#i can only assume you were expecting a joke response when 90% of my asks have been about cucking and vore and milfs

[danmeichael]

How do I become a man

there is a man in your head. you desperately want to be him. he is probably not a specific person, he is more of a concept.

the first thing you're going to do is take his hands, or maybe hug him, or maybe stand at an awkward distance wanting to hug him like men do and you're going to say "thank you for letting me know something was wrong. thank you for showing me that what everyone wanted me to be wasn't the right fit. thank you for teaching me that there is a happiness i can find and what it looks like."

the second thing you're going to do is kill him, maybe as quickly as possible and maybe with painstaking care and maybe by using claws and teeth to put all of your hurt into him. and you must do this before you try to become him. because he is more of a concept, and you are a specific person.

i am not the best person to ask this question of. i am not a man. i am a guy, i am a dog, i am a thing, i am. i have divested myself of the responsibility to be what polite society considers a man, because the idea, broadly, of a man is not me and trying to become that idea will not make me more me. and this advice comes mostly from that very biased experience.

the "a man" you want to become is impersonal, and it is an ideal that will never be satisfied because you have likely built walls around the concept of manhood that fundamentally exclude yourself.

better questions are "what will make me happy" and "how do i become myself."

if you are asking me this you are presumably a man, and you will become a man by becoming yourself.

ymmv. as stated, i'm just a guy, not a man.

[creepling]

anything could happen (irl!quackity x reader)

pairing: irl!quackity x genderneutral!reader

word count: 2,805

summary: the reader is roomates with karl jacobs, and he is beginning to be concerned about the reader. when karl invites the reader to hang out with him and his friends, the reader is hesitant. however, they end up having a very deep conversation with alex.

tw: swearing, use of alcohol (mild), some angst, ends with fluff!!

alternative link: ao3.

I sneaked into the apartment as best as I could. I knew if I made one faint sound, the living room light would switch on and a very judgemental Karl would be sitting on his fancy couch (that he spent way too much money on) shaking his head and tutting at me like a disapproving mother.

And behold, that's exactly what came next when I dropped my boots too hard onto the ground when slipping them off. Only the lamp next to the couch flicked on. Karl paying mind to the electricity bill, I suppose.

"Have a nice night? Or should I say, very early morning?" God, he sounded angry. It took a ton of pressure to make Karl angry, making him impatient was like putting pressure on hard metal. And yet, my lifestyle really rubbed Karl the wrong way.

"Damn, you really stayed up late for me?" I tried to joke off, plopping myself onto Karl's fancy couch. His tongue rolled along the inside of his cheek, his arms crossed, he couldn't even look me in the eye. Instead he just muttered, "No, I just finished streaming."

After a very awkward pause, Karl finally spoke.

"Why do you do it?"

"Do what?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"I used to think maybe you were seeing someone, y'know like just the one person. Then I caught on it's more than just one person. You go out a drive with a different person every weekend, whether that be to hook up with them or just hang out."

"And what's up with that?" I asked, a little irritated. "Geez, Karl, I know we're different when it comes to relationships. But everyone is different— why can't you respect that about me?"

"It's not—" Karl said, a little to loudly, getting annoyed. He must've felt like I wasn't listening to him. He eventually lowered his voice and continued. "It's not the acts themselves that bother me. It's that you do these things, and you're never satisfied. You still hang out with people that you don't even like— you always come back and tell me how toxic they are. And then you hook up with people and say how it wasn't enjoyable. I just want you to be happy, and seeing you do things that make you feel unsatisfied worries me."

Karl could not have explained it better, his words perfectly summed up my feelings in the past few years. Ever since I had to get back up on my feet after hard times, being able to live as a roommate with Karl; have a roof over my head. Sometimes I just put myself in uncomfortable situations because I feel like I am not good enough.

"I understand, Karl. I honestly do. But— it's all I have. I have no one else to depend on." My eyes, like Karl's moments before, could not bare to look at him.

"You have me, (Y/N). You can hang out with me and my friends." At this moment, Karl had a tint of a smile on his face and he placed his hand on my drooped shoulder.

I could not contain the scoff that left my lips. "Me and your friends are so different from each other. I barely know anything about video games or Minecraft or streaming. I've talked to your friends before and I never know what to say to them."

"There's more to us than just our jobs, (Y/N)" Karl said, a small chuckle leaving his lips. "And what the hell are you talking about! My friends think you're so cool and always ask about you! I mean, I remember you and Alex—"

"I barely know Alex! We literally shared one laugh together because I knew the meme he referenced." I said, a smile plastered on my dumb face. Maybe I was smiling because deep down, I was beginning to remember how fun Karl's friends were. To be honest, I always felt a little jealous when I would hear Karl and his friends belly laugh on a stream. These dumb-asses were literally being paid to hang out with each other. Meanwhile, I busted my ass for a minimum wage and hung out with people that never see me as a priority. Maybe one day Karl's rich Youtube friend would give me money to do some stupid challenge.

"I'm not gonna lie, out of all my friends, Alex is the one who asks about you the most. At first he would do it to tease me— making sex jokes about you and us. But when he eventually met you, he asked genuine questions about you. Like the other day, he asked me out of the blew about if you went to college or worked a job."

I definitely did not admit it to Karl, but I actually found that flattering. Yeah, maybe I thought Alex was a little too loud on Karl's streams and I would have to cover my head with a pillow to try sleep at night. However, when I met him for that short moment when Karl's friends came to the house, he was genuinely a very funny guy. I remembered we were the same age, he was Mexican and studying law. If he remembered anything about me, I have no idea.

When I couldn't hide my smile of flattery, Karl looked at me and smiled back. He got up from the couch, about to turn off the light, but stopped himself and turned back. "Hey, instead of going out with your shitty friends next weekend, you should stay here. I'm inviting some of my friends to hang out. I think it would be cool if you joined us." Karl said without hesitation, leaving his words as an open thought.

"I'll think about it." Was all I could say, which was enough to make Karl smile, then wish me a goodnight. When I got into my room and crashed onto the bed, I left the invitation in my mind to think about until the next week.

It was finally the weekend again, after a long weekday of working I sat at my desk after putting on some casual clothes. Sometimes, I just liked to get ready in case last minute plans popped up. I still had the idea of hanging out with Karl and his friends in my mind. Yet, I began to feel nervous. I do not know why, but being surrounded by new faces always made me tense. I count myself as a pretty confident person, but there was something about Karl's friends that intimidated me. Maybe it was their crude humour or 'fame' status that made me feel iffy. Either way, I sat there, looking at my wall blankly, hearing the faint noises of Karl arranging the living room for his friends arriving. As a fumbled with by sleeves and chilled out to music, my bedroom door flew open and a really happy Karl stood there.

"So? Are you joining us tonight?" He asked, anticipating a positive response.

"I don't know, Karl." I lightly groaned, the nerves still having a hold on me.

"C'mon, (Y/N). It's nothing too big. Some of the guys are having beers, which I know you enjoy." Karl winked playfully.

I barked out a laugh when I heard his words. "You always say I have an alcohol problem!"

"Exactly! Let your alcoholism be the reason you hang out with us!" Karl was trying to drag me out the room at this point.

"Piss off!" I laughed, feebly slapping Karl.

"Please . . . They really want to meet you again!" Karl dragged me into the living room. Then, a sharp knock came from the door. "Too late! They're already here!"

Admittedly, it was awkward at first. The group immediately wanted to play video games, which I guessed was going to happen. I respectively sat on the couch and watched them play as if I was just watching a movie. I smiled throughout, watching them bicker and yell at each other through competitive spirit. The energy was chaotic, but enjoyable. It was a different environment I was use to, it was more relaxed, but still had the fun aspects I chase for. For the first time in a while, I felt like I could act like myself; the chill version of me. I was not afraid of being judged or talked down to. The nerves that consumed me hours before slipped away effortlessly.

The few bottles of beer I had throughout the night had gotten to my head eventually, my heavy eyes were opening and closing as I snuggled up to the edge of the couch. I checked my phone now and then, scrolling through social media. By this point, some of the group had fallen asleep from drunkenness, or went home. The string of people left were beginning to wind down; Karl offered spare pillows and blankets for the ones who wanted to crash. From the silence I assumed everyone, even Karl himself, were drifting off to sleep. Until I heard a voice acknowledge me.

"Not going to sleep?"

It was Alex. I realized once I looked up, seeing he was exiting the kitchen with another drink, with one beer in his other hand that he was beckoning to me. I took it, mumbling a thanks, my eyes trailing towards him as he took a seat next to me.

"I'm used to staying up late at the weekends, so my body clock is all over the place." I confessed, smirking down at my beer bottle before taking a light sip.

"At least you aren't a light-weight like most of these idiots." Alex joked, looking around the room at his friends. "I suspected we would play more games, but I think people couldn't hack anymore. It's a shame though, I felt like we didn't include you too much."

It was considerate for Alex to say that, but I chuckled dismissively. "I didn't feel left out, don't worry. I enjoyed the company. I needed a chill night like this one."

Alex smiled at that, and immediately looked down when he did, but it was still contagious enough to make me smile. For a short moment I took in his appearance. He hadn't changed much from the last time I saw him. Still wore a beanie that took up 90% of his head, no matter the weather.

"I don't know if Karl mentioned but—" Alex began, suddenly becoming bashful. "I bought the beers for you, as a kind of present. I remembered you drinking them the last time we were over."

"Oh my God— Karl didn't say to me . . ." I said. "That's so thoughtful of you, thank you so much."

He really did that? Considering we were just acquaintances, I did not expect that. I had drank them throughout the next, since they were my favourite. He remembered something so miniscule about me. I then added, "You didn't have to do that."

Alex was biting the bottom half of his lip before he said, "I mean— I wanted to get you a little something. We all did— really. We always feel bad coming over here and never having the time to get to know you. This is your house just as much it is Karl's."

I scoffed after taking a swig of my drink. "It's more Karl's house than mine. He's the one that lives in it. I'm always working or out hanging out with people. The only time I'm ever here is when I'm sleeping or eating. In fact, this is the first night in I have had in months."

"What do you do then if you're barely in the house?" Alex asked.

I became a little tense. Remembering Karl's chat last week made me realise how useless my life was. Karl was right, the things I do and the people I hang out with do not benefit me in a positive way. My 'friends' haven't even texted me today to ask why I'm not hanging out with them. I truly never had anyone that cared for me. I sure haven't had anyone do something as small as buying me my favourite beers. I shook my head and muttered, "Nothing interesting . . ."

My face must have exposed my sadness, as Alex had a look of concern on his face. To ease the tension, I looked over to him and twitched a smile. However, I don't think it convinced him. God, I hate worrying people.

"I know we barely know each other yet. But— If there's something on your mind, you can always talk to me about it."

Normally I dread hearing words like that, but looking at Alex and how calm he seemed to be around me convinced me I could trust him in that moment. Before I realized, I was spilling my train of thought all over the atmosphere. I told Alex about my 'friends'; how I feel like they never give a shit about me. I confessed that I am unhappy with my life, that I feel like I am wasting my time and potential. I admitted my distain for making Karl worried about my wellbeing every time I came back to the apartment. Lastly, I affirmed that tonight was the first time I felt happy among another's company in a very long time. How I felt content, knowing no one would judge me or think I was taking up space. I thanked him again and again, knowing that his act of service was little to him, but absolutely gigantic to me.

"What you and your friends did tonight, no one has ever done to me in a long time. It was so miniscule, I know, but it's more than I have ever experienced. For once, the kindness felt genuine. Is it wrong to think like that?" My eyes looked at Alex, desperate for reassurance.

"Absolutely not, (Y/N)." Alex shook his head. "From what you have told me, you have every right to feel the way you're feeling. Not gonna lie— your friends sound like dicks."

"They are dicks!" I laughed out, wiping the loose tears from my eyes. "And I am sick of being associated with them! From here on out, they are not my friends anymore." I turned my whole body to face Alex at this point, my sudden movement alerting his attention. "If you don't mind, can I count you, Karl— everyone else— as my new friends?"

The smile that emerged from Alex's face warmed my chest. "You don't need to ask, (Y/N)" He said, "We already counted you as our friend."

The happiness that swelled in my chest consumed me in that moment, and it stimulated me to enrobe Alex into a hug. His body was tense from my sudden touch, yet he relaxed easily into my body and his arms moulded into my touch. The fragrance clinging to his sweater engulfed my nose, making me nuzzle deeper into his shoulder. Alex chuckled and the vibrations tickled me, making me scoff out a laugh.

We met each other's gaze as we pulled away from the embrace; analysing the tint of blush on his cheeks, tracing to the bridge of his nose. He ruffled the hair on top of my head, making me laugh and nudge him playfully. Our instant smiles welcoming the space between us.

"So . . . got anymore tired yet?" Alex asked, raising a brow.

I shook my head and slowly looked around the room. Clocking the console lying on the coffee table, I grabbed it and my fingers began to awkwardly fumble with the joystick.

"First step of becoming friends, should be you teaching me how to be a pro-gamer." I joked, giving him a playful smirk.

He rolled his eyes, cringing as he grabbed the other remote. "It's not for the faint hearted," He joked along, "I think you'll get the hang of it, though."

For the rest of the night, into the early morning, we played games. We laughed our asses off, had mini arguments; stirring some of the others out of their slumber when Alex couldn't contain the volume of his voice.

Anything could happen, I realized. If I seek positivity, I will eventually find it. Thankfully, I was able to admit — I discovered it already.

TAGLIST / if you would like to join my taglist, click here !

[realcube]

rq; could you possibly write a one shot about the reader having AD(H)D and has a really hard time focusing on core academics (math, science, english, history) because they feel scared about stimming and/or fidgeting in front of people and so they ask tamaki for help?

tw; very mild angst, fluff, stimming, i use the word ‘embrassing’ too much, swearing

words; 2.7k

it only took a moment of skimming over your latest progress report for you to understand the situation.

you continued to thrive in practical subjects like physical education, graphic design and manufacturing — the three main reasons you managed to secure your spot in the support course — but your core subjects seemed to be lacking.

for the last two years, you managed to score flying colours in all your subjects. but now, it was starting to appear as though your golden era was coming to a close. what was once a report with only scores greater than 90%, was now a range of totals anywhere from 90 to 50%.

this meant you were still passing all of your classes but these grades were only indications of how you were doing now; you knew that if you continued to struggle in all of your core courses, you might not finish your third year of UA highschool.

you simply wouldn't allow for your grades to decline further, so like any good student would, you made a list of ways you could improve.

number one was, of course, study more. however, you were almost certain that discipline and diligence aren't the causes of the issue.

number two was to ask for help from your teacher and although this was a completely valid option, you still felt like the problem ran deeper than your ability to comprehend the material. after all, you had made it this far without having to do so.

before you could even ponder number three, your pen ran out of ink. with a huff, you reach out to grab a new one from your pencil case, until you noticed that in the spot where your pencil case usually sits on your desk, there was nothing.

it was as though the void had caused all your memories of yesterday to come crashing down on you in an instant; it was almost nauseating. yet it, ironically, provided some clarity as to the location of your stationary.

two days ago, after school, you paid a visit to tamaki's house to deliver the gear he had commissioned. however, what was initially meant to be a casual interaction, somehow turned into a game of pictionary (with mirio and nejire there too, of course), for which you needed to bring your pencil case out of your bag. amidst your awkward goodbyes, you must've forgotten to put it back into your bag, hence your pencil case is probably lying dejected on tamaki's coffee table.

this left you with no choice but to throw on your jacket and begin your journey to tamaki's house. fortunately, he only lived a bus ride away from your home, yet you still mentally rebuked yourself for the whole length of aforementioned bus ride due to the fact that every time you would interact with tamaki, it felt like you were digging a deeper grave for yourself.

partially because you always found yourself oversharing with him — not that it was a one-sided ordeal — and you couldn't begin to explain why; he kinda just had a comforting aura about him. albeit you haven’t said anything embarrassing yet but the possibility of that happening was way too large. plus taking into consideration your complicated feelings for each other, leaving your pencil case at his house was a disaster waiting to occur.

or perhaps you were overthinking it. either way, you were now standing in front of his door with your school uniform and backpack on during a saturday afternoon because you had no idea what else to wear.

after ringing the doorbell, you stood as a patient statue in the cold until tamaki reluctantly opened the door and only poked his head out. “hello?”

emphasis on ‘only’, because he was truly committed to not allowing you to see him in his casual-wear, for some reason. a part of him reasoned that there was no way you would expect him to be wearing his school uniform on a saturday, but the majority of his brain was screaming about how he had to hide his clothes from you at all costs. especially since he was wearing socks, comfy trackpants and — most shamefully — a sweater with a small octopus design on it. and what would you think of him if you saw that his choice in loungewear was so childish?! it would be utterly humiliating.

completely unaware that tamaki was having a crisis behind the door, you pulled your most authentic smile and said the line you had been rehearing on the bus, “hi, tamaki. sorry for coming unannounced, but i think i left my pencil case on your coffee table when we were playing pictionary with mirio and nejire.”

“oh.” tamaki was almost too panicked to process what you just said but once he did, he immediately recalled the moment he noticed that you had left behind your pencil case. at the time, he planned on calling you to ask if he could drop it off at your house, but his nerves got the better of him and he decided to keep procrastinating the call until he completely forgot.

though, if he remembered correctly, the pencil case should be lying on his desk after he moved it there in hopes that the convenient location would remind him to return it; which it evidently did not.

“yeah. uh, i’ve got it. i’ll just go get it.” his face tingled with warmth slightly as he retracted it from the doorway, resulting in him finally realising how cold it is outside. in fact, since the eaves of his house shielded you for the climate, he didn’t even notice that it was snowing!

the polite bone in him got to work before the rest of him could react, as he blurted out, “come in, make yourself at home.”

fuck! i mean, it’s not that he doesn’t want you in his house — quite the opposite actually — but rather now he had to dart off to his bedroom before you could catch a glimpse of his sweater. but at least now this gave him an opportunity to change into something less embarrassing.

closing the door behind you, you were now left alone in tamaki’s living room. your eyes followed his figure as he dashed towards his bedroom, “odd.” you murmured to yourself. you weren’t exactly tamaki’s BFF but you were close enough to him that you could tell when he was acting weird.

but you didn’t think to much of it. actually, you were slightly grateful for this weird spike in tamaki’s behaviour because if he doesn’t want you around, that just means you are less likely to overshare and catch feelings, which means better outcomes in the long run, right?

after changing into a plain blue sweater and collecting your pencil case, tamaki strolled into the living room and handed it to you with a weak smile, “here you go.” he almost whispered, patiently waiting for your response so he could mentally prepare himself for goodbyes or another hour (or so) of conversation.

“thank you!” you basically squealed, pulling off your bag to stuff your pencil case back inside. while adjusting the straps on your shoulders, you took a moment to appreciate tamaki’s familiar attire, “oh, i love your sweater; i have a similar one with a cute little octopus on it.”

tamaki concluded that neither of you would be saying goodbye for a long while.

“thank you.” he responded with a soft smile, folding his arms over his chest as he made his way towards the kitchen, “um, so how are you?” he inquired, assuming that it was a pretty harmless question that would simply help get the conversation off the ground while he prepared tea.

“i’m good. but i don’t think i can say the same for my progress report.” you said with an awkward chuckle, standing aside as you watched tamaki put the kettle on. “and how are y--”

“what do you mean?” tamaki asked, disregarding the fact that he didn’t answer the question himself. although, simply put, this was because he found that conversation came more naturally to him when he was with you; or perhaps that is a slight overstatement. he tended to be more curious and inquisitive when talking to you and it wasn’t hard to tell.

until now you and mirio simply brushed it off as tamaki’s interest towards the support course, since you were the one who manufactured most of his gear. yet nejire always teased him as she believed that tamaki’s interest was caused by a different sort of passion.

nevertheless, regardless of tamaki’s motives, you still found yourself consistently answering his questions, “eh, well, i’ve just not been performing as well as i hoped.” you replied plainly with a shrug.

“is that all?”

no matter how many questions he asked, each one still managed to catch you off-guard. “um,” your throat ran dry, which might’ve been a sign from a deity to stop talking, but your swallowing was your way of proving that you did not care. although you will probably regret it later, talking with tamaki always relieved you.

“well,” you started, the lump in your throat growing by the second, “i guess i have a bit of trouble focussing in some classes too. but i mean, maybe it is because i drink too much caffeine? i’m not even sure to be honest.” that was lie, you were  90% sure of what the problem was, but you wanted to hear tamaki’s response before you proceeded, to determine whether he’d be open-minded about it.

“there is no such thing as too much caffeine.” he joked, handing you a cup of tea while he sipped on his own. “so it’s probably something else.”

he’s too good. it’s as if he knew you were withholding information.

“well,” you began once more, trying your best to appear clueless, “i guess moving helps me focus, but no once else in the class does it so wouldn’t it be embarrassing if i was the only one?”

“i don’t think it would be embarrassing at all.” he spoke softly, leading you back into the living room and offer you a seat on the couch beside him, which you graciously accepted. “but if you think it is, then i have something to help.”

before you could say anything, tamaki got up and headed towards his bedroom; leaving you to drink his heavenly tea while he searched. though, only a few minutes passed before you felt his arms slither over your shoulders to hook two clips together by your neck.

“there.” he said with a proud smile, “this is one of my cloaks that i use in my hero costume. you can tie it together so it covers the whole front half of your body.”

observing your reflection in the blackened TV, you smiled upon seeing for your own eyes that everything he said was true. it was like wearing a cape that goes around your whole body, and it had a nice hood! “wow, this is so adorable!” you cheered, then paused, “but how is it going to help me focus?”

“well, you can do whatever you want underneath it and no one will notice.”

ignoring the shady implications of that sentence, you moved your hand around underneath the cloak and he was right! no one would see you fidgeting underneath the cloak, and hopefully the professor’s voice would cover any sounds you made. plus, it looked pretty badass.

“this might work! are cloaks included in dress-code?” you joked, but you weren’t laughing for long as you turned to look at tamaki who was wearing an upset expression with his head hung low, “no.”

“oh.” you sighed, unclipping the cloak and handing it back to tamaki with a slight smile, “it’s fine. thank you for your help, and the tea. it was delicious, but i’ll probably have to start cutting back on the caffeine.” you gave it a chef’s kiss yet he didn’t even chuckle like he usually does. it was almost scary how your true emotions reflected onto him, as it seemed like the whole atmosphere had changed.

“(y/n).” tamaki uttered with a much more serious tone; eyes filled with determination yet trained onto the cloak in his hands. “you shouldn’t be embarrassed-- or at least, I, um, don’t think you should be.”

your eyes widened at how sternly he said the first part; granted, he became flustered when it came to the second part, but it really showed you how firmly he stood by what he was saying. you nodded for him to continue as he looked like he still had a lot on his mind.

“it’s unfair that you have trouble focussing because of what other people think. so my two cents is that you should do whatever you need to do, and, um, not care about other people... well, i mean, you should care about them, but just not what they think about you. because like, you can’t really control that--”

he found himself having to abruptly shut his mouth to stop himself from prattling on any further. especially since most of what he was saying was probably none sense that he mistook for inspirational, or at least that is what he gathered from the shocked look you wore; it was ironic how humiliated he was.

“that’s nice to hear.” you hummed, a kind smile gracing your features in place of the previous stunned expression, “though it’s hard to believe coming from someone as cool as you, tamaki.”

“cool?”

“yeah.” you chuckled, rolling your eyes at his baffled look which he must have been faking. surely he knows how highly thought of and respected he is throughout the whole school. he is in the big three, for fucks’ sake! “there is probably a better word to describe it, but you are one of the most badass people i know.”

“badass?” it was as if all he was capable of doing was repeating these words to you with an innocent yet confused gaze.

“yes!” you enthused, “so, is there anything you even have to be embarrassed about?”

“i do!” he almost whined, and without thinking, he stormed to his bedroom only to grab the sweater he cast aside earlier to show it to you, “look! an octopus sweater, isn’t this embarrassing?”

you deadpanned, unsure as to whether he was joking or not. “stimming is very different from a octopus sweater but go on.” however after a few moments of actually analysing the design on the article of clothing, you exclaimed, “oi, i have that exact same sweater! how is a cute little octopus embarrassing? plus, it would be extra cute on you because you have tentacles.”

in a moment of frustration and wanting to prove a point, he threw the sweater aside and began to sheepishly grab at the ends of his sleeves, “well, you know what’s even more embarrassing? having a crush on someone for three whole years and not having the balls to ask them out! and on top of that, being to nervous to return my crush’s stuff after you left it at my house.”

you weren’t sure if he meant to switch out ‘my crush’ with ‘you’ on purpose or if he was just confused. either way, you found yourself leaning in to wrap the poor boy in an overdue embrace, smiling against his chest as he hugged back. “that was..” you faltered, allowing tamaki to interject with “mortifying” but you were quick to correct him, “i think that was a very unique way to confess, and i'm just glad you did.”

your chuckle that followed was left to echo around the room as tamaki stood still and silent, simply enjoying the comfort in your arms as feeling the pleasure of time escape him. until eventually he whispered close to your ear, “so since i know more about embarrassment than you thought, will you take my advice now?”

you snickered, gently tracing shapes onto his back, “i was going to take your advice either way because if i don’t get good grades and remain in the support course, how will i graduate with you?”

“good point.” he hummed, not-so silently enjoying the relaxing sensations near his spine, “but we are not wearing matching octopus hats.”

how did manage to shoot down your idea before you even proposed it?

[thesibfiles]

Courtney going on tour right after?

Theres a misconception that after Kurts death, Courtney went straight on tour right away. This is false. The album was already set to release a few days after and they couldnt change that on such a short notice. Promotion for the album was cancelled and she pushed back the tour 4 months.

“Live Through This was supposed to provide Love an opportunity to step out from her famous husband’s shadow. “It’s annoying now, and it’s been annoying for nine years, Love said in a 1999 Jane Magazine interview of always being connected to Cobain. Released four days after Cobain’s body was found, the album’s promotion was put on hold. Rather than retreat from the public eye, Love openly mourned and helped fans of Cobain and Nirvana make sense of the singer’s death. She sat with grieving teenagers gathered outside the couple’s Seattle home and recorded a reading of parts of his suicide note that was played at the singer’s memorial that gathered near the Space Needle. In the days following his death, Love showed a very raw and emotional side and admitted that, like many fans, she didn’t have all the answers. 

It was, and still is, impossible for people to discuss Live Through This without noting the irony of the album’s title. Love has said the name was not a prediction at all, but instead a reflection of all she had endured in the months leading up to its release, including a very public custody fight with the Los Angeles Department of Family Services over daughter Frances Bean. Rumors suggested that Cobain had written much of Live Through This (it’s Miss World, not Mister, just FYI). “I’d be proud as hell to say that he wrote something on it, but I wouldn’t let him. It was too Yoko for me. It’s like, ‘No fucking way, man! I’ve got a good band, I don’t fucking need your help,’” was Love’s response to critics in Spin’s oral history of Live Through This. Love and Cobain often shared notebooks and lyrics with each other, and while there is talk of Cobain’s influence on Love’s work, or the writing of all of it, less is mentioned in the press of her impact on his lyrics and music. Rather than sucking all the life out of Nirvana or threatening the success of the band, like many assumed she would do, she inspired Cobain. Fun fact: In Utero, Nirvana’s last album, was named after a line from one of Love’s poems.

Sadly, songwriting rumors would be replaced by other rumors. Women are often vilified and condemned for the deaths of their male partners. Love, like all women, was supposed to save her partner from death and addiction. Fans of Cobain projected all their anger and resentment over the loss of the Nirvana front man onto Love, and soon she was blamed for not only his addiction but also his death. There are even two movies devoted to the theory that Courtney killed Kurt: the awful Soaked in Bleach (2015) and the equally awful Kurt & Courtney (1998). If you think we’ve come a long way, baby, sadly we haven’t. 

One year after Anthony Bourdain’s death, Asia Argento is still being blamed, and in September 2018, Ariana Grande had to take a break from social media after fans blamed her for the death of her ex Mac Miller. A few months later, she would be blamed for new beau Pete Davidson’s mental health and addiction issues. It’s amazing she finds the time to write hit songs what with all the dude destruction she has going on. When women are not being blamed for the deaths of the men in their lives, they are being attacked for not grieving properly. “She wasn’t crying. She’s got $30 million coming to her. Do you blame her for being so cool?” a hospital staffer said of Yoko Ono following John Lennon’s murder in 1980. 

About four months after Cobain’s death, Love went on tour to promote her new album. Some questioned and judged why she would go on tour so soon, but Love has said it was a necessity. She had a young daughter to support. She needed to work. She also, sadly, still needed to prove herself. “I would like to think that I’m not getting the sympathy vote, and the only way to do that is to prove that what I’ve got is real,” Love told Rolling Stone in 1994.

Twenty-five years later, Cobain’s death still hangs over Live Through This. In the days leading up to the anniversary of Cobain’s death, former Hole bassist Melissa Auf der Maur wrote an open letter to music magazine Kerrang saying she “would not stand for Kurt’s death overshadowing the life and work of the women he left behind this year.”

“We were extremely well designed for each other,” Love has said of her relationship with Cobain. In a letter reprinted in Dirty Blonde: The Diaries of Courtney Love, she calls him “my everything. the top half on my fraction.” The two had similar upbringings, both came from broken homes and spent childhoods shuttling between relatives and friends. They both grew up longing for love and acceptance. When we tell the story of Kurt and Courtney we talk about drugs and destruction, but we don’t talk enough about love.

The two also shared an intense drive and ambition. “I didn’t want to marry a rock star, I wanted to be one,” Love said in a 1992 Sassy interview. Evidence of her drive can be found in the many notes and to-do lists she kept, some of which are collected in Dirty Blonde. There are reminders to send her acting résumé to agencies, to write three to four new songs a week, to “achieve L.A. visibility.” A scene in the documentary Kurt & Courtney features an ex of Love’s reading from one of her to-do lists, which has “become friends with Michael Stipe” as the number one task to complete (not only did Love do this, but he is her daughter’s godfather). This ambition is not surprising from a woman who, when she was younger, mailed a tape of herself singing to Neil Sedaka in hopes of getting signed. Love knew what she wanted at an early age, and what she wanted was fame.

She was certainly living by the “do not hurt yourself, destroy yourself, mangle yourself to get the football captain. Be the football captain!” motto she championed in the 1995 documentary Not Bad for a Girl. Ambition is often a dirty word when it is used to describe women and Love is no exception. She has been repeatedly described as calculating and controlling when she should be rewarded for her blond ambition and viewed as an inspiration. Critics and the press often call her a gold digger who only married Cobain for fame and money. They fail to mention that when the two met Pretty on the Inside was actually selling more copies than Bleach, Nirvana’s debut album. Even post-Kurt, Love’s intentions were always under scrutiny. On the Today Show to do press for The People vs. Larry Flynt, Love refused to talk about her past drug use, despite the host’s repeated questions, saying the topic was not an appropriate fit for the show’s demographic. She was right, but it didn’t stop a writer from describing the move as “calculating” in a 1998 Spin piece.

Cobain was ambitious too; he was just much slyer and more secretive about it. He was known to call his manager and complain when MTV didn’t play Nirvana’s videos enough, and he would correct journalists who misquoted the band’s sales figures in interviews. While success is typically celebrated and rewarded for men and it certainly was for Cobain, he also had to be mindful of the slacker generation that loved Nirvana and greeted success — and especially mainstream success —

While female celebrities like Love are criticized for their rebellion, male celebrities, like Cobain for example, are celebrated and mythologized for it. Cobain and Love both struggled with addiction, but it is Love who is repeatedly vilified for her drug use. “She was vilified for being a mess, for being a drug addict, for not being a great parent — in other words, all of the things we expect in a male rock star,” said Bust magazine in a piece in the magazine’s 20th anniversary issue, which featured Love on the cover.

We make jokes about the drug antics of male celebrities from Keith Richards to Charlie Sheen, idolizing their debauchery and depravity. The new Netflix/Lifetime movie by Jack Daniels, The Dirt, about Mötley Crüe, takes the band’s excesses to almost comic levels. Check out crazy tourmate Ozzy Osbourne snorting a line of ants by a hotel pool! Such zany antics! I would love to see Lindsay Lohan try to get away with that. We never allow women to live down their arrests and their addictions, but we repeatedly allow men to have a redemption arc. Robert Downey Jr. was in and out of jail and on and off drugs for much of the mid to late ’90s, but we rarely, if ever, talk about his past.

When Love isn’t being attacked for her addiction issues, she is being judged for her parenting. Love’s first unflattering press was “Strange Love,” the much publicized 1992 Vanity Fair profile by Lynn Hirschberg. While the piece talks at length about Love’s drug use and constantly questions her parenting ability, it doesn’t paint Cobain in the same light. “It is appalling to think that she would be taking drugs when she knew she was pregnant,” says one close friend in the piece. Hirschberg relies on many unnamed sources and focuses often on the tabloid-like aspects of Love’s life and addictions. “Courtney has a long history with drugs. She loves Percodans (‘They make me vacuum’), and has dabbled with heroin off and on since she was eighteen, once even snorting it in Room 101 of the Chelsea Hotel, where Nancy Spungen died,” she writes. “Reportedly, Kurt didn’t do much more than drink until he met Courtney.” (Even when it is reported by Kurt and Krist that Kurt tried heroin in 1989, way before Courtney, It was also known that he smoked weed and used caugh syrup to get high in 1989 and 1990.)

This double standard was common in coverage of the couple. In Kurt Cobain: Montage of Heck, the 2015 documentary by Brett Morgen, Love asks her husband, “Why does everyone think you’re the good one and I’m the bad one?” Later in the film we see a scene of Frances Bean’s first haircut. The child sits on Cobain’s lap while Love searches for a comb and scissors. The camera shows Cobain nodding off, and while he maintains that he is just tired, it’s clear he’s not. The scene is painful to watch, especially because those around Cobain carry on like nothing in wrong, giving the feeling this is just like any other day in the Love-Cobain household. The scene is a reminder of how the press treated Cobain’s addiction when he was alive. They just carried on like nothing was wrong, instead directing all their judgement at Love.

[rina-writes]

Mom and Dad

Summary: In the same way that Grayson jokes about being the dad, you are the “mom” friend.  It never occurred to you how strange this was until you and your close friend Grayson are babysitting your cousin and someone actually mistakes you for a family.

Genre/Warnings: Fluffy, Secret Crush, Baby Fever

A/N:  This is a concept I thought of that I forced into a fic.  I’ve been obsessed with 90s aesthetic (particularly film and media and the “grainy” filters) so I am also adding some pictures that inspired me. I don’t own any rights to these pictures and thank you to these beautiful people for inspiring this fic! 

You first met the twins on one of their trips back home to Jersey.  You were visiting a family friend who happened to live near their house.  It was super early in their YouTube careers, so you only knew from your family friend that the boys had dropped out school, moved to LA, and made videos online.  Like most people hearing this, you assumed the Dolans were a privileged family with spoiled kids that only worried about when their next trust fund payment would hit their account.  You were pleasantly surprised when, upon hearing that you were visiting, the Dolan family welcomed you into their home and threw a little barbecue for you and your folks.  Not only were the boys down-to-earth, but they were also kind and easy to be around.  You became fast friends and often spent time together when they came to visit.

It would be a lie to say that they didn’t play a role in you deciding to move to LA for college.  They talked about LA so much, that you always wanted to live there.  The couple times you visited, the twins showed you how much fun sunshine could be, even if you missed the four seasons of the northeast. 

It would also be a lie to say that BOTH the twins were your motivation for wanting to move to the sunny state.  You were a bit partial to the younger, but larger twin, Grayson.  The way you would describe your connection was that you and Ethan were similar, but you and Grayson were compatible. You agreed on the things that mattered, but you and Grayson balanced each other out. Where he was impulsive, you were calculated.  Where you came off aloof, he was gregarious.  You liked to think you brought out the best in each other.  You had a small crush on Grayson, but it was one of those crushes you only felt when you were near to him.  When you were back in school, you didn’t think about him that much.  However, when you hung out at their house or went out to grab a bite, you were completely consumed by him. His hair, his eyes, his laugh, his large hands...everything about him seemed to be crafted by the heavens.  

You didn’t want your feelings to get in the way of your friendship, so you never told anyone how you felt.  Of course, some people figured it out.  Most girls around the Dolan twins fell for either of them. They had that effect on people because they would make you seem like the most important person in the world.  Grayson definitely catered to you more than Ethan. It didn’t help your feelings for him, as you often spent time together doing menial tasks.  That’s why you weren’t entirely surprised when Grayson offered to help you babysit your cousin.  It was a combination of two things Grayson enjoyed: helping people and pretending to be a dad.

Your cousins were visiting you in LA from Jersey.  Your first cousin and his husband recently adopted a toddler named Monica.  While they were excited to have her in their life, you knew that your cousins needed some alone time.  You encouraged them to build a couple’s day full of activities from the spa to dining at an exclusive restaurant.  To ensure they could some of alone time, you would watch Monica for a few hours.  It took quite a bit of convincing, like most new parents, they were attached to their kid. After multiple conversations, and almost begging, you finally convinced them to let you take her out for a fun day in Los Angeles.

You mentioned it casually the night before you were going to pick her up.  You were at dinner with the twins and a few of their friends.  Grayson’s eyes sparkled instantly.

“I can help you with Monica.” He grinned widely.  “We can take her to this new museum for kids.  It’s free entry on Saturday mornings.”

“Why do you know that?” Ethan asked, yelling at his brother despite sitting next to him.

“I saw an article about it...” Grayson yelled back. “Some people read about the news Ethan.”

“O-kay” Ethan put up his hands as he rolled his eyes.  “Trying to show off for Y/N because she’s in college or whatever.  I see you.”

“I’m not...” Grayson said, his voice getting softer as he glanced at you. 

“Well, it works out.” Ethan shrugged.  “You’re such a mom, Y/N.  I can’t get over that Snap! The one where you were tipsy, but still  putting all the girls in your sorority to bed.  You braided that one girl’s hair!”

You blushed as there was a chorus of laughter from the table. “Oh come, on! I’m not a mom, I’m just responsible.”

“It’s okay, Y/N.” Grayson reassured you.  “I have to take care of Ethan all the time.”

Ethan narrowed his eyes at Grayson. “You don’t take care of me...”

Grayson opened his mouth to argue, but you put up a hand to stop him.  Once those two got started, nothing could get them to shut up.

“Tomorrow then?” You smiled, nodding at Grayson.

“Tomorrow!” Grayson confirmed nodding back.  There was a moment where you locked eyes like there was some weird secret between you too, but neither of you seemed to know what it was.  Blushing, you both awkwardly sipped your beverages until someone changed the subject.

When you went to pick Monica up the next morning, you were greeted by big hugs from your cousins. 

“Oh my goodness, Y/N” Your cousin said, looking at you while picking up Monica. In the background, his husband put the final items in Monica’s travel bag.  “Is that your mom’s shirt? I remember her wearing something similar back in the day.”

You laughed and nodded, looking down at the thin, emerald green sweater with four adjacent squares in red, yellow, blue and pink going across the bust. You pulled it down to cover your leggings that stopped at your ankles above your dark slip on shoes. 

“I stole it from the attic.  It’s kind of my style right now.” You grinned.  “Do you like the hat?”

“The beret.” Your cousin’s husband corrected as he leaned over to tilt it to the side. “I believe that was your mother’s too.”

Your cousin and his husband had dated for a long time before getting married.  They practically grew up together, so naturally, your cousin’s husband also knew your family too.  It reminded you a bit of you and Grayson. Except, the dating and married part, of course.

“You got me!” You shrugged, laughing again.  “The lady has great style what can I say?”

“Alright,” Your cousin sighed as he gave Monica a final hug. His husband kissed Monica’s cheek before your cousin handed her to you. 

You took the little girl in your arms.  She had a bit of weight to her, but she was still quite small.  She was close to your complexion, with large eyes and a tiny mouth. She was quiet, constantly observing and didn’t seem to react to anything, not even being handed off to an almost complete stranger.  You made a mental note to make sure she was by your side at all times. 

“You have your pull-ups, your snacks, your wash cloths, your bandaids....” Your cousin tapped the bag on his husband’s shoulder.  “You have it all! Anything you need, do not hesitate to call us.”

“Don’t worry!” You comforted them.  “It’s only six hours.  I’ve babysat for 12 hours and that was for three very....not nice children.  Monica has veteran babysitter with her today.”

“You know we trust you!” Your cousin smiled.  “We just know how much of a doozy it can be to take care of a toddler.  Besides, I think we’re getting a bit of parent separation anxiety.”

You shifted Monica to your hip and reached out for the travel bag. “And she will be back in your arms in six hours! Make sure you are rejuvenated and relaxed when you meet her.”

“Well if you insist...” Your cousin joked, not without taking another longing look at his daughter

“Are you sure you can take both?” Your cousin’s husband asked as he prepared to hand you the travel the bag.  “While she may try to trick you into carrying her everywhere, she can walk.” He added a laugh.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”  You nodded.  Just as you were about to take the bag, you heard a knock on the door.

Given that it was a hotel, the three adults looked at each other with confusion.  Your cousin opened the door to see a nervously smiling Grayson waving at you.

“Sorry I’m late.” Grayson apologized stepping in.  “I didn’t want to take the Porsche so I borrowed a car from one of my editors.  It took longer than I expected.”

“No worries.” You smiled, “But I thought we would meet at the museum?”

“I figured you would need some help.” Grayson grinned. “No sense taking a Uber if I have a car.”

Grayson looked around and upon seeing the travel bag made a soft ‘oh’ sound as he took it from your cousin. 

“Oh, this is Grayson.” You introduced Grayson to your family.

“Is this your boyfriend?” Your cousin’s husband asked after shaking Grayson’s hand.

“No,” You laughed softly, hoping it sounded natural and not panicked/secretly thrilled, “He’s a family friend who lives out here in LA.”

“I’m family, and I don’t remember him being a friend.” Your cousin quirked a brow.

You could see Grayson’s face turning red and you cleared your throat. 

“I think we should get going before the museum is no longer free, huh?” You said, changing the subject before the interrogation continued.

“Ha, good idea!” Grayson said, catching on quickly.

“Be safe you two!” Your cousin called as Grayson held the door for you.  

You smiled as Grayson led you to the car.  He was a little dressed up with a long sleeved white shirt, tucked into his dark jeans with a designer belt.  You were so used to seeing him fully casual with no shirt and the tiniest shorts.  It made your heart melt that he had gotten dressed up for Monica.  

Grayson put Monica’s travel bag in the trunk of the black sedan, before running over to open the door for you.

“Take your time.” You told him.  “We’re in no rush, right Mo?” You asked Monica, who was sucking her thumb and taking in her surroundings.

You eyebrows went up in surprise when you saw a car seat in the back seat.

“Ace Family...” Grayson explained, blushing softly.  “I read that young kids should always have a car seat and I wasn’t sure if your cousin had one.”

“I think she usually just sits in someone’s lap.” You bit your lip.  “But, I’m sure this is way safer.  This is so thoughtful, Grayson!”

Grayson beamed at your words. It warmed your heart when he gave you the large goofy smile.  It was his natural one when he wasn’t posing for pictures or trying to look hot.  The smile that only came out when he was really happy.

You watched as Monica fidgeted in the car seat, making it almost impossible for Grayson to buckle her in.  He started to sweat, the stains appearing under his armpits and you fought back a chuckle.

“Let me try?” You offered.

“Uh sure...” Grayson bashfully moved away, watching you as you distracted Monica with the jingling bracelet on your left wrist while you used your right hand to buckle the first clip.  Monica reached for one of your charms and you took the opportunity to clasp the other belt that finished the part on her waist.

“Hands up!” You said, excitedly, secretly surprised that Monica followed your direction, but also happy she did since Grayson looked so impressed.

You buckled the seat belt that went over her body and leaned back to look at her.

“Feeling good, Monica?” You asked.

She nodded softly, looking off in the distance.

“Give me a wiggle.” And you shook your shoulders.

She glanced at you and mimicked you with the same emotionless expression.

Grayson laughed. “She is actually the cutuest.”

“I know right?” You said, looking at him with your lower lip jutted out, a pout in reaction to her cuteness.

Monica looked between the two of you before turning her attention back to whatever outside the window seemed to be so interesting.  She was probably the most laid back toddler you ever met.  This was going to be easy.

“Should I introduce myself?” Grayson asked nervously.

“Honestly, I should probably introduce myself too.” You laughed.  “She was just kinda handed to me.”

You leaned over to be in front of Monica and she turned slightly to give you her attention.

“Now, I’m Y/N.” You said, putting a hand on your chest.  “We met last year, but you probably don’t remember.”

You put a hand on Grayson’s shoulder.  “This is Grayson.”

Grayson stuck out his hand for a handshake and you sputtered laughter.

“Grayson, she’s three she won’t...”

Monica took Grayson’s hand and he shook, giving you a smug expression.

“You were saying?” Grayson asked making you roll your eyes.

“Okay, okay...” You put your hands up. “You’re pretty good with kids...so far!”

You pointed at him, to emphasize that he hadn’t won you over just yet.  

“You just wait, Y/N.” Grayson said, walking to the driver’s seat. You followed suit, and walked to the passenger seat.

“I’ll be such a good a dad, you’ll be calling me Daddy.” Grayson winked, and glanced at you to see your shocked expression. “Oh good god, not like that.”

You laughed, punching him lightly. “I’m just kidding, Gray. I know what you meant.” 

“Oh sure laugh it up.” Grayson said, rolling his eyes as he started to drive. You glanced at him and the tips of his ears were still red from blushing.  So cute...

When you arrived at the museum, Monica’s personality busted out. She loved the exhibits where she could touch stuff, enjoying the slime the most.  You spent about 45 minutes just watching her sticking her hand in goop.  You and Grayson took turns holding her and helping her make shapes with the material.  You took pictures of Grayson, your heart melting seeing his genuine happiness playing with Monica. Every time she made her little toddler giggle, Grayson’s smile double in size.  You were going to treasure these photos forever.  

“I’m going to the bathroom.” You said to Grayson, who gave a quick nod.

You smiled and walked to the bathroom.  After doing your business, you inspected your face.  You dug into your bag and went to apply lip gloss.  You fixed your hat a few times, still not sure if it really went with your hairstyle.

“Uhm, excuse me?” A woman about your mom’s age alerted you.

“Hi?” You turned around and you eyes widened to see Monica holding the woman’s hand, sucking her thumb.

“Monica...what...” You reached down to pick Monica up and the lady smiled softly. You were about to ask for an explanation, but the lady quickly provided one.

“Your husband said you were in here and your daughter wanted to use the bathroom.  He said you would be the girl fixing her beret in the mirror.”

You blushed and laughed softly.  “My husband, huh?” You shook your head.”Well thank you...”

“Come on, Monica.” You said to Monica who was holding on to your shoulder with her free hand.  “Let’s go potty.”

You helped Monica use the bathroom, realizing that Grayson did not provide you with the travel bag, so you had to clean her up without the fancy wipes and creams you cousins packed. 

With both of your hands washed, you escorted Monica out the bathroom who, the moment she was out, ran to Grayson who was waiting across the hall.  He picked her up and she held on to him, resuming sucking on her finger.

“I forgot you would need this.” Grayson said, gesturing to the bag on his shoulder, while he shifted Monica’s weight to your hip.

“I know, my husband is so silly.” You narrowed your eyes.

“What did you want me to say?” Grayson said, looking around embarrassed.  “Monica started crying all of a sudden saying she couldn’t hold it.  I ran with her to the bathroom, but I couldn’t walk in and I wasn’t going to take her into the guy’s room.  So, I started to explain that you were in there and she was like “Oh I’ll take her to your wife.” I didn’t want to correct her...it felt like a bad time.”

“I’m just relieved that Monica didn’t announce she had two dads.” You laughed.  “Might have been a little awkward to explain with my husband waiting outside the door.”

“Yikes,” Grayson said, making a face. “Though, I am sorry. I didn’t realize it would put you in such a predicament.”

“It’s fine!” You tried to assuage his worries, laughing. “I mean, we’re like 20...it’s her fault for thinking this was our kid. And that we were married. She’s the weirdo”

“I dunno...” Grayson said, looking at the three of you in the reflection of one of the displays. “It’s not the weirdest thing in the world. Being assumed to be married to me?”

You noticed a bit of bite in his tone and you frowned.  “You’re not the problem, Gray.  I’m just saying we are a little young.”

Grayson didn’t say anything to you in response. Instead, he asked Monica if she wanted to go to the dinosaur exhibit again, another favorite of hers.  She started bouncing up and down, and Grayson carried her toward the exhibit.  You scurried to keep up, confused at what you said to tick him off.  When you arrived, you saw there was a show for the kids.  It was one of those shows where there was a “dinosaur expert” and some people in dinosaur costumes explaining each of the species.

Grayson put Monica down in front and went to stand in the back with the other parents.  He was staring straight ahead, pretending to be very invested.  You could tell he was pretending because his eyes were glazing over. 

“G-Gra--” You started to say, but then his phone started to vibrate.

Grayson glanced down and ignored the spam call, showing his background. The background was of you playing with Monica in the slime.  You blushed and pretended not to notice. Suddenly, it made sense why Grayson was so huffy.  You didn’t want to get too excited, because you were still not 100% sure it was true.

“Hey,” You nudged him. “You’re going to be a great dad one day.”

Grayson glanced at you before looking forward. “Thanks...”

“While, I’m not ready to be a 20 year old mom,” You bit your lip, “I would be down to date one of my best friends...”

Grayson whipped his head to stare at you and you smiled. You unlocked your phone to show your wallpaper, a picture of him playing with Monica.

“Huh,” Grayson smirked. “I didn’t realize how creepy that is until I see it on someone else’s phone.”

“It’s only creepy if you’re not dating the person.” You smiled.

Grayson bit his lip and chuckled. “Thank goodness we’re changing that.”

Your eyes widened.  “Are you asking me out?”

“At the dinosaur musical...” Grayson said, gesturing to the stage.  “Of course, the only place where mom friends and dad friends can truly be ourselves.”

You laughed and Grayson continued to scold himself out loud for being the lamest person ever.

“Would it be weird to kiss someone at a dinosaur musical?” You asked, glancing down at the floor.

Grayson tried to hide his smile, but it was stretching across his face too quickly. He cupped your cheek and pecked your lips softly. As he began to pull away, you started to kiss back, keeping you two connected for a few more seconds.

“That was nice...” You said, smiling. “Really nice.”

Grayson put his arm around you and kissed your forehead lightly.  You both turned toward the show and watched for a bit before Grayson leaned in and asked,

“Can we tell E we started dating tomorrow?” He looked away as he continued to speak forcing you to lean in to hear him. “I don’t want him to know I finally made a move at a freaking dinosaur musical.”

You laughed and grabbed the sides of his jaw to turn him to face you. “Maybe, but you’ll have to make it worth my while.”

Grayson gave you a mischievous grin as he leaned down to rest his forehead on yours. His eyes bore into yours causing the heat to rise to your cheeks. You blushed more as Grayson’s voice, suddenly deepening to whisper said,

“Remember that conversation about you calling me Daddy...”

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Chris Reece

(My gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You met Chris after transferring to the all female boarding school. Your new dormmate had insisted you come into town with her and her friends to relax after your first week of classes. Figuring you deserved a bit of a break, you happily accepted her invitation. 

- The night was going perfectly normal until your hang out was invaded by a few of your dormmates male friends who’d coincidentally arrived a little after you did. You suddenly felt a bit awkward as they pulled up more chairs, joining your tables conversation as though they’d been there the entire time. Your discomfort only skyrocketed as the girls and guys excused themselves to go dance. 

- You expected to be left alone at the table but to your surprise, one of the boys hung back with you. He introduced himself as Chris, mentioning that he hadn’t seen you around before and asking you a few friendly questions about yourself. 

- The two of you ended up talking for most of the night, during which he offered to show you around town in response to you saying you had no idea where anything was “around here”. You planned to meet on Sunday before your dormmate returned and informed you that you’d all better head back to school before you got in trouble. 

- Sunday came and the two of you met up early in the afternoon. As promised, he showed you around, taking you to all of the cool hang-out spots and warning you about the bad. Even though you hardly knew him, you couldn’t help but feel as though you were already great friends so when he asked if you’d like to meet up again Wednesday night, you were quick to agree. 

- The two of you continued to spend a lot of time together, genuinely enjoying each others company in a relatively platonic way. I say relatively because, unbeknownst to you, he was beginning to fall head over heels in love. 

 - You’d been friends for about two months when the subject of boyfriends had somehow come up in conversation. It started off with simple questions, things like “we’re you going steady with someone” and “had you dated anyone before”. You sort of thought nothing of it, they didn’t seem pointed just vaguely curious.  Then came the question that started to raise your suspicion.

 “Do you mind if I ask what kind of guys you like?” He asked. He’d said it with enough nonchalance that you didn’t immediately assume there was an ulterior motive behind it. 

“I don’t know,” You laughed. “I guess I’ve never really thought about.” 

“Well I mean, whats your type? ...Tall? Blue eyes? Mature? Understanding?” He questioned quietly, his eyes focusing shyly on his hands while he spoke. Embarrassed, he was adorably embarrassed. 

“You’re not trying to set me up with one of your friends, are you?” You joked. 

“No! No, nothing like that, it’s just.... Well, you see I.... I.” He took a deep breath, his eyes flitting across the room nervously as the tips of his ears turned shade of red. “ ...Uh, I was just wondering if there was... maybe a chance that... well, you...wanted to go out sometime. ...Like on a date....” 

- The look he gave you when you agreed was something akin to that of a person winning a million bucks. 

- Your first date was sort of an amalgamation of things since the two of you had already kind of done everything you could do in town together. You went bowling, visited a pizza place and ended the day off with a trip to an ice cream parlor. 

- Obviously, the two of you had a great time together and even though you hadn’t really thought of him romantically prior to his confession, you couldn’t help but admit, at least to yourself, that you could see yourself dating him. 

- It doesn’t matter when you decide to give him a kiss on the cheek for the first time, just know that it was a magical experience for him. He was reborn; the world around him brightened, the air was fresh, his heart was full. 

- You had your first real kiss about two weeks after your first date. The two of you were kind of taking things slow, testing the waters to see if you should really be a couple or stay friends. 

- So you were stood in the dark of the night, right outside your campus after another lovely date with the boy. You were both semi-stalling, neither of you really wanting to say goodbye. It was then that he looked you deep in the eyes and asked if he could kiss you. 

- This was it, the make or break of your relationship. His lips met yours in a sweet, soft kiss... and then another, and another. He pulled away but only for a moment: to ask if you’d go steady with him. You could feel him smile against your lips as you pulled him into another kiss, and then another with no signs of stopping....

- Chris is extremely fond of pda, any affection from you is like a dream and he can’t help but act all lovey dovey with you no matter where you are. Of course he can respectfully contain himself when he has to but when he doesn’t have to his hands are going to, in some way, be on you at all times. 

- He tends to just call you your first name in public, at least when he’s with his friends or on campus, but the minute you’re alone he’ll call you things like “sweetheart” and “angel”.

- He gives you his class ring when the two of you start to go steady. He loves seeing it glinting on your finger whenever the two of you are together. 

- He likes to sit behind you and wrap both his arms around you in a little hug whenever you’re together.

- He always offers you his coat when it gets cold or, if you have your one, helps you put it on/take it off.

- Before you started dating he’d sneak long glances at you whenever he could but now that you’re together he can finally lovingly stare at you without it being weird. Even so, he’ll often still pretend like he wasn’t watching you whenever you catch him.

- Just so you know: if he see’s you in one of his hoodies there’s a good chance he’s going to attack you with an onslaught of affection. You won’t be able to get him to leave you alone and you’ll spend the whole night lovingly wondering what’s gotten into him. 

- Malt shop dates. Is there anything better than sharing a milkshake with your lover?

- Dancing together. Whenever you’re feeling down, he’ll put on a record and dance around like a fool to make you laugh.

- Going to his games and cheering him on. He puffs up proudly but shyly tries brush off the compliments you give him when he joins back with you. 

- Sitting on one of the benches on campus and having lunch together. 

- Beach dates in the summer time. 

- Board games. 

- Soft kisses. 

- He’s a pretty big fan of cuddling. Anytime you feel like it just snuggle into him and he’ll immediately wrap his arms around you. 

- He has this hidden talent of knowing exactly what you’re feeling and being able to guess why it is you’re feeling that way. It’s both incredibly helpful and mildly irritating. 

- He’s always quick to come to your defense, defending your honor like a true knight in cotton armor.

- Sarcasm. He goes easy on you but you stifle a lot of laughs when you’re with him and his friends. 

- Lip bites that drive you crazy. He may or may not be aware of what it does to you.

- He melts whenever you stroke his hair.

- Reading together or swapping books that you enjoyed. 

- Whenever the two of you are home for the holidays or summer, you’ll go over to his house and spend the day together. Oftentimes you’ll soak up the sun in his backyard, drinking lemonade and listening to the radio. 

- Tv dates. He’s grown particularly fond of the new show “Alfred Hitchcock Presents”. 

- He tends to buy you a flower before each of your dates, he’ll stop at some street vendor on his way over and pick out the prettiest ones he can find. Only the best for you. 

- He always loves talking with and learning new things about you. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside whenever you trust him with some secret of yours. 

- Ranting to each other about school or your different family/friend issues. You had a long talk about the whole David and cheating scandal. 

- He makes a big deal out of your birthday and anniversary every year. What else should be more celebrated then the day the love of his life was born and the day he finally got together with her?

- Whenever the two of you are breaking rules, you always tease each other about him being a prefect. 

“You know, I think it’s my responsibility to escort you directly to your headmaster.” He jokes, picking you up and marching off in the direction of your school as you try your best to stay quiet. 

- His mother insists on getting pictures of the two of you together when you’re with his family. He always gives her one of those embarrassed mommmm’s but secretly he doesn’t mind. 

- Shoulder massages, especially when he’s trying to convince you to do something or reason with you when you’re being stubborn. 

- Baking together, he’s sort of clueless but he tries his best to be helpful; plus: he looks adorable with flour all over himself. 

- Chris loves snow so you bet your ass he’s going to force you to come outside with him. Making snow angels, snowball fights, being tackled onto the cold,soft ground and subsequently wrapped up in his warm arms, it’s all bound to happen at some point and you can’t help but love it.

- This boy is like a heater 90% of the time. If you ever get cold all you have to do is snuggle into him and you’ll warm right up. Believe me, he won’t mind. 

- Cheek kisses, he just lays one on you whenever he feels like ...which is often.

- He compliments you every time he see’s you, he wants you to know that he thinks you’re beautiful. 

- Handholding, the nicest way to prove that you’re together whenever you’re in public. 

- On the outside he may not seem the type but Chris is quite the jealous boyfriend. He has a tendency to glare at boys who act all buddy buddy with you and isn’t above starting a fight when someone gets too close for comfort. Although as a prefect, he has to choose his battles wisely.

- He insists on walking you back to your dorm after dates even though it means he has to make a long trek back to his own.

- He’s very protective of you so he appreciates when you tell him where you’re going to be. He always asks for you to call him when you return to your dorm so that he knows you’re safe.

- You certainly don’t have a lot of fights but there has been a few during the course of your relationship. He’s not too great at articulating his feelings so he tends to just give you the silent treatment without meaning to.

- At some point he’ll be forced to face the issue. He might point fingers and argue fiercely but he rarely raises his voice. You’ll both take some more time to cool off, ignoring each other for a little while before you finally receive a visit from him.

- He has no problem apologizing when he’s wrong, he might even apologize when he isn’t just because he wants this whole thing to be done with. You can never stay mad at him for long.

- He cant stand seeing you cry. It makes him feel sick, his chest tightens and it feels like he can’t breathe right until you’re okay again. 

- “I love you’s” all the time. Most of the time he says it without even thinking about it because, well, he does. He loves you with all his heart so why shouldn’t he say it?

- The two of you have a bright future ahead of you and everyone around you can see that. I advise that you prepare yourself for a proposal once he lands himself a job. 

[broadwayandnetflix]

Domesticity - Richie Tozier x Reader

Warnings: Language (it’s IT)

Theme: Fluff, Angst

Summary: After getting the call from Mike, you and Richie head down to Derry twenty-seven years later. Only this time the two of you are married and have a kid. 

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: I wrote this fic for @80s90steen​ so I sure hope that this request does you justice! I wrote this with a small imagine in mind and am quite pleased with how this turned out. 

A dopey grin firmly planted on your lips, you swayed around your shared apartment with a glass of over-filled red wine in one hand, and a Bluetooth speaker in the other.

Finally, for the first time in weeks, you had some free time, and how did you choose to spend it?

Getting absolutely wasted on boxed wine, while listening to Rihanna’s latest album, wearing your husband’s oversized t-shirt and sweats.

Being a temporary single parent had started to take its toll on you, with your husband being on his comedy tour for the past couple of months. You had assumed that you could keep it together, maintaining your job, enrolling Mason in daycare, and safely keeping your sanity in check.

Except one thing lead to another, and you found yourself crying at your neighbor, Abigail’s door asking her if she could watch your son for the night. Her eyes had glossed over with concern and sympathy while she gladly accepted, leading your son into her house to indulge in a sleepover with her own kids.

So here you were home alone and drunk off your ass on boxed wine, while reruns of Friends played in the background. It was pure bliss.

That was until you got a phone call, glancing towards the television’s digital clock you assumed that it would be Richie. The two of you often checked up on each other after he finished a show, updating each other on either his venues or how Mason was doing.

Except it wasn’t from Richie to your disappointment, yet from a caller ID in Maine. A frown tugging at your lips, you pressed accept, letting the click of the call to go through.

“Y/N?” a voice asked with a familiarity clinging to it that you couldn’t quite place. “It’s Mike.”

Time seemed to stop all at once, Mike’s voice starting to slur and jumble within your conscious, your wine glass now escaping your grasp and smashing to the floor.

Not even noticing Richie slip into the house, bag dropping to the ground, and rushing to wrap his arms around you.

“Shhh, you’re okay, okay?” he cooed quickly, reaching down to pick up your phone and putting it to his ear.

“Mike, it’s Richie, yeah I know this is her phone. Listen, I’ll explain later, yeah, thanks, see ya.” Richie explains quickly into your phone, eyes never leaving your figure while he massaged circles soothingly on your back.

“I forgot,” you whispered shakingly as everything came crashing back.

Richie looking down at you with an expression that you couldn’t quite decipher only nodded in response to your comment before helping you up.

“What does he want, Rich?” you ask quietly already full well knowing the answer.

“He’s back Y/N, Mike never seemed to leave Derry and with reports popping up and the calendar’s lining up. I think we all forgot, except for Mike,” he informs his voice wavering and shoulders sagging immensely.

It had been so long since the two of you had seen each other, and you had dreamed of the day that he’d come back home. Except you didn’t quite see it panning out to be like this.

“Fuck, Richie, it’s been way too long.” you murmur before wrapping yourself tightly into his arms.

“I know, babe, fuck, I’ve missed you so much.”

His taller figure entangling itself with your smaller frame, as he kisses the top of your head, pulling you closer to him.

“Where’s Mason?” it starts off as a faded question until he pulls himself away from you, looking around your living room.

“At Abigail’s,” you reply, eyeing the front door and then back towards him.

His eyes widen in confusion. “I needed some time off, it’s not easy without you here,” you admit.

His gaze softening, mouth gaping open to reply before you cut him off with a quick kiss, pulling away just as quickly.

“We leave when exactly?” you ask quietly.

“Tomorrow night,” he clears his throat, “I called my parents so they can look after Mason for us.”

You simply nod before pulling him back into your arms, the two of you trying to savor the moment as long as you possibly could.

-

“Oh, how I’ve missed you! Yes, I did, yes I did!” Richie’s voice exclaims, as he playfully lifts your son up into the air. Mason giggling at the endeavor, flashing his father a big tooth-less grin.

Moments like these almost made you forget how shitty this whole situation was, as the three of you endured the eight-hour drive to your hometown.

Of course, driving with a two-year-old had its ups and downs, but for the current moment, Mason was quite the angel. (Knock on wood)

You could tell that Richie had been harboring a sense of guilt from his absence in the family. The regret and insecurities that he so desperately tried to hide from you practically hung around him like a cloak. No matter what you said to change his mind wasn’t going to cut it, his stubborn personality had never left him since childhood.

You gripped the steering wheel and refocused your gaze on the road, blocking out the random 90’s songs in the background and your husband’s whispers and coddles. Ultimately focusing on how this whole phenomenon started up again, how you and Richie managed to tangle up into each other’s lives again.

-

2011, New York City

How you ended up in a comedy bar in Manhattan past eleven was beyond you. You and a couple of your friends had initially planned to spend the night at a new restaurant that had just opened up. Instead, half tipsy, and giddy the four of you had stumbled into a nearby comedy club.

You surprisingly were soberer than most as you were the single one of the bunch. No guy ever seems to meet your expectations or fulfill what you had longed to find for so long. All of your friends wedded and knocked up with litters of little ones that often became a recurring subject during your times together.

Caroline, one of your closest friends, led the lot of you into a row of empty chairs, as you all plopped yourselves down. At the current moment, you were watching a woman who seemed to be finishing her act. Her stand up appeared to be funny, but you had entered too late to really get any gist of her persona.

A quick vibrate of your phone got your attention as you quickly looked down, not noticing the next performer that would take the stand.

“Hi, I’m Richie Tozier-“you looked up, not even paying attention to the words that were spilling out of his mouth.

All you could focus on was him. The boy, (or now man you guess) that you had spent practically your entire adolescence crushing on. The same boy who would make the shittiest jokes and tease you mercilessly. The boy who made your heart twirl and whirl, the boy who would sneak you back into the hidden shed and kiss you until you couldn’t breathe. Or the boy that you left behind for college, the boy who broke your heart with his sweet words and gentle goodbyes.

You forgot, you genuinely forgot him, and you couldn’t breathe, he was right there in front of you. Of course, he became a comedian, of fucking course he did, which prompted you to giggle like a fool.

“What’s so funny?” Georgia smirks as she leans over to get a better look at you.

“Nothing,” you reply back nonchalantly, trying to hide the growing grin upon your expression.

After the show finished and your friends were calling cabs home something inside you made you stay put. It didn’t take long for him to make an appearance; his figure now slumped over a barstool drinking some exotic drink.

You couldn’t stop yourself from trailing over to him, trying to keep a straight face. A god damn fool, that’s what you were, but just like back then, he looked so tempting.

“Is this seat taken?” you ask quietly, he shook his head his gaze not seeming to leave his glass. A sigh escapes your lips, you wave a bartender over asking for a glass of wine.

The glass sliding across the countertop seeming to gather his attention, his eyes now on you. They squint at first, taking you all in. He shakes his head in disbelief, looking back down before looking back up again. You can’t help but grin at his little display of remembrance, he was just as you left him if you excuse the grown part.

“Y/L/N?” he whispers in awe, eyes widening once you nod. “You just saw that? Holy fucking shit, is that really you? You look fucking gorgeous, I don’t even-“He practically shouts instantly, gaining the attention of everyone else left within the joint.

You chuckle softly, smiling ever so brightly towards his antics, looking down briefly to hide your blush.

“Hey, Rich,” you whisper softly before leaning forward to wrap your arms around him. “We’ve got some catching up to do.”

-

Present Day, 2016

“Whatcha thinking about?” Richie asks, breaking you of your thoughts.

You glance over at him quickly to see Mason fast asleep within his car seat, and Richie, map in hand, peering over at you.

“Us.” you murmur with a faraway smile.

“Uh oh,” he teases, raising his eyes brows towards you suggestively.

“Oh, stop!” you giggle before looking back down at your maps app on your phone. Derry getting closer and closer, now only two hours away.

“You know what I just realized?” Richie mentions abruptly, map down on his lap and hands nervously playing with his seatbelt.

You hum in acknowledgment for him to continue.

“That none of the others know that we got married and have a kid,” he quips. “I mean, that’s like news, right?”

You guffaw at the realization and glance in your mirror to see your son still curled up sleeping soundly.

This was going to be interesting.

-

Derry, Maine 2016

After a slight compromise between the two of you, you had decided to bring Mason with you to the restaurant. Only for a short amount of time so you could safely reach the Tozier’s house and get a reasonable hour of sleep.

You stood outside the restaurant with Mason in Richie’s arms, and a bag full of his necessities within yours.

How the hell were you going to introduce a two-year-old to the raunchiest group of people that you know?

“Babe, we’ve been through much worse. I’m pretty sure we can handle the Loser’s Club.” Richie teases before nudging you in the side affectionately, walking forward to the door to let the night fully begin.

-

Despite your insanely early arrival, you guys surprisingly weren’t the first ones there. Mike occupying the reserved table set out for you, instantly standing up to greet you.

You could see the realization hit him slowly at first and then all at once. His gaze flickering between you and Richie and then dead centering on Mason. A small smile growing by the second once he understood.

“Don’t tell me that you two actually stuck it out together?!” Mike exclaims in realization. “I mean holy shit, Tozier really got the girl.” he murmurs with disbelief.

“What you don’t think I’ve got the charm? I certainly captured Y/N’s attention when we’re kids, hell, she was practically drooling over me.” he teases with a playful glint in his eyes, only to have it wiped away after a quick swipe to the side.

“Ow!”

“Nah, he’s just the same old same old, Mike, he’s just surprisingly a good father.” you stare while you place your stuff down before taking Mason from Richie’s arms.

“She says as she proceeds to take the child out of my arms,” he smirks, mouthing something to Mike that you couldn’t decipher.

“Oh yeah, how rude am I? I completely forgot to introduce you guys,” you stammer turn towards Mike. “This is our son Mason, he just turned two a couple weeks ago actually.”

“I figured,” he glimmers with a newfound sense of adoration towards Mason, “He really does look just like you guys, it’s crazy how time flies.”

Mason now scooped up within your arms, eyes big as saucers towards Mike. His whole body softening at the sight of him, bending down to Mason’s level to make funny faces.

Your heart practically melting at the scene, maybe this night wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Oh no, don’t tell me Y/L/N got knocked up!” An all too familiar voice rings out from behind you.

You spoke too soon.

Eddie Kasprack. Rivaling your husband, easily one of the biggest clowns you have ever met. You can’t even fight the grin that is beaming upon your expression, which is practically mirroring his. That is until he completely drops his attention down towards your son.

“Okay, like babies are not my thing, but if this isn’t the cutest little guy in the whole world.” He cooed sweetly, instantly warming your heart.

“I’m going to take that as a compliment, you heard it here first guys,” Richie announces further, causing Eddie’s eyes to widen even more than you thought they could.

“Who invited this asshole-oh shit? I can’t curse in front of the child,” Eddie blurts out, causing both of you and Richie to crack up instantly.

“Wait, am I seeing this correctly?” his gaze flickering back and forth between the three of you. “Are you two like a thing, and is this like your thing?” Eddie asks, deadpanning at the realization. “Mike, oh hey Mike, did you know about this?” his speech going like thirty miles a minute.

“Like three minutes before you did,”

“Damn.” he mouths silently.

“How are you still a train wreck, you had like twenty-seven years to mature?” Richie blurts out, gathering the focus of everyone in the group.

“Okay, if it weren’t for your child like an inch in front of us, it would over for you bucko,” Eddie taunts before focusing on something behind you.

“This is going to be such a long night, and I literally just got here.” Beverly groans as she walks into the room, Ben trailing at her heels.

-

After everyone got situated, including a very late Bill, the rhythm of the dinner began to flow very nicely. Of course, your little family being one of the main topic’s it was still nice getting to catch up.

Getting intel on how everyone’s lives turned out, learning about how Bill became a bestselling author, Beverly’s and Eddie’s side businesses, and how Ben became an architect. Each profession seeming to fit each person’s persona like a puzzle piece, something that seemed just right for each one.

It was remarkable at how calm your child could be at times; Mason was, if anything, one of the most low maintenance toddlers that you had ever met. That didn’t escape the whole ‘terrible two’s’ facade that you most definitely endured, which definitely was not fun. The patience, however, that the other’s gave you and Richie when needed with Mason was so emotionally reassuring.

In fact, Mason practically brought a whole different side to everyone. When your son babbled on with incoherent sentences during dinner, Eddie would be quick to join in and converse with him. When your son needed a diaper change, Beverly quickly swept in without much thought and offered. Or when you feared slightly that your son would get emotional, Ben played little games to distract him across the table.

The whole ordeal made you two ridiculously happy, you’d often find Richie’s hand intertwining with yours under the table at certain times. More often than not, you’d catch him glancing down at you with a loving smile.

You and Richie listening intently to each story that was shared between the lot of you, and how everyone had gotten hitched. You could tell that not everyone was entirely pleased with their spouses, but after a few glasses of wine, more stories had been shared.

“So when exactly did you two tie the knot?” Bill asks curiously from across the table as he bites into a piece of chicken.

Richie taking a drink of his water, pausing to look over at you, practically beaming at the memory.

“Well, this one found me one night in a comedy bar in like 2011 was it?” you nodded, “Yeah, I’d say we hit it off pretty quickly, but we didn’t get married until two years later,” he remarks.

“He definitely proposed in the worst way possible, dumbass put the ring in a cake, and I practically choked on it,” you add in quickly with a smirk.

“I thought it was romantic! I didn’t know you were going to almost swallow it!” Richie argues back just as fast.

“I really guess nothing has changed, Tozier didn’t have charm back then, and he most certainly doesn’t have it now.” Eddie comments, earning a collective chuckle from the group, including you.

“Wow, I guess I’ll see myself out. My own wife against me, Y/N, I expected more from you.” Richie feigns, smiling widely when he causes you to break out in a fit of giggles.

“You guys might be absolute dorks, but you do know how to create absolutely adorable children,” Beverly admits in response to your son as he plays with the Cheerios that you had brought for him.

“Why thank you,” you gleam in response, your gaze never leaving your son. “I do think; however, we should get going soon; it is past this little guy’s bedtime,” you admit.

Richie nods quickly in agreement, “Listen, he may seem cute now, but you guys do not want to deal with him when he’s sleepy.” he murmurs, followed by an exhausted look for added effect.

-

After a collective goodbye from the group that you’d meet up with later tonight at the townhouse, the three of you head out towards Richie’s parent’s house.

Richie now driving as you sit with Mason on the passenger side, not ready to part with him just yet. This whole trip to Derry and the underlying meanings of while you were all here, it pained you to leave your son somewhere you couldn’t see him.

So much so that you had become a little bit of emotional mess on the ride there, hugging your son just a little bit too tightly.

“I love you, babe, but please don’t suffocate our child to death.” Richie teases, causing you yelp loosening your hold on Mason.

“I’m glad though that everyone was so understanding towards Mason,” Richie hums, turning on his turn single before pulling into the development. “I think we made the smart decision in taking him here. They’d be too distracted by our child,” he states quietly.

Nodding in agreement, you wordlessly hand your son’s bag of necessities over to him. His eyes never leaving yours, softening at the sight of seeing you upset.

The two of you saying your goodbye’s to your son for the time being, and thanking Richie’s parents profusely. You and Richie making your way back to the car, Richie sliding into the driver’s side and you into the passenger’s once more.

The silence stretches out between the two of you, the only noise filling the car is the air conditioner and staticky music. You let yourself lay your head on Richie’s shoulder, tears streaming down your cheeks. His arms enveloping around yours, pulling you closer to him, whispering reassuring comments in your ear.

“We’ll get through this love, we always do.” a quick kiss to the forward he stays there until you pull away.

“Okay.” you sniffle as the two of you drive off in sight of a long journey ahead of you.

[birdwonder]

Hi! I've been watching Brooklyn 9-9 and I just had a thought: a detective!reader who's like Jake Peralta 80-90% of the time (and who's also a stand-user) with Bruno. Maybe reader helped him when he was injured but didn't know that he's a part of mafia but then boom, they meet again when reader went undercover maybe, so reader is just ":0!!!" Sorry if it's weird, have a nice day/night!

|| so sorry this took so long ! i tried to watch some Jake Peralta scenes to help me since i haven’t watched Brooklyn 99 before but i didn’t really capture his character at all. the mood of this story is like. entirely different from the request and i didn’t add the stand user part bc i forgot- sorry!  it was meant to be better but somehow my tab deleted with my first version of the story. :,) honestly i’d be happy to try again for a more light hearted story if you want to request again!

Bruno Bucciarati | Second Meetings

“Truth be told, I never wanted us meeting like this,” he confessed, wine glass in hand while he purposefully turned it in circular motions to watch the red liquid swirl. It was like you - rouge lips, red dress and the perfect pair of heels to match.

“Honestly, I didn’t think we’d meet again.” You laughed softly, your own wine glass empty and placed on the balcony’s fence. The moon was full and the night was far from cloudy. A perfect excuse not to look at him, not yet at least. Let it all sink in first.

You had waited endless days, months and almost a year to be given an assignment as important as this; the amount pleading and begging you had done was unmeasurable. Of course this is what you wanted, ever since you become an official rookie cop. No - ever since you were old enough to realise the truths of the country you lived in.

Here, the weak are preyed on and the wealthy get away with it all. Street thugs to Mafia members go unpunished while others suffer for their wrong doings, and it’s the furthest thing from fair. That’s why you committed not only your heart but every moment of your life training to become the person you are now, a police officer who can at the very least help a town become a safer place for everyone who lives in it and visits.

Still, you never expected to be in a situation like this.

When you had asked your boss to give you a more important task outside of street patrol and parking ticket duty, you were expecting to be sent to do arrests and investigate some crime scenes, but you were sent on the cheesiest mission in the world. None of your coworkers even expected it, seeing you - the woman who sent the whole station into a riot on your first day just by cracking a couple of jokes - in a dress that showed more than what a modest person could imagine.

The plan was to investigate the members attending a party that only the ‘underground’ members of society could attend, try to overhear any plans, find out the statuses of some mafioso’s and if you were lucky, talk to a Capo. Gain their trust and let them have something slip. You just had to be careful they you weren’t found out and killed. They were the sort of men and women who were merciless when outsiders tried to interfere with their business and you being a cop wouldn’t help at all.

When you entered the party hall, well decorated and filled, you instantly knew this was going to be harder than it initially seemed. ‘There’s no way I could find out anything just by asking questions, it’s too suspicious. I’ll just drink and blend in until I can strike up casual conversation,’ you explained to yourself as you approached a silk covered table, glasses filled with all sorts of beverages on top.

Wine seemed like a good choice, you weren't much of a drinker at all but whatever calmed the nerves! If it did at all. Again, you weren’t much of a drinker. You threw your head back as your lips pressed against the rim of the glass and downed all of what the glass contained in seconds - the flavour barely hitting your tongue and the drink simply running down your throat. Something fizzy was definitely better.

A low, impressed whistle was then let out, followed with a few claps and a voice, “impressive. I can’t say I’ve seen anyone here finish a drink as fast as you have!”

That was the start of leading you to your current predicament.

“You still have that middle aged woman hair cut I see.” Light teasing, nothing truly offensive and even he chuckled a little, head shaking at your comment. You had described it just like that when you first met, insulting him at first until you apologised sincerely and cracked some self deprecating joke about your own messy hair.

His lips held onto the rim of the glass and slowly the wine was disappearing. He seemed calm and relaxed but even he would be a bit on edge in a situation like this.

Bruno knew you were a cop, a truly good hearted one at that, you had told him about it the day you met and proved it through your conversation and actions alone. That was the problem however, being a police officer while he was the Capo you were looking for. It was a tragedy you two met again like this, and he knew you couldn’t leave this place without something to help the police force. You just had to help others in some way. He didn’t know many people who would help him out in a situation like the last.

It must have been a month ago, more or less, and he had fallen by your doorstep due to exhaustion from who knows what; he never told you after all. You never asked questions though. When he awakened, you can imagine his surprise to find himself in a stranger’s home with a woman only feet away, humming to herself as she prepared a meal. That was one of the more noticeable things about your home, how close everything was together.

“Where am I?” He asked out loud, knowing that keeping a level head would be the better option instead of panicking right off that bat. Thankfully, it had caught your attention and you rushed to his side immediately, checking to see if he was alright before explaining to him how he had passed out in front of your home. It was confusing but the pieces came together quickly. Right before blacking out, Bruno was going against a stand user who was trying to climb the ranks of the mafia and though he had succeeded in winning, the exhaustion of the battle had gotten to him too quick to comprehend.

“Name’s [F/N] by the way, I’m a cop so don’t worry about me doing anything shifty while you were asleep! Your outfit’s a bit too whack to touch anyways.”

It was just his luck that a police officer was the one who had helped him.

Still, he was grateful and even more so when you started offering him the food you were making.

“I’m Bruno, a pleasure Miss [F/N].” Better not use last names.

When you parted ways, you jokingly pouted at him, “need to go so soon? I was just about to get used to you being my new room mate, bob cut.”

“How sweet you of, perhaps I’ll be seeing you later,” he laughed, detesting the nickname while simultaneously appreciating your light-hearted and humorous nature.

“I hope that’s more of a promise than a farewell!”

Luck wasn’t kind to him again. Seeing you here like this was a curse, a mistake, anything that he could easily say was the cause of the small break in his heart. It was wrong to even feel that pain, you didn’t deserve a gangsta. Not when you were so purely justice driven.

“So you really are a capo, hm?” You didn't sound angry nor disgusted. More detached if anything, which you were. You wanted to let go of this reality and assume this was a dream mixed with a nightmare.

Now two empty glasses resided on the balcony, along with two young adults who just didn’t know where to go from here, Bruno only nodding in response to your question.

A small sigh left your lips, shaky from either the cold whipping against your exposed skin to which you tried to cover by crossing your arms, or from the nerves. “You’re not going to um-“ Noticing your shivering, Bruno had moved closer beside you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer towards him so that he could shield you from the wind. Not entirely effective but the gesture threw you off from the horrific question you were going to ask.

He answered anyways. “Kill you? No, no, I don’t even think about hurting those you don’t deserve it. [F/N], you’re a good person. A sweet one who shouldn’t be risking herself by coming here and yet you have. I respect you far more than I show - you have to leave soon before someone notices you.”

You shook your head in response to that. You couldn’t leave! Not yet, not when you barely had any information to report. You had gotten this far, you just had to find something good, something worth knowing. “Bruno I can’t! I have to stay, just for a bit longer!”

“And risk someone finding you out?” He sounded harsh, just for a second. He softened once he noticed your worry. “I’m sorry, but you can’t just risk yourself like that. I’m going to get you out of here.”

“Bruno…”

“If it helps. Some people have been talking about terrorising the main street in a week’s time. Scare off the locals and rob what they can before anyone tries to stop them so,”

“Beef up the patrol there and we should be good,” you finished for him. It wasn’t exactly ‘take down the mafia’ intel but the fact you were alive was a miracle. “Thank you. I- I’m glad there’s at least some good in gangs, even if you seem like you’d be a better cop.” Your smile was thanks enough to him. How unfair of the moon to highlight your face like an angel’s when he should be telling it ‘goodbye.’

“Call us even, for last time.” His arm around your shoulders then lowered to be around your waist, guiding you away from the balcony and back inside, voice much lower now. “Let’s get you out of here now, if anyone asks I’ll just say you were my date who had to leave early.”

You giggled at that, “your ‘date’?”

“Hey, it makes for a good story. Plus, it makes me look good too, having a beauty like you on my side.”

Neither of you should be joking like this, the attachment was wrong. It wasn’t stopping you though, the two of you continuing to chortle at each other’s words. Quipping back, you teased him, “I don’t know if they’ll know which of us is meant to be the woman here, bob cut.”

When you were by the exit, you two made the mistake of looking into each other’s eyes, you taking a moment to appreciate his blue orbs and him doing the same with your own.

Pulling away from each other’s gaze was harder than you thought it would be. You tried to play it off by snapping your head to the side and faked a cough. “So I guess it’s goodbye again now, right?”

Bruno was looking elsewhere too. He seemed more interested in a potted plant or the wall when really he could only think of you. “Well, for now maybe. If we’re lucky, I’ll be seeing you soon.”

Was this excitement? Compose yourself, [F/N]! You were still on the job. “Make it next Friday soon, you know where to find me.” So much for composure, you were smiling.

“It’s a date.”

[bltngames]

SAGE 2020: The Usual Suspects

Hi, folks! Back when I used to work at TSSZ a lot of people really enjoyed reading my articles where I’d talk about various games at the Sonic Amateur Games Expo (SAGE), and I’ve gotten more requests in the last month and a half to continue doing those types of articles than I think I’ve ever gotten about anything else I’ve ever done before. So, here we are!

But I also need to be real with you: there are a lot of games at SAGE. It was exhausting enough when there were 70, 80, or even 90 games. Heck, the one year I wrote about 85-something games by myself, I sort of felt like I was going to die. This year, there are over 220 games at SAGE. It is physically and emotionally impossible for me to talk about everything, and it may even be impossible for me to play everything. Things will fall through the cracks. Most things, probably. Though I am responsible for basically inventing SAGE 20 years ago, I am also a human. I have my limits, and I am sorry it has to be this way.

Structurally, we’re going to be doing things a little bit differently, and you should expect this to be a little fast and loose. Since I’m not talking about every single game on the show floor, articles are going to be broken up into types:

“Usual Suspects” will be for games that either appeared at previous SAGEs or that I’m at least aware of.

“Fan Games” should be obvious, and it’s whatever doesn’t fall under Usual Suspects.

“Indies” is the same deal, but for original games.

And finally, there will be a “Honorable Mentions” article for whatever random leftovers I don’t cover in the first three articles. Looking forward to me talking about your game, but I don’t mention it? Tell me about it and maybe it’ll end up here.

Without any more delay, let’s talk about those Usual Suspects...

Sonic GT

Sonic GT has always been kind of a difficult game to control, but usually it just took a little bit of getting used to. There was always a period of adjustment, where you had to learn the game’s quirks. But, over time, I feel like the game is also just getting… quirkier. Every time I come back to this, I slam head first into the Sonic GT’s learning curve, and it always feels just a little bit steeper. This is one of those games that tries to fit a lot of abilities into a tiny amount of buttons. It works, but it feels like you have to memorize an operator’s manual. It’s all about figuring out which button to hold when to get what state. But, man… when it clicks into place, it’s still kind of magic. And, at the very least, the levels have all been reworked to take better advantage of Sonic’s high-flying, death-defying acrobatics. You’ve just got to be willing to learn. The real downside of this new version is the inclusion of a proper story mode -- I don’t have anything against having cutscenes in your game or whatever, but for the purposes of reviewing these games, some ability to fast forward through the talking heads so I could get back to the gameplay would’ve been nice. You can skip ahead in cutscenes you’ve already watched, but that doesn’t help when it’s your first time through. Oh well. So it goes. (Update: in the process of getting this article posted, Sonic GT has been patched to make cutscenes always skippable.)

Project SXU (Sonic X-treme Unity)

Another year, another Sonic X-treme recreation. This one’s interesting because it seems to be the most “complete” yet, offering the four most famous levels: Jade Gully, Crystal Frost, Red Sands and Death Egg. Intentionally or unintentionally, this also seems to replicate quite a few quirks we’ve seen in Sonic X-treme’s controls in the videos that have been released of the in-development build. Which means that it, uh, kind of sucks to play. I realize that’s kind of rude, but I’m sort of allowed to say that. 15 years ago, I was basically the only person on the internet that cared what happened to Sonic X-treme, so... I started contacting developers, starting with the game's producer, Mike Wallis. He lead us to Chris Senn, and that broke the dam on information about this game. Now, I don’t claim ownership over everything that came out of this, I’m simply saying I was the one who got the ball rolling. I watched the mystery of Sonic X-treme slowly get uncovered with as much intent as one could possibly have. It is a fascinating piece of lost media, but as a game… well, I think it got canceled for a reason. SXU shows us a clear vision of that, with a game that’s disorienting to look at and hard to control. Heck, if you’re using a controller, you can’t even use the analog stick -- you have to use a d-pad, leading to controls that feel frustratingly twitchy. But that's true to the experience. I probably spent almost as long in this demo accidentally slipping into bottomless pits as I did exploring its levels. Again, this more or less feels accurate to what we’ve seen in videos, though I do think Sonic probably feels a little too sensitive, here. Regardless, it’s still absolutely fascinating.

“Sonic Infinity Engine” Games

I’m cheating a little bit, here. This is technically three entries, but it’s in “Usual Suspects” because there’s been Infinity Engine games at SAGE for a few years now. Listen, it’s my site, my rules, and we’re playing fast and loose, baby!

Adventure Pack 2

This claims to be a “pack” of multiple levels, but the one level I played went on for over 25 minutes without showing any signs of ending. The level is… well, it’s the kind of stuff we’ve seen at SAGE for years and years and years, a space previously occupied by SonicGDK and BlitzSonic before it, where somebody is clearly starting out learning 3D level design, has some prefab assets, and goes to town creating a huge, intricate environment… that doesn’t fit a Sonic game at all. Too many tight spaces, too much enemy spam, and too much labyrinthine pacing. This is “Sonic Visits Anor Londo,” and while it looks interesting visually, it’s easy to get lost, or worse, killed because something isn’t functioning right. Like a lot of Infinity Engine stuff, it’s a bit hit or miss.... And now, also cramped.

Infinity+ Colorful Combat

The primary goal of this seems to be to update the Infinity Engine with extra features, something that I think is pretty welcome. The Infinity Engine is okay, but it’s missing a little bit of polish that the original developer neglected to give it before abandoning the project. This helps tighten some of that stuff up, while also introducing Wisp powers and more playable characters. Some of the new characters could still use some work, yet, but given the project is still in active development, that’s pretty much a guarantee. This could end up being the defacto version of the Sonic Infinity Engine.

Sonic Reforge: Red Ridge (Blockout)

This is what’s called a “Grey Box.” Rather than build out a fully-detailed level, you get a rough estimate on how the stage will flow before you put all the graphics in. What’s here is okay, I guess, but the level loops back on itself in ways that can be kind of confusing. There are a few places where it’s not really clear where you’re supposed to go next, and I spent several minutes running in circles. I’m also not a huge fan of the changes to Infinity’s physics; jumping off of ramps is a key part of the Sonic experience, but there are several places here where that doesn’t work -- to get the height needed to progress, you just need to roll really fast. It works, but it doesn’t feel like the Sonic I’m familiar with.

Sonic World DX

I have a bit of history with this game. Or, well, with a different version of this game. I wasn’t kind to some of the original entries at SAGE many years ago, but over time, they’ve cleaned the game up and streamlined it a fair amount. Now we have the “DX” release, a further cleanup effort splintered off from the main project, but to be honest, I’m not entirely sure what’s different from the previous release. The main version of Sonic World supports an absolutely gargantuan amount of content, with 50 playable characters and at least that many levels. It was big, and weird, and impressive. This demo ships with three or four playable characters and eight stages. Beyond that, there’s not much else to say -- it’s still Sonic World, though this release doesn’t work right with my controller. It picks up the controller binds from the main version of Sonic World, correctly assuming I’m using a DualShock 4, but none of the buttons are correct. When it asks me to press the X button, I have to press Circle for it to properly register. Not only that, but the right stick camera control is completely broken. Switching to an Xbox controller fixes the camera issues, but now the face buttons have the opposite problem: when it asks me to press A to jump, I have to press X. Throws my whole vibe off, like wearing your shoes on the wrong feet. The menus are bizarre, too -- while adjusting the volume, you can’t push left or right to adjust the levels, you have to use controller face buttons for some reason. This whole thing feels like I stepped back in time to 2013 in a bad way.

Sonic Freedom

I feel like I’ve been waiting to see a major development from Sonic Freedom for half a decade at this point. The art considerations for this game are no joke, and I do not envy anyone trying to make a proper high-def 2D Sonic game that looks this good. But, well… it’s another year, and there’s not a lot here. It plays fine, I guess -- the controls are decent, at least. The problem is the level design. Does this level even end? I’m not sure. I know previous demos for Sonic Freedom have had more than one level, but the stage you start out in here is a confusing, empty labyrinth with respawning enemies and a finite number of rings. You climb up and up and up, but eventually I reached what felt like a dead end. Visually it will always look incredible, but I’m wondering if it’ll ever actually become a game at any point in the future.

BraSonic 20XX

Here’s a strange blast from the past I wasn’t expecting. BraSonic is an old fangame from probably more than a decade and a half ago. It was so long ago that I can’t even actually remember if I played the old version of the game or not, but I definitely remember the name. What really throws me for a loop playing the 20XX version now is how much it feels like a game from back in the early 2000’s. The artwork, the sound effects, the locations, all of it makes me feel like I’m 19 again. Thankfully, this doesn’t play like a fangame from 2004; physics seem pretty solid, level design flows pretty well, and it generally seems to be fun, weird, and most importantly, unique. There aren’t many fan games here at SAGE that open with their first boss fight being against Sonic the Hedgehog. If you find yourself getting burnt out from so many Sonic fan games feeling same-y, this could be a good change of pace.

Sonic Frenzy Adventure

Maybe it’s the fact that this is the 20th Anniversary of the Sonic Amateur Games Expo, but here’s another very old fangame coming back out of the woodwork for an enhanced modern re-release. This game was a mainstay of the mid-to-late 2000’s SAGE events, after which it disappeared before being finished. Well, maybe it was finished. Again, a lot of this stuff was so, so, so long ago that this poor old man’s memory just can’t recall it. Seeing Frenzy Adventure back warms my heart, though. It’s an old friend in what has proven to be a very challenging year. Admittedly, parts of it still feel a bit mid-2000’s, but I consider those charming quirks. Throwbacks to a simpler era. At the very least, controls have been improved, so it does play better than the old releases did. Good stuff. Glad to see you again, dude.

Sonic Speed Course

This was a game that turned up last year, but in the kerfuffle I didn’t get around to trying it, even though I really wanted to. This is clearly a game inspired by Kirby’s Dream Course, but instead of Nintendo’s pink puffball, we have Sonic and friends. Whereas Kirby gained abilities by bowling through enemies, this adapts a more traditional Sonic gameplay structure of item boxes filled with shields and other powerups. But here’s my deep dark secret: even though I love Kirby’s Dream Course in concept, there’s a part of me that feels an intense hatred for that game. I have distinct memories of renting Kirby’s Dream Course as a kid and getting really far into the game, but trying to play it as an adult I’m baffled at how difficult it is. The main problem I have is that every stroke you take subtracts from your health, meaning you can only hit the ball so many times before you just… die. This makes for a very, very steep learning curve that discourages play and experimentation. Every shot truly, deeply matters and eventually I find myself caught in a death spiral and staring at the game over screen. All of this is replicated in Sonic’s Speed Course, which, much like with Kirby, I find myself drawn to like a moth to the flame -- only to come away feeling dejected and like I’m just not good enough. For fans of Kirby’s Dream Course, this is undoubtedly good news, as this means Sonic Speed Course is faithful to the tone of that game. But I find myself wishing there was a practice mode or something that let me play these courses without the punitive health system, because I’m ready to love them.

Sonic: Triple Trouble 16-Bit

When you write about so many games at SAGE every year, things start to blur together... a lot. I seem to recall that Triple Trouble 16-Bit last year was good, but had room for improvement. Well, this year, this demo feels… really quite good. I’ll admit, I was a little skeptical about remaking this game. Sonic: Triple Trouble was among the first batch of Game Gear games I ever owned as a kid, and while I liked the game, in my adulthood, I feel like I’ve come to appreciate Sonic Chaos more. But so much has been added to this game that it’s really come into its own. It uses Triple Trouble more as a jumping off point to become something fresh and interesting, and on top of that, this demo is pretty polished. This game was kind of always on my radar, but it’s really turning into something special.

Battle Cross Fever

Every year, I download this game hoping for some kind of single player offering, and every year I’m let down. Battle Cross Fever is a fighting game that plays a lot like Smash Bros., but contains elements that pull it closer to traditional fighting games like Street Fighter. It’s the kind of game that can check with the server to make sure you’re playing the latest version, but doesn’t have true online multiplayer -- instead advertising that you should use a piece of screen sharing software like Parsec to accomplish online multiplayer. In their defense, the few times I’ve used Parsec, it’s basically been magic for how well it works. But I just want, like… anything that I can play by myself. Even if it’s just a super basic arcade mode with brain dead AI, anything is better than nothing. But, I suppose, I am an outlier. Judging by the horrific character select music I landed on, Battle Cross Fever has enough of a community that they could get fans to sing along to “Ghost Town” from Sonic Forces -- which is a fun idea, don’t get me wrong, but when you have loud voices over cheap microphones, well… I hope you aren’t wearing headphones like I was. Anyway, this game’s always seemed solid, but I’ve also never played it with another human being, so really, I’m speaking from the perspective of admiring the diverse roster and all of the fun arenas they’ve ported in. Maybe someday it’ll get some single player content.

I’ll be back with another article… uh, eventually. In truth, I was only going to feature five games here, but it ended up being ten, so we’ll see how many are in future articles when we get there!

[valkerymillenia]

Umbrella Academy

season 2, episode 7

More thoughts and live blogged reactions.

1982. I'm assuming Five used a briefcase... But in s1 we saw that the briefcase travels are tracked (Hazel and Cha-Cha got reprimanded for Klaus's Vietnam trip) so I'm not sure how the board doesn't know someone is coming... I might be overthinking.

Five being creepy.

Is that a Fudge Nutter like Handler mentioned in season 1? Oh, it is.

Jesus, Five! Anger management for you, old man.

AAHH! THEY LET FIVE SAY FUCK! Fucking finally! 🤣

How did nobody notice that destruction? 😆

Oh, the axe! Is Five going to go all American psycho? Because I'd love to see that.

HOLY SHIT!

That smile!

HOLY SHIT!!!!!!

Is he using tiny time travel bursts like Reggie said? Or a briefcase? Or is he just that fast?

AJ hiding under the table 😆

Pausing to drink water and grin, what a psycho, I love him.

He's definitely using time jumps but they are so controlled that I'm guessing briefcase or Handler little time stopping trick. I'm so proud of my mass murder baby.

... Vending machine? Lady, you have interesting priorities.

CRICKET BAT!

Wait! AJ's human body feels pain? How?

Please make Five swallow the fish like in the comics! Please, please, please, please.

The dancers are just like

I LOVE FIVE! The lengths this little killer will go for his family are unbelievable, nobody should ever doubt his love and devotion for them ever again.

This whole murder scene was incredible and Five's obvious glee made it even better. FEAR HIM!

Jesus, Klaus is so afraid of being possessed that he's afraid to sleep and Ben just mocks him? 😘💋 I get that this is supposed to be a funny 'brothers messing with each other' kind of thing but Klaus feels so unsafe that it makes me uncomfortable. What happened to you, Ben, when did you become so dark? You were the nice one!

Ben just getting closer and closer every time Klaus closes his eyes just gave me Doctor Who flashbacks.

"I hate your face" "I hate all of you" - Don't say that boys! You know you love each other.

Ok, Ben has a point. I'm actually liking this conversation. And I'm liking that Klaus is starting to understand his brother.

Ok, this is such a brother conversation. And Klaus constantly pretending not to know who Jill is 😆

Ground rules... Well, at least it's consensual now. That's something. See? Communication works.

Damn, the tension at the lunch table cut be cut with a knife. I'm scared what Carl is going to do.

Ray and Allison have a lovely relationship but I finally identified the problem, the tension I was feeling between since them a few eps back. It's not about Allison's secrets at all, is about Ray being so obsessed with his crusade that he completely overlooks Allison's feelings, he only pays attention to her when they are on the page about the mission. He sees her powers and his first thought is 'we could use this for the cause', Allison is clearly distressed and sad and even says she doesn't feel well and all he can think about is the damn JFK meeting. He's not a bad person and he's not doing it on purpose but he has a workaholic one-track mind that could easy turn into neglect for Allison. He clearly loves her and I'm rooting for them so much but I know that if asked to choose between Allison and his cause, he'll pick his cause.

So Five is done with the killing. I figured this might weigh on his conscience, it's one thing to kill for a greater good or survival, coldly and detached, it's another thing to slaughter for selfish reasons (even if his selfish reasons are a greater good).

Handler going all mom on him and wiping his face. 😆

"What I did today, I did for my family" -we know, baby, and they better respect you for it. You love then so much.

90 minutes??? Wtf, I knew Handler would try to screw Five over but that's just cruel, she's forcing him to uproot the family without even giving them time to say goodbye and that's even IF he can get to all of them on time.

It's not a name, you idiots. Also, that's Olga, not öga.

Don't harass the poor woman... Oh God, you guys are such morons... Diego, you dramatic little bitch...

"Wrong number. Have a lovely day" 🤣🤣🤣

I love the new dumbass buddy cop dynamic between Diego and Luther. This is the sort of positive brotherly dynamic they always should have had instead of being pitted against each other all their lives.

"you have some blood on you" "a lot of blood, actually. Five, what did you do?" -the casual, mildly annoyed way they ask is hilarious, if they knew what he did they'd be horrified (and possibly impressed).

Handler's militaristic chic dress is fabulous. I personally don't like it very much (or the message it sends) but it's haute couture and incredibly designed. Also, the bleached hair is back!

"any questions?" And then she leaves without listening. Power move 😏

Luther trying to comfort Diego like the dork he is. 🤣

Really though, I feel bad for Diego, and Five is under so much pressure that I don't blame him for snapping.

"I'm shy" -are you, Klaus? Are you really? You keep walking around in underwear in front of dozens of people, you're not shy.

So is Klaus lactose intolerant?

Ok, so far the possession thing is not as bad as some people were claiming. So far.

"stay focused" *giggle* -oh Ben, you dork 😆

Ahah, Ben enjoying all the different sensory stimuli. Adorable. He's just so happy, poor boy.

Dirt angels. SO CUTE ❤️

I know this all supposed to be cute and all but it would also be a perfect moment for Ben for experience Klaus's powers (the constant hauntings) as well as his addiction and the claustrophobic expectations of the cult. It would be an excellent chance to make Ben understand why Klaus is the way he is, seeing as Klaus is making a huge effort (and sacrifice) to do the same for Ben. Unfortunately, I don't see that happening because I think they want to keep this part about Ben.

By end of season 1 Klaus cried that people still didn't take him seriously, his compassion despite all his suffering made him likeable and deep, but this season he's back to being the family joke, I don't like that there's no resolution to that. But let's see where this goes, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Oh God, Carl's talk is freaking me out.

"who I am is not a disease" -very powerful LGBT+ statement considering it's the 60s!!!!

Oh, the blackmail...

Everybody keeps expecting Vanya to explode every time she gets emotional but this scene proves how much control she truly has. Respect!

Oh, finally Claire is mentioned! I've been rather upset that Allison hasn't mentioned her daughter even once this season (does Ray even know he has a stepdaughter?) seeing as most of her arc in season 1 revolved around her love and guilt over Claire.

Luther is right when he says they don't get live formal lives because they are special but Allison is even more right when she says that's not fair. This is why this family needs to stick together and love each other, they are the only ones that can really understand each other's struggles.

"hope" -Luther, you really are such a sweet summer child.

OH! I CAN FINALLY SEE ALLISON'S SCAR! The lighting in this scene makes it really obvious. Finally.

Ben and the strawberry. 🤣

"you're different today. You're dorkier" ah! First time anyone called Ben 'Sassy' Hargreeves dorky.

Oh Ben, you're adorable... Wait, "smell your hair"? What the fuck, Ben? You weirdo.

Holy crap! Jill is really forward, isn't she? Hippies, man.

Ben stuttering! 😆🤣 He died a virgin, didn't he?

It's funny but please tell me he isn't actually considering that in his brother's body...

Wait, did Klaus slap him because he doesn't want to have sex or because he's trying to stop Ben from ruining his own chance by saying too much?

Actually, I'm almost sure it's the second one, Klaus is playing wingman on his own body!

WHAT????

Ok so Ben IS a virgin but "you, me and Keechie"? What the fuck, Klaus? You slept with the fanatical crybaby and your brother's crush????

"Klaus, you're so filthy!" "Yes, you are, daddy." -Ben, this girl is not right for you. Run, boy!

AHAHAHAH ASDFGDDGGHSGSGASFHDBKDIS 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 DIEGO CALLING HIM DADDY!

Wait, AJ can speak without the body/suit/whatever?

Handler is going a little bit fascist dictator, isn't she?

Gotta admit, Handler really is such a mom in her own twisted way.

Ben giggling when he talks to Diego. Cute.

"Luther sniffs Dad's underwear" 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

AWWWWWWWW, BEN AND DIEGO! THE CHILDHOOD HIJINKS! THE HUG!

GOD, THE HUG! ❤️

I need all the siblings hugging Ben now!

"you stay in this body, we need someone responsible behind the wheel" -Diego, I understand what you mean given the situation, but you playing obvious favorites between your brothers when free will and body autonomy are on the line is a little creepy.

"no one is insignificant" -that line is so loaded when used on Vanya.

Oh no, Vanya and Five playing the blame game is so bad... They used to be so close... They are both under so much pressure, this won't end well.

Oh boy, Five looks like he's on the verge of crying and Vanya sees that! I bet that's why she backed down. 😲😢

The Lila and Diego conversation is heartbreaking without even trying...

Is that Elliot? Is Diego burying Elliot because nobody else will? Diego really does have a heart of gold.

Don't drinkit! I'm pretty sure Lila is drugging you.

Yup, there it is.

What is she planning?

Once again, it's all about the movement with Ray.

"I would take my one year with you over a lifetime with anybody else." 😭 Oh Ray ❤️

But I get the feeling this won't end so easily.

There it is, the Swedes just arrived. And the smart assholes went right for Allison's throat.

You don't need the coffee can, Sissy. The Hargreeves are loaded.

Sissy, hurry up.

BEN, YOU ARE SUCH A 90s KID!!! So the Backstreet Boys are Ben's fault, God, I love this dork 🤣

Come on, Allison, you can fight better than this!

Good girl!

Klaus and Ben running and fighting each other at the same time 😆

Holy shit, that is some Exorcist level vomiting!

Poor Klaus, I totally get Ben's side in this (pretty sure he was trying to save Klaus by getting him to Five ASAP) but this whole thing made me mildly uncomfortable. Klaus just keeps sacrificing for everyone and nobody respects his boundaries.

Holy shit, Allison! That is so cruel! I like it though, so ruthless and vicious. 😈

Problem- Allison can't just leave Ray with a white corpse in the house. Especially not in Texas, death penalty and all.

Oh Sissy, you dumbass. You're a sweetheart but also a dumbass.

Ok, Lila is pretty insane. That's for sure.

Five:

"I don't want to hurt you" - well, Vanya warned them.

My baby is getting really good with her powers.

I hope that hit to the head doesn't give Vanya her memory back, that's so cliché and convenient, or would be really bad writing.

SHIT IS HITTING THE FAN. I'm dying to see more!!!!!!

[aileruaa]

Zeta flash: Dancing?

I actually loved writing this!!! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it hehe

*

Joan had always said Bart had two left feet.

If good dancing was in the Flash family genetics, he got stuck with the recessive genes. Before he was taken away from his parents during the Reach apocalypse, he remembered them slow-dancing in the kitchen to somber love songs from the 80s, only illuminated by the dim, broken-down kitchen lights. And before Joan became sick, she and Jay would put on a vinyl record from time to time and dance in the living room to upbeat swing tunes from the 30s.

Bart always tried, he really did. But every time Joan took a step forward, he’d take two steps back, and he’d end up tripping over his own feet and messing up the rhythm, causing her and Jay to laugh at his expense- all in good nature, of course. To his credit, no one ever taught him how to formally dance; they just assumed he’d pick it up quickly. The only thing that was quick was his realization of his temperament, which wasn’t really suited for learning dance moves; he’d get frustrated and divert his attention elsewhere.

Naturally, Bart had his reservations about dancing. So when he received a flyer for the Winter Ball at school, Bart all but shoved the paper into the depths of his backpack, determined to forget about it until it passed.

*

“Hey, I thought I’d be the first one here.” Bart chirped as he beamed in through the Zeta tube. The Hollywood tower was empty except for Eduardo, who was humming a tuneless song in the kitchen. The Team had agreed to meet up in the tower for a movie night later that evening, but most of them had other things to take care of before getting to the tower.

“Well, you thought wrong. What’s going on?” Ed greeted Bart with a smile, chopping away at a few carrots. He was stuck on dinner duty that night, so he came early to prep the ingredients for his favorite Argentinian dish.

“Nada, amigo. You need any help in the kitchen, though?” Bart asked, distractedly rummaging through his bag to find his homework.

“I don’t think you could help if you wanted to.” Ed replied, tossing the carrots into a giant metal pot. “I still remember the time you burned water ‘cause you left it on the stove for too long.”

“Your loss.” Bart shrugged. He fished a piece of paper out of his backpack, hoping it was his history homework- but it was just the flyer he had buried deep in his backpack earlier. Bart balled up the paper as tight as he could and aimed it at the trashcan. He took a flashy shot but missed, and the crumpled flyer fell at Ed’s feet.

Ed put down his knife to pick up the flyer. He uncrumpled it and examined the colorful invitation to the school dance.

“’You are cordially invited to the annual Central City High School Winter Ball, this Saturday at 8:00 PM.’ You sure you wanna throw this out, hermano?” Ed asked, holding up the piece of paper.

“Eh, just toss it. I don’t need it.” Bart waved his hand carelessly.

“You’re not going?”

“Nah. It’s not my thing.” Bart flopped down on the couch and grabbed the remote, flipping through the channels available.

“Really?” Ed prodded, eyebrow cocked. “I’d think dances are totally your thing. Free food, free drinks, lots of friends.”

Bart turned to face Ed. “Well, yeah. But it’s a dance.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“A formal dance.”

“And?”

“I can’t dance.” Bart admitted. “I’m terrible at it.”

“That’s it?” Ed laughed, drying his hands on a small towel. “Then maybe I can help. I used to take dance lessons back in Argentina.”

“You? You took dance lessons?” Bart asked, incredulous. Ed didn’t really strike him as a dancer.

“Why so surprised? My grandpa made me take lessons as a kid before I came to America, said it’d build character. Besides, Argentinians love dancing, especially the tango.” Ed put his hands on his hips, tilting his head. “So much that we have our own version of it.”

“Dude, I can barely do the macarena. I’d literally fall on my face if I had to do the tango.” Bart shuddered, recalling watching Dancing With the Stars with Joan. The swift leg movements and intimate postures of the tango was too much for Bart, who had zero sense of rhythm and even less patience to learn the moves.

“Well, it takes two to tango, so I don’t think we can start with that even if we wanted to.” Ed chuckled. “I’ll teach you a basic four-step routine that most dances are built on.”

Bart shook his head. “No, it’s okay. Seriously. I’m not gonna go, anyway.”

“Either way, dancing’s a good life skill to have. You never know when the need to dance will arise. It could be a life-or-death situation.” Ed insisted.

“Life-or-death? When will I ever need to dance to save my life?”

“You act like you haven’t been through crazier situations.”

“Good point.”

Ed crossed the room to plant himself in front of Bart so the speedster couldn’t just walk away. At this distance, Bart noticed how much taller Ed was; he barely reached Ed’s nose when he stood up straight.

“It’ll be fun. We gotta wait for the carbonada to boil, anyway.” Ed smiled. Bart sighed. He couldn’t say no to that smile.

“Fine. You win.” He caved.

“Alright, so let’s talk basics.” Ed took Bart’s hands in his. Bart’s heart all but stopped- he knew it was coming but it didn’t make his feelings flutter any less. “In formal dances, there’s usually a guy and a girl, and the guy generally leads. But since we’re both guys, I’ll take the leading role, and I’ll teach you the following role afterwards.” 

“Uh-huh,” Bart choked out. Ed didn’t seem to notice Bart’s flustered response as he guided Bart’s left hand to his shoulder, and placed his own hand gently on Bart’s side. He’d gotten this far with Joan a few times before giving up, so he knew at least this much. But dancing with married 90-year-old Joan was different from dancing with someone he was developing feelings for.

“Alright, now I’ll show you the box step. I’m gonna take a step forward with my left foot. You step back with your right.” Ed instructed, sliding his left foot towards Bart. If stammering with one’s feet was possible, Bart was doing it.

“No, just one step. You just took, like, three steps back.”

Bart took a step back as he was told, looking down at their feet to make sure he was doing it properly. Easy enough for now.

“Good. Now I’m gonna slide my right foot forward so that it’s parallel to my left.” Ed said, going through the motions as he spoke. Bart followed suit. “You basically just have to mirror what I’m doing.”

“Got it.”

“Okay, now I’m gonna take a step back with my right foot, so you step forward with yours. And then I’m gonna bring my left foot back. No, step forward with your left, not your right. And don’t slouch.”

“Oops, my bad.”

Ed tightened his grip ever so slightly on Bart’s side to correct Bart’s posture and steps; whether it was conscious or not, Bart would never know.

“And now we just do those steps, over and over on repeat.” They repeated the simple steps a few more times before Bart stopped tripping over his own feet and getting his feet positions all messed up. A few minutes later, the two were dancing in perfect sync in the living room of the tower, dimly lit by the kitchen’s lighting.

“Hey, you’re doing it!” Ed gave Bart’s hand a squeeze.

“I’m really doing it! This is so crash.” Bart exclaimed, elated by the quick results.

“See? Not so hard, is it?” Ed grinned.

“Yeah. Is there anything Bart Allen can’t do?” Bart joked, still not taking his eyes off the floor.

“Or maybe you just have a good teacher.“ Ed rolled his eyes. “When you get better, you can add a few flairs that’ll change your movements slightly, depending on the dance. But honestly, this is all you need for a school dance.”

“Yup. No fancy steps needed. This is fine.”

“Speaking of which, who are you gonna ask to the Winter Ball?” Ed asked, now that Bart was getting the hang of it.

“Huh?” Bart felt his ears get red- he hadn’t expected Ed to ask him the million dollar question.

“I mean, it’s a dance, so you definitely need to bring a date.” Ed pointed out. Bart froze, realizing that Ed was right- he’d have to bring a date to the dance if he did go. Asking someone wasn’t the problem. The problem was that Ed, the one guy he remotely had an interest in asking to the dance, went to a completely different school across the country and had to work on weekend nights at the Youth Center. But he couldn’t unpack all that- not right then.

“I, uh,” Bart stammered, refusing to look Ed in the eyes. “I-I don’t really, um-“

“Wait, slow down, you’re going too-“

Bart had unconsciously speeded up the pace, throwing the entire momentum off. Ed tried his best to match Bart’s tempo, but his foot ended up snagging on Bart’s ankles. The harmony they established broke down in a matter of seconds, and two tripped over one another to result in Ed landing on top of Bart on the floor.

“-fast.” Ed managed to cushion Bart’s head with his hand and balance himself with his other arm just in time before he made contact with the floor. Bart’s eyes widened and he felt the blood rush to his head, as Ed loomed over him. He was so close that Bart could smell his fading cologne.

“You okay?” Ed asked, voice soft.

Bart snapped out of it.

“Y-yeah. Totally crash. You know what? On second thought, I’ll go to the dance. Yeah. Maybe I can just go to the dance and stuff my face.” Bart blurted, detaching himself from Ed, who looked confused. “I’m gonna go and, uh, do that now.”

He sped out of the living room and back into the Zeta tube, alerting the computer to Zeta him back to Central City so he could cool his head.

“But your dance is on Saturday! And what about movie night with the Team?” Ed called. The room was already empty by the time he finished his sentence, leaving Ed alone with an overflowing pot of carbonada and a slew of mixed feelings growing in his chest.

[ayankun]

Ok, if you haven’t already (I say this to be polite, I know you haven’t) go put your eyes on this episode synopsis first.  Why?  Because it’s a good time.  But mostly because I want you to be tangentially familiar with certain topics so I can better explain what happened to my brain while watching this one.

oh, right, this post is a synopsis of the VR Troopers episode 2x13 “Kaitlin Through the Looking Glass” btw

4

3

2

1

WE

ARE

V

R

Now that you’ve got this far, here’s some housekeeping before we start:

I watched this show sporadically as a kid and have very fond memories of it “being better than Power Rangers” but really didn’t know anything about it at the time.  I am watching it as an adult partly due to nostalgia but mostly because I genuinely enjoy it.  Not necessarily because of the reasons they intended, but, you know.

As an adult, with a different understanding of the world than when I was seven, I willfully misconstrue the main characters as being in a polyamorous relationship.  OT3 baybee

On a similar tangent, Ryan “Trooper TRANSform” Steele is obviously trans.  (transgent??)

Hell, maybe they all are.  The more the merrier amirite.

They all call the Professor “Puhfessor,” so I will, too.

Still with me?  Let’s begin.

(first up, though, the title sequence is over a minute long, when really they only needed like, maybe 15 seconds to get the point across.  there is also a ton of footage used that portrays events that never occur and also the song is not catchy enough to warrant any of this and I love it)

So in Ryan’s flashback intro, he muses about how, as a kid, he felt the need to prove himself.  He expresses this to his dad by asking when he’ll get a black belt, and his dad is a good supportive dad who tells him:

“It’s not the belt that’s important, son,”

Ryan’s dad says trans rights.

Ryan’s VO goes on to say "My dad taught me that it’s not outward appearances that really count, and that was an important lesson that would come in handy time and time again.”

Ryan really loves memories of his dad.

Which I think is a sweet lesson to learn when you’re young and other youngs (and olds) are going to give you crap about how you look, but it’s also hilariously phrased considering how superficial the concept of “outward appearances” is to this episode.

So we jump into things down at the ... Voice Underground Daily idk what the newspaper is called, I’m just trying to read the sign on the wall tbh.  We’re at Kaitlin’s place of business, and Woody (I think his name is Woody LOLOL how many episodes have I seen) shows Kaitlin this front page article which appears to have the headline:

ZIKTOR DEFEATED AT CITY HALL -- NO TOXIC WASTE DUMPING AT CROSS WORLD PARK

Ok, a couple of things.

Kaitlin and Percy are just ... chilling out at the copy machine like they’re friends and this is where the cool kids hang out.

Which can’t possibly be true because the actual cool kids are there in the back, just reading newspapers like Actual Cool Kids do.

They’re an indie paper, right?  How can they afford to print headlines that verbose?  ... Or full color glossy, for that matter

THEY ACCIDENTALLY PLAYED THIS LIKE THEY WERE EXCITED ABOUT THE NEWS ITSELF AND NOT ABOUT KAITLIN DOING A GOOD JOB ON AN IMPORTANT FRONT PAGE PIECE

Environmentalism was No Joke in kids’ media in the 90s.  I specifically remember learning the word “toxic” from a Power Rangers episode where Billy tested the lake water.  I literally had to look it up.

and they say you can’t learn nuffink from tv

Anyway, part of the excitement is that this article is the follow up to an expose of Ziktor, also authored by Kaitlin, which inspired the city officials to veto his waste-dumping proposal.  So we’re proud of Kaitlin for doing a good job at journalism and for protecting the world!

JB does what JB does best and attempts to arrange a date.

The line is, “Hey, let’s celebrate!  With lunch!  At Hamburger Hutch” but I guess someone at Netflix got lazy for a second.

I forgot to mention, in my HC he’s our token ace (as my favorites often are), so he tends to go overboard with the romance.  You don’t have to compensate for anything, JB!

Kaitlin appreciates the gesture.

But then Woody interjects and I let my adult sense of humor get the better of me...

come on, the man’s name is Woody I can’t be the only one with my mind in the gutter can I

Also the line is “I don’t want you boys filling up my star reporter” so what am I supposed to thINK

--WITH JUNK FOOD.  Dodged an FCC bullet there.

So I just now gave it 2 seconds thought and the discrepancies with the subtitles probably have something to do with the expectation that children would be watching this show and can’t read that fast.  BOY DO I NOT FIT THE DEMOGRAPHIC

Ok well.

Where Woody’s going with this is that he wants to impose a health shake on Kaitlin for godknowswhy.  But it’s all good because as he todders off to get started on what will surely be a monstrosity, we get this ADORABLE moment where Kaitlin tries to get JB to come to her rescue.

She just runs up and grabs him.  I’m all a-flutter.

But JB is of no help.  Instead, he calls dibs on her fries.

There’s a weird, under-baked joke going on here that seems to be rooted in the idea that if one is dieting then others benefit from this self-sacrifice by gleefully picking up the slack?  Anyway Kaitlin’s not on a diet?  This vitamin shake angle literally came out of nowhere?  Is against her will???

Just one burger, please.  Protein style :<

et tu, Jeb??

Anyway, this weird exchange just passes the time to get Woody all set up.  He turns on the blender and THE WHOLE WORLD STARTS SHAKING. 

Percy runs over to be the hero, demanding Woody turn the blender off, while everyone else just rumbles around looking distraught and not practicing anything resembling safe earthquake response.  Percy manages to get a hold of the blender, lifting it off the counter, and -- you guessed it -- the lid comes off and purreed-carrot-baby-food-looking goop gets all over his nerdy white button up.

The shaking stops.  Percy’s very proud of himself (and disdainful of the others who didn’t come to his heroic conclusion).  End scene.

I’ll be real.  At this juncture, literally thought that the blender HAD caused a natural disaster, and it was just a wacky 90s gag that went on for far too long.

More on this story as it develops.  We’re moving on.

How many cities in the world do you think have ominous buildings in them that aren’t secret headquarters for supervillains?

Our good buddy Karl Ziktor is reading -- wait for it -- Kaitlin’s article.  It has a headline so long they had to dedicate the full front page for it.  I’m pretty sure that’s not how newspapers are commonly formatted.

That is literally just a couple of newspaper clippings taped to a big piece of paper.

Oh he’s mad.  He tells Juliet all about his evil plan for revenge, which is to “steal her virtual image and create a second Kaitlin Starr [that serves him]”.

Same, Juliet.

Off that yikes, a henchwoman comes in to appraise Ziktor of the status of phase one, which is underway.  A so-called Stingbot is “in the basement of the Underground Voice” so that’s what the paper’s name is, anyway.

Anyway so Stingbot was the one responsible for the earlier tremors.  And, yeah, I mean I know they were new cobbling stories together from old footage, but What The Hell do “sting” and “earthquake” and “outward appearances” have in common?

And that is how a Stingbot do.

My question is partially answered, in that Stingbot’s earthquakes are a distraction so that some skugs can plant the “Virtual Mirror Transmitter” on Kaitlin, which is the nefarious device that will create the aforementioned Kaitlin-2.  Bold of him to assume that just because Kaitlin’s a woman that she 1) carries a purse 2) stores a mini pink mirror in the purse 3) will look at herself in the mirror unprovoked.

It’s such a wildly twentieth-century concept.  Here in good ol’ 2020, I, for one, have not looked in a mirror in months.

Ugh more gross than this use of outdated stereotypes is this weird tongue thing Ziktor does while almost literally salivating after his upcoming revenge.  You’ll have to go see it for yourself, I’m not going to watch it again to cap it.

(This guy gives his 200% to this role, though.  What a legend. RIP Gardner Baldwin)

So Ziktor blue-skadoos into his virtual stronghold and gets an update from his generals.  There’s this new guy that I’ve already also forgotten the name, and since he has a human face, there’s a lot of awkward cuts between him and his Japanese counterpart in the footage that’s already ten years old at the time.  It probably looked great.  I was an adult before I found out that Rita Repulsa was the original Japanese actress in the original dubbed Japanese footage.

Anyway, he looks great.

I think I read that for season 2 they had access to and/or recreated the costumes used in/matching the source material, so there’s a noticeable uptick in cool-looking sets with American actors wearing cool-looking costumes, like this one.

You said it.

That’s about it for this scene, but before we go to commercials, Grimlord says this nonsense:  “I will destroy Kaitlin Starr with the one weapon she cannot defend against -- herself.”

Confirmed: Kaitlin is a deadlier weapon than, say, a homing missile.  (she can defend herself from those)

Ok we’re back at the Underground Voice and there’s still an earthquake going on.  Also, and let me tell you this with a large amount of regret of my life-choices, I’ve been sitting here for just about two hours and we are only five minutes into the episode (and that includes the minute long opening credits.)

Let’s roll!

JB gets off the phone with who knows who, having learned that there’s no earthquake registering anywhere, it’s a localized mysterious incident.  Ryan recommends they clear the building “just to be safe.”  My boy, why wasn’t that everyone’s first thought?  Are they really just standing around waiting to be told?  We had drills for this for a reason!

(Actually, I’m not sure where Cross World City is located.  Maybe they’re not on a fault line and do not actually do drills)

In any case, there’s a brief PSA where Woody wants to collect his valuables to take with him, and everyone has to inform him that that’s ill-advised behavior in an evacuation scenario.

He responds in classic Woody nonsense, by putting on a captain’s hat and insisting he’ll go down with his ship.  AND OUR BOY JB SAYS

He’s still thinking about that date.

LOOK.  There’s no rule that says asexuals can’t make dirty jokes.  Because we can and do.  Let me have this.

So our heroes herd everyone out of the building and then stay behind to call the Puhfessor.  Just as they get him on the computer, the earthquake stops. 

It’s not all good news, though.  The Puhfessor taps into some kind of impossible CC feed and they watch Stingbot undermining the structural integrity of the building.  Stingbot, by the way, has one of those creepy child laughs that is insane.  It’s so good.

Ryan decides to check out the basement himself while Kaitlin and JB keep everyone else outside.  He finds some creepy janitors down there, and they head on up like creeps normal janitors.

Maybe they were just hotboxing down there.

Stingbot’s also in the basement!  Who knows what he was doing down there, because

Murder hornet, colorized, 2020

Which is a weird thing to say until you remember the slight, throwaway “yummy!” he says earlier while drilling into the building.  I had forgotten it in the 40 seconds it took for me to get from that moment to here.

Ryan insults Stingbot’s outward appearance, which is odd because I thought he learned that lesson as a kid.  Either way, it’s time to

WE ARE V R

Only to spend about half a second on recycled footage just to have Stingbot go “lol, later loser.”  Because those perfectly normal janitors are upstairs swapping Kaitlin’s purse mirror with the evil thing.

Can you imagine trying to pull a stunt like this today?

Outside, things have calmed down enough that JB thinks Ryan’s got it under control.  He’s gonna go back in “to see if the building’s safe enough to reenter.”  I know he knows it’s not a real earthquake, but also I don’t think I’d trust a non-professional to assess my office’s structural integrity.

Kaitlin’s going to join him, which causes Percy to pipe up, Pavlovianly ... just to chicken out and stay put.  GOOD JOB PERCY.  USING YOUR HEAD FOR ONCE I SEE.

(kids, don’t volunteer to check that a building is safe after an incident where its safety may be in question.  it is not cowardly to leave it to Someone Who Knows What They’re Doing)

So JB and Kaitlin come back in to find the Normal Janitors shadily stealing a floppy disk from Kaitlin’s desk.  (kids, a floppy disk is a real object that looks a lot like the “save” icon)   BUT OF COURSE THEY’RE SKUGS SO JB AND KAITLIN HAVE TO THROW DOWN.

Let’s just say there’s a good thing they have an earthquake to blame all this property damage on.

JB’s a little snippy.

All he wanted was to go to lunch with his girlfriend and boyfriend.

The gold skugs do their fusion dance thing and turn into the oni-mask skug variant, which I’m assuming is a constraint of these later episodes where they used footage from a show that did not have the gold ones in.

FLIRTY BATTLEFIELD BANTER UGH I SHIP IT

Once that’s handled, we find out what Ryan’s been up to in the basement by himself this whole time.

Um.  I’m not touching that one with a 10-foot ... wait.

Ohhhh

Ryan heads back up and swaps notes with JB and Kaitlin.  Stingbot said that its work was done, so what exactly was it trying to accomplish?  Ryan then runs from there outside to check on everyone else.

Kaitlin then decides she needs to freshen up, which is something I don’t recall her ever needing or wanting to do after any other natural disaster/fight portrayed on this show.

But look how cute they are with their mutual post-fight shoulder-pat.  JB even gives her this cute little look as she darts off.  He is smitten.

He is smote.

Kaitlin gets her mirror out of her purse, as planned, and checks herself out.  You know.  Like how woman do.

She gets it.

This is it!  Grimlord’s chance to strike!  He will have his revenge, Juliet, just you wait!

for great justice

We are treated to a brief bit of delightful 80s Japanese sci-fi, all flashing lights and chonky beep boop buttons.  It works!  A tastefully gendered laser light shoots out of Kaitlin’s mirror and STEALS HER FACE OFF HER FACE

FACE/OFF

The experience seems highly unpleasant, but she’s mostly ok...

But wait, who’s this ...

It’s not really the Mirror Universe unless someone gets a goatee.

Kaitlin’s freaked out, but we don’t have time to see her process what it was that just happened.  More beep boop 80s lights (seizure warning much), and the virtual replica Kaitlin is 3D printed in Grimlord’s lair.

lol he’s got a play date

So this Kaitlin is the same exact person as real Kaitlin, with one major difference.

So this got dark, right?  This is different from that time they cloned Ryan, because that was just a DNA clone man baby with evil sunglasses; this is actually Kaitlin, the person, just with some programming differences, who’s gonna go back out there and hurt her boys herself.

Needless to say, Grimlord is delighted.

Check out that disgruntled wall snake, tho.  “I thought I was your lovely child”

Now Grimlord’s plan is to send Kaitlin into the wild with a device called the “fissicator” which is a “sTUn ray!!” (you have to hear him say it, it’s so good) as well as a thing that will reprogram the Trooper’s “contact disk.”

I didn’t mention it earlier, but that’s the disk that the janitors skugs were trying to steal, and it was also how Kaitlin called up the Puhfessor on her work computer.  I’m pretty sure we’ve never seen it before and we never see it again.  It’s Not A Thing.

So Kaitlin goes to Tao’s, where Ryan’s just chilling there by himself.  I guess everyone was okay after the earthquake, then.  (It is unclear how much time has passed)  Maybe it’s been hundreds of years, because Ryan acts like he’s not sure who she is.

Wait, hold on.  I did NOT pay close enough attention the first time, but -- either it’s much later the same day and/or they missed a scene.  They’re still wearing the same clothes ... and Ryan says he thought she was heading (back?) to the paper ... and then she says ....

Ryan.exe has stopped executing

Wait so WHAT.  What workout.  We have not been to Tao’s yet this episode.  ???

It’s really just a ruse to get Ryan to fight her, though.  But also.  Why need ruse?  Evil clone?  Just attack tho, right?

But also no NO.  DONT attack.  We’ve already seen JB be beat up by his evil clone boyfriend.  It’s rough.  (spoiler alert, this one’s gonna be rough, too)

So Ryan tries to let her down easy by saying he doesn’t have time -- and I can’t tell with this video quality, but I don’t think he’s wearing a watch but he does the “look at wrist” technique and it’s p good.

Kaitlin-2 refuses to be let down easy.

Them’s fightin words

Ryan ends up splayed out on the desk but seriously, now is not the time.

He rightfully wants to know what’s up, but she keeps taunting him to fight her.  She takes the first shot, which he dodges and blocks before disengaging.  Remember, kids, just because somebody picks a fight with you doesn’t mean you don’t have any other options!

She won’t stop coming for him, though, so he gets her arms pinned so he can try talking her down again. 

This technique backfires.

no more mr nice kaitlin

So in the other clone episode, this scene was staged in a room full of people, and even though JB was blindsided, he and Ryan are ostensibly evenly matched.  It wasn’t nice for JB, but at least someone was there to break up the fight.

This time though, Ryan’s been gently if firmly trying to diffuse a confusing situation where someone without his training is behaving irrationally and is going to get both of them hurt.  So far his attempts to de-escalate have failed, and there is no deus ex intervention incoming.

AND THEN she goes and plays the superpowers card on him.  Black belt or no, the whole point of having the Trooper alter ego is that they come with amazingly OP combat powers capable of defeating all manner of monsters.

And Kaitlin, a very very very dear close friend has just walked up out of nowhere and dropped a nuke on him.

Okay, so she throws him over a table, it’s the principle of the thing.

This overkill maneuver knocks him out cold.  She lifts Ryan’s Trooper communicator (so he can’t call for help when he comes to -- omg this is so chilling) and then uses the fissicator to call Grimlord for further instructions.

Gotta catch ‘em all

New Kaitlin, who dis?

So he now wants her to steal the disk, reprogram the disk, and use the reprogrammed disk to break all the Trooper computer stuff.  She reads his order back like

Close enough, I guess.

She gleefully moves on to her next task, leaving a helpless Ryan struggling and failing to regain consciousness.  :<<<<<<<

At the paper, real Kaitlin gets a message from JB on her little Trooper video phone and secretly Trooper TRANSforms out of there from inside the darkroom.  This was the point where I realized they had different ones!  Hers and JB’s are red and white, while Ryan’s (that just got stole) is red/blue.

Also, you can just see under all those crayons, but that’s the “contact disk” that Kaitlin-2 is coming for.  (how many crayons does a professional journalist need, anyhow?)

So there’s a joke in there were Percy sees Kaitlin go into the darkroom and then Kaitlin-2 walks in, and then also when he checks the darkroom, it’s empty.

Oh, so that means Kaitlin-2 successfully steals the contact disk, btw.

Back at Tao’s, Ryan has woken up and some how his backpack has, like, crawled down to see if he’s okay?  Which is helpful because that’s how he is able to quickly identify that on top of assault, there’s been a robbery.

I hope she doesn’t delete my save files

And this was the moment (right now, doing the caps) that I realized the little phones are called VRVTs!

But seriously, imagine being knocked out cold by a loved one, with no reason, no hint at an explanation, and not only has she left you for dead, she’s taken your phone so you can’t call for help.  He has no idea that she’s an evil clone!!!!  This is a real tragedy of a thing.  A gutting betrayal.

It looks like Ryan has his own contact disk, tho?  And he uses this on Tao’s PC to call up the Puhfessor.

spelled it rong

Just as a note, this subtitle comes up WAY too soon, so for a couple of frames it just looks like some kind of meme.  A++

 Ryan starts to relate his traumatic experience to the Puhfessor, but luckily he’s cut off with the good news that his “sensors” somehow correctly identify Ryan’s assailant as Kaitlin’s virtual double.

geez, you guys, look at how Ryan deflates hearing this.  I mean, it’s not great that he was probably concussed, but it’s a relief that his world still makes some kind of sense.

poor bb

Also, you can’t tell as much here, but there’s a really subtle punch in as the moment progresses, bringing us closer and making the moment more intimate as he grapples with this new information.  There’s a lot of dumb half-assed stuff in this show, but I gotta call attention to the stuff that is excellent for any era.

Also it’s so efficient from a time-management perspective.  Just look at the opening shot, which was a medium type establishing shot so you can picture Ryan in the space, but the PC’s right there for both the viewer and Ryan to reach.  Then we slowly zoom in, which serves double duty in that it provides the appropriate emotional impact, and at the end we’re on a nice close up of Ryan as he jumps into action.  Three shots with just one set up (and probably done in one take, with room to splice the PC shots in)!  I’m very pleased with this.

Down to brass tacks

The Puhfessor ominously tells him that they have their own troubles and we go straight from there into some source footage of them fighting some skugs and what I think is General Ivar.

After about three seconds of that, we cut back to the lab, where Ryan busts in on Kaitlin-2 just as she’s hacking up a storm.

im in ur base, haxxoring ur mainframez

Kaitlin-2 shows him the contact disk, which is now “encoded with a self-destruct program” that she’s going to use to overheat the lab’s power core and destroy like all the things.  Ryan is noticeably concerned, but Kaitlin-2 points the fissicator at him to get him to stay in line.

Ok ok ok ok so here’s where we get to the point where, when I watched this today, I fully turned away from whatever it was I was doing to go wwwwwwwwwwwwtf

Kaitlin-2 has a disk that will blow up the lab -- and there’s nothing Ryan can do to stop her--

huh

bruh what are you

bro srsly what

is happening

You’re trying to tell me that Ryan “killed his own clone with no ragrets” Steele is trying to make an emotional appeal to this clone in order to undermine her sense of purpose?

...did she ever think that Grimlord cared about her?  As a person?  I feel like that wasn’t in the contract when she was 3D printed with the sole purpose of serving her dark master, and she shouldn’t have any emotional reaction to this assumed expectation being challenged.

And .... did they ... did they read my other post?  The one about wanting to keep the clone around ..... ??????

what is happening right now

Ryan leans hard into this “embrace your humanity” tactic and has the Puhfessor show them a live feed of JB and Kaitlin’s fight.

“...She sure could use our help...”

wait for it

When she balks, he gives her one last over the top inspirational blurb that despite of whatever it was Grimlord did to her, she’s still the same (good) person as Kaitlin.

It starts to sink it.

(also just check out these sweet eyelines, you can tell that the screen they’re watching is slightly to his left,  sort of behind her to her right, which makes sense!)

He keeps at it.

Looks like it’s working?  She starts to reconsider her whole existence ...

...considers Kaitlin’s ...

... moment of truth ...

And it works!

BUT IT DOESN’T STOP THERE YOU GUYS

“NOW GO HELP HER” RYAN COMMANDS

AND

OMG

CLONE KAITLIN-2 IS ALL

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I guess, I mean, obviously Ryan’s evil clone did that whole thing where he stole Ryan’s virtualizer and started flying the Skybase, so if this Kaitlin is the same as the other Kaitlin then obviously she’d be able to do this, too.

But like!  She was the main villain until like four seconds ago, somebody who did Ryan dirty.  Just another of Grimlord’s nefarious tools of warfare.  And Ryan, a man who’s killed his own clone before, who took a beating from her only hours prior, is suddenly the bigger man who is capable of seeing past all that in order to turn an agent of his enemy.  And to go do his job, no less!

This has never happened before.  This show’s always been kill or be killed.  There’s a good reason for this, and we’ll get to that in one moment.

But I like to think Ryan learned from his mistake.  He didn’t even try to to connect to his evil clone.  He just got beat up and went back for revenge.  (I’m looking back at my caps for that episode, and it seems it was the Puhfessor’s idea to kill the evil clone, and maybe there was a MacGuffin reason why it was The Only Way, I forget.)  Maybe he thought long and hard about the repercussions of his actions -- maybe he thought that, had he been able to better understand his evil self, that maybe that shadow version of him would have liked to have been given the benefit of the doubt?

At the end of the day, I can think whatever I want.  But why we never get any other reformed villains until now is only because

It’s almost like they recycled footage from a different show(s) and just had to roll with the punches.

So then JB and the Kaitlins fight some skugs and there’s a big explosion and a lot of jumping.  JB and Kaitlin get caught up with the SparkNotes version of who tf extra Kaitlin is and then they fight Stingbot, teleport to a quarry, you know, all the everyday stuff.

Back at the lab, Ryan’s feverishly trying to undo Kaitlin-2′s handiwork and keep the core from melting down.  Can he do i-- well yes.  He can and he does do it.  Then he TROOPER TRANSFORMs away and ... flies off to fight ... some jets ... I guess? 

pew pew pew

In the quarry, JB is going toe to toe with Stingbot.  Stingbot has some cute little wasp drones that electrocute everyone.  They’re having a good time out there.

it’s super effective

Ryan shoots some more jets ... JB dislodges his wasp and slices one off a Kaitlin with a sword ... the third one just .. pops off on its own *shrug*

Stingbot shoots some acid (oh he did that before, too, in the basement, but it was irrelevant) which evaporates a boulder ... Kaitlin goes back to her battlefield quips but they’re not nearly as flirty as the last time ...

JB gets out his lightsaber and GOES TO TOWN on the remaining bad guys.  That thing makes the BEST wvungwvungwvung sounds, just btw.

And that’s it!

Almost.

Grimlord spends his obligatory seven seconds ruing the day he ever met a VR Trooper and swearing revenge.

ya it’s called being a parent

Turns out he still hopes that the two Kaitlins will destroy each other!  Very optimistic guy, our Grimlord.

Back at ol’ HQ, JB and the Kaitlins stroll in and explain the sitch to Jeb.  Kaitlin-2 seems fully reformed!

yee gurrl

But oh-hoho, does the Puhfessor HATE clones.

buzzkill, emphasis on kill

So it turns out, and I quote, “two Kaitlins cannot exist in the same reality.”  I guess technically she’s not a clone, but a virtual double from the mirrorverse/VR land, so that kind of makes some sort of sense.  This dimension is too small for the both of you!

The stakes are that if the two Kaitlins are not rejoined within 24 hours, both Kaitlins will byte the dust. 

Oh no!!

This was the point where, having a pretty good internal clock as well as a refined sense of story structure, I literally smirked at the screen thinking “soooooooo what.  you have like two minutes left and you’re gonna fix it in time for the credits.  overdramatic stakes are overdramatic.”

AND

THEN

THE

KICKER

OH-HOHO

I WAS

SO WRONG

SAME THO?1

:D

[devil-may-write]

Day off [Fic, DMC, One-shot.]

I've had the word "writer" on my blog description for a while now so I figured that I'd start sharing some of the things I've written for once :> I originally posted this on ao3 and ff.net as the second chapter of a series comprised of fan-servicey oneshots that I intended to be 90% lighthearted. Looking back, I realized that this and the first chapter were haphazardly written, so I decided to retouch them and went for this one first as I felt that it was the one that shamed my Creative Writing teacher the most :--( The title's also kinda meh as I never really intended for each chapter to have a title hnnggg

I took a reaaaally (*cough* years *cough*) long hiatus from creative writing for personal reasons so there's obviously quite a lot of rust for me to shake off :--( Granted, I do think that this was a marked improvement from its original version and I know that the only way to get my groove back is to keep writing, so write I shall. Oh and I edited this meticulously but I still have a habit of missing small errors so I'm sorry if you still find any ;_; I'm just a headass ;_;

If anything, I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it :--)

-----------

The Orphanage was as quiet as a mouse today. Kyrie had taken the kids out to the zoo, caving into their demands after weeks and weeks of begging. Meanwhile, Nero and Nico took another job, leaving without so much as a whisper. With mentions of illegal devil arms being sold out on the streets, it seemed that the up-and-coming devil hunter wouldn’t be back for some time.

For Vergil, it was a rare moment of solace. With all his housemates out for the day, the older Son of Sparda took the opportunity to read and meditate on his poetry in peace. While he didn't necessarily despise companionship, he was unable to lie to himself and say that all the wild antics his companions kept getting themselves into didn't disturb him. As someone who was used to being alone, he enjoyed the solitude; it gave him time to be alone with his thoughts for he certainly couldn’t do so when the children kept asking him to "do the thing" with Yamato again.

Everything was proceeding according to plan. As he was busy soaking up William Blake in the living room with the refreshing sounds of silence in the backdrop, he was starting to think that perhaps this was going to be one of those rare, peaceful, uneventful days.

Until he heard someone ring the doorbell.

Vergil was many things, but impolite wasn't (mostly) one of them. With great reluctance, he slammed his poetry book shut and moved to see who his unexpected visitor was.

The local couriers had already finished delivering the latest batch of newspapers around Fortuna, and neither Kyrie nor his son were expecting any packages to be delivered today. He had encountered what the humans called "girl scouts" at one point, but they fled in fear when he demanded to know which master they served, furthering his suspicion that they were simply demons donning the guise of little girls in order to get closer to their prey. Perhaps they had returned to exact their revenge. If that was the case, then it was fitting that the children weren't present today. He could go all out without worrying about major collateral damage.

However, what greeted him when he opened the door was worse than any demon.

"Heya, 'Verg!”

It was Dante. His brother; his arch-nemesis. The smell of pizza, alcohol, and broken dreams oozed from his unwashed coat and shaggy hair, while his face wore the same shit-eating grin that haunted Vergil in his deepest, darkest nightmares. After what happened in Redgrave city, they were mostly on better terms with each other, but his little brother’s wild shenanigans and extroverted demeanor still annoyed Vergil to no end. He was like a 12-year-old child living in a 40-something man's body.

His reaction was immediate and decisive: he slammed the door shut in his face.

Vergil was about to turn around and return to his poetry when the doorbell rang again. And again, and again, and again. The utter buffoon was mashing the doorbell. To his annoyance, his younger twin brother was nothing but persistent. He didn't know why he was here, or what he wanted from him, but he decided that he'd rather get it over with as soon as possible so that he could return to his peace and quiet. The sooner he was gone, the better.

“What?!” Vergil threw the door open, almost causing his brother to get knocked off his feet.

"Really, Vergil? Really?" The devil hunter regained his balance. "Is that any way to greet your brother?"

"No, but it is how I greet pests who interrupt my peace and quiet." Vergil seethed. "Why have you come here, little brother?"

"I wanted to hang out with my big bro.” Grinning, he held up a plastic bag. “I even brought snacks."

Vergil observed that the bag his little brother carried was full of goodies: junk food, and bottles of what he assumed to be alcohol, all of which were most likely stolen from a nearby convenience store considering Dante's current financial status. He wouldn't be the least bit surprised if law enforcement would arrive to raid the orphanage later.

"Then I am afraid that your journey was in vain, brother," he said. "For I am currently not in the mood to entertain any guests on this wonderful, peaceful morning, especially not ones as disruptive as you."

Vergil closed the door again, this time a little slower. Halfway through, Dante suddenly stopped it with his foot.

"Come on, Vergil." He pleaded. "I came all this way just to hang with ya!"

"Then our souls are once again at odds, Dante!"

The older sibling pulled on the door with as much strength as he could muster, but his little brother had the same idea. They were locked in a battle of wills, with one side refusing to give way to the other.

Just like always.

"I don't have any new jobs today and Nero told me that the kids weren't around!" Dante responded. "When was the last time we sat down and talked or laughed over our jokes, or just drank some orange juice?"

Vergil made a mental note to hit his son the next they met. The fool, his own flesh and blood, had inadvertently betrayed him.

"And can you please just open the door?” the younger sibling yelled. “My goddamn foot hurts!"

Vergil fully intended on making him suffer, but relented and complied with his request.

"The last time we sat down and talked was when we were children," he said with a stern, as-a-matter-of-fact tone. "And if my memory is correct, it ended with both of us having a fistfight outside of the house."

"Oh yeah." Dante gave his big brother a friendly tap on the chest. "That was definitely your fault, though. I was supposed to get that last slice of cake."

Vergil glared in response.

"Okay, okay, fine.” The younger sibling threw his arms up in exasperation. “The point I'm trying to make is that you were gone for a long ass time and since we're not trying to off each other anymore like we used to, I figured that it'd be the perfect time to start acting more like normal siblings, you know?"

"And how certain are you that I won't sever your head when your attention is elsewhere, little brother?"

Awkward silence suddenly fell on both parties like a bomb had been dropped between them. The wind howled, as if waiting impatiently for Vergil to drop the punchline to his joke, but none came.

“T-t-that was a joke, right?” The devil hunter stammered.

"Yes.” Vergil nodded. “That was my attempt at humor."

"You should really work on your jokes."

"Perhaps I should."

"So are ya”-Dante clicked his tongue-“gonna let me in or not?"

Vergil sighed. Deep down, he knew that should he refuse, Dante would pester him until he gave in. Perhaps he was a 12-year-old child stuck in an old man's body. Either way, his hopes of having an entire day all to himself would be ruined, and he supposed that there were worse things that could happen today that didn't involve his dear little brother.

"Very well.” Vergil stepped aside, allowing his brother passage. “Make yourself at home."

Dante gladly accepted the offer. Unbeknownst to his big bro, however, he had ulterior motives today.

While he wasn’t lying when he said that he wanted to spend time with Vergil, there was one question that was always on the devil hunter’s mind: who was Nero’s mother? It was a topic he always brought up whenever he could, but it was also one that Vergil loved avoiding. Every time their past conversations would lead to that, the older twin shot it down faster than a bullet, mostly by changing the topic. Call him an insipid gossip, but his big brother’s peculiar reactions only threw more gasoline into the unquenchable blaze that was his curiosity. He wasn’t even close to getting him to confide his secret, but today was going to be different; Dante felt it in his old, aching bones. He had the entire day to find a hole in his bro’s armor. Plus, this time he brought a secret weapon: alcohol.

Walking into the living room, he wasted no time in picking a spot on the couch to plop down on, with Vergil following suit. The older twin made another mental note to ask Kyrie to give the couch a proper scrubbing when she arrives home later; it would be unfortunate if any of the little ones would sit on the spot his brother infected with his filth.

The younger twin promptly opened a fresh bag of junk food from his loot bag. As he devoured his prize with loud, disruptive crunches, his older brother could already tell that he was going to regret this decision.

“Want some?” He held out the bag to his brother.

Vergil was perplexed by the illustration of a large, triangular object that was displayed on the front side. He had heard of this 'junk food', but was never able to try any on account of Kyrie's insistence on keeping them away from the orphans.

Dante noticed his big bro’s quizzical expression.

"You haven't seen a bag of Doritos before?" he asked.

“My son often keeps these junk foods away from the children at Kyrie’s behest." Vergil answered. “I have seen him eat in secret, but I did not have any interest in asking for any.”

"Go on." His little brother urged, shaking the bag for good measure. "It won't hurt to give it a try."

Vergil hesitated at first, but slowly placed his hand in the bag and fished out a single Dorito, nibbling on the piece as a way of testing the waters. The moment it made contact with his tongue, Vergil felt as if a wave of colors washed over his mouth, painting his grey and colorless palettes with a captivating myriad of bright colors. It was the first time he had tasted such a thing and already his taste buds were in ecstasy from finally being given the honor to behold this hallowed object.

"Good, right?" Dante asked

"Indeed." Vergil chewed. "I am in awe at how exquisite this 'Doritos' tastes. May I have some more?"

The devil hunter tossed his big brother an unopened bag of Doritos, which he caught effortlessly and wasted no time in tearing open like a starving wolf descending upon an unsuspecting deer in the wilderness.

“See, isn’t this just perfect?” He moved closer to his brother, reaching out to casually place his arm on his shoulder. “The sons of Sparda, finally not trying to kill each other, just chillin’ like two normal dudes.”

“No.” Vergil slapped his arm way. “You are an eyesore. To add to that, you smell like the corpse of an animal who has been left in a garbage bin for too long.”

”I don’t smell that bad, do I?” Dante sniffed at his own coat. “Nah, you’re exaggerating. I took a shower before leaving.”

“In the sewers, perhaps.” Vergil scoffed.

Ignoring his brother’s scalding remarks, Dante scanned his nephew's living room. It was a little messy, but that was expected when you were living with a gaggle of children. To her credit, Kyrie was clearly doing her best to make the place look as spotless as possible despite the circumstances.

His attention fell on a framed picture of Nero, Kyrie, and his brother, taken in what he surmised to be the wreckage of one of the old Hell Gates during his run-in with Sanctus and his insane doomsday cult. From the looks of it, it seemed that the new governing body that replaced the Order of the Sword had converted it into a tourist site, almost as if they conveniently forgot that it was responsible for the deaths of thousands and cost the city millions in damages after it unleashed a horde demons on them.

"I see that the photo has caught your attention.” Vergil said between bites "That was taken last week when Kyrie insisted that they bring me along for shopping."

"How’d it go?"

"Horrible." Vergil answered bluntly. "I wanted to use the Yamato to procure a piece of jewelry that Kyrie could not afford, but Nero punched me with such strength that I was knocked out."

Dante bit back a laugh.

“He does have a mean right hook, I’ll give ya that,” he said. “Say, did they really turn what’s left of the Hell Gates into tourist sites?”

“It appears so.” Vergil answered. “They have become quite the popular destination here in Fortuna. Nero tells me that what happened in Redgrave caused demon-related phenomena to become quite popular, especially on what young people call ‘social media’.”

“Facebook, huh?” Dante walked over to the photo, examining it further. “I never really liked using it. Kyrie tried to make me an account once, but the first thing I clicked on was a link to a virus or whatever and it crashed Nero’s PC.”

“Then we share the same sentiment.” Vergil nodded. “All this new-fangled technology and the babble that comes with them confuses me to end. To this day, I still have no idea what a ‘hashtag’ is or how exactly one uses it when they wish to type in a message.

“I remember a time when this hashtag was just a sign used to connote numbers. Now, it is in tags or trending pages. Bah. I will never understand this new generation. They enjoy making simple matters complicated.”

“Simpler times, bro. Simpler times.” His younger brother concurred. “They even have this website where they limit the amount of words you can put on a post. How dumb is that?”

“About as dumb as you are, little brother.”

Stealing a glance at the booze he had smuggled in, Dante decided that now was the perfect time to attack. The ice had been broken. Operation: Nero’s Mom was just given the greenlight to proceed.

“We’re getting old, Vergil.” Dante returned to his seat. “The world’s moving on without us.”

“Perhaps.” Vergil licked off the bits of cheese that were stuck on his fingertips. “If anything, I simply wish to understand what a hashtag is. I cannot rest until I find out how it turns a text blue when it is used.”

”But you know what doesn’t get old?”

His older brother stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to give the answer to his own question.

“Booze,” Dante said.

“Specifically, whiskey.” He held up one of the bottles that he pulled out of the plastic. “I brought more than enough.”

Vergil sighed. He knew exactly what his little brother was suggesting.

“No,” he said without a hint of hesitation. “No drinking.”

“But I can’t help but feel that something’s missing.” He insisted. “My heart says that this moment of brotherly bonding is enough, but my soul yearns for more!”

“Your soul is in dire need of an exorcist, it seems.”

The regret that was creeping up on Vergil was now at a full-blown sprint. He knew not what shenanigans his little brother had in mind but knew enough to predict that, as always, it wouldn’t end well for either of them.

“Little brother, it is far too early for alcohol.” Vergil rubbed his temples. “Unlike you I do not require alcoholic beverages to enjoy my moments of leisure.

“Too early? It’s eleven o’clock!” Dante replied. “C’mon, pull that stick out of your ass, big bro. You gotta live a little!”

“I would rather gouge my eyes out with a spoon than live like you.”

“You know what they say: alcohol is what turns a boring ol’ conversation into a party.” He stood and began to pace around the living room in a dramatic fashion. “How can our souls attune with one another if we don’t take a little drop of alcohol to loosen up?”

“Whoever said that is a fool and you are an even bigger buffoon for quoting such drivel.” Vergil placed the bag of Doritos on the empty spot beside him. “You are free to consume as much alcohol as you wish so long as you clean up, but leave me out of it.

“I’m sure you are well aware of Nero’s temper. Attracting his ire would be unwise.”

“Come on, ‘Verg.” Dante moved closer to his brother, jokingly putting on his best puppy-dog-eyes expression to poke him further. “Just one glass?”

Of course, Dante had been in enough drinking sessions to know that the “just one glass” mantra was a load of crap. “Just one glass” always turned into “Okay, another one but for real this is the last one.” and the cycle repeats ad infinitum. If his gamble paid off today, Vergil would fall into that same vicious cycle, which meant that he’d be more than likely to spill the details about his old flame now that he was a little loosened up or just outright drunk as a skunk. The devil hunter always had shit for luck when it came to gambling, but he legitimately felt that lady luck was on his side today. He was going to bet high and win big.

On the other hand, Vergil recoiled in horror. Terrified, annoyed, disgusted, and angry were just half of the words he’d use to describe his catharsis. Seeing the face his brother was trying to put on was akin to staring into the nebulous maw of the void itself. He wanted to throw-up on the spot, but that would mean amplifying his brother’s already pungent smell of decay, so he opted to hold it in as best as he could despite his feelings of utter disgust at the sight.

His brother’s persistence bothered him greatly; the fool would never stop bothering him about it until he conceded. His presence was already an annoyance as it is, but just as he did not wish to amplify the smell of death by covering him in vomit, he also did not wish to be annoyed even further by his constant bugging. Besides, as he much as he hated to admit, he did miss the feeling of having a drink. He wasn’t a heavy drinker by any means, but he still enjoyed a little alcohol from time to time, and part of him wasn’t opposed to tasting even just a single drop. In a strange, twisted way, Dante was correct: it had been some time since he had a drink.

Perhaps it would be best to humor him for now

“Fine-” Vergil let out a long, deep sigh- “I’ll have a glass, I suppose.”

“Alright!” Dante’s expression brightened. “Does Nero have a bottle opener here somewhere or are we going to use Yamato?”

“Left cupboard.” Vergil replied. “The glasses for drinking are on the right.”

Dante disappeared into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with two glasses of whiskey. Vergil was surprised that he didn’t hear the contents of the cupboard crash into the floor. Taking into account of how much of a buffoon his little brother was, he half-expected him to leave a trail of destruction in the kitchen the likes of which no one has ever seen before.

“Here ya go, big bro.” Plopping back down on the couch, he handed him the other glass. “Fresh from the bottle.”

“How much did you pay for this?” Vergil examined the brown liquid. “I am surprised that someone with such gargantuan debts was able to afford premium alcohol.”

“Hey, the grocery I bought it in was selling it for half-off.” Dante shrugged. “Wanna go ahead and draw first blood?”

“If you insist.”

The older twin started with a small sip. It had been some time since his last taste of alcohol, but the feeling was just as he had remembered: warm, somewhat calming, like something was slowly lifting away the burdens that weighed heavily on his shoulders. Unlike his taste test earlier with the junk food, this was him reconnecting with an old friend, repainting the sections of his palette that were otherwise left neglected through years of disuse.

“Well, well, little brother." He smirked. “Despite your constant buffoonery, it seems that you aren’t completely devoid of intellect.”

“Quality stuff, I know.” Dante took a swig from his share. “It’s expensive as hell, but it’s worth it. Hits you like nothing else on the market.”

“I must concur.” His brother replied. “As much as it pains me to say so, you have fine tastes, brother.

“The last time I tasted alcohol this exquisite was somewhere in the east prior to my visit here in Fortuna all those years ago.”

“This sounds fun.” Dante raised his eyebrows. “Wanna tell me all about it?”

“If I must.” Vergil took another sip from his whiskey. “I would prefer not to, but I presume that I have no say this matter regardless.

"So, it all began when..."

Vergil recounted his tale, with Dante listening intently. As the two brothers were getting lost in their banter about the older twin’s untold experiences, they found themselves drinking more than they intended to, pouring glass after glass after glass. It was a stark contradiction to Vergil’s initial proclamation, who was already on his third refill. Eventually, they started branching out to different topics, which ranged from the mundane to outlandish. This went on longer than they expected, with time wordlessly evaporating in the backdrop.

Dante was beginning to notice that Vergil was a little loose now, to say the least; he was acting less haughty and more candid. He swore that his older sibling was even turning red as a tomato, but he couldn’t tell. After all, he wasn’t one to talk: he was already the feeling the hit of the booze himself. The devil hunter fancied himself to be a pretty decent drinker, but this stuff was no joke. He bought this solely to get the elephant in the room drunk enough to spill his guts out. Vergil didn’t drink as feverously, but he was still going at it more than he probably cared to notice. On certain occasions, he would become lost in thought and start droning on about things outside of the current topic. Hell, he was even starting to smile a little more than usual, which was a weird thing to see from someone whose default facial expression was a frown.

Before they even realized it, the sun was already beginning to set on Fortuna, and their faces were already flushing red from how much they had been drinking up to this point.

“In the end, we lost both the cake and the money.” Finishing his latest tale, Vergil poured himself another round. “It caused quite the ruckus.”

Dante burst out into fits of uncontrollable laughter. His brother wasn't an airhead by any means, but his attempts to reintegrate into modern society always resulted in utter hilarity.

”Don’t sweat it, big bro.” He wiped away a small tear in his eye. “Being a dad’s tough.”

“It is.”

"How is that workin’ out for ya these days?”-The devil hunter gulped down the last of his current round-“Being a dad, I mean.”

Vergil was silent for a moment. He stared off into the distance, combing his brain for a response that seemed distant to him. The older half-demon never really considered himself a ”father”, by any means; Nero would call him dad or pops and he would occasionally refer to him as son but from his perspective, their relationship was more akin to close housemates than family members. It was still an awkward topic for the both of them, to say the least.

Seeing this kind of reaction from his brother was a rarity, but it was a good sign, nonetheless. Lady luck was truly on Tony Redgrave’s side today.

"It is still a very foreign feeling to me." Vergil finally answered. "As always, Nero tries to act like we are a normal family. However, even now I still find it very perplexing that he is my son. He is loud and brash and has no sense of subtlety.

"I wonder why?" He shot his little brother a dirty glare.

"Don't look at me.” Dante shrugged. "The kid was already like that when I first met him. Angry, hot-blooded, always looking for a fight. He punches really hard, too."

"Yes." Vergil nodded. "But at the same time, there is something about that boy that I cannot explain. It's as if there's a part of my soul that resides inside him. I am unable to see it, but I feel it."

“You two couldn’t be any more different, but the kid’s definitely yours, big bro.” He gave his brother a wink. “He even has your eyes.”

Vergil was silent for a moment, as if lost in contemplation. He suddenly found himself feeling wistful. It was odd for him to be this sentimental about a past he barely cared about at the time and as sure as he was that this was simply him being debilitated by the alcohol, he still wasn’t able to stifle these almost alien emotions he was starting to uncover.

He finally said, “Brother, may I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“How did you find my son?”

Dante refilled his glass of whiskey before beginning his tale.

"To be honest? By complete accident," he said. "When Lady tossed me a job about some serious stuff that was goin’ on down here that involved Devil Arms, I sent Trish to infiltrate the Order and get some dirt on 'em before moving in to do business. On the way, I saw this white-haired kid take care of a bunch of demons before going to some ceremony. It was good stuff.

"I barge into the said ceremony and killed the old dude who was running the show. There was obvious panic, a lot of screaming, but I didn't expect him to jump out of the crowd and start attacking me. We had a bit of a tussle, and he beat my face in with that arm of his which, by the way, hit really hard, but I got away. He started chasing me, though. Nero was an angry son of a bitch, so I had to knock some sense it to him more than once but like you said: spirit. I saw a lot of you in him."

Vergil smiled. Perhaps Nero has taken after him more than he initially thought, especially with how much he manhandled his uncle.

"I never even knew I had a son before I departed Fortuna," he said. "In truth, I never expected that one would confront me the way Nero did atop the Qliphoth. Perhaps I wasn't as resistant towards the desires of the flesh as I thought I would be back then."

There it was again. That sullen expression, as if his very soul was plucked from his body by an unseen force. He looked lost in thought, dreaming of someone or something in a distant memory that he could no longer attain.

"Yeah, well even you were young once, big brother.” He patted him on the back. “Don't let it get to ya."

This was it. The path was now open, and Dante wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip his grasp; he was going to ride this sudden burst of good luck all the way to the jackpot.

"Since I answered yours, do you mind if I pop a question of my own?" he asked.

“If you must.”

The devil hunter scooted over towards his brother. Vergil tried to move away, but found himself pressed against the couch’s armrest. His little brother was so close that he feared his coat would melt the moment it touched his on account of all the filth that had most likely accumulated on it from weeks of being unwashed.

“So, who was the lucky lady?” Dante whispered.

Vergil choked on his whiskey. At that moment, he realized his fatal error: he had been droning on so much that he inadvertently opened pandora’s box once more.

“What’s wrong, Vergil?” Dante placed his empty glass on the floor. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Er, I cannot seem to recall.” Vergil crossed his arms. “It did happen a long time ago, after all.”

“Come on, I know you’ve got something for me.” Returning to the photograph, Dante held it up towards his brother. "Who did you hook up with to get this kid?

He stalled by pretending to recall his memories in silence, but he knew that he was starting to run out of time. He needed to think of something right now.

In most cases, Vergil would find a smooth way out of this situation. He would take control over the conversation and shift it towards something else, gradually burying the original topic in a pile of mundane ones until it was laid to rest for the time being. Dante would exhume it in preparation for their next meeting, but the outcome was always the same either way. However, this case was different when one considers the copious amounts of alcohol coursing through his veins that clouded his train of thought. Hijacking the discussion was exactly what he planned on doing right now, but what he had in mind was far from eloquent.

“Before I give my response, allow me to retort with mine." Vergil answered. “What about you, little brother?”

“Excuse me?” Dante blinked.

Vergil’s expression unnerved him. His grin was unsettling, like it was full of malice and scandalous intent.

“Where is your child?” His older brother sneered.

“A kid?” Dante put the photo down and shrugged. “Never had one, never even thought of having one. My job doesn’t really give me time to settle down and raise a little rascal, does it?”

"So, you are surrounded by a gaggle of beautiful women." Vergil continued. "Lady, Nico, and perhaps others you have crossed paths with inside and outside your line of work, and you still have not conceived a worthy heir to our father’s bloodline?”

“I get that." Dante sighed. "But I’m too busy, okay? I’m supposed to be the one protecting the human world or whatever, so a kid’s definitely out of the question.

”I mean hey, we have yours and he already has Kyrie, so the line is saved. There’s no need for another kid.”

“I see, I see.” Vergil nodded. “A fine answer, dear brother, but I believe that you are simply hiding a much, much more different truth that you do not wish to admit.”

"And what would that be?"

“Perhaps the truth is that”-Vergil walked over to his little brother, stopping at an arm’s length away from him.-“You are yet to pop your cherry, so to speak."

With that, lady luck had packed her bags and left for the nearest ferry out of Fortuna. The heat rushed to Dante’s face as he found himself on the receiving end of a topic that he was not keen on discussing, especially with his big brother. He tried to dig up a cool comeback, which was his supposed specialty, but found nothing except the cold, hard realization that his composure was completely broken.

Normally, a shallow, off-handed question like that wouldn’t bother the devil hunter in the slightest, but the booze in his system made it hard for him to think rationally, and he wasn’t just going to let the fact that his brother called him a virgin slide. They were both too drunk to even think about how petty starting an argument over this issue was for men of their age.

“O-o-of course I’ve had sex.” He stammered. “I just don’t have a kid, that’s all!”

Vergil, however, was having none of it and was already consumed by laughter. You didn't this see him this jovial much and, admittedly, in other circumstances, Dante would have felt a small trickle of joy to see his brother this happy. It was rare, like seeing an albino animal in the wild, or a Riot with a stubby tail: there was a sense of wonder that was attached to it; a once in a lifetime find that you'd treasure for the rest of your life.

But right now, all he wanted to do was bash his goddamn face in.

"Oh, dear brother." Vergil was wiping away tears. "Don't tell me that you're incapable of charming a woman?"

“I’ve been on dates before!”

“Then how about satisfying one?” Vergil sneered.

The sight of his little brother becoming flustered pleased him greatly. Dante's face was an even redder shade now as he struggled to mask his embarrassment. Oh the poor fool. Vergil was loving every second of this.

"I see how it is." He gave his brother a hard shove. "You had a one-night stand and got a kid out of it, so now you think you can act all high and mighty, don't ya?”

“Mother always said that I was the more handsome brother.” Unfazed, Vergil retorted. "It appears she was correct."

“We literally have the same face." Dante shot back. "We're twins, dipshit!"

"But I am the more charming sibling." Vergil responded. "With your face and that odor, it is not surprising that women are not attracted to you whatsoever."

"You're delusional." Dante seethed. "Living in the underworld for decades does that to ya."

"And you are in denial, little brother."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Admit it, Dante." Vergil flaunted. "I have inherited our father's charm more than you have, and I am much better at pleasing my partner in bed."

"Are you implying that I'm bad at sex?!"

Dante felt a nerve pop. He wasn't just going to stand here and take this shit from him. The younger brother wanted nothing more than to wipe that his smug expression off his face and make him choke on his words.

"It's not an implication." Vergil locked eyes with his sibling. "It's a fact."

They were both acting like children, but were too drunk on expensive whiskey to care. There, in the living room of the orphanage, a stand-off was taking place. Mirroring what happened atop the Temen-Ni-Gru all those years ago, the sons of Sparda stared each other down, neither willing to give the other ground. The tension was palpable. The silence was deafning, in a way: there was a calm before the storm where one could hear the drop of a pin even if it happened across the street.

Dante conjured his Devil Sword out of thin air. Its blade pulsed in a sickening red glow, signifying that it was ready and able to carry out its wielder's wishes. Seeing nothing but red and the blue hue of his brother's coat, he was determined to make him choke on his words.

The younger son of Sparda raised his weapon and pointed it at his older brother.

"You take that back." He threatened.

Vergil was unfazed and turned to retrieve his own weapon. Yamato was leaning snugly beside the couch, but now it was in its master's hands, unsheathed and poised to cut through whatever Vergil wished to destroy. He didn't intend on using it for the entire day even just for travel, but a change of plans was in order. Holding on to his staunch pride as the eldest sibling, he was determined to teach this insolent little pup a lesson.

"Empty threats mean nothing to me, Dante." Vergil retorted, assuming a battle stance of his own. "But you already knew that."

With the powder now lit, it was only a matter of time before it exploded.

-----------

The Devil May Cry van was steadily rolling down the streets of Fortuna with its proprietors at the helm. Nico took the next right, passing by the pizza place that served as their landmark; they were already a few blocks away from home.

On the front seat, Nero had just finished counting the cash they hauled in from their latest gig. Another day, another devil arms deal busted. This kind of job usually entailed a big fight with someone who knew how to use their new toy (to some degree), but in this case they were lucky that the thugs didn't know how to use their stuff and ended up killing themselves before the fight even started.

"Easiest paycheck ever." He slammed the briefcase shut.

"You bet your ass it was." Nico blew a puff of smoke out the window. "Those dumbasses didn't even know what the hell kinda heat they were packin'!"

"Yeah well, that just means more cash for us." The young devil hunter leaned backwards. "If all the jobs we took went down this smoothly, we'd never have to worry about getting hungry ever again."

He was glad that things sorted themselves out when the dumb bastards started to slice themselves in half by accident. He needed the money, but he hated this kind of job; it always made him feel more tired than he should be after everything wrapped up. Getting to go home with the sun still up was rare for them nowadays, but he welcomed it all the same. Kyrie and the kids weren't going to be home soon, which meant that he had the house all to himself. His dad was the only one left holding down the fort, but he'd sooner eat his own shoe than consider that Vergi of all people would be the one to cause any trouble.

"...in other news, a local grocery store has become the victim of a robbery that took place earlier this morning. Witnesses and CCTV footage have all confirmed that the criminal, who appeared to be a shadowy humanoid wearing a long coat, ran straight into the establishment and started stealing various junk food and several bottles of alcohol in plain sight, leading many to speculate that demons wer-"

At the mention of demons, Nero shot out of his seat and turned off the radio.

"I was listen' to that, shit-for-brains!" The mechanic snapped, tossing the burnt-out cigar to her partner out of spite. "What the hell do you think you're doin'?"

"Look, can we just not hear anymore talk about demons today?" He sighed. "I wanna block all that shit out from my head and just relax for once, okay?

"Whatevuh." Nico rolled her eyes. "Can I at least switch to the music station?"

"Sure, go ahead." Nero flicked away the burnt-out cigar that landed on his jacket. "It'd be nice to hear something that ain't your annoying accent for once."

"Hey, fuck you, asshole." Nico cursed. "Your jus' jealous cause your voice sounds dumb an' borin' in comparison."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

With music starting to flood the van's atmosphere, Nero drifted off and began to imagine all the things he could do without the children or Kyrie around. Maybe he'd go to the rec room first to boot up a videogame, or he could relax on the couch with a cold can of beer to help ease his nerves a bit. He usually wasn't allowed to drink any liquor, but there wasn't anyone there to stop him now. Oh, maybe he could do both. Both would probably be the best. Drinking some good beer wh-

A sudden brake snapped him out of his dream world, causing his skull to collide with windshield.

"Nico?!" He rubbed the spot on his head that had hit the glass.

"Don't lose your tits, hotshot." The artisan tossed another cigar out the window. "Get off your butt and look a' this."

Nero was back on his feet and peering outside through the windshield. He immediately saw what caused Nico's distress: the front door to the orphanage was open. Not just open, but it hanged from its hinges, like someone had forcibly done so during a struggle. Not only that, some of the windows were broken, and pieces of furniture were scattered along the street.

Frustration started to bubble inside him. He was looking forward to having peace and quiet and leisure greeting him, not the face of whatever ugly son of a bitch had decided to sniff around their home.

"What happened here?" Nico wondered out loud.

"Definitely wasn't a girl scout, that's for damn sure." He removed Blue Rose from her holster. "And here I thought that I'd get the day off."

"What the hell are ya talkin' about?" Nico pointed at the carnage "Your dad probably killed whatever knocked on your door, dumbass!"

"Maybe." Nero got up from his seat. "We won't know until we find out and I'm not gonna leave things on a gut feeling when we're living with a bunch of children who'd follow a stranger if he had candy."

Turning to his partner, he grinned.

"Hey, driver? Keep the meter running, will ya?" the half-demon teased.

"Just get the fuck outta here and do what you need to do." Nico flashed him a middle finger.

Dismounting the van, Nero revved Red Queen to life. With Blue Rose in hand, he slowly approached the orphanage, taking care to assess the situation properly and avoid any surprises that may have been left for him if there were any.

"This is your fault, you idiot!"

"You were the one who provoked me!"

No, I didn't! You did!"

"Foolish little brother! How dare you place all the blame on me?"

He heard bickering from inside. It was his dad's, for sure, but he swore that he also heard Dante.

The young devil hunter threw caution to the wind and made a beeline for the doorway. Upon entering, he felt an artery pop upon witnessing the horrors that had transpired inside his own home while he was gone.

A Category-5 hurricane had ravaged the orphanage. Leaks had sprung everywhere; holes dotted the walls and ceilings like they were blocks of cheese. As with the scene outside, pieces of broken furniture were thrown around everywhere, and the wall that seperated a portion of the living room from the corridor was no more. The ceiling above the dining room had collapsed completely, causing everything in the guest room to scatter all over the ground floor, including the bed. It was one hell of a ruckus.

"Dad?! Dante?!" He called. "You guys okay?!"

"In the living room, son!" Vergil answered.

We're upstairs!" Dante shouted. "Don't believe him, he's tired!"

Vergil and Dante began to bicker again, but Nero was too focused on the matter at hand to make out what they were saying. He dashed towards the living room with urgency, worried about the safety of his dad ad uncle, and...

He stopped dead in his tracks. This time, he felt all his arteries explode at once as pure, unadulterated rage began to course through his system.

The living room was a right and proper mess, but the highlights of this destruction were his dearly beloved father and ever-reliable uncle. Dante was sprawled on the floor, impaled with Yamato and looking like he had been fighting an entire army of demons by himself the whole day. Vergil, also looking like absolute shit, was high up on the wall, held in place by the Devil Sword Dante that was embedded in his chest. They looked utterly exhausted from their fight. Nero could spied a bottle of whiskey, as well as several broken ones that were scattered around the scene. They got drunk and had a fight while everyone had their backs turned.

The two brothers immediately ceased their bickering and turned in sync to see Nero, their precious little boy, with an expression of pure hatred that would make even Mundus himself turn around and run back to his mother.

"Oh shit." Dante uttered.

"Welcome home, son!" Vergil faked a smile. "How was work?"

Nero was in hysterics. He laughed at the absurdity of it all. This was much, much worse than he imagined it to be. The orphanage was beyond trashed. They were already in the red with the finances as it is, but now all the money they had left was going straight to fixing the mess that these two had left behind.

"Hey dad, hey Dante." He pointed at the still-intact bottle of liquor. "Watcha got there?"

"Er, a smoothie?" His uncle let out a weak laugh.

"Wrong answer, motherfucker."

Nero's voice was calm, but his maniacal grin said otherwise.

With a bright flash of purple, the young half-demon shed his humanity and assumed his Devil form, opening his ethereal wings to their full wingspan.

"Alright, assholes." The arms that grew out of his wings cracked their knuckles in anticipation. "Which one of you is payin' for all this shit?"

Dante raised his right hand.

"Okay, okay. So, here's how this is gonna work." Nero approached his loving family, making sure that each step was slow and deliberate. "I'll be using my left hand on ya and only my left so that after I'm done, you'll be conscious enough to pay me from your fucking hospital bed. We clear on that, old man?"

"Please don't kill me, Nero." Dante begged. "It was your dad's fault."

"Show me mercy, son. I beg you." Vergil chimed in. "It was your uncle who started this."

"Oh, it doesn't matter which one of you did this or that." Nero cackled "'Cause as far as I'm concerned, you're both gonna need more than just a Gold Orb when I'm through beating both your asses!"

With that, the arms on Nero's wings reached out and grabbed both brothers by their collars.

-----------

Nico was enjoying her 'cigs when she saw Dante fly out the window and land hard on the pavement.

"Nero, please!" he pleaded, trying in vain to crawl his way out of the carnage.

One of the arms from Nero's wings reached out to grab him by the ankle, slamming him around the street like a toy before pulling him back in through the same window he flew out of.

"Who told you I was done?! Get your fuckin' ass back here, old man!"

The mechanic took one last whiff of her cigar. Tossing it out in the street, she rolled up her window and turned on the radio again.

"What a bunch o' weirdos." she mused as the music began to fill her ears, drowning out the anguished wails of Nero's father figures.

[completeoveranalysis]

TRC Translation Notes Volume 11 (Chapters 74 - 82)

Here we are with the first installment of the new Translation Notes from @giniroangou, picking up exactly where she last paused at Chapter 74. 

Highlights include: a return to Piffle, the restoration of Fai’s parenting skills, high school detectives becoming more competent, Nick appreciating Tomoyo in the distance, and general spousal vibes.

Chapter 74

p.2 - The chapter title that has been translated as “Your Power” I feel would be better rendered as “Your Strength.” The word “power” has some connotations in English that I don’t think are intended here.

p.7 - I don’t think this quite came through in the translation, but the banner here is worded like a general advertisement, so something in the vein of: “Leave it to us! Piffle Guard, for all your security needs.”

p.9 - The text by Kurogane that says “Angry guy” was originally just “Tsukkomi,” which I’ve covered before but can certainly be difficult to translate. It’s basically just indicating that his, “What the hell?!” is meant to be a comeback to hearing yet another ridiculous ship name.

Sakura’s “I can do better than this!” would be more accurately translated as, “I have to do my best too!” which I think gives a stronger sense of her drawing encouragement from the rest of her family and just has a more positive ring to it in general.

p.24 - The translation has Fai saying, “How could we ever doubt you, Sakura-chan,” which kind of gives the impression that they were doubting her at some point, but in the Japanese line he uses the word “sasuga,” meaning, “As expected of Sakura-chan.”

Chapter 75

p.33 - Kurogane’s line to Fai, “I told you not to slip alcohol to the kid and the princess,” was originally just, “I told you not to let the kid and the princess drink alcohol.” The Japanese version makes it sound less like Kurogane is accusing Fai of being a deliberately irresponsible parent.

p.35 - Kurogane’s “You little brat” is less harsh in the original text - he just says “kozou” (kid), as usual.

Fai’s “Daddy” nickname that has evoked so much hilarity and horror is “Otou-san” in Japanese. Not only is this more formal than the translation would indicate, it also doesn’t have the same kinky connotations as in English. That being said, there is a subtext here that I don’t necessarily think Fai intended but would definitely come across to Japanese readers. It’s quite common for married women with children to refer to their husbands regularly as “Otou-san,” so while Fai is probably just trying to needle Kurogane about his fatherly attitude towards the kids, he’s inadvertently giving off major spousal vibes at the same time.

p.36 - There are a couple little mistranslations in this conversation that make it sound more awkward in the English version. Kurogane doesn’t say that Sakura’s faster drunk than she is sober (as beautiful as that concept is) - he says that she got drunk faster than the last time (in Outo), which leads more naturally into Fai’s next lines where he theorizes that her happiness over her victory speeded up the process, and finishes by saying, “She really gave her best, after all.”

p.41 - In the translation Tomoyo says that the race was already being investigated for gambling issues. In the original, she says that the race was already the target of gambling, but she’d let it slide until now because it had caused very little damage.

p.43 - Kurogane doesn’t actually treat the “Daddy” nickname as a joke here - he just tells Fai to drop the subject. I wouldn’t have thought of it if it weren’t for the difference in translation, but I kind of love that he’s not actually denying that he’s the Team Dad. He just doesn’t want to hear about it.

Chapter 76

P.51 - The translation says that Shougo is a regular winner of the Dragonfly Race, but the original line just says that he’s a regular top-placer. We learn later that he won the previous year, but he didn’t necessarily place first on any other occasions. Who knows though.

Chapter 77

p.68 - Nokoru is not the Imonoyama Company owner’s eldest son, he’s the owner’s youngest brother.

p.69 - Shougo describes himself here as a “Guardian,” which quite rightfully raised a lot of questions. In the original text, the reading of the word he says is indeed given as “guardian” (ガーディアン), but the kanji below it reads “jikeidan” (自警団), meaning “vigilante corps.” Shougo declaring himself the member of the country’s vigilante corps makes a whole lot more sense given his earlier behavior.

When Shougo complains about Nokoru’s behavior, he’s not just referencing his treatment of Sakura - he says that every time they meet a female finalist Nokoru declares her innocent.

p.73 - A minor change that helps make sense of the flow of the scene here and everyone’s reactions: When Nokoru tells Sakura, “But of course you’re innocent,” his line would be better translated as, “I knew you were innocent,” or, “I see you were innocent after all,” so it indicates some kind of realization rather than just sounding like he’s repeating himself from earlier.

p.75 - This whole conversation is a little off in the translation, so to summarize from the original text: Sakura and Syaoran both registered as surprised but not panicked, indicating that they aren’t the culprits. Nokoru says that he has confidence in his device, though he can’t claim that it’s perfect - it’s still hard to discover lies told by people who have convinced themselves of their own fabrications OR by those who are truly wicked.

p.78 - You were critical of the choice to refer to the potential culprit as “he,” and I can assure you that this was purely a translation choice. It’s always good to keep in mind that Japanese is light on pronouns, so it’s very rare for anyone to specify gender in that fashion. I personally think it’s best to assume that all gendered pronouns in translations are merely inferred.

p.79 - Fai’s line about Syaoran’s face being tight is intended as an observation rather than a question, and of course is a direct reference back to their conversation in chapter 71. I don’t think I mentioned it last time and it may be clear enough from the drawings, but Fai appears to be referring not to Syaoran’s entire face but specifically his forehead scrunching up.

Chapter 78

p.89 - Sakura’s lines here are translated in a way that creates some unnecessary distance, IMO. In the translation she says, “If it was just one person alone, I’m sure it would have been awful, but… we’re all travelling together.” Her original lines are closer to, “If I were alone I’m sure it would have been difficult, but… we’re together.”

p.90 - When Sakura says, “I haven’t been much help to anyone yet,” your response was, “There better be a ‘but’ following this statement,” and I am happy to report that there is! Her Japanese line ends with “desukedo,” which is a common way to trail off at the end of a sentence and doesn’t necessarily serve as a rebuttal to her first thought, but it does allow room for disagreement.

p.92 - Inexplicably, the translation has Mokona saying that she thinks Yuuko is “really really” mad - there are no “really”s in the original.

p.93 - A clarifying point: Mokona tells Syaoran that certain countries have traditional White Day gifts rather than certain worlds. I don’t know anything about White Day traditions outside of Japan, but I do know that it’s celebrated in multiple Asian countries, so I assume this makes sense.

Chapter 79

p.111 - I don’t know if this is at all clear in the translated version, but the lines reading, “Isn’t that great,” are coming from Fai and Syaoran. They’re both saying, “That’s amazing,” Syaoran in a polite way and Fai in a casual way. I haven’t been pointing it out regularly, but it’s actually a fairly common occurrence for two or three of these characters to say the same line in slightly different ways, and it’s always a fun depiction of their different personalities and modes of expression.

p.112 - I can tell the translator tried to convey this through the word choice, but as a clarifying point, Tomoyo consistently speaks in a fashion that is both very feminine and very formal. In light of this, there’s a lot of humor in the scene where she asks Sakura to use casual language with her and claims that she’s already using her most comfortable speech style.

The translation has Fai comment on Sakura and Tomoyo’s “gentle eyes,” but his original line is that they’re “easy on the eyes.” In Japanese this saying is bit more literal - it doesn’t imply a level of attraction the way it does in English. He just means that they’re pleasant/soothing to watch.

Chapter 80

p.133-134 - The translation takes a more generous and group-oriented approach to Syaoran’s lines here, but I would interpret them on an individual level; “I have to get Sakura’s feather back, and to do that, I need to win.” The lack of pronouns in the original text means this is all up to personal interpretation, but that final panel of Syaoran zooming ahead of Sakura while she’s struggling feels like a depiction of his occasional single-minded focus on her feathers - to me it implies that he’s willing to do anything to reach that goal, even if it means abandoning her. Of course, I’m not saying he should have stayed behind to help her in this situation, but there is a bit of potential darkness to that scene that doesn’t quite come through in the translated version.

p.136 - Fun fact: the part of the course that includes buildings and billboards is referred to as the “public skyway” (一般空路.) I presume this means Piffle has regular air traffic outside of its racing events.

Chapter 81

P.157 - This becomes clear in the next chapter, but the line that’s been translated as, “There are only four badges left,” was actually, “There are still four contestants left,” indicating that the two flying behind Sakura are the last of the group and giving a clearer picture of her position in the overall race.

Chapter 82

No comments on this one - we’re ending on a high note!

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Only For A Moment Ch. 32

Master List: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: For most of your life you’d been able to keep your abilities a secret, that is until Hydra got wind of you. After years of being in their clutches, you break out when The Avengers expose SHIELD/Hydra. Since then, you’ve been on the run. Things are going as well as you could hope when you see a familiar face… Could the Winter Soldier really be in Bucharest too?

Warnings: None

A/N: I swear this is fluffy. Maybe... Idk... Maybe I don’t even know what that really means lol. Either way, it put me in my feels. 

Also, please forgive me if there’s a slight lull after this chapter. I’m a little bogged down with work but who knows, maybe inspiration will strike.  

Tags are open!

“I’ve gotta take care of some things today,” Bucky says over his second cup of coffee. You’ve drug the dining chairs to the balcony and are watching the sunrise, it’s chilly but pleasant, the peace feeling so far from the scene that took place here the night before.

“Ok,” it was such a vague statement you feel awkward prying for details. Nervously you make the liquid in your cup spin in a slow counterclockwise motion.

“It’s nothing bad, promise.” When you look over at him he smiles, “Just a day labor thing I pick up every now and then.”

“Oh!” You honestly hadn’t thought much about how he made money.

He laughs, “We can’t all be master thieves.”

It’s a joke, it stings though. You had never wanted to be a thief, had worked your ass off so you didn’t have to be. Of course, he didn’t know that. “You know thievery isn’t my main skill set.”

He squeezes your thigh gently where his left hand’s been resting as if to assure you he didn’t assume it was. “What is?”

“Well if we go off my bachelor's degree, costume design with a nice and useless sociology minor.” His brows raise. “Didn’t know your girl was college educated did ya?” It slips out, something you’d just say casually before, ‘your girl,’ but you know it means something else here.

Those eyes narrow a bit, a smile playing on his lips, but he says nothing about it. You divert, “Not that either of those is worth shit to me now…” you think. “Maybe thievery is currently my main skill set.” You shrug.

“Nothing wrong with doing what you have to.” He looks out at the lightening sky, “I was always good with my hands. Easy enough for me to find something under the table that doesn’t ask many questions.”

“Did you used to do stuff like that?” You look at his profile, lit by the rose gold morning his eyes seem grey. Something like a smile lifts the corner of his mouth, he looks down and the few strands of hair too short to be pulled up fall into his face.

“Yeah,” he tilts his head to look at you, “dock work, construction, anything that would pay really.” He flexes his right fist, “Even entered a few boxing tournaments, won too.”

“Boxing?”

“Yup. What else was an Irish Catholic kid supposed to be good at?” He picks up his mug and drains it. “Even taught Steve how to fight. Lord did I regret that later.”

You’re reminded of what he said last night about Steve, it had bothered you, “Can I ask you a question?” You’re hesitant, afraid to open some old wound, “About Steve…”

He looks at you, studying for a second, “Sure, can’t promise how well I can answer…”

“If it’s too personal I understand…”

That gentle laugh, “Nah, it’s just that… I just don’t have it all back yet is all. There’re still some blank spots.” You nod, pausing, weighing the pros and cons of posing this. “But,” he says, “talking to you seems to… help somehow.” His smile is far more impressive than any sunrise.

You sigh and dive in, “Last night… you said he did something stupider than dying…”

“Yeah.”

“What… exactly did he do?” You take a sip of coffee.

“He went and became Captain fucking America.” You choke on your mouthful and spew into your mug coughing. He laughs, big and ringing. “Don’t drown on me.”

“I just. What?!” You wipe coffee from your chin.

“I thought you knew that. You went through my books on Friday.”

“Yeah. But, I honestly didn’t look that far into it, got too freaked that you and I had the same taste in pizza and flung the thing across the room.”

He laughs, “What, hundred-year-old assassins can’t have good taste?”

“Look it was a lot to wrap my head around in a short amount of time.” You say jovially smiling at him, “I was focused on the information about the guy I chained to the wall, not the other characters.”

“Tried to chain anyway,” he winks at you. “Guess we didn’t make it into your history books.”

You shrug, “I vaguely recall some mention of Captain America from school but to be honest the whole golden boy image didn’t exactly catch my attention.” He nods in agreement and before he can say anything something else occurs to you, “Wait!” You glare at him, “How in the sweet holy fuck did I remind you of Captain America of all people!?”

He shakes his head smiling, holding up his hands, “No. No. I said you reminded me of Steve. Steve Rodgers and Captain America aren’t synonymous. At least not to me.” A little laugh escapes him, “Steve was a 90-pound stick of a kid who could hardly breathe most days but he’d be damned if he let that stop him from trying to face down every asshole in Brooklyn.” He seems to darken a bit, “Captain America was a propaganda poster boy to sell war bonds.”

That was the image of Captain America you had in your head. Cheesy star spangled images from some battered public school history text. Then less overworked but none the less poster worthy images of him after The Battle of New York you saw when you were catching up on everything you’d missed while Hydra had you. Nothing in there felt like anything someone could connect to you.

That distant look is on his face and he leans forward resting on his knees, “I remember… seeing him for the first time after. My unit had been captured, Hydra had us, they were already trying to make… him.” The sound of metal shifting, “Steve barreled in there like some fucking berserker, against orders, to pull me out.” You like Steve Rodgers already.

“He was huge, in comparison to the kid I left in Brooklyn anyway. I couldn’t believe it, thought I was hallucinating. But no, that was him. Same bullheaded ass I had known most of my life, running into fights he didn’t have a chance in hell at winning, no regard for his own safety, just now he had the body to back it all up.”

His fists flex. “I was furious. Steve was supposed to be safe, unfit for combat, and the only thing I had to worry about was him getting the shit kicked out of him at home. Now I had to worry about Nazis and Hydra and… I couldn’t keep him safe from all that.”

A hollow laugh slips out, “Guess that’s always been a thing of mine…” He looks at you, trying to smile, sitting up, “Trying to keep people I care about safe even when they’re too stubborn to let me.”

Not sure what a good response to that is you slip your hand into his metal palm and lean into his solid shoulder. For a second he doesn’t move, and you wonder if this is too much contact, then his hand wraps around your own. Slowly he buries his nose in the fluff of your hair and breathes deep. Silence wrapping around you both.

Once the pinks and oranges of the sunrise fade to blue skies you head inside. Bucky goes straight for the closet and begins rummaging around without a word. You fill both mugs, wrapping your cold fingers gratefully around the warm porcelain.

He walks back and holds his right-hand open, palm up, “Here.” At first, you don’t see what’s there but then, laying flat, there's a key. Tentatively you lift it with your power and set his mug in his hand. The key hovers for a second before you pluck it from the air, expression questioning. “It’s not like I expect you to stay locked in here like it’s some ivory tower while I’m out,” he flashes you a smile.

A key. To this place. To his place. Suddenly it feels heavier in your palm.

His eyes are on the coffee in his mug as he says, “This is… well if you want it to be…” He looks up at you with those goddamn gorgeous sapphires and says, “your home too.”

You wonder if he knows what those words really mean to you. It may have been a while ago but he had a home once, one with a family who he loved, a city that was always his. Home was always so fluid a concept for you. Constantly shifting, crumbling, or being ripped away. Home felt like love, a thing you wanted deep into your bones but that you were terrified of because it could be gone so quickly. Still…

“I…” Despite your efforts your voice cracks, betraying your emotion. Instead, you just nod. He lets out a breath, like he had been scared of your answer, sets his cup on the counter and plucks yours from your hand.

The look on his face is so happy and relieved. When he pulls you into his arms you feel safe and warm, and wanted. All the things home should be. You realize that this place is one thing but it’s him, he is home. And goddamnit you would fight like hell against anything, even the ghosts in his head and your own, to keep him.

@bluegirlusa1 @l0kisbitch @tazzi-baby @disagreetoagree @woodyandbuzz20-01 @mooniightbucky @saundrasays  @breezy1415 @alyssaj23 @mywinterwolf @wonderlandmind4 @fairislesheets  @anamcg317 @buckaroo-barness @jazztherebel @peachthatdrinkslemonade @regulusirius   @auskitty   @katecolleen @handplucked @piensa-bonito @darkdragonphoenix @issanitydead @thestorydetective @buckysstar @wintersoldierswhore @greyeyedsmile14 @watchoutforfrostbite @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @meg-asaur @jewelofwinter

[teefa85]

So I said I’d tell the story on how the Stavery Tower 11 F battle with Teefa is very important for developing a lot of my idiosyncrasies, the reason for choosing her as my screenname inspiration, and my strange connection to Arcana in general...

Under cut because it’s a bit of a long story, but a good one.  I make some jokes too, if you want to read.

Back when I was a small child, we got Arcana.  Now, I don’t remember if Dad went out to buy a game himself, we were game shopping at Toys R Us as a family, or we were at Toys R Us in general and some or all of us ended up in the game aisle.  Nor what time of year exactly (it wasn’t summer, and it had to be past May due to when the game came out so my guess is late September to sometime in October).  But that it was probably a Saturday as we were all gathered around as he began the game.

We watched the opening text crawl, and the Chapter 1 intro.  Then my Dad started walking forward since that was the direction he was facing.  The scene with Ariel happens, and he’s given Teefa as an ally.  But for a freaking change, this is my dad we’re talking about, he had his nose in the manual and exclaimed, “What?!  She’s supposed to be one of the bad guys!  Why is she joining us?”  This is not surprising...it was not only our first non-Zelda RPG, but traitors and double agents weren’t that common back in the day (and we wouldn’t have had access to 2/3 of the traitors I’d know of from before this because of not leaving Japan and being on a Genesis game while the third is clearly being controlled from the start).

But not understanding her reasons didn’t help my dad’s case at the moment.  Nor would his not looking through the menus nor reading the manual beyond the character profiles.  That’s how he didn’t realize he needed to buy equipment.  How he wandered into Balnia Temple without anything to help him.  And how he wandered in too deep, before letting Teefa become a bloody smear on the wall.  Have I mentioned that losing a single Human means Game Over (Spirits can die and be resurrected)?  Or that it was OUR FIRST RPG so we didn’t have a basis?

He continued and got himself back on track after watching the intro stuff again.  But didn’t beat the temple that day, and much of the rest of the game was played after we’d all gone to bed (as we were little and playing Mario badly or watching TV while we were up).  In fact, the next thing I saw, the fight with Ariel and the bombshell that Teefa is Salah’s sister (which the manual ALSO spoils) in Chapter 4.  And only because I was unable to sleep and came out to watch my parents play.

So I had little context in-game to feel a strong connection and little background in RPG stories (as simple as they were in the early 90s).  And yet, one Tuesday night I began thinking about Arcana as I got dressed for Girl Scouts.  I looked in the mirror, straightening that tie thing that Brownies wear, and muttered about how Teefa’s reason for helping the bad guys was OBVIOUSLY a magic spell controlling her.  Dunno why I assumed this at the time, nor if it was the day after seeing the Ariel fight or some time before (it took my dad a week to beat MYSTIC QUEST of all things...wouldn’t be surprised if Arcana took him two as he got his ass lost).  But it came to my mind and didn’t leave.

Flash forward to a Saturday or Sunday afternoon.  Dad was actually going to play with us around for a change, and mentioned getting to Chapter 5.  Now, the manual had made it seem like there were 4 chapters and Stavery was the final dungeon (it is...but Chapter 5 has you reaching the back side of the tower via a secret passage), so I was confused.  Dad led off this explanation by “It doesn’t have your music.” (the Balnia/Stavery music in Chapters 1 and 4 was my jam back then...and as this was an older game I wouldn’t have expected a unique final area song).  My response... “That’s cuz you’ve got Darwin.” 

Dad said that wasn’t the case, even though you DO have Darwin (he meant it wasn’t Darwin’s theme overriding the normal dungeon theme like it does in Chapters 2 and 4...which was my reason for not liking it as a kid even though it’s awesome).  Which confused me since he’d lost his other two party members as well.  So when I asked him who was in the party...to my surprise he not only said it was Teefa, but confirmed my actual guess about her situation!  Is it any wonder my seven-year-old mind thought I was psychic?

Because of this, I gained a special connection with Arcana in general and Teefa in particular.  Enough that I made her my username in any and everything, and the inspiration for my Head Muse.  Also...note a few of my crazy obsessions.  The number of twins born in my sequel fics (the Enduro Twins, the Maxwell Twins, The Fischer Twins, Prince Louis and Princess Marie of Paprica and Marl, even quite a few in the Muse Universe itself) considering Teefa and Salah are twins (with Teefa being older...Salah uses “Ane” and “Neesan” for her and Teefa uses “Imouto”).  Also...wanting to sob and cuddle characters who suffer because of mind control/possession as well as their immediate family (Katrea/Gilchrist family FULL STOP).

tl dr:  I guessed a plot twist with a character in the very first real RPG I ever experienced, having seen minimal scenes since my dad played at night, and it shaped a lot about myself.