#i also have it in a relatively easy to reach spot. for situations like this i guess 😋

[orcelito]

Dream power struggles r more fun when they don't feel so realistic and bloody lol

[knackfandomarchive]

could i ask for some lucas headcanons bc all of the ones you've posted so far are really cute lmao (he is my son)

Oh Bestie, you sweet-talker, you!

Umm... I'm so sorry; I had already talked about most of these before; I don't have much and only have like 15k words of prose across all my documents. I'm bringing these ideas up again mainly for context and in case some readers haven't seen them yet. This is sort of like an overview for the first segment of my story, and also some brief character analyses of certain scenes. I'm also not sure what would spoil my story or not.

I forgot how English works (and it's my only language).

Also this is depressing AF... I tried to put all the doom and gloom into this first part, so if anyone reading this wants to skip to the part that says, "I avoid giving Lucas any diagnosis..." then be my guest. It's. Half the post, tho.

And I'll post the art separately tomorrow, so people won't have to read the depressing stuff to see it.

With that, I can shakily point to a few foundational scenes I over-analyzed. Especially this one:

Where to start...

As we may recall in the first game, the Doctor complains to Ryder that it was easier to take care of Lucas when he was younger, and, "now he wants to know How and Why and debate everything. It's really quite trying at times."

This just sounds like puberty to me. Dad agreed; the Doctor probably received Lucas at a young, easy-to-please age and got used to that lifestyle. But as Lucas grew older, taking more independence, and forming his own opinions - normal development stuff - this resulted in conflict - the form of which I'm still unsure of.

So, I have Lucas lose his mom around eight years old. It's that vulnerable spot where he's old enough to remember her well, and young enough that he has little in the way of coping mechanisms. And while puberty is right around the corner, it gives the Doctor some time to know him before then.

Another thing to add, my Dad mentioned something Lucas said while reaching for his locket:

We're taking a literal approach to this. Not only is this device the last thing he has left of his mother, it's also the only thing he has left of his old life; all of his belongings had been destroyed or lost. We discussed possible causes, and I prefer something horrible and yet mundane. Not super newsworthy outside of his hometown. A fire, maybe?

Lucas needed a new home. And his father was never mentioned, which could mean anything (I haven't gotten around to that). In any case, they were not in the picture by this time. Next of kin would be Ryder or other family members.

We can recall Ryder in a later scene asking if Lucas wonders why the Doctor takes care of him, rather than Ryder doing so. Ryder explains his own unavailability as being very busy. I take this to mean two-fold: he was the only alternative when it came to raising Lucas, and it wasn't due to his capability to parent. So, if Lucas had other blood relatives, they never stepped up. Naturally, this results in Lucas feeling unwanted.

So many characters I need to get right... Lucas lost his mom, and Ryder lost his sister. Ryder may have thought himself and his life situation too unstable. Like he couldn't afford the responsibility on top of the grief and whatever else he had going on. Lucas stays with him for only as long as it takes to arrange a plan with the Doctor. I think Ryder might have some mental troubles of his own that would make raising a child difficult. But the Doctor isn't much better on that front.

Doctor Vargas seems to have had a lingering emotional wound since Charlotte disappeared, and based on vibes was likely a lonely, somewhat reserved man. But his living situation is the most stable, and he has kept it together for so long. And if he ever imagined having children, this would fill that need. So the arrangement - as my Dad suggested, and as I will have Ryder suggest - is a two birds, one stone kind of deal. The hope is that Doc and Lucas would help each other get better, and not worse.

Lucas is taken to the Doctor's Mansion, where Ryder will say goodbye. I have Ryder keep a stoic demeanor; he's trying to stay strong for Lucas. Even holding his breath to keep it from shuddering when they hug. But Lucas really could have benefitted from a more vulnerable moment with him, instead. Ryder is the one who gives Lucas the locket as a parting gift. Lucas begs him not to go, but Ryder can only say he's sorry.

I don't know the boy's educational situation exactly, but after that, his grades drop, he becomes more withdrawn, and his friends, if he has any, don't know how to help him. What are the chances they're mainly fair-weather friends, who go play with someone else when Lucas starts being a bummer? At least I haven't invented bullies to harass him on top of this. Actually, there's a chance that Lucas would be the bully, but I haven't decided.

Have I mentioned Lucas crying at night? He can just about gloomily keep it together during the day, but at night, when he's alone with his thoughts, he falls apart, and his crying soon wakes up the Doctor. Losing his mother and then feeling abandoned by his uncle and other relatives, it's a major blow to the self-esteem. And when his whole world is turned upside down in one fell swoop, it leaves him with a peculiar feeling.

Here is where I point out the next aspect:

Right here, this could have been the end of Lucas. And the Doctor can only watch him go. If I look at it from a more thematic view, Lucas's loss is so devastating to him that he'll clutch the memory of his mother and what he had before she died, at the expense of living himself.

So we have a semi-suicidal eight-year-old living with an older scientist and anyone else who lives in the same building. Scientists and their families from all over the world! I still don't know how the Doctor is going to take care of him. Lucas when he's older is grateful to the Doctor for taking him in, but doesn't seem to me to think of him as a father figure (but perhaps I just forgot something). And my grasp on the Doctor's character is extremely flimsy, despite him virtually being the protagonist of the first game.

I'm not sure how familiar Lucas is with Doctor Vargas. The boy's mom was a colleague, and Ryder trusts the Doctor a great deal, so at least they're not strangers. But Little Lucas might not have paid much attention to the Doctor. Maybe they played peek-a-boo a time or two. I can imagine a dark-haired toddler running under tables at company picnics or something. Doc might have showed him a couple neat gadgets or gifted him some. I dunno yet. What could be the KNACK-equivalent of a Game Boy?

During Lucas's crying spells, I kind of have the Doctor treat him like he's physically sick. Hold him while he cries, put a hand on his shoulder while he throws up, that sort of thing. Uhh, soup - in a big ol' thermos. Gotta stay hydrated and replenish those electrolytes.

Lucas crying and the Doctor consoling him is a regular occurrence for maybe a week or two, and the Doctor can't hide his exhaustion well. Still working out the details, but essentially Lucas doesn't really stop crying after that, he's just quieter about it and lies about it and Doctor Vargas doesn't press the issue. But the Doctor does worry. Lucas seems exhausted all the time, and when he's not hunched over and listless, or politely playing along with whatever to satisfy the grown-ups, he's throwing tantrums about the pointlessness of homework and anything else he doesn't want to do. I made that up. Sometimes he does still find joy in some things, and while it's temporary, it gives Doctor Vargas some hope.

The Doctor's thoughts, as they often do, turn to Charlotte, and how he felt after losing her. And what happened on that fateful day.

Lucas has a well-known love of puzzles. Because I want him to. And especially puzzles in video games. And what is science but a series of puzzles?

Before his mother's passing, I imagine Lucas enjoyed school and gained some reputation among his peers for being a nerdy kid and very smart. Naturally this would result in some peers getting close to him to improve their academic metrics or because they have similar interests. Maybe he has an interest in - the foundational stuff a seven-to-eight-year-old learns about - physics. I imagine he found his mommy's work very interesting and would ask her a lot of questions, sometimes rehashing the same ideas again and again (as my sibling did when they were little).

After she's gone, he still loves puzzles, but much like anything else, the experience of playing with them is tinged with regret. At the Doctor's place, I'm sure there are some other children and young folk living there, too, but I don't know how Lucas feels about them. I have to make so many characters...

I think Lucas would piece together some jigsaw puzzles in the lounge areas. And also slurp up much of the hot cocoa during winter time, but I digress.

Hmm. I need him to accumulate a small collection of toys, but I'm not sure yet who gives them to him and when. If he receives them all too soon and from strangers (scientists who find him endearing), he might feel sour about being pitied. At the same time, if he had a lot of toys before the fire, he'll sure miss their absence. Anyway, some things like: a small chess set, from which he'll lose some pieces, sidewalk chalk, a new gaming device with Tetris and a few other games on it, jump rope, a skateboard (actually a longboard), a Rubik's Cube, and some plushies. I want him to get the device and a plushy or two fairly quickly.

He mainly plays with the gaming device, and while it fills time and is entertaining, it does not fill the void. Still, the Doctor taps his shoulder one day.

"So. I heard you like puzzles?" Said more like a statement than a question.

Lucas doesn't fully understand the situation at first, on the order of a few hours or a day or so, when the Doctor shows him the orb. Doc tries to have a heart-to-heart moment with Lucas, but what the Doctor *says* reads like Chekhov's plasma cannon and I don't have the 'payoff' for that lined up, so I might change it.

But once it clicks for Lucas, it's like a switch is flipped. He smiles more and starts getting genuinely excited about things again. It helps that I had a pipe-dream of making Knack's puzzle a mini-game, so Lucas finds it fun. I'll want to add more to it, probably, depending on how I interpret Knack. I also have a headcanon that Knack's orb resembles a plasma globe in some tactile characteristic; Lucas likes to touch or hold it at every opportunity because it vaguely feels like something is going on in there. It's just so cool! The Doctor may or may not appreciate the novelty.

So it's like, Knack provides Lucas an opportunity to climb to his feet again. More indirectly than the screenshot, though.

I apparently got someone's game-play video confused for a trailer, and misinterpreted the YouTuber's voice as Lucas's voice, so one version of this post mentioned Knack having an incidental role of 'guardian' to Lucas. I still might want to play with that, though.

Anyway, if you're curious as to why Lucas finds the orb so much more satisfying than other puzzles, it's because of the angst. I had initially intended for Lucas to work on the project as something to distract him, much like any other puzzle, give him something to look forward to, and help him bond with Doctor Vargas. The Doctor himself hopes it can help the both of them move on from their losses, and hopes it can help him teach Lucas a thing or two.

But, somehow surprising even to me, Lucas seems to have taken it upon himself to solve this particular puzzle as a measure of value. If he can play a big part in solving it, and contribute to a grown-up scientific achievement, then he's worth all the trouble, right? Then he'll actually amount to something and be worth loving.

... I'm not sure what to say next except that I want to bonk him on the head with a paper towel roll and tell him he's being silly. And then give him a big hug.

At least he lets himself be happy again. In fact, his educational situation might flip from being too aloof to being too distracted. Doodling odd symbols in the margins of his homework and tapping his feet when he should be studying.

He still cries at night sometimes, though. Umm... trying to rack my brain here...

I avoid giving Lucas any diagnosis. Is this a bad idea? Would it be preferred I name his issues, and do research on them?

I kinda just make stuff up.

Okay, switching gears now. This part is more scattered because I don't know how to string the ideas together.

I think I mentioned the Doctor taking Lucas to places like museums and carnivals and aquariums.

Lucas might be prone to jealousy, at least when he is young, and becomes slightly possessive over the orb. This doesn't come up much beyond pressing his lips together, avoiding eye contact, and nursing a bitter feeling when the Doctor improves some experimental hardware without Lucas's prior knowledge. Lucas wonders if the Doctor had continued solving parts without him. Not sure if I should drop it.

Lucas is about ten years old by the time Knack is Manifested. I picked ten years old just 'cause that's about two years of working on the puzzle, enough time to build that machine. I don't want it to take too long or short because the puzzle I'm going with currently makes the Doctor look a bit stupid.

I have Lucas as twelve years old when the first game starts, because that's about middle-school age where the puberty does the things. And about 16 or so in the sequel, trying to balance the moved-out thing with the uncharacteristically immature behavior.

Also because Ava seems about 16 and Dad said that number makes sense for her role as a youth leader, and Ava and Lucas seem like peers. Man, they really flopped on the framing for the scene in this shot! I can hardly see Lucas at all with low brightness. Maybe it's different when you play it yourself.

Dad also told me something that I interpreted to mean most media is really bad at establishing ages. So I'm not sure what to do with that.

Anyway, ten years old.

I'm still not sure how, after the excitement of success subsides, Lucas will initially react to the creature made of stone. His reaction will probably depend on his background. Early drafts have him fed fairy tales that paint goblins unfavorably. And since the creature resembles a goblin in some aspects, Lucas freaks himself out or intimidates the little guy. But these drafts felt silly or off, because the creature is all smiles when he wakes up, and we know he's friendly. Also the Doctor just stands there. So I'll come up with something else, probably.

Regarding Knack's relationship with Lucas: When I see other people describe their relationship as sibling-like (a headcanon), they tend to position Knack as the elder. I may need to double-check; the fandom is pretty small and I haven't read much of the fanfictions. Another headcanon I saw a couple times is that Knack had been alive/conscious a long, long time ago.

But recently someone told me they interpret Lucas as the elder!

My interpretation is that Lucas steps up to that particular plate, first.

My idea goes: before anyone knows for sure that Knack's creature type also includes being a person, Lucas treats him a bit like a toddler and a pet, himself acting as the older brother and sorta babysitter. Still trying to decide if Knack knows he is a person at this stage... It seems like in both games, Lucas tends to talk to him like he's giving him a tutorial.

So I gotta figure out how the Doctor, Lucas, and some other folks turn a sweet little bean into the Knack we all know and love. And how Knack and the Doctor etc, do the same with Lucas.

Lucas is so silly!

I know you saw the one about the first night, Bestie [D;? but I'm not sure how to explain it concisely here. A lot of these I feel would be best shown in a comic series.

There is very much a theme of reciprocation in my story. That might be the wrong word. I'm thinking of familial affection. Lucas just doesn't get enough, and so, doing unto others as he would want to be treated, offers attention to Knack. What to list as examples... Reading him stories, nuzzling, very simple dancing. Probably more but I am my brain is made of Swiss cheese.

I did mention Knack being a sleepy baby on here at first, but I don't think I mentioned that Lucas worries if he's dying or something. It's like if you brought home a baby creature, but had no idea what it eats or needs to live, and then it acts groggier and less responsive, and can barely hold its head up... The Doctor kind of scoffs and says it's highly unlikely (not in a mean way), possibly thinking of Knack more like a device. But even if the Doctor is confident, Lucas isn't convinced. And Baby Knack doesn't know how to ask for what he needs, so he kind of furrows his brow and squints and makes little grumbling noises and like. I'm not sure how to describe it. It's like he kneads invisible dough or something? And he frequently glances up at Lucas or the Doctor.

Lucas tries really hard to not-cry and seem reasonable, but he can't help reaching out to pet the little guy's head. The creature responds very favorably, still sleepy. Leading Lucas to bring him into a hug, possibly picking him up. The creature is soothed by this, and after wrapping his arms around Lucas, he promptly falls asleep. Or something idk. Everything is a work in progress.

Knack occupies a weird role at first, and even later on occasion: something sort of like a pet, but not quite. Lucas is primarily the one who initiates the interactions like that, but sometimes the Doctor does as well. Knack himself does not understand until later.

I know it's silly to have Lucas pet him. He's basically a rock, even if he reminds me of a teddy bear sometimes. But look at that face! Lucas can feel warm and fuzzy just knowing that his little puzzle buddy likes him.

I also have Lucas very interested in Knack as a person, like how he's feeling and what he thinks. I think it would be funny if he gets good at reading Knack's body language, but not so good at interpreting his words sometimes. I'm kind of throwing out that scene in 2 where Knack gives Lucas an odd look for presuming what he's thinking and framing it as a 'talk'; if Lucas paid any attention to Knack, he would have done something like that a long time ago. And so I have him *do*: Early on, Lucas talks to the Doctor for Knack, like an untrained interpreter. And sometimes even airs his own grievances as if Knack is 'saying' so.

I mean, I *guess* I could have Lucas be oblivious to Knack's emotional situation unless it suits him, but then like. I dunno. That doesn't fit the little guy I made up so far. What feels more like Lucas?

Lucas sometimes imitates Knack's mannerisms and vice versa. Also expect recycled dialogue. I think Lucas vicariously experiences some adventure through Knack.

I still think Lucas gets swole by playing with Knack all the time.

Later, Knack and Lucas switch big-brother-little-brother roles based on the scene.

(I got this screenie from MoeePlays. The rest of the unwatermarked ones are from FullPlaythroughs.)

You may also see Knack playing the big-brother role while being Little Knack, if I can communicate that well enough. I think it's interesting. And the reverse.

Dad compared the way I describe Knack to Lennie Smalls in "Of Mice and Men", and suggested Lucas could be made somewhat like George. I must say, I hadn't read that story before then. So that was a wild ride! Now George, he's kind of prickly, which Lucas seems to be in the second game, but I'm a little hesitant. Dad also mentioned something about George's dream, and maybe Lucas could have something like that. I think I know what he means, and it's probably a reason I feel stuck in the 'ending' I had written; the dream feels impossible.

Jumping around again; if you were to talk to Lucas about Knack, and Knack was nowhere to be seen, Lucas would probably think of him as Little Knack. I looked too far into Lucas calling Knack "little buddy" at the start, and couldn't remember if Lucas called him something different later. I also interpreted this to mean Knack often hangs out with Lucas as Little Knack, which is supported by a brief shot or two in 1, and the title screen of 2.

Lucas considers Knack to be his achievement on some level. In fact, I consider this to be what he was alluding to in the museum in 2; that "without me, the Doctor would never have known-" how to bring Knack to life. I can imagine a young Lucas, when people are told that the Doctor had solved the puzzle and created Knack, saying quietly or thinking to himself, "*I* made this."

He goes back on that idea later. For Reasons. I might change that also, though. Then again, if I change the story every time I get caught and scraped up in a prickly patch, I wouldn't have much of a story anymore. I wouldn't necessarily say Lucas is naive. He's pretty smart and can sometimes pick up on things, but he can be willfully ignorant. If that doesn't make sense out of context, don't worry.

Changing the subject, Lucas kick-starts Knack's mischievous streak. He kind of teases him? Best example is the GIF I wanted to make but turned into a slideshow. In the garden, Lucas growls in jest at a Little Baby Knack, who reacts ferociously and growls back with rough red lettering, lifting his paws a bit and shifting his weight from foot to foot. Lucas laughs, delighted, and Baby Knack's expression shifts a little into amusement, before the GIF loops and they return to growling.

To clarify, Knack is playing, here. Although it does take him a few moments of fleeing and fawning to realize Oh, you're threatening me as a joke. Two can play at that game! Eventually, Lucas feels that Knack is acting too aggressive for his comfort, and, failing to notice that Knack is mirroring his own body language, worries he'll get a good punch to the gut. Or worse. He tries to de-escalate with the offer of a hug, which allows Baby Knack to play a mean prank.

And at one point I want Lucas to try smuggling Knack to school for the express purpose of scaring the crap out of Lucas's peers. For fun!

Another thing about how I wrote Lucas is that, when he is younger, at least, he isn't all that shy with Knack after like a day or so. I'm not sure how to say what I mean... It's like, Lucas has a tendency to get excited and touch, lightly pull, or grab Knack's arm(s), to get his attention, turn him around, or drag him somewhere. It's also a means of affection. He's gentle about it, but still. He isn't usually so grabby with other kids.

One of the things I considered playing with Knack is whether he might bite a family member when he is a 'baby'. But the more I think about it, the more the answer resounds no, he wouldn't. In one scene I wrote, Knack makes a non-lingual, idle threat (growling at him), but Lucas calls his bluff and takes something from him anyway. Lucas actually scoffs at him, incredulous.

Do not look to Lucas for guidance on how to treat children, animals, or operate heavy machinery.

Umm, what else. I bet Lucas would pass out if someone strokes his hair. First thing that comes to mind is Charlotte experimentally trying motherly things, feeling awkward about it and stopping. Lucas murmers something like, "You can keep going :)" Realizes what he just said, "I mean, if *you* want to," and scratches the back of his neck and looks away.

Along with a grappling hook (or maybe the Doctor gave him that), Ryder gives Lucas a butterfly knife for his twelfth birthday. This sounds very familiar to me, so either I thought about it before, it's practically canon, or someone else had mentioned it and I just can't remember. Or it could be a regular pocket knife.

At some point, to someone else, I have Doc describe Lucas as becoming more responsible since Knack came into his life. But of course, since the Doctor can never let Lucas have anything, he amends it with, "at times."

I also have this screenshot:

What was I going to put down for it...?

I remember seeing a review where someone mentioned this scene, gave an extremely reductive summary of it, and they thought "It plays out like a parody of kids movie/game “you-can-do-itism” but it’s not parodying anything in particular." I was rather miffed about that, to say the least; I thought this scene was a major characterization moment.

Lucas is curious/a scientist.

Knack puts so much faith in the Doctor that he limits himself. He also comes off like a major teacher's pet with his quoting ability.

The Doctor thinks himself so smart like he knows everything without testing it thoroughly. To the point where he has told Knack that he is incapable of something.

Lucas encourages Knack to try new things.

Not sure how to put this, but it comes up again in the Key Confrontation. Could be related to 4. Lucas is skeptical of the Doctor's authority and offers an opposing viewpoint. He prompts Knack to stop viewing the Doctor's words as gospel, at least temporarily. This is why I want Lucas and the Doctor to be/become foils in my story. Lucas sees himself in Knack.

Knack believes in the Doctor, sure. But he also trusts and believes in Lucas.

And one last thing, because I can't escape upsetting topics: there may be some parental favoritism going on between the Doctor and the boys. I loathe the idea, but it slots into my current framework with unfortunate agreement. I had a conversation with Dad about it, and he said, uhh trying to remember... it's a reasonable idea. He spoke of Lucas coming into his own and how it challenges the Doctor's ego, meanwhile Knack does whatever the Doctor says without question.

I don't think Lucas would resent or blame the Doctor's Greatest Creation, but it would impact his self-esteem. I don't know what that looks like yet.

Umm, I hope this was worth the wait; I had a lot of fun! I want to add more but I'm kind of scatter-brained. Also this is 4.6k words apparently.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

The other day I made a post about the whole Robert Webb transphobia thing, and how that just sucks and it’s disappointing that the people who make cool stuff can’t just reach a basic minimum of decency so we can all keep enjoying their cool stuff (obviously, that is not the biggest negative consequence of Robert Webb perpetuating transphobic disinformation). It’s not the absolute worst example of shit people in comedy, but it just sucks. It’s not Jim Davidson. Or Russell Brand. Or Graham Linehan. And Graham Linehan brings me to the subject of this post.

If anyone wants an antidote to things that suck to any of those degrees, I’ve just listened to Michael Legge’s Halloween EP, available on Bandcamp for an eminently reasonable price (in, I like to remind people as often as I can that Bandcamp is good like this, a system where the money actually ends up where you want it to).

The main draw is this 20-minute thing called Grim Night, a spot-on parody of podcast by a failing, once-successful man who’s gotten so caught up in transphobic rhetoric that he can’t see sense anymore. It starts out as that, close enough to the bone to make me say “Wow, Michael, you’re really not messing around here, just barely keeping it general enough so you can say it doesn’t technically make it explicitly clear that it’s sending up one specific person.” But as it went along, that did get more and more explicitly clear, which I enjoyed every time. Mentions of losing friends and losing a wife and losing a career and losing respect in his industry and getting banned from Twitter and making friends with Jim Davidson on GB News and being a dick to Deborah Francis-White. Really… really doesn’t leave much room for speculation about who that is. Also he named the character “Grim Night”, the word “Grim” sounding even more like “Graham” in Michael Legge’s accent than it does in mine.

Graham Linehan is a relatively easy target, I guess, if you’re a comedian who’s not averse to starting shit within your own industry, which Michael Legge I believe isn’t, though I’m pretty sure by 2022 (when this came out) Graham Linehan was sufficiently blackballed by the comedy industry so that calling him out doesn’t really count as starting shit within the industry anyway. Honestly, I’d been meaning to listen to this for a while because I thought it would be entertaining, but I hadn’t gotten around to it until now because I didn’t expect it to be groundbreaking or anything. Left-wing comedian talks shit about Graham Linehan. Amusing thing to listen to, worthwhile thing to do (Robert Webb is an example of how we can’t just assume all comedians are on the right side of this, it definitely helps if they let us know), does take a bit of courage given Linehan’s tendency to sic his horrifying followers on anyone who criticizes him, but not exactly a new or shocking idea.

So I have to say, it was a lot better than I’d expected. It was really, really well put together. It made me laugh out loud an impressive number of times for something just under 20 minutes. Also, impressively for anything that short, it got some genuine emotion in there. Builds to a crescendo where Michael Legge actually makes an effort to capture a sense of the depth of desperation that would come with sinking to that level. Goes over the top enough to be funny, but not so far over the top that it stops feeling like this level of emotional desolation is accurate to the situation. I guess the real Graham Linehan helped Legge out with that, by being so over-the-top that you can take a parody of it pretty fucking far without it seeming surreal or inaccurate.

By the end, you can feel the absolute bleakness of Linehan’s situation (so harrowing that there’s almost an invocation of pathos, I found myself right on the edge of sympathy for Graham Linehan before I remembered just how deeply undeserving of sympathy he is, which I think is the effect Michael Legge was going for), but there’s also an emotional resonance in Michael Legge’s own anger. Because it starts out as feeling similar to his comedy anger that he’d have about loud people on a train or whatever, and by the end you can feel every bit of his genuine fury and sense of betrayal, at seeing what happened to a guy he’d clearly once looked up to, who’d horrifically let everyone down on behalf of some groups that Michael Legge is part of: people in the comedy industry, Irish comedians, people who’ve met and liked various Serafinowiczes. I’ve seen David O’Doherty talk about it too (you’ll be pleased to know that his view on Graham Linehan is: anti), and I’ve gotten a similar sense from him that there’s an extra feeling of betrayal from an Irish comedian. I realize Northern Ireland and Republic of Ireland are different things, but Michael Legge drops enough references to Linehan being Irish for me to think there’s something similar there.

...I also realize I'm projecting here, and maybe imagining intentions that weren't there. I am absolutely projecting my own special, extra level of rage that I feel about people who do their horrible things while engaged in things I also do, or being part of some group with which I identify. It's an infuriating feeling of betrayal by your own.

Anyway, I think this post has lost the thread of how fucking funny it is, so to reiterate, it's fucking funny. It’s very funny all the way through, including during the harrowing ending. Michael Legge packs so much into only twenty minutes, that’s so short that he doesn’t even have time to separate it out. Be funny, be painfully emotional, be a strikingly accurate parody - all at the same time. He manages it.

I should have listened to this earlier, it’s so good. Everyone else should listen to it if you want a bit of your faith in humanity restored, that some comedians are all right. It comes with three other files, two of which are also fun. One is an extremely relatable rant about how rabidly he’ll defend the importance of building a few hours into each day for doing nothing. Another is talking shit about Andrew Tate, which is also a good thing to do. And the third is a bit that also appears in his Strawberries to Pigs audiobook, which I’ve also started today (more on that to come, but I’ve hugely enjoyed the first few chapters), so I skipped that one and will just hear it when I get to that point in the book.

[mortarsynth]

hello, friend! this is an invitation to infodump about a topic of your choosing! -birdie

been saving this for the right time here's some oc concepts i've been thinking of lately

Core concept: Character is part of an alien society, works on a ship as in the kind that goes in space and seeks to colonize other planets. The personality of the character itself I'm not so sure of yet, however I do know this: He's a surveillance specialist, operating a mech that seeks out valuable resources on alien planets and maps them out for collectors, as well as other notable landmarks and signs of pre-existing civilization (or, on planets that aren't particularly lush, any carbon-based lifeforms in general)

The mech is a little similar to a synth from Half Life in that it is a) bug-like and b) looks almost organic, besides various mechanical features. It has a long, segmented body, with six 'legs', a scanner, and two compound 'eyes' that are capable of sending images of the world it's currently in from in front of, next to, underneath, above, and behind it. It is built to value speed and maneuverability over strength; while, of course, massive and unlikely to be brought down by basic elements or any typical weaponry, it is relatively weak and armed much less than mechs built for battle or even resource collection, with only one or two pieces of artillery, which shoot and move quickly but are difficult to aim, and which can swivel around.

The mech is also capable of changing its posture. It can locomote on six legs, allowing it to crawl into caves and other such spaces, under things if necessary, etc. It allows allows for quicker movement. However, the pilots' vision doesn't reach as far in this form, and more of the weak, flexible spots between its segments are revealed. With claw-like appendages, it's capable of climbing most walls and things that can bear its weight when it's standing like this, or on its hind legs, which I'll get to in a moment. Combat is relatively easy in this form, but it's primarily used to escape these situations.

It is also capable of moving about on four legs, with two freed and its front segment lifted, which is what pilots tend to default to. Standing like this, it tends to be a bit more durable, with more of its weak spots hidden, while still moving at a decent clip. It also still has a decent, if somewhat distant, view of the ground beneath it, while maintaining a much better field of vision thanks to the additional height. However, it requires careful maneuvering and can't fit into smaller spaces. A bit like driving a truck that's also a bug. Combat is less easy in this form, but doable, and it generally is the preferred form for its better defenses.

Finally, it can also stand on only two legs. This is rare, as, while it's still sturdy, it does of course have slightly less balance standing like this. It also can barely sense the ground, if at all. It can, however, easily climb like this, and it makes it easier to reach the top of taller landmarks, or to see farther into the horizon for whatever reason the pilots might need. Combat is complicated in this form, due to the placement of the artillery and its stature in comparison to most living things. It is mostly use, as mentioned, for scanning and climbing.

It's also sometimes accompanied by two or three 'guardian' mechs, piloted by only one person each, which are smaller but more heavily guarded and armed. They have two 'legs' which can bend, allowing them to 'crawl' alongside the surveillance mech if needed, and tend to be angular and black, imposing in form. They have a plain screen in front, allowing the pilot to simply see through and ahead of them. Big scary war chickens...

Pilots sit in a spot in the mech's head. On each side of the control room are six screens, streaming the world outside to them from different angles, and in the middle is a larger screen that shows a map of the planet, becoming more detailed as more of it is scanned and observed. Some of it is updated automatically, while other parts are added in manually. The map is also sent up to the mothership, with different markers added to signify things worth noting, in different colors depending on if it's minerals, or life, etc. Invisible data 'flags' are also planted on the planet itself, should the map fail in some way, which can be identified using certain tools. Control of these things are complicated and take quite a bit of training.

The mechs also usually contain some storage areas for rations, cleaning, etc. though they aren't as equipped as what's on the ships. This is because they could spend anywhere from days to weeks on the planets mapping it out and seeking out anything that might be important.

The pilots are equipped to be decently protected against potential hazardous environments, with thick armor and helmets, but surveillance specialists tend to be armed pretty weakly, usually just having whatever the alien equivalent of a machete or a pistol would be. They have small oxygen tanks built into their packs and filters on their helmets, as well as cooling vests available should they find themselves walking about on an especially hot planet. Because they have horns, their helmets open up specially; several tight seams are in the sides, front, and top. A latch under the chin allows it to unlock and open, allowing them to maneuver it off and on as needed. Once closed, the seams seal off, allowing nothing through them. They're usually completely covered, and are equipped with climbing gear and other such things, for those places where their mech simply can't function or fit. There's an aquatic variant as well, but this is usually only equipped when specifically going on a planet that's heavily aqueous, and pilots still must mind their oxygen and pressure levels as they explore.

While it was previously mentioned that I don't know much about the personality of the character I've been thinking of for this concept, I do know a few things: the entire concept came from the one of a character who is an engineer or otherwise intimately familiar with and empathetic towards machinery. He's probably a little like Scotty (Star Trek: TOS) in that he's protective of and highly knowledgeable about what he's driving, and can generally at least point out what's causing a problem and how it can be fixed. In this vein I could probably see him as being a bit of a cheerful know-it-all. Besdies the armor thing, too, I often envision him in bomber jackets and the like in his downtime, maybe with a toolbelt or some kind of a bag / pack / satchel / etc that he keeps on him with snacks and tools and things prepared.

I'd think it'd be pretty drilled into him growing up that what he does/is going to do is for the "Good Of The Empire :)" or what have you, but once confronted with the reality of the situation, he pretty quickly realizes how fucked up it (and the existence of the empire in general) is. Cue eventual mutiny.

[royalservices]

Stargazing at Observatory Park in Gaithersburg’s Western Neighborhood

Amidst the bustling environment of Gaithersburg, there is a special place where the night sky unfolds to reveal the wonders of the cosmos—Observatory Park. Situated on the city’s West Side, this compact yet significant park serves as a gateway to the universe, inviting visitors to immerse themselves in the celestial beauty that emerges after dusk. As I stand beneath the expansive sky, the city lights seem to dim, replaced by a canopy of sparkling stars that have captured the imagination for generations. In Gaithersburg, Observatory Park reminds us that even in an urban setting, the mysteries of the cosmos are within reach.

A Historical Landmark in Astronomy

Observatory Park occupies a site with deep historical significance, as it is located where the Gaithersburg Latitude Observatory once operated—one of the original six global observatories established in the late 1800s to measure the Earth's axis movements. The park honors this scientific heritage through educational markers that provide insights into its storied past. As I stroll through the grounds, I sense the legacy of discovery that permeates the space, reminding me that this site has long been dedicated to the pursuit of understanding and knowledge.

Prime Stargazing Opportunities

The park’s relatively secluded position and historical context make it a favored spot for stargazing, drawing amateur astronomers and curious visitors alike. On clear nights, Gaithersburg’s sky is alive with stars, planets, and even the occasional passing satellite. The park’s open areas allow for uninterrupted views of the heavens, making it easy to spot constellations such as Orion, Ursa Major, and Cassiopeia. Whether gazing at the moon’s phases or using a telescope to glimpse distant star clusters, the stargazing experience at Observatory Park is both humbling and awe-inspiring.

Community Events Focused on Astronomy

Observatory Park is more than a quiet place for individual stargazing; it also serves as a community hub for astronomy enthusiasts. The park frequently hosts events such as guided star tours and educational programs that bring the universe closer to Gaithersburg residents. Local astronomy groups often organize stargazing sessions, setting up telescopes and inviting the public to observe celestial phenomena like meteor showers or lunar eclipses. These events create a shared sense of wonder, uniting people of all ages under the same night sky.

Bridging the Past and the Future of Exploration

The legacy of the Gaithersburg Latitude Observatory remains an integral part of Observatory Park, providing a link between historical achievements in astronomy and the continued quest to explore the universe. The preserved meridian marker and interpretive displays offer glimpses into the scientific work once conducted here, while ongoing programs ensure that the park remains a place of curiosity and learning. In Gaithersburg’s West Side, this combination of history and science adds depth to the experience, making each moment spent stargazing a journey through both space and time.

Tips for a Memorable Stargazing Visit

For those planning an evening at Observatory Park, a few preparations can enhance the experience. Arriving after sunset ensures darker skies and better visibility for stargazing. Bringing binoculars or a telescope allows for a closer view of planets and deep-sky objects, though the unaided eye can still spot many stars and constellations. Using a red flashlight helps preserve night vision, while dressing warmly provides comfort during cool nights. In Gaithersburg, where the seasons change but the stars remain a constant, Observatory Park offers a captivating and accessible encounter with the cosmos.

A Space for Contemplation and Inspiration

Standing under the night sky, surrounded by darkness and a sea of stars, a profound sense of wonder washes over me. The park presents a rare opportunity to step back from the daily routine and reflect on the vastness of the universe. In this quiet corner of Gaithersburg’s West Side, looking up at the stars becomes an invitation to dream, to question, and to explore. Observatory Park not only opens a window to the cosmos but also to the human experience of curiosity, reminding us that there is always more to uncover.

Observatory Park goes beyond being just a stargazing spot; it is a place where the legacy of science and the beauty of the natural world converge. In Gaithersburg, it serves as a beacon for all who seek a connection with the universe and the enduring spirit of discovery. Every visit to the park is an opportunity to view the world—and the cosmos—with fresh eyes, one star at a time.

[shuichisweave]

Can we have Luca date hcs please ? The ones you made for Andrew were so good!

luca balsa date hcs

If Luca likes you, then he is going to be absolutely one hundred percent head over heels deeply invested in you.

He most likely is the one to ask you out on a date first, but he probably is taking you out on little rendezvouses to a small watering hole with an ice cream parlor nearby. Talking about the cute little fish that swim around and will nibble at your feet and hands when you approach them.

He packs a TON of different things. Things of course he probably won't need whatsoever, but he brings them simply because. He even brings three extra pairs of swimming shorts for himself.

He brings anything that you could possibly need, HE HAS IT. Believe me, he really has so much shit. He packs floaties, towels, an umbrella, and a sunhat to make sure you two will have the best time possible.

Both you and Luca had planned to have a little beach get away together, just the two of you. The beach was relatively empty when you had gotten there. You laid out a towel, and stuck the umbrella Luca had brought down into the sand, making sure that it would not tip over too easy.

“Luca honey!” you shouted and waved to get the male’s attention. He had been making a sand castle, but it toppled over and was more like a small hill at this point. He jogged over to you to see what you wanted.

“Yeah, what's going on?” he asked quizzically but with a smile.

“Can you just do me a favor and get my back covered for me? I really don't want get to burn up”

He is pretty much broken for five seconds; his jaw slightly slack and eyes wide, staring down at your body splayed out on the beach towel, just waiting for his response. To be honest Luca had always been a little bit on the perverted side but never outwardly tried anything with you because he never wanted to scare you off from him, and you know he’s also not a dick.

He makes up his mind finally and rummages through the beach bag, stuffed to the brim with towels, food, and other miscellaneous beach items, when finally he had found it! The tube of SPF 50 was opened up into his hands, and then slowly poured out some of the smooth cream onto his palm. It was now or never, so he kneeled down to reach you, and rubbed the soft lotion onto your shoulders, and progressed lower and lower. He felt like he was gonna pass out from how flustered he felt, he had never been in a situation like this; especially not with you.

He had finally made it to your lower back when he wiped the excess lotion off of his hands when you spoke up.

“Luca baby? You forgot a spot you know?”

Oh? Had he? “Whoops! Sorry about that. Where did I miss?”

“My legs dear”

He could faint right there and then. “Are you sure you’re okay with me doing that? I mean it’s a little bit… You know?”

“Oh honey I’m completely fine don’t worry about it okay? You’re my boyfriend of course.”

His hands were shaking at this point, he couldn’t believe you were going to let him anywhere near your legs (not like you wouldn’t ever, but you had only been dating for a little bit)

His hands gripped your legs, going up and down your thighs, rubbing circles into your skin. You were so soft and supple.

You were just enjoying scanning a book you had brought along with you, basking in the warmth and shade, with not a clue that Luca was loosing his cool behind you.

When he had finished up he damn near stumbled off of the towel and into the ocean.

---

bro i am SO sorry i never got to your ask its literally been more than a year im sure

[fireinmoonshot]

SPIDER | BUCKY BARNES x READER | PART ONE

CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR TFATWS EPISODE 3 ONWARDS.

PART ONE OF ? Summary: Bucky doesn’t know what to make of you when he meets you. You’re friends with Sharon, and you seem pretty easy to read on the surface. But the more time he spends with you, the more he seems to uncover, and the more he becomes tangled in the web you unwittingly weave.  Pairing: female!Reader x Bucky Barnes Fandom: Marvel / The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Word Count: 1,138 Warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER EPISODE 3 ONWARDS A/N: Title is taken from the song Spider by Hoshi! The lyrics really inspired me for the dynamic between reader x Bucky in this one. This does contain spoilers for Episode 3 of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier and it will probably contain more as the parts go on. I’m not sure how many parts there will be at this point, I’ll just see how I go! Please let me know how you enjoy it and I’ll try and get the second part up relatively soon!

Bucky specifically makes sure he doesn’t look at you for too long just so he can avoid the teasing from Sam – because he knows Sam will tease him. Sam always teases him. He also avoids looking at you for too long because he’s worried you’ll catch him and he’ll have to explain himself. He’s not good at explaining himself.

From where you’re sat across from him in your and Sharon’s apartment, you cross your legs and take a long sip of your drink. Zemo has made himself at home, Sam and Sharon are having a conversation by the wardrobe and Bucky is sat on the couch looking more uncomfortable than you’ve ever seen anyone sit before.

“We don’t bite, you know?” You say.

He looks at you for a second. “You’re funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be. I’m telling the truth. Sharon and I – we genuinely don’t bite. And that couch doesn’t either, it’s actually rather comfortable.”

Bucky narrows his eyes at you. You smile.

He doesn’t know what to make of you and it bothers him.

When Sharon had found them in Madripoor and essentially saved their lives, Bucky hadn’t expected to see her, let-alone see her with someone else. In the time it’d taken you to get back to your apartment Sharon had explained the basics. You’d met accidentally one night when you were both on the run from different people. A friendship had been struck and you’d been by each others sides ever since, saving each others asses on a nearly daily basis. The blip had taken the both of you, but when you came back things were just the same, if not stronger.

Sharon crosses the room and sits down rather comfortably on the couch next to Bucky. You smirk at the difference in their posture and Bucky flashes a glance at you once more, and thankfully you don’t catch him.

“Karli Morgenthau and at least seven others have taken the serum,” Sam sits down on the chair beside you, ignores Bucky’s comment about your best friend and instead, focuses on the situation at hand.

“You guys really should steer clear of all of this… for your own safety.”

Sam shakes his head. You’ve only known him personally for a matter of hours, but it’s clear to you that he’s the type of man who never backs down. You find it easy to trust people like him. “We know it’s a risk but we’re not gonna leave until we find the person who cracked the code.”

Bucky speaks up. “We got a name. Wilfred Nagel.”

You recognise the name. Sharon meets your eyes and you can see the apprehension in her face. “Nagel works for the Power Broker.” She stands up and goes to get her drink. The protective instincts you feel for her nearly make you stand up and order the three men out of your apartment, though you truly doubt they’d listen. You and Sharon have been through too much to get yourselves tangled up in more, right?

“We need your help, Sharon,” Sam starts again. “I can get your name cleared.”

Unintentionally, you suck in a harsh breath. Bucky looks at you, the only one in the room who seems to have noticed your intake of breath. He notices that you’re tense now, no longer comfortably slumped in your chair. He also notices that the grip you have on your glass is much tighter.

Sharon raises an eyebrow. “You haggling with my life?”

“Not like that.”

“I don’t buy that. You pretending like you can clear my name.”

“Okay, maybe it is hypocrisy. Maybe you’re right. What happened to you. But I’m willing to try if you are,” Sam stood up and walked over to Sharon. “They cleared the bionic staring machine, and he killed almost everybody he’s met.”

“I heard that.” He speaks without looking away from you, not caring that he’s living up to Sam’s nickname. You don’t notice.

“I don’t trust charity.”

“Okay, a deal, then. You help us out and I get your name cleared.”

Your grip on the glass tightens as you watch Sharon sigh and reach out a hand to shake Sam’s extended one. Bucky, at this point, is surprised that the glass hasn’t shattered, but then again – you’re not a super soldier, and the glass is pretty thick.

Sharon lets go of Sam’s hand. “Well, I sell to some pretty connected people. Lay low, enjoy the party. Try to stay out of trouble. I’ll see what I can find.”

You’re on your feet in seconds, putting your glass down a little too heavily on the table and walking out of the room after her. Bucky is smart enough to put two and two together as Sam comes and sits back down.

“Only Sharon’s name?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

“What? I don’t know her friend. She’s barely said a word. We know Sharon. Her friend could be anyone. We’re not in the business of trusting people we don’t know. Not when this much is at stake.”

Bucky looks across at the glass you’d left on the table. “You’re judging people based off of first impressions now?”

“Don’t you?”

Bucky can’t bring himself to reply to that. He stands and wanders over to one of the windows that overlooks the city and the streets below. He pretends he’s looking out at the view, but he doesn’t see anything except for his reflection staring back at him darkly. He does. He did. He judged you, and then he judged Sam for doing the same thing. He shakes his head and turns back around.

“Let’s just get this damn party over with and find Nagel. I want to get out of here.”

He’s about to walk back over to Sam when you come downstairs. You grab your coat from the coat rack by the door and tug it on, pulling the hood up over your head. Sharon is nowhere to be seen and Bucky has a bad feeling your conversation hadn’t ended well.

“If anything the three of you are doing is going to end up hurting her, I’d rethink your plans.” You take a moment to look around the room and Bucky could have sworn your gaze lingered a little longer on him.

And then you’re gone, disappearing out the door without another word. Bucky ignores the tug deep in his stomach that pulls him to follow you and stays firmly rooted to the spot.

Sam frowns. “See? I knew something weird was up with her.”

***

Bucky doesn’t see you at the party that night. He looks, though. He spends too long looking. He sees Sharon talking to several people, he sees Zemo dancing and wishes he could erase the sight from his mind. But he doesn’t see the one person he doesn’t realise he wants to see. You.

[tommyspeakycap]

again, your new john stones fic blew me away!!! Amazing. Please feel free to write about him all day every day!! <3

thank you again!! here’s another sweet one inspired by my own 1am experience tonight :) i wish I had a john stones

My hero

Your heart is quite literally thundering in your chest. There’s no feeling like it, this kind of fear that sticks you to the ground beneath your feet. You honestly feel like you can’t catch your breath, tears streaking down over your flushed cheeks as you hold your phone in your right hand with trembling fingers, one thumb finally letting go of the little microphone shaped drawing in your iMessages app. Even the whooshing sound of the message you knew was about to send to your best friend catches you off guard, making your shoulders clench and raise in fright.

“Are you seriously alright??”

She texts back, her confusion and teasing is something you know is laced into those letters across the screen creating a glow in the dim room. You roll your eyes at her, trying to keep your vision up while sending another voice note back; “No, seriously. Why does this only ever happen when I’m alone??”

“Probably because you live alone?” She replies back, and you curse yourself for a choice of friends who clearly have no empathy for what you consider to be a very serious situation. You know you won’t hear the end of this teasing once it’s all over. But the fear to you is all too real.

“(Y/n) I got your text! Came right here, are you alright?”

The sudden voice makes you literally clench your entire body, nearly shooting off the floor in fright and making one of those internalised fear noises that sounds like you just been attacked with a taser. You hear keys dropping down by the door and then a pause of his footsteps as you try to catch your breath. Your heart swells a little at the thought of him being here.

“John!” You yelp, your voice coming out something more like a strangled cry. The tall defender hears that sound and finds himself in panic, those long legs carrying him quickly and easily up the stairs of your small home until he spots you standing now in the doorway of your bedroom. He rushes towards you, seemingly checking you over for potential injuries the best he can in the darkness only broken by the lowest setting of flashlight on your phone. The first thing he notices when checking over your face with his hands is the wetness still making its way over your cheeks.

“Are you alright? what happened? Is there someone in there? Are you okay? Did someone hurt-“

You cut off his rambling with a finger over his lips, creating even more confusion for the fluffy haired brunette who had very clearly rolled himself out of bed to hurry over here. He was wearing shoes without socks, dirty shorts from training that he’d thrown off before going to bed only to pull back in to come to your, and an old sweater that usually sat somewhere downstairs in the closet closest to the door. It was obvious he had come in a wild rush the second he got your erratic message.

“It’s a wasp, John!” You whisper, as if the little creature that sitting on your lightbulb unwilling to move from the place you couldn’t reach and wouldn’t dare to even if you could, was able to hear you.

“A wasp?” John repeats incredulously. “Seriously?”

You nod vigorously, and and as much as the exhausted footballer wants to complain or even sigh at you, he doesn’t. Maybe he can’t. Because he’s got his arms around you and he definitely can feel you quivering against him. He had expected something more along the lines of a one night stand gone wrong or even someone breaking it, but as his consciousness began to catch back up with his previously very sleepy self, it made a lot more sense. In the event of a break in, you would probably have been bloody calmer than you are now to be honest. John had seen you after a pretty dangerous car crash completely still and relatively calm as you gave statements to police officers with blood still trickling down your face. But put an insect in your path and you scaled the closest thing to you for protection.

It just so happened that closest thing was often John Stones, and he was happy to be that person really.

It has become a norm between the two of you in the years you had been friends. Winter was the worst for spiders, but he generally didn’t mind the mildly irritating insects. He just got rid of them one way or another while you hid as far as you could get and then he’d come get you when the coast was clean. But you hated summer for this particular reason.

Wasps.

They fly in, fly into things and somehow never make it back on the window on their own despite it being the most easy thing one could ever imagine. Then, they try and sting you as if they aren’t in your house. They just creep you out, even the sight of them with their nasty little bodies. Bees aren’t a problem, they’re fuzzy looking and don’t intrude in your home nearly half as much. Also, they don’t try to sting you all the damn time.

“Where abouts?” He asks, his voice showing no hint of any destain or irritation he may harbour. “On the light,” you tell him shakily, following close to him back as you both enter the room. “Right up there- careful!”

John sniggers a little to himself, much to your dismay. He kicks off his shoes by your bedside table and climbs up onto the bed with ease on those ridiculously long legs. By luck, chance or both, he has some toilet paper in his hoodie pocket that he’d probably used to wipe his nose or something like that earlier, he can’t remember. He holds it out at arms length, only inches away form the unsuspecting black and yellow insect. “Where?” He asks again, “I can’t see anything.”

“There!” You insist, pointing up with a shaking finger. “I don’t see anything (y/n).” He repeats, making you whimper slightly, more tears suddenly appearing as you try to come to terms with the fact it might’ve moved while you were outside the room. The thought of having to sleep in your house while not knowing where it was would send you absolutely mental. “It was there I swear, look-“

“Ahhh, I got it. Stand back.”

He leans forward with relative ease, careful with the force he used so close to a live electric source and grips the buzzing creature in his tissue. “There we go,” he hums, stepping down from the bed. “All go-“

As if on cue, it flies out of the paper and you let loose a literal shriek as you dive backwards, crashing into the wall and then jumping forward in fright at that. “Woah!” John calls, “it’s alright, it’s right there. Calm, calm. Take a deep breath. Look,” he tries to calm you. That deep accent with his fatigue coating each word seeps into you, carefully calming your firing heart as he grabs it tighter from the floor, making sure he squashed it this time and immediately takes it to flush it down the toilet. John doesn’t know if you’re supposed to kill them or not, but at this moment in time he genuinely does not care. Was he fuck going to chase a wasp out of a window at half past one in the morning. Not a chance.

When he returns from the bathroom now empty handed, you still seem upset.

“That was scary.” You announce.

John smiles, pearly whites all on display. “I noticed.” He teases, making you scowl tiredly at him.

That scowl falters when his smile breaks into a light, soft laugh and he moves to stand in front of you. You absolutely don’t mind the fact that he’s babying you a little, using the sleeves of his sweater to wipe your cheeks before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and taking you into his strong arms. In fact, it’s very much welcomed. His arms are the safest place in the world to you and even the residual discomforted shivers from the concept of a wasp in your bedroom couldn’t get through that defender. He looks after a lot more than just the Manchester City goal line. No, he’s the sole defender of something much more precious that he doesn’t even realise.

Your heart.

“You okay now?” He asks softly, his tired voice rumbling through you. You nod against him, “Feeling a bit better. Thank you Stonesy.” You mumble, words muffled by the muscled chest that your face his resting against. “Anything for you, lovely.” He responds easily, pulling back from you in a way that aches his heart. The sudden lack of your warmth and presence against him is utterly brutal. He loves holding you, but hates it in the same breath. He would love to hold you if it was something he got to do freely instead of fleetingly.

His eyes are stuck watching you sit down on the edge of your bed to grab your phone and check the time with an element of shock rolling through your eyes when you realise it’s nearly two.

“You got training tomorrow?” You ask sweetly, a yawn following the tail end of your words adorable in a way that makes John’s heart flutter like a teenage boy. He nods, “Not till after dinner though, around 5.”

It’s your turn to nod, seeming to be chewing over something in thought as you lie down in the middle of your bed.

“Wanna stay then?”

John has to pretend to think about it at least a little bit so he doesn’t look like he’s jumping right up at the opportunity, which is exactly what he wants to do. “Why not,” he shrugs, chucking off his hoodie to the foot of your bed, “Scoot over.”

He clambers in, long limbs moving nowhere near as coordinated as they are on the pitch as he lays down by your right. It’s like a familiar dance, one you both know so well as you shuffle around so you can lay against his chest, one leg hooked over him as his arm wraps around you to pull you even closer. A silence falls between you as he feels your eyelashes fluttering shut, tickling his chest. He can’t find that same relaxation, can’t seem to shut his eyes for the thoughts flying through his mind all at once.

“I should teach you how to catch them.” John states, rumbling voice interrupting the peaceful quiet in which you had nearly found sleep. “You know, for the future.” He adds almost flippantly. Almost.

“Why?” You hum groggily, sleep croaking your voice ever so slightly. “I got you.”

John has to pretend your half asleep admission doesn’t send his heart flying into his throat. You do always have him, right there in the palm of your hand. Always.

“I don’t think other guys would appreciate me barging into their house in the middle of the night.” He suggests, making you quirk an eyebrow in question, but you still don’t look up at him and he isn’t even sure if you’ve got your eyes fully open. “No other guys here,” you state, “Single, living all alone.” You add lazily. The words almost make John wonder if he has fallen asleep, each one spoke playing straight into the dream he’s had for years for you to be his.

“Yeah, I know but…but there will be, at some point.” He suggests. You give no response for a moment and he briefly thinks you’ve fallen asleep at some point in this conversation.

“Bet those other guys wouldn’t come get rid of wasps for me in the middle of the night like you do.”

“Maybe,” John shrugs, “but I think there’s plenty of guys like that, especially for you.”

He feels you shake your head against him, your words decisive as you speak;

“There are no guys like you, John Stones.”

His words and his breath are caught on his throat, his heart erupting in his chest as he replays those words in his mind, trying to figure out if he had actually just heard them or if his tired mind was playing tricks on him because it was so late and he hadn’t had enough sleep.

But then you look up at him with tired eyes and a sweet smile. You know what you’ve just done, know the bomb you’ve just dropped and you’re hoping with everything crossed that he feels the same way.

“You’re my hero, Stonesy.” You say softly, your voice now a little sheepish and he can barely just make out the flush of your cheeks in the dim room lighting. “And I love you with everything I have.”

He doesn’t know what to say, his eyes wide as his heart beats as erratically as he had felt yours beating when he first arrived with fear coursing through his veins thinking you were in some kind of mortal peril.

“John?” You ask timidly, voice sheepish as you sit up in fear.

“Sorry,” he rumbles, pushing himself to a seated position, allowing him to lean forward and slide his hand around the back of your head to pull you into him, your lips crashing down onto his.

It’s just about everything he’s ever wanted.

“God I love you.” He says against your lips, a groan leaving his throat from pure satisfaction, pure relief of finally getting those words off of his chest. You giggle, resting back against his chest. “Can we sleep now, please?”

He nods, both of you shuffling so you can resume the position you had been in before a life changing confession that had spun you and the Barnsley brunette into the kiss that had been years in waiting. This was the happiest either of you had probably ever been.

“Guess we have the wasps to thank for this eh?” John lulls just as sleep is about to encompass you. He feels you shiver against him, the hairs on your arms immediately raising to attention at the mention of that which you hate so much.

“Don’t say that! That’s basically an invitation for them to invade my house!” You hiss, giving his chest a gentle swat as he pulls you closer to his side.

“Let them come,” he says almost triumphantly, “You got me now, always.”

You cosy yourself against him, a soft sigh of complete content and comfort tickling his chest as it dances across him. He feels that gentle smile that settles onto your gestures as your heavy eyes allow sleep to truly begin to take you.

“Always,” you mumble, words diluted by sleep “My hero.”

[bloody-bee-tea]

" don't make this weird, but... i saw this in the store. figured you'd like it. "

For your favorite pairing <3

Hammock

Jiang Cheng wistfully stares out at the garden. Lan Xichen just arrived to the weekly barbeque the Nie’s hold and that means that Meng Yao is now there as well. And that means that Nie Mingjue is about to be showered in hugs and touches and kisses to the cheeks and love in general.

Jiang Cheng tries to not let it get to him that none of that is coming from him, but it’s getting increasingly harder.

He is happy for Nie Mingjue—of course he is, because what kind of asshole would he be if he wasn’t—but he’s falling a bit more in love with him every time he comes over and it’s just hard.

Sometimes he wonders what kind of relationship they have, if it’s open or not and if he would have a shot with Nie Mingjue despite them being together, but Jiang Cheng can never bring himself to ask.

He’s not sure he wants to know the answer and so he simply doesn’t ask the question. He can’t be disappointed that way.

So instead he watches them, though he tries to cut down on that. He doesn’t want to be a creep after all. It’s just that Nie Mingjue is gorgeous and he seems so happy when he’s with Lan Xichen and Meng Yao and Jiang Cheng simply has a hard time looking away from him.

“You’re being a creep again,” Nie Huaisang mutters as he slides up to Jiang Cheng, pressing into his side.

“I know,” he gives back with a sigh and welcomes the distraction Nie Huaisang poses. “I’ll stop.”

“Or you could simply ask him,” Nie Huaisang shoots back because of course he knows all about Jiang Cheng’s dilemma.

What he doesn’t know though is Nie Mingjue’s relationship status and it had actually taken over a week for Jiang Cheng to believe that.

Nie Huaisang knows everything, especially when it comes to his brother, so him not knowing what kind of relationship he has with Lan Xichen and Meng Yao seemed unconceivable to Jiang Cheng. But Nie Huaisang had whined and lamented over his lack of knowledge and by now Jiang Cheng believes him.

“Or I could shoot myself in the foot,” Jiang Cheng replies, because they have been over this.

Multiple times.

“Hopeless,” Nie Huaisang mutters and takes a sip of his drink.

“Hopelessly in love, maybe,” Jiang Cheng agrees and watches with satisfaction how Nie Huaisang chokes on his drink.

“That was rude,” Nie Huaisang splutters but Jiang Cheng only smiles at him.

“That was well deserved.”

Nie Huaisang hums, because he damn well knows Jiang Cheng is right, and they fall silent for a while.

Jiang Cheng watches the other people at the barbeque, but of course his eyes are always drawn back to Nie Mingjue. And therefore Lan Xichen and Meng Yao. Jiang Cheng has to watch how Lan Xichen presses his face into Nie Mingjue’s shoulder to stifle his laughter, has to watch how Meng Yao casually picks food off Nie Mingjue’s plate and adds some of his own, has to watch them standing close and leaning intimately into each other.

It’s a lot, if Jiang Cheng is honest and it’s almost enough for him to decide to never come here again on Saturdays. But that would also mean he doesn’t get to see Nie Mingjue regularly anymore and that thought is almost worse.

Jiang Cheng sighs and Nie Huaisang takes that moment to clink their glasses together.

“I wish I could tell you,” he says, not for the first time and Jiang Cheng manages a smile for him.

“It doesn’t matter,” he gives back, even though it does and going by Nie Huaisang’s face he doesn’t believe him one word.

“I—could drop some hints? Pester him until he tells me? Create some situations for you?” Nie Huaisang offers—not for the first time—and Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“I appreciate it,” he says, because he does, “but no, thank you. We’ll just—I can live with a crush. And this is better than nothing.”

“If you say so,” Nie Huaisang grumbles.

Jiang Cheng knows that he would love to meddle with this, but Jiang Cheng made him promise to keep out of it and so far Nie Huaisang has been true to his word. He doesn’t like it, Jiang Cheng knows that damn well, but he sticks to it.

“Here we go,” Nie Huaisang suddenly says and before Jiang Cheng can even ask what he means he slinks away.

Only seconds later, Nie Mingjue appears at Jiang Cheng’s side.

“You don’t have anything to eat,” Nie Mingjue says and puts a plate into Jiang Cheng’s hands, that’s full with Jiang Cheng’s favourites.

“Thank you,” he stammers and goes a little bit weak in the knees when Nie Mingjue smiles at him.

“How are you doing? I feel like we didn’t have a chance to talk at all lately,” Nie Mingjue says and settles right in at Jiang Cheng’s side.

It’s a heady feeling, having Nie Mingjue this close and his full attention on him, but Jiang Cheng tries his best not to let it get to him.

It doesn’t mean anything. They are friends, and that’s it.

Sometimes, he even believes it.

~*~*~

A week later finds Jiang Cheng at the Nie’s doorstep yet again, except that this time he’s slightly early and even more nervous than normally. The reason for that is the hammock he bought on a whim and he’s still not sure if he should even give it to Nie Mingjue.

It doesn’t mean anything, it’s not even a gift that could be classified as romantic and yet Jiang Cheng worries. It could be enough to throw everything out of order and Jiang Cheng isn’t sure he wants to take that risk.

That decision is taken out of his hands, though, when someone clears his throat behind Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng wheels around and almost falls off the stairs, but a hand on his arm prevents the worst.

“Careful there,” Nie Mingjue chides him and waits until Jiang Cheng has regained his footage before he lets go of him.

The spot still burns warm though.

“Thank you,” Jiang Cheng says. “Hi. Sorry I’m early.”

“That’s alright as long as you’re going to help me set everything up,” Nie Mingjue says with a smile and enters the house, clearly expecting Jiang Cheng to follow him.

There’s still a lot to do and they get right on with that, because time is an issue as Nie Mingjue so gently reminds him but soon enough everything is done. The time flew by with their easy conversation and Jiang Cheng wishes they could always be like that.

He also wishes he could reach out for Nie Mingjue whenever he wants, could pull him into a kiss, could step up to him for a hug, and while those urges are hard to fight he manages to not fuck up.

Once they are done Jiang Cheng is left to fiddle awkwardly with his gift again and it’s not long before Nie Mingjue notices.

“What do you have there?” he wants to know with a nod at the package in Jiang Cheng’s hands and Jiang Cheng’s heart stops before it goes into overdrive.

“I—okay, don’t make this weird, but—I saw this in the store. Figured you’d like it,” he blurts out and almost smacks the package into Nie Mingjue’s chest in his haste to get rid of it.

Too late he realizes that he probably made it weird by telling Nie Mingjue to not make it weird, but it’s done now and there’s no taking it back.

“What’s this?” Nie Mingjue wonders, causing Jiang Cheng to roll his eyes, but he gets to unpacking relatively quickly. “A hammock?”

Jiang Cheng shrugs awkwardly.

“I just figured—you spend a lot of time in the garden and I thought you should also be able to relax.. Take a nap or whatever. Or let the kids have their fun, what do I know,” he mutters and he is absolutely not prepared for Nie Mingjue’s blinding smile.

“Thank you, Wanyin, I actually wanted to buy one for a long time, but when I’m out I always forget.”

Nie Mingjue pulls him into his side, hugging him close and Jiang Cheng can’t help the shudder that runs through him at that. He wants to reach out, wants to cling to Nie Mingjue but he forces himself to step back.

“No problem.”

Jiang Cheng is awkward with the thanks and the fact that Nie Mingjue is staring at him intently is not helping at all, actually.

“Wanyin, I’ve been meaning to ask—“ Nie Mingjue starts suddenly and Jiang Cheng already knows that he will not like where this is going. “Are you flirting with me?”

Jiang Cheng’s stomach drops out, because he never wanted to do that, never wanted to let Nie Mingjue know about his stupid, unrequited crush, but it seems like he failed that spectacularly.

“I’m sorry,” Jiang Cheng immediately breathes out, and he doesn’t even trust himself to deny it. “I know you’re with—whatever it is you have,” he waves his hand in explanation. “It won’t happen again.”

“I’m with who?” Nie Mingjue asks, a frown now on his face and Jiang Cheng thinks it’s just a little bit mean that Nie Mingjue makes him say it.

“With Lan Xichen and Meng Yao. I know that and I won’t—I’m not a home-wrecker or anything so I’m not going to try something if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not,” Nie Mingjue says and Jiang Cheng nods.

“Thank you.”

“No, I mean I’m not with Xichen or A-Yao,” Nie Mingjue explains and now that makes absolutely no sense.

“What?”

“We’re friends. They are a thing, but I’m not with them. I doubt A-Yao could stand it, actually, he has a bit of a possessive streak. Or maybe that gets him going?” Nie Mingjue muses. “Well, doesn’t matter, I don’t actually want to know. But I’m not with them.”

“Oh,” Jiang Cheng breathes out, completely unsure what to do now that he has that question answered. “I see.”

“So, have you been flirting?” Nie Mingjue asks and there’s the hint of a teasing smile on his face.

Jiang Cheng guesses he deserves that for falling in love with his best friend’s big brother.

“It won’t happen again, regardless of your relationship status,” Jiang Cheng promises, feeling thoroughly humiliated by the whole situation but Nie Mingjue shakes his head.

“What if I want it to happen again? What if I want to change my relationship status?”

“I—don’t follow,” Jiang Cheng admits, because what Nie Mingjue says is confusing as hell to him.

“Okay, let me put it that way: I have been flirting with you, not that you ever seem to pick up on it. Now the question is if you have been flirting with me as well.”

“You have—no way,” Jiang Cheng says and Nie Mingjue laughs.

“I have, Wanyin, I have. I’m in love with you.”

“Oh,” Jiang Cheng breathes out, his heart already understanding what his mind still has some trouble grasping. “Oh! Then yes, I have been flirting. Cause I’m in love with you, too!”

“See, now that wasn’t so hard, now, was it?” Nie Mingjue teasingly asks, but he takes the bite out of it when he lightly kisses the corner of Jiang Cheng’s mouth. “That okay?”

“Fuck no,” Jiang Cheng decides to go all out here. “You missed,” he tells Nie Mingjue as he taps his finger against his lips.

The look Nie Mingjue throws him at that makes him go weak in the knees but before he can worry about his stability Nie Mingjue has one hand in his hair and pulling him close with the other, absolutely devouring Jiang Cheng.

It’s a good thing they finished the preparations beforehand, because when Nie Huaisang arrives ten minutes later, they didn’t so much as part even once.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[uvobreakmylegs]

Pretense

got inspired by @ramwrites​‘s Inked piece. in the same story setting but it’s Hisoka’s s/o

Warnings: blood, mentions of death, very slight yandere behavior

The inside of the tattoo parlor was a lot cleaner than the outside, you decided. That's at least one thing it has in it's favor. Although that doesn't change the fact that you really don't want to be here. Especially since the woman in charge of the shop is not only willing to work for the Phantom Troupe, but also goes ahead in branding the significant others of the troupe.

'Branding' had been the way Hisoka described it, and it sounded pretty accurate. When you asked him why Chrollo would go so far to mark the partners of the troupe, Hisoka had answered with “boss just likes to make sure the most prized possessions of the troupe are marked as such. Cements it further for the more.... Resistant ones.”

Hisoka was currently wandering about the room, inspecting the tools next to the chair before looking to the artwork on the walls, softly humming to himself whenever he spotted a design that he liked. You were sitting in the chair at the center of the room, your legs dangling off the side as you waited for the tattoo artist to come back in. Your hands were folded in your lap as you tried to keep your mind from going crazy with scenarios of how this could go wrong. When it came to the Phantom Troupe, you wanted to have as little contact as possible. Being around them scared you, even more than Hisoka could whenever he got into that state where he was particularly unhinged. And while the woman doing the tattoo wasn't a member herself, just the fact that she was in close contact with Chrollo made you more than a little nervous.

On the other hand, Hisoka was relaxed, and almost seemed a bit excited as he came up behind you to rub your shoulders encouragingly. You turned your head to glare at him, but as usual, he smiled back at you, not taking the look you were giving him seriously.

“Alright, where did you want this thing?”

You turned at the sound of the woman's voice as she reentered the room. She sounded tired, and based off the way she grimaced at the sight of Hisoka, she was probably getting flashbacks to when she needed to tattoo the spider onto his back.

Hisoka tapped on a spot just below your shoulder blades.

“She wants it in the same spot as mine so we can match,” he said cheerfully, “isn't that cute?”

Stupid bastard.

“Sure,” she answered dryly before looking at you, “if you could take off your shirt and lay on the chair; I'll get the stencil out and we can see how the placement looks.”

You wordlessly obeyed, pulling your shirt over your head and folding it in your lap. When Hisoka took it to place it elsewhere, you laid on your front, holding on to the top of the chair to try and ground yourself.

You barely felt it when she placed the stencil on top of your bare skin, and Hisoka quickly agreed to the placement.

“All right, easy enough,” the woman said, more to herself than either of you. But she looked back to Hisoka, motioning with her head as she told him “you go back out to the lobby. I'll let you know when we're finished here.”

Hisoka shrugged.

“Alright then.”

A wave of panic hit you, and you struggled to find your voice for a moment.

“W-wait.”

They both looked at you.

“Could... Could he actually stay with me?” you asked.

Hisoka looked amused. The woman looked annoyed.

“Why?” she asked.

“I don't like needles,” you mumbled.

There was a certain level of disgust that she leveled at you in her gaze, and when Hisoka grabbed a chair and pulled it up so he could sit near the spot where your head lay, she asked “seriously?”

“How could I possibly leave her when she needs me?” was Hisoka's response.

“..... Fine. But you,” she said, jabbing a finger at Hisoka, “need to keep your damn mouth shut.”

Hisoka smiled at her.

She huffed as she got her tools ready.

And you lay still, letting out a small sigh of relief.

When you felt her hand press down on your back and heard the buzzing of the tattoo gun, you reached out for his hand, to which he obliged, taking your hand in his and gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

It stayed relatively quiet for some time, the only noises you could hear in the parlor being the soft music that played in the background and the constant buzzing of the tattoo gun. The tattoo was slowly taking form on that space on your back, the giant spiderweb with the number 4 in the middle.

She brushed over the areas where the needle had gone in every few seconds, wiping up the blood that came up after.

“This one bleeds a lot,” she grumbled.

“Oh? You aren't feeling nauseous at the sight of a little blood, are you?” Hisoka asked.

She glared at him, probably for breaking his agreement of keeping quiet.

“It can affect the end product if someone bleeds too much and I can't see the stencil because of it.”

“Aren't you a professional?” Hisoka shot back.

“I'm not saying I can't do it,” she snapped back, “it's just annoying.”

“Of course,” he answered, chuckling a little.

The woman chose to ignore him, turning her attention back to you and the design she was etching onto your back. Nothing more was said after that, and you found yourself focusing on the feeling of Hisoka's hand on yours. The callouses on his fingers, the edges of his slightly too-sharp nails that could cut through your skin if he really wanted to, and how his thumb continued to brush over your knuckles. Just that was enough to keep you calm in this situation.

“You need a break?” the woman asked you after a while.

“I'm fine,” you answered.

“Okay. Well, I need one, so let's take five,” she said, putting down the gun, “if you need the restroom, it's out the door and to the right.”

She left the room without so much as a word to Hisoka, who let go of your hand as he stood up and stretched his legs.

“There's a snack machine outside; should I get you something?” he asked you.

“I really don't want to eat anything from this place,” you said.

“Not even something sweet? Might be good for you, lift up your spirits a bit,” he said, rubbing the top of your head.

“I think you deserve a treat.”

You batted his arm away.

“I'm not a goddamn dog,” you grumbled.

He didn't react to the way you pushed his hand off of you other than to laugh a bit. He then turned away and left the room while you laid your head back down. It had been at least a couple of hours, and you hoped there wouldn't be too much left to finish with the tattoo. Too bad it was on your back and you couldn't get a good look at it to determine how far it was from being finished.

The woman came back in just as Hisoka did, the latter of which was holding a small bag of hard candies. They both sat back down, the woman looking over you and seeing that you hadn't moved at all.

“You sure you don't need a break?” she asked.

“I just want this stupid thing over with,” you answered.

You couldn't see it, but you sensed the way her eyebrows raised at your tone and how she looked over to Hisoka. The clown didn't say anything, instead ripping open the candy packaging with one of those sharp nails and popping a few of the sweets into his mouth.

After a few seconds of nothing happening, she seemed to shrug her shoulders and picked the gun back up to continue with her work.

“Didn't think you were so lenient, Hisoka,” she said after a moment, “the previous number four wouldn't have let his partner speak like that.”

Hisoka actually scoffed at that.

“Like I care.”

The woman didn't say anything to that and continued with the inking process. But now your curiosity was piqued, and you tentatively asked her “the other number four had this done, too?”

“Yeah. Can't quite remember what they looked like now, but he was one of the first to get his partner tattooed.”

“What happened to them after he died?” you asked.

“You mean after he-” she glanced to Hisoka- “killed him? Nobody checked up on them and they starved to death.”

You felt your blood chill at that. There were lots of painful ways to die, but starving to death would be such a long, drawn-out process; to just slowly wither away as you grew weaker and weaker as your stomach caved into itself and you lost so much strength you would no longer be able to move. Whatever fate had in store for you for when you died, you hoped it wouldn't be something like that.

Whoever that poor bastard had been, you hoped they didn't suffer for too long.

“Guess I'm not surprised you couldn't be bothered to let them out after you started with the troupe,” she said to Hisoka.

He shrugged.

“I didn't even know they existed until after they were dead. No one told me about this arrangement. Blame the other members who actually knew about the situation before you blame me.”

“You were the one to kill him,” she pointed out.

“If he wanted to keep his place he should have been stronger,” he said, placing another piece of candy into his mouth, “if it mattered that much to you then why didn't you let them out?”

“I'm not paid for that.”

“Ah, of course.”

There was silence after that, and another hour passed. Hisoka decided to entertain himself by slipping pieces of the hard candies past your lips one at a time, his sharp fingernails scratching your lips. You ended up slapping his hand away after a certain point, much to the mild astonishment of the tattoo artist.

“Still can't believe you of all people would allow that,” she said, “other members of the troupe would have been raging.”

“I don't like things that are broken,” Hisoka answered, running a hand through your hair.

“Pets are much more fun when they have a bit of bite.”

She couldn't see the way you glared at him for that comment.

The completion of the tattoo couldn't come fast enough, and it was of great relief to you when she finally pulled back and announced that she was done. She was saying something to Hisoka about how to take care of it to avoid infection, but you didn't pay it much mind, instead grabbing your shirt that Hisoka held out to you and pulling it over your head.

You paused ever so briefly during that, as you felt the sensation of something dripping down your back. You were quick to pull the shirt down the rest of the way, glancing back and finding some relief that she wasn't looking at you.

After receiving payment from Hisoka, you were both practically shooed out of the parlor. Despite her overall calm demeanor, she seemed to have little tolerance for handling Hisoka in large doses and wanted the clown out as soon as possible. It wouldn't have surprised you if he had decided to try and linger a little longer just to see if he could goad more reactions out of her, but he seemed to be just as eager as you were to leave.

The walk back to the hotel you were staying at was done in silence. That uncomfortable sensation was still there, running down your back and making you cringe as you felt like something was collecting above your waist.

The second the door of your hotel room was locked shut, you pulled your shirt off and exposed your back to Hisoka.

“Take it off,” you said.

“Don't you want to see how it looks first?”

“Hisoka, the blood packet is leaking. I can feel it pooling up at the bottom,” you hastily explained, “I want this stupid thing off of me.”

“If you insist,” Hisoka answered.

He reached forward, his nails catching on a particular spot just below your neck, and like peeling off a band-aid, Hisoka peeled off the sheet of texture surprise that he had placed over your back, the thin packet of fake blood he had hidden beneath the fake skin falling to the floor as he did so.

Just as you had said, there had been liquid pooling up at the bottom of the sheet, and when it was pulled away, some of the blood fell both onto the floor and your pants.

“Shit-!”

You immediately went to the bathroom, throwing your shirt to the side as you grabbed a towel off the rack and held it under the faucet. There was a coating of red covering your back, as expected, and you went about trying to clean the liquid off. Unfortunately, it seemed like your pants were permanently ruined. But you preferred that over that woman potentially discovering your ruse.

You managed to wipe the blood off, but you definitely needed a shower. Before doing that, however, you stuck your head out of the bathroom door to see Hisoka sitting on the bed, shuffling through cards as usual.

“I'm going to take a shower,” you told him.

“Just a moment,” he said, setting the cards aside and motioning for you to come closer.

With a sigh, you went to him, climbing onto the bed and allowing him to pull you onto his lap. You glanced at the side table, noting the sheet of nen that had been on your back for the past few hours sitting there. It didn't look like your skin anymore and was back in its normal form of a white sheet, though the ink that had been used was now embedded into it. The tattoo was larger than you had anticipated, and you were grateful you didn't actually need to have that thing permanently inked into your back.

“You'll be able to recreate that whenever you need to?” you asked.

“I do it all the time with mine, don't I?”

“Mm. Although I really have to question if that's going to be necessary. Are you expecting members of the troupe to just randomly lift up my shirt to make sure it's actually there?”

“You wouldn't want to risk a situation where it would be discovered that it wasn't there, now would you,” Hisoka replied.

“Fair enough,” you said with a shrug, “I guess I should just be grateful we went to all this trouble and you didn't just let them put that on me.”

“And allow the troupe to make a permanent mark on what belongs to me? Hardly. If I went so far as to mark you, I'd want my own brand,” he said.

“I don't know if I want that; you'd probably pick something stupid.”

He pouted at you.

“You're always so mean to me whenever we're alone; makes me feel like you don't actually like me.”

“I seem to recall something about pets with bite?”

Hisoka smirked, conceding as he nodded at you. Then, in a move that was somewhat atypical of him, he pulled you in closer until you were resting against his chest. You didn't question it or protest; there was that stupid part of you that genuinely liked the clown, after all.

The oddly quiet moment allowed your mind to wander, and your thoughts went back to what that woman had said about the original number four and his partner and the absolutely miserable way in which that partner had died. You didn't need to fear that same exact death; you were free to go where you liked, so being locked up with no food wouldn't be an issue if Hisoka unexpectedly died. At most you'd get kicked out of that room he had in Heaven's Arena, but that wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen.

The worst thing would be if Hisoka messed up and the troupe came after you because of it.

“You get so quiet whenever you're around the troupe. I think most of them would be shocked if they knew how you usually are,” Hisoka whispered.

It was true. You virtually clung to Hisoka whenever you were forced to meet up with the troupe. He always seemed to enjoy it, and not many of them bothered coming up to you. It was that part of you that worried you would somehow ruin his plans. Somehow, you would manage to let slip something you shouldn't and the truth would be revealed. Better to keep your mouth shut to avoid that scenario entirely and try to blend in with the rest of the significant others with their miserable expressions and occasional broken bones.

“When do you think you'll be able to fight Chrollo?” you asked.

“It's impossible to say. His movements are a mystery to everyone, so I need to wait for an opportunity to present itself.”

He ran those fingernails through your hair.

“So lets keep playing nice until then,” he told you.

“Mm.”

Play along until Hisoka got what he wanted, wait a few months after, and then he'd move on to a new obsession, a new opponent he wanted to fight. It was honestly a pretty miserable situation to be in, and yet you willingly stayed. Although if you did try to leave, you weren't so sure he would let you go so easily.

Hisoka wasn't a good person. And there was definitely something wrong with you for you to stay with him, even as he dragged you into dangerous situations that you'd never be able to survive without his help.

But one Hisoka running amok was better than the other twelve being allowed to continue as they were. At least there would be less people dying.

And still that question simmered in your mind: what would the troupe do to you if they found out Hisoka's true intentions?

You pulled away and he looked back down at you.

“Can I get my shower already?”

[nim-lock]

Art Career Tips, 2021 Edition

Here’s an edited version of my 2019 answered ask, because... this feels relevant. 

It is a problem of capitalism that folks equate their income as a judgement of their value as people; and let me preface. You are worth so much. You have inherent value in this world. Your income is not a judgement on who you are (plenty of billionaires are actively making the world worse). LARPing self-confidence will go a long way to helping you get paid more for your work, because clients will believe that you know what you are doing, and are a professional. 

& real quick—my own background is that I’ve been living off my art since 2018. I went to art school (Pratt Institute). I work in a publishing/educational materials sphere, and a quarter of my income is my shop. Not all of this information may apply to you, so it is up to you to look through everything with a critical eye, and spot pick what is relevant. 

So there are multiple ways of getting income as an artist; 

Working freelance or full-time on projects

Selling your stuff on a shop

Licensing (charging other companies to use your designs)

This post primarily covers the freelance part; if you’re interested in the other bits there is absolutely info out there on the internet. 

IF you are just starting (skip to next section if not applicable) dream big, draw often (practice helps you get better/more efficient), do your best to take "a bad piece” lightly. You’re gonna RNG this shit. At some point your rate of “good” works will get higher. Watch tutorial videos & read books. A base understanding of “the rules”; anatomy, perspective, composition, color helps you know what the rules are to break them. This adds sophistication to your work. One way you can learn this stuff is by doing “studies”—you’re picking apart things from life, or things other people have done, to see what works, and how it works. 

Trying to turn your interests into a viable career means that you are now a SMALL BUSINESS; it really helps to learn some basic marketing, graphic design, figure out how to write polite customer service emails; etc. You can learn some of this by looking it up, or taking skillshare (not sponsored) classes by qualified folks. Eventually some people may get agents to take care of this for them—however, I do recommend y’all get a basic understanding of what it takes to do it on your own, just so you can know if your agent is doing a good job. 

Making sure your portfolio fits the work you want to get

Here is a beginner portfolio post. 

Research the field you’d like to get into. The amount people work, the time commitment, the process of making the thing, the companies & people who work for them. 

Create work that could fit in to the industry you’re breaking into. For example, if you want to do book cover illustration, you draw a bunch of mockup book covers, that can either be stuff you make up, or redesigns of existing books. If you’re not 100% sure what sort of work is needed for the industry, loop back into the portfolios of artists in a similar line of work as whatever you’re interested in, and analyze the things they have in common. If something looks to be a common project (like a sequence of action images for storyboard artists), then it’s probably something useful for the job. 

CLIENTS HIRE BASED ON HOW WELL THEY THINK YOUR WORK FITS WHAT THEY WANT. If they’re hiring for picture books, they’re gonna want to see picture book art in your portfolio, otherwise they may not want to risk hiring you. Doesn’t have to be 100% the project, but stuff similar enough. If you aren’t hired, it doesn’t mean your work is bad, it just wasn’t the right fit for that specific client. 

If you have many interests, make a different section of your portfolio for each!

Making sure you’re relevant 

Have a social media that’s a little more public-facing, and follow people in the career field you’re interested in. Fellow artists, art directors, editors, social media managers; whoever. Post on your own schedule. 

Interact with their posts every so often, in a non-creepy way. 

If you’ve made any contacts, great! Email these artists, art directors, editors, former professors, etc occasional updates on your work to stay in touch AND make sure that they think about you every so often.

Show up to general art events every once in a while! If you keep showing up to ones in your area (when... not dying from a sneeze is a thing), folks will eventually start to remember you. 

Industry events & conferences can be pricey, so attend/save up for what makes sense for you. Industry meetups are important for networking in person! In addition to meeting people with hiring power, you also connect with your peers in the community. Always bring a portfolio & hand out business cards like candy. 

Active job hunting

Apply to job postings online.

If interested in working with specific people at specific companies, you could send an email “I’d love to work with you, here’s my portfolio/relevant experience”, even if they aren’t actively looking for new hires. Be concise, and include a link to your work AND attached images so the person reading the email can get a quick preview before clicking for more. 

Twitter job postings can be pretty underpaid! Get a copy of the Graphic Artists’ Guild Handbook Pricing & Ethical Guidelines to know your rate. I once had a twitter post job listing email me back saying that other illustrators were charging less, and I quote, “primarily because they’re less experienced and looking for their first commission”. This was not okay! For reference, this was a 64-illustration book. The industry rate of a children’s book (~36 pages) is $10k+, and this company’s budget was apparently $1k. For all of it. 

Congrats you got a job! Now what?

Ask for like, 10% more than they initially offer and see if they say yes. If they do, great! If not, and the price is still OK, great! Often company budgets are slightly higher than they first tell you, and if you get this extra secret money, all the better for you. 

Make sure you sign a contract and the terms aren’t terrible (re: GO GET THE  Graphic Artists’ Guild Handbook Pricing & Ethical Guidelines) 

Be pleasant and easy to work with (Think ‘do no harm but take no shit’)

Communicate with them as much as needed! If something’s going to be late, tell them as soon as you know so they aren’t left wondering or worse, reaching out to ask what’s up. 

And if all goes well, they’ll contact you about more jobs down the line, or refer you to other folks who may need an artist, etc. 

Quick note about online shops/licensing and why they’re so good

It’s work that you do once, that you continuously make money off of. Different products do well in different situations (conventions vs. online, and then further, based on how you market/the specific groups you are marketing to), so products that may not do well initially may get a surge later on. 

Start with things that have low minimum order quantity and are relatively cheap to produce, like prints and stickers. 

If you are not breaking even, go back to some of the earlier portions of this and think about how you could tweak things as a small business. Ease of access is also very important with this; for example, if you only take orders through direct messages, that immediately shuts off all customers who don’t like talking to strangers. 

Quick resource that you could look through; it’s the spreadsheet of project organizing that I made a while back 

Licensing is when people pay you for the right to use your work on stuff they need to make, like textbooks or greeting cards. This is generally work you’ve already made that they are paying the right to use for a specified time or limited run of products. This is great because you’ve already done the work. I am not the expert on this. Go find someone else’s info.

“I am not physically capable of working much”/ “I need to pay the bills”

Guess who got a hand injury Sept 2020 that messed me up that entire month! I had a couple jobs going at the time that I was terrified of losing, but they were quite understanding when I told them I needed to heal. So:  Express your needs as early as you know you need them. Also do lots of stretches and rest your hands whenever you feel anything off; this will save your health later. Like, the potential of a couple months of no income was preferable over losing use of my hands for the rest of my life.

This continues to apply if you have any other life situation. Ask for extra time. Ask for clarification. If you tell people ahead of time, folks are often quite understanding. Know how much you are capable of working and do your best not to overdo it. (I am.. bad at this)

Do what MAKES SENSE for your situation. If doing art currently earns you less money than organizing spreadsheets, then do that for now, and whenever you have the energy, break down some of the tips above into actionable tiny chunks, and slowly work at em. 

The original ask I got in 2019 mentioned ‘knowing you’re not good enough yet’. Most artists experience imposter syndrome & self-doubt—the important thing is to do your best, and if anything, attempt to channel the confidence of a mediocre white man. If he can apply to this job/charge hella money for Not Much, then so can you! 

Check out this Art Director tumblr for more advice!

Danichuatico’s Literary Agent guide

Kikidoodle’s Shop Shipping Tutorial

Best of luck!

–

Once again disclaimer this post is just the ramblings of a man procrastinating on other things that need to be done. I’ve Long Posted my own post so that it turns into mush in my brain if I try to read it, but I wrote this so I should know this content. If you got down here, congrats. Here’s a shrimp drawing.

Yee Ha. 

My reference post tag My tip jar

[sillylittlestoryblog]

Jesper Fahey Imagine

Jesper x female Reader

This is my first imagine ever. So pls don’t be to harsh😅

Also i m not a native English speaker so if I made horrible mistakes pls tell me nicely🙂

+ I m new to the grishaverse so there is a lot I just made up... again If I made horrible mistakes.. enlighten me 🥰

I wanna post this with he/him and they/them pronouns too. Just so nobody feels left out ✨

The winter air was terrible cold against y/n`s ears. Instinctively, she buried her face further into her scarf. She hated this time of year, especially in ketterdam. Because of the docks and the sea, it was even colder here than in her former home. She came to Ketterdam years ago, but she still didn’t seem to have gotten used to the city. The city with its dark alleys and dangerous corners. She had been told to get a decent job. Never be Outside in the dark. And above all she should Stay Out of the criminal gangs and their streetfights. And yet here she was, running again in the direction of the Crow Club to meet dirtyhands in person.

After the heavy oak door closed behind her, she took a deep breath. The warm air felt wonderful on her skin. There wasn't too much going on in the club tonight. Which pleased her very much.

" well who do we have here? I was afraid that you wouldn't come because of the snowstorm out there. ”Jesper's voice sounded happily through the room. In his hand he was holding a drink that he halfway spilled on his way to her.

Y / N didn't want to admit it, but she was happy to see him. Most of all, she was pleased that he was already a Bit drunk, so she hoped he wouldn't notice how she blushed while he hugged her.

Together they went to a table in a quieter corner of the crow club. Kaz Brekker sat there with his crowcane in his hand and sighed as Y/N and Jesper approached. Shortly afterwards she noticed Inej emerging from the shadows. She quietly sat down next to Kaz, keeping a safe distance as always. Y / N wasn't sure if she was doing it to give Kaz more space or to better protect herself. Y/N sat down next to Nina who was sitting on the other side of the table and apparently had a lot of fun giving a already drunken Mattias more and more alcohol.

Jesper sat down next to Y/N with a loud noise and started talking about his win today. He had lost a lot of money in a few card games and then won the Same Money back again after a round of chess. Inej had to explain the rules to him beforehand and was shocked that he really didn't understand how the game worked. His only luck was that his opponent understood it even less and so he had defeated him after a few rounds despite his moderate knowledge of chess.

Y/N was happy to have this group. For her, it almost felt like she had a found family, a home. The others also appreciated her very much. Nina was glad that there was another Grisha in the group. She loved challenging Y/N to play pranks on the other crow members. Even if the others wouldn't admit it, everyone loved the jokes they made up. Only Kaz usually looked offended when the two kept his people from their serious work.

She had also built up a good relationship with Inej in the two years that she had been part of the crows. Both were rather calm and liked to spend time alone. But they loved to talk about novels and books together. Inej and her had already broken into the library of Ketterdam several times at night to be able to read there in peace. Y / N fondly remembers those evenings. Especially Brekker's red-hot face when he found out what they had done. He was incredibly angry and didn't even let them be on the next mission. Meanwhile, Jesper just stood there, amused. Although he was disappointed in both of them too. But more because they didn't ask him to come along. Inej had smirked at the time and said that he was probably jealous. And to this day Y/N kept thinking about it. She could hardly imagine that he wanted to tag along because of the books.

"Hey are you even listening to me"

Jesper moved his hand up and down in front of her face.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Y / N knew this wasn't the first time he'd caught her thinking about him. She reached for the glass that Nina had put in front of her nose a few minutes ago. Hopefully that would take his mind off the nervous expression on her face.

"I thought it would be incredible if I would open a bakery with the money. You know the Money i won earlier"

Y/N looked deeper into her glass. In fact, she hadn't noticed what he'd told her. "Hmm interesting. I uh... would not have thought you were the bakery type. "

"Why not?" Jesper started to grin in amusement. Now he was glad that she was just so embarrassed and looking down. She was indeed looking really cute, while trying to come up with a logical answer that hopefully wouldn't hurt his feelings.

“Well you've shot at least 5 people in the last two days. And uh ... "

Jesper had to laugh out loud. "Hey hey little one, I was just kidding. I was Joking... Something like that happens when you don't listen. ”There was a big grin on his face. It felt like it went from one ear to the other. His dark eyes began to glow. Y/N didn't even notice how long the two had been staring at each other. Jesper looked away with a jerk and began to stammer something to himself, “I actually wanted to ask you something. Are we both going to break into that one library tomorrow night? I heard about this one book. And well we could steal it together. "

Y/N just had to grin. Maybe Inej was right after all and Jesper wanted to spend time with her.

"Sure, why not ... but you know that this is illegal?"

"It's only illegal if we get caught"

The next evening they both met below the roofs of Ketterdam's university district. Jesper's hair was disheveled, probably because he had slept until a few minutes ago. The night before had stolen both of their strength. None of them could really remember much. Once again, Nina had endured the most alcohol, but probably only because she was the one who made the others drink. Inej had gone to bed relatively early and in the early morning twilight still heard the singing voices of Matthias and Jesper. Y / N could roughly remember participating in a drinking game. And somehow she thought she had seen a smiling Kaz, but that would be too improbable.

It wasn't quite as cold as the night before, but because of the tiredness Y / N was all the more cold that day. Jesper didn't seem to have any other way. He had wrapped himself deep in his coat and was wearing a much too long scarf around his neck that he had stepped on twice while running. It was unusual for the shooter to be so calm. Most of the time he would talk out loud about his achievements in playing cards or he would consider a daring mission to get rich. He was very talkative, only today he was speechless.

Getting to the library was very easy there was a secured part in the south wing. Valuable writings from Kerch were stored there. But the two were only looking for a novel that would be insignificant for most People. It didn't take long for the two of them to get into the building over the roof of an adjoining building and through its courtyard.

Y / N knew her way around the library halls; after all, she had often come and gone there at night. Jesper ran right behind her, afraid of losing her between the tall bookshelves. It didn't take long for Jesper to find the right book. It was about tales and horror stories that used to be told to children in front of the campfire. Jesper had overheard Inej talking about this book. She had shared how she loved these stories as a child. That seemed like the right book for the right reason

y / n to dare a night break-in. He had longed to spend time alone with her for a long time. He admired her for her courage and caring. Jesper had been alone for a long time. Far from everything that felt like family. But the Crows gave him a home. Kaz was the protector of the crows and Jesper was happy to have someone like him, but somehow the warmth in the crow club was missing. But the warmth was suddenly there when the young grisha girl ran into his arms two years ago. She has been on his mind ever since. How many times had he caught himself paying special attention to her on missions. Or the many times she was turned on by drunkards and he would have loved to draw his revolver. Even now he could only think of her smile.

She had spread her coat on the floor and was tapping the spot next to her. Jesper sat down next to her, grinning, and began to read.

The warm sun shone on Y / N's face. What a nice way to be awakened. Most of the time she woke up by hearing gunshots in the street or the loud talk of seafarers stumbling towards the port. It smelled of old books, dust and leather. Only now did she realize that she was not in her bed. She opened her eyes carefully, hoping not to wake up in a prison or a cargo ship. But her surroundings were not unknown to her, only she had never seen them in this light. Next to her lay Jesper who had embraced her with both arms. She had never seen him so calm before. His chest moved slowly up and down as he breathed. How beautiful he looked.

"You should hire someone to make a portrait of me, believe me that will last longer."

Jesper's eyes were still closed. Y / N's face turned red again. She had to stop looking at him like that.

"Good morning, how did you sleep between so much Important literature?" She tried to distract from the subject.

Jesper opened his eyes and looked at her. Only now did she realize how close they were. He still had his arms around her. Jesper also noticed now what kind of situation they were in. He opened his mouth to answer when Y / N suddenly perceived voices from outside. She put her finger to his lips and turned her head towards the window. There were three library guards in the courtyard. They had just noticed the open window through which Jesper and Y/N had entered the building the night before.

Without thinking further, both started running. If they hurried they could still get outside via the west entrance before the university square is full of students.

Luckily for them it was easy to run through the great hall into the foyer, Jesper tried hard not to pull out his revolver to get them out of the situation, but Y/n insisted that they could flee without getting noticed. But it was too late, the guards had already spotted them. Jesper took Y/N by the hand and the two ran laughing like two school girls through the corridors until they could escape over the balcony of the west wing.

They laughed and hugged. "Oh Jesper that was close"

"Yes, If i had not been there, you would have never made it out of there"

"If you hadn't been there I would have never fallen asleep in there"

"That's right, but then I would never have been able to do this either."

He leaned over to her and looked at her with an asking expression. For a moment he was afraid of having lost his self-confidence. He wondered if he had misinterpreted anything. All the times she looked at him with a blushing face and glowing eyes. Maybe he was just wrong ...

But He couldn't think clearly anymore because he had already been interrupted by Y / N's lips. At that moment they both forgot everything around them. The dirty city, the cold winter air and the screams of the guards who were still looking for them.

Fuck, I think that's how it feels at home.

Thx for reading this😅 if you liked it pls write a comment. Just so i know if i should continue writing or not✨ if somebody has a request for an imagine just comment it or text me in my direct messages 🥰💗

Mai 🦋

[dweetwise]

some fluffy adamkate for @neilusgrey because this ship is adorable <3 i used some prompts from this post while writing. it fit them too well!

word count: 3320

Adam X Kate: Turn your face to the sun

“So? What do you think?” Kate asked.

Adam looked around their surroundings. They were attending a folk concert held in Kate’s hometown, and even though it wasn’t Adam’s usual scene, he’d been quick to accept when Kate had invited him.

The sun was shining bright in the sky and nearly everyone was smiling, the sound of music getting louder but nowhere near unbearable as they approached the small stage in the middle of the park. There weren’t as many people as Adam had feared, only a small crowd forming in front of the stage.

“It looks nice,” Adam said. “I’m glad you asked me to come.”

“Of course!” Kate said. “It’s about time we—”

“Kate! Over here!” someone shouted from behind them, effectively interrupting their conversation.

Adam watched as Kate turned around to face a group of people, her face cracking into a brilliant smile once she seemed to recognize them.

“Hey, y’all!” Kate beamed, hugging one of the women. “Long time, no see.”

It was strange to see Kate so in her element. Just walking across the park and to the event area, they’d been stopped several times as people wanted to catch up with Kate and a few even asked for her autograph.

“It’s so good to see you! Where have you been?” one of Kate’s current admirers asked.

“Oh, I did a bit of soul-searching,” Kate explained. “Kinda needed to drop off the grid for a while.”

Adam could tell Kate was struggling with the lie. It had been a couple months since their escape from the Entity and they were only just now getting used to the normalcy of the real world. Standing here, being alive and well and surrounded by happy people with the sun shining down on them was almost too good to be true.

“This is my date, Adam!” Kate introduced him.

But the best thing about the situation was that Adam was here with the most incredible woman he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing.

“Nice to meet you,” Adam said, giving a polite nod to the group.

“Likewise!” one of Kate’s friends said. “We’ll leave you to it, but let’s catch up sometime, okay?”

“That sounds lovely!” Kate agreed, before turning to Adam. “Come on, let’s find a good spot!”

Adam followed Kate closer to the stage, almost transfixed on the way her long dress swayed in the gentle breeze. With her flowy sundress and the daisies in her hair, Kate looked like a personification of summer, and Adam was honored to be allowed to bask in her warmth.

It also reminded Adam how overdressed he was for the occasion. He’d chosen to wear a suffocating button-up and stiff chinos that already felt too warm for the weather. Hopefully he’d manage a few hours in the Pennsylvanian summer.

“You wanna stay farther away from the stage?” Kate asked.

“Yes, please,” Adam said with a grateful smile.

Kate knew how much of an introvert he was and she had never appeared to see it as a big deal. The concert was already out of Adam’s comfort zone, so getting some relative privacy would be very welcome.

They found a spot away from the commotion but with a relatively unobstructed view of the stage and Adam pulled out the picnic blanket he’d packed earlier and spread it over the soft grass. All the while Kate kept looking at him in intrigue, making Adam wonder whether he’d done something wrong.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“You have a really good smile, you know that?” Kate said, making Adam realize he’d been smiling the entire time.

“Oh. Thank you,” Adam said, scratching at his neck self-consciously. “I guess I don’t tend to smile that much. Especially after…”

He didn’t need to explain further. Kate nodded in understanding, knowing they all had their own demons to battle after their capture and subsequent escape from the creature that still haunted their nightmares.

“Let’s make some better memories together,” Kate said with an adorable, soft smile.

Adam felt his face heat up and he merely offered a stiff “yes” as they started unpacking their bags.

They’d never officially decided what this was between them. For what felt like years, they’d been closer than friends but not quite lovers. None of the other survivors had batted an eye when Kate sought comfort in Adam’s arms by the campfire every time the trials became too much. There were jokes about them being a couple, sure, but to this day nothing had actually happened between them. Adam had never wanted to push and regardless, a world of violence and death wasn’t exactly the best setting for romance.

But now they were free and Kate had wasted no time in asking him on a date. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he was certain that it had to mean something.

“I brought snacks!” Kate's triumphant grin snapped Adam out of his thoughts.

Adam watched as she retrieved a small box of strawberries as well as a packet of cookies from her beach bag.

“I wanted to have a picnic but didn’t know what you liked, so…” Kate explained.

“That was very thoughtful of you,” Adam said. “I didn’t realize to bring anything…”

“And I didn’t expect you to!” Kate reassured. “Come on, have some!”

They sat down to enjoy the snacks together, catching up on the brief period of time they’d been apart. Adam had been busy with a pile of paperwork about his disappearance in Japan and Kate had temporarily moved in with her parents. It became clear that neither of them were certain what the future would bring.

“There’s so many opportunities!” Kate said. “We can do whatever we want. The freedom is amazing.”

“It is,” Adam agreed. “But also a little overwhelming.”

He had no idea what he would do or where he would even go. All he knew was that he wanted to be near Kate; she was his rock and no matter what happened, he was sure he’d be okay as long as they were together.

Of course, he couldn’t say that out loud. They weren’t a couple and it was a little too intense to place so much importance on their friendship.

“We’ll figure something out,” Kate said, and just her smile was almost enough to reassure Adam.

They sat together and finished the snacks while enjoying the music, until the crowd seemed to get even more invigorated as people got up to dance. Adam watched a small group form in front of the stage with people twirling, jumping and laughing as they danced to the upbeat music.

"Let's join them!" Kate suggested almost immediately.

Adam shouldn’t have been surprised. Kate’s love for music knew no bounds, and even now she was nearly shaking with the boundless energy she always seemed to possess.

"We can't just leave our things," Adam tried to reason. "You go on, I'll stay here."

"Aw, you can’t get rid of me that easily! I wanna dance with you!” Kate said. “Nobody's gonna take anything.”

"I'm not much of a dancer," Adam protested, abruptly feeling the nervousness start to kick in.

"You'll be fine, hun—I promise!" Kate smiled at him and extended her bracelet-clad hand. 

Before the fog had swallowed him all those years ago, Adam would have declined in a heartbeat. But he wanted to believe he had changed. During the last few years, he’d learned he was much more capable than he could have ever imagined—a little dancing surely wouldn’t kill him.

So he grabbed Kate’s hand and let himself be briefly pulled into her world of sunshine and spontaneity.

While they approached the stage, Adam tried his best to learn the choreography by observing people dancing. To his mortification, there didn’t seem to be choreography, all of the dancers seemingly able to effortlessly improvise a professional-looking routine.

By the time they reached their destination, Adam’s hand was sweating where it was holding Kate’s. She didn’t seem to care, only turning to him with a bright smile before settling closer to him in a dance position.

"Don't worry hun, just follow my lead!" Kate said.

Kate started leading him into a dance and Adam followed the best he could. He stared at her feet to try to get the hang of her movements, focusing too hard and completely ignoring the beat—

It was only a matter of time before his foot landed on Kate’s much smaller sandal-covered one.

"Sorry!" Adam apologized, embarrassed over his mistake. “Did I hurt you?”

"Don't worry so much," Kate said. "Look at me and just go with the flow."

Adam lifted his gaze to Kate's face and some of his tension melted away under her familiar smile.

Gradually, he got the hang of it. The song changed but the rhythm of Kate's movements stayed the same, and eventually Adam's clumsy steps got more confident and mirrored the spring in Kate's. He learned to read her ques, changing directions when she did and twirling her around when she wanted to. Kate laughed and giggled while they danced, the smile never leaving her face, like this is what she was made to do.

Adam realized she might not have gotten the chance to dance with anyone before this, not since their escape. Kate was never meant for the dull grey world of the Entity; she was meant for this, sun and music and dancing without a care in the world. And Adam was honored to be able to give it to her.

He lost count of how many songs they danced to. Previously, he might have been embarrassed of letting Kate lead, but any worries about arbitrary gender roles had disappeared during the years where their lives were nothing but survival.

Worrying about the past was the last thing on Adam’s mind as he followed his ray of sunshine into another dance. He was sweating something fierce but he didn't care, absently popping a few buttons on his shirt and rolling up the sleeves to try to cool down. Kate seemingly didn’t tire of dancing, but Adam spotted the redness on her cheeks and the more pronounced breaths she took as they picked up the pace and the exertion started to kick in.

At some point, people started forming a ring in some sort of group dance, and Kate didn’t hesitate to guide them to join in. The choreography was easy to understand this time, Adam effortlessly keeping up as everyone danced in a ring, before partnering up and switching every so often. Even though he stumbled a few times, Adam had always prided himself on being a fast learner.

When Kate twirled herself into being his partner for the finale, Adam found himself laughing. He was having fun.

"See? I knew you'd like it!" Kate said.

“Only you could convince me to do something like this,” Adam said.

Kate laughed with him, the sound radiant and inviting. She was beautiful and so full of light, turning heads even on the makeshift dance floor. He didn’t think he’d ever quite understand what she saw in a nerd like him.

Once the song ended, Kate let out a sigh.

"Whew, I'm beat!" she said.

Adam couldn't agree more. No matter how much he enjoyed the dancing, he was starting to get winded and his shirt was now drenched in sweat.

"Let's go drink some water," Adam suggested.

They returned to their spot and, to Adam's surprise, everything seemed to be exactly the way they left it. He'd completely forgotten about his worries while they danced.

Adam got out his water bottle from his backpack, when Kate's voice interrupted him.

"Aww, no!" Kate said, clearly disappointed when she peered into her bag.

"What's wrong?" Adam asked.

"I didn't close my bottle properly," Kate said, pulling out her wet, empty water bottle. "It's leaked all over."

She showed her bag that contained some now-soaked cookie crumbs and her keys bathing in water.

"I'm so sorry," Adam said. "We should hang it to dry somewhere—"

"It's not a big deal," Kate said with a smile. "It's just gonna smell like soggy cookies for a bit. That's what I get for being a klutz."

Adam's full water bottle felt heavy in his hands.

"Here, have some of mine," he said, extending the item.

"Are you sure?" Kate asked.

"Absolutely," Adam said. "We need to stay hydrated in this weather."

"You're the sweetest," Kate said and Adam felt his face heat up from the compliment.

Kate accepted the bottle, and only took one prim, small sip before holding it out for him.

"Come on, take a proper drink," Adam encouraged. "We’ll split it in half."

Kate gave him a sheepish smile, before tipping her head back and taking big gulps of the beverage, drinking nearly half of the bottle.

"Whew, that was refreshing," Kate said with a happy sigh. "Thanks, doll."

"My pleasure," Adam said.

He followed Kate's lead and emptied the bottle with similar gusto. The water felt heavenly in his dry throat and overheated body.

Afterwards, Adam insisted on setting up Kate's bag to dry in the sun.

"It should dry in no time," Adam said. "It's really hot today. I wish I was dressed for the weather."

"But you look so snazzy," Kate smiled. "Feels like I'm with royalty."

"I don't know about that. You look incredible today. I mean—err, you always do, but..." Adam floundered. "Your dress is beautiful."

"Thank you," Kate said with a shy smile, doing a little twirl. "It's good for dancing."

"I still can't believe you got me to dance," Adam said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Admit it. You had fun back there!” Kate was positively beaming at him.

"I did," Adam admitted. "And I never would have tried it on my own. Thank you."

"Thank you for doing it for me," Kate said. “I know this ain’t your thing, and I didn’t wanna push too hard. But I knew you’d be great, and…”

Kate trailed off, and Adam followed her gaze to an ice cream booth at the foot of the hill.

"Do you want to get ice cream?" Adam asked.

"I was just about to ask!" Kate grinned.

They walked to the kiosk, only standing in a short line as most people were still busy dancing. Adam took some time to browse the list of available flavors while they waited.

"Do you know what you're getting?" Adam asked.

"Not yet—there's so many to choose from!" Kate said, almost as in awe.

Adam hummed in agreement and focused back on the list. He was a little disappointed to not find matcha flavor on the menu, as it was his favorite from his time in Japan. Most of the options looked sickly sweet, and Adam skimmed over the cookie and candy flavors until eventually settling onto pistachio.

He glanced over at Kate who was still staring at the menu. If Adam had to guess, she was choosing between some of the more strange flavors—maybe even thinking about mixing them into a daring combination.

"Okay, I'm done!" Kate said once it was their turn to order. "You go first."

"One pistachio, please," Adam said.

"And for the lady?" the vendor asked.

"Chocolate," Kate said.

Adam turned to look at Kate in surprise.

"I ain't that adventurous with food," Kate explained with a sheepish grin.

After Kate's usual spontaneity and boldness, it was incredibly endearing to find out that she was a picky eater. Adam was suddenly eager for an opportunity to introduce her to Japanese and Jamaican flavors in the future.

"You can't go wrong with the classics," Adam assured.

"Here you go," the vendor said, handing over their orders. "That’s $3 a piece."

Kate started fishing out her wallet, but Adam beat her to it.

"It's on me," Adam said, already paying for their orders. “I owe you for the snacks.”

"Well, ain't you a gentleman," Kate said with a mischievous smirk.

Rather than stay closer to the stage, they returned to their spot to enjoy their ice creams.

"How is it?" Adam asked.

"Love it!" Kate beamed. "Do you wanna try?"

Butterflies danced in Adam's gut when Kate extended the treat to him. He nodded and carefully took a bite out of the ice cream. The chocolate flavor was not as rich as he'd normally like, but the texture was creamy and it didn’t taste too sweet.

"It's really good," Adam said. "Do you want to try mine?"

Kate regarded his green ice cream skeptically.

"Sure!" she eventually decided.

Kate hesitantly tasted the ice cream with the very tip of her tongue, before her face twisted into a grimace and Adam found himself laughing.

"Not for you, huh?" he teased.

"No, sorry, it's…" Kate said. "It tastes weird. Why is it salty?"

"Different strokes, I suppose," Adam smiled, digging back into his strange-tasting dessert.

They ate in companionable silence, watching the music performance and the people dancing to it.

"Thanks for coming with me today," Kate broke the silence.

"Thank you for inviting me," Adam said. "It's not my usual type of event, so I hope I didn't make too much of a fool of myself."

"What are you talking about? If anything, you're too cool for a place like this," Kate said.

"That's definitely not true," Adam protested. "I am not ‘cool’ in the slightest."

"Yeah you are," Kate insisted with a smile. "You're always so calm and polite and know exactly what to do. It feels like I'm just a dumb country girl in the presence of a prince or something."

Adam couldn't believe his ears. All this time, he’d thought Kate was too good for him, and she’d felt the exact same way about him?

"You are anything but dumb, Kate," Adam said. "To be honest, your charisma and talent sometimes overwhelms me. I often wonder what you see in me."

Kate laughed; not a mocking one, but a laugh that told Adam he was being absurd.

"Guess we're both kinda dumb, then," Kate smiled.

Adam returned the smile, feeling immense relief. He now knew that—for some crazy reason—Kate was just as fond of him as he was of her. Neither of them broke eye contact, and for a while they merely looked into each other’s eyes while their ice creams slowly melted.

"Can I kiss you?" Adam found himself asking.

It was barely above a whisper, finally having the courage to ask the words he hadn’t been able to during all these years.

"Thought you'd never ask," Kate said just as softly.

They both leaned into the kiss, and feelings of affection for this woman bloomed in Adam's chest when their lips met. Kate's lips were chilly from the ice cream but there was an underlying warmth in them that spread through Adam's body, like he was basking in the glow of the sun.

Their lips moved slowly against each other’s, hesitant at first and then finding a shared rhythm; just like when they danced together earlier.

When they pulled away, Adam was breathless, but it wasn’t not from a lack of air; it was from everything that was Kate.

"Hmm," Kate said conversationally.

"Hmm?” Adam repeated.

"Guess I don't mind pistachio flavor when it's mixed with Adam flavor," Kate smirked.

Adam threw his head back and laughed, and Kate did too.

They finished their half-melted ice creams while listening to the last songs of the concert. They talked about anything and everything, Adam no longer feeling like he had to hold back or keep up appearances. He placed his hand on Kate's and Kate insisted on trying some more ice cream from his lips.

It was the best date of Adam's life and he couldn't wait to see what their future might bring, knowing that Kate would be right by his side.

[brutal-nemesis]

E&T-Caring For Your Tiny Test Subject

Welp. (⓿ ◡ ⓿) I made more. Maybe real content will resume soon, but until then...tiny Erebus

←Previous - Masterlist

Ingredients: noncon partial stripping/nudity, noncon touching (unsexy)

“You know,” Neteri mused as she turned Erebus over in her hand, “you’re kind of filthy from your little adventure. Maybe I should-”

“No-”

“Yeah.” She tightened her grip as Erebus squirmed, looking down at him with a devilish grin. “Let’s get you cleaned up, lil guy.”

“I-I can do that myself Neteri you don’t need to-”

“I do need to because it will be so absolutely adorable.”

“That’s the dumbes-” Erebus’s protest was silenced as she placed one of her fingers over his mouth. He glared at her, debating biting her for a moment. She’d only have herself to blame if he drew blood...still, the last thing he needed was for his situation to get any worse. As per usual, Neteri was going to get what Neteri wanted and he’d just have to suffer through it. Even so, this...this was not going to be easy. Already, an awful feeling was stirring in his gut at imagining her…bathing him. He shuddered, trying to just put it out of his mind for now.

Once they got back to her office, Neteri plopped him back into the jar and screwed on the lid before taking him back to his cell. She set the jar on the desk and crouched down to his level. “I’m going to go get everything I need, and then I’ll be back, so you just chill until then, okay?” Erebus just quietly nodded from where he was seated with his arms wrapped around his folded legs. He tried to take deep breaths once he was alone, trying not to let himself get freaked out before it even started.

He would be fine. Neteri was always gentle with him as long as he was cooperative, so he wasn’t too worried about this experience hurting. He was far more worried about how much she was going to be touching him, about how exposed he was going to be, about how helpless he was going to feel. Not that he wasn’t already helpless right now, stuck inside a glass jar, but there was a whole new level of powerlessness in being held tightly in her hand. When he’d been his real size, he could always take comfort in his significant height advantage over her, the vague idea that he could easily overpower her if he tried. But now, she could do whatever she wanted with him with just her bare hands, and there was nothing he could do to fight back.

By the time she had returned with a relatively shallow bowl and a large cup, he had steeled himself for what was about to occur. Still, when she reached her hand in the jar, he pressed himself back against the glass, because he didn’t want this. “You’ll be alright little guy, the water’s nice and warm for you.”

“T-that’s not what I-hey! I can take that off mysel-”

“I’m sure you can,” Neteri said as she pulled his shirt off over his head, his struggles doing absolutely nothing to slow her down. “But this is more fun.”

“Not for me.”

“Who owns who here, Erebus? Now stop wiggling or I might take off more than your pants, and neither of us want that.” Erebus grumbled but stopped trying to resist, feeling his face flush at her bare hands against his skin. She poured some of the water from the cup into the dish before gently setting him down in it. He felt himself relax despite everything; the water did feel good and it’d been so long since he’d had a bath. Probably not since...since he’d lost everything. Maybe this would be alright…

Yeah, it felt sort of nice as she poured the warm water over his head with a thimble and started to wash his hair with two of her fingertips. He leaned into her touch just a bit-no no no wait this was Neteri she’d shrunk him and this was humiliating he wasn’t supposed to enjoy it, and even if he did, there was no way he’d let her catch on to it. He put on his best glare and hugged his knees close to his chest. Neteri laughed. “You always look so cute when you’re angry, but now that you're tiny it’s even cuter! You’re just perfect like this, huh?” She tilted his chin up, and he tried to turn away, but she forced him back. “Keep your head tilted back, I’m going to rinse your hair and I don’t want it to get in your eyes.”

“Fine.” She was always so unfairly tender with him, and part of him wished she would be rougher, that she would stop making it so hard to hate this. Even when she pried his arms away from his legs and forced him to uncurl so she could wash the rest of him, she was never anything but gentle. Fortunately (or maybe unfortunately? He wasn’t sure), the feeling of her fingers scrubbing his body ended up being more uncomfortable and invasive than nice, and it was easier for him to hate it. 

And he...he hated it, really hated it, so much so that he didn’t know how much more he could take, because he just wanted her hands off of him, not all over his bare skin, over all of his scars, at the same time. Erebus tried to squirm away, but there was firmness behind Neteri’s gentle grip, rendering his attempts futile. He was just as helpless as he had feared being, and he could hardly bear it. She was almost done, she had to be, she’d gotten just about everywhere and he wasn’t sure if his face could get any redder, if the awful feeling in his stomach could get any worse.

He fought back an audible sigh of relief as she started rinsing him off, glad that this experience was almost over. Once she was done, Neteri slid her thumb under his chin, tilting it up. “There, you’re all clean now.” She stared at him a moment more, stifling a laugh. “You’re all embarrassed it’s so adorable. I do wish I could keep you like this.”

“You’d better not-”

“No, no, I can’t, that would use up far too much of my magic power, shrinking you every day. And doing procedures on your tiny little body would be way more difficult and not worth it at all. But, a girl can dream,” she sighed. He rolled his eyes, relishing the fact that she’d have no idea that he did it. She released him, looking around on the desk. “I forgot to get a towel for ya; let me go grab one from your bathroom.” 

Erebus eyed the edge of the bowl as soon as she turned around. The sides weren’t that steep, and he could probably climb them, which would earn him a little moment of freedom, not stuck inside anything or held back by her giant hands. He stood and sloshed towards the edge, deciding it would be best to just try to crawl up the sloped sides. He stepped out of the soapy water, feeling confident enough in his first step that he immediately tried to take another, trusting all of his weight to his foot on the sloped side of the bowl.

A mistake he soon paid for. 

Still coated in soapy residue, his foot slipped on the smooth surface of the bowl, and his forehead immediately slammed into the ceramic. He managed to catch himself before his face slid into the water, and he just stayed on his hands and knees for a moment, staring at his reflection in the water as his head throbbed. Of course he couldn’t even escape from a bowl. Of course. Tears of frustration welled up in his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away as Neteri returned.

“What was that sound, Erebus? You okay?” she asked as she picked him up, examining him.

“It was nothing. I’m fine.” He crossed his arms, hoping she’d just drop it.

But this was Neteri, who rarely dropped it, and seemed to have a sixth sense for this sort of thing. “I dunno bud, you have a lil red spot on your forehead. Did you-” a mischievous grin spread across her face, “did you try to climb out and hit your head?”

“I-so what if I did? It doesn’t matter.” He looked away as she laughed, his face once again burning an unfair amount.

“It does matter ‘cause that is the cutest thing, oh you poor little dear.” She ruffled his hair with one of her fingertips before picking up the cup of clean water. “Alright, close your eyes while I rinse you off one last time.” When she was done, she set him down on the towel she had brought over and got to work drying him off. He let her, just wanting this whole thing to be over with. The towel felt so much rougher now that he was small...that was another thing he missed about home, how soft the towels always were. His sheets and pillows had always been so comfortable, too...he missed his father and everyone, of course, but sometimes he couldn’t help but think about all of the little things. 

Once he was dry, Neteri dropped him back in the jar before throwing a set of small, clean clothes on top of him. “Here, I shrunk those for you, and I think I was able to do it so they’ll get big when you do like your other clothes shrunk with you the first time. Just let me know when you’re done.” She held out her hands to cover the side of the jar facing her, eyes squeezed shut for good measure. 

“You’re good, Neteri,” Erebus called once he’d gotten changed. “Are you going to leave me alone now?”

“Absolutely I will not.” She picked up the jar, holding him at her eye level. “You are at your most cutest ever in the world and I want to be here for every second of it.” Her stomach growled. “Also I have just realized that I forgot about food and neither of us have eaten since this morning and it is definitely past lunchtime so I am going to go get us some food.” She grinned as she set the jar down. “I can give you tiny food oh I’m so excited!” She dashed out the door, calling “I’ll be right back!”

Erebus couldn’t say he wasn’t happy to get something to eat, but he could do without the way Neteri watched him the entire time, occasionally gasping at stupid things like him ripping off part of the chunk of bread she’d given him. She’d shrunk most of his food, so he ate it like normal, but for some reason she tore off a piece of her normal sized flatbread and gave it to him, and there was no way he was just going to bite into something so big. He’d lost a lot of his dignity over these past few months, but he still wasn’t a savage. Besides, she was making him drink out of a thimble, which was demeaning enough. 

She put him back in the jar while she took care of their plates and cleaned up from bathing him. He laid on his back and stared at the ceiling, wondering what stupid thing she had planned next. It would be foolish to assume she wasn’t going to spend the rest of the day bothering him and teasing him and holding him in her hands, since she’d made it very clear how much she was enjoying this. Nothing would be worse than the bath, though. He hoped. 

Once she returned, Neteri picked him up from inside the jar and just stared at him intently. Erebus narrowed his eyes. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m just trying to decide what to do with you next.”

“You could put me down.”

“Or I could hold you in my hand forever.”

“No.”

“I think I will do that.” She sat down on his bed and laid back, pressing Erebus against her chest, her hand on his back pinning him down on his stomach. His wiggling was, as always, completely useless. He sighed, trying to make himself comfortable and pretending he was just lying on a bed or something. Neteri rubbed her thumb soothingly up and down his back, and soon enough he...found himself...getting tired...

~~~

Neteri resisted the urge to jump up in delight as she watched little Erebus fall asleep on her chest. She’d just wanted to lay down and hold his tiny body for a few minutes, but she’d expected him to struggle longer or glare at her the whole time, not take a nap. Not that it was unwelcome, not at all, he was so precious like this, and there was no way she’d move until he woke up. She continued stroking his back, smiling down at her little test subject. 

She was going to enjoy every moment she had left while he was small.

Tags: @as-a-matter-of-whump @yet-another-heathen @galaxywhump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @whumpasaurus101 

[curious-sootball]

Okay, a bunch of Treasure planet ideas that has been lounging around my mind for a while (mostly featuring Silver being a dad, Jim having self-worth issues and guesses about logistics of RLS Legacy's voyage)

:readmore:

So, I'm not sure if there is a canon info about how long the Treasure planet expedition was; but the guesses I came across seem to land between six and eight months (i mean, if Flint's trove was easy to reach without teleport network, it probably would've been found sooner; plus when the map is switched on, its easy to see that Montressor is kinda far from it. So, i'll make a wild guess and say its at least a four month voyage on a good ship and starting from the planet close to it; Treasure planet also looks to be located in a kinda dangerous zone for ships to navigate – that asteroid belt right before it doesn't look welcoming).

I doubt that RLS Legacy never docked in another port during the expedition after she left Port Montressor – assuming that the first few months of the voyage were spent in the active starfaring zone, stocking up on everything on Montressor and never docking anywhere again sounds pretty impractical. (Its like deciding to make a highway roadtrip and avoiding stopping at gas stations at all costs).

So, point number one: the Doppler's expedition was long. Very long. Point number two: Jim sports a nice undercut through the whole voyage. As someone with a shaved temple, i can say – that kind of haircut needs semi-regular mainteinance to stay nice and short; Jim most likely shaves it himself or asks Doppler to help with it (because, y'know, shaving the back of your head is hard and sometimes dangerous). Point number three: where Jim would've got his shaving utensils from? Bought back on Montressor, maybe quite a long time ago (this kid is a bundle of issues; he may have learned to try and keep himself as "low maintenance" as he could by stretching the resources he has at hands: let's say, Benbow inn had hit low points in the past, Sarah was busy keeping it afloat and little kid Jim overheard her concerns about their state of affairs. So he did what he though was helpful in the situation, – both tried to help out with what he could, like washing dishes or cleaning the sitting area, and cut down on his own needs; e.g. stopped asking for new toys/clothes/whatever until absolutely necessary, picked up a relatively non-demanding hobby, you get the picture). So, his razor may not be rusty and falling apart, but it certainly have seen better days. (Disclaimer: I know next to nothing about straight razor maintainance.)

Here is when Silver enters the picture: let's say Legacy is docked in some port to stock up on something, Silver makes his check-list and catches Jim (who has a spot of free time and decides to touch up his haircut; Doppler is busy atm, so he's not in the picture) prepairing everyting for a shave. They joke around a little, Silver offers to help, notices the state of a razor (maybe gives it a closer look with his handy cybernetic eye) and goes "Jimbo, how old is this thing? You can't shave with that, at least not for long.".

(There could be a long tangent about whether ursids have to shave or not, but this is pretty long already; let's assume that Silver knows enough about blade maintainance as a cook and a pirate to spot a worn-down straight razor)

So, Silver adds a new point to his to-do list and they end up going shopping together. Cut to them reaching a barbershop and Jim trying to keep it together (because of the issues mentioned above; on one hand, he really needs a haircut and kinda glad, on the other, his self-worth issues are screaming at him that he could do it by himself or simply on the ship, there is no need to go all "fancy" for him); he may even try to talk Silver out of it, saying that they need to stock up on things and get them to Legacy first, but Silver is like "Its alright, kid, I have that figured out." And later, when they buy a new razor (and maybe some more new things for Jim, maybe clothes or smth), Silver notices how Jim is trying to go all "low maintainance" again, pulls him aside and says that he doesn't have to do that; John would not hold it against Jim in any way.

Later, back on the ship, they talk over cooking dinner about what happened and Silver lowkey wants to yeet Leland (again)

Just... Silver and Jim doing wholesome things together.

[kaile-hultner]

Nihilism is so easy, which is why we need to kill it

(I initially published this here a couple weeks ago.)

So last night it dawned on me that, after over two years of being relatively symptom-free, my depression snuck back up on me and has taken over. It’s still pretty mild in comparison to other times I’ve been stuck in the hole, but after 24 months (and more) of mostly being good to go, I can tell that it’s here for a hot minute again.

How do I know? Well, it might be the fact that I spent more time sleeping during my recent vacation from work than I did just about anything else, and how it’s suddenly really hard for me to stay awake during work hours. I don’t really have an appetite, and in fact nausea hits me frequently. I don’t really have any emotional reactions to things outside of tears, even when tears aren’t super appropriate to the situation (like watching someone play Outer Wilds for the first time). And I’ve been consuming a lot of apocalyptic media, to which the only response, emotional or otherwise, I can really muster is “dude same.”

For a long time I was huge into absurdist philosophy, because it felt to my depressed brain like just the right balance between straight up denying that things are bad (and thus we should fix them, or at least try to do so) and full-blown nihilism. This gives absurdism a lot of credit; mostly it’s just a loose set of spicy existentialist ideas and shit that sounds good on a sticker, like “The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.”

In the last couple years, while outside of my depressive state, I went back to Camus’ work and found a lot of almost full-on abusive shit in it. Not toward anyone specifically, but shit like “nobody and nothing will care if you’re gone, so live out of spite of them all” rubs me the wrong way in retrospect. The philosophy Camus puts out opens the door for living in a very self-destructive fashion; that in fact the good life is living without care for yourself or anyone/anything else. The way Camus describes and derides suicide especially is grim as fuck, and certainly I would never recommend The Myth of Sisyphus to anyone currently struggling with ideation. That “perfect balance” between denial and nihilism is really not that perfect at all, and in fact skews much more heavily towards the latter.

Neon Genesis Evangelion has been a big albatross around my neck in terms of the media products I’ve consumed in my life that I believe have influenced my depression hardcore. It sits in a similar conversational space to Camus’ work, in that it confronts nihilism and at once rejects and facilitates it. A lot of folks remark that Evangelion is pretty unique – or at least uncommon – in its accurate portrayal of depression, especially for mid-90s anime properties. The thing I notice always seems to be missing in these discussions is that along with that accurate portrayal comes a spot-on – to me, at least – depiction of what depression does to resist being treated. This is a disease that uses a person’s rational faculties to suggest that nobody else could possibly understand their pain, and therefore there’s no use in getting better or moving forward. Shinji Ikari is as self-centered as Hideaki Anno is as I am when it comes to confronting the truth: there are paths out of this hole, but nobody else can take that step out but us, and part of our illness is that refusal to do just that. Depression lies, it provides a cold comfort to the sufferer, that there is no existence other than the one where we are in pain and there is no way out, so pull the blanket up over our head and go back to sleep.

Watching Evangelion for the first time corresponded with the onset of one of the worst depressive spirals I’ve ever been in, and so, much like the time I got a stomach virus at the same time that I ate Arby’s curly fries, I kind of can’t associate Evangelion with anything else. No matter what else it might signify, no matter what other meaning there is to derive from it, for me Eva is the Bad Feeling Anime™. Which is why, naturally, I had to binge all four of the Evangelion theatrical releases upon the release of Evangelion 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon A Time last month.

If Neon Genesis Evangelion and End of Evangelion are works produced by someone with untreated depression just fucking rawdogging existence, then the Eva movies are works produced by someone who has gone to therapy even just one fucking time. Whether that therapy is working or not is to be determined, but they have taken that step out of the hole and are able to believe that there is a possibility of living a depression-free life. The first 40 minutes or so of Evangelion 3.0+1.0 are perfect cinema to me. The world is destroyed but there is a way to bring it back. Restoration and existence is possible even when the surface of the planet might as well be the surface of the Moon. The only thing about this is, everyone has to be on board to help. Even though WILLE fired one of its special de-corefication devices into the ground to give the residents of Village 3 a chance at survival, the maintenance of this pocket ecosystem is actively their responsibility. There is no room or time for people who won’t actively contribute, won’t actively participate in making a better world from the ashes of the old.

There are a lot of essentialist claims and assumptions made by the film in this first act about how the body interacts with the social – the concept of disability itself just doesn’t seem to have made it into the ring of safety provided by Misato and the Wunder, which seems frankly wild to me, and women are almost singularly portrayed in traditionalist support roles while men are the doers and the fixers and the makers. I think it’s worth raising a skeptical eyebrow at this trad conservative “back to old ways” expression of the post-apocalypse wherever it comes up, just as it’s important to acknowledge where the movie pushes back on these themes, like when Toji (or possibly Kensuke) is telling Shinji that, despite all the hard work everyone is doing like farming and building, the village is far from self-sufficient and will likely always rely on provisions from the Wunder.

As idyllic as the setting is, it’s not the ideal. As Shinji emerges from his catatonia, Kensuke takes him around the village perimeter. It’s quiet, rural Japan as far as the eye can see, but everywhere there are contingencies; rationing means Kensuke can only catch one fish a week, all the entry points where flowing water comes into the radius of the de-corefication devices have to be checked for blockages because the water supply will run out. There is a looming possibility that the de-corefication machines could break or shut down at some point, and nobody knows what will happen when that happens. On the perimeter, lumbering, pilot-less and headless Eva units shuffle around; it is unknown whether they’re horrors endlessly biding their time or simply ghosts looking to reconnect to the ember of humanity on the other side of the wall. Survival is always an open question, and mutual aid is the expectation. Still: the apocalypse happened, and we’re still here. The question Village 3 answers is “what now?” We move on, we adapt.

Evangelion is still a work that does its level best to defy easy interpretation, but the modern version of the franchise has largely abandoned the nihilism that was at its core in the 90s version. It’s not just that Shinji no longer denies the world until the last possible second – it’s that he frequently actively reaches out and is frustrated by other people’s denials. He wants to connect, he wants to be social, but he’s also burdened with the idea that he’s only good to others if he’s useful, and he’s only useful if he pilots the Eva unit. This last movie separates him and what he is worth to others (and himself) from his agency in being an Eva pilot, finally. In doing so, he’s able to reconcile with nearly everyone in his life who he has harmed or who has hurt him, and create a world in which there is no Evangelion. While this ending is much more wishful thinking than one more grounded in the reality of the franchise – one that, say, focuses on the existence and possible flourishing of Village 3 and other settlements like it while keeping one eye on the precarious balancing act they’re all playing – it feels better than the ending of End of Eva, and even than the last two episodes of the original series.

I’m glad the nihilism in Evangelion is gone, for the most part. I’m glad that I didn’t spend roughly eight hours watching the Evamovies only to be met yet again with a message of “everything is pointless, fuck off and die.” Because I’ve been absorbing that sentiment a lot lately, from a lot of different sources, and it really just fuckin sucks to hear over and over again.

It is a truth we can’t easily ignore that the confluence of pandemic, climate change, authoritarian surge and capitalist decay has made shit miserable recently. But the spike in lamentations over the intractability of this mix of shit – the inevitability of our destruction, to put it in simpler terms – really is pissing me off. No one person is going to fix the world, that much is absolutely true, but if everyone just goes limp and decides to “123 not it” the apocalypse then everyone crying about how the world is fucked on Twitter will simply be adding to the opening bars of a self-fulfilling prophesy.

We can’t get in a mech to save the world but then, neither realistically could Shinji Ikari. What we can do looks a lot more like what’s being done in Village 3: people helping each other with limited resources wherever they can.

Last week, Hurricane Ida slammed into the Gulf Coast and churned there for hours – decimating Bayou communities in Louisiana and disrupting the supply chain extensively – before powering down and moving inland. Last night the powerful remnants of that storm tore through the Northeast, causing intense flooding. Areas not typically affected by hurricanes suddenly found themselves in a similar boat – pun not intended – to folks for whom hurricanes are simply a fact of life. There’s a once-in-a-millennium drought and heatwave ripping through the West Coast and hey – who can forget back in February when Oklahoma and Texas experienced -20 degree temperatures for several days in a row? All of this against the backdrop of a deadly and terrifying pandemic and worsening political climate. It’s genuinely scary! But there are things we can do.

First, if you’re in a weather disaster-prone area, get to know your local mutual aid organizations. Some of these groups might be official non-profits; one such group in the Louisiana area, for example, is Common Ground Relief. Check their social media accounts for updates on what to do and who needs help. If you’re not sure if there’s one in your area, check out groups like Mutual Aid Disaster Relief for that same information. Even if you’re not in a place that expects to see the immediate effects of climate change, you should still consider linking up with organizing groups in your area. Tenant unions, homeless organizations, safe injection sites and needle exchanges, immigrant rights groups, environmental activist orgs, reproductive health groups – all could use some help right now, in whatever capacity you might be able to provide it.

In none of these scenarios are we going to be the heroes of the story, and we shouldn’t view this kind of work in that way. But neither should we give into the nihilistic impulse to insist upon doing nothing, insist that inaction is the best course of action, and get back under the blankets for our final sleep. Kill that impulse in your head, and fuck, if you have to, simply just fucking wish for that better world. Then get out of bed and help make it happen.