#i can’t say the same about other games but i imaging they’ll get into legal trouble

[dailynarilamb]

I think I should stop responding to what’s basically a reactionary post urging people to genuinely believe COTL is being deleted. The more I respond, the more the person who @ed me gets what they want in spreading it for “awareness.”

Anyways, fuck Unity for what they’re doing and fuck capitalism. The CEO behind this bullshit is from EA and if that doesn’t explain everything, then…. The fuck am I even alive for.

[emisonme]

This will be big but i felt like sharing my thoughs. I love camila, so so much…but I feel like sometimes people are praising her too much. Camila loves fame, no matter how many of you deny it, it’s pretty obvious that she does. I’ve seen plenty of arguments on twitter regarding the 4H vs C topic and I can’t help but notice some people saying stuff like “camila didn’t choose to be in this position”, “all the girls treated her like shit when it wasn’t even up to her decide”. Well obviously I know the feud between the 5H girls was fake, but it really messes with me that people still continue to paint camila as the victim. Even tho camila may have not betrayed the other girls as they tried to make it seem, she sure as hell accepted this full of privileges position she was given since the beginning. And I’m not saying this is a bad thing, because honestly which one of us would deny such opportunity, if we were in her place? But most of us and I’m also talking about me, tend to forget that camila is also a person who has negative traits, not only positives. Unfortunately one of her biggest negatives, is that she grew to love the spotlight. And if you really think about it, it makes sense since she was always so shy around people and when she got a taste of the “pop star” life, she felt mesmerised by it. From my point of view, as soon as she got that taste she also started craving the “bigger” things. Big arena concerts, awards, people loving her. For example lauren might love her job as an artist, but she undeniably hates the fame that comes with it. She’s just in it because she truly wants to share a piece of her soul and justify the definition of a true artist. And I’m not saying that mila is not, she sure as hell wants to create art. But if you ask me, the difference between these two is that lauren would be completely content with singing in a room full of people who simply appreciate her art, whilst camila would prefer to be in an arena full of people who sing her songs and scream her name. Not that laure wouldn’t like that, but I think you get the point. And I don’t know if anyone noticed, but until a few years ago well actually before the pandemic started, her management continued to push down the image of this “goofy innocent” girl who was happy all the time. She also pushed it herself because that was her job! No matter how much we think we know her,camila is still a pop star in the music industry who plays a part, just like everyone else who works in that damned department. And based on the above I’d like to point out that (no matter how many of you disagree with this) nobody is forcing camila to stay in the closet. Yes I know I sound ridiculous but hear me out. There isn’t a single contract which can legally force someone to hide their sexuality. Yes her management may have warned her not to come out in fear of losing profits and even blackmailed her, but at the end of the day it’s her choice. If she desperately wanted to come out as we all make it seem, she would’ve done it by now. The fact that she doesn’t, should tell us, that afterall she does care about her image. Even if that’s taking a toll on her now, it was her decision to follow that path. It was her decision to stay in the closet, it was her decision to accept the pr with shawn and it was her decision to keep playing the “happy” girlfriend to the media. No matter how much she was manipulated by this hell hole, camila is a pretty clever person. If she didn’t want any of this and simply wanted to be authentic to herself and the rest of the world, she simply wouldn’t care if she lost the title of the pop princess. But she does care. And it’s completely normal at this point, cause in this industry either you lose yourself or you come out stronger. Unfortunately I believe that camila’s case belongs to the first occasion. I don’t think that present camila we see in interviews or shows or whatever is the real camila. That camila is long gone. Anyway sorry if this was exhausting and thanks to anyone who read it all,cause I really wanted to share this with someone

someone

Good Lord, Anon, that's a lot to unpack. I will start by saying, I agree with some, and disagree with some of what you had to say. Now, where to start...

You say it still messes with you, that everyone still portrays Camila as the victim. Are you going to deny that Camila WAS/IS victimized? The truth is, they were ALL victimized. They are ALL victims of an abusive Industry.

You said, "she sure as hell accepted this full of privileges position she was given since the beginning." You are either forgetting, or just plain don't care, that Fifth Harmony was a highly controlled entity. There was no choosing, or "accepting" privileges. They each did what they were told to do, said what they were told to say, and acted the way they were told to act. They were each given a role to play, and they were contractually obligated to play that role.

Yes, they were contractually obligated to act a certain way. There has been ample proof given, that none of the girls had any control over their PUBLIC image. Camila still has no control over her PUBLIC image, because there has been ample proof, she is still operating under her original contract.

Did Camila choose to sign that original contract? Yes, she did. Did she read that original contract? According to Lauren, probably not. None of them did. Did Camila agree to sign her solo contract? Yes, she did. But as I've explained before, if she wanted to continue in the music industry, she had no choice but to sign the solo contract they offered her. That solo contract is still connected to her original contract.

Camila is a human being. We ALL have positive and negative traits. Camila, all the ladies of 5H, you and me, we all have our positives and negatives. None of us are perfect.

You said, "one of her biggest negatives, is that she grew to love the spotlight." Why is that a negative? Hell, they ALL wanted the spotlight. Every person who gets into the Entertainment Industry, wants to get themselves in the spotlight. They all want to succeed in the field of their choice. To succeed, they have to garner the attention, and live in the "spotlight", in one way, or another.

Every one of them auditioned on a NATIONALLY TELEVISED talent show. They wouldn't have done that, if they didn't want to be noticed, and hopefully thrust into the spotlight of success. They ALL wanted that spotlight of success to be as solo artists. It's didn't quite work out that way. But, they ALL chose to try and achieve that spotlight as a group.

If one has been paying attention, from the beginning, Camila made no bones about her desired dream. She has stated from the beginning, she wanted to be a "pop star". Of course she wanted the spotlight. Lauren has said, from the beginning, she wanted to be "famous and travel the world". She wanted to be a famous star, in the spotlight.

Since you have chosen to compare Camila and Lauren, I'll answer to them. You seem to think there is this big chasm between the two. There really isn't. The only difference is the outcome, thus far. Lauren STILL wants the spotlight and fame, she just wants it on her terms. The problem is, it's damn near impossible to get that success on ones own terms, in an Industry that insists on dictating the terms.

That's a more recent decision on Lauren's part, by the way. You seem to be conveniently forgetting, that until 2019, Lauren also "chose" to play the game on THEIR terms. It was most likely, a two year PR contract, with a drug addicted gang-banger that turned her off of THE GAME. Lauren was pissed, that after all that, her debut album got shelved in 2019. I DON'T BLAME HER!!! I'm sure that also contributed to her decision, that THEIR TERMS suck ass.

Does Camila "crave" the big concerts, accolades, and people loving her? Yes, she does. They ALL do, or they wouldn't have signed solo contracts after putting 5H on hiatus. Instead, they would have said "this Industry sucks" and walked away. They didn't. They ALL craved more.

Lauren wants the same thing Camila has, just on her terms. Lauren doesn't "hate fame". She hates the negative side of fame. She hates having her life dictated by terms and schedules. She hates being told what to say, and how to act. She hates that fans get all up in her business.

She loves the nicer side of fame. She wants to see a lot of people come and see her perform. She loves to be on stage and see her fans singing and dancing to her music. She appreciates the accolades. She loves the love she gets from her fans. She would love even more, if her fans would multiply, and buy and stream the hell out of her music, instead of always bitching, telling her who she is, and how she should be, and getting all up in her damn business.

All one has to do, is listen to Lauren and the anger inside her about all this mess. She wants more. She wants more than a fucking "room full of people" enjoying her art. She wants a stadium full of people enjoying her art. WHO THE FUCK WOULDN'T. She just wants that stadium full of people to enjoy her art, and not expect more than that from her. I'm sure Camila would appreciate the same damn thing.

Unfortunately, that's simply not how the music industry is set up, these days. The difference is, Camila has accepted the fact, that she IS the product. Lauren has not. Lauren don't want to be a product. She wants her music/art to be the product.

I've said it a million times, the music industry hardly sells music, anymore. The music Industry sells the artist. The music has become a bi-product of the Artist. The Industry knows which artists will sell, and which ones won't. They know what image will sell, and which ones won't. Be the artist THEY want you to be, THEY'LL make you a star, and maybe even famous. If not, good luck.

Finally, you are completely right. There isn't a contract out there, that says someone can't come out of the closet. That would be blatant discrimination, and wouldn't pass the muster of the legal system. But, when you sign away control of your own image in a contract, that gives the contract holder the rights to dictate what your PUBLIC image will be. If they want you to have a straight PUBLIC image, then you'll have a straight PUBLIC image. If THEY want you to have a "good girl next door" image, then that's the PUBLIC image you'll have. You signed away your rights to be your authentic self, when you signed away the rights to control how others see you, period!!!

IN MY OPINION, Camila has come out of the closet so damn many times, I can't even count any more. She just has to do so, in a way that isn't obvious to those who have control over how others see her. Take her last video, for instance. When one listens to terms she chooses to use, and does a bit of research, you'll discover, what I believe is the hidden meaning behind that video. If I'm correct in MY THINKING, she has yet again, screamed her truth from the rooftops, for those who choose to listen, and understand.

As for the PR contracts...I was the first person to say, Camila made the choice to sign into those particular contracts. When one signs away control over their own public image, it also allows those in control to dictate that one MUST enter into PR contracts to help THEM present the PUBLIC image THEY want for that particular artist. The artist gets a say in which person that PR is with, simply because they HAVE to agree to sign the contract with that particular person.

So, did Camila agree to sign into this PR contract with the human hair ball? She absolutely did....And NO ONE should be surprised by it. It is quite clear that this shit has been in the making, since June/July of 2015. Hell, after that shit show with the British Bore, even the majority of the fandom was asking for it. The timing was right, and here we are.

Lastly, Camila is always stepping out of the closet, like I said above. IN MY OPINION, she wants her fans to know who she truly is, but that doesn't mean she wants to tell the world in definitive terms. Like Lauren, she wishes people could simply appreciate the music, and leave per private life out of it, but she also knows that's a pipe dream, and not reality.

She knows, the second she decides to speak her truth aloud, her career takes, yet another, blow. I also think, that's one of the reasons THEY, through the media, make sure her ignorant youth is continuously brought up. The more she has to fight to get through that hardship, the more she will want to keep her truth a secret. (yes, a definite manipulation tactic)

Camila could decide to say, fuck it all, and come out with her truth at any time, after her contract is up. She could also decide never to PUBLICLY come out. It's her choice, unless people in power decide to take that choice away from her.

Whitney Houston took her truth with her to the grave. Taylor lives with her truth, one foot in the closet, and one foot out. That's basically what Camila is doing now. IN MY OPINION. Her public foot is in the closet, and her music/art foot is out. If people cared more about the music/art, they would get the authentic truth. If you care more about her public image, you'll get exactly what THEY want her to be.

People try to tell you, and others this all the damn time. Take the recent interviews. If you notice, Camila, and others are always saying how vulnerable, honest, and authentic she is, IN HER ART. Her truth is in her craft, whether acting or music. Her PUBLIC image, is just that, an image to sell to the PUBLIC. Everyone in the Entertainment Industry has one...Even Lauren. Yes, she did play the game. She still has her toe in the game, she just isn't playing it at a high level, right now...and, unfortunately for her, it shows!!!

There! I answered your book with a damn novel. As always, I could be wrong with my opinions, but they are my opinions!!!!!! !! !!!!

[mxrcayong]

avatar 01.14

masterlist.

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chapter fourteen: trust

“Trust me this once.”

Johnny’s words seemed to bounce around her mind like a broken pinball machine, the ball to enter the scoring zone. Her heart felt like it was pounding – falling deeper and deeper into the pit of her stomach. The sound of the door shutting behind him resounded in the room, echoing off each wall as they momentarily sat in silence. Despite being momentary, each second seemed to feel like an hour.

But they had no time to dwell on it. Sukiara ensured it, quickly returning back to the initial subject; the plan and their tasks. “We have to assume they will be heavily guarded or equipped to handle benders, or both.” She seemed unfazed as if she was listing their grocery shopping list, even though she was obviously picturing the dangerous task ahead of them.

Jisung furrowed his eyebrows, confused. “What can handle benders? Other than the cuffs, of course.” At the sound of his voice and the panic in Sukiara’s eyes, Tari’s heart dropped further than before. He’s risking his life…he’s only two years younger than me.

Sukiara pointed to Tari, designating her the task of explaining what she had told Sukiara when she had stayed in Bak Mei for a week. “Uhm…” Her eyes still lingered on the door, praying Johnny and Kilari will burst through the door and return to their seats or praying that by some twisted means of fate, someone would come in and exclaim it’s a prank. However, Sukiara snapped her fingers – semi-breaking her out of the trance. “Uhm… when Kilari and Doyoung were attacked in the…” She trailed off, her words getting lost as she continued to pray Johnny and Kilari returned.

“The initial attacks?” Yuta finished for her and Tari smiled at him gratefully. His hand went to her knee, his thumb stroking up and down comfortingly. Hearing his voice successfully broke her out of her hypnosis on the door. She noticed Sonan and Doyoung leaning in, intrigued about what Tari had to say. They didn’t hear anything about this before, even if they were there and they felt guilty to how they didn’t notice her struggle.

“I had a hard time healing them and it felt like the wounds were…” She scrambled through her mind for the right words, “fighting back or needed extra effort to actually heal.” Tari said, still somewhat despondent. Doyoung’s eyes went wide, before his eyes quickly jumped to where Tari had healed him.

Sonan stared at Tari in shock. How did she not notice? She tried to search back in her memories for that moment, but she was a bit drunk by then. The memory was faded with missing pieces. They had drank to forget the aftermath of the attacks, and never has she hated drinking more.  

“It’s safe to assume they’ll be armed with similar materials or similar techniques.” Sukiara took over the room once more. “They might’ve been inspired by Ty Lee’s fighting style.”

At the mention of the familiar name, a flashback to a memory Tari has never personally experienced overtook her senses. This is the first time in a while that a memory from her past life succumbed her involuntarily, taking over her senses as if she was reliving the moment.

Suddenly she was in an emerald room, something she recognized not only from her memories but the textbooks on the old legendary nation of Ba Sing Se. It was dark, the emerald seeming to reflect the shadows around the room. Tari could smell the scent of tea from the throne to the perfume of the Kyoshi Warriors in front of her.

An undeniable rage grumbled in her stomach, but she wasn’t in her own body. She had no control about what she would do about this rage - Avatar Aang was in control, and always the best at suppressing his negative emotions.

She could recognize, using Aang’s hindsight, the three Kyoshi warriors as Ty Lee, Mei, and Azula. Despite the rage seeming to pump through their blood, Tari also felt pity for Azula and a sense of missing Ty Lee and Mei (probably a result of Aang’s later friendship with the two).

The pity for Azula was overwhelming now as she lived through the memory, unable to act. Azula was only fourteen and was taught to be a war machine. She was born in the same life as Zuko, and Zuko was neglected and mentally abused – even physically. In the back of Tari’s mind, another mental image of Azula being dragged away by the mental institution and jail reminded Tari of her fate.

Katara approached, starting to water bend from the small capsule of water she brought with her. But Ty Lee cartwheeled towards Katara and flipped over her. Almost in slow motion, she pressed a point on Katara’s neck – causing Katara to groan in pain before falling to her side and the same water she was bending pooling out of her body.

“A combination of pressure points and acrobatics…” Tari commented. “But do you think the materials have something to do it?”

Instead of responding directly to the question, Sukiara deflected. She let out a sigh that Tari swore was the most disappointed sigh she has heard from her in her life. “I know you don’t like fighting, but I think…” She emphasized the word Tari had used in her questions, “you have to train and be ready to fight.”

Tari’s heart dropped. How about the other benders? Can they get stuck in the crossfire?

Before Tari could object, Sukiara shouted out demands and instructions. “I will finalise the plan by tomorrow night. You have 4 days and 3 nights to prepare. Tari and everyone, please go get dressed in training attire. Yuta and Jisung, fire and earth are Tari’s least mastered elements. Please train her with it. Especially fire, so please start on that today. I will send down our bending moderator to discuss with you Tari’s progress.” She turned to the only non-bender left in the room. “Sonan, feel free to help me strategize or practice with our weapons expert.”

With that, Sukiara marched out of the room with no reaction – as if she was a robot. These were the times Tari remembers that Sukiara wasn’t her parent or her legal caretaker, but a guardian and a manager. Her priority is not her wellbeing, but her ability to do the Avatar’s purpose; to keep balance in the world.  

Tari was still shell-shocked, but she had an idea she believed Sukiara must hear. Jumping to her feet, she ran to the door frame and leaned out. From hanging out the room, she watched Sukiara walking down the empty corridor..

“Can you contact Lin?” Tari shouted down the hall, her words echoing throughout the corridor.

Sukiara turned around briefly, giving her a thumbs up, and disappeared down the hallway.

As soon as she turned around to enter the room once more, Yuta, Jisung, and Doyoung were already heading out. “Let’s train.”

99% of Tari’s childhood and her adolescence was training or doing homeschooling. Homeschooling, however, was a mere 20% as she took accelerated courses of study. She practically finished K-12 by age 12. It helped that the whole entire history being taught in classes was in her memories – she has technically lived them before. She merely had to learn other basic skills, from math to grammar. Despite that, school was always second priority compared to bending training. Consequently, training was a hefty majority of her childhood.

With that in mind, Tari can flawlessly braid her hair out of the way blindfolded. She can navigate the training centers in the island and the temples she trained at (given they haven’t changed) in a complete blackout under a night sky.

It didn’t take long before she was in the training center, biting anxiously at her nails while waiting for her ‘trainers’ Jisung, Yuta, and Doyoung. She didn’t know where to start. Should she stretch? Most likely, but she can’t seem to concentrate. She can’t seem to stop wondering where Johnny and Kilari ran off to, what Sukiara plans, or if her friends will be safe tomorrow.

In all her life of training; of knowing the procedures, of knowing every single stretch that could possibly be known to man – this is the first time in year Tari is standing in the middle of the courtyard, uncertain of what to do. As much as she dreaded training, she just wanted it to happen already so she can stop imagining how it’ll go (which, by the way, in her head – hasn’t gone well).

Within minutes, she sees Yuta, Doyoung, and Jisung walk down the steps with her bending guide. Yes, she had Sukiara as her guardian – but she had Lia Kim as her bending guide. In that sense, Lia Kim has theoretically mastered all the elements – however she’s purely a Water Bender. Resultingly, Lia monitors Tari’s growth with bending – she keeps track of what she has obviously mastered and what she has to continue in mastering.

She has many good memories with Lia. Lia always managed to make training somewhat fun – turning training sessions into obstacle courses, games of hide and seek, challenges, and just general fun. She was the only one of her ‘three main mentors’ who turned things into games; Sukiara was always in charge of acting like a parental figure while Choi Youngjun always had to be strict due to the accelerated course of education she was required to take.

Despite the group of them gracing kind smiles on their faces, Tari was still anxiously predicting any way training could go wrong – from her burning someone to them giving up on her. Tari found that her leg started shaking without her control.

Doyoung took one glance at her and noticed this; noticed her widened eyes, her lips between her teeth, her feet anxiously tapping at the ground. He didn’t know all about her past, but he knew about her now – so well, that they can communicate purely through their eyes. That’s all he needed to know, he decided.

So, he did what he did when Tari seems panicked in public; distract her.

“Honestly, I’m glad you’re practically forced to be training with me.” Doyoung smiled. “Like, if you went to the gym, I’m about 10000% certain you’d choose anyone but me to be your trainer.”

Tari felt a weight off her shoulders at Doyoung’s teasing smirk. She stood to her feet and playfully pushed his shoulder, “Yeah, because obviously you’ll somehow end up making me do something dumb. May I remind you of the fork stabbing incident?”

“THAT WAS ONE TIME!”

The sun had set, and everyone was exhausted.

Hours and hours of training only brought them to a point of giving up, but Tari refused. Jisung has distracted himself with Doyoung once more, the two playing around with a small game they created that Tari and Yuta cannot understand at all. All they know is that when Jisung manages to balance on the airball and knock Doyoung off his feet, Jisung screams in celebration while Doyoung falls to his knees – cursing any higher being out there. Vice versa can be said when Jisung is sprawled on the floor.

They saw their work as over. Doyoung, from the very beginning, just had to remind Tari of the offensive and defensive moves of Air Bending rather than the daily tasks. Jisung had a bit more on his plate, but Yuta reminded them of Sukiara’s suggestion to tackle her biggest weakness first; fire. It wasn’t a surprise when everyone agreed.

Tari and Yuta were still in the middle of the courtyard, repeating the last move Tari couldn’t seem to master. Yuta was impressed – she was quick learner. He was surprised she didn’t master it sooner, however, he noticed she was mostly good at theory. She can describe a move perfectly, but when she actually tries to do it? Something goes wrong.

He notices how she hesitates, how her foot moves out of place, how she loses concentration on the actual move as she focuses on how she could mess up.

Her head was hurting. I swear I’m doing this right. She checked everything more than a million times; her foot placement for the millionth time, the positioning of her fingers, the angle of her arms – but all she could let out was a measly fire ball while Yuta seemed to call upon the burning core of the world itself.

Yuta could sense the frustration boiling Tari’s blood and placed his hand on her back. He’s been demonstrating from a distance initially, as requested by Tari to ‘avoid getting hurt’. But he’s been in her position before – and he often feels much more relaxed with the touch of a fellow human being.

A bell chime ran through the island, alerting every one of dinner now ready in the canteen.

“Thank God!” Doyoung praised, “I’m starving!”

Jisung following behind, “I wonder what food they’re serving today.” He commented, as if to himself.  “As long as it’s not fire nation food, I’m good.” Jisung’s face turned into a painful wince as if he just ate into the spicy dish again.

The two stopped in their positions, noticing Tari not following behind. Doyoung sighed, “Tari, you need to eat.” Tari refused to answer, Yuta still hovering over her as he tried to analyse her face. It was stern – focused on the fake target placed in front of her. “Tari-“

“I’ll eat later.” She said coldly, almost as if her words were ice.

Of course, it’s not mandatory to go to dinner at the time. Mealtimes at Bak Mei last for five hours, so often, people go when they please. But Tari even missed lunch.

“Tari,”

“I’LL EAT LATER, DO!” Doyoung jumped at the change of tone. This is the first time she properly ever yelled at him, and that means a lot considering they have been roommates for approximately two years.

Yuta, himself, even flinched. Jisung’s eyes went wide. From his position as the closest to her, Yuta signalled to Doyoung and Jisung to go ahead and eat. “Go ahead.” He insisted, “We’ll catch up.” He winked at them, letting them know he’ll try his best to get her to eat.

“Go ahead, Yuta.” Tari stated, “You don’t have to wait for me, I’ll probably never get it anyway.”

“You can’t fire bend on an empty stomach, though!” He smiled, trying to charm into the canteen. She can’t say it wasn’t working; his smile was so bright, like he was radiating happiness. “Isn’t it fire nation night tonight? The food will definitely help, think of all the spice.” He made tingly-motions with his hands, making Tari’s guard fall down and letting himself chuckle.

Tari dropped her arms from the position. “Fire nation night was last night. It’s air nation food tonight.” Her voice was suddenly small.

“Even better!” Yuta clapped his hands, “My dad used to make the best dumplings. He was born in Air Temple Island actually, he actually was living with Aang.” At the mention of his name, especially while training – her heart hurt.

Was this how Aang was feeling? About fighting the fire lord? Conflicted, loss, unwilling to do it? How did he do it? Why can’t I be more like him?

The half-fire nation and half-air nation citizen smiled sadly, noticing – even under the courtyard’s dim lights – how Tari’s gaze fell to her feet with a darkened glaze. “Okay, how about this. I help you master this move. We go to dinner. And if you really want to, we do another training session after dinner. You don’t have to meditate tonight.” Yuta sighed.

Tari looked up at him; his sparkling brown eyes full of concern, his small smile. How could I say no? When she begrudgingly nodded, his small smile was replaced with a large one that showed all his teeth – his face immediately becoming brighter. She swore she wouldn’t need the courtyard to be lit up when he’s there, smiling. It reminded her of the candle fountain in the earth nation, something Lin snuck her out after curfew to show her. It was a beautiful sight.

“Okay, then, let’s get a move on because we need to get some food in you.” He teased, his hands immediately being put on Tari’s waist. At the skin ship, Tari shivered. She normally never shivers – it’s the beauty of air bending helping adjust to the temperature around her, but his touch seemed to shoot electricity throughout her. She regrets not wearing a longer T-Shirt, but she normally wears crop tops to train, especially when bending fire.

He was strong, but the way he helped Tari fix up her stance was gentle – as if she was a fragile doll. No one treated her as gentle when training as he is now, other than before she found out she was the Avatar. They always pushed her, continuously challenged her. She can’t recall every bad bruise and injury she got from training – it’s probably over a thousand. But he was treating her like she was made of glass. Her heart fluttered.

“You have to remain loose,” He nudged her feet to be wider apart, “you have to be ready to move fast so keep your heels off the ground.”

“But earth bending, your heels have to be down right?” Tari clarified.

“Yeah, but this is fire bending, babes.” Tari swears this man must know how to do lightning bending, because everything that comes out of his mouth sends electricity down her spine. He inched closer, his chest pressed against her back as he fixes her posture. His hot breath brushed behind her ear. “Keep your arms shoulder level.” His hands trailed upwards, tickling her sides, as it went to help her position her arms. “From,” His hand trailed towards her hand which is outstretched in front of her. “Bring this in with your fingers tight together as if they were glued on the sides,” Holding the back of her hand, he guided it close to her chest – as if pointing to her heart. “Turn your palm over as it faces you,” As he instructs her verbally, he’s helping guide her movements with his right hand while his left hand is still holding her hip loosely. “…and then slice the air and shoot it out.”

It all felt intimate; his lips behind her ear, his hot breath hitting it with very word, his hand against her hip. “Now, that’s the hand movements. Do you know what to do with your feet?”

Tari launched her right foot up, keeping the bottom of her foot flat towards the hypothetical opponent. “No, no, you need to point it towards the target. Pointing it makes your kick sharper and helps you move more efficiently.”

She nodded as she amended to his feedback. “Okay, perfect. Now do it without me. Remember, focus on fire. Focus on what you want. Focus on the energy you feel, the electricity within you.” He stepped back to watch her perform the move basically perfect, except for one thing. “You have to stay off your heels.”

“Ugh!” Tari could do this easily with air bending, which also emphasizes getting off your heels. “It’s just like air bending, but why is this harder?”

“Exactly,” Yuta grinned, his eyes looking down at her lips. “It’s harder because air bending is about peace, patience, liberty, and balance. That seems to be like you, from what I’ve seen. Fire?” He started leaning in, “it’s all about passion,” His voice became huskier and more hushed as he leaned even closer. His eyes glanced down to her lips, before back at her eyes.

Tari was surprised; as she found herself leaning in too. Soon, they were millimeters apart. “It’s about performance, but mostly - inner fire.” And his lips pressed onto hers.

It was as if the kiss could help them learn everything about each other, as if their lips were books about their whole lives and they just wanted to know everything. His lips were soft and moist, breathing into her lips gently as they kissed.

Tari pulled away, the heat in her cheeks not going to disappear any time soon. She felt awkward, but immediately wanted to cool the tension. “Passion, huh?” She chuckled, biting her lip and trying to hide her blushing cheeks from the cocky Yuta. “I thought fire bending was also about providing a source of life.”

The master bender chuckled. “Technically, yes. But I wanted an excuse to kiss you.”

She scratched the back of her neck awkwardly. “Uh, yeah, dinner, shall we?”

Let’s just say, Doyoung knew something was up inside the canteen when she refused to mention training and when Yuta’s leg was leaning against Tari’s under the table.

request anything for future parts / penny for your thoughts here

[ahnsael]

Two years later, the last physical remnant of the trouble I got into is going away tomorrow.

The DMV removed the restriction from my license today (it was a three hour wait, which I didn’t expect going in the middle of the week at opening time, but I’m glad I got it done -- I could have done it a month ago but was nervous about the process of getting these last loose ends tied), and after a couple games of phone tag between the manufacturer of the device and the auto shop which services it to finalize approval on both of their ends, tomorrow I get the ignition interlock removed from my car.

Now there’s just the SR-22 insurance for two more years before I can go back to regular insurance (but the SR-22 isn’t much more expensive than the regular version anyway).

We have a guy at work who’s mind isn’t in it lately. Because he just his FOURTH DUI. His third was a legal battle (three in seven years becomes a felony and involves prison time and there was a question as to whether it was from the occurrence of the first one or the sentencing and the court gave him the benefit of the doubt but then he did it AGAIN two months later). I don’t see how you don’t learn your lesson after the first one. And even if not then, the punishment is more severe for subsequent instances. So he’s looking at a lengthy prison sentence this time.

I got 48 hours. Well, technically 62 days, but 60 days were suspended pending my completion of other court-ordered responsibilities like both group and individual counseling, DUI school, a victim’s impact panel (in which victims of crashes caused by drunk drivers told their stories -- including some VERY graphic images), being under the watch of “alternative sentencing” for a year (basically that meant zero drinking, random tests to see whether I had had anything to drink, home visits to see if I had any alcohol around, all of which punishable by either a day in jail or kicking in the entire 60-day suspended sentence), having an interlock installed in ANY car I might drive for a year after reinstating my license (I only drive my own so I only needed the one, at $67 per month which from what I’m told is a pretty good price; I’ll have to pay “$50-$60 or somewhere around there, I’m not entirely sure” tomorrow when I get it removed but it SUCKS for people with no credit/debit card because it’s literally the ONLY way you’re allowed to pay, keeping low-income people without a card from being able to fulfill that obligation and that order does NOT expire a year from sentencing, it expires one year FROM WHEN YOU REINSTATE YOUR LICENSE and you can’t reinstate your license until you have the device installed -- I had to show the DMV the installation paperwork last year), and SR-22 insurance (including Statement of financial Responsibility -- that’s the SR part) for three years.

At one point as I talked to the (actually very nice) DMV lady today she asked whether I still had the device installed or whether it had already been removed. She framed it as a way to say “Show them this temporary license which shows no restriction and they’ll be able to remove it” but I’m guessing it was a “gotcha” question, as removing it before having the restriction removed from my license would have violated the restriction of my license. But I bet they get people saying “My year was up last week so I had it removed,” therefore getting themselves in more trouble (I was actually half-expecting them to want to see it in my car, maybe punch some buttons and get my latest statistics as far as “has he had any violations since the last time he had it serviced and we were sent his data?” but that didn’t happen...I also had the original installation paperwork and the original court order in my jacket pocket just in case, since I had to show both when I reinstated my license, even though they scanned them at the time -- when I first reinstated my license they forgot the restriction so I had to go back and have them put it on). I’m also wondering whether the three-hour wait was intentional, since most people are there for renewals or new licenses or to change their address or register a vehicle, and those of us in the “C” group broke the law, which was why we were there. Kind of makes me feel like they were testing our patience to see if we gave them attitude about seeing SO MANY people who got there after us called first. But I was as nice to the DMV lady as I would have been had I waited 10 minutes, and by the end the lady next to her behind the counter was complimenting my Genie tie (Genie from Aladdin -- I went there straight from work this morning so I was still dressed up from work).

An interesting aside...I shave my head, but have a beard. I asked the lady, pointing to the gray under my chin, “At what point to I change my official hair color to gray?” (the color listed on the original police report). She said it was basically up to me, and that I could even put “bald” if I wanted to since I shave my head, but sometimes the hair grows out a bit between shavings and I want to make sure I’m in compliance. But I pointed to my eyebrows as evidence of the “brown” that I put down, and she accepted that. She said switching to “gray” is pretty much up to me as long as SOME of the original color remains, but then we shared a laugh about people with completely gray hair who put down “black” as their hair color (that was when I pointed out my non-graying eyebrows as evidence that while I do have some gray in there, it still is mostly brown).

She also laughed when I said the only “stat” that had changed in the past 13 months since reinstating my license was my weight, which I upped by 15 pounds for honesty’s sake. She said she NEVER would have done that, but then I said that I used to be about 35 pounds more than I am now, so I’m pretty good with where I’m at and would rather be accurate on a REAL ID-compliant license -- even though weight fluctuates, the weight I put is my average these days.

And after I got a little worried about phone battery after playing cell phone games for an hour, I then spent the next two hours *almost* finishing Rolly Crump’s book “It’s Kind of a Cute Story,” which I hadn’t picked up in so long that the Kindle app had updated and completely forgotten where I had left off (I only realized that I read two chapters that I had already read when I came upon a section that I had highlighted). I’m about halfway through the last chapter now. The Kindle app takes a LOT less battery than playing a game that has to communicate with the internet (especially since the DMV’s WiFi was worse than Disneyland’s as far as reliability, which is kind of saying a lot).

But anyway, other than the (only slightly) higher insurance bill for the next two years, all of this kerfuffle will be behind me tomorrow. No more breathing into my car before I can start it. No more worrying that “I bartended this morning, and I spilled some on my pants...will the interlock pick that up and fail me? (it happened a couple times, as did using an alcohol-based window de-icer this winter and then having the fumes from the can in the car when I tried to start it; I learned to leave the can outside the car after using it, but there are “rolling tests” where they are trying to see if you drank after starting the car and have six minutes to provide a passing same of breath and so I would have to pull over, remove the can, and then re-take the test to make sure I didn’t get COMPLETELY locked out -- I did have violations based on this, but found out a week ago when I emailed the DMV that it takes four consecutive months of such violations for the terms of the interlock to be extended, even if I had to air out my car before I could successfully start my car at the time).

After those violations, I was worried my time was going to be extended, so I was SO happy to receive a reply from the DMV last week telling me that they had looked at my records, and I was good to get the restriction removed. I had thought ANY violation would result in “more time with this thing in my car.”

And on the WAY to the DMV...I ran into a problem I’ve run into a couple times in the past couple months.

Ever since getting the interlock serviced in December, I’ve had issues with it rebooting itself.

Now, if you turn off the car with a pending test, that’s another violation. And the thing would tell me to breathe into it (it’s actually more throat-humming with this device -- it prevents someone taking a lungful of fresh air and then breathing in to beat it; humming in your throat means air from INSIDE of you is going through and it can detect alcohol you maybe thought you could hide).

So there have been times I’ve driven to work, parked, and just before turning off my car the interlock would ask for a “rolling test.” I couldn’t just turn my car off. That would be a violation, which the DMV would hear about. But if I picked the device up and it went blank as I blew into it, then said “Initializing,” I learned NOT to turn the car off (the hard way, when I got a violation for it). Just sit there in the parking spot, engine running, and wait for it to ask for a test again.

On my way to the DMV today, though, the device wanted a “rolling test.” Which I expected. The first “rolling test” can be 5-10 minutes after starting the car, and subsequent tests come every 45 minutes to an hour (and you have six minutes to provide a breath sample before you are locked out). When I drove to Disneyland in September, I can’t even guess as to how many tests I had to take as I drove, to make sure I was still sober.

But today, it asked me to re-test. I did. I heard the tell-tale “click” by my left knee that tells me it just sent a signal to the car that it’s okay to restart if I shut it down. But instead of “PASS” on the screen, the screen was blank. Then it said “initializing.” Then it asked me to test again with a beep. I did so. This time, it not only made the click on my ignition switch to turn it on, but said “PASS” -- fir about a half-second before going back to “INITIALIZING.”

When it came back up, I only had two minutes and 30 seconds left to provide a sample. I thought, “If this thing keeps resetting itself, I’m going to get a violation on the way to the DMV for permission to remove this.”

Fortunately, on the third try, the test was passed WITHOUT the device restarting itself (I am SO glad to get rid of this thing because it’s been doing this a lot for the past two months and while I’m passing the tests, it doesn’t always KNOW that I pass the tests before rebooting itself).

But at 10:00am tomorrow, I get this thing OUT of my car. If it’s anything like the installation, I’ll be there for about an hour. Which will still beat my wait time at the DMV today. I’ll probably finish Rolly Crump’s book and then either play some video games on my phone or start something new to read, like the continuations of the book which I’ve already bought.

But video games are more likely -- this shop, as I’ve seen personally and heard from other customers, does not only good work, but QUICK work, so I don’t want to get too into reading and then be disappointed when they have it done.

[zeroglitchtic-blog]

Here To Change It All...

Hey Guys -

So hmmm… What can I say? Ok, well I have been working on this Business Plan for the past 13 years. I took the past 13 years and developed a final plan to solve Homelessness, Poverty, and Sexual Exploitation. It took me around 3 years just to get an idea about and to learn how Crypto Currency can fund the entire business. Unfortunately due to Crypto Currency Mining the video cards I need for it are about $4,500.00ea. And I need 20 of them to complete one Build. On another note I invented a game app and the other night I invented another App idea too. It will be cool to get them made for real. Right now I’m kind of in an obsession with this Pastel Goth look and I want to create my own look by taking some Bell Bottoms from this company called Gypsy Rose and a cool Hoodie and then order Bulk Boxes of the same color Boas and a Hemp Back Pack and some clothing LED Lights and to sew them on to the clothing really carefully to get an amazing look and to buy some books on Cosplay Makeup, Glam Makeup, and Tutorials on Makeup for Black People and create my own Glam Goth look. I want to produce the images into products for my new store when I open it. I have worked for over a decade on my plan to rescue the homeless, people in need, exploited kids and adults and it took me three years of researching Ethereum Mining to0 figure out how I would fund my company. One NVIDIA.com Video card will cost me around $4,500.00 to get the best one they have and the most profitable of them and my build that I designed takes 20 Video Cards and brings in around $10K/mo. So I’ll make Hundreds of Thousands of them and fill every business location I gets basement with as many Builds as will fit and warehouses full of them too. Once I get going a lot of people will want for little anymore. I told my fiancé that I would set him up with another personal place of his own, like a loft or something and have several Ethereum Miners there just for him and I’ll show him how to use them and make money with them so that we’ll be on more equal footing and I’ll have legal documents setup that will supply him with his own place and no matter what our relationship turns out to be that I can’t cut him off or affect him in any way to upset his stability and financials. I hope to have it setup before we get married. I plan on having several locations to live over time but one of the very first locations that I get and setup is going to be a three bedroom apartment that I’ll setup to be displayed on my company’s home page in the same way that a 365 degree display of Real Estate Property is displayed except that I hope to use the help of Ad Agents to have special products setup, like displays from Coca Cola, and other Brands and to get the Companies displayed to provide donations for the advertisements.

I hope to land contracts that are with like laundry soap and cleaning supplies and brands of Pre-Paid Credit and Gift Cards, and Electronics, etc. To use only their brands at my locations for special discounts or with some kind of residual donations from them, so things like Bed Bath and beyond and Companies that sell bedding and so on. I hope to get special accounts or even to open Hundreds of Reseller Accounts and purchase from my own accounts. I’ll have fractureme.com High Def Glass Photos hanging on the walls that display images of homelessness and people living in poverty, etc. As the artwork and otherward the location will be setup with Height of Technology in i9t and Luxury and excellent decorations and renovations with new smart appliances and if possible in home laundry too. The entire apartment will be setup to look as if a family lives there that has two kids, a boy and girl and the rooms will be fully setup and stocked with clothing and desks and school supplies, software, text books, reading books, game stations and games, CDs, DVDs, Anime, and Desktop and Laptop on the bed with MP3 Player and cell phone on its charger and even a few pieces of trash in the trash cans and so on, even the adults rooms will be setup the same with a Home Office and files in the living room, etc. Every room will come with their own safes and have finger print and key pad locking doors and in the safes will c0ome an envelope full of cash and several types of pre-paid cards. The computers will be top of the line and Extreme types, totally maxed out, with extensive external Hard Drives and full of useful software that is fully paid for and more. Once the 365 degree walkthrough Video is made than everything will be packed into specially positioned glass cases for display, so like the laptop, cell phones, digital cameras, camcorders, Gift Cards, and some other things will go into displays so that when there are walk trough's to help gain donors less can be stolen easily. I will spend a lot of time setting up the location with a simply safe security system and register everything in the apartment with renters insurance and register them with their own individual companies. I’ll have the entire place setup with services and each room with smaller Ethereum Miners that work and are actively earning money and have monitors on the walls that display the earnings and exchanges pricing in each room. But the apartment will be maintained by my financial Company that I get. Every Account would be active, the lease, the cable, the Home Phone, mobile phones, Internet, and all the individual emails, and all the software will be registered to those emails and even Turn-Key online businesses and so on setup as examples and displays for the apartment and newsletters, and more with ads for the Turn-Key Businesses. The files in the Offices and kids rooms will hold the Hard Copy files of all the Accounts and Registration Info and Gamer Info. Emails and Advertisement info and more, including the online versions, Browser favorite links, and profile saves, address books filled out and more. It seems like a lot but every tiny detail will be through of from every item being photographed and filed with their own insurance, registrations, and receipts, to even unique personally searched out and handpicked USB Drives that are installed with PortableApps.com software and paid versions of the software on those apps and all of it filed and registered both digitally and in Hard Copy.

And there will be a personalized welcome Manual for each person and all their accounts and how the apartment works, the Wi-Fi locks, the smart TV Accounts, their personal safe’s codes, and every computer log-in, how and where to find all their Hard Copy and Digital Account info and if something comes up missing or breaks how to file for renters insurance to replace it and police reports and how to contact their financial Agent for financial Aid and for when they want to go to college or to file a new bill or account for them to manage and also how their personal Ethereum Miner earns them their own money so that they are not tied to their financial allowance’s leash. There will be so much attention to detail because it will be the display house/apartment used for fund raising. It will be decorated and setup with extra details like Artist’s Piggy Banks around the rooms to collect donations and drop safes for people to donate Pre-Paid Cards and Checks and Cash, cell phones and I’ll have a Turn-Key Business in the home that people can buy and donate gift cards and cell phones, clothing cards, and tablets, laptops and to donate money by credit cards too. I’ll even setup cat climbing towers in all the corners and High End cat walks and rests on the walls and toy holders, etc. even Automatic cat boxes that clean and wash their own litter and cat supplies and dog products if the apartment allows dogs and more considerations that are suited for hosting gatherings and even just ease of today’s technological society like a moveable arm under a cabinet in the kitchen that holds a water proof tablet that is dedicated solely to cooking sites, and Home Food Delivery services. There will be cool little personal touches too from unique USB Drives to interesting lamps like this collectors Yoda Lamp and displays of air plants and even like on the desks will be pencils and pens with my company’s custom website on them and possibly even Antique Typewriter on a typing desk with several boxes of extra ribbon and Company Letterhead Quality Paper stacked next to it, possibly with a sheet in the type writer with the beginning page of one of my novels on it or a letter addressed to my First Business Location. And a typed and stamped addressed envelope next to it. I’ll do things like add magazines to the coffee table and things like expensive items will get locked inside display cubes or fastened to where they are. But most of the place will be meant to be fully interactive and the greeters and Hosts of the Donor Parties will be able to show the guests the fully interactive features of the apartment and all of its services, etc. From Posters on the kid’s walls and little Anime and Action Figurines to online Gamer Merchandise of in-game-content from the most popular games like Fortnight and stuff and most of the Books and movies will be excellent Sci-fi Hard Copy Novels of the Greats and books I’ve Loved. The Anime will be Deluxe Full Seasons with all the extra content and really cool 0ones and really good DVD Collections that are kid appropriate and in the parents room they will have more Adult titles like the complete Silence of the Lambs and Hannibal TV Series and Dexter Series, and John Wick Series and other Good Ones and in the kids room will be Ultimate Gamer Setups in a relaxation area away from sight of the desk so the kids won’t game and watch TV while they do homework and out of the bed area so they can have a shut down time and not game and stuff while they are supposed to shut down and sleep and they’ll have an Xbox, Play Station and Gamer Computer with all the VR and Bells and Whistles and even google Home Video Slate Devices on their Desk and By their Beds. The home will have several of them by each sitting area and then the Dot versions mounted on walls around the halls and a water proofed one in the bathroom so that there is whole home connectivity along with all the Tablets and Laptops and PCs connected to the Norton Secured Network as well as smart lights and even security cameras and a Door Peep Hole Device that Projects a large Video of who is at the door and takes photos of who comes to the door and sends it to the owners phone and that also allows for smart lock activation. The apartment will be the epitome of Beauty, Luxury, and Comfort and people that come to the home will be able to view installed manikins that are wearing company uniforms for all around seasons and types, the most expensive being the Winter ne that comes with heated gloves and socks and shoe insoles and Extreme Cold Military Boots and heat shell Jackets and full snow outfits. The outfits will come with their own pedestals that will have fliers on them that explain what the services that they go to are and the equipment needed for each one, like the House Keeping one, the Personal Assistant, the Odd Job, and snow removal, the Food Delivery one and like how much it will cost for the work vans and trucks and snow blowers and shovels and painting/cleaning supplies and the storage unit rentals for the equipment and cost of the uniforms that will each have my company Logo Embroidered on them and on each will be an employee Tag just like all employees will have. Another presentation will be video presentations played on loops on the screens in the living room that explain how my company will hire students fresh out of colleges that are entering the fields of nursing, psychology, and social work, legal aid, and about the services that will come with my company that will help any homeless person with absolutely nothing and addiction issues fully recover their lives with personally adapted services and complete financial support so that even if they are dealing with drug issues that they won’t need to sell their new property or prostitute for funding and that they will receive full support while they attend to their rehab needs as well as fully paid trade and college schooling and financial investments that are everything from timed trust payouts at major age milestones, to retirement and regular funds for travel around the world. There will be full employment programs inside my company and in the mainstream markets and my company will pay companies to keep employees hired and to hire people in need as well as options for customers that do things like use our yard service as incentives to keep my employees hired like getting major yard work done, in ground lawn sprinklers installed and landscaping, home repairs, and other improvements and upgrades to their utilities and home like the best water heaters, Hot Tubs, new Fences and so on to keep my company on contract for lawn care and snow removal and housekeeping and food delivery and so on. It will all be done by professionals in the fields when done and then my clients will up keep it with a flawless and no questions asked insurance and replacement process in case something is ever broken or stolen and there will be tons of other services since everyone in the world suffers from some state of poverty and need, that my company will collect even my customers into my fold and provide them with financial aids, paid schooling, debt payment, and doing things like picking up car and home payments and medical needs. Some families that have Autistic Children or Severally Handicapped family members or people with major medical needs or who are getting too old to take care of those family members, my company will search out and supply them with things like 24/7 live in Aids and money for uncovered medicines or experimental Treatments that their HMOs won’t cover and cosmetic Treatments and more. My company will do more than just that. I’ll use schools of Architecture to create fortified locations of Housing for over 100 Ethereum Miners that will bring in over $1 Million per month and have them built into schools so that teachers will be able to receive Top Pay and the schools will have more than enough for the best in school supplies and equipment and teaching Aids and like an example would be that the limited language learning classes would have a full computer network setup with every language that Rosetta Stone’s Language software offers and every student will have the ability to choose what language to learn. There will be funds for every extracurricular activity and my plans are to adopt the Chinese and Japanese attendance unit where kids swipe in and out of classes except I’ll make it so that kids will actually get paid cash to attend classes and to do homework and extra credit and science fairs and if they aren’t doing well to get tutors and to help others and that it will do things like give economics classes real money and be able to do real things with the money and learn firsthand and school papers and news how to do very real publications and run ads and more. My company will invest in local Mom & Pop shops and the community and get them to keep selling at rock bottom prices but selling High End Products so that the struggling community that uses them will suddenly be able to afford things like really good toilet paper, and snacks for their kids and eat well every day and even though I won’t be able to reach everyone and help the whole city, by proxy the community will become happier and their mood change will make the community better as a whole. I’ll do the same for places that serve food and coffee shops too so that they can drop their prices and use better quality foods and cleaning supplies and decorations and pay better because than the community will be able to come out and eat more and have more family experiences to build a healthier family around and memories and the community will become stronger for it. I’ll do things like take a Digital Camera and GoPro and go to every run-a-way shelter, and battered woman’s shelter and Underground Railro0ad project and Drop-In Center and Teen Challenge Center and photograph the entire area and interview everyone and find out what they need and what needs fixing and what they wish they could provide and install the best beds and most comfortable sheets and fluffiest comforters and turn them into wonder locations and expand their services and get all the kids and people new clothing and school supplies and make it rain and put them on above comfortable expense accounts. I’ll do the same for Orphanages and Un-Adopted kids that are too old, all the while setting up Luxury Apartments and Auction Houses and emptying out every shelter and soup kitchen and giving these Betrayed Souls what society should have done for them from day one. There are a million tiny things that I’ll be doing and I’ll write you all about them in upcoming letters. It took me 9 years to figure out how to do all this and it will take major Donors and Corporate Donors for me to afford to build enough Ethereum Miners to afford to do it quickly. But I’m going to dedicate the rest of my life to thi9s. Mommy Anne is giving me a $10,000.00 Trust and I’ll put it into my first beginner Ethereum Miner and it will only earn me about $2K/mo. And I’ll have to save and buy more of the best NVIDIA Video Cards and add to it. My build will hold 20 Cards and cost me around $88.505.70 to complete and make me around $10K/mo. when done. My goal is to reach 100 builds as fast as possible using Kickstarters.com and every crowd funding site on the internet and every social media network from around the globe. My work won’t just start and stop in Minnesota or even the USA. Once I am at a point where I have enough Ethereum Miners I’ll be able to expand them at a rate of 50-100 or more at a time creating $1 Million/mo. Jumps in income and higher with more donors and my work will jump boarders and I’ll hire kids and young adults from ar0und the world to locate and rescue their needy and sexually exploited and Brothel Children and people living in Poverty. I just hope I can do it fast enough to see it all happen before I die. I would start gofundme.com and kickstarter.com and dozens of other crowd funding sites and spread them across every social media and network possible but I need a cell phone. I’d also write to several Ad Agencies and give them a rundown of my plans and what I want them to do and have them create the Crowd Funding Ads for me because each site is different, has different formats, options for photos and Banners, and voice and the amount of words for each site and burn them onto disc for me and label them so that when I get out all I have to do is cut and paste and upload image 1,2,3 into spot 1,2,3 and know that there’s no grammar errors and I don’t come off sounding like a scam artist but I have no money for that. I’d also like to get Uncle Steve to help me setup my Business Financials so it’s fully tax exempt and so I can do angel giving like write random checks or give out cash or life time paid phones and more and write it off but he refuses to acknowledge me. Anyways… I haven’t written or spoken too many of you in over a couple decades and I wanted to tell you about my new life. Oh I’m an ordained Minister now too. There are several fun things that I want to do that are just to do because they are fun and good for the kid at heart and things that all kids wish they could do. I want to invest a lot into kid’s lives and their fun factor so I want to do things like get big into street fashion from around the world and to create an opportunity for kids to dress in amazing outfits from Japan and that are High Fashion and Cosplay styles and totally awesome so that going to school and dressing up crazy and amazing just becomes a daily part of life. In schools I want to start Drone Racing Programs with Regulation Drones and awesome courses. I want to get schools into robotics and nautical robotics and aerial Drones and to inspire kids to create water cleaners and air cleaners and alternate fuel and to program the most popular Virtual Reality World Communities as classes and to setup classes that have real life work training to them like how to use complicated office copiers and corporate email systems and multi-line phone setups and digital faxes and to change toners and create orders and write and produce proposals for meetings and run projectors and make digital presentations transfer from your personal office to the proper conference room on time and run flawlessly and to be able to do it using multiple types of software and types of the leading tools found in companies today.

I want to create several Safe Zone Houses in Drug Zones that were “Trap Houses” where people use drugs or sell drugs out of and clean them out and fix them up really well and set them up to be locations that street kids can come and Game and to get Hot meals and Great sandwiches at any time Day or Night and that people can come and get Hot Showers and wash their clothing and get Hygiene Products and fresh underwear and new clothing and shoes and Back Packs and school supplies and can get medical care from the nursing staff and have emergency beds Sometimes prostitutes and Drug Addicts need a hot shower, some good food to eat and a place that is safe to sleep at night behind a door that locks where they can feel safe for a moment in the Hell they are experiencing and a locker and safe to lock their property in so that they know that they can actually fall completely asleep without fear that someone will go through their pockets or demand sex. I want to setup each room with as much luxury and comfort as I dare with addicts coming and going and kids without safe homes. I want the beds to be super comfy and to even have weighted blankets and body pillows because weighted blankets give people a sensory feeling of safety and comfort and body pillows allow people to cuddle with someone who takes nothing in return. That is important. The bed must be super comfy and cozy, with too many pillows with a sitting chair that has a throw on it and book case filled with great novels and Manga Books and Built in Computers with a wide variety of Downloaded music and complimentary MP3 Player and paper for writing and an Antique Typewriter with Letterhead typing paper and Envelopes with a sign that says “free mail service down stairs.” I’ll have a laser printer attached to the computer and scanner and hookups for phones available. There will be a decent sound system and gaming counsel with downloaded and installed games on it and Xbox Live Account Active and setup, all secured so it can’t be stolen. There will be an intercom system and by the bed sweets and pamphlets for my Life Recovery Services. The rooms will not be meant for long term stays, usually just one-three days unless there are special and extreme cases. In the common areas will be ultimate gaming setups and multiple mounted TVs that have the ability to connect to wireless headphones so people won’t have to compete for sound if they are watching multiple TVs at once. In the back area will be a full computer lab and education center setup for kids and I’ll have staff that can help anyone with school work they need to get done. Like I said there are a million little things that I plan on doing with my Business. I found a vending company that allows for digital pricing and for an extra $900.00 I can add a credit card processer to it so I’m going to set several types up in different locations. I’m going to use retro ones that take coins and place them in apartment complexes that dispense single serve laundry detergent boxes and fabric softener packs and snack machine pop machine mixes. Than in some locations I’m going to use sources of pre-painted and sculpted fingernails that you can buy off line like on Etsy.com, Tumblr.com, and other sites and put them in machines that are at like malls and possibly schools and arcades and places kids go and have them wired to process credit cards and then put in random packs Pre-Paid Credit Cards with High Balances and advertise the chance to win one. I plan to run donation funding campaigns so that I can afford to supply them free and laptops with paid wireless PCI Cards for free to the kids at St. Jude’s Cancer Research Hospital and other Hospitals and Mental Health Programs that can’t afford to provide them for their patients but who’s patients need a distraction from their extreme illnesses and to do something with their families when they come to visit and for patients to be entertained by with their families. Something that happens to every person with a mental health issue that goes into the mental health system is that they end up losing every possession that they own and their entire apartments full of their lives get tossed in the trash. It’s happened to me 13 times and when I was young and pretty I ended up prostituting to replace over $26,000.00 of property some times. And so do many others. So one thing I’ll do is setup an apartment and property cleaning and packing service that washes all the dirty clothing and sheets and dishes and surfaces and professionally packs everything properly in bubble wraps and garment bo0xes and move and packs the entire apartment, moving it to self-storage units that the patients social security will pay for and for the paranoid patients photos and videos of the process will be taken and delivered on DVDs and the entire apartment will be cleaned and painted back to white with fire resistant paint so that their deposit will get returned to them. Because the mental health system never slows down from sending people back to mental hospitals the business will be a stable service from the start. I want to do some really cool things for kids in schools and all around on buying they super amazing clothing from Japan and China and other fashionable street looks that they normally couldn’t get or are too expensive for them and their families. There was this young boy that actually did it for his school but he got suits and proper fashion and I think it’s really important for kids not to lose that childhood part too soon so instead of suits I want to buy them awesome clothing that fits their aesthetic and that is beyond their reach financially and make it really fund and cool to be able to dress in their own uniqueness and not the regular jeans and T-Shirts. I am also going to download countless tutorials on how to do Beauty Tips like nails crafting, Hair and Makeup techniques from the simple to the extremely complex and to create DVD Collections of all of them and put them in special DVD Cases that hold 10 and 20 DVDs and maybe over 100 Tutorials and then sell them in Genre collections in magazines like Teen Beat and 17 and Girl Magazines. I’ll also do the same for people that are into crafting from the easy to really technical and some from landscaping to building computers and smart mirrors and more and collections of clothing patters and fashion techniques and cosplay techniques and more and sell those in collections in their genre of magazines too. I’ll do the same with cooking tutorials and recipe collections that are all both video and photos and print .pdf formats. I’ll do genres of Home Design and Projects from hanging pictures to making gardens to extreme projects like building underground Prepper Bunkers. Most of these collections I’ll build up over time I spend surfing the internet. I do a lot of Data Mining and read and learn a lot because I'm curious but now I’ll have focused products to create. Something else that I’ll do is assemble teaching tools for classrooms by using paid accounts on sites like curiosity stream and locating lectures and explanations on sciences and other subjects from simple math to high level theoretical math, sciences, biology, space science, robotics and AI, Virtual Worlds. I’ll even put together sex education presentations of different types and present them to multiple schools for review. Some schools don’t allow real sex education, some teach abstinence, others only teach STDs and so on. It will be a balancing act. Some might want diagrams and some might actually allow real images of sex organs and then there are practices of different cultures to consider and explanations of circumcisions and the Muslim culture that clip or burn off female baby’s clitoris and the explanations of their shawls. There are the full stories behind puberty and when females go through maturity and what they need to do when that happens. The changes in Boys and Girls the ages they change at, Birth Control, options of rape pregnancy pill options and the ways that people can give up a child if it’s too much for them instead of killing it. How adoptions work, the options of sperm donations, egg donations, and surrogacy, the birth process, C sections, and vaginal bi9rths, the drugs (epidermal) the effect of drugs and alcohol that will go through breast milk into the baby and HIV and how HIV is inside Breast milk. Types of parenting same sex parenting and relationships and even same sex rapes and domestic violence and more. The healthy beauty behind same sex relationships not just straight ones. Also things like medical issues, Handicaps, Autism, and more and pre born and medical dangers that can happen and what to do, ways to prepare for if your baby has a disability and more. It may take a ton of work to do but once a school accepts the educational program the work will be worth it. I want to create Job skill development programs and more. I want to actually change the entire education system. And the Prison Reform system. I’ll write more about those things in another letter. I (have a ton of personal experiences that give an insight into the world that most people don’t have and motivations that people don’t understand why someone would spend a fortune only to give it all away again. The thing is that money and wealth mean nothing to me. It’s just an annoyance and an obstacle and a social retardant. My Business will solely be about making people and their lives and futures and not about making profits and products. My entire life has consisted of setting up stages and being an advertisement so that I could make money and void of friendships, love, or connections, not even to my own family which has been my greatest sadness. Mommy Anne has been my only connection to hearing about my family’s lives and what’s going on with them my whole life and Aunt Barbie writes me about her farm life but that is about it. Rarely do I get a letter from Julia or Aunt Beverly. Once I went 5 whole years without coming into physical contact with another person or speaking to anyone and I think it really freaked mommy Anne out that I’m not talkative or Haggier but I’ve been conditioned as a child and again since the age of 11yo. When I entered the mental Hospital Systems and group homes never to touch or hug anyone because it’s not supposed to happen in hospitals and group homes which is where I was raised for 89% of my life. I’ve maybe spent 10 hours with my own Brother during my entire life and maybe spoken with him about half that without having actually any meaningful exchanges other than casual polite conversations not counting just being in the same location at the same time. And dramatically less with the rest of my family. I mainly just dressed nice and sat around waiting to be talked to or asked questions. I faced Addiction, Mental illness, multiple sexual assaults, rape that left me with HIV, Contracting HIV, Homelessness twice, forced prostitution, Two Attempted murders on me, a Home invasion and six suicide attempts and child abuse and a laundry list a mile long including starvation and eating out of dumpsters because I refused to prostitute alone without even a card from my family like “Hey sorry you got HIV” or “Too bad you ended up with a mental illness for 30 years” or “Hey heard you are struggling with addiction, that’s rough.” or “hey your homeless, it’s not much but here’s $20 get some dollar burgers at McDonalds.” or “hmmm… raped! Rough.” or “Hay when you are going to bring a boyfriend to X-Mass?” or “Suicide, wish you wouldn’t do that we like having you around.” Once I went into the Hospital after a suicide attempt that involved 3 cop cars pulling me off a ledge on the side of a parking ramp and I weighed 118lbs. I usually weigh 175-180lbs and that is skinny for myself. I know things like friendships and Love from a boyfriend and happi9ness because of the absolute void of it in my life. I know it perfectly and intimately on a deep level because I have never experienced it. It’s an odd kind of knowledge to have. I use to watch YouTube videos and Troll peoples feeds, not so much as to observe their lives as much as to see what they had on their bedroom walls and what they wear and what was around them and try to figure out what it was that gave them all the feelings and excitements and joys in life that I never knew. All my life I never had a single poster on my wall or anything that wasn’t a tool for survival, no plants, no color paint on my walls, nothing that would display warmth or comfort or personality or a Home. And it was all trappings of a stage set that I occupied but never truly lived in. The only thing that had decoration or meaning of any kind was inside my Computers and Hard Drives and my Data Mining Collections of Music, .pdf files, photos, and social media and blogs and modeling photos. Outside of the digital world I had nothing but pain and suffering, rage, and sadness, and isolation, and complete loneness and mental and emotional damage that eventually became so vast and so deep that I had to use as much drugs as possible not just to fight it back and numb myself to it but to even remove myself from the equation, for many years I just stayed alive out of spite of it all. It was one thing that broke me out of my inner bondage and that was a homeless man that I’d passed over a dozen times and he always sat in his spot and I saw him that morning while going to a client’s house and then that night after dancing into exhaustion at a club. It was late and the snow had started to fall but in a ring around his body was a bare circle from his body heat and he hadn’t moved all day. Across the street was a Target and the man had nothing, no food containers around him, nothing. People had walked by him all day and shopping at Target and no one thought once to go across the street and give him a pop or can of soup and I had been a prostitute for years helping dozens of homeless kids and minors with a safe free place to stay, even pulling tricks to pay other people’s rent and maxed out two credit cards buying a fellow meth addict food and toiletries and that one man sat there all day, every day and no one helped him and Target Managers never gave him a job. Shortly after that I came to this Center and for the last 13 years here in this long term treatment program, every single day for hours a day and deep into the night I have written thousands of pages in Journals, collected every magazine and catalog I could find, filled over 45 journals with notes and resources and links and scrap booked and spent my Dad’s entire $4,800,00 inheritance money from when he died on Business Manuals and researched Crypto Currency for 3 years, read 5 books on it and spent years going to every site in the books and checking them out, watching YouTube videos, going onto bulletin boards and blogs until I learned what I needed to learn to design the most powerful Ethereum Miner possible all the while with a goal to end Homelessness, Unemployment, sexual exploitation and to improve the world and fought for years just to have the right to use my free time to write and study. And I solved it. I figured out a social service Business that will fully recover almost anyone's life and it has finally given me an ounce of peace. Now I just need the people here to give me the chance I need to get out and do it and to live a better life than the one that was quickly killing me. I’ve spent 13 years working on my plans and there are a lot of them and I hear repeatedly to focus on one thing but what people don’t understand is that it is all one thing. I’m not helping one or two people. I’m helping over 30,000 homeless people and exploited kids and people living in poverty. One thing can’t solve that. An entire population of people not only need money but a place to live, jobs to support themselves, and other help and those helpers need to get paid and other communities need fortifications to help the rest of the population that is in need and it’s not for one summer or one year or even 30 years. Every year hundreds of kids become exploited, thousands become homeless and more live in poverty and the cycle will continue long after I’m dead. I have to start building the strongest foundation possible that will last and support generations of people now and long after I’m dead and that won’t happen with me getting a pizza delivery job or a lawn mowing business going. I have to start something so revolutionary that those that pick up where I leave will one day be able to change the lives of Millions of people in need and people in need around the world and it will take Huge Donors and Crowd Funding and rewriting of policies and dismantling of antiquated industries and building new ones.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

#1yrago Not in our name: Why European creators must oppose the EU's proposal to limit linking and censor the internet

The European Copyright Directive vote is in three days and it will be a doozy: what was once a largely uncontroversial grab bag of fixes to copyright is now a political firestorm, thanks to the actions of Axel Voss, the German MEP who changed the Directive at the last minute, sneaking in two widely rejected proposals on the same day the GDPR came into effect, forming a perfect distraction (you can contact your MEP about these at Save Your Internet).

These two proposals are:

1. "Censorship Machines": Article 13, which forces online providers to create databases of text, images, videos, code, games, mods, etc that anyone can add anything to -- if a user tries to post something that may match a "copyrighted work," in the database, the system has to censor them

2. "Link Tax": Article 11, which will only allow internet users to post links to news sites if the service they're using has bought a "linking license" from the news-source they're linking to; under a current proposal, links that contain more than two consecutive words from an article's headline will be illegal without a license.

We're all busy and we all rely on trusted experts to give us guidance on what side of an issue to take, and creators often take their cues from professional societies and from the entertainment industry, but in this case, both have proven to be unreliable.

In a recent tweetstorm, Niall from the UK's Society of Authors sets out his group's case for backing these proposals. As a UK author, I was alarmed to see an organisation that nominally represents me taking such misguided positions and I tried to rebut them, albeit within Twitter's limitations.

Here's a less fragmented version.

Niall writes that Article 11 ("link taxes") will not stop you from linking to the news. That's just wrong. If you don't host your own blog on your own server, you'll going to posting your links from one of the platforms, either a multinational, US-based company like Facebook, or a smaller EU competitor. Under Article 11, you can't link to a news-site without a license.

Article 11 doesn't actually define what a "link" or a "news site" is (this is a pretty serious oversight). But Article 11 is an EU-wide version of local laws that were already attempted in Spain and Germany, and under those laws, links that included the headline in "anchor text" (that's the underlined, blue text that goes with a hyperlink) were banned. In the current amendments, Axel Voss has proposed that using more than two consecutive words from a headline would not be allowed without a license.

Niall says that memes and other forms of parody will not be blocked by Article 13's filters, because they are exempted from European copyright. That's doubly wrong.

First, there are no EU-wide copyright exemptions. Under the 2001 Copyright Directive, European countries get to choose zero or more exemptions from a list of permissible ones.

Second, even in countries where parody is legal, Article 13's copyright filters won't be able to detect it. No one has ever written a software tool that can tell parody from mere reproduction, and such a thing is so far away from our current AI tools as to be science fiction (as both a science fiction writer and a Visiting Professor of Computer Science at the UK's Open University, I feel confident in saying this).

Niall says that Wikipedia won't be affected by Article 13 and Article 11. This is so wrong, I published a long article about it. tl;dr: Wikipedia's articles rely on being able to link to analyses of the news, which Article 11 will limit; Wikipedia's projects like Wikimedia Commons are not exempted from Article 13; and commercial Wikipedia offshoots lose what little carveouts are present in Article 13.

Niall says Article 13 will not hurt small businesses, only make them pay their share. This is wrong. Article 13's copyright filters will cost hundreds of millions to build (existing versions of these filters, like Youtube's Content ID, cost $60,000,000 and only filter a tiny slice of the media Article 13 requires), which will simply destroy small competitors to the US-based multinationals.

What's more, these filters are notorious for underblocking (missing copyrighted works -- a frequent complaint made by the big entertainment companies...when they're not demanding more of these filters) and overblocking (blocking copyrighted works that have been uploaded by their own creators because they are similar to something claimed by a giant corporation).

Niall says Article 13 is good for creators' rights. This is wrong. Creators benefit when there is a competitive market for our works. When a few companies monopolise the channels of publication, payment, distribution and promotion, creators can't shop around for better deals, because those few companies will all converge on the same rotten policies that benefit them at our expense.

We've seen this already: once Youtube became the dominant force in online video, they launched a streaming music service and negotiated licenses from all the major labels. Then Youtube told the independent labels and indie musicians that they would have to agree to the terms set by the majors -- or be shut out of Youtube forever. In a market dominated by Youtube, they were forced to take the terms. Without competition, Youtube became just another kind of major label, with the same rotten deals for creators.

Niall says that Article 13 will stop abuses of copyright like when the fast-fashion brand Zara ripped off designers for its clothing. This is wrong (and a bit silly, really). What Zara did was illegal already, and since Zara's clothes are physical objects in shops (and not images on the web), web filters will have no effect on them.

Niall says that Article 13 isn't censorship. This is wrong. Copyright filters always overblock, catching dolphins in their tuna-nets. It's easy to demonstrate that these filters are grossly overblocking. When the government orders private actors to take measures that stop you from posting lawful communications, that's censorship.

Niall says that multinational companies will get a "huge victory" if Article 13 is stopped. That's wrong. While it's true that the Big Tech companies would prefer not to have any rules, they could very happily live with these rules, because they would effectively end any competition from new entrants into the field. Spending a few hundred million to comply with the Copyright Directive is a cheap alternative to having to buy out or crush any new companies that pose a threat.

I sympathise with Niall. As someone's who's volunteered as a regional director for other creators' rights groups, I understand that they're well-intentioned and trying to stand up for their members' interests.

But the Society of Authors and its allies have it wrong here. Articles 11 and 13 are catastrophes for both free expression and artists' livelihoods. They're a bargain in which Europe's big entertainment companies propose to sell Big Tech an Eternal Internet Domination license for a few hundred mil, cementing both Big Content and Big Tech's strangleholds on our ability to earn a living and reach an audience.

Don't take my word for it. David Kaye, the UN's Special Rapporteur on Human Rights, has condemned the proposals in the strongest possible terms.

And Wyclef Jean from the Fugees agrees, seeing Article 13 as a measure that will get between him and his audience by limiting his fans' ability to promote his work and pay his bills.

Meanwhile, Pascal Nègre (who recently stepped down after 20 years as President of Universal Music France) agrees, saying that the deal is "a net negative for artists, for the industry and, ultimately, for the public good."

Link taxes are a bad idea. In an era of fake news, anything that limits the ability of internet users to link to reliable news sources deals a terrible blow to our already weakened public discourse.

Copyright filters are an even worse idea. Not only will these both overblock and underblock, they'll also be ripe for abuse. Because the filters' proponents have rejected any penalties for fraudulently claiming copyright in works in order to censor them, anyone will be able to censor anything. You could claim all of Shakespeare's works on WordPress's filters, and no one would be able to quote Shakespeare until the human staff at the company had hand-deleted those entries -- and you could use bots to re-add those entries more quickly than they could be taken down.

More seriously, corrupt politicians and other public figures have already made a practice of using spurious copyright claims in order to censor unflattering news. Automating the process is a gift to any politician who wants to suppress video of an embarrassing campaign-event remark and any corrupt employer who wants to suppress video of an unsafe and abusive workplace incident.

Creators in the 21st Century struggle to earn a living -- just as we have in all the centuries since the invention of the printing press -- and we will forever be busy making things, and reliant on our professional organisations for guidance on which political currents run in our favour.

But there is a simple rule of thumb we can always follow that will keep us from being led astray: creators should always, always be on the side of free expression and always, always be opposed to censorship. We should always oppose anything that makes it easier to silence legitimate speech, anything that narrows who can control our public discourse by concentrating power into a few hands.

Creators, you have three days to talk to your lawmakers. Save Your Internet is the place to go to call, write and tweet them. This travesty is being undertaken in our name and we have a duty to stop it.

https://boingboing.net/2018/09/10/not-in-our-name.html

[rorykillmore]

okay so as a collective piece i don’t really know what this is but @fizzlep0p was interested in me writing villanelle’s perspective re: the few people in her life who’ve been important to her, and killing eve in general has been buzzing around in my head a lot, so this is a thing! it gets a bit unexpectedly sad towards the middle but i can’t really write killing eve with too much angst, so. just some little pieces of character / relationship study, i guess

the first is pre-canon and the other two are post-canon, as a note

There are now several important organizations who most definitely want Villanelle dead.  She’s pretty sure it should count as some kind of accomplishment.

The apartment they lease for her is beautiful -- not quite extravagant, but more spacious and airy and nice than anything else Oksana has ever been able to call her own.

Not warm and homey and personal like Anna’s flat was. But then, Oksana supposes, she wouldn’t want it to remind her of Anna. Or of anything from before. Even her own name feels bitter and stale in her thoughts, like it belongs to someone else. Someone who is now dead, both in the eyes of the Russian government and her own.

She walks leisurely from room to empty room, less browsing and more just marveling at all this space. It almost feels like more than she would ever know what to do with, after years spent in that tiny prison cell.

It’s so much to take in that she almost doesn’t see him, at first, which goes against all of her training. There is a man sitting on the still-stripped bed, and really, Oksana should’ve expected this, some kind of trick or test. She draws her gun in the same time it takes for her to turn fully towards him, cocks it tellingly, but doesn’t shoot. Yet.

“Hello,” says the man pleasantly, in Russian. He hardly seems fazed.

Oksana gauges him to be in his early fifties, perhaps late forties. Old enough to remind her of her father, which makes her hackles rise, but she says nothing. Does nothing, except keep the weapon trained on him. If he is someone important, and she shoots him, she imagines her generous new employers will hardly be pleased.

The man’s lips twitch.  “I forgot,” he continues - in English, this time. “They tell me you prefer English. No?”

“French. Actually,” Oksana says (though obligingly in English), mostly just to be difficult.

He chuckles in acknowledgement. “English will be more useful to you internationally. For now, we’ll stick to that.”

He hasn’t yet asked her to put down the gun, perhaps confident that he has nothing to worry about. It ruffles Oksana a bit, that and the fact that he is so different from any of the agents who have trained her so far. There are no harsh lines in his face, nothing cold or analytical in his eyes. He looks almost kind. It makes Oksana wary.

She lowers the gun of her own accord, suspecting that might have been what he wanted all along. “Who are you?”

“My name is Konstantin.” Of course, that could be an alias. Oksana is sure they do not trust her yet. “I am to be your handler from now on.”

Inwardly, she processes that information cautiously. Outwardly, she works an eyebrow at him. “Sounds a little bit naughty.”

“Yes. Well. You are the one insisting we converse in English,” Konstantin reminds her goodnaturedly, not reacting otherwise. That irks Oksana a bit too, but she doesn’t let him see it this time.

“So as my handler, what do you do? Are we going to train more?” she asks, sizing him up.

“A little. My job is more about overseeing you in yours.”

So he’s to be the one keeping an eye on her, Oksana acknowledges silently. She isn’t stupid enough to have thought they wouldn’t send someone.  “You should see the scar I left on the last man who trained me. It ruined his pretty face. He is very angry, I think, but someone more important than he was must have been pleased.”  She wouldn’t be here otherwise, after all.

Konstantin smiles as though this anecdote does not surprise him, probably because he’s heard about the incident from somewhere else. “Was that not the point of the exercise?”

She shrugs in response. “They gave me a knife and told me to defend myself. And he was a lot bigger than I was, so maybe he was just not good enough.”

“Yes. Maybe it’s him who needs more training.”

The quip catches Oksana a little off guard. She doesn’t return Konstantin’s smile, too busy analyzing the joke. She wonders if it was meant to lull her, make it sound like he’s on her side.

“Our training will not be about hurting one another,” Konstantin continues, ignoring her pause. “I think you already know how to do that well enough. So what I am going to teach you is more about… people.”

“People.” Oksana blinks.  

“There will be times when your job will not be quick. Times when it will take days, or weeks, of infiltration. We already know you are a good liar, but what we will ask of you will sometimes require more than that.”

“So you want me to know how to be good with people,” Oksana finishes for him. The idea is almost amusing.

Konstantin almost smirks. “You catch on quickly.”

To assert some control over the conversation, Oksana moves over to the bed and sits next to Konstantin, almost shoulder to shoulder, though she does not particularly enjoy the proximity. “What if I don’t want to?”

He turns slightly to face her.  “Then you will be very bad at your job.”

And Oksana can’t help but raise her eyebrows at that.  “Really? You’re not going to threaten me to do what you want? Be what you want?”

“I can already see you’re not a person who responds well to threats.” The glint in Konstantin’s eyes is almost warm. Disconcerting. “Besides, Oksana. I would like for you and I to be friends.”

So that’s his game, Oksana thinks. Konstantin thinks he can catch more flies with honey, or whatever the stupid English expression is. She sighs aloud, resting her chin in her hands.  “You are more boring than I thought you’d be.”

“Hm. You don’t like the idea?”

“Why don’t we skip to the interesting part?” she suggests, evading. “Our scandalous love affair? If you want me to seduce you first, I am very good at that.”

Konstantin’s smile doesn’t quite fade. He doesn’t even have the decency to pretend to be shocked, or scandalized.  “You’re a little young for me, I’m afraid.”

Oksana quirks an eyebrow disbelievingly. That’s a line older men are supposed to use at first, she figures, except she can’t imagine why someone like Konstantin would bother.  “Would you get in trouble?”

“Maybe. Maybe not, if I said I was keeping you in line.”  Konstantin shrugs. “That isn’t the point. I said I would like for us to be friends.”

She stares at him rather blankly for a moment.  If he was trying to control her, it’s just as he said -- it would be easier her way. Why put in all this extra effort?

He’ll get bored of it soon enough anyway, she’s certain. Maybe they’ll send someone else. She wonders how many handlers she can go through while she’s here, thinks it might be fun to find out.

But for now… she must settle for what she has.

She shifts beside him, fidgeting a little.  “I want a new name,” she says eventually, because it’s as good a subject change as any.

Konstantin grunts in agreement. “You’ll need a new name, seeing as you’re now legally deceased.”

“Are you going to give me one?” That’s probably how these things work. They pick codenames for their assets, or whatever. Oksana watches Konstantin a little skeptically and thinks that maybe this could be some kind of bullshit psychological indicator of how he sees her, if she wanted it to be.

But Konstantin only shakes his head, smiling faintly still. “I think,” he tells her. “You are the one who ought to choose.”

There are now several important organizations who most definitely want Villanelle dead.  She’s pretty sure it should count as some kind of accomplishment.

She’s less immediately concerned about MI6 - those idiots took years to find her, and that was only with Eve’s help - and a little more concerned with the Twelve. They know her patterns, and many of her tricks, but what they do not know is that she is alive. They’ll find all the blood in her apartment, the knife, and they’ll have to wonder. At least for a little while.

It gives her a little time to recover. When she does, she can go looking for them.

The thing is, Villanelle is not very good at recovery.

She finds an off-duty surgeon to stitch her up and can’t risk reopening her injury to kill him afterwards, so she supposes she’ll have to pray he doesn’t run his mouth. Not that it matters, in the very brief time it takes her to disappear afterwards. But holeing herself up in one shitty hotel room after another gives her much too much time to think.

And she doesn’t want to think. Not about Eve, for once, not right now. And not about Konstantin, who may or may not have survived the shot she’d fired at him (she hadn’t been aiming to kill, not quite, but there are too many variables in play for her to know whether that really matters).

As a bleak alternative, then, she thinks for a little while about Anna.

Anna.

Villanelle had missed her for a very long time. Now she knows it would have been better if they’d never seen each other again.

She can’t work out which of the things she’d said to Anna were lies, and which were the truth. That happens sometimes. Villanelle spins things to get under people’s skin, and sometimes ends up losing track of it all herself. She knows that when Anna had been pointing a gun at her, it had felt good to tell her that she no longer loved her. Like Anna would actually care. She knows that when she had her own gun in her hand, and had told Anna that she could shoot her, it had felt like the truth in the moment.

But she’d never pulled the trigger. So now she would never know.

Villanelle begrudgingly supposes that maybe Anna deserved to deprive her of that.

But it isn’t fair that she can’t get the images out of her head; Anna’s gun pressed against her own throat, Anna crumpling as the shot rang out, all that blood soaking into the floor. Villanelle has long since stopped being fazed by violence, of course, so she doesn’t know why this stays with her. As if Anna hasn’t haunted her for long enough.

Villanelle knows she didn’t pull the trigger, but she also knows it’s still her fault. What she doesn’t know is how she feels about that. Things she doesn’t know how to name bubble in her chest unpleasantly, but really, it’s difficult to distinguish that from the continuous ache of the knife wound in her side. Maybe it’s all the same in the end.

There’s a pen and a notepad on the bedside table of the hotel room. Villanelle contemplates them for a few moments. Wonders if she could still write pretty, flowing French words in pretty, flowing letters, and pretend that one day Anna would still read them.

She almost tries it. Pretending would make all of this much simpler.  But in the end, she doesn’t know what she would say, and the truth is, Villanelle doesn’t really want to think about this either.

It’s been two months since Eve stuck her with a knife. Villanelle thinks that seems fair. Fitting payback, to just let Eve wonder whether she’s alive or dead for two whole months.

She suspects it’s kept Eve up at night, which is both amusing and intriguing. Villanelle hadn’t thought Eve would stab her, and then when Eve had, Villanelle hadn’t thought she’d feel bad about it afterwards. But Eve, Villanelle thinks, might never stop surprising her. She can’t imagine a world in which she’d ever find Eve boring. Maybe occasionally predictable, but only long enough to lull Villanelle into thinking she knows what Eve is about to do, until she doesn’t.

Villanelle’s missed her, really.

When she does decide to pay Eve a little reunion visit, it’s almost disconcertingly easy to track her down. She is no longer living with her husband (something which Villanelle is not particularly lamenting), but alone in a flat on the other side of London. If Villanelle had wanted to flatter herself, she might have speculated that Eve wants her to find her. Which is a nice thought, and all, except that Villanelle isn’t the only person Eve needed to be concerned about.

So when Eve comes home one night, shoulders half-slumped with a kind of recognizable exhaustion, Villanelle is leisurely sprawled across her couch, and the first conversational thing she says is, “If I were one of the Twelve, you’d be dead. Just like that.”

Eve drops her bag and screams, and Villanelle rolls her eyes, because really, aren’t they past this by now?

“Not upping your chances,” she adds, not bothering to sit up.

“You --”  Eve sputters after a shell-shocked moment. Villanelle expects her to continue, Eve can’t seem to find the words.

“Did you forget my name already?”  Villanelle feigns a hurt expression. “A girl would think you’d already moved on to some other immensely talented, incredibly attractive international assassin.”

“You --”  Eve tries again “ -- fucking asshole!”

Villanelle has to try not to laugh.  “Close enough.”

“I thought you were dead.”

Did she? Really? Villanelle isn’t sure whether she ought to be insulted or not. She smirks a little, all the same. “You sound very upset about it. Did you miss me that much?”

Eve does not look impressed, however. Eve still looks somewhere between shocked and angry and -- something else Villanelle can’t identify.  “Where the hell have you been all this time?”

“Recovering.” Villanelle shrugs slightly. “It takes a while, when you’ve been stabbed in all your… vital organs. Your fault, if you didn’t remember.” Does Eve really have any room to blame her for not telling her where she was?

Disregarding the bag she dropped on the floor, Eve keeps her eyes fixed on Villanelle, almost disbelievingly. Ignoring the strange, apprehensive pull in her chest, Villanelle feigns laziness as she watches Eve move tentatively a little closer. “I didn’t -- um --”

Villanelle smiles at her slightly.  “You meant to.”

There’s a stiff pause.

“Well. I’m still sorry. I guess I didn’t really realize that I -- that you -- I’m just sorry.”

If Villanelle’s being honest with herself, she didn’t really expect an apology.  It’s blunt and almost strangled, and Villanelle thinks she should probably respond by telling Eve any of the things she’s been feeling about it since the last time they saw each other. But it’s one of those complicated things. Hard to put into words. Some strange mixture of betrayal and hurt and intrigue and an almost tender kind of pride.

“I have this really crazy scar now,” Villanelle tells her instead of any of those things. “I kind of like it. Want to see?”

Eve pales a little, but still manages to roll her eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

“Like you don’t want me to take my shirt off.”

Eve snorts, and for a moment some of the tension between them seems to dissipate. But only for a moment.  “Are you… here because you want revenge?” It sounds oddly dramatic spoken aloud, and Eve scrunches her nose awkwardly. “Or something?”

Villanelle’s thought about it, of course. Long enough to know what the answer is.  “No. I don’t think stabbing you would make me feel any better.”

“Well that’s. Uh. Good.”

Villanelle gives her a twitch of a smile, and, surprising her slightly yet again, Eve returns it carefully. Villanelle does sit up a little then, instinctively drawing her legs up to her chest, and Eve gingerly sits down on the other side of the couch.

“So.”

“So.”

“What are you here for?”

Villanelle is a little taken aback that Eve doesn’t know the answer to that question -- until she realizes she’s not really sure she knows it herself. She shrugs lightly again. “It’s been a while.”

“Yes,” Eve agrees slowly, searching Villanelle’s face for -- something. Villanelle isn’t sure what. “I --” But again, she cuts off, and Villanelle’s smile turns a little more lofty.

“I’ve left you quite speechless, haven’t I?”

“Well, I… have to say, I. Wasn’t expecting you to just. I mean. I thought you were dead.”

“You’ve said. With that exact inflection.”

Eve nudges her leg with her foot, a gesture that feels oddly casual and familiar, given that Villanelle can count the number of times they’ve been alone together on one hand.  “Can you take this seriously for a second? Isn’t it dangerous for you to be here?”

“Sure,” Villanelle replies automatically -- and then backtracks at a sudden realization. “-- I mean. I made sure I wasn’t followed, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re not in any more danger than you were just -- hanging out in some minimum security apartment in London.”

Eve looks less sheepish than she would have expected. Of course, this is the woman who’d set her iPhone password to ‘1-2-3-4’.  “I’m tired of running. I figured if the Twelve really wanted me, then just -- fuck it.”

“That’s smart,” Villanelle notes sarcastically.

“Well, I don’t have a job, or a husband, or a… purpose anymore. I thought you were --”

“Dead,” Villanelle finishes for her, a little softer. She considers for a moment, because maybe she wants Eve to be a lot of things, but not unhappy. Not -- haphazardly disinterested in her own survival, though she suspects a part of that is just Eve playing it up. “Well, now you know that I’m not. So you will have to tough it out a little while longer, I guess.”

“I guess,” Eve agrees, a little more wry, still watching her closely.  “...What are you going to do now?”

“Like, now now?” Villanelle pretends to think.  “What is this, like, our third date? So --”  

“Oh, come on, you know what I mean,” Eve cuts in, though Villanelle takes a small amount of satisfaction in seeing that she’s flushed a little.

“Right. That.”  Villanelle raises her eyebrows, vaguely mysterious.  “I suppose it’s still your job to find out.”

“Not really,” Eve reminds her. “I was fired.”

Villanelle isn’t fooled for a moment.  “And so you are just… giving up?”

Eve meets her gaze for a heartbeat -- and then sort of laughs. “Not on your life.”

She looks less tired than she did when she came in, sounds more alive. There’s a certain spark in her eyes, and Villanelle finds she’s missed that, too.  “Good,” she retorts almost affectionately, and then abruptly rises from the couch.  “Then consider this your pep talk, or whatever.”

“Wait --” Eve straightens a little, seeming taken aback.  “-- That’s it? You’re leaving?

Villanelle pauses.  “Why? Did you want to pick up where we left off, before… ?” Much as she enjoys the teasing - and in all honesty, much as she’d like to stay with Eve, with the force of something in her that twinges a little more strongly than she anticipated - it really isn’t safe for her to spend a whole night in Eve’s flat. She’s not sure she trusts Eve that much, not quite yet, and even if she did… well. That’s far from the only obstacle to account for.

But Eve is hesitating, like she’s actually considering it, and Villanelle almost feels sort of bad -- a rare and unpleasant experience. She leans down close, ignoring the way Eve instinctively tenses in response, and presses a brief kiss to her cheek.  “We will see each other again.”

Without waiting for Eve to respond - and Eve doesn’t, sitting stock still and not saying a word - Villanelle turns and saunters towards the door.  As an afterthought, she throws over her shoulder, “Unless you’ve gotten very rusty.”

“Fuck off,” Eve finally manages in response, half disgruntled and half goodnatured, and Villanelle laughs before she’s out the door.

It’d be a bad idea to stay this time, anyway. Eve might think she’s getting soft on her.

[flavourlessfiction]

Ice Melts When Heated ~ Chapter 3

Relationships: Jason Todd/Tim Drake

Rating: Mature

Tags: Alternate Universe - Skating, figure skating, Rivals, Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies is a slight overstatement tho, Banter, Time Skips, Rating May Change

Ao3: x

Three sharp raps on his hotel room door. It couldn’t be the national representative who was effectively his handler for the comp. She’d left just ten minutes ago and they’d already selected him for the gala. God knows why. It wasn’t often that someone who finished in tenth got the opportunity to skate in the gala, especially when it wasn’t in their home country.

The knocking started again, Tim pushing himself up and slowly trudging towards the door. He was fortunate to end up with his own hotel room, although could one really be fortunate when they’d choked? Or when their coach picked a minor competition over the last major event before Worlds? “What can I-” He started to say, stopping dead in his tracks when he was met face to face with Jason. No, he did not need to spar with Jason right now, he’d had a bad enough day without listening to the winner gloat. “- fuck off.”

“Hey, wait!” Jason’s foot got caught in the door frame, preventing him from shutting the door in his face. He couldn’t just slam it on the foot either, it would look like he was attempting to take out his competition. “I know you don’t want anything to do with me right now but you can’t be alone after something like that.”

“Go away, Jason.”

“Come out with me, we’ll have some drinks and you can think about anything other than that skate.”

Of course, his idea of a good time was going out and getting drunk. Forgetting about the skate and Bruce was certainly a good idea but that didn’t mean it was the right thing to do, they had practice for the gala tomorrow, as well as the actual performance and showing up with a hangover wasn’t going to make him look any better in the eyes of the skating federation. “I’m eighteen.”

“The legal drinking age in China. Tim, we don’t have to go out or drink. I just don’t want you to be left feeling how I felt just because Bruce can’t see what his skaters need.” There was the first dig at Bruce, it was to be expected and if he wasn’t pissed off with Bruce he might have defended him. Bruce had allowed all of this to happen, however, and he wasn’t going to pretend like he could just move past it. Not tonight at least.

Lowering his eyes Tim opened the door wider, flinching as Jason gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. If it was anyone he liked it would have felt comforting but with the other it just felt so wrong. “You were injured, you didn’t just fall apart.”

“That’s true, but I shouldn’t have been allowed to skate. Just as you shouldn’t have been sent here without anyone. I’m not going to talk about that, get changed and we’ll go do something. You need a distraction.” That was probably fair, he’d already watched the skate twice in the time he’d been alone, not bothering to watch the scores or his reaction in the kiss and cry. He hadn’t exactly stopped feeling that way and it wasn’t about to change rewatching it for a third time. “Tim please, if they think you’re going to spiral they’ll force you to give up your spot at worlds. The best thing to do right now is at least look like you’re socialising and not panicking.”

“Okay,” He said, kneeling down in front of his suitcase. There definitely wasn’t going to be anything inside for going out to bars and clubs, aside from the suit he’d brought with him the nicest things he had were jeans and plain t shirts. They could work but it still didn’t leave him with many options. “Did it look as bad as it felt?”

“You hitting the boards multiple times or the breakdown,” it didn’t seem like Jason needed a response, the soft sigh that followed told him enough. “You just looked like you were in a lot of pain and this was the last straw. People might think you’re actually human now at least.” Quiet and awkward never translated to being robotic in Tim’s mind, but it was a joke that came out of multiple people’s mouths despite knowing him, despite the fact that he looked like anything but a robot on the ice.

It wasn’t important, his public image would never be the person he was even if he tried to remould it now. Everyone would still see him as a kid. “I’m surprised Talia isn’t up your ass for even trying to go out when you’re basically the main event tomorrow.” Thrown away, meaningless chatter, he just didn’t want it to be constant jabs at him or it to be talk about skating.

He didn’t need Jason to laugh about it though, and whilst his laughter was charming it wasn’t a welcome sound to his ears. “I disagree, I saw the music you’re using on the running sheet for practice tomorrow, are we seeing a return of girl Tim?”

“Uh, no. I’m doing a different version of the song.” There was a shirt that didn’t look like something he’d sleep in, keeping his back to Jason he shed his jacket and training shirt, hurriedly pulling the black ¾ sleeve shirt over his head. “And I know people will probably claim I’m going too many different exhibition skates in one season, but Dick did a new one every comp the year he won Olympic gold, so what does it matter?”

He wasn’t defensive, sure he knew plenty of people would say that if he had trained for the comp better; he wouldn’t have lost the way he did. Except it had nothing to do with that this time, it wasn’t new choreography, it was just a different version of the same song. “I think people will just be happy to see you skate, some people thought you really hurt yourself, in all honesty, you’ve got people in your corner.”

“I’m talking to you so that’s not accurate. Before you ask, Dick isn’t here because he couldn’t get a visa in time, which translation means he wasn’t given enough warning because everything’s so fucking disorganised lately.”

“Could he have gone to-”

“Yes.” He looked over his shoulder to see a tight-lipped Jason nodding, eyes averted picking up that Tim was just going to change in the middle of the room. Well at least he wasn’t going to have to awkwardly shuffle into the bathroom despite the fact that it was his hotel room. “I guess it’s appropriate that I hang around you, you’re kind of the master at being pissed off with Bruce Wayne.” It takes less than a minute and he’s sliding on a pair of shoes, looking like he was prepared to go out this whole time.

“Well if he tells you how mad he is about what happened, just tell him to eat a bag of dicks, this was his fault not yours.” He didn’t have to be friends or friendly with Jason, but he was right, he needed to be around someone, both for perceptions sake but so that he didn’t drive himself crazy. If that meant going to an obnoxious bar with music so loud that he couldn’t think, well then that was a positive thing. They didn’t need anything to say to each other, exiting the hotel, Jason looking at his phone briefly before setting off in the direction of wherever he planned on going, Shanghai had a nightlife scene of sorts, he was aware of that but he doubted there were clubs that were like American ones.  “Would you rather go to a club or a bar?” He’d rather go to neither but he’d agreed to come out and he wasn’t about to be a sulking mess the entire night, he already knew he didn’t look great, just by how his eyes felt from all the crying.

“I don’t mind, I can’t speak mandarin very well though, so unless you’re skilled in it we might want to go to a must see place for American tourists.”

“I thought you spoke fine in Hong Kong… Wait that’s Cantonese, okay I can understand. Don’t worry I’ve already got a place in mind but it’s more of a club.” He didn’t feel game enough to ask just what kind of a club and in truth he wouldn’t know where or what it was.

Just follow and look around at the sights nearby. Well it wasn’t quite following as Jason had fallen into step with him. He was still certainly the one guiding although even Jason was glancing at his phone every so often, obviously using a maps app to direct him. At least they weren’t going to get completely and utterly lost. Finding their way back might be a challenge depending on how drunk Jason got. He knew the hotel name so he could get directions back there if the other was completely useless. “Arkham?” Jason only laughed, how he found a place that held the same name as the prison in their home city was amusing but he was sure the choice in venue was based upon the proximity to the hotel. They’d walked for no more than ten minutes to get there.

Thankfully they didn’t have to wait long to get in and even less to get a drink. He didn’t question what it was, it looked well enough like a bottle of beer and he wasn’t all that focused on enjoying it. It was loud enough in here with EDM that if he stayed sober he’d end up with a worse headache than what a hangover could possibly give him. “Drink and have fun.” A hand sat at his side, Tim recognising the touch as less for the purpose of being comforting but to prevent him from stepping away due to the breath against his ear as Jason spoke to him, it being the only way they wouldn’t be completely drowned out by the music.

It wasn’t music he’d ever skate to, he’d once joked about skating to a Portuguese pop song but one look from Bruce told him that wouldn’t happen in a million years. In truth he knew Bruce was irritated enough by his exhibition programs but didn’t deny him them because they were just supposed to be for entertainment’s sake. Pop music had been a quick line in the sand however, although it could be because Dick had a few too many obnoxious pop skates of his own and Bruce wasn’t willing to indulge any of his skaters after Dick.

The first drink was finished quickly, and whilst it took ten minutes or so to hit, he could definitely feel it. That wasn’t to say he was already a stumbling drunk, merely that there was a warmth synonymous with mild intoxication that was undeniable. That hand was still touching him, although he’d made no effort to squirm out of the touch either. He was a foreigner here and whilst he wasn’t thrilled to be here with Jason he didn’t want to end up alone and stuck. “I’d love to know the truth to a rumour about you.” Tim shifted slightly as he placed the bottle on the table in front of him, motioning for Jason to continue. “I always thought you were gay but someone said you and Tamara Fox hooked up on the road at Stars back in July, which one is true?”

Now that was a complicated question. There were always rumours but that was one he hadn’t thought would get out. Either of them. “Sexuality is complicated, yes we did.”

“Would you date her?”

“No, I’m not interested in dating women.”

“So… you hooked up with her to see what it was like and to know if you are gay?”

“It’s complicated.” It felt like a pitiful excuse but he wasn’t going to explain it now, everyone always just assumed it was an experimental excuse that he was covering up his sexuality when in truth Tim wasn’t attracted to women for the purposes of relationships. “I’m getting another drink.”

His feet hurt, someone had definitely stepped on them or dropped something on them multiple times when he was on the dance floor. At least Jason hadn’t entirely left his side to allow him to do something stupid, but he’d given him some amount of space. Although he had grabbed him around three in the morning, he’d had what, five drinks in the few hours that they’d been there?

He wouldn’t say he was plastered by any means but he was a lot closer to that than being sober. It was probably why it took so long to get back to the hotel.

No! They were slower because his feet hurt! He couldn’t wait to lay down, Jason had an arm around him again, keeping him from stumbling and getting hurt. He was definitely doing a much better job at not looking like a complete and utter mess. Maybe he hadn’t drunk quite as much as he had. Although Tim could have sworn that Jason was at least one drink ahead of him. It wasn’t fair!

Although what had been fair about the past week or so? No, he didn’t want to think about it, if he did he’d just get mad or sad and he’d certainly cried enough in the kiss and cry earlier. “Why are you helping me?” He grumbled as he was ushered into an elevator, it was lucky there weren’t any officials hanging around in the lobby, there needed to be as little evidence about their inebriation as possible and that would be given up all too quickly if they were forced to talk to anyone important.

Jason seemed to ignore him at first, opening his mouth to ask again before he was smothered with and embrace, being backed into the corner of the tight space, the chatter of the people that had joined them explained a lot. There was nothing more uncomfortable than getting called out right now. “I understand.” It was soft, even for someone that should be drunk, Jason never exactly came across as the guy with good volume control but perhaps it was more based upon the fact that he tended to not care.

Ordinarily he would have shoved Jason away, told him not to touch him but it was comfortable, he might have been stuck in a corner but for someone he’d been rather scared of following what happened at the Grand Prix Final a few years back, Jason was the safest person in Shanghai. A thought that he’d probably be sickened by in the morning. The elevator door opened and their company left, Jason letting out a small hiss. “Fuck, your hands are cold.” His hands? Tim hadn’t been aware that he’d reciprocated the hug, a fact made more startling as he realised his hands were under Jason’s shirt, seeking out the warmth of skin on skin.

He wouldn’t have thought it to be a pleasant feeling, although Tim didn’t think too hard about these kinds of touches, they just weren’t important compared to how a doctor might touch a sore spot of the feeling of skin rubbing off in a new pair of skates. “Yeah… ‘m sorry.” The words weren’t quite slurred but they didn’t come out easily either. He didn’t bother taking his hands away though. Tim finding himself resting his head against Jason’s chest, it was only a few more storeys up but to be able to rest for even just a few seconds just felt right. He was by no means about to pass out and embarrass himself.

He was released the second the elevator stopped moving, Jason giving him a moment to straighten himself before stepping back. Tim didn’t think he swayed at all but the pitied look Jason gave him told him otherwise. He definitely needed some assistance, stumbling over the slight lip in the carpeting from the open elevator door. Irresponsible design plan rather than his own struggles in walking, but there was an arm around him once more, guiding him towards his hotel room door.

Their night was certainly coming to a decided end, not by his own choice but given they had to be awake for the practice in just a few hours’ time, awake and sober, he could accept his fate and sleep likely would come quickly. “Do you have your key on you?” Tim felt around his pockets, pulling out his wallet and handing it over to the other, it wasn’t like he couldn’t have gotten the card out but he could also acknowledge the fact that if he did there was a decent chance that if he did the rest of his cards would spill out.

They were inside quickly, Jason standing awkwardly at the door whilst Tim made his way over to the bed. Laying on his back as he tried to kick his shoes off. “Jay… Don’t leave.” It was almost breathless as though kicking the shoes off was a real struggle for him, as though he wasn’t a professional athlete.

“I need to go to sleep and you don’t seem like you’re great at sharing a bed.” That got him to sit up, his lips pressed in a thin line. He could stand up and drag Jason over but then again, he would likely fall over within two steps. He wasn’t going to be able to conquer getting changed into more suitable clothing either.

“You won’t know until you try.” Defiant, almost childish as though he was trying to prove a point. “Sends a fuck you message to others… to Bruce.”

“I also don’t feel like having hungover Tim killing me for drunk Tim’s poor decision making.” He wobbled as he rose, Jason taking two long strides to grab a hold of him, set him back down on the bed.

Jason mustn’t have expected what came next, Tim’s hand gripping at Jason’s wrist and pulling him down onto the bed, he didn’t make a noise but an outsider would be able to see that he was startled by the movement. “I’m not some mindless drone who can’t stick up for himself and doesn’t know what he’s doing.” He whispered, hovering over Jason. He couldn’t read his expression, in all honesty he didn’t want to.

It wasn’t about Jason, it was about him. About what he wanted, to do or otherwise. Their lips didn’t crash together, at first it was all Tim, kissing him forcefully and desperately, it not being returned until a begging, ‘please,’ slipped past his lips. What did he want? The back of his mind told him this was more than enough, a thought that was quickly shoved to the side by the greedy voice that wanted to take as much as he could.

Kiss, touch, breathe each other’s air. It was something he needed, a touch that was unfamiliar but felt so safe, unlike others there wasn’t this residual fear that he’d intentionally hurt him. In the past or the future perhaps there would be but not tonight.

Was this the actual reason why Jason wouldn’t let go of him for most the night? Not because he’d wanted to avoid one or both of them getting lost but out of interest in him? It didn’t matter. It was happening unless one of them stopped it and Tim had no interest in letting it stop. Jason might have tasted like whatever crappy beers they’d been drinking, mixed in with a sweetness that Tim had no idea where it came from. Truthfully Jason could have started drinking cocktails at some point and he wouldn’t have noticed, he’d stopped paying proper attention to him the moment he moved over to the dance floor.

Kisses moved from Jason’s lips to along his jawline and neck, pushing up his shirt at the same time. It didn’t last long. A frustrated groan escaped him as a firm hand to his chest pushed him away. He got it, keep it light, only for Jason to jerk his head away when he tried to kiss him again. “Tim, no.” He let his hand rest on the bed, not understanding why he was turning him down, perhaps his previous review of the night had been completely wrong.

“I’m not a kid.”

“I know how you’re feeling, you’re pissed off with Bruce and you think this will get back at him. I’m the gold medallist at being pissed off with Bruce but I’m not going to let you do this.”

“It’s not just about Bruce.” He wanted nothing more than to show Jason exactly what he meant but he wasn’t about to endure the humiliation of being rejected again. God, he shouldn’t have tried anything. Jason was right hungover Tim was going to be mad about drunk Tim’s decision making. “I’m going to go…”

He could hear Jason suck in a breath between his teeth as he stood, Tim glancing down expectantly for whatever opinion he had. “It’s your room.”

Oh, right. Better sit back down then.

“I’ll leave, get some rest and we’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” That probably wasn’t true, Tim already wanted to start avoiding Jason, well just earlier tonight he wanted to avoid everyone but had let Jason in after a few convincing words. “Tim?” He really didn’t want to respond.

He should though. “Yeah, I’ll sleep.”

“That’s not what I’m- okay, just make sure you set an alarm.” There was a wave and then he was gone. Alone again, it wasn’t as bad as earlier though, he was thoroughly exhausted now but he still had the sense to check that his alarms were set. Other things were not taken care of however, leaving the lights on and still dressed he allowed himself to crash.

Drinking had been a mistake, not because of the headache. That hadn’t been half as bad as he’d expected it to be. No the mistake came from the fact that he remembered every detail from the night before, it was humiliating at best and now he had to not recoil under Jason’s gaze, he couldn’t shy away without people realising Tim had tried to get with him only to be rejected because it had been interpreted as revenge.

It hadn’t been. He knew that much. He’d wanted comfort and his intoxicated mind told him that Jason was the person capable of giving him said comfort. That sex was the best form of comfort. At least he hadn’t forced conversation on him, but that was because the practice had been busy, there was still time to be backed into a corner, whilst they waited to skate or at the banquet later tonight. He should have just changed his flight and gone home a night early.

That wasn’t going to be any easier though.

Going back home meant showing up to the rink and that wasn’t something he wanted to face for quite some time. If ever.

At least the jumps didn’t feel as off today. He didn’t exactly have anything to prove to anyone and if he popped them well at least he landed them. That wasn’t entirely true, he now had to prove he didn’t have some sort of injury and that the mistake riddled free program was nothing more than a fluke. That they hadn’t put too many eggs in the basket of a younger skater when they could have taken up someone who had been solid for years even if those solid scores didn’t always guarantee a podium finish.

“Tim are you running through the skate or are you just winging it?” Laughter came from the several skaters that were on the ice, it wasn’t comment he would wing it but the last time he’d used the song he had claimed to be doing so. A thumb up was all that was needed for them to put CD in, the piano was in a different key compared to last time, the piano rather than the odd synth mix coming through that anyone that was a fan in the stands watching the practice would likely be recording it to put it online. There were no secrets when it came to music and that was why the first time they’d gotten away with it had been such a coup.

In truth it probably looked like he was winging it right now, marking certain patterns, making sure he didn’t risk having any clashes. He might have right of way but focus still lapsed and there were more people on the ice than normal. The only things he did full out were the spins and the axel with the falling leaf  flourish he’d put in there, purely to see if he could hit it. It didn’t feel quite right but he wasn’t going to let it weigh on him.

This was a Gala, it didn’t mean anything. It might be an emotional song but he was still entitled to have fun with it. He just couldn’t screw it up.

Iris Allen West    @WestFigures                                                1 minute ago

And I thought his original version of this skate made me feel things.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯            @PranceOn                                                            1 minute ago

BRUCE WAYNE’S PHONE ABOUT TO BLOW UP WITH THE MESSAGE THAT JUST GOT SENT!

Wally West        @WestSpeeds                                                       2 minutes ago

I was promised trash club beats! @Tricky-Dicky you lied to me!

Dick Grayson    @Tricky-Dicky                                                       30 seconds ago

Lies and slander!

Mel -> Shanghai @MelMonster                                                       2 minutes ago

JFC can he just do this skate forever. So many phone flashlights on.

Joker                     @MistahJSays.                                                      2 minutes ago

No one could possibly be entertained or enthused about watching Tim Drake skate.

Dick Grayson    @Tricky-Dicky                                                   3 minutes ago

God I wish I could be there to watch that live. Come home so I can force you to skate it 50 times over #TimTrash

Tim Drake Trash                @TinyTimTeam333                         3 minutes ago

ASDFGHJKL DICK IS TIM TRASH NUMBER 1

Skater Zoned                      @SkaterZoned                                    2 minutes ago

Your beautiful choreography always helps!

Tim’s Coffee      @JennyWeeps                                                  4 minutes ago

How many times are you going to make me cry this week Timothy?!??!

[myfriendpokey]

receipt king

What's the difference between a paid game and a free one? In my opinion, one of them costs money, although various qualifications could be made. But maybe what's important is not the fact of purchase but the moment of purchase - that singular, legally recognised and binding moment where you hit the buy button or put the coin into the slot. Since after all the ways in which you really engage with, or even claim, a videogame can be spread out, blurry, diffuse.

Maybe it sits on your hard drive for a year before you play it, or in a notepad file full of steam keys, maybe you played it on and off in sessions too split up and individually indistinguished to solidify into a single instance. You can "own" both a paid gameand a free one but it's hard to feel your relationship to the former is not somehow more solid - maybe because it's founded on that moment of exchange, and not just the more transitory moments of lived experience. Experience comes and goes but purchases can be logged, tracked, indexed.

Maybe all the people who keep buying  reissues of Chrono Trigger for every platform it comes out on are just laying a more 'real', economic foundation to support the expanded dream-Chrono Trigger that exists in their heads…  Holding on to the receipts!

 ***

For a videogame to be sold is for it to exist in a network of exchange relations with, say, chairs, fruit, labour... And the implication is that these things can be compared but also that the comparisons can be quantified. A game is cheaper than a cup of coffee - or four times more expensive than a new movie, and both of these give us a picture of how it fits into the spaces of our life.

It also lets them take on a sort of objecthood-by-proxy, as another in the catalogue of commodities, which is increasingly important as the actual ontological status of a videogame gets ever more uncertain. Are you buying a program, an installer for a program, a temporary access pass for a program stored online, a program which runs using a server which remains in the company's control, a set of new assets, are you unlocking a set of existing assets which shipped with the game and were just stuck behind a paywall?

Emilie Reed has written about videogames in a museum context - with the expectation there that they get reframed as "singular objects", to fit the needs of an institution which has historically trafficked in singular objects. Maybe we can also think about this movement for objecthood in the context of the market - and that, since for at least forty years videogames have been a market artform, this movement was reflected on the aesthetic level as well. When people talk about a videogame as a "world", as a closed, alien space of object relations to be examined and explored at will, are they talking about the bare digital structures of the Game or about the mysterious opacity of the Object? Perhaps the unknowable heart of the  commodity is the true "bonus room", ha ha ha 8p

 ***

(I remember when Mountain was something of a critical talking point, and at the time I maybe crassly wondered if it was the production values - since there were plenty of glorious trainwrecks games making basically the same nonsequitor joke but it somehow only merited attention coming from a paid game with stylised graphics and lotsa assets… Now I wonder if it was specifically the saleability of Mountain which generated that fascinated reaction, as the dismissal of not-games wrestled with the deference thought due to the commodity. Which makes all those posts about the zen qualities of staring at it seem much funnier in retrospect.)

***

Anyway.

The free game / paid game thing is something that interests me because it's basically something I grind up against all the time, when I'm making things, and slowly need to come up with the vocabulary to deal with. The dream is always to "just make things" - you'd work on what takes your fancy and then figure out at the end whether it worked as a saleable product or not, which environment to release it to. But the problem is that even speculating something could be a paid game is enough to drastically change how you view it. What works in a free game absolutely does not in a commercial game, and vice versa.

I don't think anybody at all would have played Magic Wand if it came out for free, for example - that game could get away with being tonally muted and laid back because it took place within the bubble of objecthood that comes with being sold, and those qualities are experienced much differently in a free game.

A free game is one with no immediate comparison points - it could end after 5 minutes, after 50, it could demand your time and energy to no return... it lacks the "guarantee" of a pricetag, the guarantee of existing in some stable relationship with other objects. A commercial game could be the barest early-access WIP, or just some printed screenshots in an envelope. But the fact that it was sold at all grants it some of the enclosed legibility of the object, while free games conversely exist in the world of pure experience, which I think Hegel memorably described as a bloody head flying at you through the dark. Dreams, hallucinations, memory, etc.

 ***

So maybe we can think of commercial status as part of what Michael Brough calls the "grain" of a work, part of that network of processes and feedback which we either glide with or grind against while producing a thing. To make a free game paid is to change how it's read. The gaps which your attention span could easily skip over in a free title become unbearable contained within a fixed, sealed object. You begin to draw the contours and to fill in the gaps... The game becomes more ornate, detailed, denser within this narrowed scope, with a kind of symbolist langour and inertia seeping into the whole thing - the inertia of the product.

It may be hard to make a videogame into a narrative but to be sure it's harder to turn a product into one, a product which necessarily has something circular and static within the very foundation. The presumed audience for a product is like the little dude in the middle of the panopticon - everything is arranged panoramically for their benefit, necessitating a certain vagueness of temporal relationship, while a free game is arranged for the less predictable, less reliable, eye of the attention span as it moves through an unknown space. I like making both types of games and don't mean to imply one is either more mature or more subversive than the other, whatever those terms mean in this junk-ass consumer format. But it's not quite a matter of pure preference, either.

***

Archiving games can be notoriously difficult and I imagine this goes double for free ones - it's one thing to document, say, the NES library which at least has some kind of fixed scope for inclusion, trade magazines to consult, physical copies to track down... and even then there's always the frontier of, yknow, bootleg Dendy cartridges, nobody knowing when Mario came out, stuff like that. At least in principle it can be boiled down to a finite list of titles and release years. Who wants to deal with the messier and more nebulous task of recovering all the RPG Maker projects that briefly got hosted on Rapidshare in 2007? And even then, would it make sense to organize these games by a similar neat list of release dates?

Commercial games can afford the pretense that they "happened" at a singular point in time and that this singular point takes priority over the broader mulch timeline in which they were stumbled across, played, looked at, made fun of. It's not that you can't make a similar claim for the release point for freeware - it's just that it might mean a different thing, and I think it can be valuable trying to think of those games as something other than "commercial games that happen to cost $0". If to be released for free is to  engage with a fundamentally different context and set of assumptions - to deal with and work around a kind of vanishing experiential quality, rather than the fixed objecthood of the product - then it's hard to work out how to talk about and memorialise that without converting it into its opposite.

I've always wanted to write about more freeware games but how do you do it? Pick out a handful to talk about and avoid as much as possible the question of dealing with the endless churn? Elevate a few to ambassador standing? To pick a random RPG maker game and say "Crystal Masters 2 came out in 2008" can be to imply, like, a launch party, or some immediate impact, or that anybody at all paid attention or cared - which in turn can distort the actual expectations of how these things would be recieved that to some extent affected their aesthetics and structure. It’s still better than nothing, and I’m being pedantic – but it's hard not to think about it when at times it feels like the only way this stuff can be written about and preserved is as a set of attenuated best-ofs, by either becoming a product or by being treated as one.

I think if most of my games have been commercial lately it's less a question of expecting to get money from them and more because that sometimes feels like the only way they'll still have some kind of trail left in 10 years. I always liked the idea of making time capsules and just hiding them away in a rabbithole somewhere for people to find. Right now it feels like the types of videogame spaces I'm most comfortable in - the kind least hung up on ideas of importance - are archival ones, digging through the debris of the past, curious about what they'll find. In reaction I guess to what feels personally like increasingly calcified, unliveable contemporary or franchise-oriented spaces of culture it can feel freeing to think about the other ones, of things instantly forgotten or which barely existed at all. Blind albino cave salamanders - - 64!!

(images: castlevanias ii and bloodlines)

[kaycares22]

when you see this, post an excerpt from a wip

It’s 8 o’clock on a Tuesday night, and the bar is mostly empty. A guy in a suit nursing three fingers worth of bourbon, a man and a woman who are seemingly together but both buried in their phones, two retirees with empty plates and empty beers sticking around for the conclusion of Game 3 of the World Series, a group of co-eds at one of the high tops. It’s halfway between San Francisco and Beacon Hills and hasn’t hosted a full house crowd since the 80s, which makes it perfect. Stiles picks a spot off to the side and slides onto a stool.

Before he’s even settled in, the bartender flashes him a smile and slips a cocktail napkin in front of his place. “Can I get you anything?” He opens his mouth to respond, but he’s quickly distracted by the TV screen on the opposite wall where the first baseman is about to make the final out of the night. She follows his line of sight, twisting around to watch the ball land perfectly in his glove. End of Game 3. A little ways down the bar, the two retirees grunt their approval, and the bartender swivels back around with an even wider smile. “Especially now that we’re celebrating.

Stiles raises an eyebrow in silent protest. “Celebrating?”

She mirrors his expression as she leans a little closer and says, “You live in California, and you’re going to root against the Angels?”

“My mom grew up in Chicago,” he says, holding up his hands in a what can you do? gesture.

“You’re rooting for the Cubs?” She scrunches up her nose in disapproval, and he gives a second shrug of his shoulders. “Well I might have to ask you to leave then. Want to order anything while I make up my mind?”

“Coors? Please.” The bartender nods and taps the surface of the bar twice before moving away.

Alone, Stiles pulls his phone and checks it. It’s now 8:04. He glances over his shoulder at the door, then back down at his phone, the screen still blank. His foot starts tapping against the rung of his stool, just a little faster than the song playing in the bar. It’s been years since he took something for his ADHD, but something itches beneath his skin as he glances down at his phone in time to watch the time flip over to 8:05. Then he glances over his shoulder again.

“So.”

Stiles’s head whips back at the sound. The bartender sets the bottle in front of him, lips pursed in whatever question comes next. About Chicago… he can practically hear her say. He’ll laugh and give another shrug as he recounts the story of his grandparents, Polish immigrants, who settled in the only major city in the Midwest teeming with reminders of home. About his mother who couldn’t wait to escape the miles of cornfields she grew up surrounded by. About his father stationed on the coast, the furthest thing from a cornfield. Because there’s no better time than 8 o’clock (8:06) on a Tuesday to spill your life story to a complete stranger. But she’s cut off by a gasp from somewhere behind Stiles, and one of those coeds is suddenly dangerously close to invading his personal space.

“Can you turn it up?” she breathes, blue eyes wide. “They’re talking about it.”

He follows her line of sight to the TV in the corner. The game is over, replaced by the nightly news. On the screen, a reporter talks to the camera, the US Capitol building a backsplash behind her. Stiles’s stomach wastes no time forming a thick, tight knot.

“It’s muted,” the bartender deadpans, but if the blonde notices, she doesn’t let on, as she nods eagerly. The bartender stares for another minute before she sighs and moves away to adjust the volume until the TV starts to compete with the Bruce Springsteen song still playing overhead.

“…has garnered a surprising amount of support in the last year, Ron,” the reporter says onscreen. “But there’s still a lot of upheaval over this controversial issue, especially outside of California.”

The image changes to a hallway somewhere, a middle-aged woman in a red dress now standing with a microphone in front of her face. “It’s just not safe. Who knows what those… those things are capable of?” She punctuates the question with a shiver, like she’s physically ridding herself of the thought.

Again, the camera switches to a slightly older man in a suit. “This is a slippery slope,” he says, wagging his finger at the camera in a way that probably won’t get him the re-election votes he thinks it will. “Pretty soon, people will be demanding rights for their pet goldfish. And what then?”

Stiles snorts at the irony of the guy’s statement, unintentionally breaking the silence that had settled over the bar.

“He’s right, you know,” one of the retirees says as he wags his finger in the same way, first at Stiles, then back at the TV. Stiles feels grateful when the stranger turns his attention back to his friend and busies himself with picking at the corner of his bottle’s label while still listening in. “We don’t know where this ends. And they’ll spread - like an infection. And how will we even know? You can’t tell by lookin’ at ‘em!”

“It’s almost like they’re just like us,” Stiles mutters under his breath as he works a corner loose. He didn’t realize the bartender had drifted back his direction, not until she leans forward and presses her elbows against the bar, also dangerously close to invading his personal space.

“They bothering you?”

He shakes his head. “They’re just -” But she cuts him off with a sigh.

“I’m just tired of it, y’know? Like I’m 28, and this hasn’t even been a thing till now. Couldn’t they have just stayed wherever it was they were?” Her words drip with empathy, and Stiles realizes too late that she thinks they share the same frustration. He’s silently glad he didn’t tell her his entire life story. “I mean, I get it - kinda - but it’s like - Oh shit.”

Stiles knows before he looks to see what she’s staring at just over his head. He knows before the door falls shut again. He knows before he realizes he can hear the door fall shut because it’s now silent - the entire bar.

“Jesus Christ,” the old guy mutters across the bar, and Stiles spins around, smile wide as he waves.

“Hey, Scotty!”

Scott stands just inside the door, like a deer caught in the headlights, which is probably a fitting metaphor right now. He blinks rapidly as he takes in the crowd of stares, all directed at him, and then he ducks his head and gazes down at his feet as he walks quickly to the empty stool beside Stiles’s. Derek has a tendency to square his shoulders and set his jaw now, a silent threat of what he’s capable of becoming, but Scott’s the opposite. He shrinks down into a form so human, no one would know if this entire mess hadn’t made him its poster child.

“Hey, y’know, next time?” Stiles says as he slaps his best friend on the back before he’s even sitting. “Maybe leave your scarlet L at home?”

Scott glares in his direction before starting to shrug his jacket off. His arm is almost free when that same blonde coed is back at their side, eyes even wider than before.

“Oh. My. God,” she sighs. Her face is so pale, Stiles worries that she might pass out. But then she squeals and grabs the bar, just shy of Scott’s elbow. “You’re Scott McCall!”

“No.” Stiles immediately leans back as far as he can, holding onto the bar to steady his stool that’s now balanced on its back two legs so he can see around Scott to the girl. “No, you can’t get a picture. No, he can’t do the thing with his eyes. No, he’s not going to show you his fangs or his claws. No, he’s never met Michael J. Fox, Michael Sheen, or Jack Nicholson, so he didn’t help them rehearse for the role. No, you don’t get to know if he’s single or dating or into humans.” Stiles pants as he finishes his rant, stopping to take a deep breath before he asks, “Any other questions?”

Her face quickly turns from alabaster white to bright red. At first, she looks like she might actually cry, but then she shakes her head as she takes a step back, directly into the arms of one of her friends who whispers something in her ear, carefully raising her voice for just the word asshole.

“Thank you,” Stiles says with a wave of his hand. He watches the girls turn back around and retreat to their table before he rocks his stool back to its steady base with a sigh. But as soon as he looks away from the girls, he’s met with Scott’s judgemental stare. Stiles sighs again. “What?”

“You couldn’t have been nicer to her?” he asks, voice hushed.

“You’re not a celebrity! You’re just… fighting the legal battle of the century.”

“It’s not the legal battle of the century,” Scott corrects in a mumble under his breath. He tries to stare straight ahead, but Stiles can see the way his eyes occasionally dart over to the elderly men who throw down a wad of cash and leave without another word. To the woman a little ways down the bar who’s stood up and stands behind the man she’s with now, knuckles white as she grips his shoulder while they wait for their bill. To the college girls who can’t stop gawking and whispering, like he’s Ryan Gosling or something. Eventually, he settles for staring up at the TV, where the evening news has thankfully moved on to recapping Game 3.

“Well, you made the news again tonight,” Stiles says with a sweep of his beer bottle in the direction of the TV. Scott looks back over at him with concern in his eyes, and Stiles rushes to correct himself. “The case did, I mean. Some asshat in a suit trying to argue that if Derek’s marriage is legal in Georgia, then some loser living in his mom’s basement might try to marry his pet fish.”

Scott turns his attention back to the TV, but there’s a tension in his shoulders now, fist clenched at his side. “Swinton,” he mutters, voice dropping a little quieter. Stiles raises an eyebrow, not recognizing the name. “Some scientist in Alabama. He’s the one who lobbied for that law that bans blue monkshood but not yellow.”

“So you can’t get drunk, but they can kill you.”

“Right.”

“Fuckers,” Stiles mutters under his breath.

Scott snorts, but sobers quickly with a sigh and a shake of his head. “That doesn’t matter. If we could just get the cagings and the lynchings to be illegal everywhere -”

“-And make sure you guys have basic human rights,” Stiles interjects.

“Just the torture. For now. Then we can worry about everything else.” Scott’s shoulders slump as that newest wave of anger ebbs, and Stiles reaches over to gently squeeze the back of his neck in a comforting gesture. Scott carries a lot of guilt in the space between his shoulders and etched into those new lines around his eyes that no amount of persuasion has helped to lessen in the past few years. He needs this victory more than he’ll admit aloud.

“We’re gonna win,” Stiles says as he squeezes his neck a second time.

Scott’s expression is more grimace than smile and doesn’t come close to meeting his eyes. “Does it count if it feels like this, though?”

Scott’s eyes scan the room, and Stiles’s gaze follows. The bigots and their unwanted commentary are long gone. So is the woman who shook like a leaf and buried her face in her husband’s shoulder when they walked past. The suit is still just sitting there, staring down into his glass of whiskey, but the college girls are crowded around their phones, probably basking in their newfound popularity after tweeting about their encounter. The bartender has moved down the bar, too, busy wiping down glasses as she keeps her distance now, either out of fear or embarrassment. This bar is a microcosm of their entire existence now: a weird mixture of fear, anger, and unwanted attention. There’s no future where Scott McCall doesn’t live on in infamy.

“Hopefully it doesn’t always feel like this,” Stiles offers with a shrug of his shoulders.

Scott’s expression moves a little closer to a smile, but there’s a sadness there, too. It makes him look older than his 26 years and more tired than Stiles has seen them awhile. They don’t talk about the casualties of this war they’ve been waging so much anymore, but everyone knows they’re there: Lydia. Issac. Malia. They all carry around battle scars now - lost opportunities, failed careers, doomed relationships, physical wounds, physical losses. Almost a decade of their lives.

It sounds like a cliche, but it started slow, when it did start almost a decade ago. There was a lot of fear after Scott was caught red-eyed and claw-handed in the library. That image stuck while Beacon Hills conveniently forgot Scott McCall saved their collective asses, and that fear bred a lot of hatred in return. Then Davis retracted their offer for Scott’s spot in the Class of

2016. Patients started refusing Melissa’s care. The county filed a lawsuit against Stiles’s dad.

It only got worse when other packs in other states stepped forward in solidarity. Scientists wanted to pull Scott and Derek apart - literally - in their quest for answers. Parents thought they should be locked away, somewhere where they couldn’t succomb to their thirst for blood and try to turn their children. Evangelicals tried exorcisms, which was surprising, considering it was always the Catholics who believed in demonic possession. The first lynching happened in Oklahoma. The cages first appeared in Tennessee. Ohio’s courts had to step in before hospitals stopped inflicting pain on newborn babies to see if they would shift. (That was almost five years ago, and no one has yet to confirm what happened to the babies that did shift.)

And that wasn’t even the worst of it. The worst of it was a domino effect leading back to here. Their legal battle started when Lahey’s Law was declared unconstitutional by the Michigan Supreme Court. It took three years before they went to trial. It was another two after that before Michigan, with Texas’s support, earned an appeal. And now, a year later, a final appeal to the Supreme Court.

They know the odds. Lydia memorized them first, but they can all recite them now: 15,000 cases apply, and the court can hear 100 at most. Certiorari is a part of Stiles’s every day vocabulary, Derek knows the justices’ decision records like other people know athletes’ stats, Scott has three lawyers on his speed dial. Stiles’s dad had asked how he was feeling after one of those first meetings with the lawyers, back when the loft was sufficient enough for strategizing and combing over evidence, and Stiles had said Like I should’ve paid better attention in Civics.

“Okay,” Stiles says now as he drums the top of the bar, pushing aside thoughts of their impending court case. “What do you got for me this time?” Scott looks a little startled by the question, and Stiles can’t help but smile. “What? You thought I thought you wanted to meet just because? So you can get a buzz via osmosis?” Stiles raises his beer in a solo toast before taking a drink.

Scott’s eyes dart around the room, and Stiles’s eyes follow, but it’s still just the guy in the suit, the girls huddled around their phones, the bartender who is obviously keeping her distance now. “I thought you said this place was empty,” Scott sighs.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t give me a whole lot of notice.” The timestamp on Scott’s Meet @ 8? Somewhere between? reads three hours ago, and Stiles is still just learning what exists between his hometown and San Francisco, his current home. “Plus, this is still better than the zoo your place is,” he adds, picturing the mess of reporters perpetually camped outside Scott’s Beacon Hills home. “It’s starting to look like you’re giving the Kardashians a run for their money.”

Scott ducks his head again, face suddenly read. “Someone wants to do a reality show.”

“No shit?” Stiles asks, brows raised. Scott nods. “I swear to god, I’ll kill you.”

Scott groans, but doesn’t bother to respond - they both already know the negative press outweighs whatever coverage would do to humanize the pack - as he reaches back behind him instead, fishing in the pocket of his jacket. A few seconds later, he pulls his hand free holding a photo that he slides across the bar.

In front of him, Stiles finds a young couple with wide smiles and a toddler balanced on the woman’s hip. He’s about Scott’s height with lighter hair and his arm looped around the woman’s waist. Her blonde hair falls just past her shoulders in soft curls, and the flash of the camera reflects in her hazel eyes in a way that makes them look almost amber, a color Stiles knows by heart. The toddler stares back at Stiles with matching eyes, clutching a fistful of her mother’s shirt, until Stiles’s chest physically starts to ache, and he has to flip the picture over. On the back, he finds writing:

Brendan Roades, 34

Callista Roades, 31

Poppy Roades, 3

“She’s a friend of Hannah’s, from the Michigan pack,” Scott explains as Stiles stares down at the list of names and ages until his eyes water. “She moved to Texas when she got married, but Hannah stayed in touch. I guess they mostly kept to themselves till a couple weeks ago when the baby shifted in public. And Texas -”

“Fuck,” Stiles cuts him off. “They’re gonna take the baby. The fucking government can take her because of that bullshit law and make her their little science experiment.”

“Which is why they left.” Stiles’s head snaps back up, staring at his friend in confusion. “Callista called Hannah, asked if it was safe to come back. But Hannah lost contact with them somewhere in the middle. That was five days ago.”

Stiles swallows hard as he flips the picture back over, studying their faces again. It’s not the first time Scott’s come to him with a story like this. He’s become the public face of what TIME Magazine has dubbed The WereRevolution, but the McCall pack had made a name for itself in the underground network of packs throughout the U.S. long before this all started. As things have become more complicated, he’s just become their contact more frequently. Neither of them remembers anymore if word got out on its own that a member of the pack now worked for the FBI, or if Scott had said those words in an attempt to provide solace to someone, but this has become their arrangement. Scott collects missing pack members’ stories, and Stiles pulls every string he can.

“They’re probably just holed up somewhere,” Scott says. “Waiting till it’s safe. Till it’s not everywhere.” He jerks his head toward the TV where the ticker tape now reads Viral petition amasses one million signatures in one day demanding NFL test for “weres.” Everywhere. “The Supreme Court’s gonna decide if they’ll hear our case or not any day. Maybe they’re just waiting it out.”

Stiles stares hard at the picture, moving his thumb to cover up the small child and her wide, innocent smile. The first time Scott handed him a photo like this, it took Stiles a week to connect the missing werewolf to a suicide that happened a week after cable networks started running ads for wolfsbane bullets. Two weeks ago, it was the victim of a hate crime in a state that hasn’t adopted Lahey’s Law, so no arrest was made.

Stiles sets the picture back down, revealing the toddler and her tiny fist, holding on for dear life. He reaches over to squeeze Scott’s shoulder just a little too hard. “We’ll find them.”

[pkmnomegaverse]

2, 5, 7, 8, 15, 21, 22, 37, 40, and 42 for hardenshipping pls?

2. Who’s the one to send the other “Ilove my gf/bf” memes

Maxie wouldnever do this, and wouldn’t find memes particularly funny either.  If one of them were going to send “I love mybf” memes to the other, it would have to be Archie.  Even then, he’s not that on top of currentsocial media trends and jokes, so the only way he would really see memes wouldbe if one of the grunts showed them to him. So he doesn’t generally send them to Maxie, and if he did, itwould be more to tease him since he knows Maxie wouldn’t appreciate it.

5. How many years did it take to getmarried or was it just not for them

If you countfrom the time they first starting dating when they were in Team Rockettogether, then it takes roughly 20 years for them to get married.  From the time they reconcile after the eventsof ORAS, they’re married less than a year after they’re back together.  They honestly would have been fine nevergetting married, but once they decide to try for a child, they decide to getmarried for legal reasons.  They don’thave a wedding ceremony and just get a marriage license issued through a court.

7. Are their friends/family supportive

Theirfriends/teams are mostly supportive, although they’re initially weirded out byit on both sides for varying reasons (although most aren’t that surprised whenthey really start to think about it). The Team Aqua members are slightly more supportive since they just wantArchie to be happy, but most do wonder why he would choose Maxie of allpeople.  Surely there’s someone he’sinterested in with a more agreeable personality.  Most assume their shared history is the maindraw, since the grunts are aware of the fact they were together in somesort of capacity back when they were in Team Rocket together. 

As for TeamMagma, they’re even more surprised than the Team Aqua members, since theassumption is that Maxie isn’t interested in being involved with anybody ingeneral.  More than a few grunts wonderif the rivalry between their two teams was actually some sort of long running lover’sfeud, but have enough sense to not voice this in front of Maxie.  In that sense, they’re more wary about theidea of them getting together, since they’ve already proven a breakup between thetwo of them has the potential to get ugly. In an effort to avoid Maxie’s wrath, no one is actually unsupportivethough, and as time goes on, everyone is relieved to see that the two dobalance each other out, even if they’re still prone to arguing.

As for theirfamilies, Archie is the only one that still has some contact with his family,specifically his mother.  She’s aware ofall of the shared history between the two, so she’s understanding of theirrelationship and is supportive, although like most, she’s concerned whetherthey’re relationship will end badly like it did last time.  Since she’s been around since the beginningthough, she’s not as worried as most since she figures if the two still havefeelings for each other after 20 years, they can make a relationship work ifthey really try for it.

As forMaxie, he cut all ties with his family around the same time he joined TeamRocket.  He comes from a wealthy familywho has very conservative views on what the role of an omega should be.  To escape that, he ended up leaving home theday he was of age and never looked back. If they were to somehow find out about his and Archie’s relationship,they would approve of the fact Maxie was finally settling down with an alpha tohave a child, but wouldn’t think that much of Archie in particular, thinkingMaxie should have found someone of higher social standing.  Archie being a self-made man who managed tobuild his own organization would be a point in his favor, but the fact he wasborn to a ‘lower class’ single mother would overshadow a lot of that.

8. How does one comfort the other when theother is in distress/having a panic attack/crying

It’s rarefor either of them to get upset to the point where they’d cry or have a panicattack, as both are good at repressing those sorts of emotions.  From both their time in Team Rocket and thenas the leaders of their respective organizations, they couldn’t afford to showweakness, so even around each other, they still don’t completely let thatdrop.  It’s too ingrained at this pointto always seem strong and collected.  That being said, Archie is the more transparent of the two and also theone who’s more honest about what he’s feeling, but when Maxie breaks, he breakshard. 

Talkingabout whatever the issue is can go either way since they’re prone to arguing, sothey’ll generally physically reassure the other first (whether this be throughsimple holding the other all the way up to sex varies), and once the other hascalmed down, then they’ll talk about whatever is bothering the other.   Both tend towards being pragmatic, soactually solving whatever is causing the other’s distress is viewed by each asthe best approach.

15. Have they saved each other’s livesbefore

Probably,almost certainly a few of those times being when they were in TeamRocket together.  What initially sparkedtheir relationship was how well they were able to work together in stressfulsituations on the fly.  While they hadseen each other around headquarters and Archie had tried to engage Maxie in conversationa few times (which resulted in Maxie brushing him off), it’s not until theyboth get into a dangerous situation on a mission together and are able to getout of it through quick-thinking as a team that they actually start to interactmore (or rather, Maxie deems Archie worthy of engaging with).  There are likely other situations they’ve beenin together where failure could have resulted in death, and it’s throughworking together that they’re able to keep each other alive.

21. What is their song? Like the song thatgives them overwhelming feelings?

I honestlycan’t see either of them having a specific song that’s “their song.”

22. What song do they listen to while goingon a joyride

Like most oftheir interests, they have completely varying tastes in music, so the mostcommon compromise is to either listen to nothing or turn whatever they do endup listening to down low.  They don’t generallygo on joyrides, so this would be an issue that rarely comes up.  The most likely time period they would have goneon random joyrides would be when they were first dating in their 20s, andduring that time, they’d be more likely to actually alternate who got to choosethe music.  This then turned into howlong the non-chooser could tolerate the music choice before demanding they puton something else.

37. Do they get into fights often? If sowhat do they fight over and how do they make up?

Theydo.  A lot.  Anything and everything is fair game to fightover, although it’s most often their differing viewpoints on how to approach anissue that gets them into arguments.  Tosome extent, bickering is second nature, and each has gotten better at nottaking what the other says personally, so it doesn’t often escalate into a fullblown fight.  When it does though,they’ve found it’s better if they each separate for a while to cool off, andthen re-discuss whatever the issue was once they’ve each had time to calmdown.  Part of what tore theirrelationship apart the first time was their inability to see the other’sviewpoint, so this time, they make a promise that even if they don’t seeeye-to-eye on an issue, they’ll always listen to and respect the other’sopinion.  It’s hard sometimes, butultimately a difference of opinions isn’t worth the loss of theirrelationship.  They’ve already learnedthis the hard way.

40. Who would fight in honor for the otherif someone would insult them

Both of themwould in varying circumstances.  It cango either way if they’ll fight someone if the person is simply insulting theother, since they both are forced to accept a certain amount of criticism dueto their past actions in Team Aqua and Team Magma.  Some criticism is fine, particularly if it’strue, as they’re both trying to rebuild their image in order for Team Terra toget backing.   They’d certainly want tofight the person, but they have to choose their battles in order to not damagetheir reputation further.  If the insultsstart to get particularly vicious or untrue, then it’s more likely they’llchallenge the person to a Pokemon battle to prove them wrong, but again, it’s a cost-benefit situation.  If someonewere to actually threaten the other though, then without hesitation, they’dfight for each other.   Of the two, Archie is slightly more likely to fight someone simply because he’smore impulsive than Maxie.  Maxie isbetter at repressing his feelings for the sake of the Team.

42. How would one react if the other was todie

Ultimately,as sad as each of them would be if the other were to die, they would move onand continue with their lives.  It doesdepend somewhat on when the other were to die though.  If it were to be shortly after their teamsgot back together, or especially while Dylan was young, it would be harderthen.  Not only would the survivor haveto lead the Team alone, but they would also end up as a single parent, alone inraising the child they had vowed to raise together.  In some ways though, due to having so manypeople relying on them, it would force the survivor to remain strong foreveryone else.  Having Dylan wouldprevent them from falling too far back into their old habits as well.  While Maxie would be at risk for becomingcold and harsh, he couldn’t for Dylan’s sack. In reverse, Archie would have to remain firm and resolute for Dylan, andcouldn’t fall into being impulsive and reckless.  It would be hard, but the survivor wouldultimately vow to live on in place of the other, doing the best they could toraise their child and make Team Terra the organization they had dreamed of together.

[creativeashproductions]

The Surname // Grayson Dolan

Summary: Keeping your birth surname a secret to create a name for yourself it leads to meet a certain twin. Overtime you fall in love and it comes out who exactly your related to and it doesn’t change a thing. Well except that your brother doesn’t know about this new love.

Sneak Peak: “Absolutely one hundred percent about to shit my pants scared.”

Characters: Grayson Dolan x Reader, Ethan Dolan, One Direction and Zayn Malik

Words: 2233

Disclaimer: I do not own any gifs that may appear in this. I do however take ownership of the fake tweets and instagrams posts that may appear. Also the people portrayed in this are based on the people in real life but I don’t know them personally so how they act and talk have differ.

Warnings: Swearing, and complete and utter fluff.

Author: Caitsy

A/N: I used to be a huge fan of One Direction and this popped in my head. I may not be obsessive over them but I wanted to write this. Enjoy and request more fics from us please. Also Anamchara means soul friend in Ireland.

Master List

Prompt List

ASK US A QUESTION LIST

Moving to LA was something you wouldn’t have thought where you were a kid but that was before your brother auditioned for the X Factor. It was an emotional rollercoaster as he shoved into a group and began an international hit. Six years younger than him you didn’t completely understand the fame.

You were eleven when he was given an amazing for yeses from the judges when your were sadly at school. You truly didn’t know how it was going to change your lives and when he called to let your know he was placed in a group you were further confused. They didn’t win The X Factor but Simon Cowell gave them a record deal.

As a member of the Payne family you did get approached by people about your brother which led to you being homeschooled. You began to use YouTube when you were thirteen before you truly gained popularity to the point that you couldn’t stay in England. You moved to LA while dropping the name last name Payne for your maternal grandmother’s maiden name.

“I have to know how did you get into YouTube?” Tamara asked on the TRL stage.

“It was an outlet when I was homeschooled. I was always seriously shy growing up and it helped with huge changes.”

“Well I have some YouTubers that would love to meet you.” Tamara said as twins walked on stage, “These are the Dolan Twins.”


“Hey.” Ethan said, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too.” You smiled back at them. Your attention turned back to Tamara who had that familiar expression wanting to know about your childhood, “I’m surprised my past hasn’t come up yet. It does make sense since I never talked about my family.”

“Are you opening up?” Tamara asked surprised.

“My birth name is Y/N Payne. I go by my grandmother’s maiden name to carve a name for myself.”


“Given the millions of followers I think you were successful.”

“I was eleven when my life changed. Liam Payne is my older brother and I’m the secret sibling he kept from the media due to my age even if some people did find out he was my brother but it didn’t get far.”

You could hear whispers of disbelief in the crowd given that there wasn’t a lot of information about you out there. You could understand it also.

“Did you ever meet the One Direction members?”



“Yeah. I’m pretty close to Niall the most. They’re pretty protective of me and Zayn’s always checking up on me. I’m sure I’ll be getting a call from them all later tonight.”

“Will they ever come back together?”



“My lips are sealed.” You joked before thanking them for bringing you onto set. Your eyes connected with the more quiet twin. He blushed moving his gaze somewhere else.

You spoke with Ethan a few times amid shocked expressions from him and his brother since you let them know your family. They complimented your thick accent before inviting you for some food.


“I can’t believe we’re talking to a One Direction family member.” Grayson admitted, “You got more cool.”

“Thank you.” You chuckled looking down to see your phone’s notifications going off.

You scanned the comments under his post seeing that Harry, Louis, Niall and Zayn commented on it before Twitter blew up by each member mentioning you. You were regretting the decision because you could be more open with your friends and family.

INSERT THE TWEETS

“Craziness is very much going to begin.” You mumbled looking up at the twins.

“Are you aware your followers have increased a shit ton?” Grayson asked showing you his phone to reveal the massive change in followers. You choked before checking all your social media to see the new change.

“My life just changed again.” You sighed leaning back with each boy in your eye. Grayson had your attention more than Ethan though. There was something about him.

“You aren’t fans of the boys are you?” You questioned.

“They have some good material.” Grayson shrugged. He was trying to not offend you. You chuckled agreeing with them.

“To be honest I never really bought any of their music. It was weird listening to my brother singing about love, sex and heartbreak.”

“Does Liam know that?” Grayson questioned, “Wait no! I have a better question! Did you ever have a crush on the other four?”



“Not really to be honest. When I first saw them I thought they were cute but nothing beyond that.” You shrugged, “They’re my big brothers and even if they aren’t together as much as before they’ll always be close.”

“Do you know any other celebrities?”



“No.” You shrugged, “I kept out of the limelight. The only other person that knew about me was Simon. He agreed to keep me away from it all. He’s a cool guy, pretty much like an uncle.”


“That’s really cool.” Ethan acknowledge digging into the food on his plate, “Do they know Nicki Minaj?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged earning a disappointed sigh from him. You were amused he had a celebrity crush on her, “Who knows Ethan maybe when your legal she’ll date you.”

“She’s seventeen years older than me. There’s no way that would happen.” Ethan denied. You raised on eyebrow up before pushing your phone across the table.

“That’s my nephew Bear. His parents, my brother and Cheryl have a ten year age difference, and they love each other to bits.” You smugly said as they looked at the image, “I miss him.”

“Did Liam move back to England?”


“Yeah. He moved to Sussex to live with Cheryl and Bear. He comes to LA a lot for his job but I don’t see him often.”

Overtime you kept in contact with the twins enough you hung out as much as possible with them even staying in your New York house when they were there. Liam and you co-owned the home and since it was the first place you lived together you couldn’t get rid of it. You rented it out sometimes but not often.

As time went on you did develop a relationship with Grayson that you both decided to keep out of the public. Not even your brother knew yet but when the year and a half came along you decided to do something crazy. You moved into a nicely sized house with Grayson that included a guest house in the backyard where Ethan moved into.

“I don’t know about this.” Grayson mumbled nervously as the car pulled down to a large house.

“We spent Christmas Eve with your parents. It’s time we spent Christmas Day with my family.” You chuckled, “Are you terrified?”



“Absolutely one hundred percent about to shit my pants scared.” Grayson quickly agreed, “I’m meeting your parents who don’t know about me!”

“They know you idiot.” You snorted shaking your head as your driver, Liam’s request, placed your bags on the sidewalk, “And Liam.”

“What?”



“Liam’s here. He’s the only that doesn’t know you.” You stated as you walked up to the door. It was decorated with the wreath you made in primary school.

The door was flung open revealing your older brother with a large grin on his place before you picked you up and hugged you tight. You relaxed into your brothers arms relishing in the same cologne he had used since the beginning of his career.

“I missed you.” Liam sighed leaning back with a laugh. His laugh ceased when he looked at the boy standing in the entryway, “Who is this?”



“This is Grayson. My boyfriend.” You admitted as Liam ushered you both in to the family room. You made a beeline for Cheryl holding Bear, “Look at my little nephew! You’re so cute.”

“Hey.” Cheryl grinned hugging you, “Good to know you don’t have an American accent.”

“Where’s Grayson?” Your mom mom Karen asked stealing Bear from you. Right at the end Grayson awkwardly shuffled into the room with a whole bunch of anxiety shooting through his veins.

“Is this the boy?” Cheryl whispered to Ruth with a grin. Ruth nodded back while Liam glared at the poor boy.

“We should play a game of football.” Dad suggested getting up from the chair, “Grayson would you like to join?”



“Uh sure.”

“It’s the equivalent to soccer in your country.” You whispered to Grayson with a wink before he got more courage to head out.

“I’ll be right out.” Liam called to the retreating forms of your father, Grayson and Ruth’s husband Thomas, “Y/N, how long have you been dating Grayson?”



“A year and a half. We moved in together.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Liam inquired crouching in front of you in the chair, “I’m just a little upset I didn’t know.”



“You’ve been so stressed about your solo career and the time away from Bear that I thought it would be best not to say something until I knew it would last.” You admitted playing with your hands. Liam grabbed them squeezing them.

“He obviously makes you very happy.” Liam whispered, “Just know that nothing is more important than my family. You can always come to me about things. If you love him then I’ll get to know him.”



“I love you Liam.”

“Love you too dork.” Liam chuckled standing up to head out the door, “Just know that I’ll gladly spend time in jail if he hurts you.”

Over time the other One Direction members, including Zayn, found out about the relationship when it hit the news. They didn’t have time to meet him in person before the invitations were sent out and media blew up when all five men were spotted at the event.

You were chatting with your childhood best friend when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned to see Niall grinning at you.

“Congratulations Anamchara on your marriage.” Niall grinned as people mingled around the room. You grinned hearing the familiar nickname Niall had called you since you first hung out, “Where’s your husband?”



“Over there.” You chuckled pointing to Grayson conversing with Ethan.

“Er…which one?” Niall asked confused.

“The one on the left is Grayson.” Liam said stepping into the conversation, “Nice lad. Are you still upset with me for buying you that house?”



“Yes!” You exclaimed at your brother, “Why do I need a house in England?!”



“Grayson and you can use it when you visit and it’s big enough that if his family wants to come to England they have a place to stay.”

“We got married in England, isn’t that enough for you?” You whined halfheartedly as Cheryl stepped over with Bear stumbling over his feet.

“Hey Babe.” Grayson mumbled hugging you from behind, “Ethan’s demanding a dance from you in his own extra way.”

“Of course he is.” You chuckled as Ethan drew closer with a grin.

“Anamchara best not keep him waiting.” Niall chuckled as Ethan dragged you onto the dance floor for not even a minute before Harry cut in.

“Hey Gary, mind if I cut in?” Harry asked already gripping your hand.

“I’m Ethan!” Ethan groaned throwing his head back, “And my brother’s name is Grayson.”

“Sorry.” Harry lightly blushed, “I’m not good with names.”

Ethan mumbled something as he wandered off to join his parents and your parents talking to each other.

“Who knew it would be my wedding that brought the band together at the same time?” You joked.

“Zayn isn’t here.” Harry chuckled swaying to the music.

“He is.” You smiled as the former One Direction member walked in to the room with his sunglasses on and a sharp all black suit. He made a beeline to you with little heavy breathing.

“Shit. I’m sorry I’m late.” Zayn huffed leaning forward, “The fucking plane was delayed in Los Angeles then I couldn’t off so by the time I was here you were already on your way to the reception.”

“It’s okay.”



“Where’s the crazy guy?” Zayn joked shoving his glasses into his pocket. His eyes landed on Grayson’s approaching form.

“Crazy?” You asked confused.

“He’s crazy for marrying you.” Zayn teased before stepping towards Grayson, “Zayn Malik, honorary brother.”



“Grayson Dolan, husband.” Gray laughed slipping his arm around you waist as he got close with the people he hadn’t met before in the three years you had been dating.

There was alcohol at your wedding even if you were in England you made it clear that every young looking person be carded. Grayson was adamant that if anyone from the US was there that if they weren’t twenty one they weren’t allowed alcohol. You agreed with little resistance to your husband when he brought it up.

You were happy now especially with everyone you loved at your wedding. You knew shit would hit the fan when it was released you got married to Grayson. Your fans didn’t know when the wedding was going to take place because it was private and it would hit further when it got out that Zayn wasn’t there for the ceremony.

“Guess you have to change your social media usernames again.” Liam smiled standing next to you and Grayson.

“All I seem to do is change my surname.” You joked leaning against Grayson.

Fame sucked but without it you wouldn’t have four protective honorary brothers or a husband you loved an incredible amount.

Forever Tag List

@cityofsobbingfangirls @tas898 @barbidollash @trustnobodyshootfirst @winchesterfanfiction @deanwinchesterisamazing @oh-my-hecky-padalecki @padackles2010 @msimpala67 @deangirl5509 @heyitssilverwolf @therealme13posts @petlaufeyson @professionally-crazed @winterhurricane @tearsandbloodofmyenemies @blackwidow-romanoff @crazybarnes @marvelofcourse @takemetothefictionalworld @destiel67bellarke @ohmy-sammy @fightinthepain @vivabucky @waituntilthedustsettles @daydreaming1393 @cumonbucky @inhumans-of-shield @basicwhiskeyprincesss @soulfull-ofevans @spookass @glitterintheairblog @girl-with-wild-dreams @frickin-bats @darkestgrungeuniverse @shamvictoria11 @buckyappreciationsociety @sammysgirl1997 @fly-f0rever @archer-whovian-violinist @jenn0755 @anamarieswift2194 @unicornofdanger @ifyoudie @jealousbitxh @stormin-thru-glitter @sparklyaura @stilescstilinski @curlyxtomato @katshrev @its-sanaa-k @theoismydad @im-a-light-child @tmriddler @flirtswithdanger @divide-supermarketflowers @arkhamasylumpatient-blog1 @introverted-fandom-human @jennylj16 @potterandbucky @harleenq4life @runs-with-sciss0rs @superhero-lover101 @ridingmoxley

[onenettvchannel]

#OneNETnewsInvestigates: American Netizens & Bashers are Boycotting the Nintendo for Skipping All the Independent Games and Caring for Super Smash Bros. Ultimate

KYOTO, JAPAN -- A partner showcase presentation of Nintendo Direct Mini was not in good shape for the bashers around last Thursday at 10am (Eastern local time) for skipping all the Indie Games (which affects the Undertale and Jackbox Games). Miko Kubota (Radyo Patrol #20's Veteran Reporter) was on the scene for our Investigation to OneNETnews.

In case you're wondering on both of these... What is Nintendo, Nintendo Direct & Indie Games? According to the information database from Wikipedia, "Nintendo Co. Ltd. is a Japanese multinational consumer electronics & video game company headquartered in Kyoto City. The company was founded in 1889 as Nintendo Karuta by craftsman Fusajiro Yamauchi and originally produced handmade hanafuda playing cards. After venturing into various lines of business during the 1960s and acquiring a legal status as a public company under the current company name, Nintendo distributed its first video game console, the Color TV-Game, in 1977. It gained international recognition with the release of the Nintendo Entertainment System in 1985".

On the other hand adds, "Nintendo Direct is a series of online presentation or live shows produced by Nintendo, where information regarding the company's content or franchises is presented, such as information about games and consoles. The presentations began in Japan and North America with the first edition on October 2011. While a shorter version of the main type of Nintendo Direct that showcases information about software and hardware across all Nintendo platforms. There is also a separate vertent of this type of Nintendo Direct, named Nintendo Direct Mini: Partner Showcase that feature games from Nintendo's developing and publishing partners".

And for the Independent Games however... "An independent video game or indie game is a video game typically created by individuals or smaller development teams without the financial and technical support of a large game publisher, in contrast to most (triple-A) games".

#NintendoDirectMini: Partner Showcase | September 2020https://t.co/Nfzd8zXfzF

— Nintendo of America (@NintendoAmerica) September 17, 2020

Just a few hours before the Partner Showcase, these bashers are deadly unhealthy. This happens before...

Yeah, I hate how nintendo fans begging for more newer nintendo games like Mario anniversary collection for example, than indie games and Third party games treatment which is don’t care about.

— Mat 💫 (@Iczer07) September 1, 2020

personally im skipping these partner showcases and staying uninformed about anything announced in them until Nintendo at least stops calling these streams Direct Minis

— snakehugz (@snakehugz) September 16, 2020

calling these filler streams "Direct Minis" tarnishes the reputation of the Nintendo Direct, please stop referring to it as if it is an actual Direct or Direct Mini

— snakehugz (@snakehugz) September 16, 2020

Nintendo fans thinking smash will be in the mini direct pic.twitter.com/tHiYRjbIhQ

— reyn time (@blackwidow2234) September 16, 2020

Really, Nintendo? Another partner showcase? If this is what you think of your fans, this is what I think of you. pic.twitter.com/QjYFG60Pql

— robothing (@MarioToenails) September 16, 2020

I'm not, and I'd say the same for indies who don't deserve the hate they've got in the last days. I'm just arguing that these last non-first party showcases had a bad timing. It doesn't help on anything with Nintendo's eternal silence.

— DoE (@DevilOfEdginess) August 27, 2020

i canot bleieve nbtendo didn’t give me my mario 64 remastered revengEan e at the indie game showcase!!!!!!!!!! fuck u nintendo idiot sitpid AAAAA AI HATE NINRENDOahahahaaaaaaa stipud idiot ocompany!!!!! pic.twitter.com/HJ5QxJ7qNU

— mindfloww (@mindfloww_) August 19, 2020

And after.

Example: Smashers LOVE to hate nintendo for every decision in any smash game. But then completely ignore or make fun of indie platform fighters. They'll go to great distances to play like....project m, or melee on an emulator. But won't touch Icons, Brawlout, or RoA.

— Jamison (@Ggjeed) July 22, 2020

>Nintendo indie direct >No smash announcement Wow Nintendo do you just like hate money or something? fuck you Nintendo, I'm never purchasing another game from you for the next 26 seconds you hate your fans and you just lost another one

— |VRG| Rusty! (@JohnExodiaWick) March 17, 2020

To be quite honest, I kinda hate watching #NintendoDirectMini and #NintendoDirect because it's usually filled with a lot of toxic fans who hate it even if it has FANTASTIC announcements because "Duh, no Smash means bad Direct, duh."

— Yaboichipsahoy (@YaBoiCh43658878) September 17, 2020

I'm unfollowing #Nintendo twitter. The past 6 months have been nothing but hate against Nintendo, and they had me convinced Nintendo was really doing us wrong. After today's #NintendoDirect, I know they just take their time and do it right.

— Tanishq Kancharla (@moonriseTK) September 3, 2020

STILL NO HOTEL MARIO ON SWITCH??? IM DONE FUCK YOU @NintendoAmerica #Nintendo #NintendoDirect I HATE YOU. THIS IS YOUR OWN FAULT I AM NEVER BUYING NINTENDO AGAIN NO ONE CARES ABOUT 3D MARIO!!!' pic.twitter.com/Xbp4pOuQfg

— lucia ⛓ (@GDDR6X) September 3, 2020

Just a thought, but gaming fans should either A. Appreciate the indie titles that get announced and find the ones that look fun to them OR B. STFU 🤷🏼‍♂️#NintendoDirect pic.twitter.com/VdPwJKP3XC

— 𝔻 𝕒 𝕧 𝕚 𝕕 𝔾 𝕚 𝕝 𝕥 𝕚 𝕟 𝕒 𝕟 (@DaGiltyMan) August 26, 2020

Another crappy showcase. Great job Nintendo. You're the king when it comes to crappy showcases

— Robyn Wolph (@LegendOfZelda77) September 17, 2020

Worst direct ever, there wasnt even a reveal for the rest of the smash dlc 2, botw 2, splatoon 3, super mario galaxy 3, not even smash dlc 3 and 4 😡😡

— Dnamssdup (@DnaDan6) September 17, 2020

THERE WILL NOT BE SMASH BROTHERS IN THIS DIRECT!

— Jaedon Daniels | SirPeelz (@JaedonDaniels1) September 17, 2020

Nintendo: We're going to showcase titles from our developing partners. Twitter: BOTW 2! Every Smash Reveal! PRIME 4!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's like you people can't read.

— Stormageddon222 (@Stormageddon222) September 17, 2020

Most of these reveals are old ones so that’s a bit shitty to do to us. 2.5/10

— Jaxon Skye (@WiiMusicDevil) September 17, 2020

These tweets are subject for boycotting with the honest shameless retards at the moment, in skipping all the Independent Games and caring for Super Smash Bros. Ultimate.

I hate indie games, leave that for Nintendo’s man!

— Jigen (@yesdimeji) September 16, 2020

Imagine being an indie game developer and working hard on your game for it to be released in the switch. And you have to deal with hate from nintendo fanboys just because you aren't a direct or new smash bros character. Atleast try their games out before assuming its bad. pic.twitter.com/8IqS6VH3RY

— 🖤Andrea Chan🖤 (@real_andreachan) August 31, 2020

I hate Nintendo fans. Count the indies & third parties in 2020 just like the 2017 image, or fuck off with your inaccurate comparison that you're posting just for clout. https://t.co/XTWYOrvL1n

— Billy (@Billybae10K) August 22, 2020

"WHERE WAS SMASH!?!?! I HATE NINTENDO!". Not everything has to be about Smash DLC and stuff like that. Just be happy with what we get. If you can't do that, then just don't watch the Indie and Third Party directs.

— Ruby (@ruby52986) August 26, 2020

YOU MEAN THERE ISNT GOING TO BE 10 NEW MARIO GAMES ANNOUNCED?!? WHAT ABOUT SMASH >:(((TYPICAL NINTENDO, TAKING THEIR TIME AS USUAL. GOD I HATE NINTENDO. I HAVE HIGH EXPECTATIONS FOR THIS DIRECT, AND THE FACT THEY MISSPELLED NINTENDO AS "INDIE" SHOWS THAT THIS DIRECT IS GONNA SUCK https://t.co/Aq7MUIUifG

— Cryptik (@PhantomCryptik) August 17, 2020

I understand why people are upset about the absence of a full #NintendoDirect but the Mini Partner Directs and the Indie Worlds are allowing the third party games to have room to flourish while Nintendo just relaxes and rides the #AnimalCrossingNewHorizions wave.

— Stephen C (@theday) August 26, 2020

You are funny. I imagine you do the same to every person you find that has a different opinion than you. I did not started this conversation to insult you nor boycott or call you a faggot. I just been incredibly underwhelmed with Nintendo recently.

— Hollowboy (@Koukunari) September 17, 2020

SHUT UP THE GAMES RUINED IM NOT BUYING IT BOYCOTT NINTENDO HHH!!!!1!!!1!!!!!

— sour (@sour_yoshi) September 16, 2020

How dare Nintendo draw a red circle around Mario's sexy mustache BOYCOTT THIS FUCKING GAME!!!!! https://t.co/ynnZk8BU3g

— Ελευθερία ή Θάνατος (@TheCutePyro) September 16, 2020

Sucks huh? Hahaha Nintendo fans should boycott this game and play Devil May Cry 2 (Now available on the Nintendo Switch) instead. pic.twitter.com/2n6b0pXzkT

— shhhh (@terukhoe) September 15, 2020

Mfw the entire internet tells me that Mario 3D All Stars is an absolute rip off with a stupid selling window and that I should boycott Nintendo for it pic.twitter.com/gACXQFJBHe

— Alek (@Trail_txt) September 13, 2020

#BoycottZelda #BoycottNintendo #STOPPERREO https://t.co/SUsGYyWNw9

— Маrshall [#AviciiForever ] ◢◤/⚫⚫⚫ #CowboyBebop20th (@MarshalAfterAll) September 11, 2020

Although this happens for Undertale & Jackbox Games are up for boycotting issue on Nintendo.

DON'T GET THE "UNDERTALE" OR "DELTARUNE" THEY WILL GIVE YOU THE COVID Their made by Toby "Radiation" Fox, yes you read that right, the same radiation as 5G!! BOYCOTT UNDERTALE NOW!

— Thomas (@thomasnet_mc) May 2, 2020

Why not cancel @tobyfox ? And boycott undertale while we are at it pic.twitter.com/Yq4sAeOyx1

— Angel Simp Ara (@karikoritene) August 29, 2019

were playing 1 of the jackbox games n i hate this 1

— 🍔 cheese 🌻 erasermic brainrot (@GargoyleHouse69) September 5, 2020

After however many months in quarantine I truly, from the bottom of my heart, hate Jackbox games. I cannot stress this enough.

— Katie Burke (@senicRTKate) July 24, 2020

ALL MY IRLS ARE BORING MEANING THERE IS NO WAY RHEY WOULD GET JACKBOX GAMES HATE IT HERE

— strawberry 🍓 ophie month (@loonacatgirIs) June 25, 2020

NOBODY EVER WANTS TO PLAY THE DRAWING JACKBOX GAMES AND I HATE IT

— Rinzy 🖌️🖋️ 💙 (@RinzyArt) March 25, 2020

The Jackbox games are fun. The Jackbox community is hot garbage. Your experience is a cut of the same cloth from every Jackbox stream I've seen. Inevitably, some shithead will drop in and ruin the fun for everyone. I hate people sometimes.

— G O Λ T S (@lordofgoats_) October 7, 2019

We speak with Justin Smith (@JBN029) on Twitter's Direct Message (a small affiliate from YouTube Gaming) told exclusively to OneNETnews for this response:

Basher tweets are close to unfair for boycotting all the Nintendo products and games with the Hate Speech in a political way. His private response that only handles for the Hardcore fans of Nintendo with the newest games today. That doesn't mean the company of Nintendo has no shame to do and forced to shut down originally in Japan and worldwide.

Nintendo does not have a comment to OneNETnews as unfornate but... No apologies was made for this controversy at the Nintendo Direct Mini's partner showcase except for the hidden voiceover to The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, takes over to Monster Hunter Stories 2.

Special Thanks to DJ Unikitty (formerly ColeThePony from Canada) for sending us a news tip.

SOURCE: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nintendo https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nintendo_Direct https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCvCod83ilJ3jwkkOxSS8yNw/about?disable_polymer=1 https://www.shacknews.com/article/120427/monster-hunter-stories-2-wings-of-ruin-will-let-us-befriend-rathalos-on-switch-in-2021

SEVERELY HONEST DISCLAIMER: The views and opinions expressed from this news article are not necessarily those from the Nintendo Co. Ltd. Furthermore, the assumptions of this news article will NOT state, intervene or reflect those of our Radyo Patrol reporters. The station, management, interwebs and the network. Thanks for reading everypony!

-- OneNETnews Team

[mistwolf-wanderer]

A Professional in a Team of Randos

Commission I did for @viceterships !

Genji Shimada contacts Hana Song to request that she join Overwatch. She turns him down, and tells him exactly why.

Genji Shimada sits across from Hana “D.Va” Song. Canned coffee and instant ramen sit on the table before him, neither impressive nor repulsive, staring him down with as much intensity as Hana’s stare. He carefully reaches over and takes the ramen and chopsticks in his hand and peels back the lid before stirring the contents around. He sniffs.

“Spicy flavor?” “I wanted to see you suffer.” “Thanks.”

He takes a long, careful sip of the broth, coughs, and nods before opening the coffee and taking a deep swig.

“I am suffering,” he remarks. “So you win.” “Always play to win,” Hana sighs, rolling her eyes.  “So why are you here, unannounced, shoving dusty-ass Overwatch flyers in my face?”  Genji swallows and takes a second to compose himself. She waits, crossing her arms.

“We have thirty minutes until my stream starts and I kick you out,” she comments. “I hope you’re aware.”

He nods.  “Of course. Friends though we are, I wouldn’t have you missing your stream for me.”

“Who said we’re friends?”

“I assumed we were, after all those games we played together, and the races we’ve had.”

“We are,” she grins.  “So continue.”  

Genji sets down his coffee and bows his head respectfully.  Hana snorts.

“I’ve come to ask you to join overwatch as D.Va.”

Hana looks at Genji for a beat, face neutral. She taps her chin.

“Nah.”

“‘Nah’?”

“Yeah, I’m not doing that.”

Genji rubs his face.  “Are you bound by contract or something? I would think you of all people would jump at the challenge of saving the world from devastation.”

Hana clicks her tongue.  “It’s not an issue of ‘can’t’ or ‘not allowed,’ it’s an issue of ‘won’t’ and ‘this is stupid’.” She sits back. “Overwatch was disbanded―end of story. So why bring it back?”

“I told you, we believe the world needs heroes―”

“―And we are those heroes. But has it ever occurred to you that even all you guys put together won’t be enough?”

Genji looks at her quietly, curiously.  He waits for her to go on. Hana gestures to her symbol―the bunny that marks her mech as her own.

“The reason you’re here is for that, not me.” She gives him a once over. “You have master tacticians and military leaders at your back. So, check and check, you already have what Hana Song can give.” She sits back. “You need D.Va, and you need my MEKA. The strength. The armor. The bullets. But did you ever think to wonder where it comes from?”

Genji nods.  “MEKA is a branch of the Korean military, which uses human pilots instead of drones to fight hostile omnics.”

“Right,” Hana says.  “But MEKA doesn’t come from the military alone, specifically because of the people involved.”  She smiles and points to Genji. “You’re a gamer, Genji. You’re not pro, but I’m sure you’ve played enough competitive games to know what I mean when I say we’re not always exactly…”

“―Team players,” he finishes.

“A good shotcaller can bring a team together,” she says, bringing her fingers into a mesh, “but when you’re all pros, sometimes you all think you’re a shotcaller, and the team falls apart.”  She lets her hands fall back to the table, undone.  “We customize our MEKA with sponsorship money, not military funds. We’re barely qualified to be called military, if you look at the way we operate. No uniform, no ranks, no true military training.”  She points to the Overwatch flyer.  “You’ll be like us at level one.”

“A team of heroes from across the world have the diversity we need to tackle every obstacle, but…”

“You know they’ll be relatively untrained, with little to no chemistry at the first go, and the civilian casualties and environmental destruction will cost you millions when―not if―you get sued.”

Genji sits back, uncrossing his legs and leaning back and closing his eyes.

He can see in his mind’s eye a future where everyone is together.  The world’s best assembled before him.

And they are nothing like the team he knew years ago.

Half are gone, the other half is made of new recruits.  The one with the most military experience is Fareeha Amari, Ana Amari’s only daughter, and he can see the shadow cast behind her. Not nearly as tall as her mother’s.

Angela Ziegler has no incentive to return―not after what happened in Switzerland.

Reinhardt will answer the call, but the man is over sixty now, with a creaking back and old suit of armor.

Reyes and Morrison are dead, or they should be. But of course, Genji should be too.

He blinks.  The list of names goes on and on.  For a second, he thinks of Hanzo and sighs.  He rubs his eyes.  “So what do you propose we do, Ms. Song?”

Hana grimaces.  “Ew, don’t call me that, it makes me sound old.”

“You are nineteen.”

“And we’ve yet to move, as a society, from the idea that women should be married by 25. So don’t call me that.” She makes a face. “Or else I’ll start calling you Mr. Shimada.  Or maybe Shimada-sama?”

Genji grins and laughs lightly, putting a hand on his face. “Please, Hana, never call me that again.”

“Contract signed and honored, pal.” She grins.  It fades quickly.  She leans back on her hands and looks to the side, out the window to the city lights outside.

“That was quite the face journey you went on,” she comments.

“I was just thinking about how you’re right.”

“About?”

“Overwatch being a bad idea.”

“I don’t think that making a group of heroes to address worldwide pain is bad, but we aren’t the Justice League. And they had their fair share of legal issues for obvious reasons.”

Genji sighs again.  “So what do you propose instead? The wheels are in motion, and I can’t just tell them to shut down alone.”

“I feel like the answer’s obvious.”

Genji cocks his head at her.  “How so?”

“MEKA only works because of three things, and it’s the same reason all pro-gaming teams do well.”  She counts off on her fingers.  “Team synergy, public support, and sponsorships.  Money.”  She looks at her symbol again.  “This icon is mine, not the military’s. And my fans recognize me for it. They don’t recognize me because I’m in MEKA, they recognize MEKA because I’m in it.”

Genji nods slowly.  “Overwatch was shut down for a reason,” he says, contemplative.  “I may have been one of those reasons, at some point.” He sits back up and looks at his hands.  “With these hands, I…” He sighs. “Let’s say I was angry back then. Overwatch gave me an outlet,” he closes his hands, “but it wasn’t what I needed.”

“Not what the public needed either, I assume.” She watches him think and crosses her arms.  “And now that Overwatch is disbanded, you’re fundsless.”

“Totally broke,” Genji agrees.  “And I’m dead to the world, so I’m not getting any of my inheritance.” They share a grim chuckle that falls swiftly into silence.

“I don’t have a solution,” Hana professes.  “Your name is wrecked. Brand name, I mean, and that’s what you’re selling.” She sighs. “Maybe for some of the members, it would be enough to call them back just to relive the glory days. But the public will see those faces and remember what happened. Meanwhile, your newbies will be disorganized and without a real common goal.”

“Isn’t saving the world a common goal?”

“Isn’t it always? Everyone wants to rule the world or save it―and those things aren’t mutually exclusive.”  She sighs.  “You see it, right? The issues an org like this has?”

“I do,” Genji says.  He gets up and stretches, servos whirring as he does.  He sighs.  “And here’s what I want to propose to you.”

He takes a second to breathe.  “Overwatch may not be able to offer you anything. Perhaps joining us would only bring you down.”  He looks back down at her, then bows at the waist. “But we need you. You said it yourself―you have the fans, the sponsors, and you know how to make a team work.  You have the platform that could make us work.” He stands up straight and smiles at her, hesitant and sincere.  “We may not know everyone who needs saving, or have the best history, or even have a lot of money, but I know that we could become better.  And I think you could help.”

Hana blinks at him slowly.  “That’s a lot of smooth talking,” she says slowly.  “Turning all my points on me like that and stroking my ego...you’re a real piece of work.”  She smiles.  She gets up and hands him his coffee and ramen, both gone cold.

“We’re friends,” she says.  “So for you? Maybe I’ll think about chasing something totally stupid, like an extralegal superpower organization with a shit ton of guns.”  She pats his back, then turns him around.  “But for now, I need you outta here.  I have a stream to do, and you’re in the way.”

Genji grins and puts his mask back on his face before saluting and climbing out her window.  She leans out the window and shakes a fist at him.  “Use the door next time!”  She sighs and stretches before settling before her computer and setting up her stream.

She settles into her persona as D.Va and begins her stream, interacting with the fans casually while she gets into the flow of the game.  On a whim, she glances back to look at the flyer Genji left on her desk.

Ana Amari’s valiant image stands clear on its faded-print surface.  She returns to the game, thoughtful.

“So what do you guys think about Overwatch?”

[mchalowitz]

fic: with/without child

summary: they imagine a life with their son, they try to find him.

Trust no one morphs into trust everyone.

Emails received from anonymous senders, addresses dropped into his lap. A hacked last name of unsubstantiated origin. He keeps this from the one person he really, truly trusts, and tries to believe that this is a noble decision. Her heart has been through too much, he rationalizes. She has felt the stabs of anguish too much by his hand. By withholding what he knows, he causes that pain all the same.

He goes to the far reaches of the country on a hunch, under the guise of visiting his mother’s gravesite. He’s been a free man for a year or so, it feels like something he would need to check off his list of things to catch up on. She’s confused, he was never close with his mother anyway, but she’s glad he’s getting out of the house when she’s spending so much time at the hospital. He kisses her cheek before he leaves with a suitcase in hand. 

He believed he would meet his son. He didn’t. 

Mulder has thought of his son a thousand times. 

A flash of copper hair and toothless smiles when he hands a complacent technician his sample cup at the donor lab, visions of clumsy waddling and eating popsicles in the grass during humid nights on the run. He wastes away in his office, dreaming of kitchen science experiments, and hashing out the dynamics of kindergarten romances.

Bringing up their son to Scully is like adding vinegar to baking soda, an explosion occurs.

If Scully allows herself to dream about a life with William, she would never let him know. In bares bones motel rooms once upon the time, the questions were always on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to know everything, right down to the way he smelled, and how he fussed. He never thought he had any parental instincts until the moment he held that baby in his arms. 

For a few months, they stayed in an off-the-grid cabin in the thick forests of Montana. It was the farthest north they ever went, the closest to a life of freedom they rejected across the border. It was the first time they stayed somewhere more than a few weeks, a respite from motel rooms and truck stops. It was peaceful, comfortable, the first seed of inspiration to find their own home. 

They get a little drunk a couple nights in, loosened by cheap merlot. Her feet  stretched across his lap, her small body sunken into the ancient cushions. “Do you think he’s okay?” he remembers asking, twisting his glass in his hand. His alcohol sloshed brain cannot hold this in any longer. “His p--the people he’s with, do you think they’re good?” She says she hopes so, with a hint of a tremble in her tone.

She imagines him as a little boy with her hair and his eyes. His first word is something strange like Okobogee or mothman. He loves books and never sleeps. He tells her he wants to be a doctor, he tells him he wants to be a ghost buster. 

He sees his son more in scenes than details. Chewing on Mulder’s index finger when he teethes, while Scully stands by insisting it’s unsanitary. Road trips to amusement parks that aren’t haunted. Telling him tales of his parents’ adventures like fairytales until he insists he’s too old for these made up stories. 

They never have another conversation about their son that doesn’t end in tears and slammed doors, accusations of resentment for the other’s choices. The guilt cuts hot and deep. Eventually, it seems better to hold it inside. 

It is not an active decision to find more joy in their lives, it just happens. It’s a transition they knew would come eventually, where they have whole days where they don’t think about the fact that they have a son somewhere in the world. They laugh until they can’t breath at each other’s jokes, they like to go to the farmer’s market on weekends with their outfits that unintentionally match just enough to make other people jealous. They make love for no purpose other than because it’s fun. They exchange vows and it is the purest moment of bliss they have ever experienced. 

They are still two parents without a child. They sleep side by side, wonder if giving him up really kept him safe.

It takes more than five years for him to admit to her he used his connections to track him down. More than once. He still keeps the trips to the far reaches of the country on false leads to himself. The world not ending is not the only reason he fell into darkness, ruined their lives, their marriage. 

Mulder believes this time will be different. Their car parked in the shadows, they stare down another government facility. Their relationship was built on trespassing. He wonders how many twenty foot high fences he’s had to boost her over. He sees her wedding ring glinting in the light. “Don’t want our son to think we’re living in sin?” he asks. He can’t go long without making a stupid joke. 

“Mulder, shut up,” she tells him as she swings her leg over the top. He makes a comment about the possibility of being too old for fences. 

Scully starts to respond when he shushes her, pulling her around the nearest corner. They’re rusty at the whole trespassing thing. They didn’t spend enough time accessing the area. Two guards, rifles in hand, cross from one building to another. He waits for them to disappear inside the building. He starts to follow. 

“What makes you think that building is the right one?” 

“It’s been twenty-four years, Scully, you should know a lot of my work is based on hunches.”

He doesn’t expect her to be satisfied by this answer and she isn’t. It has no basis of actual fact. Mulder, in a less than legal fashion, has acquired a keycard to the facility. He thinks. He hopes. He slides it. There’s a click, a flash of green. He opens the door, holding his arm high so she can walk underneath. 

"Alright, since you seem to have a handle on this, which way?"

"Split up, meet back at the car? If you get the milk, I’ll get the eggs."

She decides left in aggravation. With the militarian exterior, he was expecting something a bit more drab, but this facility is almost hospital-like, with its bright florescent lights, and white walls. Underneath, there is something very prison-esque. Each door appears like a vessel of confinement. “I think it’s this one,” Scully tells him. 

"Why?"

"I thought we were working purely on vibes this time around."

“I said hunches, not vibes. Totally different,” he tells her. There’s a bin next to the door, holding a file. She grabs it, begins to read as he watches. She wordlessly urges him with a pat on his arm to unlock the door. She rips out the papers, shoves them into her jacket. 

Click, green. He pushes the door open. The light in the room is almost tortuously overwhelming. It feels like there isn’t enough time to process the images in front of them before Mulder feels a body push hard against him. His partner falls to the ground.

Mulder starts to kneel down to help Scully as she scrambles to her feet. “I’m okay, I’m okay. Mulder, we have to catch him before they do. They’ll kill him.” 

They take off down the hallway. Her hair is flapping behind her, she’s always been faster than him. They follow the squeaking sound of sneakers, the same body being forced against heavy doors to the outside. There aren’t a lot of choices when it comes to hiding places. There’s another building a few yards ahead, more of a warehouse. They watch the door swing shut. 

This is not the kind of game of hide and seek he saw in his mind.

Inside the empty building, it’s almost pitch black. The only light comes from the moon shining through the openings near the ceiling. There’s the click from a gun. 

In all his fantasies, he never sees his child behind the barrel of a gun. 

"Put your hands up!"

Mulder and Scully exchange a look, raise their hands. The light finally hits the child’s face and they both know what the other is thinking. They both imagined a copy of Scully, with her auburn hair, and fair skin, and slight frame. This William, the real one, looks like faded photographs of his father in Oxford sweatshirts and floppy hair. Scully is in there, with his piercing sky eyes, and hints of that auburn color, but anyone’s doubt about the father of this child can be erased in an instant. 

"William," Scully says softly, the comforting tone of a mother. "We're here to help you."

"You can’t help me. You’re going to do to me what the others did to my parents. Stay away from me!” 

It’s been some time since Mulder has had to negotiate when a gun in being held just a few feet from his face. He’s never had to with a scared child. His scared child. “We understand what you’ve been through, William, we just want to help.” He can't begin to fathom what has happened to cause this. “My partner is a medical doctor. If they’ve done something to you, she will know what to do.” 

The gun is wagging around violently. They can see how hard their son is shaking. One wrong move could end this all fatally. Mulder steps forward slowly, hands still up.  “It’s okay,” he says, barely above a whisper. “You can trust us.” He takes another forward step, places his hand on a thin wrist. “I can take it.”

The boy nods. His fingers loosen, letting the gun drop into Mulder’s hand. He closes his eyes, tears slipping down his cheeks. “Hey,” Mulder says. “None of that.” William’s eyes fly open, there’s a flash of what looks like confused recognition in his eyes. 

Scully lowers her hands. Mulder watches her expression of wonder as she walks toward him. He’s so tall, her arm almost has to stretch when she brings her hand up to his cheek. This is their first contact in years. She knows he needs it, and she takes that leap of faith that he will not reject her. Whether he knows her or not, he leans into her touch.

[madamhatter]

Ibara/Sophie...or for the sake of cursed: Che'nya/Sophie?

Send me a ship and I’ll tell you... | accepting

hateship, hateship, hateship

Who asks the other on dates: 

Ibara Saegusa has not left Sophie alone about going out and declaring himself as her partner for the longest time. All of these are empty promises to a game that he loves to play and wants to win, just to see the stalwart seamstress crumble in some shape or form. She has the gull to refute or turn her cheek at him as if he wasn’t having an effect on her -- which shortly feeds his damn antics to continue his pursuit of getting what he wants. 

From handing her tickets that Eden and Adam fans akin would draw blood for to personal appointments in his office, Ibara doesn’t give Sophie a break. It isn’t like she rejects all of them, usually stuck in social pressure if he does it in front of others that are either: mutual business partners or her business associates. Sometimes, though she doesn’t admit it, she may attend an outing of her own interest, just to see how he’d react. 

Though, Sophie has given him propositions in turn to see how he’d react too. She knows he’ll accept and he does, so she’s kind of a dumbass who is surprised by his response. Most of these are usually in regards to her position as a CEO, where she gets the unfortunate invitation to social events that would be populated with media. To her, it would make sense that he’d go, if not purely for the publicity and new access to people to exploit/trick. But, she doesn’t like to admit she just wants to be near someone she’s comfortable with.

Who is the bigger cuddler:

How the hell does Sophie get near him while resisting the urge to strangle him? There’s already hot-blooded hostility between the two of them -- be it because their relationship is tethered between professionalism and “resentment.” Yes, that word needs quotation marks because they’re idiots.

Ibara is more than willing to pull any stunt to get under her skin. Though, it’s usually with physical touch with her that varies tremendously and makes him feel different. He doesn’t admit it, but hey, he’s used to keep it inside.

In spite of this, they do actually settle sometimes when they’re both working together. In the case they both crash in the same couch, it’ll be Sophie who cuddles. It has once or twice because the moment Ibara wakes up and breathes, she immediately opens her eyes, and it’s a long stare. It’s the few times Ibara can get her embarrassed as he laughs -- out right terrified by what he’s feeling -- and she reproaches and tells him bluntly “Shut up!” and murmurs something about not being able to be “arsed about it.” 

Who initiates holding hands more often:

Two touched starved idiots walk beside another and their hands brush against another, what would they do? Ibara is more than happy to watch Sophie recoil, as he reasons he’s far too amused by her antics and stubbornness in whatever she does. Sophie darts her hand away the moment she feels his finger, body overcome with a cold sweat and her instinct kicking in faster than her reason. There are certain things that she refuses to ‘play’ around with, especially in public and what their images are. Getting affectionate in such a public area is beyond inexcusable, even if it’s with people that they know. 

There are moments when the hand-holding can be genuine and intimate between the two of them. But, they would usually look dumbfounded at another. So, they do reach out sometimes, if not to get rid of something egging on their mind. 

Sophie’s look is more suspicious, with her brows pinched and eyes narrowed. It’s a face she only makes when her truly colder, ruthless side emerges and it’s not one anyone should deal with. It is a reality of how much emotion she tries in her everyday interactions not to look emotionless. 

Ibara’s look is one that is equally uncharacteristic for the young man. Brows rising, body frozen, and hand shaking, these are the signals that could indicate to anyone that he is stunted by the turn of events and is unsure of how to process it. It’s a rarity that he, one who plans for everything and pulls the strings, finds himself unable to control this situation. 

Who remembers anniversaries:

Always punctual, both of them will never really break a sweat or ever really forget dates--. A lot of their current lives revolve around schedules and planning months in advance, so I highly doubt that. Though, that is them when they’re actually dating.

Ibara’s the little shit who proposes they have an anniversary date long before they’re even dating to annoy Sophie. The date he chosen out will be decked out with surprises with gifts and a date that leaves the seamstress overwhelmed and wanting to kill him. 

Who is more possessive:

The bastard we know as Ibara is definitely someone who’d be quite ‘in-the-know’ when it comes to who is interacting with Sophie and what kind of things they’re doing. He’s not stupid, he’s the same type of person who’ll exploit people in whichever way he sees fit and would have some concerns about Sophie falling for the same tricks. 

Ibara’s possessiveness comes from a craving for power. He isn’t above actually going into legally questionable tactics to make sure that people know that Sophie is his partner. Maybe he can’t be outspoken about it, as he is an idol, but he probably has several tricks up his sleeve to keep people far from interested in her. 

Who gets more jealous:

Not a doubt that Sophie is one who gets easily jealous and Ibara eats it up and pokes the beast that way she can even get more jealous. She is very straightforward when she tells someone she doesn’t like them (especially if they’re trying something with Ibara) and she will get haughty about it if Ibara teases her about it. 

These are those moments that Ibara can see better what gets at Sophie. It’s an overwhelming concentration of self-doubt and cynicism that she isn’t going to wanted for long and she should get used to it. I think there are points that he wouldn’t keep it up the more he witnesses how much Sophie will drag herself through the mud over it. 

But, he still isn’t above teasing her about it (when it doesn’t get that bad). He looks at her, smirks, and inquires if meet-and-greets really get to her when she has the privilege of being around him for free. And that’s how Ibara gets shut out from their bedroom for the night. 

Who is more protective:

Both. Ibara will not hesitate to use his combat training to put someone in place and he wouldn’t even break a sweat over it -- or even show any sign that he was going to pull it. Sophie, meanwhile, is one that will defend him on the parts that matter because she acknowledges that Ibara can be VERY slimey.

Who is more likely to cheat:

Neither. Can’t see it in character for them to do it, either way.  

Who initiates sexy times the most:

Oh my god. Sophie is definitely the one who takes on the initiative and has the tables turned on Ibara after all these years of messing with her before their feelings for another cemented. Ibara is one that wants to be in control and has a lot of himself repressed about what he wants to do during sex-- So, it’s going to be interesting for them to see how that plays out. All I know is Sophie can’t beat a trained soldier, but she sure as hell is dumb enough to go ‘oh? you want to top? earn it.’ and literally all Sophie can do is initiate it because she just bottoms.. 

Who dislikes PDA the most:

IBARA IS ALLERGIC TO TOUCH. Nah, he’s got a rough past when it comes to physical assault and isn’t exactly keen on being touch or he tenses up. Affection is strictly not going to happen while they’re in public because, even if Ibara just loves embarrassing her, he really isn’t going to compromise his image. PDA already not going to happen, but he’s definitely apprehensive to keep to himself, despite how much he really does want to be touched.

Sophie is a league below Ibara but they share the same sentiment of not really liking PDA and having similar reactions to being touched suddenly. Though, she does find substitutes like leaning close against him and linking arms with him -- making it look more professional and not as intimate as hand-holding. 

Who kills the spider:

Ibara goes for the kill but Sophie tells him no because it means there’ll be less bugs like ants and flies.. Sophie reasons that Ibara shouldn’t get jealous that there’s another ‘little predator’ and Ibara just stares at her because she’s really going down that path and she’s going to regret it. 

Who asks the other to marry them:

Ibara says they’re already dating jokingly and probably has mentioned they’re married jokingly if he sees that as the better response to use. However, the point in which one of those two things become true is when Ibara doesn’t even want the other being a reality. He’s pretty closed off himself and if he’s now in a commuted relationship with Sophie, which he really hasn’t really been in one, it’s him walking in blindly. as well, idols dating, no less marrying, is a big nono. 

But, I would think Ibara would want to propose when they’re dating to see her reaction (or he now realizes how much more annoyed/flustered she gets when he can suggest she is his fiance). He wouldn’t do the whole shebang to get on one knee -- this is more about if other people are in conversation (or know Sophie), he’ll drop that fact to see how they’ll respond and it grows and grows from there until it reaches Sophie and she’s like ‘aw FUCK that isn’t true.’ 

But seriously? It’s Ibara. He’ll need to make the call because Sophie definitely wants to propose but understands his situation and doesn’t even DARE want to push him into anything. 

Who buys the other flowers or gifts:

IBARA DOESN’T STOP BUYING THINGS AND SOPHIE HATES IT. He’s quite frugal in how he spends his money and definitely has developed a budget in ‘how to embarrass Sophie even when I’m not there.��� He has had things delivered to her home office in England when she’s not visiting and also things delivered to her apartment when she visits. 

It is literally the worst thing and Sophie hates it because it’s all ‘anonymous.’ Back home, she is more resistant to make a emotive response, but her sisters see it when she comes back home and they literally devour her with questions and accusations that her and Ibara are serious. Think of large bouquets and ‘sing-o-grams’ because Ibara found it and went ‘ah, something to impede her :).’ In Japan, she fucking knows who left the snake plushie on her bed in her apartment and she’s going to kill the man for breaking into her place again. 

Sophie’s much more subtle in how she bothers Ibara, but she usually makes her own things for him. He doesn’t get embarrassed by it and Sophie just sucks thinking this through when her pride blinds her. 

Who would bring up possibly having kids:

Sophie is very much the one that would bring up kids frequently once there is some steam in their relationship that goes beyond their ‘we’re too stubborn to admit attraction’ phase.  As Ibara is very much an active idol, having a relationship is usually a big ‘no-no’ (but this depends on the agency/contract too) and he isn’t as well fond of the idea of having kids too. It’s more nervousness about what comes with having kids and what he can provide as someone who didn’t have his parents. 

Though, it’ll happen more frequently as they get older and they’re active with another. It might end up being that she asks him ‘seriously’ about it. He asks why the change and she’s giving a nervous smile like ‘About that..’ and that’s when Ibara becomes a dad.

Who is more nervous to meet the parents:

Ibara laughs bitterly in the background about how his parents are most certainly alive and not at all involve in his life. Sophie twiddles her fingers over her canonically dead biological parents and the only surviving guardian she has taking complete advantage of her.

Neither of them are worried about meeting the other’s parents in this context. It’s already much that Ibara met Sophie’s sisters without her prompting it-- more so, it was accidental. Sophie’s usually waaaay too protective about her private life and never introduces people to her sisters unless it’s been a long while (ie: Anzu is probably the only one properly introduced).

Anyways! There isn’t much to be worried about in Ibara’s case too as he can easily get along with Fanny (stepmother to Sophie) and charm her.

Who sleeps on the couch when the other is angry:

Ibara is sentenced to the couch for bastard and horny crimes. Sophie refuses to share the same bed as him (when they’re older) and is indignant for whatever stunt he pulled this time. It is wise to avoid the fury behind Sophie’s cold glare when he oversteps his boundaries and violates certain comforts that she has.

Who tries to make up first after arguments:

Stubborn hatter and idol stuck in their work, refusing to admit the wrongs they’ve done and are preferring to avoid these weird negative emotions building up in them after the fight. It is usually a big storm that goes, but there’s plenty of rain left afterwards that needs to go. It isn’t really easy for them to really get close and act normal after certain fights and they definitely need their breathing space. Their relationship isn’t the healthiest and they both recognize that.

Sophie, though, would be the one to fess up and go into his office to make amends after that. She’s the one to be quiet about it, though. Her arms wrapped around his neck from behind and her face buried into his hair, while he’s busy typing away, somewhat ignoring her. It’s several minutes after that he acknowledges her and pats her head, telling her that they can talk about it after he’s done. 

Who tells the other they love them more often:

Sophie can directly tell Ibara that she loves him much more easier than he can ever say to her. It was a lot more common in her childhood that she reinforced that love for her sisters when she didn’t really receive it from her guardians. She ensured it was a staple in her sisters’ lives and she sure as hell going to remind Ibara anytime she’s able to tell him.

Ibara is much more resistant to saying at all, even with their relationship developed. It is such a foreign phrase and never used in his life that he’s almost allergic to hearing it. Not even his own unit mates can tell him that or make any reference of that to him. Though, as he gets older, he does reciprocate fondly and admits he loves her too -- or even teases her and goes ‘it’s about time you admitted it’ even if they’ve been together for like 2+ years.