#i need a dedicated tag for these if I'm gonna keep doing them

[bogunicorn]

Inquisition companion coffee orders and how they'd be at a coffee shop, based on the less than a year I spent working at fake starbucks many years ago. In a different order than my last post, just for the hell of it. Some of these are based on real customers that I still remember. I wrote this at 5am when I was high and unable to sleep so keep that in mind if you think I'm wrong. I'm not wrong but you should keep it in mind. H'kay let's go

Josephine: large americano, extra shots, cream and sugar and sometimes a shot of a seasonal flavor if it's a special day. She comes in twice a day, she tips, and the baristas are all trying to figure out how she hasn't had a heart attack yet from having that much caffeine every day. Staff knows her name and likes her.

Dorian: Iced white chocolate mocha. It's the only thing he gets. He will not drink it hot. He will not try a different flavor. He shows up in the morning and orders two, one with ice and one without, and be puts the one without ice in the fridge to drink later. Staff knows him on sight, but they make him state his order every day as if they don't because he doesn't tip.

Varric: regular brewed coffee, but he likes to hang out at the cafe, work on his books, meet with people, etc. He's really nice, he over tips, and sometimes the staff "forgets" to charge him for a refill. He also orders whatever food they're running out of because he figures that means it's popular and therefore good.

Solas: Decaf brewed coffee, and then he puts a disgusting amount of sugar and cream into it. He actually hates coffee and refuses to drink caffeine, but he doesn't come for the drinks, he comes to people watch and do life drawings. He needs the coffee so he has a purchase that can reasonably last him hours before he's expected to spend more money, and hot coffee won't leave condensation on the table and get his paper wet. Staff knows him and their advice to each other is not to ask him questions because he will answer you, at length, in great detail, if it's something he knows about. But he occasionally just puts a couple 20s in the tip jar, so they've decided he's cool but kind of a weird nerd.

Blackwall: Seems like he'd be a "just a NORMAL COFFEE" kind of guy, but he's actually one of the staff's favorite customers. He's some kind of blue collar worker who comes in on the way to work and on the way home, and he gets the same thing every day: regular hot latte in the morning, decaf hot latte at night. He's always there at rush times, but he's polite and he tips even when service is crowded and messy. The baristas start making his coffee when we walks in the door if they notice him, so he rarely has to wait, but he seems flattered and grateful every time.

Sera: Her order is different every time she comes in and it's always something all fucked up and weird. Half the time she just shows them a screenshot on her phone of some complicated meme recipe from TikTok, or she wants whatever technicolor monstrosity frappuccino that's on special. The staff dreads her order, but she also has a habit of getting belligerent with customers who give the staff a hard time, so they're pretty sure Sera is like a part time security guard who demands meme drinks in payment. They're allowed to complain about her if they want, but they'll malicious compliance the fuck out or anyone else who does.

Iron Bull: He doesn't have a single go-to order, but he's nice and likes to ask the staff for recommendations if it's not too busy and lets them test new recipes on him. He always tries the seasonal flavors at least once. Sometimes he comes in with a group of friends who look like trouble on first glance, but Bull pays for them all at once, doesn't let them order blended drinks, and always makes sure they clean up after themselves, so it's okay.

Cullen: Just a NORMAL COFFEE. He's totally overwhelmed by the amount of choices, but this is the closest place to his office and getting out to buy coffee is his excuse to take a break and stretch his legs. The staff knows him and actually responds to "just a normal coffew" because it's too much trouble to interrogate him about which roast or what size cup, because last time he said, "I don't know, something dark? Whatever has the most caffeine in just a regular size to go cup." He's been drinking a medium blonde roast for years and still doesn't know what blonde roast is, save that he thinks he doesn't like it.

Leliana: Two shots of espresso over ice. Leliana had shit to do and she needs that caffeine in her body as fast as possible. The ice is there to keep her from burning her mouth off. She drinks it like it's whiskey and throws out her cup without even breaking stride.

Cole: Year round pumpkin spiced latte. If they're out of the syrup, he gets the cheapest thing on the menu, no add ins, and then doesn't drink it. He rarely comes in on his own; Cole is usually there with a friend and is aware that it's rude to be there without buying, but the pumpkin spice is the only thing he actually likes. He's polite but he creeps out the other customers with his thousand yard stare.

Cassandra: London Fog, but she never remembers what it's called. She drinks it because she wasn't sure and someone recommended it, but the name just will not stick in her head. She orders it as "hot Earl Grey tea with milk", she listens every time they say "okay, so a London Fog", but by the next time she's in she's forgotten. It's not really a big deal, though, she seems pretty overworked. At this point the staff would be sad if she did remember, honestly.

Vivienne: "The Usual". Literally only one barista knows her order, because it's some customized thing that that specific barista made for her once ages ago. Viv knows what's it in but she will not tell you because she doesn't trust anyone but that one barista to make it. If her regular person isn't around, she just gets a hot latte with sugar free vanilla. That one barista also won't tell you what's in it, but that's because Vivienne tips them directly instead of in the jar and they don't want to ruin a good thing.

**also if you like this and think "i'm gonna give this fine person a follow because they're so funny about dragon age", i made a new DA sideblog at @skyholdstarbucks where i'd post anything similar to this in the future

[southislandwren]

argh if I can figure out the water thing, it could work. i gotta learn more about rainwater collection and wells and the regulations surrounding surface water use. but anyway i just learned that pear trees can grow in that state which is like fucking huge for me

[seelestia]

in lieu of the boop fest: genshin men as boopers.

⎯ something made on a whim to commemorate the lovely booping chaos going on. may not be accurate but i tried!!! 🙏 which one are you?? tag yourself /j this is the silliest thing ever, forgive me. fluff & crack (and made with love).

the harbinger of dedication (???): boop them once and oh, it's on. boops you back and will not stop booping you back — it's an all-out war! or at least, to them. they take this whole matter as an opportunity and certainly don't mind tiring their fingers out just tapping the button on repeat. does it for the fun and to get a reaction out of you. also, probably eats (sends) super boops for breakfast, lunch and dinner. it's their bread and butter.

childe (of course), arataki itto, cyno (has a desire to max out his boop-o-meter till the end - a completionist's habit).

the menace (as simple as that): they have no need to be booped because they're the one booping you first and a lot at that too. oh, you got 99+ notifs? yeah, that's an act of love and it's from them. they hoped you liked the gift because they had fun giving it. grab a handkerchief because you're gonna have to scrub that smirk off their face, literally.

wriothesley, kaeya, shikanoin heizou, lyney (he apologizes by treating you to a meal afterwards).

confusion (awkward ver.): ...what. what is this? what does 'boop' even mean? why does it sound so oddly menacing when uttered out loud? and why are you smiling at like that? it's a trend, you explain and they — reluctantly and nervously — send a boop back. they have no idea what they're doing but at least, seeing that proud look on your face amounts to something. maybe, they did well? they then proceed to send you another one just for good measure. how cute.

xiao, gorou.

confusion (boomer ver.): their first thought was that they're getting hacked by a... feline virus? how interesting (please explain). with some explanation from you, they'll eventually understand the concept! a passive booper at best, but has a proclivity to treat boops as a “i'm thinking about you” button. so just know one boop equals to one time you crossed their mind.

zhongli, neuvillette, dainsleif (still confused at the end of it), diluc (secretly because he has pride).

the 'humble' reciprocator (dark horse?): all is in perfect tandem. you give one boop, they give one back. you give two boops, they give two back. you squint your eyes at them from across the room suspiciously, they chuckle into their hand in response. is that an act of mischief or demureness? you wonder what will happen if you boop them one hundred times? well, let's find out. (they will give back the exact amount, no matter what.)

kaedehara kazuha, baizhu, kamisato ayato (a true hybrid between being humble and a menace, he is. starts off nice until he spams boops when you least expect it... with a smile, of course!).

the bystander with the popcorn: thanks for the boop, you get one back. yes, only one, sorry. they'd rather not participate in the chaos and prefer to keep their inbox clean. no offense meant, you're free to have your fun so go ahead. they're just here to observe because in their humblest opinion, it serves them well enough as participating does. oh, don't look at them like that. you did get one back, didn't you? rejoice in the fact that you're one of the few — if not, the only one — they gave a boop to. treat it as an approval badge. it means you're special (to them).

alhaitham, tighnari, albedo, wanderer (he thinks he's above this childish and pointless act of booping... or is he?).

the victim™: is getting booped left and right without rest. suffocating and drowning in them even. lady luck is not on their side; they swore they booped everyone back to infinity and beyond — surely, it's all repaid and they can take a break now, right? wrong. they rest for 5 minutes and come back to 99+ notifs every single time. (if you relate, you might be a victim of affectionate bullying. feel free to riot about it.)

kaveh, thoma.

the loser at the start line: sneezes whenever the paw comes up on screen, yikes. A+ for effort, though!

venti.

— thanks for reading!

© seelestia on tumblr, apr 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

[mythicmanuscripts]

"Cause yeah sure he lost his virginity to that brothel worker (which, by the way, I have many many thoughts on this because I am convinced this completely fucked him up for years afterwards)"

*Clears throat* Excuse me, ma'am. I'm gonna NEED you to tell me more about this 🙏🏻

Alright everyone strap in, I guess we are riding the angst train tonight. Honestly I have so many thoughts and feelings about this and part one of me thinks we should have a whole series dedicated just to Aemond’s recovery from that. You know what? It’s a tag now. ‘Aemond’s recovery’ is gonna the tag I use for discussions around this cause I think we all have thoughts and feelings on it.

Anyway, while the content of this answer isn’t explicit, there are definitely sexual undertones and implied sexual situations as well as discussions of assault and mental health so if you’re good with all of that, then venture out beyond the cut!

So I think the first thing to understand is that Aemond is very private and pretty closed off in general. Growing up he of course was taught about sex, and about the double standard between how women have to be virgins and men do not.

As much as the thought of sex made him feel uneasy because the act itself seems so… exposed, he was comforted by the fact that sex is supposed to take place within a marriage. He knows he will have an arranged marriage when he’s older, and he comforts himself by thinking that when he does have sex, it’ll be with his wife, in the comfort of their own bedroom. He imagines the comfortable bed, the candles glowing on the nightstand and the door locked shut to prevent anyone else from seeing him like that.

And then… well then he turns 13 and Aegon decides that’s old enough and all but shoves him against a brothel worker.

He’s confused, he’s uncomfortable. The room is far too bright, he can see everything, and he knows she can see him. The bed is sparse, clearly only used for sex and never for sleep. And the brothel worker… she keeps on touching him? Her hands are all over him and he doesn’t even know how but suddenly he’s naked and her hands are tracing his scar and he’s so so exposed.

He hates it, he hates every minute of it. He’s thankful he didn’t last long because he didn’t want to stay there any longer than necessary.

He had heard the tales from Aegon about how good it feels, and how often Aegon disappears to the brothels so that he can have more than just his wife. Aemond never understand what he meant and now that he had lain with that brothel worker, he still doesn’t get it. Yes it did feel good, but it felt as good as using his hand and when he uses his hand, he’s in his own room with the door locked, he’s safe there. 

In the brothel, people kept on walking in. They were mostly just looking for an empty room but almost all of them paused their search to watch him and the madam for a few seconds before leaving.

Seeing them do that made him blush a deep red and the madam made a big fuss of how sweet and soft he is and chuckling as his embarrassment. Only he wasn’t feeling embarrassed, he was mortified. All those people had seen him like that, had seen him naked and exposed and they had laughed and watched, and very clearly were into it.

They were getting off to something that was supposed to be private and secure and… and honourable. There is nothing honourable about what the madam does to him.

By the time he walks out of the brothel he feels like he’s been scraped raw, like his very soul is sunburnt.

He never goes back, never even considers it. He hated that raw, exposed feeling and he never wanted it again, ever.

And then a few years later his mother introduces him to his future bride. He’s already dreading their wedding night, being plagued by dreams of the harshly lit brothel room.

But then his future wife seems so good? She asks before she can touch him, even the smallest of touches. When her hands are on him, she’s gentle and caring and… and protective?

They’re sitting in the library a few nights before the wedding when Aegon and his drunken mates come barrelling through. They taught Aemond, asking if he knows what to do on his wedding night.

Aemond stays silent while that awful raw feeling starts to rear its head. And then, then he hears your voice. You tell off Aegon and his mates, telling Aegon that he doesn’t get to talk about a husband pleasing their wife when he goes out drinking every night and leaves his own wife to an empty bed.

That shuts him up, and pretty quickly him and all his friends leave the library with their tails between their legs. Aemond, meanwhile, feels incredible. You not only just stood up for him, but you defended the sanctity of their soon to be marriage. Aemond doesn’t feel as exposed anymore.

He begins to wonder if perhaps the wedding night won’t he so bad after all.

[lostalioth]

Could you make Sam, Dean, or Cas(one or all whatever you feel like but I love Sam🫶) with like an alternative/goth person? I can describe me as an example, real short with fluffy purple mid-length hair, tons of piercings and genderfluid(uses all pronouns), with a slim thick but still more of a slim thick/chubby/muscular with great humor like Deadpool as you loved animals and horror games. I love going to concerts and art, anything creative and going to college for marine biology/zoology!

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘩/𝘢𝘭𝘵!𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘳

warnings: gender neutral!reader (or i did my best to), goth/alt!reader (if i failed at describing that im sorry as well), reader described to wear eyeliner/makeup and jewelry and piercings mentioned, short sweet fluff with sammy boy.

a/n: a couple things i did my best to write this as gender neutral as i could? i may have failed as i tpcially write x female reader but i tried and i didnt know exactly what you wanted me to write besides one of the supernatural boys with an alt/goth person so sorry its just a short headcannon :) also this is my frist time writing for any of the supernatural boys so im sorry if he is out of character.

Sam loves to do your eyeliner for you on the days when you just don't feel up to it, your full makeup look often takes you a minute to complete. Of course as with everything Sam gets very dedicated to it and so he only does it after he has perfected it, not wanting to ruin your look with imperfect liner. Meaning sometimes it may just take longer in the end than if you did it on your own. You could care less though because as Sam does it, he will have a very soft grasp on your face and or neck the whole time. Softly caressing your skin with his thumb mindlessly in focus. The small action always makes your heart swell.

Plus: after almost 2 weeks of begging and endlessly promising to never show or tell Dean, he lets you do your signature eyeliner look on him. He wouldn't let you do your full regular makeup look on him but you were happy he even agreed to the eyeliner.

“Babe I promise you're gonna look so cool once I'm done” you gush with a small smile on your face. You had a hold on his chin to force his head still. You were currently sat on his lap in your shared room at the bunker, Him being sat on your vanity chair.

“You're lucky i love you princess” he chuckled softly and rubs his hands over your thighs, giving them a small squeeze as continue working on your masterpiece.

Speaking of your shared bedroom in the bunker, with your and Sam's combined wardrobes there was a severe lack of color. The both of you favoring black and darker colors.

You require attention from San often even when he is on one of his research deepdives. So Sam doing whatever he can to keep his girl happy worked it out that he will do his researching on the couch. That way you can lay out next to him with your head in his lap. He often finds himself playing and fidgeting with your necklaces or ear piercings, facial piercings, etc.

You have a darker sense of humor that tends to come out at inopportune moments on hunts. It never fails to break tension however and get a small laugh out of both the brothers.

Sam isn't all that big on PDA but loves giving you small random shows of affection, his hand rubbing your shoulder, a small squeeze of your hip in passing. His favorite though being small kisses of appreciation, reassurance, etc. though after a small and not entirely compliant of him messing up your makeup when he'd kiss your face and how it took you a long time. He began turning the small kissing habit into kissing your hand, the top of your head, your shoulder, anywhere but your face when you had your full makeup look on.

When you’d tag along on hunts with the boys Sam bought you a small vial necklace that matched all your other jewelry for you to wear and fill with holy water. Just in case you needed it.

The brothers also found out the hard way that when you're fully dressed up in your gothic/alternative look on hunts the three of you are often turned away at churches. You learned to pack a more normal outfit to switch into if it's necessary to step foot in church. You also easily overheat with your all black clothing. Sam started always keeping the AC on in the impala, at least when he's in the driver's seat that is.

Sam finds himself tracing or kissing your anti-possession tattoo that you had gotten alongside them. You don't often go on hunts with them, Sam being far too worried and nervous about your well being. He's concerned you'll get hurt even not out on hunts so he was relieved when you agreed to get the tattoo when they did. He wants nothing more than for you to be safe and happy.

“I will always protect you baby you know that right?” Sam questions softly as his finger traces around your shared tattoo and any others you have.

“I know that sweet boy” you smile fondly at your boyfriend and snuggle closer in his arms.

→ a/n: PLEASE LEAVE ME FEEDBACK AND HOPE YOU ENJOYED BABES AND SORRY FOR ANY TYPOS THIS WASNT PROOF READ :)

[kaeyas-beloved]

four sides and a bottom

Character: Kaveh

— a box full of your things, that’s it, that’s all

CWs: gn!reader (you/your), ANGST, hurt/no comfort, aftermath of a breakup

val’s no sympathy november masterlist

gonna apologize for dipping for so long but i'm also warning you that it could very much happen again <3 also i'm a little rusty with writing pls be nice to me :(

Kaveh wishes your relationship could’ve ended on good terms. He wouldn’t be able to kiss you or cuddle up to you with a glass of wine after a tough day, but at least you would still be his life. That and that alone would be good enough for him.

On rougher days, the words you spoke echo in his head, disrupting him as he goes about his day. When his mind isn’t occupied it’ll wander to the last day he was able to call you his, making even simple tasks like working or making a cup of coffee painful. A pang in his heart followed by an uncomfortable weight on his chest, throat blocked, barely able to breathe.

“We’re done Kaveh. No more, I can’t keep doing this!” The architect squeezes his eyes shut, willing away the repeat of the past. Without thinking, he takes his almost forgotten glass and downs a greedy gulp of the dark red liquid, the sweet yet bitter drink coating his throat and stomach, making his head spin and his heart beat just the way he likes it - stuttering and skipping as if to stop and bypass the thoughts he’d rather forget.

As much as the deadline loomed over him, Kaveh couldn’t, for the life of him, work on his latest project. Instead, his eyes kept trailing to the box pushed against his closet, the contents overflowing and peeking out for the world to see. By the fourth glance he groans and stands up, chair dragging along the wood floor and nearly toppling over from the force.

Some days he doesn’t know why he keeps this box of reminders around, other times he knows exactly why. People will cling to the last things they own when it affects them so greatly in life. You, by far, were one of the greatest effects on him.

There’s a clink and a thud as Kaveh sets the box of your things on the table, and it’s almost sad how he’s able to identify exactly what made each noise. He’s only memorized everything in it a dozen and a half times after all. A pocket watch, a picture frame, a scarf, a sketchbook, a ring. Meaningless things on their own or to the outside eye, but to you and Kaveh, they meant the world.

Clear as water he could remember when he gifted each of these to you, save the frame and picture. That was your own doing, something you had set on your desk because you liked looking at how happy you both were that day (or so you said - he thinks it's just because you liked looking at him specifically).

He’d given you the scarf to stay warm one night, the watch because you said it had a pretty design (you scolded him a little after finding out he almost spent all his mora on it for you as a gift. You were still touched nonetheless though). The sketchbook was given after you let slip that sometimes you liked to doodle. You always said you didn’t feel as talented as he was, but he’d always shoot back and say that as long as you appreciated the art of it all, the process, and you drew with a smile, then anything you drew was perfect (you were perfect).

The ring was a promise, one that he hadn’t intended to break. This gift you were too speechless to get on his case about financially because the words of love, dedication and loyalty that he added along meant the world to you. The promise to love you forever, to always take into consideration your feelings, and to one day make you his.

In some poetic, way maybe each item was an accumulation of things he was willing to give, when the reality was that you only needed him. Thinking on it now, it hurts more knowing that his absence was what caused your split in paths. Then again…

“Everything hurts when I’m not with you… I miss you.”

Tag list (both regular and event exclusive): @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @kaeyaloml // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kunikuzushiii // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs // @leena-shi // @ari-the-wr1ter // @xiaos-wife // @milkwithspiceyicecubes // @stygianoir // @francisnyx // @leemidnightmoon // @bisexuawolfsalt

+

@kaiserkisser // @multipleshadesofblue // @moloteco-real // @kithewanderingme // @scaramood // @ii-lily2 // @esuz // @kochothehoe // @cindywasneverhere // @kaeyastittysucker

[logmore]

hello logmore! silly question but i was curious about your thoughts on like a dragon: infinite wealth so far. you mentioned being bored by the first few chapters (fair) so i’m curious what your impression is now that you’ve played more of it. i wish sega was a bit more transparent about the development of the yakuza games because im kind of fascinated by some of the decisions they made in this one

I finished the game last night so I can reply now. I will talk about Infinite Wealth spoilers here:

Things I like:

Combat: Just Yakuza 7 combat but fleshed out, which is perfect. Being able to position your character is great, the team chain attacks and weapon attacks and stuff are fun to set up. The one flaw with it is that it does not interact with Kiryu very well, and by the end I was actually doing less damage with Kiryu if I got a tag team or weapon attack instead of a basic Brawler attack.

Classes: There were a lot of classes I ignored in 7 because they just weren't doing anything; it was just better to leave Joongi, Zhao, and Eri as their defaults and go to town. I think 8 has an improved skill inheritance system that made it more worthwhile to try out different classes, so by the end I switched every character away from their base class. Desperado and Aquanaut stood out as being very flexible and fun.

Kiryu: Technically this is an Ichiban game, but its more of a send-off to Kiryu than anything. I like how there was a ton of content dedicated to Kiryu revisiting characters from the past games, delivered in a way that I still liked it even though I only played 0 and 1. I thought the way they introduced leveling up his stances + gaining the ability to go beat-em-up mode was pretty clever. I also liked equipping him with gear that gave him buffs every turn so he could tear enemies apart like King's Hawaiian rolls.

Yamai: They knew what they were cooking here. You have to fight this guy like 4 times and I enjoyed it every time. He's cool, he looks cool, even the main characters say he is cool, and if he isn't playable in Yakuza 9 I'm gonna be astounded.

Things I don't:

Slow start: The first chapter got me pretty invested, but after Ichiban goes to Hawaii the story is a fucking slog for like 15 hours. I got so bored I stopped playing, and when I came back it finally picked up again.

Side content that I wasn't ever going to do: This is the reason the start of the story is so slow. I'm sure Dondoko Island and Crazy UberEats and all that is fun, but it isn't the type of thing I'm playing these games for, and when so much time in the story is spent ramping up all these side games to play, I just feel like I'm wasting my time. Next game might as well have a Virtua Fighter 6 tournament in the middle of it, why not?

Villains: Bryce and Ebina are just lame characters. This is a game with essentially 2 final bosses, but neither of them have the emotional core or the weight of the bosses from 7. Bryce is literally just 'a weird guy shows up', and while I understand what they were going for with Ebina, his goals seem so disconnected from what the protagonists are experiencing that him taking his shirt off and fighting Kiryu doesn't feel like a real climax. Getting Danny Trejo on board was a pretty inspired choice, but you fight Dwight so early that it framed him as a weakling that didn't matter. And he keeps coming back, in spite of that! There were a few showdowns in 7 where it felt high stakes/intense, but in 8 they had to bust out Sawashiro again to capture that.

Managing 2 parties at the same time: On one hand its cool because it means I get to use every party member, but I wish they bumped up the XP of whatever party you weren't playing, so that when you switched between them they were both at the same level. There were a couple of points where I had to grind because the difficulty of the content was scaling based on what my previous party had left off at, so I needed to get my current party to that level first. I also had to spend a lot of time doing the dungeons to get the materials for weapon upgrades on 9 characters. Just kind of time consuming, but it isn't the worst thing in the world.

Tatara Channel: Its dumb, but this is the only thing in the game that actually made me mad. The social media aspect of the story already feels dated in a way, and I don't care about Vtubers to begin with, but the thing that actually got me upset about this shit is that all the Tatara Channel scenes are just story recaps with unskippable dialog where something relevant MIGHT happen at the end. At one point I got tired of it and just skipped the cutscene, and then all of the sudden Kiryu is in front of Tojo HQ ready to fight. I hope they never deliver a plot in this way ever again

Even though I wrote more negative things than positive things, I still liked this game a lot. 7 is a way better story, but I think Ichiban and Kiryu are just too strong of protagonists to truly hate on the story, even if a lot of things surrounding it are dumb. I'm looking forward to playing pirates with Majima, and I will wish on a genie's lamp for Yamai to come back as a playable berserker-type character

[sameschmidtdiffname]

i recently had a thought about the reader's online friend!josh futterman, like if these two actually KNOW each other irl but have no idea about it because they use nicknames

i'd really appreciate it if you'd write something like this and I hope my description of it makes sense i used a translator for this lol

in love with your writing btw !!! <3

Bbgirl I gotCHUUUUU

Familiar Strangers

A Josh Futturman x Gender Neutral! Reader Series

Summery: They always say you never know when you'll meet Mister Right. But damn. This is a new level.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no gender specific pronouns for Reader, coffee shop AU, Josh never wins 'Biotic Wars' AU, fluff, meet cute, online friends who don't realize they're friends irl as well, brief mentions of smut, otherwise SFW.

Notes: Alright, first actually planned series! Is it gonna be a slowburn with twenty parts? A mini series? Who the fuck knows! Not me! Let's pray, mfers.

                                 ¤•1•¤

                    °☆>》Maggie's《<☆°

"Please tell me there's a chance for us," she says with baited breath. "Don't tell me you're walking away."

The atmosphere of the small, brick walled coffee shop is calm for 10 o'clock in the morning, but I'm not complaining. God knows I prefer this over the alternative anyways.

"You know that I can't answer that," Oshua says to Tiger, agitated.

This guy, always trying to be mysterious.

"I've waited for you my whole life. You could give me a goddamn-"

The ring of the shop bell tears me from my reading, my head darting up to see who has come to disturb my morning of peace and fiction.

"Hi!" The customer says in overly bright voice. One look at the man and I already know he's the chatty type, not willing to just duck in and out, keys jingling from the black belt on his hip as he flashes a bright, genuine smile, waving his hand enthusiastically while keeping the other in his pants pocket.

Motherfucker.

"Hi!" I try to return with the same bright smile and tone, but I feel irritation spike into my chest as I hear the soft 'click' of my phone shutting off. "Welcome to Maggie's, what can I get you?"

Gentle sunlight streams in through the permanently clouded bay windows of the shop, illuminating the store in its warm glow that just makes a morning feel particularly peaceful. There isn't much foot at this point in the morning, most people already having arrived to work an hour or so earlier, myself included. It was a busy enough part of town, a good location for a coffee shop to thrive, especially with the loyal flow of customers from Kronish Laboratory, a tall, dull building dedicated to scientific research, and the little coffee shop that signs my checks often had the pleasures (read: irritations) of dealing with said researchers and keeping them alive while they work on the miracle cure for herpes. Most of them being particularly rude and short about their orders, usually in a rush for a regular cup of black coffee and swiping it from my hand before storming out to resume their endless work typing away at a computer to log their samples after what must be their too short lunch break. Or maybe too long. Can never tell with those assholes. Most of which I know through mental nicknames. It's partially because I'm no good at actual names. And partially my own form of disrespect and entertainment. Come on, you do it too.

"I don't know," the unfamiliar man says brightly, placing his hands on his hips as he looks at the chalkboard sign hanging behind my head. "What do you like?"

'Whatever gets you out of here the fastest,' I think. But instead I say "Well, what exactly are you looking for? Tea, coffee," the door, "smoothies?"

"Hit me-" gladly. "-with a tea," the bright man says just so... brightly.

Thank you for being so descriptive. "What kind?" I ask, trying to keep my smile sweet.

"Whatever you like," he says with a shrug.

"Vanilla chai?"

"Sure!"

I need to stop being so irritable when someone interrupts my reading. I'm not even allowed to be on my phone at work technically, except the manager generally doesn't care so long as I at least make half an effort to hide it and don't do it in front of customers. And maybe I wouldn't even really care about the interruption except I've been waiting for the release of this part for two weeks, and Nick had been so secretive about the ending he didn't even let me beta read the work before posting.

"What's got you in such a mood?" I ask the smiling man, turning to begin making the drink. Oh, size.

"What do you mean?" He asks, raising his brows, still smiling. Brightly.

"You're like a big... ball of sunshine," I say, gesturing towards him before holding up a small and large cup, now gesturing the two like they were on scales to silently ask his preference.

"Oh, I'm just excited this morning. I'm not usually like this," he says, laughing a little as a small blush grows on his nose, glancing down at the floor before returning his gaze to the cups, pointing at the small.

"Yeah?" I ask, putting the large cup away.

"Yeah. Finished a big project this morning, so I'm like," he shrugs, now scratching the back of his head as he tries to subdue his smile, pressing his lips together and now crossing his subtly built arms across his chest.

"Well, congrats," I say. There's a small moment of slightly awkward silence as the tea quickly brews, both of us not really sure what to say next. This is the part I hate about customer service. I feel bad if I'm not constantly keeping them engaged, but if they're constantly talking I wish they would shut the fuck up. I already can't read regular conversation cues, there's just no winning with this shit.

"I like your uh..." the man I've decided will henceforth be known as Sunshine drawls. "Apron."

I look down at myself, taking note of the dandelion yellow cloth stained with coffee at the bottom from an hour ago when it accidently dipped into a puddle of the stuff while I was cleaning up a spill someone hadn't even told me about only half an hour after opening.

"Thanks," I say, looking back up. "Company issued."

"Oh, we match!" Sunshine jokes, pointing at his grey jumpsuit. Alright, the man may be way too energetic for the morning, but at least he's entertaining about it. I take an actual look at his attire now, a janitors outfit with what I should've expected to be a Kronish Laboratory logo right above his name sewn onto the suit.

"That we do..." I glance at his nametag. "Futturman."

"Fut-turman, not Foot-turman," Sunshine corrects me.

"Oh shit. Shoot. Sorry, man," I laugh awkwardly, offering an apologetic smile as I pour the warm, steeped tea over the ice.

"Iced in Febuary?" He asks, giving me enough grace to not focus on the subject.

I feel my own blush creep onto my skin, a side effect from the name jumble and realizing I hadn't asked his preference. Get your head in the game, idiot.

"I can make you another, if you'd like," I offer sheepishly.

"No!" He blurts, straightening his posture and leaning against the counter. "I mean-" he coughs awkwardly, glancing away. "No, iced is good. I like iced, just uh- figured you... wouldn't have the same preference."

Please, God. It's too early for this.

"I don't like the hot to room temperature texture," I say awkwardly, searching for a lid. "Too... I don't know. Iced to room temperature is better."

"Totally agree," Sunshine says quickly.

Glad to know neither of us can interact with humans properly.

Another moment of awkward silence, except I know what to say this time.

"So, you work at the lab?" I ask. For the small moment I didn't have his attention, he seemed to be surveying the small cakes on display inside the counter beside me, looking at a little white cake with strawberry coating on top before turning back to me.

"Oh! Yeah, no, I just- Carl told me about the place, said I had to try it out," he says, shifting his weight as he stands. "Good vibes and all that."

"Carl..." I say, trying to remember if I've known a Carl.

"Big, like," he gestures his hands long then wide. "Works security, looks like," he makes a sort of stern, almost mean mug face. At that it clicks.

"Oh! Carl!" Deftones Guy. "Yeah, I know him," I say with a more relaxed smile, chuckling a little.

"Yeah, said you guys discuss music sometimes," he says, nodding enthusiastically like he's glad we know the same person.

"A little," I say, placing the drink on the counter. "Alright, Mr. Futturman. $6.70 is your total."

The dark haired man nods, pulling out a green wallet with an emblem on the front from one of his deep pockets. I try to get a clear look simply out of curiosity, but his large, tanned hand covers it too much for me to see what it is.

"Here you are," he says, handing me his card. There's more silence, this time comfortable as I swipe it, our machine beeping twice in decline. At the third beep, Sunshine begins to shift his weight again, licking and biting his bottom lip nervously.

"There should be money on there," he says with a nervous chuckle.

"Oh, it's the machine. It doesn't like working," I clarify. "One sec."

Quickly, I pound my palm into the righthand top corner of the device, right under the chip reader before inserting the blue, cloud covered card once more and waiting for the transaction to clear. At the much more calm, non-nuclear level beep we both breathe a sigh of relief as I return the card to him with a smile.

"Alright," he says with that bright tone to his voice once more. "Now I can see what's up."

We both can.

"I hope you have a good day, Mr. Futturman," I say brightly, still a tad pink from leftover embarrassment.

Sunshine nods and smiles at me, toasting his drink before turning from me and beginning to walk away, taking a sip of his drink and humming in approval, turning quickly and giving me a thumbs up before tripping over his own foot and stumbling into the door like a bit of an idiot, making me giggle slightly before I make myself look away to give him the same grace he'd given me earlier. And with that last exchange he's gone, and I'm free to return to my art.

The tall man looked sadly at- ah shit, I jumped ahead.

"I've waited for you my whole life. You could give me a goddamn answer, Future Man!" Tiger spat in anger and frustration, forcing the emotions she could barely even allow herself to feel overwhelm her in her attempts to communicate.

Emotional angst for my bright morning. God bless, Nick.

-

As I push open the door to my apartment, my phone is buzzing with still silent notifications of what I can guarantee are Tumblr sourced. More specifically, Tumblr messaging sourced. As I push the door shut with my foot, one glance at my old, outdated phone confirms my thoughts.

felinehusband: Okay, give it to me straight.

I smile at the notification, allowing my oversized bag filled with too many items to clatter to the ground loudly, unlocking my phone and responding quickly.

icanfixhimdotorg: Dude.

I walk as I type, entering the kitchen and opening the door to the small freezer to see which cheap meal I'll try not to nuke tonight.

felinehusband: Dude? ,:)

I smile at the message, picking out chicken teriyaki as I hit send.

icanfixhimdotorg: Worth. The. Wait.

I cross to the beaten microwave, the appliance cheap and secondhand from Facebook marketplace. It's honestly a miracle the thing hasn't blown up in my face or given me detectable cancer, but despite the large dent on the side, still usable. Google said if the door still seals and there's no opening, it was safe. And it got that dent from me dropping it on the way inside the apartment on move in day after I already paid $50 for it after getting it from some overworked mom who hardly wanted to even charge that low. I sure as hell wasn't gonna get a refund, or anything functional for cheaper.

I leave my phone on the counter as I open the frozen meal, vent the film and slap it inside. Now to wait for seven minutes.

felinehusband: Oh thank GOD. I've been anxious all day.

I chuckle softly, smiling as I lean against the permanently grimy counter.

icanfixhimdotorg: I don't know why!! You always post such good work :)

felinehusband: Well, I post work that always has good reception.

icanfixhimdotorg: The difference?

felinehusband: ... I'll get back to you on that one lol

I tap my foot against the floor, listening to the muffled echo mix with the loud hum of the microwave as I stare ahead at the mint green, poorly painted wall in front of me.

icanfixhimdotorg: No cervix penetration?

There's plenty of ways to meet friends. I didn't not bank on responding to a request for beta readers for fanfiction for some moderate, slowly dying game fandom to be one of them.

felinehusband: ONE TIME!

The quick response makes me laugh, clicking off my phone as I turn my attention now to my waiting meal that I'm going to devour much too quickly while working lines for my production.

Nick and I started chatting about six months ago. I had already been following him for some of his shit posts, midnight blogging, and when he started posting fanfiction I was one of his first readers.

'Biotic Wars' doesn't have a particularly big following on Tumblr as it used to. When the game first came out, people were going insane over how to beat the final level. The community thrived from memes, overly elaborate theories, fanfiction, you name it. It helped that there was a huge boost in the gaming community in general around the time it came out, what with 'Five Nights at Freddy's' cranking out sequels faster than anyone could keep up with, 'Undertale' breaking out onto the scene a little bit later. The gaming side of Tumblr was alive and thriving, and the amount of overlapping there was between fandoms only made it bigger. That was how I found the fandom personally. That and binging several different speed-running videos.

At the point Nick came onto the scene, most had generally lost their interest in the unbeatable 'Biotic Wars.' The fans that remained did so out of genuine interest or hyperfixation instead of temporary trends, and while good work was still being posted, everyone had at that point either begun to shift their own writing focuses, lost time to post frequently, or shifted to other platforms such as Archive of Our Own and had stopped crossposting to their Tumblr. So a decent, well paced, new angst fic following a lone Wolf and Tiger reminiscing on their old journies together as they attempted to survive a bitter winter night without any supplies other than an old tarp being used as their only attempt of shelter as they attempt to ride out a storm after a mission gone wrong popped onto the scene, people were immediately captivated. And even though it was a one-shot, the work received enough attention that a spin-off fic was posted within the following 48 hours. And once those two had blown up, Nick was quickly recognized in the community for his content, shitposts and fics alike. And he was very lucky to have overwhelming positive feedback. Until his first smut, that is.

icanfixhimdotorg: Nico, baby. It's an important first step for every smut writer.

Oh, it was brutal. First, he decided to go off the deep end by just jumping straight into some tenticle situation for poor Tiger. Now, granted, he did post a poll before hand asking if we readers would enjoy the consumption of some outrageous shit, to which 78.8% of voters said yes, myself included. But when reading a 'baby's first smut' fic, one doesn't really expect... that. But I'll admit, it was surprisingly good quality. Until the cervix penetration.

"Coiling in her womb." Yeah, Tumblr had a fun day with that one.

It took less than a day for him to post that he was searching for smut consultants and beta readers, to which I responded both out of genuine interest and a bit of pity since I was sure his ask box was filling with several new comments. No one was surprised when he ended up turning off anon for a few days. And since I had responded to quite a few of his works/posts already, I was one of the lucky few selected for such a job since he recognized me. And once the doorway was opened for casual chatter, both of us just kind of never stopped. Either by constantly responding to each others posts, automatic reblogs at each notification of a new post, or messaging each other about our days kept us both sane as we tried to just survive each new day as adults.

I look up from my notebook where my tragic script is scratched across the $0.75 college notebook as I lazily attempt to memorize my lines while mostly keeping my eyes trained on the old TV in front of me to check the buzz from my phone, swiping it open to read the new message.

felinehusband: So how's season four going?

icanfixhimdotorg: Dude.

I watch the screen until I feel the phone buzz once more in my hand.

felinehusband: No spoilers!! I'm still trying to push through season three for you ;)

Nick was sweet. Good for a joke, claims he's a little awkward, but a good friend. Sweet enough that about two months ago he'd let it slip he'd begun watching my favorite show simply because "If I have to see you go insane over animated anthropomorphic animals interacting with humans again without context, I'm gonna lose it."

icanfixhimdotorg: Binge it!! You're gonna lose your mind!!

felinehusband: You're gonna delay part 10 lmao

As I take the last bite of my meal, I realize the time, sighing as I begin to do the mental math of how long I have until practice tonight. Knowing how little time I have to prepare, I pause the episode and type one last quick text.

icanfixhimdotorg: If it does, it's worth it honestly. You won't believe this shit, Nick.

As I stand from the sagging, horrendously textured couch I catch his parting message while I stretch, popping about five different spots in my back.

felinehusband: Okayokay, if it means I can read your over the top rants again, it's worth it :)

icanfixhimdotorg: Excellent. Got to go, showering for practice tonight.

I trail quickly through the small apartment, grabbing whatever clothes are passable in public while remaining comfortable enough to sleep in when I immediately collapse into my bed around 11 tonight, an old, tattered, turquoise towel I'd stolen from my parents when I moved out, and grabbing my soap from the kitchen sink before making my way to the bathroom. Listen, Seventh Generation is cheap and works just as good on the human body as it does on dishes, alright? I'm trying to get a mortgage one day.

As I wait for the water to shift from its arctic temperature to something more bearable, I check my phone one more time to quickly reblog a gifset and read Nick's departing message.

felinehusband: Knock 'em dead, Mercutio :)

felinehusband: Also, I need some input later tonight for this like. Slowburn thing. May be an AU. Not sure, we'll see. I'm thinking coffee shop

Ah, yes.

icanfixhimdotorg: A classic.

                             >¤》○《¤<

I'm making no current promises on how frequently I update this series. Hopefully it'll be something I can work on while working and such, but we'll see what happens. My current hope is to post at minimum one request and hopefully one part for this series per week. However I will warn one of my current projects is about to wrap up, meaning I'm going to have to focus on that next week as much as possible, meaning I probably won't get anything done writing wise next week unless I aim for a drabble or headcanons. And even then I'm not sure I'll have time for actually editing and such, so don't be surprised if the only content you get next week is some rambles like I've been doing for Peeta lately or nothing at all. Alright, love y'all!! Stay safe, stay healthy <33 see you next time.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

[lizard-queen-izzy]

OK! WE'RE DOING THIS!

Everyone shut up and sit down. I'm talking about TMA. I am listening through for the first time, I'm through S1 and halfway through S2, and I already have many Thoughts. Today, we will be focusing on my evil ship thoughts, because I missed my chance when this was coming out so now I will subject you all.

I know Jon and Martin get together at some point, and yknow, that's all fine and good.

BUT I WANNA TALK ABOUT JON AND TIM, OK?

There is so much potential for something there, and they would be so incredibly messy after the S1 finale.

[I've lightly scrolled through the jontim tag, and I truly don't think there's enough of you talking about how tragic they are. Platonic or romantic, they're so so sad.]

They both worked in the research department before Jon was made Head Archivist, and even though they definitely weren't close, they were definitely friendly. My Firm Belief is that Jon was the only one who took Tim seriously despite his more lax attitude, he saw his strong work ethic and his dedication and treated him accordingly. And Tim was the only one who listened to Jon, the only one who thought he had anything to add and took his suggestions.

I believe they were hired around the same time, and once they met there was a silent understanding that they were there for eachother. It was nice to just have someone in their corner in this new environment.

When Jon got promoted to Head Archivist, he was adamant about Tim being on his team, because he knew Tim would help get the results needed. [I have a whole, how everyone got assigned to the team timeline thought out but that's not why we're here]

Tim is the only member of his team who Jon doesn't think would have written Antonio Blake's statement as a joke to scare him. Which means he trusts him the most out of all of them. Which wouldn't be as important if he showed distaste for them equally, but he regards both Tim and Sasha highly, and only really seems to have an issue with Martin at this point. So why would he trust Tim to not have written it but not Sasha? Unless he's known him the longest and has reason to put that faith in him.

AND THEIR CONVERSATION AT THE BEGINNING OF MAG 33?? You're gonna listen to that, the first time we as the audience meet Tim, and tell me you don't hear how much these two care for eachother? Even when Jon starts getting upset/loud, he calms quickly for Tim, and doesn't let himself fully yell at him. He also leaves it up to Tim to fix the mistakes, an example of him trusting Tim's judgement and work. And Tim is so calm with him! The man keeps getting worked up and starting to get loud, but Tim stays calm and let's him self correct and say what he needs to before proceeding himself. He knows Jon is stressed and has a lot on his plate. He knows these mistakes needed to be discussed with him and corrected somehow, but he's still not going to force Jon to re-record the statements if he really doesn't want to, he's willing to find another solution. And then he leaves to go work on it so Jon can get back to recording the statement.

And Tim telling Jon he doesn't understand the filing system and Jon explaining it calmly to him, admitting he doesn't really get it either but that's how it is.

You also have to see my vision for how the S1 finale effects them. A traumatic experience where they were both scarred mentally and physically in the same ways. Something that should have brought them even closer, maybe finally made them feel comfortable being proper friends outside of work. But they both react to it SO differently. And that is the beginning of their downfall. That is the beginning of the end.

Because Jon spirals. He stops trusting everyone. He pushes them all away and starts crossing boundaries. HE SPIES ON TIMS HOUSE. And he can't even calm down long enough to see why this bothers his coworkers. Why this hurts Tim.

The beginning of S2 from Tim's perspective is awful. Your first friend in this workplace is overworking himself, throwing himself back into work the second he's cleared physically well enough to go back. But he clearly hasn't moved past it, and you can't blame him for that. Everyone copes differently, but then he turns on you. He stops trusting you, starts pushing you away, starts spying on you. Can you imagine how much that hurts? To have the first person in this terrifying new job who ever put their trust in you, who ever believed in you, to turn on you just when you need them the most.

THEY ARE SO FUCKING MESSY. GOD.

Anyway. I very well may be back with more JonTim thoughts as I continue to listen. But this is what I have for you today.

[the-writing-trash-panda]

A bunch of incorrect quotes I got from this site.

Gray: Yeah, I find it quite emotional. In like a cool way.

Lucy: Did you just say it makes you cry in a cool way?

✨

Natsu: Wakey Wakey Eggs and Bakey!

Lucy: But I'm a vegan.

Natsu: Wakey Wakey Vegetables and Sadness.

✨

Erza: I'm hot, I’m tall, I'm gay, and I'm on my theatre kid arc.

✨

Wendy: Oh, they left the bowl out?

Wendy: It says, “Take two pieces of candy.”

Natsu: Nobody around though…*grabs the entire bowl and runs off with it*

Wendy: NO—

✨

Gray: Erza-

Erza: *sighs* Jellal used to call me Erza...

Gray: ...Because it's your fucking name.

✨

Natsu: Laxus has only knocked me out three time this week. Our friendship is really developing.

✨

Wendy: Okay happy campers! If you were a fruit what would you be and why?

Erik: I'd be a tomato because no one accepts me as part of the group.

Wendy: ...

Erik: ...

Wendy: OKAY HAPPY CAMPERS-

✨

Laxus: Where are your parents?

Wendy: What are parents?

Laxus: That’s just about the saddest thing I've ever heard.

✨

Wendy: There are three chairs and five kids. What do you do?

Rogue: Get two more chairs.

Sting: Cut each chair in half to make six.

Natsu: Make them FIGHT for their seats!

Erik: I would never be near children.

Gajeel: Get rid of two kids.

✨

Sting: It’s not gonna work, I’m not a snitch.

Cop: Fine, let's try something else. Tag a friend you recently committed a crime with.

Sting: Lmao, @Rogue.

✨

Erik: Good morning. As you begin your day, remember that violence is always an option and often the answer.

✨

Bickslow: We’re playing Scrabble. It’s a nightmare.

Evergreen: Scrabble? Scrabble’s great.

Bickslow: Not when you’re playing with Fried, it’s not. He puts words like “ephemeral” and I put “dog.”

✨

Bickslow: Say no to drugs.

Bickslow: Say yes to drugs.

Bickslow: It doesn't matter if you say yes or no to drugs, cause if you're talking to drugs... then you're on drugs.

✨

Bickslow: I made tea.

Laxus: I don't want tea.

Bickslow: I didn't make you tea. This is my tea.

Laxus: Then why did you tell me?

Bickslow: It's a conversation starter.

Laxus: It's a horrible conversation starter.

Bickslow: Oh, is it? We're conversing. Checkmate.

✨

Fried: What are you writing?

Bickslow: The government wants to know what kind of weapons we have in the house. I'm letting them know it's private information.

Laxus, looking over Bickslow's shoulder: This just says 'fuck around and find out' in calligraphy.

✨

Fried: Do you guys ever have a civilized conversation that doesn't require insulting each other every time you get a chance?

Bickslow: No.

Evergreen: No.

Fried: Didn't think so.

✨

Gajeel: I could kill you if I wanted.

Droy: Yeah? So could any other human being. So could a dog. So could a dedicated duck. You aren't special.

✨

Gajeel: Goodnight to the love of my life, Levy, and fuck the rest of y'all.

✨

Teacher: Your child was in a fight.

Levy: Oh no, that’s terrible!

Gajeel: Did they win?

✨

Levy: You three, explain right now!

Jet: It was Gajeel.

Droy: It was Gajeel.

Lily: It was Gajeel.

Gajeel:

Gajeel: …fuck.

✨

Sting, being robbed: Please! Have mercy! I have a family! A wife and kids… a dog…

Minerva: Literally none of that is true, Sting.

Sting: Okay, but I’m sexy! That’s gotta count for something, right?

✨

Minerva: New year, same me. Because I'm perfect.

✨

Sting: Are you ever going to listen to me?

Rogue: Yes. Absolutely.

Sting: When?

Rogue: When you're right.

✨

Sting: Between Minerva, Rogue and Yukino, there are three braincells.

Sting: And Yukino has all three of them.

✨

Sting: Life keeps fucking me and I can't remember the safeword.

✨

Sting: I don’t need any more friends. I already have four.

Yukino: Don’t you mean five?

Sting: *looks directly at Rogue*

Sting: No, I’m pretty sure I meant to say four.

✨

Yukino: Why can’t we all just get along?

Minerva: Because most of us are assholes, Yukino.

✨

Sting, gesturing to Yukino: Rogue, look what you did! You made Mom upset!

Minerva: Mom, please don’t cry, we’re sorry!

Rogue: I’m sorry Mom... :(

Yukino, near tears: I DON’T REMEMBER GIVING BIRTH TO ANY OF YOU!

[j-l-kepler]

I Turned My BG3 Tavs into Fake Origin Characters

CUZ NOBODY'S STOPPED ME YET

So here I was, scrolling through the BG3 tag when I come across a fantastic BG3 Template made by the extraordinary @dvgsart! Couldn't mcfreakin' help myself, I tell you.

So I took my 5 active non-Durge playthroughs (3 of which are 2-Tav saves) and slapped them in! Had a blast doing this, I tell you. All the beautiful Tavs I keep seeing just make me wanna gush about my own silly Tavs. Life's too short to not have fun.

[Putting the ART and everything below the cut because this is gonna be loooooong and y'all should get to opt out]

Yeah okay maybe I've written Companion Guides for 6/7 of these guys. I've had a lot of time at work lately, okay.

I call these guys the Stacked Seven because all of them have massive badonkadonks and I'm in desperate need of a new hobby. I can't help the fact drawing tits is very fun and I am horrendously bisexual.

ANYWAY lil bit of preamble you can skip -- I based their stats and weapons on what they'd be as Companions or Origin runs, not what their actual in-game stats are. Romantic Partners / Besties / Weapons are who and what they'd probably default to if they were just in ya party. I also put them in their Companion fits, not their in-game fits. AIGHT LET'S KICK IT OFF, IN ORDER

Eckhart Markolac

The Infernal Twins

Ayyy it's my guy, you might've seen my guy before! We're starting off in familiar territory. Also he's the only twunk here. RIP.

Eckhart is one roguish half of the whole known as the infamous Markolac Twins. He and his sister Emerleigh have spent years of their lives dedicated to paying off a debt they owe to the Undercellar through smuggling, cons and other life-threatening crimes. Now that the Nautiloid has picked them up and dumped them a long ways away from the Gate, he's faced with the consequences of his actions and the kind of freedom he never expected to grasp in his lifetime.

Eckhart shares a companion quest with Emerleigh - get these tadpoles outta their skulls and get back to Baldur's Gate! But will he return to face his debtor, go on the run for the rest of his life, or forsake a future he doesn't think he's good enough for?

For those who haven't met my angst machine of a rogue, Eckhart is a sarcastic, witty and vaguely sleazy guy who's basically your classic rogue. He comes complete with a detached attitude, lower (but not too low) moral standards, and a heart of gold under layers and layers of self sabotage and emotional dysfunction. He's just bad at hiding it.

Eck and Em would be recruited at the exact same time, and their tadpoles would make it so they cannot live for very long without the other. How? Why? Because I don't wanna write a whole freaking branch where one of the twins dies and the other just has to deal with that. Game branch logic is HARD TO WRITE, DAMN YOU.

Emerleigh Markolac

The Infernal Twins

Heyyy girl, it's Em, it's my girl!

Emerleigh is one bardic half of the whole known as the infamous Markolac Twins. She and her brother Eckhart have spent years of their lives dedicated to paying off a debt they owe to the Undercellar through smuggling, cons and other life-threatening crimes. Now that the Nautiloid has picked them up and dumped them a long ways away from the Gate, she's more determined than ever to hold onto this newfound freedom... more terrified of returning than she ever thought she could be.

Emerleigh shares a companion quest with Eckhart - get these tadpoles outta their skulls and get back to Baldur's Gate! But will she return to face her debtor, go on the run for the rest of her life, or deny herself the future she so desperately wants for her and her brother?

If you haven't met Em, she's your classic dramatic bard who speaks in poetry, prose and academia! She's friendly, mischievous, and has so so so many things she hasn't given herself the space to contend with emotionally. She's a pretty lady used to having a perfect mask demanded of her, craving a chance to speak bluntly and openly instead of wrapping herself up in layers upon layers of what other people want from her.

I've already written plenty about Em and Eck. The twins' stories are very interconnected, with the quest playing out the same beats from the perspective of whichever twin the player is playing/romancing/keeping in their party.

Canary Highfall

Child of Light

My other major 2-Tav playthrough I have yet to mention, and the first modded class I've played!

Canary's life has been dedicated to the pursuit of truth -- consequences be damned. Reuniting with her possessive estranged father has caused a lot of roadblocks for her, but her divine heritage won't stop her from her latest fascination: Mind Flayers. Specifically, the strange tadpole specimen she intercepted in her father's study. Her pursuits, assisted by her bodyguard and trusted friend Leryk, have resulted in the two of them playing host to those very same tadpoles! The questions are piling up, with one weighing heaviest on her mind: why did her father of all people have this specimen to begin with? And what does that mean for her and Leryk?

Canary's quest is separate from Leryk, as the first part of her companion quest is finding him. If the player completes the grove or tries to move to the next region without him while keeping Canary in the party or at camp, he'll just show up at their camp. They're a package deal from Act 2 onwards, so the player can either dismiss them both or keep them both. She's not going anywhere without her closest friend!

Canary is a feverously academic person with a focus on abnormal biology. Her noble position and all the restrictions that come with it are a recent development in her life, and one she only engages with for the resources it affords her when possible. She's extremely distrustful of authority and how nobility has a chokehold on academia, so finding out her estranged father is a hyper-paranoid aasimar descended from Lathander himself doesn't exactly help her faith in higher powers -- be they the divine or the political. She's a bit of a smartass and gets wrapped up in what she's doing so completely that she often doesn't consider the consequences. Despite her outward confidence, it's very easy to get her to start rambling or turn her into an absolute mess. Though she hates when Leryk treats her like a princess, she trusts him with her life and would do just about anything for him.

With Canary, I liked the idea of a Companion with a specific interest in Mind Flayers and a personal stake in the conspiracy much like Wyll does. She wouldn't be able to tell the player anything Halsin can't already say in much more detail since she hasn't made a lot of headway in her tadpole-specific research, though.

Leryk Coppperlot

Knight of the Dawn

He's the only one of my active saves that has a skin tone other than "human". Good job, Keps.

Leryk's life hasn't been very long so far, but very little of it has been uneventful until recently. Saved from his life as a ruthless mercenary at the age of 19, he's devoted himself to the Son of Lathander. When his savior's recently-discovered estranged daughter was placed in his care, Leryk then devoted his life to her. Duty blossomed into friendship, but Leryk's blind faith in Canary's father persists despite what Canary has to say about it. Now that they've both been tadpoled and whisked far away from the safety of the Gate, Leryk is determined to get Canary home no matter the cost. But can he face the horrific truth Canary is on the cusp of uncovering...? And what about the truths she's been hiding from him?

Leryk has that frantic "rookie soldier" energy. He's extremely combat-experienced, but he's terrible at wrangling in Canary since he's very easy to sway through enthusiasm alone. He's blindly devoted to Canary and even moreso to her father, but otherwise can be quite shrewd and cautious of others. Misjudging one's character used to mean death for him, and he learned that when his old mentor tried to turn him in for a bounty on his head. Leryk, despite this, has learned a lot from the kindness afforded to him and does his best to repay it. "Caution, but not discourtesy" is his motto.

Leryk's quest is separate from Canary, as the first part of his companion quest is finding her. If the player completes the grove or tries to move to the next region without her, she'll just show up at their camp. Since they're a package deal Act 2 onwards, the player can either dismiss them both or keep them both. Canary's his best friend and he is literally her bodyguard, after all.

I love devoted bodyguards. I love him so much. I like the idea of some Companions knowing each other or having pre-existing relationships. You know he's having a panic attack and is going to find her just chilling in the Goblin Camp like it's no big deal.

Briar Lockren

The Weary Ranger

okay so Briar was actually a fan companion BEFORE she was a Tav. I recently restarted her run in a 2-Tav where the other Tav is actually Default Dark Urge because this girl's perception proficiency is worthless if she hasn't slept enough. And she never sleeps enough.

After three years of wandering the Sword Coast, Briar has settled in Cloak Wood in hopes of outrunning her terrible luck. Her past involvement with one of Cyric's cults has left her branded with supernatural-levels of misfortune and nightmares plaguing her every time she falls asleep. She's basically a walking-talking tempest. Having fallen in and out of the Feywild and caused towns to burn without her say, Briar thought being picked up by the Nautiloid was simply another instance of her shit luck. So imagine her surprise when she got the first nightmare-free rest in three years. Free from the eyes of the one who cursed her, Briar's luck has suddenly changed.

Briar is a somewhat ditsy individual prone to taking inopportune naps just about anywhere. Originally from Luskan, Briar's time wandering and falling into ridiculously terrible situations has made her a pretty difficult person to rattle. She's kind and gentle despite all she's suffered, but blames herself for wandering around the way she does and causing trouble (settling down with her luck is impossible). Her passivity is what led to her situation, however, as the one who cursed her was her childhood friend-turned cult leader-turned Chosen of Cyric-turned ex-boyfriend. It's messy. Briar's very used to messy life situations.

Briar's probably my most developed Tav in terms of a Companion story since she was originally written to be one. I also will acknowledge her being half-drow but not LOOKING half-drow is partly due to my own personal cowardice, but it's also the result of her complicated heritage. Lotta drow in Luskan. The fact she doesn't look like her full-drow father should tip you off as to why he might not have especially liked his child, therefore neglecting her and giving her very few chances to adopt the cult's teachings for herself. Kinda hard to teach a child to become a religious narcissist when you keep telling her she's just inherently inferior.

Scarlet

The Scarlet Scourge

My longest-lived Tav... heeeey girl, hiiii~ I'm probably gonna play her in a campaign one of these days. Siiigh.

The Scarlet Scourge strikes fear into the hearts of the greedy aristocrats that call Baldur's Gate home. A street urchin whose life was ruined time and time again by those who have far too much money, Scarlet's dedicated her life to taking from those who won't miss it and giving to those who need it. But Scarlet's been stopping the plans of the corrupt for a long time, and it all began with some dangerous blueprints. Blueprints she quite literally carries within her soul. Now that she's crashed far beyond the anonymity the Gates afford her, the one she stole the plans from has a chance to find her all over again.

Scarlet is a highly confident and highly competent master thief. She takes great pride in her ingenuity and artificing skill, and won't let you forget it. She's fiercely independent and keeps people at a distance, even hiding her real name from those she gets close to. However, like every Robin Hood figure, she revels in her legend and genuinely adores the people she does it for. Scarlet may act arrogant, but she has the skill to back up her confidence and risks her life for altruism. Get her in front of a gadget, however, and her brain goes a mile a minute. (She's going to be fucking pissed when she sees how cool the Steel Defenders are and the awful ways they're being utilized)

Who doesn't love a Phantom Thief? I think she and Wyll would absolutely be besties if they didn't already know each other before the events of the game - they both love the people of Baldur's Gate, have super hero names, and are archetypes of a class they don't belong to (Wyll is a Paladin in a Warlock's body while Scarlet is a Rogue in an Artificer's body).

Rohku Eddervyn

The Oathbroken

My OTHER longest-lived Tav, and the oldest character of my active Tavs. He's the oldest of them as well in terms of character age.

Rohku has been given many titles over the years, but none of which he's found suit him. After awakening to his Oath in the wake of a Sharran attack during his time as an Acolyte, Rohku was once known as The Sun of the Seventh Dawn for reasons he'll spare you for now. But years of tracking down and slaughtering Dark Justiciars began to take their toll. When grief and rage gave way to emptiness, he understood the pull of Shar. Unable to hunt down those he now saw as victims, his Oath shattered. But his devotion remains. Now, as he searches for new meaning under the Moonmaiden's gaze, he tracks down an artifact said to have fallen into Sharran hands...

Rohku is a mature and quiet man, jaded by the world around him. He's tired of battles between good and evil, and now lives for what is kind -- in any form that takes. He's patient with people and thinks very little of what others think of him. His wisdom and experiences make him an excellent leader, and an even better listener. He often chooses to resolve conflict through his words rather than his blade, but his deadpan demeanor makes that difficult. But he can handle that when it's his own ass on the line. But Zweihanders aren't shields.

Rohku was the first masculine character I played in BG3 and I fell in love. He's so tired and sweet. He's kind of Halsin-esque in that he was thrust into leadership without his say and acts as a calming presence for those he makes camp with. And big. He's a big boy.

~~

Hee hee hee self call-out time! Yes I have noticed 3 of them have black hair, 3 of them are tieflings, 5 have a different hair color streaked in there (with 2 of them specifically graying at a young age), and only 1 of them is above the age of 30. Because I Am A Coward. Pobody's Nerfect.

Hope you kinda enjoyed my little Tav sound-off! If you have questions about them or wanna see more of them or, heck, even draw or write about them yourself, go craaaazy! I don't know how much of these ideas are, like, solidified. IDK I'm still playing around with them.

God I put too much work into these. I can't believe I do fan fiction now. Wild.

[floydsglasses]

𝙒𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙏𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝘿𝙖𝙬𝙣 - Robert "Bob" Floyd ( A Quiet Place AU)

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x AFAB OC/ Camille SUMMARY: It was a simple trip, go back into the city and get supplie's. Stay quiet to keep the monsters at bay, and get what they needed, both of them had stuck together since day one of the new world, swearing to not leave each other till the end. Those who dare to mess with either of them will learn the hard way.

Tags: Post apocalyptic setting, Established relationships, mentions of blood and wounds, revenge, bob basically going through it (Sorry), death, kidnapping, implied pregnancy, soft fluff, men being pervy (Srry) angst, implied m3rder, torture, swearing, self defense killing. Use of ASL

A/N SORRY FOR THIS ONE, I dont actually like this ending, im also dedicating this to mamachasemayehm, im so sorry for all that has happened to you I wish you all the best ❤️

WORD COUNT: 9,824

⏁⏁⏁ THE EDGE OF the wave’s crashed at the end’s of her feet. The sun setting painted the sky in a range of pink, orange and blue, she smiled looking up at the cloud’s, sighing in content. She counted herself lucky to be someone that was living in safety miles away from the city.

She wasn't even sure how dangerous the city is, she knows the monster’s that hunt by sound, that are the cause of the destruction she has witnessed. They were scary, they ruled the world. Only good thing about this new world was that she had him

She dug her bare feet into the sand, the soft damp texture between her toes. She held her knees to her chest, her ebony hair held in a tight ponytail with strands of hair loose around her face.

“Hey.” A soft deep voice spoke up, she looked over her shoulder. She gave a small wave at him turning back to the water. His shadow cast onto the sand next to her, he sighs as he take’s the same position as her.

“How are you feeling?” He asked her, she shrugged in response. “Better I think.” She admits, he nodded his head, the sun reflecting off his glasses.

“Do you wanna go to infirmary?” Bob ask’s her, she shakes her head. “No it’s just food not agreeing with me.” She reassured him.

“Are you sure? We don't have to do this trip if you aren't feeling it.” He tells her, the same sweet nature he had kept since the day they met. A smile creeped onto her face as she couldn't help herself.

“We can always make Rooster do the trip.” He suggests to her, she smirks, shaking her head. “You know you don't have to call him that anymore.” She mentions, he shrugged.

“Force of habit.” He says simply, she tap’s the damp sand. “I’m gonna be okay, and not to sound cocky but.”

“We are better at supply trip’s than Bradshaw.” Cami say’s with a smug smile, he shook his head.

“Oh so you can call him that but I can't call him Rooster?” He point’s out, and she shrugged again. “Well yeah.” She says with an obvious tone.

He playfully rolls his eyes. “Oh.” She perk’s up.

“Do you have your knife on you?” She wonder’s, his brows furrowed in confusion at her question.

“Why?” He asks simply.

“I wanna show you something.” She tells him, he reached around in his jean pockets, pulling out his tanto point knife, the deep oak wood glistening in the sunlight that shone on the beach. She took it from him standing up.

“Okay I wanna teach you this.” Cami told him, he raised a brow. “You need to know this, if someone catches you off guard.” She flip’s the blade around in her hand, catching it with one hand.

“Are you sure this is safe?” He ask’s her, she shakes her head.

“No but I don't think you'll get hurt.” She assure’s him, she extends her hand pulling up onto his feet. She stands next to the water, twirling the knife in one hand.

“Alright, I'm a bad guy with a knife. I run at you, what do you do?” She asks him. He stammered for an answer.

“Run the other way.” He answered unsure.

“No.well yes, but not in this situation.” Cami tells him, she shakes her head.

“I corner you, what do you do?” She questions, he smirks looking her up and down.

“Well if you corner me, I think you have an idea what would happen.” He teases her with a soft smile. Her face grew red, she shook her head. “I…I'll stop that.” She say's trying hide her smile. “Okay I'm sorry.” He laughs, she steps closer than him.

“You get cornered, someone swings at you.” She speaks slowly as she lifts up the blade. She takes his right wrist, bringing it to her’s.

“You grab my wrist, tight like this and you.” She instructs him, turning around with a knife in her hand now aimed at her face. Her back pressed against his chest, warming him from the heat of her body.

“They're gonna try and fight back against you, if that happens and you're against the wall.” She continued as she pressed further against him, his heart raced. “You use it.”

“The wall is your friend, hold yourself as tight as you can to it, and then use your free hand.” Cami order’s, she shovels herself off him.

“And you stab them.” She explains, “You understand?” She asks him.

“Alright now you try.” Cami tells him, his brow’s furrowed. “Are you serious?” He ask’s her, she nods her head.

“Yes, I want to make sure you know this.” She says, he looked down at the knife in her hand. She drops it, noticing his stare’s.

“We can do it without the knife.” She assure him. He shakes his shoulders, loosening himself up. She swing’s at him, he grunts as he grabs her wrist. Copying the same move, her back pressed hard against him as he held her wrist with both of his hands.

“Like this?” He ask’s her, she smirks looking down at his arm’s, the veins popping with how tight he holds her.

“More or less.” She answered. “You forgot one thing though.” She points out, his brows furrowed.

“What? What did I do wr-” She sweep’s his leg’s out from under him, he grunts as he falls onto the sand.

He coughs as he looks up at the pink and blue sky. She gets on top of his hip’s, holding both of his wrists, smirking with victory. He groans as he blinks, bit’s of sand on the lens of his glasses blocking his vision.

“You didn't plant your feet.” Cami whispered, he shakes his head, the world spinning around him as he collects himself.

“Oh.” He groans. She removes her hand’s from his wrist, his arm’s laying out in a t-pose. She sits up, her leg’s still stradling him as the sun illuminated her shadow on the sand.

“Are you okay?” She wonder’s with a soft chuckle, he groaned in response.

“Super.” He grit’s at him, she shakes her head at his sarcasm.

“I'm sorry I just like seeing you this way.” Cami told him, he smirked with his brow raised.

“On my back? He wonders.

“Maybe.” She says, she leaned forward caressing his cheek as she brought her lip’s to his, smiling into the kiss as his hands gently held her waist. She inhaled pulling away, her knees digging into the sand.

“If my head wasnt spinning this would be pretty nice.” He comment’s, she smile’s shaking her head, removing herself from him, extending her hand for him to take. Both of them get to their feet turning around walking back.

⏁⏁⏁

SHE HOLDS her jacket close to herself, winter was bitterly ending and she could feel its effects as they both walked down the desolate street of what used to be San Diego.  Her body covered in chill’s as she desperately tried to keep her warm on the inside, she didn't want to admit to Bob. She was tired, not exhausted. 

Both of them had left at sunrise for the island, they knew it was gonna take a day or two to get what they needed for the couple hundred people on the island. There was already so much pressure on them she didn't want him to worry about her. 

A tap on her shoulders makes her turn her head. Bob pushed up his glasses showing her the pocket map of San Diego, showing her the key for the next place for them to raid. 

“How far is that?” Cami asked him, both of them already knew Sign Language before the world ended, she had taken deaf education at her college and taught kids. Him on the other hand learned it just because he wanted to. 

“Just up the corner.” He tells her, she nods her head.  “How are you feeling?” He ask’s her, she shakes her head. 

“Cold. But I’ll be fine.” She sign’s, he nods his head. “If you want to stop, take a minute we can.” He tells her, she shakes her head. 

“I'm fine, we have to do this.” She says, determination in her eye’s. He furrowed confused on why she was so set on getting supply’s.  

“Where else do we have to go?” She changes the subject. 

He sighed looking up at the cloudy skies, hoping it was going to rain so they could whisper to each other.  “Pharmacy.” He signs. 

“Excellent, what do we need?” She wonder’s, he pulls out a small notepad from his backpack. He was better prepared than her.  “Find painkillers, needles and bandages.” 

“And condoms apparently.” He smirks, hiding his laugh with a soft smile. She shook her head at their grocery list.  

“Stolen again?” Cami ask’s, he shrugs. 

“It wasn't me.” He clarifies, she raises a brow. “I didn't think it was.” She signed, his lips parted in o shape. 

“There's nothing you wanna tell the class, Bob?” She teases him, he playfully roll’s his blue eyes. 

“Shut up.” He signs. 

It was pure luck that she found him. Both of them met right at the start of day one, she was supposed to be meeting a guy for a date. He was there as well, she didn't think someone quite like him would be at a restaurant as nice as the one she was at.  They both started up a conversation with each other, then everything went down. 

One of the alien’s had crashed through the window of the restaurant, he had shielded her from the glass, and she had distracted them when they had to run away from the sound seeking creature’s.  Both of them agreed to stick together, having been that way for the last two years. They stop in front of a small pharmacy, its sign swinging gently in the wind, the window to the door broken as bit’s and pieces of the building hang out. She wondered what it may have been like for locals to have a pharmacy around the corner pharmacy. 

“Do you want me to get you something? Do you need anything?” Bob wonder’s, she shakes her hand. “Just get what we need, I'll be okay.” Cami reasure’s him, she appreciated his concern but it was starting to feel smothering.

She carefully step’s over the glass, being sure to not step on anything. 

She looked at the broken sign on the ground, while Bob grabbed pill bottle’s carefully. She was on a mission for something of her own. She felt in her stomach what felt like a cramp, she hoped that it was that so her hunt for feminine products would soon be over. Cami avoided the small mirror’s,her hair was greasy it almost made her happy no one but him could see her. She checked the scattered shelves, a neon pink package with the word’s, Tampax made her smile, happily snatching it up. Stuffing it away in her bag. 

Her brown eyes stop on a bright blue box, the world's First Response in bold font. She looked over the shelves grabbing it, shoving it down her bag. She touches her braid nervously looking around her. He turned around the corner, a white pill bottle in his hand and a water bottle in the other. 

“What is that?” She asks him. He turned the bottle around showing her the label, Advil. She nod’s her head, he takes out two, handing them to her. “Got what you need?” Cami asks him, downing the small red pills with water.  He shakes his head.  

“I need to look in the back.” He tells her. 

“Insulin and needles aren't usually kept in the front.” She reminds him. She shivers, holding her arm’s close to herself, walking past the counter.

A Hand written sign with the word’s, ‘Back in Five minute’s’ The irony behind it. 

Her tom lightly taps the floor. She had to trade out her sneakers for lightweight footwear, she was lucky enough to not have to be barefoot in this world. She couldn't imagine how it would be for someone living in their new world with no shoe’s. 

She was very privileged to be on the island; a year ago she and Bob had been hunkering down in a beach house when they heard the song. “Beyond the Sea” playing on their radio, Bob was able to trace the signal of the radio tower to a distant island. The wind outside howled loudly. 

He looks at the shelves for the medical supplies. Looking between the shelves watching the dark haired woman, her hair done in a single braid, the rest of her hair tucked away in a gray beanie.

He stop's in his trail, feeling a thick liquid beneath the sole’s of his feet, he slowly looked down, a pool of red, he covered his mouth as his heart fell to his stomach. 

His hand shake’s as he follows the blood trail, the white tile on the pharmacy coated in a thick line of brown and red.  His eyes widened as he looked down, a man with green eyes stared at him lifeless, holding his side as it leaked out onto the floor. The gash was deep, not from the talon’s of the creature’s. 

He looked closer at the deceased man, Bob could see several wound’s to man’s torso. His chest rose up and down as tears came to his eyes. 

He gasped as he feel’s an arm around his shoulders, Cami looked at him fearfully. 

“What is it?” She asked him, he pointed at the wall. Her heart skipped a beat as goosebumps flooded her body.  She gagged holding her mouth as a queasy feeling overcame her suddenly, she turned on her feet walking out the opened alley door. 

She emptied the contents of her stomach onto the wet concrete, she coughed as she kept reacting,he held her braid away from her face as she finished. Cami groaned softly, wiping her mouth leaning on the wall. “I'm okay.” Cami reassures him. Her brows furrowed as she tapped him on the arm, pointing down the alley.

Both of them look at each other then at the dumpster where a man with blonde hair in a mullet, holding a bowie knife coated in fresh blood that dripped onto the ground. He slowly looked up at the couple. 

Bob holds out his hand up in surrender, holding his arm to shield Cami from the possible threat. His lip quivered as his eyes stared at them widened, his breath shaky.  

The both of them could understand clearly what had happened. The man looked to the sky, inhaling deeply. Bob shake’s his head pleading with him silently, Cami stood up grabbing his hand with a tight grip. Their breathing shaky with fear. 

He looked at them one last time, determination fiery in his eyes. He opened his mouth a scream of agony, echoing off the city wall’s and back to them. 

Cami take’s Bob’s hand as they both sprint away. Their heart’s pounding as blood rushes from their heads, quickly and desperate to get far as they could from the inevitable. Bob gasps as he slip’s on a puddle collapsing to the ground, scrambling to get to his feet. 

Cami huff’s as she puts all of her weight on him, holding his mouth to keep quiet. His blue eye’s shadow over with tears as they are forced to listen to the inhumane crie’s filling the air. Glasse’s shatter’s once more as the hears the final blow from the creature.

⏁⏁⏁

THE FIRE CRACKLED and popped, the rain outside patterned away heavily on the roof of the abandoned home. Photos had since fallen off the wall, notebook paper with crayola drawing turning yellow, sometimes she would look at home’s like this and wonder what it may have been like.  Were they a big happy family that celebrated holidays with each other each year or was it a happy facade that hid away at the crack’s of the broken family. 

Bob look’s up from his book, neither of them were really speaking with each other. She didn't have much to say, her mind kept slinking back to the day’s events. She hadn't realized how bad things were in the city, how naive the both of them were. 

He takes a seat next to her on her sleeping bag on the floor. She held her knees against her chest as thunder rumbled outside. He leaned over to his bag, pulling out a small blue ipod with a spongebob sticker on it. 

He pulled out the wired headphones, untangling them.  “You brought that with you?” She asked him, he nodded. 

“Why wouldn't I?” He whisper’s, her lip’s form a thin line.  

“I just thought that it was too precious to bring with you.” Cami points out, the light from the fireplace illuminated his shadow onto the ceiling fan. 

“I didn't really bring it for myself.” He tells her. Thunder rumbled outside as he handed it over to her, she licked her lip playing with the button’s. 

“I know you like music to calm down.” He says, the screen lit up with a click of her thumb, she sighed sadly. He had found it during the first few weeks of the apocalypse, hunkering down in an electronics store in downtown San Diego. Most of the music left on the device being from 70’s to 2000’s, 

She clicks recently played songs. Hovering over the button. She wiped her face, her body felt fatigued.  

“I’m so tired.” She mumbled touching her braid, his brow furrowed in concern. “What is going on with you?” Bob wonders. 

“It's nothing, it's just ..been a long day, and you know it.” Cami dismissed. He bit his lip, she was downplaying her own problem and he wished that she wasn't. He didn't care much about how much they were able to pack away, he just wanted her to feel better. 

“Yeah I get that but you have been this way the last few days.” He point’s out, she shakes her head. 

“It’s not a big deal, I’ll be fine tomorrow.” Cami reasure’s. His gaze on her softened, the light of the fire reflected onto her face.  “I just don't.” He stuttered. 

“I don't want to see you get hurt.” He admitted, his deep voice cracking at the end. Her eyes darted as she looked at him  “Cause what If I end up like that guy in the alley?” He wonder’s. 

“You're not..you won't.” Cami shake’s her head, her voice smooth. she brings her hand’s to his cheek gently caressing him. 

“I don't want to.. I don't want to have to do what he did.” Bob says softly, she brings her lip’s to his forehead, holding him closely as he wraps his arms around her shoulders holding her closely, the warmth of the fire radiating from the couple. 

“You won't ever have to do that.” She whispered in his ear. “I promise.”  Her voice silky virated against him. He sighed into her shoulder, her hand’s trailed from his face to his shoulders holding him close, inhaling his scent of cypress. Still embracing they lay next to each other, with a free hand he grabs the ipod, his finger’s untangling the white wire’s. Placing one of the earbuds in her over-covered ear, clicking on the center button starting the music.

The soft guitar of Neil Young’s Harvest Moon play’s in her ear. Camile sighed in content, letting herself succumb to the fatigue that flooded her. The rain outside continued heavily, he kept her close, feeling her heart steadying as she fell asleep. 

⏁⏁⏁

THE FIRE died as the night went on, his broken watch showing the time, 12:09AM.  He couldn't bring himself to sleep, no matter how much he shut his eyes he kept seeing the man in the alley. The way his hands shook as he stared at the both of them, it was haunting to him how the man simply let himself die, not being able to live with what he had done. 

The rain had stopped, which did not settle his nerve’s knowing that it set him up for more danger. Behind him he can hear his girlfriend shuffle in her sleeping bag, on her lip’s a soft smile laid, dreaming about anywhere but where they were. 

During the day, he saw the color in her face slowly become sickly pale, draining the russet color from her. The bead of sweat she wiped away, saying she was just hot from the sun, he knew was a lie. He wanted to help, and she was too stubborn to admit she needed it, he sighed leaning over to his bag pulling out his notebook ripping out a spare sheet. Writing with his pen,  

“I'll be back, went to get more meds 4 u.” Doodling a smile with glasses, he smirked to himself at his own cheesiness. He set it down on his pillow in her peripheral sight, he hoped she didn't wake up early, he leaned over kissing her on the forehead. 

He wanted to reassure her he would be back, but he couldn't talk. He picked up the messenger bag with cans they had collected, tip toeing on the floor before getting out the front door. He walked through the vacant neighborhood passing by the overturned cars and abandoned bicycle’s. 

He had witnessed the horror of day one of their new normal. The way the creature’s moved at the slightest sound, the clicking that came from their flower petal head’s that he had only caught glimpse of.

This world was dangerous, scary and depressing. It would be much more difficult to do it alone, it scared him what may have happened if he had chosen not to be in that restaurant that day, would he be dead like everyone else? 

He stepped inside the pharmacy, being only a five minute walk must have been a godsend to the people. He avoided the glass on the floor, the backdoor lightly swinged as the wind outside howled.  

He looked at the blue signs that hung above the isle’s, flu and cold. His finger’s trailed on the cool metal as he read each box and bottle. He wasn't sure on which one would be the most effective, beginning to grab any that said Extra on them. A snap pulled him out of his focus, his heart dropped to his stomach at the sudden sound. He patted his side for his knife, it hidden away in his sheath. His initials etched into the brown leather, cami had taken the time to stitch in a feather for him. 

He rounded the corner of the isle’s. Scanning over the label of a bottle,  Maybe it’s allergies and she is just— He gasped as a cloth clasped down over his mouth, muffling his pant’s of terror, he desperately reached for his knife, his arms held behind his back. 

He grunted, thrashing back and forth trying to get out. His eyes darted back and forth, two men with their mouths covered by bandana’s. Other two stood off their faces covered as they stared at him down.  He groaned as his face met the wet pavement of the street.  

On his lower back, he can feel a weight pressed deep. One of the men scoffed, looking him up down, predator and prey.  He bends down, his dirty fingernails caressing his cheeks.  He snatched the man’s bifocal glasses off his face, his vision blurring instantly. 

“Where do you think he came from?” A bald man wearing a blue bandana signed. The other two shrug in response.  

“Might be hunkering down in those old suburbs.” Red bandana signs. They take Bob’s messenger bag, searching its contents as he trashed it against his captor’s. Setting down the can’s and pil’s softly on the ground. 

“You think he is alone?” Yellow bandana asked, Blue shrugged.  “You don't see anyone else do ya?” He point’s out. 

“We gonna take him to an auction?” Yellow wonder’s, Red’s knee pressed further into the man’s back, he bit down as the sharp pain shot through his body. 

“I doubt he even make it to the stage.” Red sneared, smirking with venom. A light metal clicking makes Bob perk up, bit’s of cement stuck to his cheek’s. Blue’s eyes widen as he read the lettering engraved into the dog tags. 

“Check it out, military.” He signs, Bob could make out some of their motion’s even without his glasses. His heart pounded in his ears as he listens to them toss his dog tag’s to each other. 

“What kind of name is BOB?” Red signed to blue, he shrugged with his sinister smirk. Red’s dirty nail’s dangled the medallion against his cheek. “Ronan said any military we take for question.” Yellow points out, blue and red look up at each other.  “Looks like we will have some fun tonight boy’s.” 

Bob grunted, thrashing as he was forced back up. These men were not friendly, and he was sure that these people were a part of the group that Fanboy and Rooster had warned them about. The radical’s who were desperate for blood.

⏁⏁⏁

HER BROWN EYES fluttered open. She turned over, the lack of a shadow casting from the dying fire confused her. The red plaid sleeping bag remained unpaid and a single notebook paper. 

“I'll be back, went to get more meds 4 u.” Cami’s heart pounded, he went off on his own- she think’s. She groaned, getting to her feet, holding her head as she collected her thought’s.  Maybe he went far and he was just taking time to avoid making a sound. 

She looked down at her wrist, her neon pink wrist watch with the cracked glass, the time reading; 12: 20AM. She hoped that he hadn't been gone for long and he was coming back soon. Her bare feet slapped against the tile as she walked across the floor, she hoped that she didn't step on the loose tile. 

 She walked up the stairs, looking down the empty hallway. Lifeless with the paint slowly peeling away, picture’s overturned or broken. It was sad, a family torn from the world so quickly. It reminded her where she had grown up with her parents till she was fourteen, going to live with her uncle Curtis on his ranch outside San Diego. 

She used to have a big family till her parents had passed away, her grandparents had long left her, and her only relative left was her doom’s day prepping uncle. He taught everything that he thought she should know. She used to think he was crazy and did too many hallucinogens as a teenager. To be fair to him now, she bet he was laughing when the alien’s showed up. 

Cami stepped inside a pink bedroom, a small twin size bed in the corner with unmade quilt sheets. The toy’s scattered on the floor, and clothes thrown around, her tinkerbell blanket acting as a makeshift curtain, it reminded her of her own childhood bedroom. 

CLING! 

She flinched getting on the floor, her heart pounded at the sudden noise. She covers her mouth leaning against the wall, listening for what may have caused the disruption. There is no one here, only two things could be responsible for the sound. 

The monster’s who hunted anything that disturbed their perfect world, she had been careful had they could have heard her, unless it was the other thing. People, and not good one’s. She pushed back the strand’s of loose hair, peeking over the window seal. 

In the street’s, two dark sholleute’s illuminated from the cloudy moon. Her stare fell to their hand’s, crossbow. Same ones that used to fire arrows on two survivors of the island, at least that’s what she had heard. 

What do they want? She thinks in a panic. Their light’s shined in each direction of the neighborhood, entering each house briefly looking around and it wouldn't be long before they would be looking in her house. Where’s Bob when you need him, she thinks. She inhaled deeply as she began to devise a plan, she had no reason to harm them they haven't done anything to her…yet. She moved away from the window, looking around for an object. If she could distract them it could give her time to hide, or fight. In the corner, a red and blue rubber ball, Perfect, She thinks, she tiptoed across the pink carpet picking up the ball clutching it to herself. 

Her feet padded heavily against the wood as she got to the master bedroom, she kneed the bed as she opened the window creaking with the crank turning.  She looked at the neighboring house, a tree with its leaves slowly growing back, 

Cami grunted as she threw it at the branches, it snapped bouncing between each other getting stuck. Both men look between each other, looking for the noise. She didn't spare any time rushing downstairs, she picked up her backpack as she watched them. 

Blue bandana walked around the front of the house, his grip on the trigger of his crossbow never leaving. She furrowed her brows as a glist from his pocket shone in her eye’s from the moonlight. She squinted her eye’s, her heart racing. 

A silver and gold tinted bifocals laid in his pocket, a scratch in the corner of the glass. This wasn't just any run of the mill glasses, it was the one of the man she loved.  Her blood boiled in anger pulling on the handle of her ebony knife. Red bandana’s heavy boot’s scruff against the tiled floor, his flashlight shining in each room. His partner with his blue bandana, follow’s right behind him. In the living room by the fireplace, that remained with ember’s, laid two sleeping bags unmade. 

He turned around. “Someone else was with him.” Red pointed out, he nodded. 

“Where do you think they went?” Blue ask’s, his partner shrugs with his light.  “Might have skipped out, trouble in paradise?” He joked. 

“You check the bags, I'll go look outside.” Red order’s him, blue mock salutes him with two fingers, Red step’s through the broken sliding door on the wood patio. In the center of the green backyard amongst the overturned swing set, a dirty pool with leaves floating on the top, green and brown coloring the water. 

His nose turned up in disgust, he can only imagine the feel of the water. He shines his light in the corner, looking around for signs of life, though he was pretty sure no one was in the house, does not explain the tree sound. 

Crack! 

He turned on his heels, looking around as his heart pounded in fear. He aimed his crossbow at the roof of the house, the sound didn't return easing his nerve’s. He gasped as his body met the cold water that weighed him down. 

He gasped for air as he broked for the surface. A figure blurred from the water, held him by the collar. 

“Where is he?!” She demanded, he coughs up water.  

“What?!” He ask’s, she grunt’s shoving him under, he gagged as he arose again. She holds up the bifocals’ to him. “The man, where is he?!” 

Her teeth gritted staring at the man.  “Tell me where you took him?!” Cami ordered.

“I dont know what the fuck your talking about!” He exclaims, she shakes her head shoving him over the edge of the deep end.  He grunted as flayed around under the dirty water, he was forced back to the surface again. 

“Where did you take him?” Cami demanded, her shoulder tense as her eye’s fired with anger. He shakes his head, faking confusion. She reached for her waist, grunting as she pulled out her knife, her blade grazing his cheek as he stared at her fearfully. 

“You tell me where he is, or I'll cut your fucking throat.” She threatened with her eye’s dark, gripping the back of his head, pulling on his wet hair. He groaned as she drugged her blade across his cheek, blood dripping into the water. 

“Steel plant.” He shiver’s out, her lip’s straightened. “Where?” Cami growled, her fingernail’s digging into his head.

“Ahhh…by the dock’s, they're keeping him there till Ronan decides what to….do.” He stammered, his eye clouding with tear’s “Are you lying?!” She growled, her blade pushing further into his cheek, he moaned in pain shaking his head. “No no I swear.” He state’s in a whisper. 

“Please..I have a wife, a baby…she is only two, you don't have to do this.”  The man pleaded with her desperately, blood flowing down his face as he begged her with mumble’s of please’s, and prayed. 

“You're wrong about that.” Cami whisper’s, his eyes widened, she shakes her head shoving him away from her. “Get the fuck out of here, and dont come back.” She ordered, he nodded his head. 

He quickly got out of the dirty water, climbing over the edge and stumbling away from her. She touched her wet braid as her mind raced with tought’s, she almost killed a man. She swam to the edge of the pool lifting herself up. 

With a grunt she is forced back into the water, she groans muffled as her body holds tight to the floor, she gasps as she breaks for air.  Blue bandana gripped her ebony hair with an iron grip.  

“Stupid bitch.” He whisper’s, she snapped away his wrist with her free hand, the other gripped the black handle plunging her blade deep into the man’s abdomen. A scream of anguish filled the air as did an inhumane roar. 

Sounds of tree branches and wood snapping. Cami takes a deep breath looking at the roof, she grunts as she dives into the shallow end, pushing the man into the deep end. In the muffled brown water the sound of splashing and screech’s play to her. She gasped for air, she held herself to the algae tiled end. The creature’s strong arm’s flung around in the water as it clung to the surface world, failing as its body slowly fell flat, floating dead. Cami sighed in relief, her body shivering. In her other hand, glasses with water droplets thankfully not cracked, and on the other her bloody knife. 

Where are you? She thinks. 

⏁⏁⏁

HIS BODY ACHED as he slowly regained his consciousness, he could make out very few things but he was sure he wasn't in the suburban home anymore. He groans opening his mouth, restricted to the feeling of cloth in his mouth and around his jaw. He grunted, against the cutting feeling against his wrist. “I wouldn't do that if I were you.” A voice whispered to him, he panted looking up from his lap. A blurry figure sat away, two other men stood next to the man in the center, staring him down like prey. 

“You know it’s one thing to trespass in our city.” The man start’s, looking between the two bandanas, “But to do it after that explosion two weeks ago is ballsy.” He state’s, Bob furrowed a brow. 

He shakes his head grunting against the cloth. “Relax, we just wanna ask you some questions, and here we can see it’s all deep underground.” 

“You know what else that means?.” He asked standing up, he placed a hand on the captive man’s shoulder, leaning forward whispering in his ears. “No one but me will hear you scream.” 

His blue eyes widened in anger, he gritted his teeth struggling against the rope that dung into his wrist.  The two men walk to the opposite side of him, one pulls the cloth away from his mouth.

“Who do you work for?” The man with his hair buzzing asks him, he shakes his head. “No one.” Bob answered truthfully, these men were not gonna know if he was lying or not. 

“Now son, you and I both know that god frowns upon lying, and if you lie to me I will assure you that your end will not be quick.” His southern drawl deep at the end, his lip’s form a thin line. 

“Where did you come from?” The man ask’s, Bob glared at him.  

“Nowhere.” He says calmly, the man sadly smile’s. He shakes his head, biting his lip. The man swing’s his face punching him in the jaw. Bob groans, his hair is grabbed forcing him to look up. 

He picks up a bag, removing the object’s from it. He set the can’s and medicine in front of him on an old tire. The man smirks, looking him up and down. 

“Who is this for then?” He demanded, Bob shake’s his head.  “No one.” He groaned as his hair was tugged on tightly. “We provide for those who cannot provide for themselves, we shower those with the fruits of our labor.” He quotes, chuckling darkly. 

“Certainly you werent gonna eat this can of peaches all on your own now were you?” His captor wondered. He rolled his eyes. “I like fruit.” Bob answered plainly. 

“Sure you do, and I bet that these.” He says picking up the orange bottle of oxy.  “Were just for fun.” He chuckle’s. 

“Yes, I want to pop one, good for the nerve’s, or are you already on to something special? .” Bob remarked, the man scrunched his nose up.

“Your a pretty mouth fucker for being tired up.” 

Bob smirked, in the back of his mind he was hoping that Cami had been smart and fled to the island. These men were more dangerous, and he couldn't imagine what they would do if they found her alone. The image’s flood his mind of her helplessly surrounded by men, the blood in him boiled in fury. 

“We don't get many of you because well you.” He chuckled again, taunting him in a way. 

“Now that.” He picked up a can of green beans, tossing it lightly. 

He grunt smacks the end of it to his nose. He moaned as his world spun around, he panted as blood trickled onto the concrete floor. 

“We can't have it.” He sneered. 

“Tell me where you came, better be the fucking truth.” He ordered, he gripped his dirty blonde hair with an iron grip.  Bob shake’s his head with wide eye’s. 

“Nowhere I swear I'm all alone.” He pleaded. 

“Now now Robert.” He spat out his name with venom. “We already said lying will get you nowhere.” 

“I’m not lying.” Bob state’s, the man’s eyes flashed with anger as he once again swung at his face, he shook his head in disapproval. 

“I know where you came from! And I know there are more of you, NOW tell me where your base is?!” He exclaimed, Bob licked his lip’s as he closed his mouth, copper filled his tongue as he stared in the green eye’s of his captor. 

“Military took my wife, she left with one and you are military so FUCKING ANWSER ME!” He growled in his face, his nail’s digging into his cheeks as he forced him to look at him. He remained silent. 

“Maybe some motivation will help.” He ask’s, he shoved the pilot away from him. He looked at the other men.

“Grab it.” He state’s. 

“Yes Ronan.” One answer’s he glare’s at them. “What did i fucking say about calling me by my name!” He exclaimed. 

“Sorry sir, here you go.” The bandana answers by handing him four polaroid photos. He smirked, holding one up to the tied up man. His heart raced as he recognized those picture’s imdeiatly. 

“She’s pretty.” Ronan say’s.  In the photo was his girlfriend, dressed in sleep short’s and his yellow San Diego shirt, grinning at the camera with her messy black hair unkempt. It was lazy morning for the both of them, he couldn't help but capture the moment. 

“Bet you would do anything for her, and you seem like the type to never want to leave his wife’s side.” He summarizes, his glare deepened as his thumb caressed her face. A fury burned deep in him, almost possessive. 

“I can respect that.” Ronan tell’s him, his heart pounded.

In this man he could see everything that this world had turned people into, the underbelly of humanity. He moved to another photo. 

“Now that is sweet.” He comment’s, holding it up. She had taken it spur of the moment, she kissed him on the cheek and snapped the picture.  “Now I bet she doesn't leave your side either. 

“You know I think…that you didn't come alone.” Ronan taunted, his blue’s eyes widened at his word. “Oh…she did, didn't she?” He covered his mouth in surprise. He pulled another photo out, the wolf whistled looking between the tied up man and the polaroid. 

“Now this one.” He start’s. He moaned, licking his lips and taking his seat back. He turned the polaroid around for Bob to see. His heart skipped a beat, in the image was a private gag photo she gave him, for him only, it was never meant to be seen by anyone. With the flash on, she had her shirt lifted with her bare breast exposed, winking at the as on hand covering her other bare chest.  “I bet she feels really good.” He scoffed. Bob shook with anger in his face. He blinked slowly as Ronan leaned forward to him. “Just between us.” He whispers. 

“How does she feel?” He questions with a wide smirk. Bob’s mouth widened as he spat dark red onto the man’s, he cackled as the man fell over onto the floor. He smirked with red blood coloring his teeth. “

How does that feel, huh?” He wiped his mouth on his jacket, spitting at the man again. His eye in fury looked at the captive man. 

“I’m not fucking telling you anything.” He spoke up. 

“Get him up,put him in the chamber.” Ronan ordered in fury. 

The two men forced the blonde up from his chair dragging him into a no longer functioning furnace. Both men climb inside, forcing the pilot to the metal floor. Ronan towered over him, bending on his knees. He cut’s Bob’s tape from his ankle, keeping his hand bound.  “See how you feel without a little bit of air.” He tells him. “In the morning he is done.” Ronan says, walking out. His blue eyes looked at him fearfully. The two men exit, closing the steel door with the slam of the latch. He choked as he felt the oxygen leave the room almost instantly.

⏁⏁⏁

THE TWO MEN SMIRKED, both inhaling on the end’s of their cigarettes, the star’s began to fade away, dawn approaching in a short hour. Four men played guard to their prisoner as they waited for the boss to give an answer to what they would do with him.  Two stayed outside while two more watched downstairs in the basement. 

“How much did you win from that game?” Yellow bandana ask the man in black black, his brows furrowed as he thought. 

“11 grand.” He signs, yellow nodded impressed with his partner. “Shit, wish I had that.” He says, from the shoot that led down to the basement, a man in a black baseball cap and purple bandana emerged. 

“What are you doing?” Yellow asks him, he climbs over looking at the both of them.  “Taking a piss.” He signed, they grimaced as they shook head’s at him.

“So how long did you stay there?” He asked his friend, and he shrugged. “About twenty years, then I left.” He answers. 

“Damn man.”He sign’s off, a grunt in the distance catche’s their attention. They spun around to look at the other end of the factory.  The other guard return’s, adjusting his hat. 

“Get clogged up?” Black bandana signs, he looked up, flipping them the obscene gesture with his middle finger. They chuckled as they kept smoking. 

Downstairs the guard climbed back down, his boot’s thumping heavily against the ground as his baggy jacket swung around.  In the center of the basement, Bob remained tied to the chair he was in. His face littered with different blow and cut, his arm’s slumped down as he looked only at his feet. 

“Damn that was quick.” Green bandana comments, he nodded in agreement as he circled the room looking at the prisoner. Green slumped against his chair, holding on to his crossbow. 

“He ain't talking, guess we took it all out of him.” He commented, he looked at the stack of tires next to him, the polaroid photos still laying there. He smirked, reaching for them as he admired them. 

“Fuck.” He grumbled with a lick of his lips, he looked at the battered man sitting across from him

“You know if we find your lady you mind if I have a spin with her?” He asks him. 

“It’s cool if you do..but im keeping this photo right here.” He tells him holding up the nude photo of Cami, his stare staying on the ground.

 “Hope you understand..I don't get much action these days if you know what I mean.” Green scoff’s. 

“You don't but that’s alright.” He grumbled, the man looked down at the photograph again, his palm kneading the end of his pant’s. 

 “Damn.” He whispers. Green leaned over to purple, he stops as he looks at him. “Ever seen a rack like this?” He asks cackling, purple’s deep laugh’s slowly at his friend as he admires the photo. 

He lunged forward, wrapping his arm under his windpipe, locking him in place as he gasped for air, clawing at purple’s arm’s as he desperately clung to air. His slowly closed shut as his body fell slump, unconscious. Bob furrowed his brow confused at his actions. 

“Why did you do that?” He wonder’s, purple turned around marching over to him, unsheathing a knife from his waist, cutting through his ankle restraints.  “Why are you helping me?” He wonders. 

“Because who else loves you enough to come after you.” A female voice say’s, his heart flutters as he recognizes the deep brown eyes that looked up at him. He smiled warmly as she removed her bandana. 

“Cami?” He breathed out. She caressed his cheek, running her thumb softly over the cut’s on his face.

 “What did they do?” She asked in disbelief.

 “They tried to break me.” He whisper’s out, she shakes her head getting up, she grunt’s cutting through the duct tape around his wrist. He groan at the pressure leaving his hand’s, and she walked around. He brought his hands to her cheek’s, cressing the scratches and cuts on her cheeks. 

“Are you hurt?” He asked her, his thumb running over the dried brown stain on her cheek, she shook her head.  “I'm fine.” Cami stated. 

“Did they hurt you?” He asks again, she grabs his hand pulling them away from her.  “No..save your voice, we don't have much time.” She tells him. 

“What are you talking about?” He wonders, shaking his head confused. She looked down at the unconscious man, she walked over to him snatching his bandana off his face tossing it to her boyfriend. 

“You put that on, his jacket should fit you.” She explains, she collected the thing’s removed from his sack, shoving the polaroid photos in the bottom.  “You're gonna go upstairs, pretend to be him.” She order’s. 

“Okay then what?” He ask’s her, she grunts as she takes off the heavy jacket from the bandit, tossing it back to him. 

“He comes back down here, I will knock him out.” She explains. He hadn't seen her this way before, taking charge and so focused. It almost scared him, and helped him with how was feeling. 

He wanted to tear these men apart for even daring to mess with them, for even thinking of touching her the way he does. She picked up the crossbow from the ground, reloading it, turning to look at him. 

“When you get up there, knock out the last guard, we aren't too far from the boat and I already put our bag’s there.” Camiele quickly explained to him, he nodded his head compiling. He put his arm through the large jacket, wrapping the green bandana on his face. 

 “How did you find me?” He wonder’s, she turned on her heels. “What my uncle taught me.” She tells him blankly. 

“I cant believe they fucking took you.” She grumbled, her shoulders tense as moved things around. His mouth parted at her fury. 

“Did you kill them?” He asked her, and she stopped. 

“Not me, the creature heard one when he tried to kill me.” She state’s, his heart pounded at her fast pace. 

 “It doesn't matter if we have to do this now or never.” She continued. He grabbed her hand as she walked by, she looked at him in his teary blue eyes as he stared at her. Without his glasses, he truly looked like a battered man with each bruise that was forming on his tan skin. 

“You didn't leave.” He says, her gaze softened for a moment. “Never.” She whispered, she leaned forward on her tiptoes kissing his cheek. She pressed her forehead against his. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” She whispered, pulling away, he adjusted his cap on his head. He walked over to the ladder, turning to look at her. Good luck, she signed to him. 

He takes a deep breath as he begins to climb to the hatch. He carefully pushed up the lid, setting it back up. His heart pounded in his ears as he swung his leg’s over the metal, he strided over to the two men chain smoking. 

They laughed, turning to him.  Yellow raised a brow at him. “Switched already?” He signed to him. 

“Yeah, he’s in the chamber.” He signed in response. Black scoffed.  “Being mouthy again?” He asks him. 

“I ought to teach em something about respecting superior’s.” Black sneared, bob’s shoulders shook in anger, he cleared his throat. 

“Well do it then.” He signed with a dark chuckle. 

Black nodded his head, flicking his cigarette. He patted green on the shoulders as he paced over to the shoot.  Bob leaned against the brick wall, looking out at the skyline as the sun had picked through the yellow and blue night. 

Yellow tap’s the ground. “With all these people coming back, maybe we will find that place.” He tells him, he raised a brow.  They kept asking about the island, mentioning something about a wife. 

“I don't know I kind of like this.” Bob played along, yellow took a drag of his cancer stick blowing out smoke. 

“What?” He asks him. He shrugged.

 “Getting killer view’s like this.” He pointed out at the sky, Yellow turned his head, leaning out, he smirked under his facial covering. It looked like something witnessed in a painting, with each color perfectly chosen. The man gagged as the windpipe was blocked, he clawed at the arm that choked him. Yellow grunt’s he elbowed the man behind him, Bob stumbled back, he panted holding his bruised rib. 

Yellow’s eyes darkened, he tackled him onto the concrete. Bob huffed as he clawed at him with the strength he had left, the man on top of him growled as he wrapped his fingers around his throat, squeezing the air from his lungs. 

Bob gagged as he scratched at his face, pushing his face cover off him. Yellow’s smiled looking down at him, he gasped as sharp pain was felt into his back, he turned over his shoulder seeing a woman with a dark braid. 

He gripped the blade that stuck out his back, his eyes widened as he removed it from his back, hissing with his teeth as he held up the blood soaked metal to the rising sun. He grunts as he swung at the young woman. 

She ducked, kicking him away from her. Yellow’s arm’s are restricted as he backs into a wall, into a person. Bob grunted as he pushed the blade away from himself, keeping his feet firmly placed on the ground, pressing deep against the brick as the man fought hard. 

With his free hand he gripped the man’s hand, plunging the knife into his throat. The blood dripped down his mouth as he stumbled around, desperately stopping the blood that gushed out, finally collapsing to the ground with a gurgle. Bob sighed in relief, turning around. His hand shaking as his heart pounded, he couldn't believe what he had done, he had killed a man. He didn't think he was actually capable of actually killing someone, much less stabbing one.

Cami’s breath shake’s as she extends her arm’s bringing him close. The morning cold shivered up and down her body, he placed his chin on her forehead as they held each other. Her brown eyes rolled into the back of her head as she began to feel faint. She fell forward into his chest, he grunted catching her with both of his arm’s as she laid limp against him. 

⏁⏁⏁

DAWN HAD finally come, shining through the windows of the small home. On the plaid couch in front of the fireplace, Camile laid asleep, a fluffy blue blanket clutched against her body. She groaned, turning over as her brown eyes slowly fluttered open. 

Her eye’s slowly adjusted to the bright light that shined. She recognised where she was, the familiar scent of cedarwood and bayberry filling her nose, bit’s of clothing on the floor and on the mantle photos from the world before. She was home.

She didn't have time to relax as her tongue watered with an awful taste, she clutched her mouth as she leaned over to the teal trash bin next to her, emptying the contents of her stomach into it, she gagged as the potent smell filled her nose. 

She moaned in relief leaning back against the couch. The floorboard creaks making her perk up, she turned over looking in the kitchen arch way. There stood her boyfriend, wearing jeans and a dark green henley shirt, unbutton at the top. “Are you okay?” Bob ask’s her, she nodded her head touching her forehead. 

He walked over to her, a plate in hand as he sat on the coffee table. His face was cleaned up, the cut’s on his head covered with a small white bandage. A bruise painted his lip’s, his bifocal covered most of the damage done to his eyebrow. 

“What happened?” Cami wonder’s, he sighed.  “You passed out, and I had to drag you to the boat.” He explained plainly, he handed her a cup of water with two red tablets in his hand. 

“You have been asleep since this morning, and I had you checked out at the infirmary, you weren't hurt.” Bob reassures her, his voice low and raspy, probably from the suffocation. 

Cami groaned sitting up, her bare legs being met with the brisk and warm air of the small cottage. She looked down, she guessed that he had changed her clothes for her, graciously he kept her shirt on. 

“What about you?” She wondered, he shrugged the question off. “Couple bruised ribs, busted lip and eye brow, fancy shiner growing on my forehead as for my eye’s.” He stop’s, her eye’s widened. 

“What..what is it?!” Cami asked concern, his blue eyes met her dark eyes. 

 “I don't think I can see very well.” He tells her, his lip’s forming a mischievous smirk, she shook her head at his behavior.  

“Not funny.” She scold’s him. He bit his lip shaking his head. “Couldn't resist.” He says. 

She leaned forward, taking the drink from him, swallowing the water and pill’s. Slushed the water around in her mouth to get rid of the puke taste, spitting into the bin next to her. She groaned holding herself. 

“Feels Like I was hit by a truck.” She joked to him, laughing weakly. Her hair had bit’s coming out, he knew not to touch her hair unless she allowed him to, she allowed her hair to grow long then ceremoniously she cut it when she knew it was time. 

“Well I can imagine.” He says, she looked up at him. 

“Bob..I’m sorry..I should have been on guard..you were just trying to help me and I just.” She stuttered out, he shook his head. He placed his hand on her’s.  “Stop-it wasn't anyone’s fault, and definitely not yours, Cam.” He reassures her. 

“We both knew they were in the city, and you got hurt trying to help me.” Cami countied, he shook his head. “I should have fu- I should have just stayed.” She mumbled. 

“You didn't, and you didn't leave me behind either.” Bob reminds her, his voice soft with reassurance.  “You fought like hell.” 

“And would do the same for you in a heartbeat.” He state’s, her heart skipped a beat in her chest, her eye’s darting between his as she relaxed, his hand’s holding her own. She looked down. 

“What is it?” He wonder’s, his calloused hand rubbed circle’s on her palm. She took a deep breath building up the courage in herself. “Bob..I uh.” She stop’s. She inhaled again. “I think I’m pregnant.” She revealed, his lips parted as he stared at her. 

His heart pounded as his mind began to flood with image’s as thing’s finally added up. Cami looked at his concern, the color left his face as he just stared up at her in shock and confusion. 

“Are…are you sure?” He mumbled, she shrugged her shoulders unsure. “I think so, I mean look at the signs right?” She chuckled, he blinked, running his fingers through his hair. “You're not..mad are you?” Camile asked, her heart dropped to her stomach at the thought of him leaving. He shook his head as his mouth began to form a smile. He placed his hand on her shoulders. 

“No No I'm not mad, I could not be mad at that.” He gushed excited, he laughed as he brought her into a hug. He vibrated against his shoulder as he crushed her in a bear hugger. Cami smiled against him as he slowly rocked her back and forth. 

“Please tell me this is actually happening, please.” He pleaded with her, his hand shaking against her back. She chuckled, nodding into his shoulders.

“Cam, that's amazing.” He gushed. 

“It’s all real I swear.” She gushed. He pulled away from her, wiping away the tears that stained his cheek. “Oh don't cry.” 

“I’m not–I just can't help it.” Bob tell’s her, she shakes her head as she leaned forward, pulling by his cheek, inhaling  deeply as she kissed him. His free hand caressed her waist, his thumb grazing over stomach. She pulled away as she embraced him once more, the sunlight illuminates their shadows onto the hardwood floor.

TAGGED: @sorchathered @fairyheart @mamsieur @sugarcoated-lame @sebsxphia

[freneticfloetry]

I'm trying very hard not to make this split snippet thing A Thing, but it's difficult when your ADHD brain won't settle. So it's yet another dual fandom day, this one dedicated to Lim, because she has made me unspeakably happy with Knave-verse happenings.

Shocking no one, neither of these is actually seven sentences.

Thanks to @carlos-in-glasses @heartstringsduet @strandnreyes @welcometololaland @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @bonheur-cafe @lemonlyman-dotcom and @liminalmemories21 for the tags.

First up, yet another slice of esta noche (which is so close to being done, damn adulting and my fickle muse):

TK takes his fiancé’s face between both palms and pulls him in until their foreheads knock together. “It’ll be okay,” he says softly, hoping Carlos can hear all the ways that he means it. “Now get out of here. The sooner you handle whatever this is, the sooner you can come back home.” They hang there for a moment, one with eyes wide open and the other’s sweetly shut, and there’s something suspended in the scant space between them, something precious and fragile and sacred. He’s close enough to count Carlos’ eyelashes. It’s still too soon when Carlos starts to move — brings his free hand up to squeeze TK’s hip, tips his head back to press his lips to TK’s temple. “I’ll text you.” “You better.” Throat burning, TK lets go. He musters up another smile, curls his fingers into fists and shoves them in the pockets of his sweats, just to keep himself from reaching out again. “Bye, baby.”

And once again, a wild FirstPrince appears:

“I’ve never actually… done this before?” Henry raises an eyebrow, and Alex rushes ahead with more words, as he is forever wont to do. “I want to. In case that wasn't clear. Like, fuck, I’m gonna enjoy the shit out of this. I just, you know… need you to tell me if it sucks.” His grip tightens almost involuntarily, at odds with the wide-open earnestness on his face, and Henry sucks in a breath and fists both hands in the sheets. By his estimation, there's enough resolve left in him to either respond in a way that's calm and collected or refrain from coming in his pants, but not nearly enough to do both. “Alex,” he says, hanging on by a thread despite the fact that he has literally dreamt about this, “I cannot stress enough what a virtual impossibility that is. The mere act of you breathing in the general vicinity has already made my top three.” Alex blinks, struck seemingly silent for once in his life. Then he grins, slow and wide and bright as the sun, even as his eyes eclipse. “Pretty sure I can do better than breathe on it,” he drawls, “but hey, if that’s what you’re into, sweetheart.”

Tagging in @never-blooms @paperstorm @reyesstrand @rmd-writes @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @ladytessa74 @herefortarlos @three-drink-amy @walkinginland @orchidscript @carlos-tk @nancys-braids @whatsintheboxmh and @alrightbuckaroo !

[thewertsearch]

Ask Comp 19/10

That's true - we don't know for sure that Trollian can fully emulate Sburb's surveillance capabilities.

If the trolls were sufficiently motivated, though, they wouldn't actually need to. Sollux could probably hack one of the kids' computers, to gain access to their Sburb viewport - although if he did, he wouldn't need a camera to snoop on their messages.

Is there a paranoia Aspect? I think I've finally found my calling.

anonymous asked: heya! ive just finished re-reading your ENtIRE liveblog and i to send asks about some stuff but i waited to finish so im sendind everything at once! (im gonna send stuff in a bunch of small asks so cat can stop just one instead of the whole thing in case of accidental spoilers) (aslo hi cat!) (also its ninnoy, havent sent an ask in a while but i changed my pfp to something slightly more spoilery so im in anon now) [...] the jade pen pal thing, do you have any new theories on who it could be?

None! I'm sure that it's someone derived from Grandpa Harley, but everything else is a mystery.

I have no particular theories about who he is, how he knows Jade, where he got his hands on so many endgame weapons, or why he's got such an antiquated accent if he's watching movies from the 80s. I assume time travel is involved, but that doesn't really narrow anything down in a comic like this. He (she? they?) is a complete enigma, and I'll just have to wait to learn more.

ALsO WHEREs YOUR sONAs? we havent seen them in so long im afraid sahlle might have actueally died of meteor strike (joking of course) also have you realized that "sally" and "cat" are both one letter of from a valid kid name? you could lend her one of your "L"s

I've actually been workshopping some Quest stuff for Sahlee this week! I suppose I'd need to figure out her Title first, though, and for that, I'd need to get a more solid idea of her personality, and how her experiences on Alternia have shaped her.

in one of your last posts you seemed to imply that the multiverse exists inside the timeline, but ive always read it as the opposite, the timeline inside the universe that would explain why the trolls can pick any time from the humans universe to talk to them but cant have private conversations with their own futute/past selves, its not an inherent part of trollian, they are just outside the human timeline (the memos are still trollian being time fucky) dont know if that makes any difference but its a thought also i realize the tag may be unecessary due to my quirk, but its too late to stop now

(NOTE: quirk omitted for readability, but the substitutions are [t -> 7, s -> 2] - sort of a variant of Sollux's quirk. I actually don't think we've seen any quirks which add a 7, so the voice here is distinct from any trolls we've seen so far. I like it!)

Originally, my assumption was that each timeline contained a duplicate of the entire multiverse. Doomed timelines don't seem to let you communicate with other universes/dimensions, though, so they don't need to contain other sectors of reality. I'm currently of the opinion that doomed timelines only contain an instance of the dimension they were doomed in. The only timeline which contains the entire multiverse is the Alpha.

This mechanic keeps doomed timelines simple, but in-universe, I don't know why it exists. Much like the Alpha itself, it's a mystery I can only speculate about.

has the shipping chart been updated since the last time we saw it? also you (at some point) said that equius<>feferi was a controversial ship so i had to go back to check the notes and i was the only person i found talkig about it so i guess im the whole controversy? if thats the case i would like to thank you for recognizing me as the equius<>feferi number 1 hater (all jokes of course)

I got a few skeptical asks about Equius<>Feferi, but you're the only one who discussed it on the post itself. I guess by some measures, you are the most dedicated hater, because your hate was posted publicly! 🤣

I could make one or two changes, but I don't want to post a new chart until the kids meet the trolls in person, hopefully at the end of the Act!

The Scratch, naturally - but I'm also looking forward to seeing exactly how WV was Exiled. He's currently on Skaia, and Jack has lost interest in him, so who's actually sending him through the portal?

Tavros is barely a presence on the Land he's ostensibly the hero of, and all of his actions are being dictated by a third party who can physically control his body. This third party does not acknowledge or respect Tavros's own desires, effectively forcing him to play the game in a way that she personally approves of.

She claims it will make him stronger.

@bladekindeyewear submitted: That was a long, thorough, and fantastic response! It's fascinating seeing your opinion on these things-- and I'm glad to see that considering the questions we've given you seems to have made you more paranoid. But I'm just not entirely sure you're paranoid ENOUGH. Not yet. Much like how you just found that "BREEZE" quote in your Breath research, back at around the time you've now reached in the comic, we had dozens of theory-miners combing back through everything that had been said and shown in Homestuck, over and over again, searching for anything we might have missed that might have been of some importance. [...] So, uh….. how do I put this… Would you prefer to strictly handle that sort of thing all by yourself, as you've said? Which I'd agree is still the best way that you should keep to, for the most part? Or would you mind if I gave you just a CRUMB of an example, only one? A tiny bit of text that we in the theory community only found at about the time you've reached in the comic, even though it was more than a thousand pages earlier?

Shit, this is such a dilemma. I'm honestly really torn.

See, I'd probably find old fandom theories absolutely fascinating to analyze. I'd love to know how closely my ideas align with those of the early Homestuck fandom, and whether I'm saying anything really out-of-pocket. My analysis of Sollux's ~ATH script was apparently an original theory, and it's honestly one my proudest moments.

But that's also sort of the problem, isn't it? If I dive too deeply into other people's fan theories, they'll start to affect my own - and if I'm introduced to a really compelling fan theory, it could end up replacing any homegrown theories that I could have developed in lieu of it. If someone had send me a well-reasoned ~ATH theory before I did my own analysis, I'd probably have been less motivated to make the analysis in the first place. After all, many of my questions would already have been answered by a clever theory I just read.

People are free to send me their own off-the-cuff opinions on what's happening in the comic, or their own takes on any meta I write. I get a lot of asks like that, and they're some of my favorites. There are also asks which spoil a little too much, but I'm still interested in their takes, so Cat's saving them for later. We don't really delete asks - we just delay the ones that aren't necessarily appropriate for a blind liveblog.

Obviously there's a fine line here, and whether a given ask is a theory or just an opinion is a little subjective - but in my opinion, the influence that asks and submissions have had on my analysis has been relatively minor. I don't think many of my theories have been spawned from an ask, or killed by one.

This is a little different, though, because it's part of a theory that was crowdsourced over several years. It doesn't sound like something that could be inferred by an individual, so I'm not sure if it's something an individual liveblogger should necessarily know about? If I start crowdsourcing my analysis, my theories will be less Wertsearch and more fandom consensus, and I don't think I'd enjoy that as much.

I really want to know, but I think I'll enjoy the liveblog more if I don't. When I finish the comic, I'll gleefully analyze any fan theory that anyone sends me - but for now, I'll just have to wonder, and come up with theories of my own!

Yeah, we've really been getting into it with Vriska lately. I've enjoyed trying to explain and predict her actions, and I'm glad people don't think I'm going overboard when trying to analyze her.

When a character does something interesting, I don't like to move on until I have a theory about why they did it. Sure, it may be refuted later, but it needs to be something that's consistent with what I currently know about their personality.

Vriska takes a particularly long time to puzzle out in this way. Her motivations are derived from a complex web (lol) of factors, including Scratch, Spidermom, her rivalry with Terezi, her horrendous relationship with Tavros, classism, teenage hormones, quadrant politics, highblood society and the Alternian culture of violence. They all inform her decisions, and any combination of them could have been the catalyst for the latest Vriska Incident.

I want characters to make sense to me, and Vriska is written to deliberately challenge my attempt to achieve this. Her meta is fun to write, so I'm glad it's also fun to read!

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

I CAN NOT WAIT FOR YOU RAINY DAY HC!!! IM CHOMPING AT THE BIT....

THE last anxiety H/C soothed my DNA beyond...I JUST CAN NOT WAIT..

Ok listen know this is a weird one but...your last Hojo got me REALLY thinking him as a person...does that man get any physical contact/needs etc. *wink wink* I'm GENUINELY curious...I figured men like that don't even process those thoughts because...brain focus is elsewhere...I always figured he'd consider an act like that dirty/beneath him or even "a thing for the common man/test subject" ...you can totally dedicate a separate ask just for this one because I have a feeling we're gonna deep dive on this one.

Nsfw.

And your feeling was absolutely correct! I am gonna deep dive on Hojo and fucking. I recently made all of the homies sick with Hojo. First I'll keep it sfw.

Cuddling? Hugs? General affection? Very below him. Might allow you to be touchy with him at times, he won't engage the same sort of affection. If you really want to cuddle he'll let you curl up beside him at times. Throws an arm around you subconsciously and claims he was just trying to adjust his position. If you come and lay down on top of him, he'll let out a heavy sigh but he's not going to move nor is he going to ask you to move. I'd say he would tolerate physical affection but it's not much of his thing. There was a meme that went "Trying to comfort the homies life" and it's someone patting their friends shoulder with a broom stick while hiding behind a door frame. It's giving Hojo.

I can't see Hojo as being completely uninterested in sex. I say he definitely fucks. The Costa Del Sol chicks?? Nobody can tell me he wasn't fondling them. idc idc. Lucrecia, yes yes I know it was for experimentation but he was probably hitting the fuck out of her from the back on a regular. Look at her! I don't see him having sex often but I do see him very occasionally indulging himself. I kind of doubt sex is beneath him, it's a natural function of the human body after all and he's a man of science. Hojo, in my eyes, probably has a breeding kink. (hope you don't mind the tag) @h0jos-f4vorite-t3stsubject got me thinking about a birthing kink with Hojo as well. He's probably bred way more experiments than we can imagine. Hojo fucks in the name of science. Anyways, he doesn't feel as though it's a necessity, just something he'll do from time to time.

[sophieinwonderland]

Wishing for anti-endos to loose all their friends and spaces and to be ostracized does not help pro-endos. It makes anti-endos even more set in their beliefs. It makes people who are on the fence go "yikes, I guess the anti-endos are right". I'm firmly pro-endo and your recent post makes me want to take some distance. This isn't how we gain allies.

I know, these people suck. I know, it hurts to constantly be excluded and hated for the way our brains work or the reason why they work that way. I know, many anti-endos are too far gone and aren't people that you or I can reason with unless they decide to unpack their shitty beliefs.

But posts threatening them is not the way to go. They already see us as the enemy. We don't need to add fuel to the fire. Let's make sure people who are on the fence or who don't know much about non-traumagenic systems see us acting in ways that make them want to listen to our side instead of the fakeclaimers. Let's make sure anti-endos who are starting to rethink their beliefs feel like it's safe for them to do so and to start listening to pro-endos.

I'm sure this post is gonna get lots of interaction. But if it makes people less likely to read your studies, to listen to your arguments, to hear out the systems messaging you about their experiences? That's all for nothing.

I... actually think adding fuel to a fire can be useful sometimes. As long as you can keep it a controlled burn.

I'm counting on most anti-endos on Tumblr who would be scrolling through the syscourse tag already having me blocked. They won't see my post.

I'm counting on neutrals probably not following my blog or the syscourse tag either one. And most of those that do follow syscourse have already made their minds up about me.

I made that post for a very specific audience. One that doesn't actually need anyone to fuel its fire because they've built an entire community on seeking out systems to mock and attack. They already cherry pick the worst posts they can find to keep their friend group indoctrinated. So adding one more to the pile shouldn't matter to that specific group.

I don't think anything I say is actually going to make them hate the endogenic community more than they already do because they're surrounded constantly by people who will always reinforce that very generalized hate.

But I do think I can direct that hate they already have. Focus it as much as possible on one specific person. Me.

And the more they see me as a threat, (whether or not I am,) the more hateful they respond to me, the more their community will crack.

Users will be more likely to break their rules, making moderation in their subreddit more difficult for the unpaid mod team who will hopefully start rethinking how much of their life they want to dedicate to a hatesub moderating an angry userbase with nothing to show for it.

And while a slim hope, I'm waiting for them to be pushed far enough for Reddit to ban the whole subreddit.

So yeah. I don’t mind tossing as much fuel on the fire as possible if there's a chance their ableist hatesub burns.

Besides... I'm not actually saying anything untrue.

Plurality IS going to become more accepted. They ARE losing the scientific argument. And anti-endos and cringizens WILL lose friends and community support as plural acceptance spreads unless they're willing to change. A safe space for endogenic systems can never be one that houses anti-endos.

This is not a threat. This is a promise. It's a natural result of progress. And I'll do my part to accelerate this. But it's going to happen with or without my involvement.

I'm just making sure that when it does and they go looking for someone to blame because things have gone bad in their lives and their bigotry caught up with them, they'll direct their anger toward me instead of anyone else.

(Although maybe they can direct it inwards too since, you know, it was their fault for being bigots. But I think that would be too much to ask for.)