#i had a longer version of this earlier but deleted :)

[angelpuns]

I have spent all afternoon/night trying not to rot and I don't even know how to explain what that means but oh my god I'm so- urrgehfhrh I'm like- everything just feels so bad

[islesnucks]

𝓿𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓲𝓵 - Mathew Barzal x Reader

Summary: what started as an accidentall voicemial to your ex boyfriend ended up becoming routine and maybe even more TW: none that i can think of

Word count: 3.9k A/N: completely made up game schedule btw

Masterlist Add yoruself to the taglist if you wanna be notified when i post the fic!

-

“Hey, it’s Mat.” His voice echoed through the phone, so familiar yet strangely distant now. You’d heard him speak in interviews, but this was different. He was addressing you, or at least the voicemail version of you. “I can’t answer right now, so you know what to do.”

You didn’t know what to do. Calling your ex-boyfriend, the one you had broken up with months ago, wasn’t something you had exactly planned. Yet, when the acceptance email for the program you had worked tirelessly for arrived, the one he had witnessed you pour your heart into, he was the person you wanted to share it with. So that’s what you were doing, trying no to overthink it before nerves got the best of you.

“Mat, hi. This is so random—H-how are you?” Thank God he didn’t answer, you were a stuttering mess leaving a voicemail imagine if it had been him on the other end instead. “I got in! Into the program I mean. I don’t know why, but I wanted to tell you. You helped me so much before—” you cut yourself again. It didn’t feel right to mention the break up like that, but what could you say? Before I broke up with you? Before I stumbled out of your apartment leaving you behind without an explanation?

“Fuck it. I can’t do this.” You pulled your phone away from your ear and touched the red dot.

That’s it. He didn’t need to know, he probably wouldn’t even care. Who would want their ex to call to tell them they were doing great? That maybe after all the breakup was worth it because they had gotten into the program they had neglected their relationship for? Too long, right?

A second later, realization struck like lightning – you had ended the call before deleting the voicemail. It had been sent.

“Oh no, no, no!” you exclaimed, eyes widening in horror. There was no turning back. Mat would undoubtedly hear you stumbling over your words. Why couldn’t you have just left well enough alone? The last thing he needed was you barging back into his life with a pathetic voicemail about something he likely moved on from. ‘He probably already despises me after how everything unfolded, and now this’ you thought.

You were wrong, because no longer than 5 minutes after everything had gone down your phone was buzzing in your hand, Mat’s contact bright in the center as he now waited for you to pick up for a change.

“Mat.” you picked up.

“Hey. You called me?” He sounded confused, for very obvious reasons. Nevertheless it was nice to hear his voice now directed at you.

“Yeah, right. I left you a voicemail.” You rolled your eyes. At least you sounded less nervous than earlier on the voicemail, but it was not less embarrassing.

Mat’s voice came through, cool and collected. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t check. I just saw the missed call and, you know.”

“Sure, sure.” you replied, trying to sound half as calm as he seemed to be with the whole situation.

“Do you want me to hear it or …” his offer hovered in the air.

“No! I mean, I can tell you.” You cringed at the thought of him hearing your rambling voicemail. “So, I called because I just got the mail. I got into the program!”

“Shut up! That’s great! Congratulations!” Mat’s excitement burst through the line. Your heart melted a little. After everything that had happened he sounded genuinely happy for you.

“Thank you, Maty.”

Mat’s tone softened. “You deserve it, after all the hard work you put into it. I knew you’d get it.”

You chuckled, the tension easing. “I know, I know. You told me like a million times. I was just insecure.”

For a second you let yourself imagine this was under other circumstances. You were still together and he was calling you right after practice or from another city in one of his roadies. He’d come back home eventually and hug you so tight you wouldn’t be able to breath, probably lift you up and spin you around a little. You wouldn’t be able to stop laughing and-

“I know …” Mat’s response brought you back to reality. The reality in which he wouldn’t knock on your door with his arms wide open.

His tone carried an easy understanding. He definitely knew about your insecurities. They played a huge role on why your relationship was the way it was right now: nonexistent.

“So that’s what the voicemail said?” He broke the silence.

“Yeah, basically. But you know, all giddy and stuff. Really embarrassing.”

Mat’s laughter grew louder, and you could practically see him shaking his head. “Oh, really? Well, now I have to hear it.”

“No, no, no.” you protested, your embarrassment deepening. “Seriously, don’t Barzal. I know where you live.”

But Mat insisted, his curiosity piqued. “Come on! Embrace the cringe. It can’t be that bad.”

He ended the call before you could object anymore, only to call you back a minute later. Mat’s laughter erupted again as soon as you picked up, and you couldn’t help but join in, the shared humor dissipating the lingering awkwardness. If you closed your eyes you could almost picture him with that scrunched up nose as he laughed.

“The ‘fuck it, i can’t do this’ was the best part by far.”

-

The familiar buzz of the MSG postgame show filled the cozy confines of your living room as Mat’s name flashed brightly on your phone, catching you off guard. Shannon and Hickey were in full praise mode, replaying Mat’s epic goal on loop, and there he was, the main attraction, waiting on the other end of the line for you to pick up.

You fumbled for your phone, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips as you swiped to answer. “Hey, I didn’t expect your call.” you remarked, the commentator’s voices still ringing in your ears.

“Bad timing?” Mat’s voice crackled through the phone, a hint of breathlessness underscoring his words – probably still riding the adrenaline high from the ice.

“No, no. It’s just that a second ago you were on my screen falling all over the ice.” you teased, imagining his less-than-graceful moments on the rink.

“I don’t fall that much!” he argued, sounding mildly offended.

“You do, but you also score, so it’s forgiven. Congrats on your almost hatty, by the way.” You chuckled, knowing how much he loathed falling a goal short. Always so hard on himself. 

Mat scoffed, clearly annoyed at missing the mark. “So, you watched tonight?”

“Obviously, I watch every game I can catch.” you replied, the excitement of the game still coursing through your veins. The thrill of watching Mat succeed, even from a distance, even after all that happened, was undeniable.

“You should come, you know. I’m sure the girls would love to see you.” Mat suggested, his voice tinged with a hint of longing.

“I don’t know, Mat. It’s not my place anymore.” you hesitated, letting the uncertainty hang in the air. You had to change the subject before your mind started spiraling.  “Anyway, why did you call?”

“Oh, right. I listened to your voicemail again!”

“So you called to tell me you haven’t actually deleted it like you promised?”

“I heard it right before the game and got 2 goals and 2 assists. I think it’ll become my new pregame ritual, honestly.” Mat admitted, his voice softer now, laced with a hint of nostalgia. Why had he chosen to hear it? That’s something he would save for himself for now. The shared memories of your past flitted between you, unspoken but palpable.

“Really? Want me to send embarrassing voicemails before every game?”

“I’d love it. Yes, please.” Mat replied with a laugh, the warmth of his laughter washing over you like a comforting embrace. The playful banter held a certain intimacy, a bridge between past flames and the uncharted territory of what lay ahead.

The banter flowed seamlessly, a blend of shared history and the current moment. The familiarity was comforting, but the unspoken complexities of your past lingered in the air, a delicate tension.

-

NYI vs. TBL - November 5th

“Hey, Barzy. I don’t know if you were joking or not but here’s your pregame embarrassing voicemail as solicited. You weren’t serious, right? Well fuck it, enjoy it or ignore me whatever.”

NYI vs. CGY - November 7th

“Just walked past that coffee shop where we had our third or fourth date I think. Remember how you choked over your latte when I lied and said I loved the Rangers?”

NYI vs. SEA - November 9th

“Hey, you won’t believe who I just saw. That guy that lives in the building across the street, the one that has your face tattooed on his left arm. He asked about you, told me to wish you good luck. So good luck from him … and from me. Good luck tonight.”

NYI vs. VAN - November 11th

“Hi! Your sister told me your family is going tonight, so send them a kiss from me, ok? … I-I keep in touch with her, I don’t know if you knew that or like maybe I should’ve told you? Are you ok with that? I’m sorry I just assumed you would be. Anyway, good luck! Say hi from me! Or don’t if you don’t want to-”

NYI vs. NYR - November 16th

“Dude. Rangers tonight. Don’t mess it up. May have bet on you guys with a guy from work, I don’t wanna have to pay for his lunch tomorrow. Please. Good luck, 13.”

NYI vs. PIT - November 18th

“Shit, shit, shit. Hope you can hear this before the game. I’m still getting used to the program’s schedule and all of that, I’m kind of a mess right now. Anyway, good luck!”

NYI vs. DET - November 20th

“Maty, hi! I know this is kind of dumb because I saw you like 10 minutes ago and I’m in the building but still thought I should leave the voicemail just in case. (Come on!) Ok I have to go, Sydney has a tone of gossip to catch me up on. Good luck!”

NYI vs. DAL - November 23th

“Hello Mr Barzal, I won’t be able to watch tonight, but still good luck! Even if you don’t win, I hope you score a goal, make an assist. That 8 game point streak you have going on is insane. I think I’ll start charging you for this if they are working so well.Good luck Barzy!”

NYI vs. STL - November 26th

“Hey! First of all, good luck! Second, I left my scarf at the Lee’s last night. It’s red, I was wearing it when you picked me up. Grace said Anders would give it to you tonight. Maybe we can meet for coffee tomorrow so you can give it back? Anyway, good luck!”

NYI vs. CHI - November 28th

“13, hello! I don’t have anything funny to tell you today so just good luck! Love you- shit, sorry. Habit I guess. Bye.”

NYI vs. NYR - November 30th

“You have zero new voicemails. To record a new personal greeting press one-”

-

You tried everything to get your mind off it, but it wasn’t working. The cup of tea was now cold in your hand and you couldn’t even pretend to care what was going on in the movie you had playing on your tv. The game had ended an hour ago but it was on replay in your mind.

It was silly to think it was your fault. You couldn’t influence the score of the match, the 5-1 loss against the Rangers wasn’t on you. However the outcome would’ve been different if their starplayer hadn’t been taking stupid penalties, losing the puck, causing turnovers. That could be on you partially.

The bell ringing caught you by surprise, almost dropping the cold tea. You got up to answer, even though you had a feeling you knew who was waiting by your building’s door.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.” The familiar voice needed no introduction.

“Mat? What are you doing here?” 

“Buzz me in.” he requests, and you could practically hear the determination in his tone. With a resigned sigh, you pressed the buzzer, knowing full well he wouldn’t leave until he got what he came for.

A few moments later, a knock sounded at the door, and you found yourself face to face with him. Determination was bright in his eyes, your heart started racing.

“What’s going on?” He rolled his eyes, clearly not impressed by your attempt at pretending not to know why he’s there.

“You didn’t leave a voicemail.” Mat strided in without waiting for an invitation, and the unspoken tension was palpable.

“Right, that. I guess I forgot. Sorry.” you lied, trying to sound convincing but knowing there’s no use, he’d know. You closed the door behind him almost instinctively, as if shutting out the forthcoming emotional storm that’s about to break in your apartment.

“You’ve been sending me a voicemail before every single game for the past month.” he remarked, his gaze keenly picking up on your avoidance. Frustration started to take over. He already had been in this position before, begging you for explanations and all you did was look away. “Please, don’t shut me out. Not again.”

“I got confused, okay? Why are we doing this? I’m your ex-girlfriend, I broke up with you, Mat. And now I’m going to your games and sending you voicemails every game? What even is this?”

At some point you started walking all over the living room, the distress was clear. Mat was better at hiding it, he stood still by the door like he had been since he walked in, but you could see his hands fidgeting. Neither of you had a clear head to take on what was about to come, chaos was inevitable.

“I don’t know, but I thought you liked this. I thought it was like an inside joke, our own thing.”

“It was that. But you’re not supposed to have that with your ex.” you said, trying to emphasize the last word for him, as if a reminder of your status would help the situation in any way. 

“We’re friends?” He furrowed his brows, and, had it not been for the situation you were in, you would’ve laughed at the way even he sounded so unsure of what he was saying.

“Mat, come on. It’s confusing, I know I was getting confused. It started with the voicemails, which was already something, but then we’re talking every day, I’m going to your games again and team’s gatherings, we’re hanging out again. I said ‘I love you’ on my last one!” You finally looked at him, baring it all. There was only one solution in your mind and it had to be taken no matter the pain it would undoubtedly cost you. “I think it’s better if we stop.”

There was a moment of silence, he looked at you as if trying to read through the wall you were hiding behind. Trying to decipher if it was you speaking or your insecurities had taken over again. Most importantly, trying to figure out if this time he had what it took to get to you before he lost you.

“I don’t want it to stop.” he said, determination clear in his voice. In a second he closed the gap between you. The proximity caught you off guard, you couldn’t remember the last time you were this close. “Tell me you don’t feel anything.” It sounded almost like a beg, but he didn’t care.

“We broke up.” you insisted, trying to sound all resolute.

“You broke up with me.” he corrected you, his gaze holding steady, slicing through your defenses.

“We weren’t working, Mat! We could barely see each other, and when we did, we were too tired or stressed. We fought a lot. We broke up.” It sounded almost childish the way you stubbornly persisted on it, like you needed to reassure yourself more than him how things had played out last time.

“Couples fight sometimes; it’s normal. I was stressed about the playoffs, and you were stressed about getting into the program. It was a bad moment, yes, but that’s over.”

“Other problems are gonna come up.”

“We can face them together, we fight and make up. That’s it, that’s how couples work.”

You paused for a second, it made no sense to keep on repeating yourself. It seemed like he had a solution for every obstacle you presented. He had come here for answers, it was time to give them to him even if you were answering older already forgotten questions.

“I was scared, Mat. I was scared and insecure, and it felt like I was ruining it all.” Tears start rolling down your face and there’s nothing he wants more than to hug you, keep you close to his chest, push the pain away; but he knows he shouldn’t. You’re finally letting down your guard, telling him what he’s been dying to hear for months; he has to give you space to be vulnerable. “I thought it was better to break things up before they got really nasty.” your voice wobbled.

“I get it, I really do. But you could’ve told me and I should’ve been more present, not left you alone to deal with our problems. We could’ve tried to make it work. ” He looked deep into your eyes, his own reflecting a mix of understanding and unwavering love. “I know I loved you more than enough to work through it.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry about how I ended things, and I’m sorry about the voicemail and all the mess I’ve caused.” You tried to walk away from him, the proximity being too much, but he caught your arm making you face him once again.

Tears started streaming down his face as you tried to grapple with the weight of your own decisions. He looked you in the eyes, the determination from earlier is still there, even behind the tears those glossy eyes told you he wasn’t gonna leave in silence like last time. This time he had to leave it all out, even if he ended up hurt in the process.

“When you first called me I was too nervous to answer so I let it go to voicemail. I think even then I knew it wasn’t over for me, I knew hearing your voice would bring it all back.” You winced, acutely aware of the emotional turmoil you’ve caused. What you didn’t know was he wasn’t worried about pain coming back; what worried him was all the love he had for you and had pushed away after the break up coming back and once again not having where to put it.

“But then I wanted to hear you, the real you, not the voicemail, so I called you. I cannot tell you how happy it made me to hear you, like my heart was beating again after months of numbness. And you were telling me this great news, when you got that acceptance letter you wanted to tell me.” he continued, and you released a heavy breath, a half-smile forming on your face. He was right, the first person you wanted to share your triumph with was him, you hadn’t thought much about it back then but no it was so clear.

“I replayed your voicemail before the game that first time because I wanted to hear your voice. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until I heard you over the phone earlier that day, and all I wanted was to hear you again talking to me.” he confessed, a mixture of vulnerability and longing in his words. “At first I thought maybe I was making it up, you know? Maybe it was just my unresolved feelings, maybe there was nothing going on. But you called me first and then you kept on sending the voicemails. Things were going back to the way they were before. It felt like I was me again, like we were us again.”

Mat smiled thinking how everyone could notice; his friends, his teammates, his family, everyone could see the old Mat was back. He told them off, too afraid to consider you were all he was missing because he knew he didn’t have you back, not yet.

His hand gently cupped your face, sending a shiver down your spine. Closing your eyes, you leaned into his touch. You missed it, there was no denying it anymore. You missed it all too much—his touch, his voice, his energy, his very presence. Him.

“You said ‘I love you’ on the last voicemail. I replayed it like 20 times at least, just to hear those three words. From you, to me.” The weight of those three words hung in the air between the two of you after so long, it was electrifying. Your heart raced; he was about to say it, and you yearned to hear it.

“I love you.” he declared, and there was no ambiguity this time. It wasn’t a recall of your words; this time, it was his confession to you.

“Maty…” was all you managed to say; his nickname laden with tenderness and echoes of old fears that still lingered.

“I want this. I want you even if I can only see you two times a week and even if half that time you are studying or working or stressing over both. I want to be there with you. I want to fight and make up. I want all of it, the messy and ugly included.”

“I love you.” you finally whispered.

It was over. He loved you, you loved him, and there was nothing left to say.

In that breath-holding moment, he leaned down, his lips finally touching yours. It’s not just a kiss; it’s a wild ride through forgiveness, longing, and the silent agreement to dive back into the messy and the beautiful, hand in hand. He was smiling into the kiss, so were you. The taste of salt from their tears lingered, mingling with the sweetness of the moment. The kiss spoke of second chances and the magic of beginnings, a promise to rewrite the story that had once unraveled.

You pulled away, breathless and teary-eyed, yet a radiant joy painted across your faces. You laughed, a melody of relief and newfound hope. One of his hands was on your back as the other traveled from your face to the back of your head, pulling you against his chest. Your arms hugged his torso tight.

“I love you.” he mumbled against your head before placing a kiss on top.

-

NYI vs. MTL - December 1st

“Hey! Good luck tonight babe-”

“I don’t think it counts if I’m literally next to you when you record it.”

“Shush. Who’s the voicemail expert here? Me. Anyway, as I was saying before you interrupted me: good luck tonight, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

-

soooooo it’s here! hope you like it! like and reblogs are always appreciated!

it felt so good to write again and to share it too, hope i have more time this year to write more stuff

taglist:

@glassdanse @2manytabsopen @barbienoturbby @sweetlittlegingy @mcsteamylove98 @ttylfedora @chieflawyerpastatoad @iwantahockeyhimbo @fallinallincurls @jordiee95 @heatherawoowoo @barzysreputation @farabeezers @4ambagelbites @matwith1t @audryaho @maximoff-xmen @astrydis @joelsfarabees @bitchforbarzy @deloughrey @brias1201 @besthockeyfics @ya-pucking-nerd @hoiyheadharpies @mckenna4 @rosesvioletshardy @hockeyunits @siriusly-parker @ilyasorokinn @lam-ila @boqvistsbabe @theycallmecassie @ephemeral371 @hal3ynicol3 @angelblooddevil @besthockeyfics @beauvertime @picked-off-by-barzal @1316 @cherrygirl1229 @lunabean @random-readers-world @poufsouffle21 @barzysbaby @matbarzal13 @alwaysclassyeagle @wanbach23 @evaggreendaily

[wolfy1298]

Don’t you ever wonder what kind of secrets and plot points Venti keeps hidden? He claims to be the weakest amongst the Seven-and that could be true given his whole 500 year slumber and poison and all- but he’s still a god. AND one of the original Seven. You gotta be good at SOMETHING to survive for this long…

He’s also the only archon so far that doesn’t have a second story quest so what is he hiding?! We have accounts of him literally shaping the land with ease from both the Golden Apple Archipelago events and his character stories. We know that he has close relationships with the Hexenzirkel and somehow managed to avoid conflict with them??? And there’s also the fact from the skyward sword series that he was originally a catalyst user before picking up the bow in honor of Amos. He’s pulling a Childe when it comes to weapons he currently uses and the ones he’s proficient in.

And don’t even get me started on his connection with Istharoth and Celestia! Mondstadt already has the Thousands Winds Temple AND the nameless island where both Venti and Istharoth were once worshipped. And from Before Sun and Moon, we know that the Thousand Winds (which Venti IS A PART OF) were once called the Thousand Winds of TIME, all of whom were created and controlled by Istharoth. AND THEN you have Venti suspiciously appearing in the right place at the right time again and again and again. He even self proclaimed knowing every song: past, present, and future. Hell he’s probably one of the only few beings in Teyvat who can naturally bypass Irminsul because of his songs: Nahida already shown it’s possible to save deleted info if rearranged into fiction so the same should work for songs and poetry. And there’s also what the hydro fungus in Nahida’s second story quest said about changing forms. That you need time for growth to occur. And Nahida - an ARCHON- had trouble maintaining her fungus form for even the short period of time. She was even told that to do so for longer, one would need to bypass time itself which is near impossible. AND YET VENTI CHANGED INTO THE FORM OF HIS FRIEND IMMEDIATELY AFTER RECEIVING HIS GNOSIS AND HAS YET TO CHANGE BACK OR TIRE FROM FATIGUE (as we know it). HOW STRONG IS HE. Sure, the yokai in Inazuma and Adepti in Liyue can all change into a human form, but we know in game that it takes a long time and steady energy to take on a human shape, and the Adepti all seem to have that ability naturally: there’s no bending the laws of nature if it’s already natural to them. So what’s Venti’s excuse?!

As for Celestia: there’s already written in the statue of Barbatos “the gateway to Celestia” and what not. And Khanreia! In the chasm AND in the Caribert quest, Barbatos and Mondstadt keep getting named dropped. According to Dainself, the city in the chasm is supposedly OLDER than Khanreia and possibly the Seven, yet BARBATOS of all beings is mentioned in the records you find??? And in Caribert, it’s a Mondstadtian woman who that one bloke had a child with. Never mind that Mondstadt is where Kaeya and Albedo - the two characters with confirmed Khanreian origins- end up! There’s also the fact that Khanreia seems to base its gods and names and whatever around Norse mythology….which has strong ties to GERMANIC HISTORY. WHICH MONDSTADT IS BASED OFF OF. And Enkanomiya, which was once ruled by Istaroth, is Greek origin. Suspicious considering all the connections to HERMES Venti keeps portraying. (And then there’s also a connection to all three places with the hexenzerkel with their Chinese names? Like I think I read somewhere that Alice is Aries(?)/Eris(?) and Nicole is actually Nike in the Chinese version? Which are very much based in Roman/Greek origins)

Oh and something I forgot to mention earlier with the whole Istharoth connection. Mondstadt’s saying “seeds of stories, brought by the wind, and cultivated through time”. SUSPICIOUS

Anyways, this has been my nonsensical Venti theory rant

And you’re stuck with me @worldsokayestmagicalgirl

[lottes-little-place]

Welcome to the big Kitchen & Bath Interior Design Stuff part 3! The grand finale! (Kitchen & Bath Interior Design Stuff required for everything)

Part 1 is found here (custom island colors) and part 2 is found here (custom cluedo colors).

A complete list of all that's defaulted can be found here in part 1. I couldn't get defaults for the Rip Co. Little Baker Oven's four extra colors to work because they conflict with the CEP, so I didn't make those.

This last part brings default options for the recolors I've made. You can choose between Cluedo and Island Colors. The Island Colors palette only has 5 colors while this set has 7 in total (not for all items) so I've added Cluedo Black and White for the items with 7 default colors (most of the appliances). Look at the pictures to see which colors replace which. I've kept it the same for all of the items, so your kitchen won't look like a clown's kitchen in seven different colors when you put the default files in or out.🤡

The only exception is the Solid Sense Fridge in Island Colors. I've replaced the sand and bamboo (dark brown) colors with Island Yellow and Coral instead of Cluedo White and Black. Otherwise it would only have 2 Island Colors and it is a default for Island Colors after all.

I've included all the extra recolors from part 1 and 2 that are not covered by the default files, so you won't have to download the custom recolors from that palette. Or, if you've already downloaded them, you can delete the respective folder. There is also a new default version of the Super Sucker Vent Cluedo default I've already done earlier, so if you had the previous one, keep only one! (The new one has Scarlet and Plum instead of Peach and Grey to match this set.)

Choose one!

Download (Cluedo defaults)

Download (Island defaults)

I've also included a default file for clear glass/plastic for the Carrot Chopper Deluxe, so it no longer looks blueish. If you just want the clear glass but not the rest of the defaults, just download this separate file.

Download (clear glass for Carrot Chopper Deluxe)

[agoddamn]

What I strongly suspect is that the "Warframe Insurrections" are actually a retcon and much of the previous information we've had about the Night of the Drums and the Stalker is about to be deleted and rewritten with the Jade Shadows update.

That's the biggest problem with the Stalker, after all. His backstory is ancient and designed for a much older version of the story which had a rather different vision.

The Stalker being not a frame and just a guard who simped so hard for the Orokin that he wants revenge on the Tenno (and also he dresses like Excal for no particular reason) no longer fits a game where the Orokin are unambiguously evil.

In earlier iterations of the text, the Orokin were implicitly authoritarian but we didn't have the detail we have now about extremes like Ballas's behavior or the torturous process involved in creating the Warframes. Back then you had to seriously dig for the Synthesis Imprints that showed the cruelties of the Orokin. They were mysterious rather than completely, blatantly evil.

If they want to do a Stalker story at all, his history needs to be either extensively explained as indoctrination with an emotional angle (in which case his regular battles would make you the bad guy) or totally rewritten. I'm guessing that they're picking the second one.

[baxterstockmanisthecenterfold]

old follower from when you were Baxterstockmanismyson, why'd you delete your old blog? What made you come back?

I pretty much explained why here

But to some it up basically, I was just sick of the harassment & constant hateful responses my friends & I Myself would receive almost daily because of the most simple opinions.

Hell I actually remember this one time I was making a rant about 2012 Stockman's character mishandling & I brought up the Rise turtles for 2 seconds & even made a stupid joke about how I'm surprised no one accused the 2012 ones of racial profiling & this one user took it so seriously they harassed me & my followers the rest of the day

I also can't help but find this bit from them ironic considering they could have did the exact same thing with my post & followers.

This isn't even a one time thing too. As I just said. The fandom would just take EVERYTHING too seriously & attack anybody that disagreed with them in any shape or form & a lot of my best friends at the time were victims of cyberbullying because of them including me. Yes I could have ignored them, & most days I did tbh, but every once in a while there was always that one miserable person that just wanted to PERSONALIZE their attacks to me just because I said I didn't like Apriltello or something & they made their insults PERSONAL, to the point where I couldn't help but NOT ignore it. I already suffer from Anxiety and Depression & EXTREMELY low self esteem to the point where I second guess my talents. From my art to my appearance to even questioning why I still exist. If I should even STILL exist.. At that point in 2021 when I deactivated Baxterstockmanismyson I had already been going through enough stressful situations in my life, worrying about a ton of real life personal stresses in my life. And the unnecessary bullying from the fandom consisting of grown ass adults mind you was the last thing I needed. I had actually received yet another hateful message in my askbox because of one of my hot takes the day before I deactivated & it honestly fucked me up majorly so it was the last straw. I deactivated & I overall QUIT & Left the fandom entirely ever since, I just didn't see the point in staying anymore when there's little to zero good memories in it.

I would be lying if I didn't say I did miss some aspects. The one thing I missed the most being Baxter himself. Any version of him. Especially considering he's actually the entire reason I even got into TMNT in the first place (but a story for another time). He's beyond my favorite character, he's my comfort one, my boy ever since I was 12. Then Mutant Mayhem was announced along with the fact that Baxter was in it (& played by FUCKING Giancarlo Esposito) my interest was peaked to say the least. Especially after I found out he looked like this

I'd even say it was honestly the only reason why I saw the movie (even if he was only in it for 4 minutes) which I admit even outside of Baxter, I did end up enjoying it. It was also nice to talk about tmnt again to my Girlfriend & a once mutual friend at the time. Just making it our own personal bubble having zero contact with the fans, especially as I saw literally NOTHING changed just by people's reactions to Mutant Mayhem April smfh. So I assumed it was the right choice.

Another year went by. Things are different once again, that mutual friend I mentioned earlier is...no longer our friend.. and it was back to radio silence in terms of anything turtle related. I had started collecting figures at this point in time & with the release of Human 1987 Baxter & Mirage on the way, I figured it wouldn't hurt to FINALLY add Baxter to my shelf like I always wanted to years ago. Even finally start making custom figures for him that don't exist & it was a fun, exhausting but also therapeutic experience in a way. Especially getting the chance to finally look back at the mad scientist all the way from day one. From schulpting, to talking about him & even looking up other perspectives on him. Even if it was mostly misconceptions like always when it comes to him. And it got to the point where I wanted to let out an outlet to just really let out Stockman talk & facts about the guy that no one knew or already did but with a story behind it. Even taking inspiration from AskSpideypool's @ sciderman & their blog being the most dedicated blog to really get & understand Wade Wilson & Peter Parker with pages worth of history to back up the knowledge. It's honestly how I feel with Baxter Stockman if I'm being legit with you. So about maybe 3 months later or so, I decided to create this new blog, a new start. A blog to just really share & show all I know about Baxter & even find other people that feel the same way. Just a little Baxter bubble that I can have & feel safe in. It's also why you noticed I haven't shared NON Baxter stuff on here yet. To put it short. I'm not really back in the TMNT fandom. Sure I'll post about Baxter Stockman. But that's the ONLY thing I'll go as far as posting. I wasn't too far off when I said I only watched MM for Stockman & the fact that the fandom hasn't changed their ways based on MM April's reception.

I want absolutely nothing to do with the fandom's drama or possible drama the second I step into current TMNT events & I share my thoughts on them even if I had thoughts anyway, I honestly don't really care anymore aside from Baxter.

To sum it up: Unless it involves Baxter, I genuinely don't give a shit. So a heads up if I'm ever asked about something non Stock related like my thoughts on this video game or this ship ect I'm gonna ignore it. I just don't have the mental strength for the drama anymore. And it's not like the fandom itself even cares about Baxter let alone care enough to get mad over a hot take about him which I've yet to see (aside from some 30/40 something year old idiots on Instagram & Twitter that genuinely believed he was always a white guy & him being black is new) so I feel safe in my Stockbubble.

Anyway, hope that clears things up. Both why I left & how this new blog works.

[drunkenskunk]

Earlier in the year, I deleted my deviantart account.

I did this because they were going all-in on AI theft bullshit, and I wanted no part in it. And I'm pretty sure I know what you're thinking: big deal, right? And on some level, I kinda get it. It was a deviantart page, who cares, nothing of value was lost.

Despite that, I do remember going through most of my entire account, and trying to save a backup of whatever I could, just in case, y'know? I saved almost everything, before deleting every individual piece, and then once the entire account was empty, I fully deleted the account. I did everything I could think of to avoid letting the idiots running that site into the ground scrape what little I had for their fucking theft algorithm.

But there were a few things that I forgot to save. I had a few fanfics that I had posted there. The big one was the entirety of the New Vegas fanfic that I wrote over the course of 5 years. 174 chapters, just under a million words, it's notable in that it's the only project that I've ever actually finished to completion.

But the thing is: that wasn't actually lost. I have the entirety of that story, including several earlier versions, saved on my hard drive. According to the file properties, it's 50mb, and 1376 individual files. And not only that, but the "mirror" of that story is also still preserved in public with my account on fanfiction dot net.

But there were a few other stories that, in my haste, I forgot to save. And, again, it's a case of "Who cares?" because they were short, almost one-shot, fanfics based on the characters I played... in World of Warcraft.

Sheason Fisher and Tuera Ashama were my rogue and warlock characters, respectively, and I wrote a lot of short stories involving the two of them. Snapshots of this extended cat-and-mouse espionage game of super-spy versus super-villain, with a backdrop of whatever drama was going on with the RP guild I was part of at the time.

Thing is, the reason I didn't think to save them while scrubbing my deviantart account was because I assumed that I already had them saved somewhere. But recently, I went through some of my files, looking for something else entirely, when I suddenly realized: no.

They're not there.

All these things that I wrote about these characters that have existed in my head since at least 2005, and it's all just... gone. It's like all the stuff I wrote on warcraft guild forums for those characters - back when forums were still a thing - and which now no longer exist, because not only do all those RP guilds no longer exist, the forums themselves no longer exist. And I never thought to preserve what I wrote.

I kinda remember what most of the stories were about, vaguely. I kinda remember the general idea of the one-shots I'd written. But the actual words I wrote at the time? They have vanished. I could probably rewrite some of those old stories, and they'd probably be a lot better now. After all, I'd like to imagine that I'm a much better writer today than I was 10, 15, 20 years ago...

But the originals are still lost.

It wouldn't be the same.

I know this probably seems like I'm being overly dramatic, and I'm fretting over pointless bullshit. And, yeah, on some level, I acknowledge that I kind of am. But... still.

It's reminding me of just how ephemeral existence is. Moments happen, and then they're gone.

The only evidence that any of these events ever happened at all is my failing memory.

And, eventually... even that will disappear.

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 3

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia

Synopsis:  When falling in love is the easy part where does the difficulty lie? In a society where we’re defined by our job, it’s those little details as a relationship goes on that ends up setting a course for whether or not a couple can make it in the long run.

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

You were not going to let him get away with dropping what could almost be a relative confession like that. At least, not until after work when you had the time to harass him about it.

You: So…

Rolling over from where you had collapsed on your couch you watched as predictably the message was read and no response came. You’d resigned yourself to a fight earlier in the day after deciding to press the issue, but a part of you could always dream.

You: Are we going to talk about how you ran away?

You chewed your bottom lip as the little read check mark appeared. You tried to picture what he was up to. Glancing to the nearby windows, you spied the last vestiges of twilight waning orange. When your attention returned to your device you saw the response bubbles percolating.

He must have written and deleted several versions because the one he landed on seemed far too short for the amount of time it took.

Donatello: Laughable.

You giggled to yourself. Not that you’d been able to indulge in it, but texting removed the usual bearings in an interesting way. Where in real life you had to hope you caught his micro expressions, his texts would be stuck on display for longer analysis.

You: I’m glad we agree!

You: Though I’m laughing at how cute it was that you got embarrassed

Again the check came and this time the bubbles appeared instantly. The pot was essentially stewing.

Moving to sit up, you wondered how he’d handle the stripped down context. He was obviously drafting something, but he must have realized the same as you that this type of conversation was far easier to abandon. Frowning and worrying that you might have pushed a little too hard, your stomach clenched as a reply came.

Donatello: I see what you’re doing.

You: Oh? I don’t consider this breaking the ‘no frivolous’ texts rule because it’s important to me

He saw it and you curled up into yourself. You’d spent most of the public transit ride home thinking of all the little contingencies he might use to get out of a conversation. Obliviously you had no real remedy if he chose not to respond, but you’d tried to prepare for anything else he could lob your way.

Donatello: For the time being you may exploit the loop hole, but only due to my lack of oversight.

“Just admit you like me.”

You gave a breathy sigh and pulled your device to your chest. A shred of you still wondered, but for the most part you were sure he was interested in some way. His staunch nature prevented absolutes and there was always a chance you were conning yourself, but even the fact that he was indulging these messages seemed to point in your preferred direction. Where that road ultimately lead you hadn’t given much thought, but the fizzy soda excitement was a high you were happy to chase.

You: Should I expect a contract at tomorrow’s lunch?

Donatello: Be prepared to sign in triplicate.

You blew you a puff of air into a smile. With him a line like that could both be a joke and deadly serious. You imagined him pulling out a briefcase and removing large daunting stacks of paper. He’d make for the world’s most annoying lawyer.

You: I’ll bring my embossed pen

You: Back to the original topic though…

Donatello: I’d rather discuss the pen.

You: I’ll share all the juicy details after

You: Spoiler alert: the engraving isn’t what you’d think!

Donatello: In other words, not your name.

You: Elevator explanation first

With your phone balancing on your knee you watched as he again hitched the conversation between intermediary dotted lines. You wondered if this kind of loading screen would be a good real world comparison for the time it took to him formulate verbal conversation. Staring fondly at the screen you dismissed it only because surely that mind of his cycled through so many more possibilities than you could fathom which meant a loading screen as a pathetic comparison.

Donatello: What exactly are you hoping for?

Wasn’t that the million dollar question.

You had a strong sense of the matter at hand and had even voiced your desires aloud just a few moments ago, but there was an undeniable unknown quality to the whole thing.

It had only been two days.

The time frame deflated your otherwise impenetrable smile.

That’s what was holding you up. Unfurling, your phone lowered with your legs and you watched it lull to sleep. The crush exhilaration had shrouded your mind in tittering hormones that made for a high chasing addiction. As much as you wanted to know everything about him, in reality there was no rush. Something so simple seemed like a sobering revelation.

Glancing over your shoulder at the kitchen, you wondered how he’d handle it if you passed on a slapdash response in favor of eating. Meals were quite high on the list of mind clearing activities and would give you a chance to compose something that wasn’t based on pure instinct.

Setting your phone on the arm rest, you stood and moved to the fridge. Taking your time would also shift the tone of the conversation. Grabbing the handle to the ice box, you opened it so its cold air washed over you in time with your second epiphany of the evening.

You didn’t want this to end after two more sandwiches.

Exchanging the freezer door for the fridge proper, you pulled out some leftovers. As odd as he seemed, you craved more. Trying to part the giddy fog in your mind, you set up a mental pros and cons list as you warmed your food. On one hand there had been a few undeniable red flag actions, he was exhaustively closed off, you knew next to nothing what he did outside of getting lunch, and he held vice grips on conversations in a dauntingly manipulative manner.

With a poke you checked if your food was warm enough. The lukewarm response said no, so you popped the dish back into the microwave and the newly sauced digit into your mouth.

Other the other hand he was handsome, mysterious, he’d exhibited multiple times that he was capable of concern or remorse, his vigilante watch translated as attentive, and he’d even been protective over a perceived threat.

Your microwave reminded you it was done and you retrieved the food. The plate stung your finger tips and you set it on the counter to watch the steam roll off.

If you thought about either list for too long, you noticed how each tick skewed the line. For his protection, he’d also taken a worrying satisfaction in scaring another human being. Where he refused to talk about himself cropped up the alluring unknowns. His staunch control issues were what lead to him needing to make amends in the first place.

You leaned over to pop a drawer open to grab cutlery. Once outfitted, you pinched the cooler edges of your plate and transported your dinner to the same spot on the couch. Collapsing into its relenting cushions, your phone lit up and read no new notifications. You flipped it over with one hand and then sought the remote. Whatever app the TV was last on buzzed to life and you let it run with listless curiosity as you took your first bite.

All of this back and forth was nothing unheard of though. Though the serial killer conversation had been partially a joke, there was an undeniable game that had to be played whenever you tried to puzzle a new person into your life. No two people were perfectly made for the jigsaw, but time snapped the piece together regardless as long as they were a close enough match.

A few more bites and your stomach was already feeling warm.

Maybe the puzzle metaphor wasn’t the best.

A personality buzzed about something on the television and you found it caught your attention. Between the video and hearty chews, you felt your resolve stabilize. By the time your plate was clean you’d even found that a tapestry was a much better analogy and even had ancient roots in the fates. Setting your plate aside of a coffee table, you snatched up your phone.

You: I guess you could say your little stunt made me wonder if we should reexamine our current contract

Donatello: Which terms do you not find agreeable?

You tilted your head as you read the question several times over.

You: The length

Though it was by your hand, you found it frustrating that you’d accidentally put yourself into another veiled conversation.

Donatello: Elaborate.

A little surprised hum escaped your throat.

It was almost as if he’d thought the exact same thing.

You certainly weren’t going to waste a chance to make the conversation definite.

You: I’ll just say it then

You: If I’m wrong though, don’t rub it in. I’ll be torturing myself enough

You watched his response stew and quickly typed out a few nonsense letters so your own to signal him that you weren’t done. It took a moment, but his disappeared and you cleared the text to start anew.

You: I think you’re interested in me too, but there’s been mixed signals

Your heart was beating so fast your blood pressure waned in your ears.

You: It was that look you gave me

You watched the quiver in your thumbs as you typed.

You: Would you want to keep seeing each other after you move on to the next sandwich quadrant?

You gave a shaky smile at the ridiculous terms this whole thing was perched upon.

You watched as a read receipt appeared and you tapped the cursor off the text bar to signal the end of your clarification. Your chest felt heavy and you brought one hand up to press your sternum in a pathetic attempt to release the pressure.

Not even his typing notification appeared.

Nerves already frayed, your mind went into overdrive.

Reading back over your texts you winced at the one about not rubbing it in.

Had that not been clear enough?

Mind split right down the middle, your thumbs flew back to your keyboard. For each satisfactory letter that was typed out an equal part of your brain screamed at you for doing so.

It was so much easier to blurt these things out in real time.

You: The nature of which doesn’t have to be specified. Just,

You cursed aloud as when you moved to edit the comma placement, you’d sent the unfinished text.

Staring at it harshly, the fight or flight warped leaving you unsure of what you’d wanted to clarify at all. Coming down, it took over a minute for you to realize the check mark hadn’t appeared. You lowered your screen instinctually. He wasn’t actively in the chat anymore. Putting your device to sleep, you leaned over and set it next to your plate. It wasn’t that strange as you’d left him in a similar manner when you’d made your dinner. Still, you could feel your blood moving through your veins so you desperately palmed the remote for a suitable distraction. You forced yourself to sit through a 27 minute video before you allowed yourself to pick up your device.

You nearly dove for it as the personality on TV recommended something else.

Suddenly in a surprise juggle with your device, the blurry notification disappeared as you mistakenly clicked it. You watched the screen temporarily black out before coming fully to life in the text window.

Donatello: I should have expected two days wouldn’t be enough time to improve one’s taste.

Half on and half off the couch from the phone debacle, you squinted at the message.

It somehow feel perfectly in line with what you expected while being nothing at all what you anticipated.

It was also fascinating how he seemed to take something that should be self-depreciating and make it seem like an insult to the other party.

That party being you, of course.

You: I’ll have you know I gave it a lot of thought. I made a pros and cons list and everything

Donatello: Your data collection capability is abysmal. Have you even considered your sample size or standard deviation? 

You: Nope. Want to teach me?

That was truly terrible.

You laughed to yourself.

The way his response bubble appeared and popped multiples times either meant that line had miraculously worked or he was also seized with the comedy of it all.

There were surely more options than that, but you preferred to consider only those two.

Donatello: Ever presumptuous, tenuous, and ludicrous.

You stared as an even bigger smile spread on your face.

You typed out your next text.

With a thumb hovering over the send button you considered how badly this next statement could go.

You had a feeling it wasn’t in your favor, but there was just something about the three adjectives that he had sent.

You gave a single chuckle and slammed your screen with an audible tap.

You: Funny, I believe it was you who gave me your number of your own accord

He left you on read.

-

You didn’t necessarily regret your choice.

However, you didn’t really love it either.

As lunch loomed eerily close, you checked your bag from under your desk for what must have been the hundredth time. Every time your heart surged not with tempered hope, but fear that your boss would catch wind. The last thing you needed was that guy adding anymore undue stress. That aside, there was still the unmistakable possibility that you had messed up your chance. It definitely stung, but it also wouldn’t be the end of days.

You had only known him two days.

Giving a little sigh, you tucked your bag back into its slot. Deciding you might as well get some semblance of work done, you brought up several useful screens and moved to tack the time away on your keyboard. You’d gotten into a groove when you heard two employees pass with lunch curiosities on their lips. Checking the time said you could slip away with minimal complaint and, even though your plans were still up in the air when you’d left this morning, you’d still kept your docket open just in case. With a final glance to make sure all work was in order, you swiveled in your chair. Catching your bag in the motion, you got to your feet and headed for the elevator.

Pulling your phone out was almost an afterthought as you debated what to get.

At least, that’s what you told yourself when you saw the notification preview faultily clip an image.

You scarcely heard the elevator arrive and stepped back so no one would hold it for you. Against the opposite wall, you opened the message and stared at it curiously.

Donatello had simply sent a screenshot receipt of a sandwich purchase. Clicking it larger, it read the ever present specifications he’d deemed standard. It also had a sum of two sandwiches so he was presumably going to be in attendance. The payment information had been specifically cropped out, but the header for the shop read its address. Tempering your excitement, you flipped back and forth to type it out in your map app. It was predictably nearby so you stepped forward to push the elevator button.

The trek down and lunchtime rushed streets swept you to the location with little time to overthink. You spied his hulking black coated form through the window and slipped through the door with a pleasant chime announcing your entry. You glanced up at the little bell before heading over to Donatello.

His shoulders held staunch as he passed you only a glance before continuing to stare at the pick-up counter. For a moment you let him continue his oddly petty act before rolling on the balls of your feet and prodding your inner cheek with your tongue.

He hadn’t outright rejected you, but something was definitely off.

The overwhelming desire to poke the bear superseded concern.

If you were already in hot water, might as well take a bath.

“You really streamlined the process of asking someone out.”

Already staring at him, you caught the flicker of recognition in his eye before his pupil nearly rolled. When his gaze landed on you, he seemed to note that you had seen the move and flattened out his expression.

“My other line was something about how it’s presumptuous to just buy someone lunch without asking.”

“You’re overanalyzing.”

You rose up on the tips of your toes to get his full attention. He parted it as you entered his personal space and you did your best impression of his patented look.

His jaw flexed as if he grit his teeth though no pearly whites shined through.

“We’ll discuss it while we eat.”

You gave a curious hum that was cut off when an employee set a sack on the counter. Donatello was in motion before the employee could depart and strung a finger through the bag’s handle. He then followed through by turning to the dining room and going straight to a table. You watched his departing form for a moment and couldn’t help but imagine how he must have thought all this through while he was waiting.

How much earlier than his pick-up time had he arrived?

You followed him languidly and made a show of taking a seat. He slid your sandwich across the table and tucked your bag away beside your chair. When you surfaced you found him sitting still with his untouched sandwich wrapped in front of him.

“Should I be worried?”

The question processed in his gaze and seemed to awaken his limbs.

“That depends.”

Though he made it a statement, the end felt clipped away.

You wondered what else he meant to say as he robotically went through the motions of undoing the wrapping and folding it back. You left him to his routine and instead separated the halves of your sandwich to eat one with the parchment peeled back. You had just gotten down your first bite when you caught him picking up his meal without his usual measured grab.

“I don’t think you understand the gravity of what you’re requesting.” 

Pausing, you turned the sentence over before taking another bite. “I’m not asking you to marry me.”

His head lolled slightly with dissatisfaction. Though his face didn’t betray it, you could feel the a dissatisfied aura coming off of him. “The weight doesn’t lie in the fraternization.”

You squinted at him.

He brought his sandwich up and narrowed his gaze at it.

“Is this… related to that taste thing?”

“Yes.” He punctured the single syllable with a sharp bite of his sandwich.

You watched openly as one of his lids twitched. He gave an odd side to side chew of the morsel before lowering the sandwich back to the paper. He seemed to struggle to get it down and his dark mood further clouded.

“Something wrong?”

“It’s me I don’t think you understand.” He grabbed a napkin to wipe his mouth and pushed his meal a few centimeters away from his person.

“That’s sort of the point.”

“Y/N.”

You broke away from staring at him to look at his sandwich.

“Even if we could set aside what is rapidly becoming willful ignorance, you don’t seem to have considered the fact that I’m a mutant and you’re human.”

“So?” Your own meal came down with your brow.

“Which is exactly why I still have reservations about your motives.”

“I’ve never been with a mutant before. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve even talked to one before you.” Flicking eyes between your lunch and his, you made quick work of unwrapping your bitten half.  

You could feel his gaze intensify, so your brought yours up in an open show of your honesty. His pupils darted around taking in an unknown amount of information before he looked away towards a window.

With his attention parted, you reached across the table and snagged the corner of his parchment. As soon as you started sliding it towards you, he caught the motion and returned his gaze. He didn’t stop you, so you brought both meals next to each other and started to reach for his. Seeing your hand’s descent triggered something in your mind and you halted. As you twisted to grab your bag, you saw Donatello go for something in his pocket. When you both returned to the table you stared at each other and your travel sized bottles of hand sanitizer.

You immediately laughed in spite of the tense air.

He gave the barest huff and returned his own bottle to his person.

“Great minds.” You mumbled, trying to taper off your giggles as your disinfected your hands.

If he responded, you couldn’t hear it as you finally reached for his sandwich. Peeling back the bread on the half he’d bitten, you grimaced at what lie underneath. His lettuce was a pathetically wilted smear against his oily tomato. Peeking out from underneath that was an alarmingly pale piece of bacon. You picked at the tongue that slumped off the side of the sandwich and found it to be just as floppy as it looked.

“We ordered the same thing.” You remarked before quickly moving to uncap your sandwich. Yours, in comparison, looked like a meal that was ready for its menu shoot. “Are both sides like that?”

He again didn’t seem to respond, so you moved to remove the bread from the rest of his meal. The other half continued the same trend. You sat back in your seat and considered the dichotomy. Confused, you finally swept your gaze to your companion.

Across from you, Donatello’s irritation continued to waft off of him, but he was directing it into his person. It was all such a strange show that it left you unnerved. It reminded you of the day prior when the mystery of the supposedly unknown sandwich shop loomed overhead.

You blinked.

Straightening up, you spun around in your chair. The speed of the move meant you just caught the way the whispering employees departed from each other behind the counter. Your eyes widened to a degree that nearly stung. You spun back around to find Donatello staring at you with a dark knowing expression.

That’s why he had brought up human/mutant relations.

“They gave you a gross sandwich on purpose.”

He gave a curt nod.

“But…” You leaned into the table, but in doing so it brought your face closer to said offense. You sloppily reconstructed it before messily squishing the parchment down to hide it away. “How would they know you’d take the intended one?”

The way Donatello stared evenly back made several things clear.

He had in fact arrived to the shop early.

He’d seen and let them make him a subpar meal.

He then accepted it in a way that ensured he’d get the gross one and not you.

The deep frown on your lips stung your cheeks. “If… If they saw you order it, why weren’t both sandwiches gross?”

“The wait.” It seemed like a struggle for him to get the two words out evenly.

Your lips parted.

There had been a wait from when you’d arrived to when the sandwiches had been ready.

Those whispering bastards had seriously rushed to remake a sandwich as soon as they found out a human was on the order.

As the pieces of the events fell into place, confusion melted away under budding fury. “Why didn’t you say something? That doesn’t seem like-!”

You bit down to keep the presumption from coming out.

He leaned forward in a similar manner as you had done.

It brought your voice down and you spoke before he could. “Yesterday at the building, they weren’t glaring because we were there. They were mad because we were together?”

His chin tipped up the barest amount, but you couldn’t take in his appreciation for your correct guess based on its content.

“That or… that’s just how they look at you.”

“Both.” The single syllable dripped with disdain.

Considering he could barely keep a lid on his resentment, it made very little sense why he allowed this to happen. You forced yourself to swallow your own anger in mustering up a pleading eye. “I don’t understand…?”

His expression was pulled so taunt it seemed like a piano wire about to snap. “I needed to talk to you first and foremost, but trust me when I say the retribution will be swift.”

There was a manic flash to his eyes that you only barely caught before a tidal wave of emotion flooded you. Any remnant thoughts on it washed away as your heart buoyed to the surface. You could feel your eyes rapidly watering. With both of you craned over the table into one another, you knew he had a front row seat. Screwing your eyes shut, you hoped he wouldn’t see it as pity or sadness. You certainly weren’t going to celebrate and you were already forming your own just recourse, but the man in front of you had endured blatant xenophobia in silence just so not as to upset these plans.

You didn’t care.

Whatever terrible things he thought of himself.

Whatever things he might have done in the past.

Hell, for all you knew he was still doing it.

It simply didn’t matter.

You wanted him.

 More than ever.

Your eyes popped open in time with a smile on your lips.

He seemed to wince against the brightness of it.

“First things first.” You sat back and grabbed your uneaten sandwich half.

“That’s yours.”

“And?” You pushed it towards him. “You’re not eating that.” You waved off his appalling excuse of a meal.

“You’ll be stuck at work and I can get something else.” He reached out with a single digit and used it to slide the sandwich half back.

“It’s not up for discussion.” You reached out to do something similar, but he hadn’t lifted his hand. You glowered at the offending digit and moved to send that same dissatisfied look to his face.

A resolute blank stare sat there.

“Split then.”

“It’s not even.”

You groaned loudly.

He remained unmoved.

With your uneaten half ensnared, you moved to your bitten half. Searching around, you found a loose plastic knife on the table and made a cut that bisected the sandwich in a way that severed off the contaminated half for yourself. He kept a close eye as you then made a show of folding your parchment into as close of a version as how he did and set the clean segment upon it. It had some sort of effect on him because he finally relinquished his hold. Moving fast in case he changed his mind, you cut the uneaten half and the doled out the sandwich into two meals.

“Obviously this place is not a contender, but it would be annoying if you couldn’t pass proper judgment on it.”  

You felt his gaze linger as you took an annoyed bite of your bread. You chewed a little harder than necessary and when his stare continued to linger, you brought a staunch eye to him.

You expected any of a dozen things to be there.

What you didn’t expect was a softness to his features that could almost be read with affection.

You nearly choked as you swallowed prematurely.

“May I see that?” He nodded to the sandwich in your hand.

It seemed like an odd request, but you were still dumbfounded by the kindness in his eyes. You nodded numbly and held it out to him.

With his hands tucked beneath the table he leaned forward. You wondered if there was something gross in your meal that you had neglected when his mouth suddenly opened. Before you could do anything else, his hands surfaced to steady yours and he took a big bite straight of where you had taken your last one. He retreated while chewing and moved his attention downward, finally doing his pick-up calculations.

Several incoherent sounds puttered off your lips as you brought back the little left of your sandwich.

He had just made such a fuss about it being even too.

You waited numbly until he swallowed his mouthful, having a sense that he’d speak on it.

“For clarification. I’m not a germophobe, just cleanly.” 

You gaze snapped from your meal to him.

“The hand sanitizer?!”

He didn’t respond, but you were sure you saw the quirk of a smile as he got the right angle down and lifted his own meal to take a bite.

“Don’t think you’ve escaped the discussion.”

“Your far more dangerous in how unpredictable you are. I don’t know if my heart will be able to take it.”

This time you actually got substantial peek of the upturned corner of his lips between bites. “If that’s what you label as dangerous, you might as well leave now.”

“No way, after what I’ve seen? I’m more invested than ever!.”

He shook his head and polished the food he had. “Mediocre.” He gestured to the parchment.

“Agreed.” You nodded into another bite. “But regardless of what I say, it’s still a two-way street. If you don’t want to see me after the next shop, I’ll understand.”

“You opened changing the terms of the agreement, who’s to say I didn’t terminate it early?”

You paused and gave him a suspicious look.

The even gaze he returned seemed to still be genial.

“I can’t tell if you think you’re messing with me on purpose, it’s teasing, or you really mean it.”

“Consider that something you’ll have to contend with.”

“List some more; for my sample size, I mean.”

He tipped his chin up and you finally had a chance to bask in that satisfaction.

“You’ve seen my disposition: Don’t expect flowers and chocolates. I wasn’t built for the machinations of formulaic romance. I’m evil and you will be kept in the dark about many things that widely range from what I simply don’t wish to expound on to legal ramifications.”

You stared back at him for a long moment, but he didn’t buckle under the pressure.

That amicable air had all but evaporated so you took to checking your surroundings for a hidden camera.

Finding you were not in fact on a twisted TV show, you returned your gaze to him to find him leaned back in apparent wait.

“I doubt you’ll believe me if you’re still hung up on the mutant thing, but I swear I’ve already taken pretty much all that into account.”

His gaze narrowed the slightest bit and you let him evaluate you in the same way.

You both came away in a similar stalemate: all evidence said the other was being honest, but it was hard to believe.

“Do you need a list like that for me?”

“No, I’ve gathered sufficient data.”

Now that you needed no consideration over.

It just made sense.

“So…?”

“I’m adding ‘stubborn’ to your negatives.”

“If I wasn’t, I doubt you’d even have given me a second glance.”

You weren’t sure what it was about that, but it seemed to irritate him more than another other jab you’d sent his way.

You hadn’t even meant it to be one.

“We have another shop to explore and then we’ll take it from there.”

“That’s the best I’m going to get out of you, huh?”

He gave you his trademarked look.

You gave a lazy smile and finished up your sandwich. He hadn’t made his usual move to clean up the table and you suspected it was the first of many disrespects he’d be giving the place.

You smiled inwardly.

He had no idea.

“I’m gonna guess I just took another long lunch?” The fact that fewer suits passed outside signified the hour had passed.

Donatello gave a nod.

“This is either the one weird thing my boss turns the other cheek to or he’s building up to something.”

“Best of luck with that.”

“Not a trace of sympathy!”

“It’s your occupation.” His head tipped slightly to one side.

“Thanks for not saying ‘just quit.’”

“Nothing in life is so simple. Are you at least applying for other jobs?”

You laughed. “I absolutely am.”

“Fine then. I detest those that complain without even attempting to change their station.”

“Oh! Your first deal breaker! I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“You can use it as an easy out.” His blinks seemed a bit slower as if he were relaxed.

A flicker of warmth sparked in your chest. “If that’s the case you should have told me for our earlier dates.”

He grimaced.

If you were standing you might have fallen over.

It was the first clear and open emotion he had given.

More so than even eating a rotten sandwich.

“Wha…?” You flubbed the question dumbly and rose a confused finger up to him.

“These are not dates.”

Your jaw slacked and you squinted with bewilderment.

“If I were to take you on a proper date, you would know it.”

“You’re… offended?” Recognition bloomed and seeped into the confused cracks.

He only gave you that obvious look. All other traces of emotion disappearing from his person.

“But in your warnings there was that bit about romance…?”

“I’m going to gift you a book on statistics. I expect you to read it in length.”

“Come on! That’s not even a sample size guess! It directly contradicts what you said!”

He clicked his tongue and made it seem like it was heavy labor to open his mouth. “I gave a general statement. You’re folding your assumption into that when you don’t know what I consider applicable.”

“Which is…?”

“Too lengthy if you don’t want to turn a supposition about your boss’s attitude into an certainty.”

“Fine…” You trailed off and made a move to stand. He followed suit, leaving the trash behind, and you bent over to retrieve your bag. “I’m a visual learner, by the way.” Feeling emboldened by how the whole meeting had gone, you tossed a wink along with the comment.

He passed you an unamused look and you grabbed the repulsive sandwich from earlier.

You leaned into him sweetly. “Thanks for considering it, by the way. I want to quell one of your concerns. This is how I’ll deal with the whole cross-species thing.” You whispered before rounding away from him in a extended sweep .

Several people seated nearby seemed to take notice.

“Hey!” You shouted directly at the front counter. “So rotten food is just a standard thing here!?” 

Caught up in your display and already storming the employee’s fortress, you couldn’t be sure, but you imagined Donatello watching after you with that fond expression in his eyes.

NEXT

[maryellencarter]

okay, this may not be terribly coherent, but i think if anyone in the fandom still follows me, it's important for them to know.

earlier this summer, in addition to my wonderful partner of 6 years @camshaft22 , i agreed to date @johnhawkens , my gaming buddy. i knew he'd had some trouble with alcoholism previously, but he swore he was sober now. after losing my job, i moved up here so we could try to get disability and housing together, because arizona was absolutely horrendous for being homeless and i was not doing that a third time. the social services in this state are indeed much better. however, he had a lot of trouble with various applications falling through, crossed communications, and so forth. after three months in a group halfway house, they couldn't keep him any longer but he had nowhere else to go, so he wound up moving back in with his folks, who did not want him there but were prepared to tolerate him if he kept working hard on his housing.

on friday, november 10, i'm trying to be precise in my dates as far as i've been able to figure out, he got like four different pieces of bad news at once. he dug out some stashed liquor he'd hidden in his room about six months previous (before the halfway house or anything), got drunk, hid the bottle, forgot he hid the bottle, woke up and couldn't find it, assumed his folks had rifled through his stuff while he was asleep, and confronted them about hiding the bottle. this did not go well.

(he's always told me his folks are abusive, and i haven't questioned it too hard as mine definitely were, but i really have to wonder how much is... well, for example, do they actually go through his stuff when he's asleep or does he merely get confused and think they did?)

saturday and sunday, the 11th and 12th, were rough. i comforted him as much as i could, offered to drive up and get him, offered to help with his paperwork, talk to his case managers, whatever. on saturday he told me his father was insisting on seeing his paypal in order to find out if he had bought alcohol, and therefore sent me all the money in it to hold while he deleted the entire account to remove the history. he said he didn't want to get scolded for "unnecessary" purchases like games, which, sure, fine, my folks were like that, but it does mean he can't prove to anybody he *didn't* buy alcohol. (he's set it back up with the same email now.)

on sunday night, the 12th, he went radio silent, except for one DM to me about half past one on monday morning, which as far as i could find out was the last anyone had heard from him. i gave it a couple days, poking him on discord, texting him, calling him, and finally on tuesday evening, the 14th, i started messaging everyone i knew who talked to him, asking if they'd heard anything. nobody had.

on wednesday, i was basically assuming he'd killed himself and i'd missed my chance early monday morning to talk him down. i started looking up obituaries. i started talking about memories of him with his friends, at least the ones i'm reasonably close to myself. and i started to find out that his versions of some stories he'd told me were... weirdly different, from the ways the other people in the same stories remembered them. the other people's versions often seemed more in character to everyone i thought i knew.

we also found out that some of the times he'd messaged us for money lined up weirdly with times he'd claimed to have "drug interactions" making him act strange, and times he'd asked me for a lift. furthermore, i'd recently found out that his free phone "through insurance" was actually a lifeline program phone, which is all income-based through the government, so the time he'd told several of us that he needed a one-time payment to be allowed to keep it... did not fit with how i know the lifeline program actually works, especially since his carrier is verizon-owned and i have the entire verizon internal policy page on lifeline right up here in my damn photographic memory. so we sort of found ourselves edging toward "we hate to disbelieve our friend but we're having trouble making the puzzle pieces fit into the shape he wants".

on wednesday night he messaged me to let me know he was alive. hadn't eaten, hadn't slept, had just been existing in a depression spiral. which, okay, yeah, i've been there. we didn't talk much then because it was my bedtime and honestly i crashed hard from the relief of knowing he was alive.

on thursday, i didn't hear from him. in the evening i called him, and he sounded horrible, couldn't put more than two words together at a time. He told me he'd been having "waking nightmares", and at the time, I was like yeah, that happens to me when I'm off my CPAP, I get so sleep deprived I hallucinate and can't actually fall asleep, it's a problem. I told him he had to get to a hospital, preferably the one near me so I could visit, and he agreed to talk to his folks about it in the morning.

In the morning, we coordinated, his mom and I exchanged numbers, and they agreed to drive him down to the hospital. His mom sounded super happy that he had someone as committed as me who'd be able to give him the support he needed. I met them at the hospital that afternoon -- traffic was absolutely horrendous, so they had to head back home immediately, but they were happy to leave John in my hands, and he indicated he'd rather have me handle it than them as well.

John used to be a 911 dispatcher, so he does at least know that you fucking tell the medics what you've been drinking. Which it seems is why he didn't want his folks around for his intake, because that's when he dropped the bombshell that after running out of liquor made for drinking, he'd continued with isopropyl alcohol, better known as rubbing alcohol.

This hospital has a unique setup where if you're at the ER for psych issues, they don't necessarily whole-ass admit you to the psych ward, they have these little overnight "pods" where you can spend the night and they can assess you. So once John was checked in, I spent a few hours cuddling with him and chatting.

I got his meds list (and eventually found out that combining his particular meds with alcohol will cause hallucinations, hence the "waking nightmares"). He told me enough about the disgusting taste of the rubbing alcohol and how difficult it was to choke down enough to get a buzz off it, that I definitely believe he had been drinking it, although his breathalyzer came back zero so probably not as recently as he thought he had. He also told me that at some point, my best guess is Thursday, he got back in touch with @dukeswonderousmenagerie who let him know that AO3's oxfordRoulette had posted a new Jiglup oneshot; John attempted to read the oneshot, found that his reading comprehension was badly impaired, decided *getting drunk would help*, and managed to down enough rubbing alcohol to get a buzz for about 10-30 minutes (his time sense is also utterly fucked but I can't judge anyone for that), after vomiting it up multiple times.

After leaving the hospital so John could get a night's sleep, I talked the matter over with Leia. I told her the hospital would almost certainly only hold him overnight, especially since he'd told them he didn't have a plan to kill himself. ("He doesn't *think* he has a plan, but if he goes back home he will die," I said.) She agreed that I needed to fight with the hospital doctors to refer him to rehab, or however that works. My bunkmate here at the shelter, who used to be a hospice nurse, told me exactly who at the hospital I should make my case to, but warned me it would be a waiting game.

I hoped to get to the hospital on Saturday morning, the 18th, before they discharged him, and go directly to the doctors. I did not manage this; by the time I got there, John was already sitting right by the elevators and had called his folks for pickup. (He insists that he called me first but couldn't get through, and being a cell phone professional I know I can't quite disprove it, but I sure didn't have any missed calls. I had his number set to ring even when my phone is silenced, too.)

I asked John to let me talk to the doctors to refer him to rehab, a sober house, *anything* but going back to a place where he was already depressed enough to drink rubbing alcohol. He flat-out refused. He told me rehab was the worst experience of his life, and I listened closely while he rambled about it and did not manage to communicate any other reason to me except "I couldn't drink". He insisted he absolutely had to be somewhere he could "get out and about". (He also admitted he'd been able to get an Uber order of alcohol while he was at his halfway house, although he insists that was before I was up here and nothing to do with any of the times he asked me for money or -- God forgive me -- the time I ran a fundraiser for him.)

So he went back north with his folks. I talked to Leia about the conversation I'd had with him, and she was like "I know he doesn't want them to know but we have got to tell his folks to dump out the rubbing alcohol, for his own safety", and I was like "I just wish I knew if that was the right choice" and she was like "I'll do it and take full responsibility, blame me". So that's what we did. Leia texted his mom, his mom told him "we cannot be the support you need, get out of here and call 911 or a rehab".

And John called me, demanded I lie and say it was all a misunderstanding, insisted that if he has to go to rehab or any locked-down living situation where he can't get liquor he will just die sooner. I conferenced Leia into the call, following the plan.

Now, you have to know that Leia does not lie. Ever. Ever ever. I don't think she has in her entire adult life, or something like that. It's her one rule of morality. I absolutely expected her to laugh in his face, "fuck no I will not lie for you, listen to yourself, you have to get it together, man".

Instead, she folded. I did not realize she was so traumatized from the last much worse time I was on the streets, back in 2018, that she couldn't make herself be responsible for someone else being put out on the streets.

I told him, "She doesn't lie, man. Ever." He begged and pleaded and wheedled and demanded, and... She agreed to lie for him. She went -- scary, so scary it wasn't even sexy, scarier than Keith Silverstein Lupin at his darkest, she threatened him that if he ever drinks again he will die slowly and painfully, but he didn't take any of it seriously, which is possible even stupider than drinking isopropyl alcohol.

But anyway, she told John's mom it was all a misunderstanding. She's the worst liar ever, she sounded like she was reading a script against her will, but her normal affect is so autistically flat anyway that Mama Hawkens (this is not her real name) bought it. I did make John convince her to put the isopropyl alcohol in his parents' bathroom past a gauntlet of security cameras, anyway, but he's already bragged to me in the past that he knows how to dodge or circumvent security cameras.

I can't believe I'm saying this, but his mom was right to want to throw him out. Me, I'm saying this. But it was her only possible remaining bit of leverage to try to get him to seek help. And it didn't work, because of me, because I wasn't strong enough to tell him no myself, because I put Leia on the spot.

If he had asked for help, if he'd been "my folks are throwing me out and I have no ride, come up here and get me to a rehab", I would have done it, even if it'd taken all night and had lost me my bed at the shelter. But he didn't. He doesn't want help. He wants enabling. He'd rather be somewhere he can drink, even if he's in fear of his life (I don't know any longer how accurately).

It took me some time to figure out how to break up with him. I've never gone through a breakup before. But if he can and will mess with *Leia's* head that severely, he is not a safe man to talk to, for me or anyone. He will make you sympathize and take his side. He will suck all the money out of you that he can and drink it away. And eventually, someday, he will die.

I told Mama Hawkens "I still want to hear about any major developments with him, if you'd be willing to text me." I told John, "Don't kid yourself that this means I'd ever take you back. I want to know when you die, so your remaining friends can be spared the pain of not knowing."

*shrugs* I don't know how to end this post. Feel free to ask me any questions. I may be slow to answer. I... I loved the man I thought he was. We were going to make a life together. I'm still crying, grieving. I've lost both my Jigen buddies in about six months flat. But I can't be with someone who can or will even *think* of demanding that Leia lie for them. I know I can't even talk to him again or he'll get right back under my skin. I'm a mess, but I just want my side of the story out there, for when his next poor deceived enabler starts trying to figure out the truth.

edit: I JUST FOUND OUT HE WAS ALREADY DATING SOMEONE ELSE ONLINE WHEN HE PROPOSITIONED ME

wow i guess i have a whole story about my crazy ex now huh *yikesarooni*

[vikenticomeshome]

The Cyberchase Homepage Through the Years: part 2 (January 6, 2005 through February 10, 2007)

I decided to pick up where I left off on my earlier post documenting the Cyberchase homepage over the years. Here is a capture from January 6th, 2005. The page is now back to normal after Starlight Night 2004. We now have an advertisement for "Cyberchase: The Quest".

On January 30th, 2005, we got the Valentines Day design again. Cyberchase had wrapped Season 3 in December of 2004, and they wouldn't start airing Season 4 until April, so I suppose they didn't have anything new to promote just yet. I only just noticed that Matt is holding a flower as part of this artwork. I'm a bit surprised that neither of the girls are holding anything.

They went back to advertising Cyberchase: The Quest by February 20, 2005.

On April 6th, 2005, Digit started advertising "Know Your Dough", which was all about teaching children about money management.

This capture from June 28th, 2005 shows an advertisement for "Quest 2: Race for Radopolis".

On July 21, 2005, we got this promotion for Hacker's secret.

This was referring to the main part of the "Transformatron Story Arc", as it discussed the four episodes where The Hacker was assembling the Transformatron. This was also where Slider was reunited with his dad.

Season 4 Episode 2: "The Icky Factor"

Season 4 Episode 3: "Penguin Tears"

Season 4 Episode 4: "Past Perfect Prediction"

Season 4 Epsiode 5: "Measure for Measure"

I may do a separate post talking about the promotional content, as it is no longer on the PBS Kids website, but I have recovered most of it for the FlashPoint Archive Project. Unfortunately, that video preview was in RealPlayer, and those files are lost now. But, the rest of it is now preserved.

By August 7th, 2005, the "Hacker's Secret" promotion was gone. At that point they didn't have any advertisement in the bottom right corner. Fun fact, the file names refer to this bottom-right-corner advertisement as a "bug", regardless of what was being advertised. This would have been in reference to bottom-right-corner station IDs that you would see on television channels.

I found a capture from September 30th, 2005 where they re-worked the page. The background is the same, but they've added new screens, kicked out Buzz and Delete, and now we get a count-down for new episodes, which are given a more prominent place. There is also a mention of a contest for 2005. It looks like another Intel partnership where winners would get laptop computers, similar to the 2004 contest. I need to dig around and see what can be retrieved from that and make a separate post.

It's October 13th, 2005, and we get a Halloween version of the site. It looks like they just recycled it from last year. It is a bit of a shame, as I liked the new screen arrangement.

And then, when November 2nd, 2005 rolled around, we are back to the advertisement for Cyberchase: The Quest.

Here we see a capture from December 5th, 2005, and its a little bit confusing. The kids are all dressed up in their winter wear, and we have Cybersite Penguia as our backdrop. It looks nice until you start thinking about it.

At first, I thought the kids had lugged the terminals and computer screens out there for this winter photoshoot. But then I saw the whole-ass balcony was also out there. How would they get that all that way to Penguia? Portal? Why would Motherboard agree to that? Was she in a particularly silly mood? And why were Buzz and Delete invited to this photoshoot? I think this is a Star Trek Holodeck type of situation where they haven't left the original room, and they are just simulating Penguia.

And now, we have this capture from December 10th, 2005, where Bianca makes a cameo to announce the winners of the 2005 contest. I don't think the kids have noticed her yet. Otherwise, they would be very surprised.

And now, it is January 18th, 2006, and we get a promotion for Cyberchase Super Science coming in 12 days. I don't remember what this was off the top of my head.

It is now February 2nd, 2006. The winter theme is gone, and the screens have been shifted around again to advertise "Cyberchase: The Quest 3" (the top left Cyber-beast), and "Cyberchase Super Science".

This was an initiative that focused on kids designing, creating, and customizing things. This is something else that I need to make a separate post on at some point, depending on what I am able to recover. I can see that we have a link to "Cyberspace News Issue #3", which is a little confusing. The "Hacker's Secret" promotion gave us an un-numbered issue of "Cyberspace News", which I assume was Issue #1. I don't remember seeing an issue #2 anywhere. I need to look into that.

This capture from April 10th, 2006, shows the "Know Your Dough" advertisement has returned. Maybe the kids spent too much money on the screens and needed a refresher.

An June 15th, 2006, we get a promotion for "My Cyberchase Summer", pushing aside the Cyberchase Super Science promotion. This new promotion does feature The Hacker, and he would do something like that. This section had a list of the different episodes that were going to air during the summer of 2006, and they included activities to go along with them. Maybe I'll make a separate post all about this section later.

It is now September 25, 2006. They finally kicked The Hacker off the screen and replaced him with a promotion for "My Big Idea".

This was an initiative where parents could submit videos of their children working on inventions. This page talks about the invention videos being put up on the website and potentially aired on TV. The TV airing would have been part of "Cyberchase: My Big Idea", which was a two-hour special hosted by Harry and Bianca. The special used four episodes aired in a row, and Harry and Bianca would show up in-between them to talk about inventions and show the clips of the kids. I need to see if this is still around somewhere.

Here we go. It is October 23rd, 2006, and the site has had a major redesign. They had been serving Flash games for years now, but now the homepage interface is all Flash. Additionally, the kids get idle animations. I can post a still image, but that can only show so much when the whole point is that the site is full of animations now. This particular page is advertising the new episodes coming in February, the character gallery where they put artwork submitted by viewers, a Starlight Night theme, and an advertisement for "Cyberchase: The Quest.

Delete shows up if you click on this door.

Uh oh! Buzz and The Hacker have gotten into wherever this place is. If we don't count The Hacker appearing on a screen or advertising bug, I think this is the first time The Hacker has shown up "for real" on the homepage. Maybe the Cybersquad should do something about that.

Hey, I just wanted to point out that it is February 2nd, 2007, and the kids haven't taken down their Starlight decorations yet. https://web.archive.org/web/20070202023432/http://pbskids.org:80/cyberchase/index.html

They did them down sometime between February 2nd and February 8th.

I think this is a fair place to stop for right now, before I hit the image or character limit.

[thestoriesthatweweave]

Hi! For the ask game: 🐦🦤🕊️

Hi! :D

a romantic quote from the Ouyang pov time travel au sequel that I am apparently now also writing

"You wanted to marry me when you were twelve and you didn’t realize you were in love with me until two years ago?" "You know I can be slow sometimes - will you stop laughing at me? I never laugh at you!" "I’m sorry," Ouyang said, though he really wasn’t. His back twinged, but he still pushed himself up to press their lips together. It wasn’t a very good kiss: he was still snickering, so their teeth knocked together wildly. "I love you," he said, once he drew back. "Never change."  Esen was smiling. He always looked so happy, whenever Ouyang said it, even after two years.  "I love you, too," he said, very warmly, stroking Ouyang’s cheekbone with the back of his knuckles, "so much."

 a quote you had to delete :( from an earlier version of the end of chapter 4 of As a River Flows Upstream, in which the conversation in the ger goes differently (but still badly) and Esen wakes up during the night and overhears a conversation between Baoxiang and Ouyang.

"You looked happy. I’m sorry if I spoiled things for you." In the darkness, Esen could hear Ouyang sigh. "It’s fine. You didn’t spoil anything." "My brother doesn’t know what’s good for him. You did the right thing, going off with the attractive monk. I hope he showed you a good time." "For the last time," Ouyang said, his voice oddly breathy. It took Esen a few moments to realize that he was laughing. "Xu Da and I didn’t do anything."  "Ah!" Baoxiang exclaimed, "You learned his name! I knew there was something going on." There was a long silence, and then a rustle, and then Baoxiang’s voice again. "Yuan-ge, are you asleep?" "I was, but then somebody jabbed his freezing cold finger into my ribs." "Liar. I know you weren’t asleep. Come on, tell me what happened with the good-looking monk."

a sweet quote Have two! A romantic one and a platonic one.

A super short romantic one from the time travel AU epilogue

I will send a longer letter once we’re fully settled. For now, imagine my lips upon your brow, upon your eyelids and finally the tip of your nose. I love how you scrunch your face up when I kiss you there. Yes, like that. 

And a platonic one from the Ouyang pov time travel AU companion fic

The cot fit Ouyang comfortably, because he was one person, and because he was small. It did not fit three people comfortably. In fact, it did not fit three people at all. It was a testament to Zhu’s sheer pigheadedness that they made it work, at least in the sense that all three of them were technically on it: Xu Da sitting cross-legged in place of the pillow, Ouyang lying with his head in Xu Da’s lap and Zhu sprawled over Ouyang’s legs.  The position did not leave Ouyang with much mobility. "If I vomit again," he pointed out, "it will be on one of you." "If you do, Big Brother," Xu Da said, gently carding his fingers through his hair, "I hope you’ll remember which one of us tenderly nursed you back to health and which one is the reason you got sick in the first place."

Link to the ask box game here

[phobia-sweets]

Can I ask for any version of John (of your choice, which is more interesting for you to write about or which seems to you suitable for this request) and the Reader who has a habit of strongly panicking because of their health?

It seems that, for example, if this person has felt pain in the lower back (which they fell on unsuccessfully in the past), then it begins to seem to them that the consequences of the old fall are making themselves felt and soon they will have problems with walking, or even the body will stop conducting nerve impulses normally, and they will not they will be able to walk.

Oh, or, let's say, if they get sick for a particularly long time as a result of a cold, then it seems to them that their immunity has catastrophically weakened, and now they will get sick much more often and longer than before.

Being just such a person, I sympathize in advance with your John, about whom you will write XD, Although I think he is… adapts both to these bouts of anxiety on the part of the Reader, and learns to calm them down.

I'M GENUINELY SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG IT'S BEEN IN MY INBOX SINCE DECEMBER BUT I FINALLY FINISHED IT

I had like 2 different drafts for this, deleted the other one, didn't like the one i chose, deleted it, started over... YEAH

Arkham knight! Scarecrow x reader

Warnings & Notes: I don't know what i'm doing and it's not proofread

Getting sick was a nightmare – not because of the fever, stuffy nose or how nauseous you were. No, no, you could handle those – What you couldn’t handle was the thoughts that came with it. Doubt filled your head, convincing you that what you were experiencing wasn’t just a headache– filling you with even more anxiety and fear, which only made you feel worse. Sure, you could seek out your boyfriend’s comfort, but would it help? Despite the doctors trying to convince you it was no worry, you couldn’t just believe them. What would make this any more different from that?

“What’s the matter?” Jonathan’s gravelly voice took you by surprise, seeing as you hadn’t noticed him enter the room. He was standing next to the door, his expression hard to read, like always.

“It’s nothing, really- I…” You started, looking away from him. He tilted his head at that, doubtful. “I’m just anxious. I have a headache and, well-” You sighed. “I can’t stop thinking that it might be more than just a headache.” Jonathan hummed in response, seemingly deep in thought.

- Jonathan is a (ex) psychiatrist. This means he’ll probably listen to you talk about this problem, whether it was because you’re a hypochondriac or not.

- ANYWAY, I’ve probably said this earlier, but Jonathan may seem very emotionless, but that’s not true – He still has the ability to feel emotions, sympathy included, even if he doesn’t show it or feel it as much as others.

- His strategy on calming you down? Reading. Even if he’s not willing to read to you, be it because he just refuses to do so, or because of his bad eyesight sometimes preventing him from reading, He’s willing to lend you some of his books to read.

“Frankenstein?” You questioned, turning the book in your hands.

“Something to keep your mind occupied.”

“...Thank you.” You smiled up at him, Opening the first page. Even if you couldn’t focuse on the book, you’d try your best.

- Now, if reading doesn’t help… He might have some horror movies laying around…? Or he could just sit and listen to you.

- Now, I don’t know how to console people, but he probably does. He might give you some comforting words. Might. We don’t really know if he has it in him, considering he made his patients rub salt in their eyes when he was working.

[bookishfeylin]

I saw someone say SJM had always planned on Feysand endgame, but that isn’t true. When she admitted to scrapping what she’d written of the second and third, she said in another interview that she had to add Rhys in earlier than she originally intended. That I remember, she didn’t specify if it was that he didn’t appear until the second or third book, but I do remember her saying he was supposed to be the villain and that she loved writing him so much, he was literally the reason she scrapped what she had planned.

I don’t know if he was the villain over Amarantha and Amarantha was just added in because she had decided to switch the endgame (which given the context of ACOTAR and all the plot holes and the fact that SJM said the first book was relatively unchanged from when she first wrote it during the editing stage, only to add some stuff in, makes more sense than Amarantha being the villain; a good example being the head on the spike having the NC’s insignia rather than Amarantha’s, but there’s obviously more that supports this) or if he was the villain after Amarantha. SJM never specified, but she made it clear he was the villain and there would’ve been a love triangle. The admission of adding Rhys in earlier and rewriting the books for him implies Feylin would’ve been endgame in the original version she wrote.

I've seen a few people who have been in the ACOTAR fandom since the books came out or who were in the ACOTAR fandom way back when say this and even reference old newsletters about the originally written trilogy that was scrapped (@editoress and @soartfullydone I'm calling you two in here), and the fact that everyone seems to remember the same thing (and Sarah doing this exact same thing in Throne of Glass) suggests to me that this was... very real. But most of the old newsletters about this that other people linked have since been deleted, and I can't find any old interviews about this. If any of you three remember the specific interview or newsletter where Sarah said this PLEASE let me know.

But yes, Rhysand's scenes in ACOTAR are bizarre in that he isn't really... pivotal. At all. Cut him out and the plot is almost seamless. Get rid of the stars on the dresser, have Lucien rescue Feyre on Calanmai, make the attor be the one that threatens Feyre and causes Tamlin to let her go, and cut Rhysand from UTM ENTIRELY and the plot still flows perfectly fine. It truly does read like he was a last minute add in, because he just does not affect the plot at all.

And, for anyone who may or may not be hate reading my blog, I want to say that ship changes are FINE. It's FINE to change endgames and whatnot! But the minute you try to discuss a dark topic like abuse, you HAVE to write with the care such a theme deserves. The minute she decided to have Tamlin be abusive and make Rhysand the healthy endgame love interest, drastic changes needed to occur in ACOTAR, not minor interjections of Rhysand's character here and there doing morally dubious actions. But Sarah chose not to, and reading ACOTAR alone, Tamlin is by far the healthier love interest with the lack of, uh, drugging and molestation and mindrape and whatnot. Sarah superimposed a story about abuse and redflags on an already-written fantasy story that worked on fantasy morals, and the longer it goes on, the more this series falls apart because of it.

[admirableadmiranda]

Tell you the truth, I'm a noob on Twitter. Literally just use it to login on other websites. So, what's going on with Twitter JC stans coming on here following the Twitter migration? Or actually, I really don't know about this side of fandom, and thus want to ask u this, "does JC thing really that hot on Twitter?" Enough to influence mdzs fandom as a whole? I know that part on old fanfics on ao3 accompanied by oblivious and reckless WWX thing and put JC as the straight guy dude who clean up the mess (strayed 1001 miles away from canon) , but since like 2020 or so, people start to wake up from fanon. So, does Twitter really hasn't been cleared up yet? And are still deep in daydreaming?

Well I am also a total twitter noob as in I deleted my old twitter account when I got into MDZS fandom because I knew that was going to eat my brain alive if I had access to that.

As for what's going on, back in earlier 2021, JC stans also had a pretty big run of Tumblr and were very shitty to people who posted anything that didn't fit with their version of the character without some tag like anti jiang cheng or whatever else people were using at the time. Sometimes you didn't even have to do that, people would still come at you even for using those tags and bash you, or if you wrote him in a fanfic as anything less than the saddest best brother, you'd get angry comments about him being ooc. This lasted until a group of people which included me started pushing back really hard against that narrative and when the dust settled, canon jiang cheng existed as a tag that we used for talking about him in his more canonical book and show actions, they could still use jiang cheng for whatever and the worst of the JC stans fled to Twitter because there were too many of us and we were too stubborn to let them push us out.

Fast forwards to Elon Musk's whole Twitter debacle and a lot of the content creators, especially the ones who make money off of JC art want to get off the ship before it sinks. But the problem is that we're all still here and we're all still talking about the same things we were a year ago and using the same tags and they don't like that because it's harder to have the narrative about good brother JC who suffers having such a terrible brother as WWX and is shipped with all the men in the story because he's somehow no longer a homophobe. So they're pushing extra hard because they literally made money off of the purple fanon and it's a lot harder to do that when there are people who you can't shut up who will respond to fanon asks or posts with what actually happens in the book. So they're trying (and failing) to push us to a tag that doesn't fit so that it doesn't ruin their storytelling with actual book events and a character that literally does not exist in MDZS.

It's less that JC is the hot commodity on Twitter and more that his most obnoxious fans went there since it was easier to ignore us there and now they want to come back and don't like that we're all still here enjoying canon jiang cheng. It's a bunch of loud, whiny babies. All of them easily blocked and ignored.

[dielukedie-subaru]

Since there has been some interest in my current intake, here is it broke down. I have tried numerous setups but this custom OEM+ version is the best and passes stupid SMOG visual check.

I also intensely studied the 2.5RS forums and looked at dyno charts showing that this IS the best when combined with a 2.25" cat back exhaust and equal length headers. Trust me!

This was a lot work as well as trial and error and willingness to start over again and redo it again several times. I think this was also the lightest combo if you trying to reduce weight.

One of a kind custom intake for the naturally aspirated Subaru EJ25D....

First up is you need the intake tract/duct and hoses from an earlier model Subaru Impreza or any Subaru that has this intake tube vs the stock version with the "torque box" behind the throttle body. Junkyard is your best buddy.

I had expensive high performance mandrel bent blah blah blah intakes which I constantly struggled with keeping the metal tubing cool (I used a laser temp gauge). This plastic is basically the same but rarely gets too hot to touch. So, actually a cold air intake if you keep reading.

Since the entire manifold needed to come out, I painted it wrinkle red and polished the runners and throttle inlet.

The reason I removed the manifold was to install stainless studs to make installing the 10mm thick teflon spacers and 2 sets of gaskets easier. Similar to 8mm Grimmspeed phenolic (previously installed) but thicker. This mod makes a big difference, the entire manifold now stays cool. No more engine block heat soak, only ambient engine bay heat.

"For every 5 degree reduction in temperature, increases power by 1%"

You have to extend the EGR tube and possibly grind your ignition coil pack mounts lower. Because the entire manifold assembly will be sitting ~12mm higher.

I was fortunate enough to work with the gasket maker. So he made 10mm teflon intake manifold spacers and a matching prototype 10mm throttle body spacer! Again 2 gaskets to ensure no leaks. Not sure if these were ever made available afterwards since I was the first car.

This spacer combo increased plenum volume as well as helped to keep heat transfer drastically reduced.

Using my custom ported, polished and knife edged throttle body that I did myself with the coolant hose permanently bypassed and the cruise control bits removed. Keep in mind you will need longer bolts if you use a spacer here. Definitely improved throttle response after just the throttle body swap.

I scored this GC8 v3 factory resonator/cold air intake inlet from the UK. It's what goes with those fender plugs. Grabs cold air from inside the fender behind the corner light up high, so no chance of sucking up water. FWIW, You really shouldn't just delete the "snorkus", seriously, it's just gonna mess up your MAF sensor.

I was also able to make the resonator from a SVX work in the 04 Outback with some persuasion. It too takes air from the same location but the box was hard to cram in the fender.

The intake tract will work with whatever air filter box but in order to use the EUDM WRX intake inlet/resonator you will need the matching filter housing box from an earlier model or have to drill a new mounting hole. You will need both halves!

BEST panel filter on the market IS made by Grimmspeed! Don't waste your money on any other filter! I also added a Filter Wears waterproof inlet cover/pre-filter to the resonator just incase of water spray. The factory option fender plug fills that hole.

And I'm not sure if this was an upgrade or not but here is the JDM JECS MAF I am also using. Used DEI gold heat reflective tape to keep it cool and extend the life. Possibly more consistent/accurate readings?

The only other things installed are a Weapon R catch can to the PVC, which DOES keep some crap out of the intake tract and off the throttle body but probably no real performance advantage. Plus a heat/flame resistant "sock", same as around my fluid reservoirs, over the bendy/flexible bit of the intake tract just after the MAF. That area is prone to splitting/cracking with heat and age!

Now for treasure at the end of the rainbow! I am actually gonna give you nerds the mother fucking part numbers! These can be life savers when searching for parts.

*You might have to make or reuse your PVC, crankcase, IAC valve hoses. So grab whatever is attached if your at the junkyard or hit up the auto parts store.

•Subaru PN's:

Intake duct/tract (EJ22): 14457AA111

Air filter housing/box: A53FA02 (upper) & A53FA01 (lower)

Fender resonator/snorkus (UK WRX): A21FA03 or A32FA01 or A21FA00

Fender plug: 46059FA000

•Grimmspeed PN's:

Dry-Con Air Filter: 060092

Intake manifold spacers (8mm phenolic): 015001

[wolfjackle-creates]

@vythika96 left a comment on Ghost!Robin Part 7 thay I wanted to reply to, but in a longer format than would be allowed by comments, so I'm doing it here! (Thank you for the comment!)

Cracking up that you said you forgot the glass until Duke spoke up like you didn’t write him saying it in the first place 😂

So parts 6 and 7 have been hard as hell to write. There are so many characters. And they all have so much personality. I'm skating by on Danny being unobservant and not knowing the underlying relationships well enough to pick up on subtleties.

But basically, this hallway scene has been killing me. I did 1 full rewrite. And I'm quite surprised it's just been one. A year ago, I would've needed two or three to be even this happy with it. (Yay for improvement!) In the first version, I had Duke yell about Danny's crown way earlier in the scene. Like, as everyone is rushing out of the dining room early. I also didn't have the physical confrontations between Bruce and Danny. Or the one-on-one convo with Jason. But I did have Danny clean up the glass.

Obviously I needed to fix that. Those scenes with Bruce and Jason were far more necessary.

So I rewrote. And when I did, I had to push back Duke's line by quite a bit. And only when I rewrote that line did I remember I also hadn't yet taken care of the broken glass. Because I deleted that part.

So yeah, it was always supposed to be there, but rewrites messed with my head a bit! I definitely think this version is better than what I wrote previously. And when I go through everything again before posting to AO3, I'll probably tweak things even further.

In other news, I can happily say I've decided how exactly I want Jason and Ghost!Robin to merge! I'd had ideas that were fine and would've worked. But I wasn't super enthused about them. Now I have one that is way better, but will make the fic a bit longer than I originally planned. So, yeah. Both excited and annoyed with myself for that.