#i guess its not a terrible score but he was like ‘no visible changes’ but I DID

[aahsoka]

felt good about my drawings but nope my teachers grading scale always makes me feel not good lmfao

[maddieinwonder]

The Seventh

Slight Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None at all

Word Count: 1.6k

Plot: Reader hears a lot of rumours about the BAU before she applies to join the team. (Part 2 here!)

Author's Note: I love the idea of the BAU being notorious in the FBI, because honestly, they totally would be! And I would be lying if I said I've never crushed hard irl on a mysterious genius boy...

Masterlist

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Before you decided to join the BAU, you had heard all kinds of gossip about its members. It was a hot topic among your colleagues, but you could hardly blame them for the shameless act, when you left one ear open for it yourself.

Professionally, if they weren't called the BAU, people called them the "serial killer guys", since they couldn't seem to escape them in their cases. But among your lunch group, they were called "The Seven".

It was an embarrassing name in your opinion, too easily implying that the BAU was elite, untouchable. But the more you learned about them, the more you thought there could some truth to it.

Number One was SSA Hotchner, the unit chief known for his stone cold attitude. You heard a rumour that he once threatened the BAU section chief without so much as batting an eye. Anybody else would have been fired on the spot, but it seemed that Hotchner was so unrivalled in his job that he was asked to stay anyway.

Hotchner's opposite was SSA Rossi, who seemed to be the more "human" of the two, but that didn't make him any less intimidating. He was famous both in and out of the FBI, having built the BAU from the ground up, and written multiple best-selling books about criminal analysis. Why he decided to return to the BAU was a mystery to everyone, but you had a feeling he actually missed it.

Then there was SSA Prentiss. Everyone's consensus was that she seemed nice, but ultimately professional. People theorised that her political upbringing made her into a politician herself, but you once saw her in the BAU office laughing so hard that tears started rolling down her cheeks, and that's when you decided she couldn't be as stiff as the rest made her out to be.

SSA Morgan was the one everybody liked, on a shallow level at least. All your fingers and toes weren't enough to count how many people you knew had a crush on him. You've seen grown women visibly swoon when he walked by, which was partially hilarious for you, but also partially embarrassing for womenkind. You could see the appeal, somewhat, but he wasn't your speed.

Your favourite was JJ. Jennifer Jareau was the BAU's communications liaison and the only one you'd dare call a friend. You'd worked with her on multiple cases in the past, and in fact, she was the one who recommended you for the new position. She's a complete sweetheart, but you also knew that she once headshot an unsub right in the BAU office to protect Penelope. That fact only increased your admiration for her.

She was also the one to introduce you to the BAU's infamous technical analyst. You had heard of Penelope Garcia prior to that, but she so rarely emerged from her office that you almost thought she was a myth. The real person was unlike an FBI agent at all, always donning some combination of bright colours, feathers, and/or sparkles. Most people who'd seen her labelled her as a weirdo, but there was something about her, a sense of positivity, that you loved.

Last but not least, the one that slipped under everyone's radar, Dr. Spencer Reid. People didn't talk much about Dr. Reid because, well, there was nothing really to talk about. He was the youngest person to ever join the FBI, had an IQ of 187, and you thought he was far too pretty to be doing a job this terrible, but that's where the conversations usually ended.

Everything that could be said, envied, or admired about the genius had simply been covered already, and he offered no new fodder for the gossip trolls to chew on; he rarely left the office, he didn't mingle with the other departments, and frankly, everyone thought he was socially awkward.

Yet, you found yourself continuously coming back to him in your thoughts. Maybe, subconsciously, you wanted to join the BAU so that you could figure him out.

The first time you met Dr. Reid, he was giving the profile of an unsub to the larger team. His words sped by so quickly, yet with so much insight and detail that you found yourself scrunching your face in concentration in order to get it all, and that impressed you.

You had always been a quick study but you instantly knew that Dr. Reid would be a challenge, both professionally and personally, and you hadn't even got to know him yet.

As you submitted the request to join the BAU, you admit that the excitement of that challenge was at the forefront of your mind. And when you were called into SSA Hotchner's office a few months later, the thought rang in your head even louder.

"Agent Hotchner, you called for me?" You asked at his door, suddenly feeling timid in the face of your potential boss.

"Sit down, agent," he said without looking up. As you took a seat, he opened a file that was undoubtedly yours and looked up. His eyebrows were furrowed, but if what you'd heard about him was true, this didn't necessarily mean anything bad. And you were right.

"I have your test results with me," he began. "Firstly, I'd like to congratulate you for scoring the highest in your class." You swore he almost cracked a smile.

"I've also heard a lot about you. Your boss had many good things to say about your work ethic, your field experience, and your commitment to justice," he continued.

Now it was your turn to smile.

"But I want to know the real reason why you want to join the BAU." Your smile faltered slightly, something that you're sure Hotchner would pick up on.

He leaned forward in his desk, purposefully applying pressure on the situation, and you let out a quiet breath in preparation.

"The reason I wanted to join the BAU may not be new to you, but I'm looking for a challenge. I want to make a change." You started. "I understand that those two may be contradictory principles, but I believe I can grow and do a lot of good with the BAU."

"And what if the job gets too much for you?" He asks, a flicker of emotion that I didn't recognise crossing his face.

"I'm prepared for that," you said determinedly. "I may not know what this job will take from me, but I'd like the opportunity to prove that I can grow from it, sir."

Agent Hotchner eyed you for a moment before standing up. "Very well, then." He reached out his hand. "Welcome to the BAU."

You looked at his hand for a second, the shock barely registering, before scrambling to your feet. "Thank you, sir! I won't disappoint you!" You shake his hand grinning.

"And next time, just call me Hotch." He said, this time smiling amusedly at your enthusiasm.

"Got it, and thank you again, sir." You said, excusing yourself from his room with a noticeable skip in your step.

You tried to cool yourself off walking back to your department to share the good news, but the excitement proved too much to hold in when a familiar voice calls out to you.

"Hey babygirl, considering you just came out of Hotch's office with a smile, I'm guessing you're going to be our newest teammate."

You turned around, trying to swallow your giddiness, when you realised that person was none other than SSA Morgan.

"Agent Morgan," you stuck out your hand in greeting. "Nice to meet you, and yes, I am."

"Derek." He corrected, grinning as he shook your hand. "Looking forward to working closely with you."

"Just call him Morgan. Don't need to get too close to this player." SSA Prentiss nudged Derek out of the way, raising her hand to meet yours. "I'm Emily Prentiss."

You giggled at their closeness.

The rest of the introductions quickly followed, including hugs from JJ and Penelope, and a starstruck moment when Rossi left his office to personally welcome you to the team. But there was one person whom you hadn't formally met yet.

Dr. Reid had finally separated his head from his work amidst the commotion (plus a very strong encouragement from one Mr. Derek Morgan to "go get her, pretty boy") and walked up to you, a nervous gait in his step.

He stuck his hand out to your surprise, having heard that the doctor was a tad germaphobic, and shook yours. "Dr. Spencer Reid," he said. "But you can call me Spencer, everyone else does."

"Nice to meet you, Spencer." You tried out the foreign name on your tongue. "Honestly, I'm quite a fan of your academic papers. I'm looking forward to working with you."

You knew the genius was a bit awkward, but he instantly turned beet red at your words and retracted his hand. The thought that this was the first time somebody had complimented him this way made you a little sad. But you thought his reaction was incredibly cute, and apparently so did the rest.

"Pretty boy, pret-ty boy, is that how you should react around a lady?" Derek sing-songed, putting his arm around the poor genius' shoulders, tugging him down.

JJ shot you an apologetic look for her childish teammates, while the rest joined in to poke fun at Spencer. Although he was frowning, his voice betrayed no hints of annoyance. Clearly they were all very close.

You laughed along, feeling a growing warmth in your chest, and wondered if you'd be a part of this family in the future.

But first, you’d have to get used to being the Eighth.

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

(Part 2 here!)

[srhlsx]

Miya Atsumu x Reader

Fake Dating request from the lovely @oikawannabeyourbabie

⬦Three Months Before⬦

Trudging up the steps to the floor you lived on, you let out a dramatic sigh as your feet dragged and made loud, stomping sounds. You were thankful that your door was right at the top of the steps so all you had to do was fish around in your bag for the keys. Grumbling to yourself, you tiredly let your head fall forward and make a soft thump against your door as you continued to search through your bag.

You didn’t think much about the sound of a door somewhere in your hall opening until a familiar voice quipped up. “Give it a score.”

You smirked at your door before rolling your head to the side and looking at your neighbor. He leaned cooly against the entrance to his own apartment, arms crossed over his toned chest and hair falling in messy waves over his forehead. As you finally found your keys and pulled them out of your purse, you mulled over your answer with a thoughtful expression on your face. “Hmm,” You started, chewing at your lip lightly. “Like a… three?”

“Out of ten?” He laughed, eyes going wide as he nearly fell over in disbelief. “That’s gotta be a new low.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” You laughed. “I almost gave that guy last week a three, he barely scraped by.”

“Fair enough,” Your neighbor also laughed. “Should I grab the wine?”

“I think whisky would be appropriate tonight,” You made a dramatic face as you opened your door and slipped inside your apartment. You heard your neighbor’s laughing oh ho ho before shutting the door behind you, being sure to leave it unlocked so he could join in a few minutes.

After changing into a pair of leggings and an old cutoff college shirt, you made your way back out to your kitchen to find your neighbor already standing at the counter, two glasses in front of him. After locking his phone that he had been scrolling through, he pushed one of the glasses forward towards you with one finger. You noticed he had prepared it the way you liked, a couple of ice cubes floating around in the amber liquid - his own was just neat and it made you gag a little.

“I don’t know how you can drink it warm ‘Tsumu,” After cheersing your glasses together, you crinkled your nose a bit at the first sip you took, then pulling yourself up onto one of the bar stools across the counter from where Atsumu was leaning. 

“That’s cause I’ve lost all sense of feelings,” He said with a quirk of his eyebrow, also taking a sip but making no face whatsoever. He set his glass down and leaned forward on both hands, looking at you with a studying gaze. “Tell me all about it.”

You grimaced. Making a few faces as you thought about what to say, you started to speak a few times but cut yourself off as you wanted to really get your point across. “He… I-... ugh…” Atsumu looked like he was trying to hold back a laugh as you gathered yourself together. “He chewed with his mouth open.” You finally let out.

Atsumu’s dark eyebrows disappeared behind the fringe over his forehead, a look of disbelief forming on his face at the excuse you gave. “That’s all it took for you to give the guy a three?” He asked. “Two weeks ago a guy asked, no, told you to pay and you still gave him a five.”

“Okay, okay,” You laid your hands out on the counter palm up as you leaned back a little. “He chewed with his mouth open and… he was wildly racist.”

Atsumu burst out laughing at that, not expecting such a dramatic turn of events. You waited patiently with your lips pursed and eyes wide, also trying not to laugh, as Atsumu calmed down with heaving breaths. “Wow, okay, wasn’t expectin’ that.”

“I know, I wasn’t either. Things were actually going well, then they brought out the appetizer and bam!” You clapped your hands together. “I lied and said I had food poisoning.”

Atsumu took another sip of his drink, a lazy smirk finding its way onto his face as he looked at you. “Why do you keep goin’ on these dates?” He asked, wiping at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand as he reached to pour both of you another few fingers of whisky. “Not one has gone well.”

“I don’t know,” You groaned, slumping forward to rest your chin on the cool granite of your kitchen, huffing out a dramatic sigh as you swirled the ice around in your glass. “I mean, I guess I feel bad just saying no since my mom sets them up and everything.”

“But does she even know how terrible all the guys are?”

“Of course she doesn’t,” You said. “She gets numbers from her friends and then tells them where to meet me and when.”

“So these guys could literally be serial killers,” He chuckled. “Or in tonight’s case, closet racists.”

“As long as there is a chance that I could find love and pop out a few grandbabies for her, I don’t think she’d mind.” You laughed, although a little bitterly. It was getting a little old being constantly set up on these blind dates by your mother, but you knew in your heart she meant well. “She just worries I'm lonely. Besides, she’d be horrified if I was the only cousin without a significant other at my sister’s wedding so I kind of need a date for that.”

⬦ One Week Before ⬦

It was pretty early in the morning but as always, you had left your packing to be done until the last minute so before you were set to leave you were shoving random pieces of clothing into your suitcase without much order. Leaving the next day you would be heading to your sister’s wedding... solo. All the blind dates over the past few months had turned out worse than the previous one, but at least you got a few laughs out of them with your neighbor when you got home.

As you thought back on a few of the funnier moments, you heard a distant thumping sound coming from next door. You didn’t think too much of it, Atsumu wasn’t the celibate type, so it came as no surprise that he might be having a girl over on this weekend morning.

Your eyes widened a bit as the thumping continued, shaking your head with a small laugh. “Good God, ‘Tsumu.”

“You rang?”

You let out a loud scream at the voice that had surprised you from behind. Turning around with a pair of shorts clutched to your chest, your eyes landed on Atsumu’s figure casually leaning against the doorframe of your bedroom. “What the-” You gasped. “How did you-”

“The balcony,” He shrugged, hiking a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of your main living space. Leaning forward suspiciously, you narrowed your eyes to peek past him and see that the door to your balcony was indeed open and that was where he came from. “You should keep that thing locked.”

“We’re on the fourth floor, why would I need to do that?” You gave him an extremely confused look, still wrapping your head around the fact that he was in your room and the thumping noises were still echoing from next door. You glanced between him and the wall that separated your homes, lips pursed together and eyes still narrowed.

“Ah,” He laughed, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck. “Mind if I hide here… for a while.”

Your eyebrows lifted in amusement and your lips turned upward in a disbelieving smile. “Miya Atsumu, what have you done?”

“Nothing!” He waved his hands around and took a few steps into your bedroom to dramatically plop himself down across your bed. “I just, y’know… didn’t call her back.”

You smirked knowingly at your neighbor, getting the idea that it was a little bit more than just not calling a girl back but willing to humor him and not ask for more details. 

The thumping, you found out, was a girl Atsumu had previously had a rather interesting date with about a week ago pounding on his door. You laughed as you vividly remembered needing to sleep on your couch to get away from the screeching sounds that had come from his apartment that night. You had been getting ready for a run the next morning and saw her leaving the apartment, thinking that she was really pretty, but Atsumu explained to you that under her beautiful exterior was a level of crazy that even he couldn’t handle.

You both held your breath as the pounding next door seemed to stop, looking at Atsumu you shrugged your shoulders and watched as he visibly seemed to relax.

Until the pounding started on your door.

“Shit,” He cursed under his breath.

“Did she see you?” You asked, eyes going wide as you leaned back to look down the hall at your front door.

“There’s no way,” Atsumu groaned, his eyes also going wide in fear as he seemed to shrink into your bed a little further. He turned to you, “Please help me.”

You rolled your eyes and sent him a glare, not really wishing to get tied up in his affairs, but setting down the clothes you had been packing anyways and trudging down the hall towards your door. The pounding was incessant, rattling the door in it’s hinges with how aggressive the girl was being. With a dramatic flourish, you opened the door and looked at the girl standing on your doormat.

“Hello?” Your greeting came out as more of a question. You made a point not to open the door too much, fearing that Atsumu wouldn’t be able to keep himself hidden.

“Oh, hi!” The girl greeted you, a bright smile on her face as if she hadn’t just been trying to break down both your’s and your neighbor’s doors. “We met last week?”

You hummed an affirmative, sending her a sweet smile. You could tell she was trying to get a peek into your apartment, glancing over your shoulder as she tried to be subtle about reaching up on the tips of her toes. You made a point to lean against the doorframe and hug the door closer to your side to limit her version inside your home.

“Um, I was just wondering if you knew where Osamu was?”

You almost choked on your breath at the name. “I’m sorry, who?”

“Osamu? Your neighbor?” She pointed at Atsumu’s door while giving you a puzzled look. 

“Right, Osamu.” You said the name a little louder, hoping for Atsumu to hear you back in the bedroom. “Yeah, no, I haven’t seen him.”

“Are you sure?” She asked. “He said he'd call me and it’s been a few days so I was kind of worried.”

“So you showed up here? At his apartment?” You questioned.

“Well yeah,” She said, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. “What’s he going to do? Tell me to leave?” 

“Oof, yikes.” You said, trying really hard to hold back your uncomfortable laugh. Atsumu had been right about the crazy on this one. On a whim, you came up with an excuse. “You know what, he did mention something to me about getting out of town for a week or so?”

The girl’s eyes flashed at the thought that you might know where her estranged fling was. She nodded along as you continued to talk, even going so far as to take out her phone and pull up a new note to type on.

“Yeah, something about needing to get away from something? Or someone? I don’t know, he was kind of tweeking that night.” You shrugged a shoulder and waved a hand in front of you dismissively. 

“T-tweeking?” She repeated, pausing on her phone to look at you.

“Mhmm, it’s kind of a problem.” You nodded with a sigh, giving the girl a what-can-ya-do? look. “Anyways, I’m sure he’ll call, he usually shows up after a few days like this. I’ll let him know you stopped by!”

Without another word you shut your door in the confused girl's face, sliding the chain lock in place before turning around to see Atsumu peeking out from around the corner. “You owe me,” You whispered as you passed by him, jabbing a finger at his chest.

“Hardly, you told the girl I was a drug addict.” He whined as he followed you back to your bedroom. 

You laughed at his troubled expression. “I can't believe you said your name was Osamu.”

“Oh please, as if you haven’t given a fake name before.”

“I have, definitely,” You nodded. “But not my sibling’s name, and certainly not my twin’s name.”

He groaned and flopped back onto your bed, landing on the clothes you had previously been folding to pack away. “Now I have to disappear for a week, what if she comes back?”

“That’s not my problem, ‘Tsumu.” You told him, tugging at the sweater he was laying on to get him to move.

Atsumu rolled over and gave you a mock glare. “It most definitely is yer fault,” You could tell he was getting a little worked up by the way his accent was coming through more. He sat up in your bed, watching as you ignored his frustration until he seemed to come up with an idea. “Let me come to the wedding.”

“What?” You paused, hands hovering over your suitcase.

“Win-win,” He nodded enthusiastically. “I get away, you get a date.”

“Playboy Atsumu wants to play the role of loving boyfriend?” You laughed. “Nice try.”

“I can do it, may not seem like it but I can be pretty charming.” Atsumu stood up from his spot on the bed, brushing his chest against yours and raising a hand to gently cup your chin between his fingers as if to prove his point. “I’ll be good, promise.”

You laughed, pushing his hand away. “My family is… a little rough around the edges.”

“I can do rough,” He smirked, making you roll your eyes at his suggestive gaze. 

“Fine,” You huffed, placing your hands on your hips and watching as Atsumu’s eyes lit up with excitement. “But you better get packing, we’re leaving tomorrow.”

⬦

Walking up the path to your parents front door, Atsumu had a duffel bag in one hand while the other carried both his suit and your dress in a nice garment bag over his shoulder. The train ride to the town where your parents lived was a few hours long and you had spent most of it filling Atsumu in on the ins and outs of your family. 

“Baba Mimi will probably get a little handsy with you,” You warned as you walked up the last few steps to the front door and knocked a few times. “Especially if she has had a few glasses of wine.”

“So you take after her?” Atsumu smirked down at you, making you blush ever so slightly.

“I have never-” You started to cry out but were interrupted by the opening of the front door and chorus of greetings meeting your ears.

“(Y/n) is here!” Your sister greeted you and Atsumu at the door, calling out to your family over her shoulder and the echoing of a group of cheers responded. After giving you a hug and pulling away, your sister finally turned to see Atsumu standing next to you and her eyes widened. “And she brought a man!”

A crashing sound could be heard from further in the house and suddenly the whirlwind that is the combination of your mother and grandmother came bounding around the corner. Completely ignoring you standing there, they immediately greeted Atsumu by pinching at his cheeks, tugging at his hair, and feeling up the muscles on his arms. You had to laugh at the overwhelmed look on his face as he was ushered away from you and into the house as the two women chattered happily over each other, firing question after question. 

You turned and slowly blinked at your sister, shaking your head as she shook her own. “(Y/n), I’m not kidding, they've been drinking since noon.”

You had to laugh, looping your arms together as the two of you walked into the house to join the rest of the family and save Atsumu from the craziness that was sure to happen. 

“Anyways, (Y/n),” She said as you two came to the kitchen to see Atsumu surrounded by even more family. “He’s fucking cute, what the hell?”

You laughed a little nervously as your sister nudged you a few times while checking out Atsumu. “Yeah, it just sort of happened.” You shrugged, trying to be as vague as possible.

“Isn’t he your neighbor? I always thought you guys were just friends.” She asked, remembering having met Atsumu once or twice while visiting you. “That’s pretty lucky if you ask me.”

Your sister was a smart cookie and you had to hope with your whole heart she wouldn’t see through the blatant lie you were going to try to pull off for the next week. “Mom, stop.” You called out after seeing her running her fingers drunkenly through Atsumu’s hair, inspecting the undercut and dyed color. 

Atsumu smiled and waved off your concern, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you came to stand next to him and push your mother away from harassing him even more. As you busied yourself with introducing Atsumu to the rest of the family that had gathered, you missed the way your sister studied you.

Her fiance sidled up next to her, also eyeing the two of you, but with  less suspicion. “I didn’t know (Y/n) was seeing anyone,” He mentioned, nodding his head. “He seems cool.”

“Yeah, I think it’s new.” You sister responded, eyes noticing the way Atsumu looked at you with an amount of adoration that went unnoticed by you. She also saw the way his look brightened at the sound of your laughter, how his hand gripped your shoulder a little tighter when you moved. 

She had been suspicious when you called late last night saying you were bringing a date to the wedding last minute. The two of you held no secrets from one another so it was a surprise that after all the horrid dates your mother had sent you on, you were suddenly going to bring a guy that you were apparently serious enough with to her wedding. She envisioned some random guy off the street who could barely make eye contact with anyone. She did not expect your handsome neighbor, who already fit in so well after meeting your family for ten minutes, and looked at you like you were the one to hang the moon.

⬦ The Day Before ⬦

The days you had spent at your parents house getting prepared for the wedding had been nothing short of chaotic. Between dealing with the florist, the caterers, your sister, and your mother you felt like you hadn’t done much breathing. Atsumu was a shining star playing the role of boyfriend, being neighbors and friends for the last year had made it surprisingly easy to fake a relationship in the eyes of your family.

He’d been by your side almost the entire week, except for when he was whisked away by the men in your family. Atsumu immediately made friends with your sister’s fiance, the two of them laughing and joking a lot of the time - usually at the expense of you and your sister.

The night of the rehearsal was no different.

Everyone was milling around your parents backyard after having run through the ceremony. A few fire pits had been lit and everyone stood around talking to one another and having a few drinks. Atsumu stood with a beer bottle casually hanging from his fingers as he talked about the latest news in the sports world with your father and soon to be brother in law. You hadn’t realized you’d been staring at him through the kitchen window, watching the way he laughed and smiled, until your sister waved a hand in front of your face to wake you out of the stupor. 

“Wake up,” She laughed. You shook your head a little and focused back on the food you were supposed to be plating after brushing off your sister’s teasing. 

Another moment passed and you looked back up to see that Atsumu was no longer talking to your dad and was instead in a conversation with one of the bridesmaids. He had a small smile on his face, nodding along politely as he took another sip from the beer in his hands. 

Atsumu made a comment that you couldn’t hear, but it must’ve been funny by the way the bridesmaid threw her head back with laughter and playfully placed a hand on Atsumu’s arm. Her body angled towards him flirtatiously as she continued her hold on him, and suddenly it was like you forgot how to blink. You just kept watching the interaction, feeling an odd sensation in the pit of your stomach.

“Chill out killer,” You sister said. You looked down to where you had been cutting up some vegetable to see that the pieces were much, much smaller than they needed to be and your hand was grasping the knife with a white knuckled intensity.

You cleared your throat before speaking, “Sorry.”

When you looked up again, Astumu and the girl were gone and a sudden feeling of dread pooled in your heart. In reality, you had no rightful claim over Atsumu. Sure, he was pretending to be your boyfriend for the week, but the two of you weren’t together in the slightest and if he wanted to go off and flirt with a pretty girl then he was allowed to do that. You didn’t even think of Atsumu in that light - he was a good friend and your neighbor, the person you joked around with and complained about terrible dates to. So why were you experiencing the burning feeling of jealousy start to build in your chest?

“Hey, need any help?” You turned around at the sound of his voice to see Atsumu setting his drink down and coming to stand behind you. He casually rested his hands on your hips and peeked over your shoulder to see what you were putting together. You felt yourself relax, only to come to a startling realization that the reason you had been so tense in the first place was because you thought Atsumu had gone off with another girl. What was wrong with you?

The rest of the night was spent with Atsumu by your side, catching up with other family, and the constant nagging in the back of your head over that brief moment of jealousy that had happened. Even as you were getting ready for bed, brushing through your hair absently, your mind wandered while you stood in the middle of your childhood bedroom.

A knock at your door broke your train of thought and you looked up to see Atsumu opening your door carefully. He smiled as he saw you standing in your pajamas, posters of boy bands and television shows hung up on the walls, thinking that he’d never seen something as cute until that very moment in his life.

“You better get back down to the couch before my dad catches you,” You joked as he shut the door behind him and moved to take a few steps into your room.

“Or what? He likes me too much,” He laughed. He glanced around your room, taking in all the parts that made up who you were when you were growing up.

“He’s not the only one,” You mumbled, moving to sit on your bed.

Atsumu heard you and turned around with a puzzled look. “What was that?” He asked.

You startled a little bit, not thinking you had spoken loud enough for him to hear. “N-nothing,” You said. When he kept looking at you with those brown eyes, you shrugged a shoulder casually to play off your comment. “You just looked kinda friendly with that bridesmaid tonight.”

“Oh ho,” He laughed, eyes lighting up brightly as he fully turned to face you. “What’s this?”

Your eyes widened, realizing you had said too much and couldn’t take it back now. You shook your head, holding out your hands to keep some distance as Atsumu walked up to you. “What are you talking about?”

“Was that jealousy I just heard?” He smirked, now standing at the edge of the bed and looking down at you.

“What would I possibly be jealous about?” You snapped, rolling your eyes at his clear display of cockiness.

Atsumu paused for a moment, studying the way you refused to look at him before he acted. “I don’t know,” He said and reached forward. Propping one knee up on your bed, Atsumu leaned over you and grabbed your chin in his fingers to force you to look at him.

His closeness surprised you and made the breath in your lungs catch slightly. You were clearly flustered as he leaned closer and closer until the two of you had fallen back onto your bed, one of his arms bracing his weight next to your head so he didn’t totally crush you. He smirked, looking at your face for anything that would tell him to stop, before leaning forward to press his lips against yours.

Your muffled squeak quickly turned into the softest moan Atsumu had ever heard as he eased his tongue past your lips to deepen the kiss. A moment later he was the one to pull away, to your disappointment, tracing a finger along the side of your face. Atsumu smiled down at you, not a smirk but a genuinely soft smile. “You have nothing to worry about,” He whispered.

You stayed sprawled out on your bed as he hoisted himself upright again and left your room, wishing you a soft goodnight before shutting your door behind him. Still a little flustered, you pressed your fingers to you lips, feeling where Atumu’s has been only moments before. If you weren’t confused before, you were certainly lost now. 

⬦ The Day Of ⬦

The morning of the wedding you woke up still in a daze and reeling from Atsumu kissing you. You weren’t a prude, you’d kissed and been with guys before, but it was the way in which he had kissed you - with such purpose behind it - that made it hard for you to snap out of your thoughts until you were being pulled in all directions. 

You had searched for Atsumu before breakfast, but when you went downstairs to check on him he was nowhere to be found. Puzzled, you stared at his neatly made makeshift bed on the couch with your arms crossed.

“Oh he’s with the rest of the boys getting breakfast!” Your mom appeared behind you, patting your shoulder as she bustled around the kitchen. “They all went out before heading next door to get ready.”

“Huh,” You huffed, turning to try and snag some of your own breakfast since you weren’t sure how much you’d get around to eating later in the day. You had underestimated Atsumu connecting with your family, but if your brother in law had invited him along you guessed that meant he was making a good impression - just like he had told you before kissing you last night. 

Hours later after being poked, prodded, twisted, and twirled all over you finally found a moment of peace. Your hair was styled in a semi-messy half ponytail, curls framing your face which had a light amount of makeup on it. As you rummaged around in the refrigerator, you were careful not to mess up anything that was already done for fear of the wrath your sister would bring down on you. 

You heard the door to the back yard open, the sound of the setup crew’s voices flowing into the kitchen before being silenced when the door shut again. Righting yourself you peeked over the open door, pausing with a piece of fruit halfway to your mouth when you saw who had entered. 

Atsumu stood before you in all his glory, navy suit pants and a nice white shirt tucked in. His top button was undone and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled half way up his forearms. He looked good, and if you had had any less sense you would’ve been a little more obvious in your starring. Instead you shook your head slightly and blinked hard before greeting him. “Hello Mister Popular,” You teased. 

His brown eyes widened when he saw it was you greeting him, then quickly his expression went back to the same aloof smugness it always held. He rubbed a hand at the back of his neck, smirking at you as he spoke. “Ah, what can I say? Families love me.”

You rolled your eyes at his confidence, moving out of his way as he went to reach into the refrigerator for a few bottles of water. “It’s going to suck to tell everyone when we break up,” You said, surrounding your words with air quotes and smiling softly at him. “They’ll be so sad.”

Atsumu studied you face for a moment before answering, “About that, what-“

“(Y/NNNN)!” 

The shrill voice of your sister yelling echoed throughout the house, making your eyes go wide with horror. Atsumu mirrored your gaze as you thrust the rest of your unfinished snack into his hands and bolted off in the direction of the stairs. Atsumu just watched after you, gazing at your retreating form clad in only one of those silky bridesmaids robes he’d seen on social media hundreds of times. Even after you had disappeared from his sight he still stood there, slightly disappointed, chewing at his cheek in a bad habit his brother always told him to stop doing. 

“Later,” Atsumu mumbled to himself before grabbing the water bottles and heading back over next door where the groom's party was waiting for him. “I’ll do it later.”

⬦

Atsumu loved weddings. Last year when Suna had gotten married and he got to be a part of the big day he had had so much fun and found himself a sucker for the amount of love being spread all around. Today had been no different.

Your family may have been a little wild at first, but as you walked down the aisle with the best man and the tears started to well in your eyes when your sister followed after, Atsumu felt a smile of his own tugging at the corners of his lip. You’d been so focused on not tripping over the horrid yellow fabric of the long dress you wore that you didn’t notice Atsumu in the crowd until your sister passed by him with your father and your eyes caught one another, he was sitting next to your grandma - her hands tightly clasping his arm.

You couldn’t help it. You smiled a bright, toothy grin, your eyes unknowingly lighting up at the sight of him. Atsumu felt his heart catch a little in his chest, the feeling of your grandmother giving his arm a quick squeeze before sitting down brought him out of the daze that was centered purely on your eyes. Had he ever noticed how bright they were before today?

Vows were exchanged, speeches were made, and the dancing had been going on for hours. You had laughed wildly as your dad swung you around the dance floor like you were a little kid again, your hair whipping around along with your dress. Every once in a while you’d catch Atsumu dancing as well, only in his arms was your young cousin who laughed brightly with her flushed cheeks as Atsumu swung her back and forth. It almost broke your heart how cute it was, seeing him so open and at ease with your family.

As an old slower song started through the speakers, your dad smiled over your shoulder when he saw who was trying to cut in on the dance. With a handshake, your dad passed you off to Atsumu who easily slipped one hand into yours and the other around your waist to pull you close.

“You look really beautiful,” Atsumu leaned close and spoke into your ear, tightening his grip around your waist to pull you a little closer. 

You had to laugh because you remember him specifically giving you a hard time months ago when your bridesmaid dress arrived, agreeing with you on how ugly it was. “Even in this disgusting thing?”

“Absolutely,” He grinned down at you.

The intensity of his gaze made you blush and you were thankful for the soft glow of the string lights above to prevent it from being too obvious. Scrunching up your nose, you smiled up at Atsumu. “Thank you,” You told him. “For everything. You really made this week a lot easier.”

“I enjoyed it, honestly.” You hadn’t realized that the two of you had stopped swaying back and forth, the music playing through the speakers long forgotten as you could only focus on the brown eyes boring down into you. 

You felt Atsumu drag your hand up to rest around his neck, then let go and brought his to tangle in your hair. You pulled you forward, meeting little resistance on your end, and pressed his lips to yours in a kiss not unlike the one you two shared the previous night. You were thankful for the grip he had around your waist as he tilted you back and you felt like your knees were about to give out. The way Atsumu kissed, it was no wonder all those girls went crazy wanting to come back for more.

He started again, “I-”

“Alright ladies! It’s time for the bouquet toss!”

The sudden sound of the DJ’s voice shocked you out of your moment and you broke apart from Atsumu. Looking around, couples started filtering off the dancefloor and it was becoming more and more crowded with the single women in attendance. 

Atsumu smiled down at you with a sigh, still holding onto your waist, his lips still so close you could feel them against yours as he spoke. “Meet me by the pond,” He whispered. 

Unable to really speak, you simply nodded as you got your footing back and stepped away from him. You pushed through the small crowd of excited girls that had gathered in front of your sister, giving her a short wave to let her know you were not participating and getting a wink from her in response. 

You’d gotten distracted by a few overserved relatives as you tried to navigate our way through the tables spread out in your parents backyard. Finally getting through, you slipped out of your shoes and quickened your pace through the small grove of trees that separated your parents property from the pond that lay beyond.

Sitting on a fallen tree trunk in all his cliche glory was Atsumu. When he saw you finally walk up to him, he bent over and grabbed a plastic cup filled with champagne. You thanked him and took a sip, sitting next to him on the rough surface of the tree. He was slightly hunched over, hands turning his own cup around and around as he smiled softly while deep in thought.

“I was thinkin’,” He started, lifting his head up to look out over the pond. The moon’s reflection rippled in the water, shining brightly. “‘Bout the whole dating thing.”

“You’ve been amazing,” You smiled. “Playing the part very-”

“What if we really did it?”

You nearly choked on your drink at his interruption. Your brows furrowed together as you looked at him with an amused and disbelieving smile. “Like, us?” You tried not to sound hopeful because in reality this week you had definitely formed some sort of romantic feelings towards your not-boyfriend, but still… him wanting to actually date? “Atsumu, you don’t do relationships.”

“I would with you,” He said, finally turning to look at you, still slightly slumped over with his elbows resting on his knees. The smile he flashed at you, the way his eyebrows rose on his forehead, all read that he too didn’t fully understand why he felt the way he was feeling - but Atsumu was never one to shy away from his emotions. “I’m sorry if it ruins things, but I like you (Y/n).”

“I like you, too.” You hadn’t even realized you were speaking the words until you saw Atsumu’s relieved expression. He laughed lightly, reaching over to rest a hand on your thigh with a gentle squeeze - the action, while simple and not suggestive in any way, made you break out in a giddy smile.

“It’s settled then,” He nodded, slinging back the rest of his drink with a dramatic flourish, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and tossing the plastic cup over his shoulder. You laughed as he leaned forward and captured your lips with his once again, both hands moving to cup your cheeks in a gentle but forceful grasp.

You’d worry about explaining the details to everyone some other time, if ever. For now, you were going to enjoy yourself, and drink up as much of Atsumu as you could in the glowing moonlight.

[nillegible]

[Deleted* Scene from Stay, the Meng Yao time travel fic. Because I decided that the trope is a little Too Much for this particular story, but I do like cheesy things, so here it is. (*as in, I dismissed the idea almost instantly, but it wanted to be written, so here it is)]

“Da-ge,” says Nie Huaisang and Nie Mingjue looks up. The words ‘why aren’t you at saber practice?’ die on his lips when he sees the expression on Nie Huaisang’s face.

“Huaisang, what happened?”

“Da-ge, I got a. Wangji-xiong wrote me a letter.”

Nie Mingjue tenses. Last he knew, Lan Wangji was collaborating with Wei Wuxian. “If he wishes you to experiment with demonic cultivation, the answer is no. You are forbidden from attempting any-”

“It’s not that! It’s Xichen-ge, he- He’s fine! Da-ge nothing happened to him!” the last part is nearly yelled out, and Nie Mingjue does not know what his face had done to prompt the quick assurance, but the sheer icy terror for that one moment, when he thought that Xichen had died has his heart clenching painfully still, even with Huaisang waving his hands apologetically.

He sits back down, heavily. “Just tell me what it is, Huaisang.” Anything would be better than learning that his best friend was dead, or injured.

“During a night hunt, they found the half-eaten remains of a rogue cultivator,” says Huaisang. Nie Mingjue doesn’t like how this is going. “Xichen-ge.. from the hair ornaments, and the handwriting on the talismans – there was not much else to identify him with – he thinks that the cultivator was Meng Yao.”

Oh.

“What could have…” he trails off. It does not matter what sort of monster had finally killed Meng Yao, not when Huaisang just shrugs, lips pressed together the way he does when he’s trying not to tear up. Meng Yao had been one of Huaisang’s dearest friends once.

Nie Mingjue holds his arms open, and his brother accepts the hug, throwing himself into his arms silently. He doesn’t say a single word, but the silent tears against his shoulder are accusing.

Why didn’t you check up on him?

Why didn’t you invite him to come back?

How could you let him die, all alone?

“Wangji says that Xichen-ge is taking it very hard. He asks if you would go to him,” says Huaisang, voice thick.

Nie Mingjue nods against his brother’s hair. He will go, and he will apologize to Lan Xichen for counseling him against accepting Meng Yao into his own clan, or claiming him as a sworn brother. Not because he thinks that it was the wrong decision, but if he takes responsibility then maybe Lan Xichen would feel less guilt.

“I will visit him,” he says.

“I want to come too,” says Huaisang.

“Huaisang?”

“I know you were angry with him, but he didn’t… I want to say goodbye. They’re holding a service for him.”

“He did terrible things,” Nie Mingjue says. This is not the first time his brother has pled Meng Yao’s case in his absence. The words feel off this time, knowing that he’s no longer speaking ill of a wandering cultivator and ex-Nie… but a dead man.

“And some really great things, too,” Huaisang says firmly. “I want to come with you.”

(Huaisang always gets what he wants.)

*

The memorial is held at the place where Meng Yao died. Someone – the Lan, most likely - have cleaned up, have brought flowers and lamps to light the way of a spirit that could have gotten lost in its final moments of distress.

Nie Mingjue can see remnants of the battle, anyway, in the felled trees, gouges in the wood of several others. A broken Lan arrow that was not retrieved, shining with its distinctive fletching from where it lies discarded on the ground.

While the elders set out a soul-calming array, others leave offering at a small memorial. Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang approach that small cluster of people, intending to leave their own offerings there, and to light some incense for Meng Yao.

When people make room for them to approach, Nie Mingjue finally sees the painting that forms the center of the memorial.

It is in Xichen’s hand, Meng Yao’s likeness brought perfectly to life, warm and smiling, cheek dimpling with mirth. Nie Mingjue’s hand shakes faintly as he forces himself to move. The bottles of expensive Nie perfume suddenly feel cold and impersonal, as he lays them down among the other offerings.

It has been… years, since Nie Mingjue remembered his ex-deputy this way. He’s been remembering him in Wen-flame robes or in Qin-sect blue, even though he knows that Meng Yao had been a spy, and then banished from Qin sect. He’s been remembering him with an unnaturally fixed smile and aged eyes that seem to pass over everything, like Meng Yao was no longer here.

What didn’t I see? he wonders, faced with Meng Yao as he had been. Before the war, before the Wens, before Langya.

The Meng Yao on this memorial is not the one who had died here, he’d died long before… but Nie Mingjue realizes he’d not cared to see it, at the time.

Nie Huaisang tugs his sleeve lightly, and Nie Mingjue allows himself to be led away. Of course. There are more people to leave offerings for Meng Yao. He watches politely as strangers leave offerings. A regretful looking Qin Cangye and his daughter, as well as several of their disciples light incense, and then form a small group of just themselves, at the edge of the gathering.

Apparently Nie Mingjue is not the only one who feels guilty, today.

The air of the congregation tenses when Jin Zixuan and Jin Zixun arrive to pay their respects, but for once the latter does not pick a fight, and Jin Zixuan is perfectly polite even though he’s visibly uncomfortable about being here. It was no secret that Jin Guangshan had resented his bastard turning his offer down.

(Why? Meng Yao, your ambition… why didn’t you join Jin sect? Nie Mingjue knew better than to believe that nonsense about feeling it disloyal to reject Sect Leader Qin’s generosity. But he had never challenged it, had never asked Meng Yao what changed. And now he’d never know.)

Once the crowding at the memorial thins out, Lan Xichen kneels before it, guqin out, and everyone falls silent as the haunting notes of Inquiry begin.

(Nie Mingjue recognizes one repeating series of notes, can hear every time that Lan Xichen plays Meng Yao, because Meng Yao had played it for him and Huaisang one evening, shortly before the battles turned for the worst. Back when they could afford an evening to themselves, to comfort Nie Huaisang before he had to be hidden away in the Cloud Recesses again, he’d shown them what Sect Leader Lan had taught him, while he was hiding him. “See? This is Meng Yao,” he’d said, and played it quickly, Meng Yao, Meng Yao, Meng Yao, Meng Yao, making Huaisang giggle, and try it out for himself, while Nie Mingjue watched in amusement.)

Every time that Xichen’s fingers still on the guqin, there’s only eerie silence, no spirit taking the chance to fill in, to answer Lan Xichen’s call. Nie Mingjue watches in silence until Lan Qiren sets a hand on Lan Xichen’s shoulder, bringing his music to an end.

“The Soul-Calming array is complete. If he does not wish to answer us, we should proceed,” he says. There’s something gentle in his usually stern voice, something edged with fear. Once this is over, Nie Mingjue has to find Lan Xichen. He must be taking it even worse than he appears, to frighten his uncle so.

He’s relieved when Lan Xichen looks up at them and rather than react with anger, joins them. He’s carefully sandwiched between Nie Mingjue on one side and a dutiful Wangji on the other, while the calming ritual is completed. For once, his face is as jade-like and expressionless as his brother’s beside him.

For Xichen’s sake, at least, Nie Mingjue mourns Meng Yao’s passing.

(He’s lying to himself. There’s just something about this, about knowing that Meng Yao, that bright workaholic with plans upon plans for every contingency, could be felled like this. Alone, and with no back up, that makes the whole world feel off-kilter.

The Nie die alone in the raging madness of qi-deviation, but even then they are not alone.

He’s never had backup, a voice like Huaisang’s chimes in his head. Da-ge, no one’s ever had his back. Not even you.)

*

He leaves Huaisang in the care of the other Nie disciples, and spends the night at Lan Xichen’s, letting him play piece after piece, and never pointing out that these are not cultivation scores but Gusu-Lan story songs. Nie Mingjue can guess why Lan Xichen is playing these today. Guess who heard them last, from Xichen’s clever fingers.

*

Lan Wangji is missing the next morning, and Nie Mingjue feels a stab of irritation that he would leave when Lan Xichen is so fragile. In his place, though, Nie Huaisang sticks to the Lan Sect Leader’s side, never allowing him a moment’s peace.

Xichen accepts the coddling with a faint smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, and by sneaking an extra sweet onto Nie Huaisang’s plate when they take tea, later.

Nie Mingjue’s tentative, “Can we talk, Xichen?” is met with a tired, “There’s nothing to say, Mingjue-xiong. Please. I cannot say it aloud again,” and Nie Mingjue doesn’t try again.

*

Three weeks later, an aide rushes into his office to tell him that Sect Leader Lan had arrived without warning. Worried, Nie Mingjue rushes to the entrance to meet him.

There’s pure unbridled joy on Lan Xichen’s face, but it’s the smaller figure at his side that stops Nie Mingjue in his place.

“Meng Yao?”

“I’m not dead, Sect Leader Nie,” he says, smiling.

“I am glad,” says Nie Mingjue, and it’s the absolute truth.

He ushers them into his office to speak in private, after sending an aide to fetch Huaisang, and hears a quiet, “Did Sect leader Nie always have dimples?” behind him, that makes Lan Xichen laugh out loud before he stifles it. Nie Mingjue throws them an injured look over his shoulder, but at the matching laughing grins that face him, he can’t help but smile, and turns away quickly so as not to give them proof.

*

It turns out that it was a case of mistaken identity. The man was a rogue cultivator, one that Meng Yao had traded talismans and a hair piece, for a small, deadly dagger that he now shows them.

“Imagine my surprise when I hear that I had died,” he laughs, but Nie Mingjue thinks there’s something weary within it.

“I am glad that Wangji and Wei Wuxian found you,” says Lan Xichen. Then, softer, gentler, “I’m glad they knew to look.”

Why didn’t you come to us? he means, though he does not say so outright. Why would you let us think you had died?

“I did not know you cared,” says Meng Yao, answering the unspoken questions. “I thought it would be easier to let you think me gone. That we would all get new beginnings.”

“Where would you have gone?” asks Nie Mingjue.

“Dongying,” says Meng Yao, eyes bright like it’s significant. Nie Mingjue doesn’t know why that makes Meng Yao laugh so hard, but it takes him a moment to compose himself.

“Meng Yao, Lan Xichen,” says Nie Mingjue before he can change his mind. “Would you be my sworn brothers?”

He gets two surprised looks, one more so than the other. “Sect Leader Nie,” he says. “Why? What do you want from me, that you’d? I don’t…”

“I don’t want you to go,” says Nie Mingjue honsetly. “You don’t have to do anything for us, but…” Don’t just vanish, for months at a time. It’s unsettling, when you’re missing. “Please stay,” he says.

Meng Yao turns to Lan Xichen, as if asking him to disagree. “I have already told you my mind on this, Meng Yao. In my mind, you were already my younger brother,” says Lan Xichen.

There’s a long silence, in which Meng Yao’s smile turns brittle again. He’s going to say no, thinks Nie Mingjue, and didn’t expect to feel as disappointed as he does at that.

“Okay,” says Meng Yao, smiling. “Okay, Da-ge, Er-ge. This time, I’ll stay.”

[satyr-syd]

Seconds after Sero stepped into the blazing heat of the summer sun, sweat already pooling at the base of his spine under his thin tank-top, it began to snow.

Chilly pin-pricks dotted the back of his back. A gust of wind manifested out of nowhere and whipped against his tragically exposed sides. He held out his hand and watched as tiny white specks melted on his sweaty palm. Sero looked up, but the sun still beat down, unhindered by a single wisp of cloud. Goosebumps pimpled down his arms.

Well this sucks.  

He was supposed to meet Todoroki in the quad five minutes ago for their daily study session (Sero had many charming qualities, and being fashionably late was one of them). Ever since their dorm’s AC had been tragically annihilated in an acid-related incident that Sero had absolutely no part in whatsoever, the quad was the best place to study. Outside, there was at least the suggestion of a breeze.

Okay, so it was a bit more than a suggestion now. More like a firm instruction, edging on harsh demand.

Sero rubbed his arms together, elbows tight against his poor exposed sides. Man oh man was he not a fan of winter. Winter meant trying to find the one jacket in the entire mall that suited his specific physique and hoping they still stocked it in his size. Where did the snow even come from? Why did it have to be now of all times? If he tried to make himself a jacket out of his tape would it actually work this time?

While Sero stood there freezing his ass off like an idiot instead of like, going back inside, a white-and-red head made its way through the quad to him.

read on ao3

fic art by @kim-namzoom!!!

“Hanta,” Todoroki greeted. His hair, grown lovingly past his shoulders in the spirit of spite (“My father despises it,” Todoroki had announced proudly after returning from winter break their second year), laid over his shoulder in a loose braid. Sero wondered who’d braided it for him. It looked nice.

By then, an icy sheen coated the ground and the wind blew loud enough to howl in his ear, and the nails on Sero’s fingers began to purple. “Dude, is this you?” Sero asked.

Todoroki shook his head. He stood close, nearly shoulder to shoulder. “I don’t know how to make snow.”

“Huh,” Sero said. “You should learn how. Then we could have snow cones like every day.”

Todoroki held out his hand - the right one - next to Sero’s.Whereas the snowflakes melted into watery mush in Sero’s palm after a few moments, they held their shape in Todoroki’s, forming a lacy layer of crystals over his slender fingers.

“Do you like snowcones?” Torodoki asked.

Sero shrugged. “Dunno, never had one.”

“Neither have I.”

Present Mic’s voice burst through the loudspeakers. “THERE HAS BEEN A QUIRK MISHAP! SORRY FOR THE UNFORESEEN WEATHER, KIDDOS! PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY BACK TO YOUR ROOMS WHILE WE FIGURE OUT WHAT’S HAPPENING.”

The few students still standing outside slowly filed indoors.

“Maybe one of the first years?” Sero asked.

“Probably,” Todoroki said. He held up his hand. “They’re the ones most lacking in control...and yet, overflowing with arrogance.”

“Wow, sounds like someone I knew in first year.”

Todoroki nodded sagely. “Bakugou was certainly a handful.”

“I know you know who I was talking about,” Sero said, poking his shoulder.

Todoroki smirked. It was just the slight quirk of his lips, barely visible unless you knew to look for it. Sero knew to look. He’s seen that smile a lot, these days. Which was great, because Todoroki had a wonderful smile, but also not great, because whenever he made Todoroki smile, his heart doki-doki ’d so hard that he was positive Todoroki could hear it.

See, asking Todoroki to tutor him had been a highly calculated move that had not one, but two purposes: first, Sero was, is, and (if we’re being honest) probably always will be a terrible student and if there was any chance of him getting decent grades his last year of high school, he needed a tutor. He could have asked the other top-scoring students, but Momo and Kendo were too busy (he wasn’t the only idiot scrambling for a passing grade), Bakugou was too explodey, Iida was too boring, and Midoriya was too muttery. Todoroki was none of those things and also the hottest of the bunch, which lead to purpose number two: as his tutor, he and Todoroki could spend more time alone together. Why? Because six months had passed since Sero admitted to himself that he was no better than every other girl in school and was totally crushing on the Icy-hot hero Shouto and now he’s tired of pining like some basic bitch.

“Let’s study in my room,” Todoroki said.

Sero had been to Torodoki’s room like, a ton of times, but his heart still skipped a beat every time Todoroki invited him. “Lead the way, sensei,” he said.

“I’m not your sensei.”

“Your teaching prowess says otherwise, sensei.”

“Call me sensei one more time and I’ll have Bakugou quiz you on polar coordinates.”

“Now that’s just cruel,” Sero said. He spun in front of Todoroki. “But I don’t think you have the heart to follow through on that - ” Sero tapped his nose to the beat of his killing blow “ -  sen-sei.”

Todoroki stared at him for a moment, pouting, cheeks pink from the cold. Then he pulled out his phone and began texting Bakugou.

“Noooooo shit I’m sorry I’ll stop! It was just a joke!”

This is it,  Sero told himself.  Snow storm wailing outside, holed up in Todoroki’s room, just the two of us - this is my moment.

Todoroki’s room hadn’t changed much since their first year. Decorative pot of bamboo in the corner (fake), tall, dark wooden drawers, a low desk free of clutter, tatami flooring, somehow. That ugly checkered mat by his desk. But where there once was one chair, now there were two. A pair of crocs (never worn) sat in front of his dresser. And on the dresser, crowding the decorative orb, half a dozen framed pictures: Todoroki, Midoriya, and Bakugou at the end of their internship with Endeavor; their class picture from last year; Natsuo and Fuyumi showering Todoroki in hugs; a selfie Sero took of him and Todoroki on their first day of their summer internship with Edgeshot.

There was also a behemoth purple beanbag sitting by the shoji screen. It looked wildly out of place with the rest of his traditional set-up. Sero dragged it over to Todoroki’s desk and flopped down into it.

Over the next twenty minutes, they reviewed that day’s lessons (apparently it’s like, good practice to review what you’ve learned that same day, which was annoying, but Sero’s grades had been going up, so whatever). Todoroki explained over and over until Sero actually understood how to convert Cartesian coordinates to polar coordinates. Maybe he wouldn’t have had to explain so many times if Sero had listened carefully, but, well, it was hard with Todoroki talking to him in the soothing, patient tone he took on when he was teaching. He just looked so cute with his brow furrowed, thinking up a new way to explain a concept that would penetrate Sero’s thick skull. Sero liked to think he had built up a tolerance to buff, attractive men over his nearly-three years at U.A., but he was still weak to Todoroki’s hands, to the way his tight t-shirt clung to his broad shoulders.

The fact that he was cold as shit wasn't helping him focus either. Faint shadows of falling snow danced along the translucent paper walls of the shoji screen, taunting him.

But hey, at least he vaguely understood the polar coordinate system.

“You know, you’re pretty good at this,” Sero said after he finally solved a difficult math problem all on his own. “I bet the others would die to get their hands on your notes.”

“Guess they’ll die, then.”

Sero snickered. “That’s rough, dude.”

Todoroki shrugged. “I’m not going to put effort into something I don’t like to do when I know they won’t appreciate it.”

Sero freezes. “Wait - you don’t like tutoring?”

“Well - ”

“Oh shit, am I making you do something you hate? Bro, why didn’t you tell me, I wouldn’t have - ”

“It’s different when it’s you,” Todoroki said sharply.

Sometimes, it was hard to tell when Todoroki was joking, or if he was actually serious. The look in those blue-brown eyes, though, showed his resolve loud and clear.

Todoroki immediately averted his eyes. “I like helping you,” he muttered, “so it’s fine.”

“Oh.”

Not for the first time, Sero wondered: why him? Todoroki had many other friends ...maybe friends that were smarter than he was and didn’t need tutoring, granted, but other friends he could be hanging out with. What’s the appeal? Was it his wonderfully terrible sense of humor? Was it the muscles he totally wasn't showing off? Was it because they shared the same taste in manga (oh yeah - he should ask Todoroki if he finished with week’s Shonen Champion)? Was it because he, unlike at least half of their year, was capable of talking at a normal volume? Over his time at U.A., Sero had gained more confidence in himself than he ever thought he would, but when it came to Todoroki, he still felt...small. Unsure if the light that shone from a great hero like Todoroki drowned out his own little spark.

Usually things between them were pretty chill, but after that comment, a weird kind of tension settled over the room. Not bad, just quiet, like when there's a sleeping cat on your laps and you're afraid any movement will wake it.

Pretty soon, though, Sero began to shiver. He couldn’t help it - there was a winter storm outside, apparently, and he was in a tank top and jorts, and seriously, did  no one  turn the heat on? Did no one turn the heat on  and  the AC miraculously began working again?

Todoroki was staring at him, too. God, he must have thought Sero was some kind of pansy, getting cold so easily, unable to regulate his own temperature like  some  people (though he guessed in that case, most people would be pansies to Todoroki).

13) Convert 2x−5x   3   =1+xy into polar coordinates.

Sero tapped his pen against his paper. Todoroki’s gaze followed the movement, then returned to his face. Sero could practically feel his impatience.

Sero put his pen down and stretched his arms over his head. Todoroki looked away.  Got���em.  

“You know...” Sero said. Todoroki glanced back at him. “...staring at me isn’t going to help me solve this stupid question any faster.”

“I wasn’t staring,” Todoroki said, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

Sero grinned. Anyone who knew him well can tell you that the Cool and Cold hero Shouto was just as petty as any mortal. Probably pettier, in fact. “You totally were.”

Todoroki frowned. “You were shivering.”

“Yeah, wonder why.”

Todoroki’s gaze shifted over to him. He looked Sero up and down. Sero tried and failed not to shiver. Todoroki’s clenched jaw softed and his eyes smiled and he stared - this time, he  was definitely staring - Sero felt his face heating up (well, that’s one way to get warm).

Wordlessly, Todoroki got up and sat down next to him on the beanbag. Sero fell against him, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, thigh to thigh, the tips of Todoroki’s braid tickling his shoulder.

Sero froze up (pun intended). His heart pounded in his ears. But he knew what Todoroki was doing, so he didn’t feel guilty as he curled into his side, basking in the warmth like a cat in a strip of sunlight. And the warmth from Todoroki’s left side began to melt him down.  

He pressed his cheek against Todoroki’s shoulder and said, “I thought you didn’t like people using you as a space heater.”

“Most people.”

Sero smirked. “So you’re saying I’m special?”

Todoroki looked at him and smiled. “Didn’t I say that earlier?”

Ohhhh man oh fuck. How could he just say that, looking at him like that, like he was more than just the plainest guy in class, like he really was special? Sero was known for keeping his cool, for being the chillest dude in the group, but with someone as special as Todoroki looking at him like  he’s  special…fuck.

“I mean, well, like that was just about tutoring and not, you know - ”  nearly sitting in my fucking lap,   “  - sharing personal space.”

“You looked cold,” Todoroki said. He could feel Todoroki’s breath on his cheek. “I didn’t want you to be distracted.”

“I’m a lot more distracted now.”

A part of him cringed as the words left his mouth. Oh god, why did I say that, was that even sexy?  But another part of him pushed that part down and shushed it. This is the opening we’ve been waiting for, it said. Even if Todoroki turned him down, at least he could graduate without any regrets. Maybe he could even tell his grandkids that he once received a  personal  rejection from the great hero Shouto.

“Oh.” Todoroki said, shoulder tensing where Sero leaned against him. Sero braced himself mentally, the same way he did before he launched himself off a building, preparing for the inevitable gut-plunge as he swooped toward the ground. “...me too.”

And there’s the thrill of the upward swing.

Sero was an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t have shot his shot if he’d thought he had no chance. Still, hearing Todoroki say he feels it too took him by surprise in the best way possible. Like tasting the sweet tang of umiboshi in the center of a plain-looking onigiri. Like acing a test you thought you failed. Like snow in June.

The air between them was electric but still. Did that count as admitting their feelings? What should he say now? Where were they supposed to go from here? All Sero wanted to do his grab Todoroki’s hand and hold his stupid pretty face in his hands and kiss him silly, but they should probably like, talk about things -

“Hanta.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Oh thank fuck - yes please.”

And then he was kissing Todoroki Shouto, son of number one hero Endeavor, one of the Big Three most promising students at the most prestigious hero school in the country. His lips were soft but clumsy, shy but adamant as he pressed against him. Sero cupped his face and felt the slight inhale of Shouto’s gasp. Despite being pinned down by the weight of Shouto’s chest on his and trapped between the strong forearms framing his face, the light that perpetually emanated from the great hero Shouto wasn’t overwhelming. Sero was warmed by his light instead of cowed by it. In that moment, Shouto’s light drew out the best in him - and his little spark ignited.  

Yet, that question that always nagged him surfaced again: Why me?      

As Shouto’s kisses began to trail down his neck, Sero figured he could ask why later - when Shouto wasn’t busy showing him it’s you, it’s you.      

Even with the frozen tundra battering just outside, Sero was burning up again.

[simonlovelazy]

Saeran/Reader Halloween Fic

This is my very late contribution to the Halloween craze!!!

(Hey, it’s still Halloween here, ok?)

Title: The One Without a Costume

Fandom: Mystic Messenger

Pairing: Saeran/ Reader, Saeran/You

Tags: Teen and up audiences, mostly crack, attempt at writing something hot lol

Word count: 2452

Summary: You have a theory about people going to costume parties without costumes, but maybe Saeran will manage to change your mind?

takes place somewhere in the secret endings or whenever you want it to

   AO3 link

  The One Without a Costume

You would need way more fingers to count how many times you've heard the good old "don't judge a book by its cover" speech. But there is at least one situation when the rule does not apply. If you're at a costume party, a Halloween costume party to make the sin of dullness even more pronounced, and see a guy sporting his casual clothes, you know exactly what kind of story he is.

        You wait for Halloween the way kids wait for their Christmas gifts, and you’d happily buy yourself an Advent calendar counting down the days of October instead of December, but you don’t think anyone has ever come up with an idea to produce one. You always think what you’re going to dress up as in advance; it takes days to gather the supplies and fabrics, and then even more days (and nights) to sew and glue things together. While the process in itself is a joy, the costume party is the crowning moment, and this you enjoy the most.

          Some people can’t spend so much time or money on their costumes, or they simply don’t care as much as you, and it’s perfectly fine. A bandage mummy and a sheet ghost are not a repelling view – you enjoy the last-moment costumes and giggle at these conveying a pun.

        But the ones without a costume? They don’t attend these parties to have some fun, no, they’re here to announce how much they despise dressing-up, you, and the notion of having fun altogether. Excuse me, sir, but is this too much fun for you? Should we turn the music down? Or maybe, take our stupid costumes and get out?

        You shift from foot to foot. Who would have thought your mouth would turn into the Sahara after a song or two of dancing (and violent singing along)? And this guy! He isn't even pouring himself the damn punch!

        That's it. You readjust your protruding fang, grab a hold of your cloak, and march in the direction of the notorious punch-stirrer with a sense of dignity, head held up high.

        The tactic is to intimidate him with your sheer presence, so without a word, you stand next to him and wait. You have to give him that – even if nothing says “to hell with Halloween” more than a basic black and white raglan t-shirt, the atmosphere around him is saturated with gloom. You’re almost grateful he’s ignoring you and hasn't even looked up from the damn bowl. If his stiff posture and silent determination in stirring can be any determiners, his glare must kill on the spot.

        And so he looks up. "What?"

        You gasp.

        You were right about intensity of his stare. But boy, are his eyes a spooky surprise! One gold and one mint eye narrow at you. The only thing today you expected less than this was the guy who suddenly detached his hand and threw it across the room, scoring well-deserved three points and a little round of applause when it slapped the host across his beautiful face.

        Oh, and also:

        "You look just like this dude running around in a dress! The one with wings and a halo."

        He closes his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh.

        "Take what you need and go away."

        You do a once- over at the table. Melting ghost-cupcakes, cookies with yellow pumpkins made of watery icing, and... you actually don't know what cups of dirt are supposed to resemble, or if they're edible at all. Really makes you wonder how much Zen splurged on catering this year.

        "Yeah, but no, just wanted something to drink. Are you done with this?" you ask, pointing at the punch. He hasn't let go of the ladle for a single moment.

        "No," he answers with a scowl. "Still haven't found it."

        "Found what?"

        "My other lens."

        Suddenly you're not thirsty anymore. How do you lose a contact lens in a bowl of punch is a mystery you don't venture to solve.

        "Are you going to put it back in your eye when you find it?"

        He actually dumps the ladle and throws you the most incredulous look you've ever been gifted. He has quite a repertoire of glares, you must say.

        "No."

        "Then, why not forget about it and enjoy the party? But first, maybe flush the whole thing down the toilet, 'cause if someone chokes himself to death, I'll be the first one to point at you to the cops."

        "At least if someone chokes, we’ll have one convincing ghost in here," he says half-smiling, which suits him in a devilish kind of way. And he’s kinda right – the ghost girls in short skirts may be cute, but they have small chances to scare anyone present.

        You're about to make a brilliant remark when he grabs the massive vessel and walks off.

        "Come on, you'll open the door for me," he throws without turning his head, and you find yourself scurrying behind him before you have the time to question it.

The trip isn't long which isn't surprising considering the size of the apartment. The problem is that there are more people squeezed on one square metre than it should be physically possible, and still more and more guests pours in and, naturally, at least half of the gathering is partying in the line to the bathroom. There's Aladdin and his Carpet (she's not having a good time, you can tell), a promiscuous cat, three colourful feathery beings, and yes, you have found Wally, and guessing by the colour of his face, he really needs to go in asap.

        "Kitchen?"

        "Kitchen."

When the punch is finally gone in the kitchen sink, or more precisely, spluttered all over the mountains of the dirty dishes (still no signs of the lens to be seen), you start shifting uncomfortably. It must be a Halloween miracle (or rather a trick of fate) because there’s no one in the kitchen save for you and the guy without a costume.

        Only the muted echoes of music reach in here, so when you clear your throat, the sound is deafening. “I think I should go now.”

        “Why so fast? Is anyone waiting for you?” he asks. He's leaning on the counter, the tap behind his back letting out droplets like a metronome. One silence, two silences, three silences...

        In the pale light of the full moon, seeping through the window on the side, the shadows on his face become more pronounced and sinister. Even though he's not wearing a terrifying disguise, or any disguise at all, he gets a shiver out of you.

        “I came here with a friend.”

        “But?” he initiates, raising an eyebrow. Maybe he noticed how you were dancing alone on the makeshift dance floor.

        “But the last time I saw her, she was getting handsy with a werewolf in the parking lot.”

        He hums thoughtfully. “She shouldn't have left you alone.”

        It may be an attempt at consolation, but the way he says it earns another shiver from you. Was his voice low like this earlier?

        You step back to lean on the fridge and fold your arms, trying to mirror his casualness.“What are you doing here, anyway? You don't strike me as a costume-party animal.”

        “Wasn't really my choice. I had to come because I'm in the same organisation as our Zen.”

        The only organisation that comes to your mind is the RFA, but again, he doesn't look like a guy doing charity work. Not that you have time to mull it over with him lazily leaving his spot and coming in your direction.

        Suddenly you understand the infamous toil of breathing in a corset.

        “And you? A musical actor, perhaps?” he asks, jumping on a counter next to the fridge. You don't like how his new spot allows him to look down at you.

        For a terrible second you think the hand he's reaching out will be placed somewhere on you, and you freeze in both panic and anticipation. You only allow yourself to breath out when it lands above your head and starts playing with magnets.

        It’s hard to tell if he's playing with you or being clueless.

        What was the question again?

        “Haha, no. The werewolves-favouring girl is. I'm just the unnecessary plus one.”

        He takes his hand away from the fridge, visibly pleased with the rearranged magnetic letters. You twist your neck to see better, and surely enough, they spell some nasty words. How old is he?

        A warm breath tingles your exposed skin where the high collar has slid down a little, the stranger still hovering above your head. You will yourself to face him again, but then, oh Lord, his playful smirk can't mean anything good.

        This time his hand aims for you, you can tell by how his funny eyes never leave your face. He's not hurrying anywhere, and you can't stand the anticipation; it's hard to stand still as he closes the distance between you even more, ever so slowly.

        Against your better judgement, you pucker up your lips, but his hand doesn't cup your face like you hoped it would. Instead, he gets the hold of your chin with his thumb, and the next thing you know, the soft pad of his index finger traces the outline of your lips. He brushes your cupid's bow with a feathery-like delicacy, grazes your bottom lip, and pushes it slightly down. You open your mouth just a little, paying no heed to the gasp escaping it in the process, and only then you realise that the poking out fang has been painfully biting on your lip the whole time.

        “I wouldn't say–”

        “Saeran!” Someone turns all the lights on. “Stop hiding out like that, my costume is incomplete without you!”

        You jump away from said Saeran, adjust the collar of your cloak in the name of decency, and wholeheartedly hope that your pale make-up manages to cover the blush underneath.

        Saeran's clone creeps in the threshold, clutching a hem of his white gown with an unexpected skill and grace.

        “Oh! Am I interrupting something?” he asks innocently, but comes a couple steps closer to the two of you.

        “Yes, yes, you are!” Saeran growls, straightening. You can't help but share his annoyance. What it was exactly and where it was going – you don't know – and now, you may never get the chance to find out.

        “Sorry~” Saeran's clone wears a mischievous grin which doesn't quite match the halo on his head. “At least put on these,” he says, throwing something in your general direction. Only when Saeran catches it, you can take a better look. It's a head-band with devil's horns attached to it.

        So he has a costume, after all. Not the most elaborate, but still better than nothing. He doesn’t look too keen to wear it, though.

        "No horns, no party!” the one in a dress yells enthusiastically.

        "I’ll choose ‘no party,’ then."

        "Not an option! Sorry, I’m not the one making the rules. So, suit up and come – let's get this party started with some conga line, whaddya say?” he's about to leave when he turns around once more, “The vampire princess is also invited~”

        And with the last wiggle of his eyebrows, the dress-clad guy is gone.

        You snatch the horns from Saeran's hands – it's the cheap-plastic kind of deal you can get at any festival. And surely enough, you find the switch. The glowing red horns land on his head, sticking out almost seamlessly from his dishevelled red locks.

        “And now you too?” He tries to throw it off, but you stop him.

        “Oh, c’mon! Make my millennium.” You step back a little to give him an assessing look. “Suits you.”

        Saeran shakes his head in a feigned disbelief, “There’s a special spot in hell for sinners like you.”

        “I’d love to find out what you’d do to me if I got there, but I’m afraid I’m immortal.” You say in, what you hope is, a seductive whisper.

        From this angle, the red lights glimmer in his eyes like a warning.

        “We'll have to make do with the time we have tonight,” he says.

        It must have been flirting done right because he grabs you by your waist, bringing you closer to him.

        “Wanna get out of here, princess?” he murmurs to your ear, the timbre of his husky voice shattering your facade of composure.

        You only manage to hum in response, but it’s enough, and soon you find yourself lead out the kitchen and through the crowd of sweaty bodies, his hand never letting go of yours. Adrenaline rushes through your veins as you’re looking around afraid that Saeran’s brother will appear in front of you to ruin the fun.

        It’s been a while since you’ve done something spontaneous, and somehow Saeran seems to be a perfect person to be irresponsible with. God, you needed this. You run and giggle at how stupid it is that you’re dressed up as a vampire and yet feel so alive.

        When you finally reach the door, you still keep an eye on the surroundings, making sure you’re out of radar range while Saeran is skimming trough the overflowing hallstand. You came here wearing only your cloak, but something tells you, you won’t be cold tonight. He finally pulls out his leather jacket from underneath the tons of other clothes, but he’s not done there until he fishes out car keys from some other jacket’s pocket.

        “It’s not yours, is it?” you ask, but he only smiles in a truly devilish way and goes out.

        Yes, definitely, he’s not the bore you took him for. The party hasn’t even started yet.

        You only catch him up at the end of the staircase leading out of this weird underground apartment. He pushes the door open, ready to go into the night, knowing that you’ll follow, but you tag at his arm stalling him in place.

        “No, wait!”

        He turns to you with an adorably puzzled look, and you do the only logical thing. His jacket isn’t zipped up, it barely hangs on him, and it’s almost too easy to stand up on your toes and aim where every vampire would. The contact ends in a blink, but leaves you gasping for breath.

        Your dark lipstick leaves a mark on his pale neck. He looks pleased, but still very much puzzled, and the recognition lights up in his eyes only when you jingle the keys in his face.

        “I’m driving.”

~~

On that day, Yoosung promised himself that under no circumstances will he ever take care of party snacks again.

[zenosanalytic]

Solo Bouno

So I saw Solo on Tuesday and it’s a Good movie; not great, didn’t make a Huge impression on me, but Fun and Enjoyable and certainly something I’d happily watch once it makes it to cable, with a few quibbles.

The Good:

The acting was (mostly)good

The characters were well-written

The Dialogue was fun, funny, and unforced

While the Plot had Issues, it flowed well and felt natural, and there was nothing really eye-rolling in it.

All the technical aspects -Design, Cinematography, sound work, editing- were Proficient

Establishes the stakes quickly and effectively

Chewie is Great

Lando is Great

L3-37(yes, they REALLY named the robot l33t) is Great

The Quibbles:

It was a VERY Generic origin story

They didn’t set up themes they needed to, and didn’t really deliver a good payoff on the themes they did set up

Related to this, there are important character beats and payoffs that are never really setup(or “Planted”).

It could have done better with its female cast. I’ll get into this a bit more under spoilers

Alden Ehrenreich NEVER STOPS SMILING! I mean, that’s an exaggeration obvsl, but it was REALLY noticeable to me. IDK if this is an artifact of the editing, the directing, or Ehrenreich’s choices about the character(tbf, Han is BSing people A LOT in this film, and the smile was Ford’s BSing expression so...), and it wasn’t really grating or anything but, by the end, it did take me out of the story a bit.

Glover does Williams’ accent for Lando a few times and, while it isn’t bad, I liked his take on the character better without it.

The writing doesn’t really do enough to sell the second job and, while all the action which constitutes it is Fine, I kinda grumbled at how thin and absolutely not convincing that bit was.

Ok I think that’s it. On to my lengthier Spoiler-Quibbles:

Solo falls into the common prequel/origin story trap of trying to explain everything about a character. This is always a bad idea but, with this movie and this cast, it is a particularly Horrible idea. Han, Chewie, and Lando are the perfect sorts of characters for a series of matinee-type adventure movies -think Indiana Jones- and Solo, by shoving his whole backstory into one film and leaving him practically where we find him in Star Wars, really, really, really, makes that unlikely. An added negative of that is it takes what the OS establishes as years -maybe decades- old relationships between Han, Chewie, and Lando and turns them into a one-job acquaintance. That was a Very Bad Idea.

Han starts off speaking Wookie(albeit badly), and I feel like that choice leaves a lot of potential comedy&bonding on the table.

They really misuse Thandie Newton and her character, Val. She dies practically as soon as she’s introduced, and in a way that doesn’t feel honest to the character or situation. If they’d just put the bombs on a timer rather than a detonator this would have been less bad

This is compounded by how little mourning and upset Beckett, her lover and longtime partner, is allowed to displayed over her death(oh, and the deaths of his entire crew. Oh, and the loss of the future they’d planned together).

Half of Beckett’s initial crew disappears between scenes, and this is never explained. It really isn’t a big deal and I didn’t even realize it until thinking about the movie just now, but it seems like kind of a significant continuity error. Maybe they die, and I’m just not remembering it?

This actually could have worked, though, if the movie were a bit more willing to invest in characters other than Han. Later in the movie Beckett betrays Han over what to do with the Hyperfuel they’ve stolen. If he’d been shown as really angry and upset over these deaths, or if he’d been shown to be the sort willing to sacrifice lives for the score, then all of this stuff could have tied into a really neat ambiguous antihero narrative for him. Unfortunately, he’s consistently shown to be sentimental, friendly, even fatherly. He only gets visibly angry at Han once and only for an instant; isn’t angry at the Cloud Riders at all, even though they’re responsible for the deaths of Val and Rio; and only once comes even close to suggesting a score matters more than their lives, and only does that right after Val and Rio’s deaths. As a result, his betrayal feels detached from the character we’ve known up to that point. And what’s his motivation? The life he planned to live once his debts were cleared is gone and, by stealing the Hyperfuel for himself at the end, he’s guaranteed to live under a bounty for the rest of his life. It just doesn’t fit.

The same arc-confusion plagues Clarke’s Qi’ra. She also betrays Han in the end -maybe out of a desire to protect him, maybe out of pragmatism, but most likely from ambition- but the conflict her choice is a solution to is never established. It’s never established that she might be using Han and he’s unwilling to see it. They suggest Qi’ra is morally different from the person Han knew as a kid with(I think?) one passing line of dialogue, but the film doesn’t show anything that’d convince the audience she is, and shows lots of things(like her attempts to hide her brand from Han) which suggest she regrets her current life and wants out, not deeper in. Her making the choice she does thinking it was the best way to protect them both would make sense with the character on the screen(though, given that Han is Beckett’s only living accomplice by the end, it seems more like he’d catch the blame for it too, particularly once Beckett’s dead), but the movie presents it as a power-grab.

There’s a lot of stuff in here that’s either changes to, or taken from, the EU. References like this can be fun, but they’re always a gamble since you’re relying on information from outside the movie which the audience might not be aware of, and thus be confused and annoyed by. The Wookies have, apparently, been forced off their homeworld and enslaved en masse. Darth Maul’s not dead, but rather the head of the Syndicate Qi’ra (literally)belongs to(they even have him pull out the double-headed lightsaber and brandish it while he’s holoing her at the end so people will realize who he is; it’s ridiculous). The Cloud Riders who interrupted their first attempt to steal Hyperfuel turn out to be working with the Rebellion. The last one’s not a HUGE deal, but the others I thought were pretty odd choices.

They give Han a (very generic)rough backstory, but then present him as just a totally unambiguous, noncynical, non-gritty, good guy and softboy. Which, yes, he should have a heart of gold absolutely, but without ambiguity there’s no tension; no concern over what sort of choice he’s going to make. The whole “Rogue with a Heart of Gold” dynamic only works, narratively, when the character is both a Rogue, and kind-hearted to people hanging by a thread. This Solo isn’t really a Rogue; hell, he doesn’t even cheat at poker!

Miscellaneous Spoilers:

They kill off L3 ~halfway through the movie, and I’m ambivalent about it. She dies cheering on an enslaved rebellion she unwittingly started, which fits the character, but I think it would have been more fitting if she’d set it off intentionally, and if she’d died in a more active way; she is shooting at the slavers earlier in that sequence, but during the scene where she’s shot she’s cheering the rebels with her back turned to the danger and gets blind-sided. I mean, just having her get iced while shouting advice, or while looking back to Lando while still fighting, would have been much better. Also, while I didn’t think it was manpainy(Lando is justifiably and visibly upset about it, but that doesn’t become the focus of her death), they do then later strip her harddrive to merge it with the Falcon’s navigation computer, and that sort of direct utilizing of a female-coded character’s death and body to advance the (male-protags’)story didn’t sit right with me in the theater. It’s not handled really terribly or anything, in fact they do it in crisis as a sort of last-resort, but I still kinda |:T’d at it.

Lando has A LOT of capes, and it is Wonderful uwu Also he is an author and possible vlogger, which is Also Wonderful uwu uwu

Erin Kellyman as Enfys Nest has a small but important part, and she makes a big impression with it. We have the whole movie to get to know Han(on top of already liking him from the previous films) and I still found myself more interested in her story and her crew when they revealed their true nature at the end, than with New!Han(who wasn’t really even that bad; I know I’m ragging on Ehrenreich but he did alright with what had to have been an intimidating part). I guess this is also an excellent example of how important Mystique --NOT explaining things; leaving them vague-- can be to character-charisma.

That’s everything I can think of right now. Don’t be fooled by the length of that quibblelist though; it’s absolutely a fun movie and, if you like Star Wars and the Star Wars setting and, if the price of a ticket won’t hurt your wallet, it’s definitely worth seeing. A Fun, Funny, Entertaining, Summer Movie, and a good way to spend an afternoon.

P.S.: Plus, for the more politically minded and spiteful among us(read: Me), it’ll piss off legions of entitled manbabies online who want to get Kathleen Kennedy fired for having the temerity to be a woman while running Star Wars.

[robbyrobinson]

Ranking the Sisters

10. Lily: Again, while I do like Lily, she doesn't have that much of a personality besides being cute. Really, I feel that Lily is pointless at some points; her only purpose is to be cute, and to say "poo poo."

9. Lisa: Now, I have said this before, so I'll keep it brief. I mainly dislike Lisa because she comes off as a conceited girl who looks down on her siblings and others. I mean, I get that she's supposed to be a genius and all, but does she really need to put others down? Besides that, she also came off as a killjoy to me, especially in episodes like "Snow Bored" in which she was planning to melt the snow so that the schools would be open that day. That's not even getting into the fact that she performs experiments on her own siblings at points, much like how she gave Luan a cookie that caused her to temporarily glow in the dark, or that one time that she accidentally caused Leni's head to swell up. And then she nearly electrocuted Lily. No, Lisa, it doesn't matter that you were going to give Lily a sucker afterwards; that was just messed up. Oh, and the whole thing with taking stool samples....thankfully, one fanfic passes that off as her just being concerned about their health so that's okay, I guess.

8. Lynn: You all know how I feel about her. Even as season 2 is nearing its end, nothing has made me come to like Lynn. Really, the one word that I can think of when I'm thinking about Lynn is bully. Now while I get that some people may not like Lori or Lola because they're jerks, at the very least, they have moments that show that they're not terrible at heart. With Lynn, you barely get that. I mean if threatening to beat Lincoln, karate chopping him, doing the Dutch Oven on him, etc. is her definition of affection, I want no part in that. I still think her worst episode was definitely "Space Invader." She acts ungrateful to Lincoln after she was kicked out of her own room and he begrudgingly allowed her to stay in his. I guess what I mean is while I personally believe that she does all this to Lincoln without any ill intention, she is never made to realize that enough is enough. And then theres' the fandom....Lynn has to be one of the most overrated of the sisters, well besides one that'll appear later in the list. I mean, I don't get it; why do people like her? I mean, besides the normal art, you of course have Loudcest, which I blame "Space Invader" for. I tried....I really tried to like Lynn, but after everything, especially NSL (which I did not hate; I still think that Lincoln was at fault), I just don't think I'll ever like her. I don't hate her, but I also think she's one of the weakest of the sisters as she has yet to have any noticeable character development.

7. Lori: Now, while I do agree with some blogs that say that there's more to Lori than meets the eye, I still don't find her interesting. Out of the sisters, she doesn't have any noticeable talents. She just comes off as being kind of average. And then there's those moments where she gets mad. Some are understandable, but then there are some moments where she comes off as a bratty little child. Case in point, "Save the Date." She forces Lincoln to go on a double date without his consent, all because Bobby dumped her when Lincoln accidentally offended his sister. Really? Does Lori even value Lincoln as a brother? I just get the sense that had Lincoln not have been born into their family, they might not want much to do with him. I don't mean to say it that way, but if you care more that your boyfriend dumped you than your own sibling....

6. Luan: I find Luan annoying at some points. Just getting that out of the way. She's energetic, almost happy all the time, etc. but I just tend to find her irritating especially with her puns. While some of them are funny, a lot of her puns are the death of comedy. And that's not even getting into how she becomes criminally unhinged whenever April Fools' Day is on the horizon. She can give even the Joker a run for his money. However, as I have said, I didn't hate "April Fools' Rules." I am still amused with how much thought Luan puts into her pranks. Really, they seem like a lot of them required meticulous planning. As for a "Fool's Paradise....." she was a borderline serial killer in that episode. Of course no one died, but she seemed to be even more psychotic in that episode. I'm just really worried for Luan's mental state. She seems to bubble all of this up, only to go all out on one day. However even then, I wouldn't label Luan as "evil." She just comes off as someone who just wants to have fun, but she just doesn't think it through enough.

5. Lana: Lana is an okay character. For the most part, I like her because of how she likes to get her hands dirty, as well as how she likes things like mud, frogs, reptiles, bugs, etc. Of course, my absolute favorite episode regarding Lana is still "Toads and Tiaras." I really loved the bonding she had with Lincoln, and how she ends up winning because she chose to be herself. However, I do sometimes get a little nauseous regarding Lana because of her eating habits. She ate worms once, she eats dog food (but her comment about dog biscuits keeping her "coat" clear was pretty funny), and she even ate a wadded piece of gum she got from a garbage can. It's really a miracle that the only time this girl got sick was when she contracted the flu.

4. Luna: I don't really know how to go about discussing Luna. For the most part, I like her; I mean, while I'm not much of a music guy, I do often like hearing Luna jam on her bass guitar or playing other instruments. I also find her to be one of the more kind sisters (no, I'm not going to use that nice sister crap if you think I'm going to), and I just ultimately found her to be kind of cool. If I had an older sister, I would definitely want her to be kind of like Luna. On the other hand...sometimes I get annoyed with Luna's voice. It's like scratching nails across a chalkboard. I mean, not necessarily when she uses that pseudo-British accent. When she's singing or something like that...really, Luna isn't one of those types that should sing. I mean at some points I'd be like "Dude, turn it down a couple volumes, please?" Seriously; besides her short hair and butch appearance, no wonder my mom confused Luna as a boy. She can seriously pass herself off as one. And as you would've probably guessed if you've read this far without chucking your computer out the window: I feel that she's way overrated. Besides that nicer sister nonsense, her reveal as a bisexual. I have spoken to death about how I feel on the subject; while I love the twist...it doesn't really make Luna better in my eyes. I mean, 99.9% of comments on "L" is for Love amount to "OMG! Luna likes girls! Best. Character. Ever!" I mean, who cares? Well besides those who dumped the show for that stupid reason. Just because a characters' gay, lesbian, bisexual, or trans does not make them an automatic good character. There should be more depth to their character. We know about the character, but we don't know anything about that character. Just because Luna's bi does not make her automatically good. She's not a bad character, but she comes off as pretty hollow overall.

3. Lola: OK, while I love parading that Lola is a sociopath, but I don't ultimately believe that to be the case. In regards to who is the more visibly entertaining of the sisters, Lola has that in spades. She's hammy with how self-centered she is, she overreacts a lot. I mean, remember how she was in "Out of the Picture?" She was overly dramatic about her bad yearbook photo. Besides that, I also love her "evil" moments. They're over the top and funny with how terrified the other siblings get around her, etc. Besides that, she has moments where she can be pretty nice. Especially with "Out of the Picture" where she voices her gratitude towards Lincoln and Clyde for changing the photo, saying that if anything, she'd remember what they did for her. And then JFMStudios ruined that heartwarming moment by making an alternate ending. Curse you, JFMStudios (jk)!!

2. Leni: I just love how innocent Leni can often be with her cluelessness. Amongst the sisters, I find Leni as one of the more quotable. I also like how she's generally one of the more kind of the sisters, and how she can be thoughtful at some points. If you're worried that she may get too played as dumb frequently, they always manage to have a moment where Leni is smart in her own way to the point that some of her ideas could pass as outright ingenious.

1. Lucy: Again. Much like with my first list, Lucy ended up scoring the number one spot somehow. If I ranked the sisters by which personality suited me the most, I somehow ended up scoring under Lucy. I mean I'm serious; I once did a personality quiz based on the show, and I somehow ended up getting Lucy. At some points, I do kind of feel like I understand Lucy the most, because I feel the same way about certain things myself. Sometimes I feel unhappy, sometimes I feel that others ignore me or see me as invisible, or sometimes I feel that life isn't fair. I guess that's what often drifts me towards liking Lucy the most. Not in some kinship, obviously, but I find her relatable. On another note, one thing I have in common with Lucy is how I seemingly appear in other places of my house without my parents or grandmother noticing, and then unintentionally scaring them. Of course, that's because I walk fast, sometimes without making a sound, but that's beside the point.

Your favorites from best to worse?

[ciathyzareposts]

Journeyman Project – Final Rating

Written by Reiko

All the way back on gameplay post 1, one of our intrepid commenters managed to neatly summarize my final sense of the game. Ross said, “This is one of my favorite series of games, but man is this first one clunky.” That’s exactly it. It was a cool ride, but…clunky. Like a budget rollercoaster that clanks and bumps around every turn, and its top speed never quite manages to feel fast. And then there’s the place where you’ll hit your head if you don’t remember to duck.

I am actually thinking of a particular kiddie rollercoaster I’ve ridden with my young son. Yes, it was clanky and bumpy, fast enough to be fun but not fast enough to feel fast for long. No, I never actually bumped my head, but there’s one point where the track dives below an overhead loop that you reach later in the ride. I’m very short, but as an adult on a kids’ ride, it felt like a near miss every time I went through that part, to the point where I would usually duck a bit even though I didn’t have to.

Puzzles and Solvability

Most of the puzzles were very solvable, but rather on the obvious side. Use the oxygen mask to breathe while in the depressurized tunnels. Disarm the bomb before taking it. Use the right biochip in the right situation. It’s really not a hard game. There were only two tricky timing puzzles, and one was only tricky because of the interface (the silo deactivation minigame with the awkward cursor), and the other was the ore crusher. Some of the puzzles were very derivative, like the stunted Mastermind variation. And there was a real maze, which fortunately was rendered rather trivial with the Mapping biochip. There are also no alternate solutions except for the final choice of how to deal with each robot, whether “peacefully” or not.

How many chips can I grab from the robot before it self-destructs?

Then there’s the walking dead situation. The problem is, the game doesn’t allow any possibility of returning to time periods that have been won. Oddly enough, it’s possible to fail the Mars level without dying and start over again, as if the robot didn’t succeed. But once you’ve defeated a robot, then the level is won and becomes inaccessible. If you fail to take all of the biochips from the robots, then they are lost. Some are duplicates, but I managed to lock myself out of completing the game my first time through solely because I failed to get the Retinal biochip, which is unique. It’s also possible to miss the wire cutters, but this would only lock the player out of the best score, not prevent winning the game entirely.

Score: 4

Interface and Inventory

In my opinion, the entire interface could have used a redesign. It’s typical of the time that the viewing window was very small, with an interface frame around it. I don’t mind that so much, but the inventory in particular was not designed well.

I have to go from the Access Card Bomb at the top of the list to the Stun Gun, nearly at the bottom of the list.

First, there was no good reason to mix biochips and regular inventory items in the same list, particularly when the chips can also be accessed from the pull-out list at the bottom. All that does is make it harder to get to a particular inventory item when you need it, and given a few times where you need to get to an item fairly quickly, it’s really awkward. Plus the list itself is really small, with only five items visible at a time, and the scroll buttons are very slow. It’s a good thing the time limits on those moments that require a response are very generous.

Plenty of room for the pull-out list to stay open at the bottom.

Second, that pull-out list should have just been a permanent frame at the bottom with all of the spaces (full or empty) always visible. That way every biochip would have been a single click away. The interface chip in particular needed to be more accessible because of the scoring being tied to the time limit: every time you have to fumble through the inventory to get to the interface chip, energy and points are slipping away. So most of the time I left the interface chip activated so I could get to it without delay. Note that even with the pull-out list open, there’s still enough room that the inventory list could have displayed more than five items.

To be honest, I think it’s a bad sign when you have an inventory item called “interface”. The interface should never get in the way of inventory or be represented as inventory. In this sort of high-tech future, it might sometimes make sense to have a sort of digital interface item that the player uses, but the interface biochip isn’t even the same thing as the eyescreen object that Agent 5 clearly picks up and wears in the opening video, which then becomes the entire visible viewing screen plus surrounding interface. The biochip only performs the meta functions of saving, loading, and displaying score, which should generally not have anything to do with physical objects in the protagonist’s world. (Probably games exist that successfully and cleverly break the fourth wall in this way, but this isn’t one of them.) In other words, this is clearly the design of an inexperienced studio that hasn’t yet figured out that meta functions should never interfere with gameplay. By contrast, Sierra games early on already were designed to pause gameplay by default when you access the menu screen.

Pressure plate triggers T-rex shadow?

I also didn’t like that certain places had unskippable animations that would play every time you moved there. Sometimes the repetition was merely implausible. In the distant past, the same dinosaur would appear every time you stood in the right spot, but at least that was a short animation. Other times the repetition was really annoying, like the rather lengthy sequence that would play when entering the transporter at the beginning. The Pegasus device also had an animation for displaying the timeline every single time you entered it, warped back from a time period, or loaded a saved game there. Overall, the game just wasn’t very responsive, and that made replaying sections less fun than it could have been.

This was almost entirely a mouse-driven game, except that moving around could also be done with the keyboard, which I very much appreciate. That minigame with the cursor really should have had some sort of keyboard controls as well, though. The mouse control was very imprecise, which added artificial difficulty to the task.

Score: 3

Story and Setting

The plot involved fairly typical time-travel shenanigans, which boiled down to “villain who invented time travel hates aliens, so he sends robots back in time to mess up history and make everyone else hate aliens too.” Cue the time agents to set things right. The interesting part is seeing what the future is like and observing the effects that just a few changes have on history. It’s not terribly realistic, but then time travel generally isn’t. On the other hand, the change in the political climate when suddenly everyone has a reason to believe that aliens have attacked Mars is rather understandable.

I asked early on why attacking Castillo at the rally in 2310 was one of the choices to change when the initial contact with the Cyrollans, where they offered Earth Symbiotry membership in ten years, was two years before that, in 2308. After playing the whole game, I suppose that the first two events (destroying the alien ship and the Mars colony, and attacking the small country with nukes) were meant to turn the world’s governments against aliens and each other, while the rally event was meant to prevent Earth from wanting to accept the Cyrollan offer once it was made. You’d think the third event wouldn’t be necessary if the first two succeeded, but I guess Sinclair was hedging his bets, especially since he was prepared to assassinate the Cyrollan delegate at the crucial moment if none of the changes succeeded.

Neat sequence of flying the shuttle over Mars

I liked the setting, but I generally like science fiction. The Mars base was done particularly well: I enjoyed walking around the base with Japanese signs and watching the shuttle fly over the Martian surface. The distant past was very brief, although the vista with the volcano was pretty neat, and the other two past levels were mostly just internal corridors. The biomechanical doors in the rally level were intriguing, though.

Score: 5

Sound and Graphics

Sound effects were evocative and appropriate: doors swished, footsteps clanged on metal floors, the robot voices sounded suitably menacing, and so forth. The music was really fun too. You can find the soundtrack on Youtube here if you want to check it out. “Mars Maze” is the neat song that plays while you’re wandering around the maze of ore tunnels on Mars. That one is my favorite track. I also like the ending theme, which is a smoother and longer version of the music that plays on the main menu.

I also noticed that there’s a slower version of the Mars Maze song that’s labeled “Airless” with breathing and a heartbeat overlaid on it. I originally assumed (and was correct) that it isn’t possible to enter the tunnels without the oxygen mask, just like it isn’t possible to enter them from the other direction, but this track implies that it is possible to run out of air while in the tunnels. The description of the oxygen mask does say it’s only supposed to work for eight minutes. So I went back and entered the tunnels and tried waiting around. Sure enough, after about five or six minutes, the theme switched to the slower version and I started hearing the breathing, which sped up along with the heartbeat, and eventually the air did run out. So that’s another way to get the Suffocation ending. I had just always used the Mapping chip and sped through that section so fast that I never noticed that the air could run out. That’s also interesting because I can wear the oxygen mask for the entire NORAD level with no issues, but I think there it’s only filtering out the sleeping gas, so it doesn’t use up its oxygen.

Full tunnel map. I could be starting to run out of air here, but you’d never know it just by the screenshot.

At any rate, the alternate maze theme is a fantastic audio cue. I often play games without sound, but I think this game would be very hard to play without sound because so many of the puzzle cues are audio only. Nothing appears on screen to tell you that you’re running out of air. Another example: the security radio alerts tell you where the robot in the Mars colony has gone when it takes off in the shuttle, so you can take the other one and follow it. I would have really liked a subtitle option, as I just really prefer to read text rather than listen to voices (or ideally, do both, but have the option to skip ahead).

In the NORAD level, most of the corridors had an annoying alert repeating in the background about the sleeping gas. Sure, it helps the immersion a bit, but it’s very distracting. Probably it would have been just as effective and a fraction as annoying if the alert only played in the first main corridor. It’s not like you can get very far without having the oxygen mask anyway.

I really wanted text summaries of these videos…

One of the places where the FMV was less than helpful was with the videos of the timeline differences. I don’t mind a voice-over, but it would have been so much more efficient to show a still image of the speaker (because she looked different in the different timelines) with the text of the description, rather than playing those unskippable videos. The objective videos needed to be videos, though, because Sinclair’s menace and instability wouldn’t have come through with just text or even text with voice. But all of those videos that are triggered by the player should have been pausable and skippable.

The erupting volcano scene looks almost photorealistic, although low resolution.

The graphics were clear and even quite lovely in places, such as the volcano vista I mentioned, the views out the apartment windows over the city of Caldoria, and the views out the colony windows over the surface of Mars. Much of the game took place in relatively repetitive corridors, though. Plus, most of the animations were videos that took up very little of the game’s screen area: the visible area was already only part of the screen, and the parts that moved were often only a fraction of that.

Score: 6

Environment and Atmosphere

The atmosphere is quite good. I felt like the robots were really menacing, for instance. Every time I encountered the robot in the Mars level, I wondered if I was going to get blown up. The Mars level was the longest and best of the three major time periods (and because it’s supposed to be played first, I have to wonder if the other levels were intended to be longer but development was cut short).

The surface of Mars and more of the colony structure.

While the areas that are playable are sharply constrained, external views help make the worlds seem much larger. Outside the colony corridors is the surface of Mars. Outside the apartment is the rest of Caldoria. Outside the lab corridors is…well, we don’t really see it, but we do periodically hear stage announcements and people talking, which helps the illusion that we’re near a stage with a large audience. Again, the sound effects are fantastic. Much of the atmosphere comes from the sound.

Outside NORAD, though…? Who knows? All we see are corridors and all we hear is that horrid announcement about the sleeping gas. There are a lot of locked doors, though, which I guess is supposed to imply a larger base.

Score: 5

Dialog and Acting

I’m going to have to rate this category down for three reasons: there just isn’t all that much dialogue in the game to start with; most of the interesting bits are completely optional and even have to be skipped in a high-scoring run; and the written content has numerous typos/spelling errors. I’ll say more about each of these in reverse order.

Nobody ever checked this screen during development or testing?

Spelling errors bug me, especially in a game like this that hangs together quite well. I encountered no bugs aside from the one oddity of having the tranquilizer dart show up again when I restored inside the lab. Clearly the gameplay was tested, but nobody bothered to read through the text and check it? It really makes it seem like the video and audio content was considered more important, as if nobody reads in the future, but just watches videos instead. It’s a huge contrast to something like Myst with its copious journals and letters.

As I’ve mentioned, the game actively discourages exploration beyond what’s needed to solve the puzzles and advance. Sinclair’s lab at the rally has some extra research archives that explore what the man had been working on, which is great background material, but it’s totally irrelevant to stopping the robot. Naturally, the optimal playthrough entirely skips it. Any video is simply wasted time when the energy is ticking down, but it’s a shame that there wasn’t more of this sort of thing to be found in the other time periods for a playthrough that isn’t focused on optimization (especially the NORAD level, which felt particularly empty).

The voice reads all this as well as having it displayed on-screen.

Aside from brief encounters with the robots (and Sinclair at the end), there just isn’t much dialogue. The acting is well done, but there are no conversations, only one-sided remarks, and they are all very brief. The minigames did have significant written descriptions. But most of that merely duplicated the spoken content, which was unskippable. I mentioned earlier that I wanted subtitles for the videos. Here it seemed redundant to have both, since the purpose was only to explain how to play the minigames, not convey complex character information. The videos should have had subtitles, and the minigame explanations should have been text only.

Score: 4

That adds up to a final score of 4+3+5+6+5+4 = 27/60*100 = 45. Sixteen people made guesses ranging from 41 to 65, but this time, ShaddamIVth has nailed it.

CAP Distribution

100 points to Reiko

Blogger award – 100 CAPs – For blogging through this game for our enjoyment

50 point to Joe Pranevich

Classic Blogger Award – 50 CAPs – For blogging through Trinity for our enjoyment

38 points to MorpheusKitami

True Companion Award – 25 CAPs – For playing along with most of the game and providing amusing commentary

Spellchecker Award – 10 CAPs – For finding the repeated “dicovery” typo and the “nuclear missle” typo in the screenshots

Sudden Death Award – 3 CAPs – For alerting me to a death I’d missed: entering the mining tunnels without disabling the bomb

14 points to ShaddamIVth

Psychic Prediction Award – 10 CAPs – For guessing the final rating for Journeyman Project

Walking Dead Award – 2 CAPs – For sensing there would be a walking dead situation (but not how it would happen)

Cognitive Dissonance Award – 2 CAPs – For recognizing that the Mars robot should have been more violent

10 points to Adam Thornton

Psychic Prediction Award – 10 CAPs – For guessing the final rating of Trinity

7 points to Biscuit

Music Research Award – 5 CAPs – For determining that the post titles are all songs by Two-Mix

Pegasus Variation Award – 2 CAPs – For describing differences in the NORAD level in the Pegasus Prime remake

7 points to Ross

Psychic Summary Award – 5 CAPs – For echoing my conclusion of Journeyman Project back on the first post

Genre Evolution Award – 2 CAPs – For reflecting on how the JP games shifted their approach to exploration as the series progressed

3 points to Niklas

(Not-so) Sudden Death Award – 3 CAPs – For alerting me to a death I’d missed: letting energy run out in the prehistoric era

2 points to ATMachine

Historical Geography Award – 2 CAPs – For reminding us that Bonn was a capital while Germany was divided

With that, I am done with the first Journeyman Project game. We might eventually get to the Pegasus Prime remake (although with an original release date no earlier than 1997, it will be a while), and the second Journeyman Project game, Buried in Time, should be in the 1995 set. But before that, I’ll be back later in 1993 to see if Ecoquest II is just as cheerful and wholesome as the original.

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/journeyman-project-final-rating/

[ariahearthockey]

Love Me, If You Will - Chapter 4

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

_/_/_/_/

Fandom: Men’s Hockey RPF

Pairing: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin

Tags: 2017 NHL Playoffs, Concussion, Memory Loss, Medical Inaccuracies, Unexplained Medical Conditions, Alternate Reality, Time Travel (sort of), Pining, Fluff, Porn With Feelings, Happy Ending (sort of)

Soundtrack: Dancing On My Own - Calum Scott

_/_/_/_/

Chapter 4

Out of public's knowledge, Sidney has another set of routine being done at home on every game day. It is the routine before the widely known routine that is done at the rink. It consist of an hour nap right after lunch, a shower, followed by a thirty minute meditation and excessive tape watching until he can point out all of the opponent's strengths and weaknesses. But that is just him. He isn't sure if Geno has one and he respects the privacy of one's quirks enough to not ask Geno about it. So basically he doesn't know what Geno does when he leaves the rink after practice.

Of all things Sidney would have guessed, he definitely didn’t see Geno eating himself into a piroshki coma on a game day. After they left the rink, Geno made a stop at one of his favourite Russian restaurant and got himself something of two dozens of them in various fillings.

"Wow, G. That's a lot of—" Sidney has to say something as Geno stuffs the last piece into his mouth.

"Mmm.. Sid have pasta, I'm have piroshki." Geno huffs in between munch, and huffs and Sidney wonders if their nutritionist knew about this.

"Oh no, I'm not judging. I'm just a little concern. Like, are you okay? Do you need someone to rub your belly?"

"Sid need practice. Chirps still terrible."

Sidney stands to get the dirty dishes to the sink, all the while chuckling at Geno.

"So, this is your routine, eh? Or do you have more?

"Not as many as you, for sure. But some we do together."

"Really? So what? After you demolished those piroshki, we burn it out with hot kinky sex marathon?"

He doesn't know why he said that, or does he know anything else because that was one of the very few times when his mouth runs faster than his brain, and he blames it on the concussion. He could easily play it out as some casual chirp that means nothing if he doesn't feel his own cheeks burn. He is sure his blush tells the same level of embarrassment he feels internally when Geno stares at him like he has just spoken the forbidden word. Then it dawns on him.

"Oh. Um, I mean, yeah. We're married and married couple have sex all the time but that doesn't mean we do that as part of our routine, right? I mean, I was just trying to be funny, you know? Because you devoured all those calories and what better way to sweat it all out than some vigorous round of—"

He stops and winces at his choice of word and finds himself get all the more flustered when Geno gives him a sly grin, clearly enjoying seeing Sidney digging himself a hole. "Not that it immediately meant sex. I mean, of course not. There are other forms of workout that two people can do together that doesn't involve taking their clothes off or—"

"We do that many times, Sid."

"Wh—what?"

"Have sex with clothes on. And we have sex before marry too. Many times."

He should not be so flabbergasted at the mention of sex at his age. "Oh wow, okay." Absolutely not. "Um, that's—

"One time we late for practice, I'm give handjob until Sid come in boxers."

"Oh, God."

"Then sometime Sid tease a lot, I'm fuck Sid with pants down over couch."

A wave of arousal crashes over him and he finds himself getting hard in his pants. He should feel ashamed by the sort of response his body has from Geno's implications.

"Okay. So we um—we need to—"

"Sid."

He looks up promptly when he hears his name and is instantly caught in the depths of Geno's brown orbs. How did he get so close so fast?

"Sid think too much, brain not rest." Geno taps a finger to Sidney's temple before he slides his hand down to cup Sidney's flushed face. He leans into Geno's touch when Geno rubs soothing circles onto his heated cheeks. "I'm not force Sid. If Sid not remember, how I'm do?"

Sidney gulps visibly. "But—but if it's the routine—"

"No, Sid. We not fuck before game. You say too much distract from game." Geno moves his free hand down to his neck while murmuring those words in his ear. Sidney gasps softly as the burst of warm breath sends a tingling sensation down his spine.

With his renewed bravery fuelled by his waking arousal, he asks, "Then, what about after?"

Geno grunts and pushes Sidney back until the edge of the kitchen counter is digging into his ass. "I'm try be gentleman but Sid always make hard for me."

"Geno—"

He is cut off when Geno charges forward and kisses him with fervent, with an intensity that he has never known before. It is bruisingly delicious—all the licking and battling of tongues is making Sidney breathless and dizzy with want. And when Geno pulls on his bottom lip in between his teeth and sucks on the plump flesh, Sidney is hit with a strong current of desire that makes his hips buck forward on its own accord. Sidney lets out a broken, whiny noise when his own erection comes in contact with the obvious hard bulge, and it blows Sidney's mind to know that Geno is just as affected by the kiss as he is.

"Geno, do you want—"

Geno breaks their kiss and rears back, leaving a heady Sidney chasing after it. He opens his eyes and sees an equally flustered Geno, gasping for breath.

"Sid, we need to stop." Geno says desperately. His eyes—completely darkened with lust—drop down to Sidney's mouth and his finger comes up to trace the seam of the swollen lip.

"Yeah, we need—we need to stop." Sidney echoes Geno's words in a stutter whilst trying to catch Geno's mouth into another round of head-spinning kiss.

"Mmm, no, Sid. We uh—we can't." Geno grits out and pushes Sidney away with much reluctance. Sidney is confused by the mixed messages and seeing the pained look on Geno's face makes him jump back a little. In a minute window of clarity, he is crushed by the weight of his own stupidity. He chides himself for getting too caught up in his own feeling to see that Geno is trying to let him down easy.

"Oh. Okay. You're right. I'm—I'm sorry. This is probably a bad idea and I'd totally understand if you don't—"

"No, no. Sid. I'm not mean that. I'm want you, but we have game.." Geno let that trail off to its obvious conclusion. As clueless as he is sometimes, the indication is dawning clear and it makes him feel good again.

"Oh. The routine. Right. Superstitions." Sidney bites down on his lips in the hopes of salvaging himself from sounding more like an inarticulate fool. For some reason, that makes Geno dips back down and kisses him with a deep, throaty groan, and once again steals all his breath away.

"Sid drive me crazy. Bite lip and look so beautiful."

Sidney's breath hitches in his throat and his eyes flutter close. "God, you need to stop saying things like that if you don't want to break routine, G."

Geno leans back for the sake of giving both of them some breathing room, and takes long, deep breaths to calm himself. "I'm go out for run now, then shower, then nap. We watch tape after, yes?"

"Yeah," Sidney says, nodding at the same time. "We can do that."

And it is routine and more routine from then on. It becomes a comfortable setting for both of them, each minding their own quirks studiously. As promised, they go to the entertainment room later in the afternoon and binge on their previous games with the Caps, and discuss game plays and strategies like the professionals they are. They flinch when the tape plays the hit on Sidney on repeat, capturing every detail from every angle and the slow motion makes it look ten times worse than it is.

"The guys, they all angry about hit. Want revenge."

There is a moment of silence before Sidney speaks. "Hey, I know you guys are angry about that but focus on what's important, okay? Please don't go around starting stupid shit because you know we're not gonna win the game from the box."

"I'm try but I'm no promise. Hard to control Horny."

Sidney laughs and secretly agrees with Geno. There is no stopping Horny from anything when he is all fired up because he has been proven to runs solely on intensity stemming from his loyalty to his team.

"Just win this one for me, eh?"

"I'm make sure. Score and make Holtby look bad goalie."

"Well, I'd like to see that for a change because in my head, it was a pretty frustrated game. I don't remember like the exact sequence of it, but we were like, outshot the entire time. We're lucky that Shultzy scored a late one in the third, I think it's a power play or something or else we're heading into overtime for sure."

Geno snickers at the mention of overtime because it is no fun and the pressure is too high.

"Oh wait, I think you get an assist from that goal, so there's something."

Geno scoffs at the subtle chirp, "Your head broken. I'm show you hat trick tonight."

Sidney wants nothing more than to kiss the stupid smug look away from Geno's face but he isn't sure if he is capable of stopping once he get started. So, he settles on something else instead.

"Yeah, put your money where your mouth is, G."

"Huh?"

"Nevermind."

Geno uncaps the new bottle of Gatorade and down half of it in several gulps, and then they are back to tape watching and serious hockey talk until it is time to get to the rink for one interesting game with the Caps, sans a concussed Sidney Crosby.

_/_/_/_/

[torentialtribute]

An offside decision can never be to black and white even with VAR

Something doesn't feel right. It didn't feel right when Jesse Lingard's goal was rejected in June in the UEFA Nations League semi-final, a glorious move from goalkeeper to striker and a beautiful finish but ruled out because his toe could just be seen offside after repeated

However, it was Saturday's decision to exclude Gabriel Jesus' goal for Manchester City because the Raheem Sterling armpit was 2.4 cm offside – a barely noticeable distance when the video footage was unveiled – which hit the most.

Something feels wrong. The essence and joy of football is the free-flowing movement from defense to attack to score. The authorities must always find ways to allow goals such as those of Lingard or Jesus, if this is possible without unbalancing the game.

Gabriel Jesus was left behind after his late winner against Tottenham was excluded

Before the VAR, no assistant referee Raheem Sterling could have taken Saturday or June offside Lingard. It would be impossible to see the infringements with the human eye. You guessed it. And if you gamble, you can't give it. Both would have endured the goals. On the TV repeats, experts would have drawn the white lines and people would have said, "Well, maybe it's a few inches offside, but that isn't visible, so the decision is correct."

is the point where some people get stunned and even get furious. They want to be sidelined in a black-and-white decision. It is it or it is not. That way of thinking appeals to our innate sense of justice. But even with the VAR it can never be. A marginal offside is an instinctive guess.

My colleague Adam Shafiq has shown that the margin of error, taking into account the speed of Raheem Sterling and the frame rate of the TV picture, is 13 cm, which is considerable.

The Etihad erupted in a wild celebration extra time, only to experience VAR heartbreak

There was a lot of deception prior to the season that the VAR would only be used when a clear and obvious mistake was made. This is the case for the vast majority of authorities. But for offside it was said that that would not apply because the ruling should be final.

However, this is not the case for a profession as marginal as that of Sterling. Even the VAR cannot know for sure, because the frame rates at 50 per second are not yet sufficiently defined to be one hundred percent accurate. Given that the frame in question chosen by the VAR shows that Sterling was 2.4 cm offside and there was a margin of error of 13 cm, it is more likely that he was on the side instead of offside.

The deeper problem for football is that all this is a regression in the rules of the game. Older readers will remember that football was not always the intoxicating game that we see today in the 1980s. Sometimes it was terrible. The 1990 World Cup was considered bad, it was decided that legislative changes were needed and they would eventually knock down the attacking modern football that we see today, illustrated by people like Pep Guardiola and Jurgen Klopp.

The law was amended in 1990 to stipulate that players who were equal to defending were more than offside, such as the idea of ​​Jimmy Hill, the former Coventry player, chairman and Match of the Day presenter . In 1992 the rule was introduced to prohibit the back pass to the keeper, which directly leads to the high pressure that we see today. Before that, defending a 1-0 lead with a well drilled offside trap and multiple back passages for the keeper was fairly easy for a good team.

Pep Guardiola was stunned by the touchline and argued his case with Mauricio Pochettino

There were real debates at the time about whether football would lose its status as the No. 1 sport in the era of hooliganism and tragedies (it is important to note that these were unrelated phenomena: the first social issue, the latest outcome of greed and neglect). But the football on the field also got worse. That the revised offside law (1990) and the back-pass ban (1992) came just when the inaugural Premier League and Champions League seasons took place in 1992, means that there really is a split in ages in modern football, before and after 1992 Another key factor is tracing cheating in 1998, allowing Lionel Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo to thrive. All in all, football is now infinitely better, because those laws have adapted the game to attackers.

Yet the current technological dissection of offside means that we are now going back to the offside rule from before 1990. If you have level, which should be on the side, you are almost certainly offside in one way or another. Your armpit (as in Sterling & # 39; s case), nose, toe: something seems likely to be offside. And you can draw a line on TV that probably proves this. To be sure that he is on the sidelines because of the VAR, the striker must now really stand behind the defender, giving the defender the enormous advantage.

So what to do? We can leave the entire VAR experiment, but that seems unlikely. The quickest and easiest solution would be simple to get the & # 39; clear and obvious & # 39; apply criteria to the offside act. So you are not looking for a way to refuse a great goal; You only try to judge whether the assistant could reasonably have seen it. That's what happens in cricket, where Hawkeye shows the ball cutting the bail, the decision is considered so marginal that you go along with the referee's call. In this way neither the purpose of Jesus nor that of Lingard would be excluded. So you cannot dangle along your arm and steal the garden, but you can stay one step ahead of the defender. That would restore the intended benefit for the attackers.

Of course there will always be controversial decisions and you have to draw the line somewhere. But right now it is drawn in the wrong place and life becomes too easy for defenders. And frankly, it's not what football is all about in defending life, as Jimmy Hill acknowledged all those years ago]

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[alands9]

S2E15 Paradise

How did you get into Starfleet with such poor scores, O’Brien?

Jake can throw a curveball? That seems incredibly impressive. I was under the impression they're rather tricky.

You've been captured by Robin Hood and his merry men.

it occurs to me that it might be useful to have a protocol where if everybody in a ship beams down, if the ship doesn't get confirmation that you're in good shape every, say hourly, it tries to beam you back.

I hate fake drama when you start the credits or advertisements. Turns out, there was no danger or excitement at all.

I'm not entirely comfortable with a super white boy being named Vinod.

Why was their first response to new people to treat them as dangerous? I'm curious if that will be addressed, or if it was just for the sake of fake drama.

An “Erehwon” class transport? Really?

We're really ignoring the elephant on the mantelpiece. How did these people end up in the Gamma quadrant a decade ago? They haven’t mentioned blundering through a wormhole, and even if they did, that would suggest they were worryingly close to Cardassian space.

Your engines failed as you were landing? How did you survive?

Why exactly do you need walls to protect against the wilderness? What is out there?

Redirecting a Starfleet starship under false pretenses so that you can play in a poker game seems like a little bit of abuse of power, Admiral.

Who am I kidding, it's pretty clear that individual starships or run like little fiefdoms.

I would not expect you to be able to contact the Rio Grande on the other side of the wormhole. at least not without opening it. And even then I'm a little iffy on it.

“She says we have become fat and lazy and dull.” When was the last time you saw a fat Federation citizen? Even the scenes on Earth are mostly trim people. Lazy, I don't know, maybe. However there hell of a lot of people willing to start new colonies, and that sure as hell does not seem lazy.

it's generally agreed that humanity has significantly evolved over the previous few centuries? I would be a bit surprised at that. Once you reach a certain technological level, evolution gets really, really wonky.

Hypothesis: writer lady intentionally crash-landed the colonists’ ship here with the goal of forcing them to live without electrical technology. Many of the colonists will be very angry when this is revealed. She will attempt to stop them from leaving. There's a decided possibility that she created the environment that blocks technology.

Throwing away the technology seems daft. I would expect much of it to be reusable for more mechanical purposes, if only as a source of refined metals.

Yeah, advanced medicine is one of the niftier parts of technology.

There's an insect that transmits a deadly disease that you cannot treat? You should count yourself lucky you only lose someone every three or so years.

Yeah, she's totally afraid Sisko is going to reconnect with the ship.

Teah, people don't “follow me,” but I'm going to give you orders.

I would kind of hope that the Starfleet uniform was were made of something that breathed reasonably well, and thus made it suitable for warm environments. If not, I am disappoint.

Did I misunderstand, and they were exploring for M class planets on the near side of the wormhole? That seems a little baffling. Both Cardassia and the Federation have been exploring space. I would not expect there to be any unfound M class planets.

The plot thickens, the luddites can somehow send the ship away.

If replicators can't produce a reasonable copy of fresh made food, why the hell does everyone put up with them?

They have a hot box. And I'm pretty sure it's not used for a medical or even spiritual purpose. I'm pretty sure it's a torture tool for when someone “follows their hearts” in a way unacceptable to the leader whose not a leader.

To be fair, any desperate survival situation, harsh punishments for even minor theft might make sense.

That said, given the nature of the punishment, why the hell did he steal a candle?

It's been a decade. If the hot box was going to be a perfect tool for discouraging crime, it would have already worked.

I assume that when Kira and Dax find the runabout, it's travel history will have been wiped or scrambled or something.

I'm curious if Sisko is declining the woman's macking because he doesn't trust her, because he's uncomfortable with the entire situation, or he's just not interested in her.

Or, because he's concluded that the woman was sent to prostitute herself, and is totally not cool with that. That's a pretty good reason.

Really, leader lady thinks that some hot nookie will convince Sisko to abandon his entire life? She's not a good of a student of human nature she thinks she is.

Sisko sees what's going on.

“Look at you, wanting to get back to your station, with its artificial gravity and sterilized air.” And, you know, his son.

I'm not a leader, but now you're going to stand watch.

Also, I'm not sure standing watch qualifies as hard work. I believe generally it is tedious, mind-numbing work. To the extent that it is hard, the challenge is staying awake and focused.

If standing watches important (which raises its own questions) it's important enough to not have somebody work all freaking night. Otherwise, they're going to do a terrible job, at which point why bother?

I was under the impression that beaming from ship-to-ship at warp was incredibly dangerous.

Oh, Dax agrees.

Since you're one of the senior officers of the place where that ship is stationed, I would expect you to have override codes.

“A very talented Hopi I knew did things with a rope you wouldn't believe.” Is that what the kids are calling it these days?

Of course, we're solving a technical problem by way of bad analogy. Good old Star Trek.

Given the chance of ripping both the ships depart, trying to beam over seems less crazy.

So, really, the analogy to a rope trick was completely irrelevant and pointless.

Yeah, I suppose applying a tow rope as you pull something from beyond lightspeed to sub-light speed might apply a little bit of strain.

Making an unrelated act somehow “defile” someone's death. That is some Grade A political bullshiting there.

I was willing to let the scene featuring a black man being pressured into doing back-breaking work in the fields slide. It made a certain amount of narrative sense. But now we're punishing the black man for a made-up crime by putting him in a hot box. I know it wasn't their intention, but, seriously? This is literally a big enough deal that if I were writing this episode, I would have found reason to send someone else. Kira or Dax would have worked pretty well.

Well, Sisko, if you're going to do it, I would strip down to your skivvies first.

You probably should have had the actress practice with the pitcher a few more times. It's pretty clear she's never used it before.

Leader lady looks incredibly familiar. Has she played a one-shot role on Next Generation?

Iis changing into peasant clothes Sisko's four lights?

I see that O’Brien is hard at work lightly patting the ground.

is Sisko's defiance going to be the straw that breaks the cult’s back?

I'm guessing they never expected the writing on the inside of the hot box to be visible. Nothing particularly interesting. “Fill to Top Line.” While certainly something you expect to find in modern containers, I find it entirely plausible that science fiction boxes would say things like that.

You can painlessly knock someone out, O'Brien? I'm skeptical.

A freaking water compass will be good enough to identify the source of the magic technology interferer?

Whatever it is, it's got to be a pretty good build to have survived for a decade.

Good thing that soil is inexplicably loose.

Not only is it still working after a decade, the useless blinking lights are still working.

O'Brien gets to save the day.

“You'd be surprised how many scientists are sympathetic to my philosophies.” Indeed I would, seeing as your philosophies are against having access to the very science they do.

You can spin all you want, but that you've been lying to them for a decade is pretty damning.

Yeah, I wouldn't have gone into what these people might have been, leader lady. Because Meg would have been alive.

I just realized that she's a mad social scientist. That pleases me immensely.

You have room for all of them on the run about? If the community is that small, it was never going to be self-sustaining. You simply don't have the genetic mix you need.

“We found something here that none of us is willing to give up.” Speak for yourself, Chuckles.

I'm pretty sure the author intended for us to sympathize, and to think that yes, they formed a strong communit, so maybe something good did come of it. But an alternate interpretation is that they are brainwashed cultists, literally incapable of considering another viewpoint.

With a team, I once wrote a LARP with a mad social scientist. Their plan was just about as stupid as leader lady’s. They were just going to end the world as everyone knew it so that people could return to a more “natural” state. Hrm, that character did it just to see what happened. If I rewrite them to basically have the same motivation, to be a philosopher with an extreme viewpoint, that might make the game better. (The game is I.R.L., for the two dozen or so people who have played it.)