i feel like just doing something so simple like that could have soothe me right there and then but he decided to become fire too and it sucks bc it was supposed to be a memorable happy day.

and then for a while we just sat in silence, waiting for the hall to be open for our movie but we had like 40 mins left to kill and i felt so bored and tired of sitting there i just wanted to go out for a breather so i told him and at this point, he was just sitting there using his phone and all not paying me any attention. like as though whatever’s on his phone is way more important than me. and that made me mad and i felt even more shitty so i just stormed off and went down, out of the mall and walked around aimlessly. i was hoping that he’d follow me and idk just grabbed my hand and ask me if i’m ok or not or idk just show that he care and i thought he was following me but i guess not bc he lost me so he called me and asked me where i was and bc i was still fuming, i added more oil to the fire but after awhile, i felt like shit so i went back and walked towards where he was and then we walked to far east plaza and just walked around inside the mall for a bit.

i asked him if he was hungry and i guess he was craving for pezzo or something cus he asked me if there’s any pezzo around and i said yes there is but it’s quite far after that i asked him if wanted to go but he was like nah.

so i said it’s ok we still have like a lot of time to kill we can go and get pezzo if you want it (at this point i thought he don’t want to go bc i told him it was far but i remembered that there’s one at the basement of ion and it was quite near to where we were) so i walked towards ion and like he had this super black and unhappy face on so i asked him if he’s ok but he’s just like “ya just walk” so i did and then we finally arrived at pezzo then i asked him what he want but he just like look super frustrated and then teared up and i was so shocked bc i honestly didn’t know what was going on and then he told me that he felt like vomiting but i didn’t want to listen to him blablabla and i was like??? how would i know if you didn’t tell me and when i asked if you’re ok you said just walk??? then he was like “i already told you i don’t want what” and then i tried to become water bc i felt bad but he pushed me away both times when i tried to hold his arms wtf he has never pushed me away before (i don’t think he has ever did that pushing away motion to me before) so from trying to become water, i become fire again. i was so fucking??? wtf?? like i tried and truth be told i wanted to go home on the spot cus i felt so shit!!!!! but our movie was gonna start and it’ll be such a waste so i stormed off towards lido walking as fast as possible to keep the distance between us and i........ did something stupid again. it doesn’t hurt as much as the other time but that’s just because there’s no concrete walls which sucks at that point of time but anyway ya we went in the hall and to our seats.

after awhile, han became water. idk how or why or maybe sitting in darkness makes people think or reflect or something idk la but he apologized and grabbed my arm and then started doing his sniffing my hand habit thingy and putting my hand on his face all and that’s when i just crumbled. i was crying like a baby without sound. bc that was all i wanted, like throughout the whole time we were arguing and giving each other the silent treatment that was honestly all i wanted. him holding my hand, telling me things will be ok, that things are ok just with that one action. i think that was why i probably cried like the feeling of relief and being comforted just turned on the waterworks in me.

we held hands for a bit during the movie and ok yall gotta go watch jumanji it was amazing!!! (i think i literally say the same thing for every movie i watch) the casts are rly cool and there were a lot of hilarious scenes. and then after the movie, i asked han if he was sending me home and he said yes so we walked towards the bus stop and even though it was already around 12, some shops were still open and so was this small pezzo stand so i got some pizzas while waiting for han who was waiting in line in 7-11. 

luckily we made it in time for 65 cus i think it was the last bus already towards the east. 

upon reaching my place, we sat at the usual spot and ate our pizzas. and both of us were broke af so we couldn’t afford to book a ride home for han so he decided to take the first train back and since we got time to kill, we talked for a bit and then he wanted to sleep but i kept annoying him asking him to wake up and give me attention hahahahahaha and then i felt shitty la cus like he finally got up cus he was irritated after i said that he’s always sleeping only but then we were just sitting in silence again lol so i stood up and went down cus i just wanted to walk around alone for a bit to cool myself down bc i don’t want to ruin the day by becoming fire again and i was about to walk a little further down towards the other lift until i heard footsteps and someone grabbing my arm hahahahaha wah like drama like that right!!! but what he did = instantly cooled me down and then he asked me where i was going so i said i’m just gonna go walk around and he can go and sleep if he want to then he pulled my arm and wrapped himself around me while we went back up lol wth and even though i kept asking “isn’t it uncomfortable like this?” i was secretly enjoying it la mcm bodo hahahahaha why ah we always say the opposite of things its like we like them but we will always deny the fact that we like what they’re doing rly bodo sia. 

then he started staring at me and smiling like a fool wth!!!!! and i was soOoOooOo panas wtf like i can feel my face getting hot bc i was blushing like crazy??? can your boyfriend actually do that to you when he’s ALREADY YOUR BOYFRIEND? wtf like i thought the blushing thing only happens if you’re secretly in love with someone and they do something cute to/for you or something idk but holy shit i was blushing la ok and like he just kept pulling me closer and making eye contact and smiling mcm taikkkkkkk so cute wtf stop itttttttttt fml ok *breathes* then ok end of story

overall we ended on a good note la maybe i thirsty la so long never get dick alr HAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH JKKKKKKKKK

but ya we’re ok nowwwwwww bye i love you hahahahahahaha

ps: second pic of us tgt is a few months old pic cus we didn’t take any that day but ok ah still cute hahaahaha

[topicprinter]

TLDR: I bought a site on reddit for 4K, partnered with another redditor, and together we spent 2 months completely retooling the business. We followed this up with 3 months of marketing, and we’re now less than 30 days away from $100K in revenue.This is a post on how we did it.(Read time: ~15 minutes).Grab a cup of coffee and get comfy! I’ll get right to it.THE INNER WORKINGS OF A SUBSCRIPTION BOX COMPANY.So about 6 months ago, I came across this thread from a guy looking to sell a website he owned:I contacted him and found out that it was wetshaveclub.com, a wet shaving subscription box. I felt like I could make it work given the fact that dollar shave club had proven out the model. “Ok, Let’s do it!” This was the extent of my analysis on this. The site owner sent me a screenshot of his revenue, I offered about 15X his monthly profits, and we wrapped everything up that same weekend. We skipped the usual back and forth dance people go through when they’re buying websites. I sent over the money, he sent over the passwords, and that was that.I reached out to redditor u/kaster who I had been talking to on skype for some time. He had read my original series of posts, followed it to launch and grow a local business to 40k/month, sold it, and spent a few months in Costa Rica on vacation. We had never met, but I felt like he would be the perfect person to work on this with me. This is a guy that does not play around when an opportunity presents itself. Case in point: A few weeks later he was in his car for a 5-day drive from California to the east coast so we could work on this. (Kevin’s Facebook post as he was hitting the road).Ok, so here’s what we did to get moving:Step 1: Website RebrandingThe original website needed some work and we set out to change the look and feel of it. Design is critical, and even more so with a consumer product where emotion is a large component of the buying decision. Click to see of our branding efforts.Step 2: Expanding the Product line and raising pricesSo the original service only delivered soaps and at a price of $12 per month. We felt that we had to double that price to make this worthwhile. In order to do this we had to expand the product line and provide more value. Click to see how we expanded our product line.Step 3: Box RebrandingSince we were now shipping more products (and we had rebranded the site), the next effort was to find a box that worked. We called around to different box suppliers and had them send us samples. We settled on Salazar packaging. We sent them our box design and they got on it. Click to see our box rebranding efforts.Step 4: Increasing prices and adding annual optionEverything so far took us about 2 months of balls-to-the-wall work, but things were starting to shape up. We were then able to increase prices to $29 for the monthly box instead of $12. We also added an annual version at a reduced monthly rate to see if people would prepay for an entire year. And they did. Click to see our new pricing options.Step 5: MarketingSo with our conversion rates up, and our box at a higher price point we were able to unleash the hounds. You’ll see that most of what we do is completely free marketing mixed in with a few paid sources. Click to see how we drive traffic.Step 6: Ordering, Warehouse and ShippingSo with the results of our efforts, we needed space. We were shipping from our living room and while I had a small office, there was no way we could do it from there any longer. So we found an office/warehouse, moved in 10 days later and got everything set up. Click to peep the warehouse.Bonus: Our new office.So the result of all this work: We’re going to hit $100K in revenue in the next 30 days, and just passed $78K (Obligatory screenshot). We did $22K last month (Cratejoy screenshot)-They have pretty awesome analytics btw, and we’re on pace to do $35K in September. We think we can hit our first $100K month in 6-12 months and join the ranks of /u/bandholz from beardbrand.com. Dude knows his stuff and I respect how much he shares with the community. In some ways I think we’re cut from the same cloth, he’s just smarter and better looking!What Comes Next: We’re launching an accompanying ecommerce store. This way, when folks find products that they like in the box, they can order more of them. In addition, we can expand the product line a bit to include additional grooming products and other men’s accessories. Click for a sneak peak of the upcoming store.TAKEAWAYS FROM ALL OF THIS!This is hard work and we made a lot of mistakes and will continue to make more. We’re working every day on providing a better customer experience and trying to improve the product line. We went into this not knowing a thing about selling and shipping products, logistics, inventory, warehousing, or even wet shaving for that matter. But we live in the information age. Anything under the sun can be figured out if you’re resourceful enough and willing to bust your ass until you make yourself an expert in that thing. We’re not well connected, nor do we access to a gazillion dollars in VC funding. We just work. Hard. And we’re just getting started.The companies that made this happen:Cratejoy.com for our subscription box web platform. (Awesome service and Amir rocks!)Salazarpackaging.com for our box (Great to work with)Sonicprint.com for our inserts (Karen is the bomb)99designs.com for our design work (I wish I owned this company)Uline.com for our warehouse shelving and box fill (Their delivery speed is insane)Shipstation.com: (Integrates with cratejoy to handle our shipping. This gives us life!!)Endicia.com: (Integrates with Shipstation so we just print labels from our computer. The truth!)Stripe.com: Payment processor (You already know)Perfectaudience.com: Re-targeting (Works. Well! ROI positive and helps with branding too)Kabbage.com: $15,000 Line of credit (Surprisingly smooth experience)Gleam.io: Contests (Super awesome set up and easy to add virality to your contests through sharing)TeamBeachBody.com: (haha, we do insanity every morning before work! Thanks Sean T)If you’ve made it this far, props.This is where the case study ends!But if you’re interested in taking a look at the mindset that has gotten us to this point, read on.Launching something:I read almost every front-page thread on r/entrepreneur and have done so for the past 2 years, so I know a lot of folks are stuck right now with coming up with something to launch. Here’s what I would do if I wanted to start a new business today and had no idea what to do next:1) Check your bank account for something you’ve spent money on in the last 12 months. Bonus points if it’s a recurring service of some sort (Your customer lifetime value is instantly boosted, and you can thrive even with a high customer acquisition cost). Either way, you know it’s something that people already spend money on. This simple rule eliminates fantasy ideas: “If I get enough members I’ll figure out how to monetize it later.” Later never comes, so ideas like these don’t get a minute of my time. The only things I work on are things where I can make money starting on DAY ONE!2)Narrow down the list to things where a lot of people are making money in that industry. Competition is good. I know, this goes against everything you’ve learned somewhere. But the more thriving competition you find, the more money is being made, and the larger the market. Join the party, throw your hat in the ring, and be at least as smart as somebody there. Most people search for a great idea with no competition without realizing that this makes it almost impossible to start something.3) Narrow things further to something that can be delivered with a simple but well designed website that cost no more than a month’s salary. If it’s a product, you’ll then have to find someone that will let you re-sell his or her product. If it’s a service, you simply have to find someone that already provides that service. In both cases (product or service) you’re just re-selling something, and with a well-designed website, you’ll double your chances that your supplier will feel comfortable enough to let you resell their thing. Yes, good design is important for both your customers and your suppliers! Don't launch with bad design!!! MVP or not!4) When you get that “Yes” from a supplier, make sure you set things up so that you’re not in the customer’s way. Make things as easy as possible for them to do business with you. Seriously, remove all hoops. They should be able to do business with you as easily as they do business with Amazon. If you don’t need that extra field on the form, get rid of that shit. As easy as humanly possible!5) Market your thing until you pass out. If your thing is something that really speaks to a person’s identity like grooming, fashion, makeup, fitness, etc. you can kill on social media (twitter, instagram, Facebook, YouTube). If your thing is more detached from a person’s identity like say a car wash or home cleaning, your best conversions will come through search (adwords, seo, yelp).A few additional thoughts:I think that a lot of “startup best practices” work well for people that have access to funding. For the rest of us, some of the generally accepted ideas end up pushing folks further away from launching something. Consider:Validation: Validation in my opinion is for fantasy ideas. If you stay away from having to come up with an awesome idea, you won’t need validation in the first place. There are plenty of things you can do that other companies have already validated for you. And when you find that thing, stop worrying about competition. Competition IS the validation.Competition: Stop measuring this by quantity. One of the first things you’ll hear is “the market is oversaturated”! This is meaningless, yet this single phrase has stopped more potential entrepreneurs in their tracks than…well I honestly can’t think of anything that beats this. Start looking at the quality of the competition instead, and you’ll often find that the market is saturated with a LOT of bad players, and they’re making a LOT of money despite being so bad.** This is the perfect situation.Business plans: This often ends up being a way to push action further down the road. If It’s longer than one page you’re wasting your time. Download something like this, fill that bad boy out, and get to http://ift.tt/1usFNjQ: Unless the company can pay for it, it’s not happening. So this only happens AFTER the company is making money. One more excuse...GONE!Business Analysis: Demographic data, market analysis, the economic outlook... blah blah blah. More ways to kick the can down the road and to feel that you’re doing something when you’re really not. I just get to work. If a lot of people are making money doing this thing, the startup cost is low, and there is no sorcery involved, it can be done!Fear of your idea being stolen: Ideas hold little intrinsic value without execution. However, you can start to extract value when you get feedback on it, massaging it, push and poke it, and really run it through the wringer. And the only way to do this is to tell people about it. This goes against our most basic instincts because we’re fearful that our ideas might be stolen. Well the reality is, most people are sitting on the bench with a gazillion ideas of their own that they are not executing on. You just added one more to that list. Either way, if an idea cannot survive competition it’s probably not that good in the first place. In addition, what happens when you launch? You can’t run a business without telling anybody about it. You’ll often get this response, “ But I’ll lose my first-mover’s advantage?”. Well good. I would never want to be the first mover anyhow. First movers bare a tremendous cost in educating customers. Most of us don’t have the money to bare that cost. The folks that are second and onwards, can just slide in and benefit from all of that work. For example, I don’t have to explain the concept of a subscription box service sending you shaving equipment every month. Most people already know what this is, thanks to Dollar Shave Club. Bottom line: Try to get over this stuff.Find something you’re passionate about: Nah son. Find something that is viable. I’m passionate about table tennis, but I’m not looking to turn that passion into a business. When it comes to business, I’m far more passionate about providing a good product/service that has good margins, than about being able to marry that business to any hobby or other exciting pursuit I may have in my regular life. This way, I’m free to work on the best opportunity that arises without limitation. And honestly, quite often the least sexy industries are where the big money is being made. So while most of the brainpower is busy chasing sexy mobile apps and such, you can make bank by selling ugly widgets or providing basic services. It’s tough to pay bills with app downloads.A note to Engineers and consultants: Resist the urge to complicate things. For technical folks, it seems like the inclination to complicate things is overwhelming. So a problem like “find people that need lawn service and connect them with people that provide lawn service” becomes, “well how about we use Zillow’s APi to pull a picture of the lawn, and the customer confirms it by drawing an outline of the area to be serviced and we tie that into Google maps and feed everything into a pricing algorithm”.... and on and on. Unfortunately, many of these guys do not make it. More often than not simplicity wins. Get out of the customer’s way.Start something small to get practice: You don’t get good at running marathons by reading about running marathons. And you don’t get good at business by reading about business. You get good by doing. And doing it over and over again. But just like you wouldn’t expect to win the first marathon you entered, why put so much pressure on yourself to win at the first company you start? Or worse yet, paralyze yourself with fear into never running at all because you’re afraid you won’t win? It doesn’t make sense with marathons and it doesn’t make sense with business. So while a lot of folks over-analyze every minutia about the thing, people like Kevin and me would have already downloaded a training regiment, bought a pair of shoes, and hit the bricks.What if I fail? Nothing happens! It’s literally the most mundane non-event imaginable. I spend a day or two wrapping up any loose ends, head to the movies or do something fun, and by the next day I’m already figuring out what the next thing is. My personal experience hasn’t been “Try->Win”, it has been more like “try, fail, try, fail, try, fail, try, fail win, win, win, win.” With each failure you get better, and then things just start to come easy. Don’t be afraid of failing, it’s like the best and cheapest MBA you’ll ever get.Naysayers: If you’re doing something...I mean anything, you’ll meet them. Whether it’s in real life, on the Internet, or wherever else. Sometimes it’s even your friends and family. I keep an imgur album of the best ones I come across. Sometimes for a little motivation, and sometimes just to look back and smile. For example, recently I mentioned in passing that my next big project will be a restaurant, and I already have a list of comment screenshots explaining why I won’t succeed. :-)Here’s one of my favorite ones from a few years back when I was making $4k per month, from what was a new company at the time. This was the top comment on Hacker News.That little company now pays me a 6 figure salary. What intrigued me about this comment was the fact that it was so thoughtfully written. This wasn’t a troll. This was someone that provided a seemingly well-reasoned analysis of where he thought I would be in 12 months, complete with business school type analysis: barriers to entry, competitive landscape, etc.So why is this important? Because this is exactly what many of us do to ourselves.We have a naysayer living permanently inside our heads that is constantly appraising and analyzing every business idea we entertain. And the analysis sounds just as reasoned, and well thought-out and measured as the one I posted above. Not a bad thing on its face, but the guy in our head typically skews negative. Shut that dude up! Or you’ll analyze and over think and what-if every single idea until you convince yourself it won’t work. Over time this messes with your confidence, and you end up paralyzed. Say what you want about the guy, but Kanye was right about this: Most people are held back by their perception of themselves! It’s a brutal feedback loop.At some point we have to just say “Fuck It” and get to work!Okay peeps, hope this was helpful to at least one person. Oh, and for making it this far even if you skimmed…:-)AMAEdited to add our Facebook Group where we continue this and other business discussions:And where you can download this in PDF form (along with other writings of mine).And my twitter page.

[marymosley]

Turkey Torts (2019)

In celebration of Thanksgiving, I give you our annual Turkey Torts of civil and criminal cases that add liability to libations on this special day (with past cases at the bottom). Many criminal defense attorneys and torts attorneys give special thanks for a holiday that can involve copious amounts of alcohol, strained family relations, over-the-hill amateur football players, “Black Friday” sale stampedes, and novice cooks.  These cases are why Johnny Carson said “Thanksgiving is an emotional holiday. People travel thousands of miles to be with people they only see once a year. And then discover once a year is way too often.”

Have a happy and safe Thanksgiving!

CDC Photo

For the second year in a row, 2019 saw a nationwide recall of Romaine lettuce with the danger of widespread sicknesses due to E. coli inflections. Already over 40 people have fallen ill from the lettuce linked to Salinas, California. In addition, ground beef and chicken to Cheez-Its and Whole Foods-brand gelato have been recalled. The litigation over last year’s lettuce recall has only just started due to the statute of limitations. Now, a new slew of negligence and strict liability claims are expected across the country.

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Macey’s Parade also did not disappoint with its balloon-related mishaps. The giant 67-foot Ronald McDonald balloon had problems right out of the gate. As soon as the clown began his parade, organizers noticed a 3-inch gash on his right leg. The officials had ordered that the balloons fly lower this year due to high winds and the result was that they were close to the trees. What is amazing is that the organizers said that they could not find any repair tape and decided to just continue. It was a negligent omission and a fateful one: the rip quickly enlarged and Ronald collapsed near the crowd and had to be dragged from the parade. The video shows various balloons struggling in the wind and bystanders and marchers scrambling to avoid being hit

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Worse yet, the giant Nutcracker actually assaulted a marcher in full view of the cameras. Having decided to fly the balloons despite near record winds, the Nutcracker came crashing down on a woman who was flattened by the faux soldier. One could easily make out a claim of negligence though I suspect that these marchers are given waivers to sign that are just about the same height as the inflatables.

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If you are thinking of having Thanksgiving with all of the strippings, think again. In 2019, various men went to have their traditional night at a strip club in Palm Beach. The holiday spent at The Rose Gentlemen’s Club went off the rails around 3 am when the patrons started to argue and then drew guns. One man was killed and two injured. This is precisely why most of us eat excessively and then collapse into a food coma on the couch.

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2018 Thanksgiving ended with a bang at the Lamadrid house. Jorge Luis Valencia Lamadrid, 51, got into an argument with his son over the NFL kneeling controversy.  Lamadrid shot Estenban Marley Valencia, 21, after they had already started throwing patio furniture at each other. With the Trump impeachment unfolding in Washington, we will awaited similar reports of Thanksgiving dinner conversations that go terribly wrong. –after their argument led to patio furniture being flung at each other.

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A recent survey of New York doctors found that 60 percent saw an increase in ER visits for cooking wounds and turkey carving accidents. Some 47 percent saw an increase in gastrointestinal complaints from food poisoning or overeating. Some 42 percent saw an increase in burn wounds related to cooking, including deep frying of turkeys. Finally, 15 percent reported increases in orthopedic injuries from Thanksgiving-related activities, such as the annual “Turkey Bowl.”

Thanksgiving Day is generally the leading day for home cooking fires with 1,550 across the country — 230 percent above the average number of fires per day.

The cases from injuries last year are just now being filed under the statute of limitations, but it has been another bumper crop of Thanksgiving torts.  In 2018, roughly a couple hundred salmonella cases were already reported before Thanksgiving morning even arrived this year.

We have yet to see a filing over the emotional distress caused by this year’s microwave Turkey prank where college kids are texting their parents to ask how long to cook their turkeys in the microwave.  Some things are happily left out of the courts.

We have a slew of unwanted guests at Thanksgiving dinner cases. Last year, David Williams was arrested after he argued with his sister because she did not want the 56-year-old Williams to bring his girlfriend to Thanksgiving dinner.Williams  preceded to attack his sister’s 54-year-old boyfriend with a knife after the boyfriend tried to step in and defend her.  The result was Thanksgiving dinner paid for by the state with hundreds of other inmates.

That is still better than the 2018 Thanksgiving dinner where a dispute over the contribution of a crack to the meal resulted in a bizarre series of events from an assault with an antenna to a vacuum being thrown through a window to an eventual murder charge.

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There is one Good Samaritan that will hopefully have a less eventual holiday this year. A Connecticut man was thrown off a bridge on Thanksgiving last year after he intervened to protect a woman in an argument with her boyfriend.  The victim and his friend told Gregory Rottjer (left) to “chill out” and allegedly Rottjer and his friend Matthew Dorso became enraged.  Rottjer then threw the Good Samaritan off the Derby-Shelton Bridge — a 45 foot plunge that almost killed him.  What is unbelievable is that the woman, Jennifer Hannum, was also charged in the case in resisting one of the officers who came to find her boyfriend.  The Connecticut Post reported that the three fled the bridge but one of them dropped a cellphone at the scene.  Rottjer allegedly admitted to police “I did it. I threw him over the bridge.”  Rottjer was charged with criminal attempt at murder, first-degree assault, and first-degree reckless endangerment.  Dorso was charged with third-degree assault and Hannum was charged with interfering with an officer. This is clearly a new plot twist on Luke 10:25-37.

David Williams, 56, finally resolved who will not be invited to Thanksgiving.  He is clearly off the list.  The Queens man in 2017  became angry about who would be invited, specifically whether his girlfriend would be included.  When his sister Dianna Gadson, 66, objected, he grabbed a knife.  The rest is Norman Rockwell meets Jerry Springer.

Williams allegedly got into a shouting match and then shoved Gadson, prompting her boyfriend, Silas Stewart, 54, to intervene.  Williams is quoted as saying “I want you the f–k out of here” before stabbing Stewart in the chest with a kitchen knife.  He then fled.———————————————————

Last year, the Kellem family started early by bagging a 30-pound wild Turkey in Indiana when it went smashing through their rental car window. Indeed, this year saw repeated warnings of aggressive wild turkeys during mating season causing accidents and injuries.  The result is a horn of plenty for litigators.

Of course, some accidents have happy endings. For example, the Macy’s parade (as discussed below) has had its share of balloon accidents but last year’s parade featured Miss Piggy saving singing icon Tony Bennett from a potentially disastrous slip and fall. 

Likewise, no one was hurt when a wife reportedly varnished her turkey.  Her husband decided earlier to put some varnish in a container in the refrigerator.  The wife proceeded to baste the turkey with it. The guests remarked on how picture perfect it looked but then discovered that beauty is only skin deep.

A combination of the criminal and civil sides of Thanksgiving can be found at the Brooklyn House of Detention.  The inmates were served Thanksgiving dinner by the guards only to have 16 collapse incapacitated.  Guards and jail kitchen workers are accused of deliberately tainting the carrot cake with rat poison.

The lawsuit alleges that the defendants tried to cover up the crime by getting rid of the leftovers from Thanksgiving but several samples of the defiled dessert were preserved.  The inmates required stomach pumping and emergency room treatment.  They are seeking $1 million for “the negligent, intentional, careless and reckless conduct” from the city, the Correction Department, the jail’s correction officers and named staff.  This is going to make this year’s dinner . . . well . . . awkward.

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The 2017 cases include a Georgia company that is likely to conclude that no good deed goes unpunished.  The TOYO Tire plant arranged for a catered Thanksgiving celebration over two days in White, Georgia.  The result was devastating its workforce after the catered meal produced a salmonella outbreak in its ranks.  Some 1,800 ate the catered meal.

The Golden Ponds restaurant in Greece, New York is still being hit with new cases in the litigation stemming from last year.  Some 260 people became ill over the Thanksgiving holiday weekend after celebrating at the Golden Ponds Restaurant and Party House.

The cause  was later traced to the gravy at the buffet at Golden Ponds.

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According to some reports, James Graham, 48, was upset with how much his 16-year-old nephew was eating at Thanksgiving.  He response was to go up to his room, retrieve a shotgun and shoot his nephew to death. According to his brother, Graham told Freland Pridge “You know you better slow down after all that eating.”  Pridge reportedly responded “My grandmother made this for me and I’m going to eat this.”  That is when Graham went for his shotgun.

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Butterball is a company familiar with lawsuits that are part of producing a large share of the some 44 million turkeys sold each year for the holiday. However, Butterball this year is the plaintiff rather than the defendant in a lawsuit against an Australian company.  The North Carolina-based company is suing a small wine outfit, McWilliam’s Wines, for one of its wines labeled Butterball Chardonnay.  The lawsuit in North Carolina claims a violation of its trademark and that the use of “Butterball” as a mark will undermine “The consumer goodwill associated with the BUTTERBALL Marks is one of Butterball’s most valuable assets. Accordingly, the integrity of the BUTTERBALL Marks is extremely important to Butterball and crucial to the continued vitality and growth of Butterball’s business.”

Of course, no one would confuse a bottle of Chardonnay with a Turkey, but that does not seem to matter under our increasingly absurd copyright and trademark laws.

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Last year, Shawtaine Hayes, 37, was charged with aggravated assault and aggravated battery charge for threatening one woman and stabbing a man. Last Thanksgiving, Hayes stabbed a man on the morning of Thanksgiving after some holiday drinking. Her defense? She said that she “thought he was a turkey.” She also threatened another woman with a carving knife. Hayes admitted that she started early celebrating the holiday with “Four Loko” but later insisted that they man stabbed himself in his stomach and right shoulder.

On the torts side, this year saw litigation in O’Connell v Macy’s Corporate Servs., Inc., 2016 NY Slip Op 31716, in which Keri O’Connell sued the parade sponsor for injuries from the famous balloons. She was one of the handler for one of the balloons and another employee was assigned to trail the balloon handlers in an all-terrain-vehicle. She was injured while handling the Buzz Lightyear balloon when a golf cart rolled over her foot, causing a fracture. It was not Buzz that was the culprit however. Rather it was the guy in the golf cart. The Court granted summary judgment this year due to the fact that the Plaintiff “knowingly and voluntarily consented to the Release via an electronic consent as part of her online Application, and that the Plaintiff would not have been able to complete her online Application without checking off on the Release as part of said application.” In other words, she waived being run over by a golf cart.

Of course, the balloons themselves have been tortfeasors in past parades. In 1997, high winds pushed giant displays of the Pink Panther, Barney, Cat in the Hat, and others from side to side. The 43 mph winds brought down various balloons, with Barney, Pink Panther, Quik Bunny, and Cat in the Hat succumbing along the course of the parade. A police officer actually took a knife to the Pink Panther. Around 72nd street, the Cat in the Hat hit a lamppost and Maria Clohessy and Kathy Caronna both suffered head injuries during the incident. Caronna sued after spending a month in a coma after being hit by falling debris.

This year saw more Black Friday lawsuits from injuries in prior years (generally subject to a two-year statute of limitations). One such case now in court was brought by Amanda DuVall, 28. DuVall got into line on Thanksgiving evening for the Walmart sale in an effort to get a $49.99 tablet. She was one of the first in line but was knocked to the ground and stomped by other customers pushing to get a $49.99 tablet. DuVall said she waited three hours. She argued that Walmart violated the Consumer Protection Act by failing to tell customers that the store did not have enough tablets for demand — causing the stampede. She is asking for $75,000 but Walmart moved the case to federal court and is contesting the case.

While proximate causation is often cut off by the intentional torts or criminal conduct of third parties, courts have extended liability in some cases. For example, in Weirum v. RKO decision holding a radio station liable for injuries caused to a third party when teenagers drove recklessly to find The Real Don Steele in his marked van. The court held that the reckless driving was a foreseeable response of teenagers to the promise of free concert tickets. Of course, these were not teenagers but Black Friday fatalities are infamous. ________________________________________________________________________

Michael Hobbins was shot after being mistaken for a wild turkey by a fellow hunter in Union County, Pennsylvania in 2010. Leroy Miller was following a turkey when he heard a noise and took the shot. He bagged Hobbins who was blinded and suffered aneurysms due to the injury.

To make matters worse, Miller is a convicted felon and is barred under state law from possession of a firearm for hunting or self-defense. Accordingly, Miller was in violation of a statute in addition to being negligent.

_______________________________________________________________________ Brian and Christa Caponi of Gulf Breeze Florida was not trying to bag a Turkey but raise a pet. However, her neighbor, Jacob Hayden Provo, 18, saw something more tangible: a Thanksgiving dinner. Joshua Warren Anderson, 19, and Provo used a bow and arrow to kill Tom. While the Caponi’s have 50 dogs, cats, chickens, and other animals, “Tom the Turkey” was like a dog to their family. They have been charged with armed burglary, armed trespassing, theft of livestock and animal cruelty.

The crime was captured on the surveillance system of the Caponi family. When police pulled over Provo, he allegedly lied and said he killed the bird in a nearby city. He later confessed.

These cases are difficult in torts because such pets are valued at their replacement costs rather than their sentimental value. In the eyes of the law, Tom is simply an Eastern wild turkey worth $300. To capture the pain and suffering in such acts, plaintiffs will often proceed on negligent or intentional infliction of emotional distress claims.

___________________________________________________________ Thanksgiving means one thing for personal injury lawyers: food poisoning. The problem is that the larger the case the more difficult the causation. A case in point is the aftermath of the potluck dinner this year at a Mormon church in Logandale, Nevada. Not sooner had people finished their meal that they began to run for bathrooms with vomiting and diarrhea. The food poisoning sent over a 100 people to clinics and hospitals. Officials are trying to determine what dish was responsible for the poisoning but the evidence may have been lost. In a similar case (Samson) below, the doctrine of res ipsa loquitur was applied. However, for such a large gathering with different dishes, the factual cause of the poisoning would have to be found. An alternative approach would be to pursue the Church itself for failure to supervise or monitor such food services. However, it was clearly understood that this was a potluck by those gathering at the church.

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Putting aside the food, the company at Thanksgiving can be lethal. Last year, we had the assortment of family members arrested in brawls, including a sister who stabbed her brother with a fork over Thanksgiving dinner. However, none of these cases prepared the guests at the dinner with Paul Merhige who snapped at a Thanksgiving dinner in 2009 and killed four family members. Merhige later pleaded guilty in the deaths of his 73-year-old aunt Raymonde Joseph, his cousin’s 6-year-old daughter Makayla Sitton, and his 33-year-old twin sisters Carla Merhige and Lisa Knight.

His parents were later sued by his cousins Muriel and Jimmy Sitton. The dinner was held at the Sitton house with the Merhiges and their son Paul. They alleged that the Merhiges knew that their son was unstable and hide the danger from them and the other guests. The lawsuit therefore advanced a novel negligence claim. Normally, criminal actions will cut off legal causation, though not always. In some cases, crimes have been found foreseeable. However, a court recently dismissed the case. Palm Beach County Circuit Judge Meenu Sasser ruled that the parents are not responsible for the actions of their adult children. In other words, you eat Thanksgiving dinner with adults at your own risk. While they can clearly sued Paul Merhige, he is likely judgment proof. __________________

We have the usual array of Thanksgiving burn cases that overwhelmingly involve deep-fried turkeys. One such case Serafino Alfe, 30, outside of Chicago who described his accident as a case where “I basically fried myself” when he was frying a turkey for an annual fundraiser and tripped right into the deep fryer. No lawsuit have been filed in such cases where negligence only injures the negligent party.

Source: Huff Post

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Also from my home town was the hospitalization of 7 people in a Thanksgiving dinner. The host used a charcoal grill inside the home and served up heaping helpings of carbon monoxide poisoning. Twenty people reported feeling sick. The case remains within the statute of limitations, but a negligence action would appear an obvious possibility (even with plaintiffs’ conduct).

Source: Pantagraph

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One fairly straightforward tort and criminal case from 2011 is from Omaha, Nebraska where Cindy Kellogg, a grandmother making Thanksgiving dinner, was shot in the arm. The man, however, can defend himself that this was accidental . . . he was aiming at the fleeing children. Her 14-year-old grandson fell fleeing the man who starting shooting at playing children for no apparent reason. Incredibly, however, there is still no record of an arrest of the man.

Source: KETV ______________________________________________________________________ Brian and Christa Caponi of Gulf Breeze Florida have a potential tort claim against their Panhandle, Florida neighbor who (with a friend) used a bow and arrow to kill their pet Turkey. While the Caponi’s have 50 dogs, cats, chickens, and other animals, “Tom the Turkey” was like a dog to their family.

The two arrested teens said that they saw a 30-pound Thanksgiving dinner rather than a pet. They have been charged with armed burglary, armed trespassing, theft of livestock and animal cruelty. As we have discussed, these cases are difficult in torts because such pets are valued at their replacement costs rather than their sentimental value. To capture the pain and suffering in such acts, plaintiffs will often proceed on negligent or intentional infliction of emotional distress claims.

Source: FOX

_______________________________________________________________________ 2011 Listing A company in Fremont, California is facing a hostile work environment over ridiculing an employee for her celebration of Thanksgiving. Promila Awasthi, an Indian-born American citizen works at Infosys as a computer consultant, alleges that she faced a hostile work environment for celebrating Thanksgiving and was refused compensation for overtime hours worked. Infosys is a large India-based technology outsourcing company with offices in the United States. She alleges that her bosses made fun of her celebrating an “American” holiday because she is Indian and insisted that she work on Thanksgiving Day. She said that they responded to her request to celebrate Thanksgiving by calling her an “ABCD,” which stands for “American-Born Confused Desi.”

Source: Eboss

——————————————————————— Greenberg Smoked Turkeys, Inc. v. Goode-Cook, Inc., No. 10-621, (Complaint filed November 23, 2010, E.D. Texas)

A Texas court is looking into whether copying Turkey cooking instructions is a copyright violation.

Greenberg Smoked Turkeys has sold turkeys with some simple instructions composed of three short paragraphs. It also posted those instructions on the web. Later it found the same or similar instructions appearing on its competitor’s website for Goode-Cook. The case will turn on the “merger doctrine” and the principle that, while ideas are not copyrightable, it is possible to copyright how those ideas are expressed. Here is the challenged instructions:

Our turkeys arrive at your door ready to eat. Refrigerate immediately. The turkey will keep in the refrigerator for 6-8 days. If you do not plan to use it in that length of time, it should be frozen.

We recommend that our turkeys are eaten chilled or at room temperature — just slice and enjoy!

If heating is required, follow these instructions: place turkey in a Reynolds® Oven Bag, which can be bought at your local grocer. Do not add flour to the bag. Cut 6 to 7 small slits in the top of the bag. Heat at 300 degrees for 6 minutes per pound.

That is some pretty generic information to be placed under copyright protection, in my view.

Source: 

————————————————- In Florida, a major tort action has been filed two years after a massacre at a Thanksgiving dinner where a six-year-old South Florida girl and three others were killed. The lawsuit alleges that Michael and Carole Merhige were negligent because they knew their son was planning to attend the Thanksgiving event, even though he was unstable and uninvited. It was filed by Muriel and Jim Sitton, and Antoine Joseph, whose wife was killed by Paul Merhige. The complaint alleges that his parents were aware of his violent propensity and did nothing to warn them that he would be attending their Thanksgiving dinner in 2009. It includes an alleged statement by his mother to her daughter that she hoped her son wouldn’t “come and kill us all” in advance of Thanksgiving.

There is also an intriguing claim that since Paul Merhige’s father was a former CIA agent and he had particular skills and training to prevent the massacre.

The case resembles the famous 1976 ruling in Tarasoff v. Regents of the University of California. and the imposition of liability on a university. See Tarasoff opinion. In that case, Prosinjit Podder, a graduate student at Berkeley, fell in love with Tatiana Tarasoff. When she stated that she wanted to date other men, Podder went to counseling at the University Health Service and is treated by psychologist, Dr. Lawrence Moore. When he told Moore that he wanted to get a gun and kill Tarasoff, Moore sent a letter to campus police who interviewed Podder and decided that he was not a risk. Podder then went ahead and murdered Tarasoff. Podder was found legally at fault.

Here the parents are being accused of failing to warn or act in light of Merhige’s history of emotion and mental problems. Adding to the alleged failure was the careful planning of their son who acquired 4 guns and ammunition, taking $12 thousand out of the bank, and buying a cover for his car that he used to hide it.

Source: CBS

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GEORGIA v. BARTELS AND MARSH (2010) Our winners for the worst Thanksgiving celebration last year was the dinner held at the Georgia home of Patty Jo Marsh and her husband, who decided that the best activity after Thanksgiving dinner was to give their seven children tattoos using a home-made tattoo device.

The parents borrowed a tattoo machine from a friend and used a needle made from guitar strings to give six of their seven children tattoos after Thanksgiving. The children range in age from 10-17. The ten year old was spared the experience.

The tattoos were spotted by their biological mother when they returned home (much like the earlier Fresno case). She was not pleased and called child welfare. In Georgia, it is illegal to give tattoos to children under 18 and it is illegal to give tattoos to anyone without a license.

The couple insists that they did not know it was illegal and only gave into the demands of the kids that they wanted small cross tattoos like their own.

They have been charged with cruelty to children, reckless conduct and tattooing without a license. They also could face a lawsuit from the biological mother since the children were too young to consent to tattoos and such tattooing of children is legal in most states. Absent legally recognized consent (as opposed to actual but invalid consent of a minor) the parents can be charged with battery. They cannot use substituted consent in such a circumstance for their children in most states.

________________________________________________________________________ SEILER v. JIMMY JOHN’S (2009) A tort action in Chicago presents a somewhat novel dispute over the proper way to eat a sandwich. Mackenzie Seiler went to Jimmy John’s restaurant for a Turkey Tom sandwich. He went into anaphylactic shock after he bite into the sandwich, which turned out to be tuna and filled with cheese and mayonnaise. A person with severe allergies, he had specifically told them to hold the cheese and mayo — let alone the tuna. However, the restaurant says it was his fault for failing to properly unwrap the sandwich before biting into it.

He is now seeking more than $50,000 from Jimmy John’s after going into shock.

Seiler’s attorney, Richard Egan, insists that his client ate the sandwich in a traditional way: by peeling back one end of the wrapped sandwich and eating it like “a burrito.”

Jimmy John’s says that his eating habits are contributory negligence and that he is responsible for his three days in the hospital. The restaurant insists that a reasonable person removes the sandwich from its wrapping, inspects it, and only then bites into it. (I also tend to weigh the sandwich on an atomic scale to confirm proper weigh and measure the sandwich to guarantee that it is properly proportioned . . . but that is just me).

Once again, I do not get why the restaurant wants to fight this one. How many jurors does the restaurant think actually unwrap a sandwich completely and do an inspection before chomping down? This fight occurred because the restaurant refused to pay his hospital costs.

I am particularly interested in the experts that will be called by either side in this dispute. The EU must have a rule on this. Of course, there may be some raw regionalism in the case with the restaurant accusing Seiler of eating “like a New Yorker.” I would suggest the sandwich truck guys and the guys at the Billy Goat Grill as obvious choices for experts on sandwich tactics and customs. Of course, as shown in the case of TJ Hooper, industry custom is not always controlling, so the court could articulate a new standard for sandwich consumption.

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FLORIDA v. SMITH (2009) Thanksgiving holidays are notorious for bringing out family stress and divisions, but know family does it quite like the Smiths of Hudson, Florida who ended up having Thanksgiving in jail over a disagreement involving the proper way to stuff a Turkey. Along the way the committed a variety of torts and crimes. Elizabeth Smith, 21, was shocked when she woke up at 7 a.m. on Thanksgiving Day to stuff her turkey — only to find that her father-in-law Donald “Junior” Smith, 49, had beat her to it. It was not how she wanted it stuffed and, to make matters worse, he used celery which her husband Tristan Smith, 21, is allergic to. A shouting match erupted.

Junior blamed Elizabeth as incompetent and said that no one was helping him cook. Elizabeth said that she wanted to cook but no one woke her. Tristan intervened in defense of his wife. It soon turned physical as the men rolled around the house and ended up in the room of Tristan’s 3-year-old son and 5-month-old daughter. Then Tristan’s mom, Joan Ethel Brewster, 54, grabbed Elizabeth by the hair and scratched her — pulling her hair out and causing bleeding on her face.

Joan called the police and she and Junior were arrested and booked . . . wait for it . . . at the Land O’Lakes Jail. They were held for Thanksgiving and had dinner in jail — presumably properly prepared by others. After the arrests, Elizabeth finished cooking the meal and held Thanksgiving for the remaining relatives. In the ultimate happy ending, she insisted that “[i]t still turned out all right.”

The result was both criminal and tort helpings of assault and battery.

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IN RE JEAN KASPER (2009)

Last year, we also had a curious product liability and negligence allegation. When Lisa Blair’s mother, Jean Kasper, died, she wanted to carry part of her mother with her. She consulted with a funeral home on the use of heart-shaped lockets for carrying the ashes. She filled identical lockets for her seven daughters and stepdaughters. She alleges that she dropped off the lockets to be sealed and tested by the funeral home.

At Thanksgiving dinner, Blair noticed that the mashed potatoes had small flecks in them, but continued to eat. After consuming most of the potatoes, she looked down and realize that her mother’s ashes had fallen into the mashed potatoes and that she had consumed them. She also discovered that the lockets on her daughters and stepdaughters had also leaked into their food.

Cresmount funeral home will not discuss the allegations. Blair could allege an assortment of torts from negligence to negligent infliction of emotional distress. If the funeral home represented that the lockets were sealed, it might be able to survive a motion to dismiss. There is also the possibility of a products claim. However, these lockets were not made for this purchase and this is not likely a case for foreseeable misuse against the manufacturer.

For the full story, click here. ———————————————————–

APONTE v. CASTOR 155 Ohio App. 3d 553 (2003)

Guests can bring potential liability for alleged attractive nuisances found during a Thanksgiving dinner. At least that is what Michael and Deborah Castor discovered. They invited their niece, Teresa Aponte and her daugher Erica (age 7) to share a Thanksgiving feast. According to the court, “[f]ollowing dinner, accompanied by her cousin, Erica went outside and crawled under/through an electric wire fence that enclosed appellees’ horse paddock area. Erica was subsequently kicked in the face by appellees’ horse, sustaining injury.”

The niece sued her uncle and aunt. The question was Erica’s status as trespasser or an invitee. The case also explored the meaning of an attractive nuisance.

The court held as follows:

In this case, it is undisputed that Erica was invited over for Thanksgiving dinner and that she did not obtain permission from appellees or any other adult to exit the house or visit the horse penned in the paddock. Moreover, it is uncontested that Erica was never permitted by appellees to roam freely in “any part of the subject property without both parental supervision and permission.” Upon a thorough review of the record, and finding no genuine issues of material fact, we find that Erica was only invited to appellees’ home for Thanksgiving dinner and was not invited to freely explore the property. Accordingly, we find that once Erica left the house and entered the horse paddock area, she exceeded the scope of appellees’ invitation and became a trespasser or a licensee on appellees’ property.

Normally, a landowner would only owe a trespasser or licensee the duty to refrain from wanton, willful or reckless conduct which is likely to injure the licensee or trespasser. . . .However, the Ohio Supreme Court has held that the amount of care required of a landowner to discharge a duty owed to a child of tender years, who is exposed to danger on the landowner’s property, is greater than that required to discharge a duty to an adult exposed to the same danger. Di Gildo v. Caponi (1969), 18 Ohio St. 2d 125, 47 Ohio Op. 2d 282, 247 N.E.2d 732, paragraph one of the syllabus; and Bennett v. Stanley (2001), 92 Ohio St.3d 35, 39, 2001 Ohio 128, 748 N.E.2d 41. The rationale for this rule is that HN7″‘Children of tender years, and youthful persons generally, are entitled to a degree of care proportioned to their inability to foresee and avoid the perils that they may encounter ***. The same discernment and foresight in discovering defects and dangers cannot be reasonably expected of them, that older and experienced persons habitually employ; and therefore, the greater precaution should be taken, where children are exposed to them.’” Di Gildo at 127, citing 39 Ohio Jurisprudence 2d 512, Negligence, Section 21. “Even child trespassers are accorded special protection in Ohio tort law.” Bennett, 92 Ohio St.3d at 40.

In recognizing that “children are entitled to a greater level of protection than adults,” the Ohio Supreme Court in Bennett adopted the attractive nuisance doctrine, contained in Restatement of the Law 2d, Torts (1965), Section 339 . Bennett set forth the attractive nuisance doctrine as follows:

“A possessor of land is subject to liability for physical harm to children trespassing thereon caused by an artificial condition upon the land if:

“(a) the place where the condition exists is one upon which the possessor knows or has reason to know that children are likely to trespass, and

“(b) the condition is one of which the possessor knows or has reason to know and which he realizes or should realize will involve an unreasonable risk of death or serious bodily harm to such children, and

“(c) the children because of their youth do not discover the condition or realize the risk involved in intermeddling with it or in coming within the area made dangerous by it, and

“(d) the utility to the possessor of maintaining the condition and the burden of eliminating the danger are slight as compared with the risk to children involved, and

“(e) the possessor fails to exercise reasonable care to eliminate the danger or to otherwise protect the children.”

In determining a landowner’s duty to a child, Bennett held that “whether an apparatus or a condition of property is involved, the key element should be whether there is a foreseeable, ‘unreasonable risk of death or serious bodily harm to *** children.’” Id. at 42, citing Restatement, Section 339(b). However, “even when a landowner is found to have an attractive nuisance on his or her land, the landowner is left merely with the burden of acting with ordinary care” and “does not automatically become liable for any injury a child trespasser may suffer on that land.” Id.

. . . Appellant argues that appellees’ horse created an attractive nuisance and, as such, appellees owed Erica the duty of ordinary care. We, however, find no authority in Ohio law which establishes that an animal is “an artificial condition” which invokes the doctrine of attractive nuisance. Accordingly, we find that the attractive nuisance doctrine is not applicable in this case. Nevertheless, based upon the holdings and rationale in Bennett and Di Gildo, we find that “children of tender years, and youthful persons” are generally entitled to a degree of care commensurate with their inability to foresee and avoid dangers, even when trespassing.

In considering whether appellees breached their duty to Erica, we must first consider whether it was foreseeable to appellees that Erica would trespass into the horse paddock area while on their property. Appellant argues that it was foreseeable that Erica, a child guest at Thanksgiving dinner, would wander out to the horse paddock. We, however, find that the undisputed evidence is to the contrary.

First, neither on the day in question, nor during earlier visits, was Erica ever given unfettered access to appellees’ property; rather, permission and adult supervision was required. Second, at no time was any child guest allowed “to roam freely around the subject property or enter the area in or around the horse paddock area.” Third, according to Mr. Castor, on previous visits to the property, Erica “never unilaterally left the house or entered the area in or around the horse paddock area.” Fourth, the horse was enclosed with an electrified wire fence, which, according to Erica, she was warned to avoid. Based on these undisputed facts, we find that it was not foreseeable to appellees that Erica would trespass upon their property into the area of the horse paddock.

Assuming arguendo that a genuine issue of material fact exists regarding whether it was foreseeable to appellees that Erica would trespass into the horse paddock, we note that the degree of care owed by appellees only would have to be proportionate to Erica’s inability to foresee and avoid the perils that she may encounter and, in no event, would appellees’ duty to Erica extend to dangerous conditions that were obvious and realized by her. See Bennett, supra at 43.

In this case, it is clear that Erica had an appreciation that horses presented a risk to her. Erica testified that she had been told “never to go behind a horse”; she knew that she was not allowed to be around horses, appellees’ horse, or in the corral, without a parent or adult supervision; and that, although she did not remember anyone ever telling her specifically not to go into the corral, she was “pretty sure that *** [appellees] thought that [she] had the common sense not to go there” and that “they knew that if [she] were going to that [she] would ask for an adult to come with [her].”

Appellant, however, argues that appellees should have warned Erica and her parents regarding this horse’s history of aggressive behavior toward a sheep that entered its enclosure. However, based on Erica’s own testimony, we find that she knew horses presented a risk, that she was not to go near the electric fence, and that an adult was supposed to accompany her around horses. Accordingly, we find that the potential danger any horse posed to Erica was both known and obvious to her. We therefore find that appellees owed no duty to Erica or her parents to provide additional warnings regarding this horse in particular.

Based on the foregoing, we find that there are no genuine issues of material fact and that appellees are entitled to summary judgment as a matter of law. Erica was a trespasser on appellees’ property and, therefore, appellees were only required to refrain from willful, wanton and reckless conduct. However, to the extent that Erica’s age would entitle her to a greater degree of care than that normally afforded a trespasser, we find that appellees breached no duty to Erica insofar as she fully realized the obvious risk that horses presented, and proceeded at her own peril. Accordingly, we find appellant’s first and second assignments of error not well-taken.

On consideration whereof, the court finds substantial justice has been done the party complaining and the judgment of the Williams County Court of Common Pleas is affirmed. Appellant is ordered to pay the court costs of this appeal.

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DENNIS V. DENNIS 2001 Del. Super. LEXIS 11 (2001)

The Dennis case shows why a good lawyer requires relatives to sign waiver forms before the start of any holiday. Here are the facts from the case:

FACTS

On November 16, 1998, Plaintiff [*2] Crystal Dennis (“Crystal”) and her thirteen-month-old son, Velvin Morgan, Jr. (“Velvin”)(collectively, the “Plaintiffs”) went to the home of Mr. Dennis, who is Crystal’s father and Velvin’s grandfather. Defendant Stephanie Dennis (“Stephanie”), who is Crystal’s sister, was also present at her father’s home. The sisters had gathered at Mr. Dennis’s residence in order to clean it for Thanksgiving dinner. While the daughters were cleaning, Mr. Dennis babysat Velvin. While all three adults and Velvin were in the kitchen prior to eating breakfast, Stephanie warmed water in the microwave for hot tea. She took the cup out of the microwave and placed it on the counter. Velvin, who was sitting on his grandfather’s lap, got up and walked over to the counter, reached up and poured the scolding water on himself. As a result, he sustained first and second degree burns on his neck and chest. The Plaintiffs filed suit against Mr. Dennis and Stephanie (collectively the “Defendants”), alleging that the Defendants’ negligence was the proximate cause of Velvin’s injuries.

The issue was whether the daughters could claim to be business invitees in coming their father’s house — in order to get around the state’s Guest Statute. The Delaware Guest Statute, 25 Del. C. § 1501, provides:

No person who enters onto private residential or farm premises owned or occupied by another person, either as a guest without payment or as a trespasser, shall have a cause of action against the owner or occupier of such premises for any injuries or damages sustained by such person while on the premises unless such accident was intentional on the part of the owner or occupier or was caused [*4] by the wilful or wanton disregard of the rights of others.

The daughters, however, claimed that “since Crystal would have been unable to perform the cleaning [*6] services for her father unless she could bring Velvin with her and have Mr. Dennis babysit him, he has received a benefit. Further, the Plaintiffs assert that Crystal was a business invitee 10 and that status should be imputed onto Velvin.”

Outcome: The Court was not convinced and found the lawsuit against the father to be properly dismissed.

————————————————————- SAMSON v. REISING 62 Wis. 2d 698 (1974)

The underlying facts show that on Tuesday, February 6, 1968, Pearl Samson attended a luncheon, which was put on by the Wauwatosa High School Band Mothers Association (an organization organized to give support to the high school band) at the Wauwatosa Trinity Episcopal Church. Pearl Samson paid $ 1.25 and ate a luncheon consisting of turkey salad and dessert. On Wednesday evening she became nauseated. She was unable to work on Thursday and Friday.

The symptoms subsided, and she returned to work on Monday, February 12th. A few days later, however, she again was obliged to miss work because of her illness. After these symptoms recurred every few days, she visited her doctor, who was unable to help her, and in the nine-month period following the luncheon she lost 22 pounds and periodically suffered from diarrhea, vomiting, cramps, and stomach pain. Eventually she was referred to a specialist, who determined that Pearl Samson’s condition was the result of salmonella food poisoning and that, as a consequence, she suffered a deficiency of the lactase enzyme in her intestinal tract.

This enzyme is necessary to properly digest foods with a lactose base, such as milk and dairy products. She claims that her illness recurs whenever she ingests foods which contain milk products. There was testimony that she found it impossible to be sure that the food she ate contained no such products and that she became severely ill sometimes twice a month. Her physician testified that this condition is permanent.

There is evidence that the turkey salad eaten at the luncheon was contaminated with salmonella bacteria. Dorothy G. Wood, one of the defendants, testified that she had taken some of the leftover salad home for her family to eat. Her family ate some of that salad and had no ill effects. When she received reports that some of the guests at the luncheon had become ill, she notified the chief sanitarian of the Wauwatosa Health Department. He submitted the sample of the remaining salad to the Milwaukee Food Laboratory. The report from the laboratory indicated the presence of the salmonella bacteria.

There was testimony by Dorothy G. Wood that she and Marjorie E. Borror were co-chairmen in charge of the luncheon, that approximately a month before the luncheon they purchased nine frozen turkeys from Kohl’s and had them stored in Kohl’s freezer until they were needed. Before the date of the luncheon, Dorothy Wood picked up the frozen turkeys and delivered them to other members of the luncheon committee. She named eight members of the committee to whom she delivered the turkeys to be cooked in their own homes. She stated that she delivered the turkeys to Margarette H. Hoffman, Charlotte G. Soleski, Violet E. Gullicksen, Betty Randa, Grace A. Kerler, Marjorie E. Borror, Ruth E. Johnson, Jane Frances, and one other. Each of these persons are defendants in the instant lawsuit. In addition, Audrey Riesing and Phillis Gill, together with Dorothy Wood, are named as defendants.

Dorothy Wood stated that she did not cook a turkey, but that nine ladies, one of whom she could not name, cooked them sometime between the day she delivered the turkeys and the afternoon of February 5, 1968, when the ladies brought the cooked turkeys to the Trinity Episcopal Church kitchen. The turkey salad was prepared in the Trinity Episcopal Church kitchen.

After the salad was prepared, it was taken to a refrigerator located at the Methodist Church. The turkey salad was returned to the Trinity Episcopal Church at 10 a. m. on Tuesday, February 6th. The salad received no refrigeration from the time it was taken from the Methodist Church. Prior to the time of serving, the turkey salad was held in large containers, which had been obtained from the Methodist Church. Dorothy Wood testified that the church kitchen in which the salad was prepared was “clean.”

At trial, Joseph D. Gorski, the chief sanitarian for the Wauwatosa Health Department, testified that salmonella is a bacteria common to the intestinal tracts of fowl. He said that food containing salmonella bacteria can be rendered safe for eating by exposure to heat and that a meat temperature of 146 degrees Fahrenheit for thirty minutes or 161 degrees for thirty seconds would kill the organism. Properly cooking a turkey would render it free from salmonella bacteria.

However, even though a turkey were properly cooked, it could be contaminated if it came in contact with utensils or other objects which touched the raw contaminated turkey. Gary V. Doern, a bacteriologist, also testified that some individuals are unknowing carriers of the salmonella bacteria and can contaminate food products by touching them.

. . . In this case nine turkeys were cooked, each by one of nine defendants, but not all of the 11 defendants cooked the turkeys. It does appear, however, that all of them participated in the preparation of the salad.

Outcome: This case ultimately turned on the court’s interpretation of the doctrine of res ipsa loquitur used to prove such cases with a paucity of proof. The doctrine requires “(1) The event or accident in question be of the kind which does not ordinarily occur in the absence of someone’s negligence; and (2) the agency or instrumentality causing the harm must have been within the exclusive control of the defendant.”

The court found that first criteria satisfied but ruled that it failed on the second criteria of exclusive control. They could not prove which of the band mother’s Turkeys was the culprit so all of the band mothers walked.

Jonathan Turley

Turkey Torts (2019) published first on https://immigrationlawyerto.tumblr.com/