#if u all were so kind and hot to fill up the interest checker on the source link 🤤

[2pookie]

[scoobysnack1107]

So grateful I was able to commission the incredible @rainbow-taishi again for another gorgeous RokuNami piece! As always, Jin did an absolutely amazing job! The colors and atmosphere are warm, the expressions soft, and the detailing exquisite 🥺💞 Thank you again Jin for making making my day and bringing a huge smile to my face 💖

For anyone interested, I wrote an accompanying story!

You can read it below or on ao3: Un Rendez-vous Romantique

(special thank you to @jysumrae for using her French skills to help me with the title 💖 )

                                       Un Rendez-vous Romantique

 Naminé checked the time on her gummi phone again. Five minutes before seven o’clock. Five minutes before Roxas was supposed to arrive at the bistro for their date. Their first date she reminded herself.

    All around her, tables were filled with laughing couples sharing colorful concoctions that were placed onto tables by waiters dressed in well-tailored suits. Naminé, dressed in her signature white dress and blue sandals, was the only one sitting alone.

    She couldn’t help but wonder how seriously he had taken the idea. He had been the one that asked her out with that boyish grin she was powerless to resist. But this was the first time they would be together like this. Unencumbered by heartless, the Organization, Diz. Tonight, it was just the two of them in the most romantic place in town.

    Unless…he stood her up.

    Naminé’s heart sunk, and as the people milling by the bistro cast her curious looks, she started feeling more and more self-conscious. Did they think he wasn’t coming?

    “Don’t worry, Naminé. Trust me, he’ll come.”

    Startled, Naminé looked up and found Sora offering her a comforting grin. He was dressed in a white chef’s uniform and tall toque that somehow managed to stay atop his spiky head of hair. In his hands, he was carrying a large, unopened box decorated with golden fleur de lis and something scribbled on top in black marker.

    “Sora? Why are you—” she trailed off, suddenly remembering that her friend had become an occasional helping hand at the restaurant during his travels. Though, admittedly, it was strange to think of Sora as a chef in a high-end bistro like this. “Thank you. I guess I’m just a little nervous.”

    In the distance, the bell of the clock tower tolled, signaling the passing of another hour. Seven o’clock.

    Sora had to be right.

    “Excuse me! Coming through!”

    Outside the bistro, some kind of commotion had started. The tram stopping in its track as a boy riding a black and white skateboard came racing through. A flock of pigeons wandering the bistro’s checkered plaza dispersed in a flurry of feathers, and one of the waiters nearly dropped a plate of ratatouille before said boy arrived in front of Naminé’s table with an apologetic smile.

    “I am so sorry, Naminé,” Roxas said, finally catching his breath, “I promise I didn’t forget. Really. I got caught up delivering letters again because Lea ‘sprained’ his ankle and couldn’t finish his half.” Roxas shook his head. Of all the days Lea felt it necessary to fake an injury.

    Naminé couldn’t help herself. She laughed, and the anxiety that had been chipping away at her nerves dissipated with the sound. “It’s fine, Roxas. I’m glad you were able to make it. I can’t say I expected that kind of entrance though.” Another laugh slipped past her lips when she noticed a stray feather in his hair.

    Roxas scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “I can’t say I really planned it that way.”

    Plucking the feather from the skater’s head unceremoniously, Sora handed his friend the box he was holding. “Well, now that you’re finally here, I’d say it’s time for you two love birds to enjoy your date with a little Tarte aux Fruits, courtesy of Little Chef and I!” Sora patted his toque affectionately, prompting a tiny gray mouse to peek out from beneath the hat before scurrying back inside with a squeak. “He’s a little shy,” Sora whispered.

    “He’s cute,” Naminé cooed.

    Roxas flipped open the lid of the box to examine the dessert. Inside the box was a round and colorful tart decorated with fresh strawberries, blueberries, kiwis, and peaches. “Sora, you know it’s just the two of us, right?” Usually, the bistro only served the desserts by slices. Not entire tartlets like this.

    Sora pushed the lid back down and pointed to the writing on top.

      Enjoy your date!

      - Sora and Little Chef

    “Yep! But you’re my friends and Little Chef insisted. It’s not like you can’t take the leftovers home. I’m sure Lea and Xion would eat a few slices for you.”

    Curious, Naminé stood up to peer inside the box too. Sora really was too sweet.  Everything about the dessert was handled with care, with each fruit arranged so precisely, Naminé could only imagine how long her friend had spent perfecting the delectable concoction. “Thank you, Sora. This is perfect, but you know, we’ll be saving you and Little Chef a slice too. It wouldn’t feel right for our chefs not to taste their own creation.”

    “Heh, guess not,” Sora agreed, scratching his cheek.

    “You can drop by the Old Mansion after work if you’d like,” Naminé suggested, “No one goes to bed early anyway, since it’s summer vacation.”

    “Yeah, and plus, you still owe me a rematch on Classic Kingdom Melee,” Roxas said with a competitive glint in his blue eyes.

    Sora chuckled and laced his hands behind his head. “So eager to get your butt handed to you again?”

    “I have Naminé’s good luck charm this time,” Roxas said confidently, “So, there’s no way I’m gonna lose again.”

    “We’ll see,” Sora said in a sing-song voice. The two boys jibed one another for another minute until Sora was called back into the kitchen by a short, portly chef with a silver whisk and a toque taller than him.

    Roxas set the box with the tart on the table and moved to pull Naminé’s chair out for her with a flourish. “Madame.”

    “How gentlemanly,” Naminé giggled as she took her seat.

   Taking the chair across from her, Roxas signaled over one of the waiters who promptly brought them two plates and utensils to slice their dessert. Naminé, her hands small and adept, cut them each a generous piece.

    The window behind them cast a warm golden glow and was embossed with the bistro’s name, Le Grand Bistrot, in neat gold lettering. Inside, the restaurant’s staff busied themselves, the sound of clattering dishes and whirring kitchen appliances blending with the soft instrumental tune floating from the speakers outside.

    Naminé spoke again first. “So, you and Hayner are entering the Struggle Tournament this year?”

    “We’re gonna win this year” Roxas boasted with a grin. He picked up his dessert but didn’t take a bite as sparks of excitement began to dance in his eyes. “We’ve been training every day since sign ups.”

    “Confident I see,” Naminé teased.

    “Always,” Roxas returned, his grin turning sly, “And besides, I’ve won the digital version once already. The real thing can’t be any harder.”

    Naminé conceded with a smile. “That is true.”

    As Roxas explained his new strategy for this year’s tournament, Naminé listened attentively, offering nods and questions at different intervals as she nibbled at her dessert. She liked seeing him so excited. After everything they had been through, happiness like this was well-deserved.

    “Promise to cheer me on?” Roxas asked. His gaze was intense now, making Naminé’s heart skip a beat.

    Naminé averted his eyes, playing with her hair as she answered shyly. “I’ll be in the front row the entire time.”

    “U-Uh, thanks” Roxas blushed at her words and drew his own gaze away. “But um…anyway,” Roxas coughed, “How about you? You mentioned buying some new paints the other day. Have you been able to try them out yet?”

    This time, it was Naminé’s face that lit up. She pressed her fingers together and tilted her head happily. “I have! I’ve been painting lots of landscapes with them, and I want to try portraits too.”

    “Is this your subtle way of asking me to be your model?” Roxas joked.

    “Mmm, maybe. Though, I’m not entirely sure you’d be able to stay still the entire time.”

    Roxas raised his eyebrows. “That sounds like a challenge.”

    “You really think you can sit still for more than an hour?” Naminé asked dubiously.

    “With the right kind of incentive.”

    Without hesitating, Naminé replied. “Sea salt ice cream?”

    “Bingo,” Roxas said and bit into his slice of the tart.

    Naminé didn’t try to conceal her laughter. Roxas really was predictable. And adorable.  “I think I can arrange that.”

    “Then, we have ourselves a deal!” Roxas held out a hand across the table, and Naminé shook it as if it was actually some kind of serious, contractual agreement.

    The two continued to talk, reminiscing over the new memories they had made in the real Twilight Town. Like the first time they had all gone to Sunset Hill for a meteor shower or when they took that impromptu trip to Radiant Garden because somehow Twilight Town had run out of sea salt ice cream. Granted, it had been a particularly hot day. But still…

    “I feel like summer vacation is too short,” Roxas complained, “and who thought it was a good idea to assign homework? We’re supposed to be on a break.”

    Naminé’s lips twitched knowingly. “You still haven’t started, have you?”

    “I tried, but the computer keeps crashing on me, so I can’t do any kind of research,” Roxas explained, pouting as he crossed his arms.

    “You and computers,” Naminé sighed, shaking her head, “What are you writing your report on?”

    “Not sure yet. Hayner, Pence, and Olette want to do something about the seven wonders, but that’s a little too déjà vu for me, you know?”

    Naminé tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, maybe you can do a report about the beach?”

    “The beach?” Roxas cocked his head curiously.

    “Yeah, like what kind of fish are in the ocean here or ways to keep our beaches clean,” Naminé continued. Roxas loved the beach. The first time they went, Roxas nearly tripped over himself running across the sand to get to the water, and he didn’t come out until it was time to leave.

    “Looks like we’re going to the beach this week then, huh?” Roxas asked with a coy grin.

    Naminé returned the smile.  “Looks like it.”

    By the time they were ready to leave, with their leftovers secured in a to-go bag, the last embers of the twilight sky above had faded, blanketing the sunset hues beneath a veil of stars. The night air was still, the bustle of the usually busy town subdued as most citizens retired to their homes to sleep.

    “I had a lot of fun tonight,” Naminé said, staring down at her feet bashfully.

    “Me too.” There was a brief silence that hung between them before Roxas added in a hesitant but hopeful voice. “Maybe we can do it again sometime?”

    “I would love that,” Naminé answered softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

    “Y-You know, there’s gonna be that new movie playing down at the theater this Friday. We could grab dinner here and then go see that?”

    “It’s a date!” Naminé agreed happily, and her heart soared.

    Roxas took her hand and intertwined their fingers. “It’s a date.”

[ariespageofbreath]

I’m gonna give another Rq if it’s fine? Skele!Reader (If it’s fine) are playing checkers with Grillby, Reader asked him how’d he known Sans

HI SORRY THIS TOOK A WHILE i know you probably don’t mind but i feel bad so thank u for your patience :’> hope you don’t mind that it’s a little shorter!

Challenging Grillby to checkers without ever having played before was… admittedly not your best move. 

For one, the bartender was incredibly hard to read, and Bird’s “helpful translations” were… not really that helpful. Especially when they started fighting over moves and translations with their friend. You really appreciated the thought, but honestly, you kind of wished they’d just quiet down for a bit. They made it so hard to concentrate.

For another, well… really, what did you expect, trying to win a game you’d never played against someone who’d been doing it for years? The rules were simple enough; that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that you kept making bad calls. When you looked at the number of pieces Grillby had taken in comparison to the ones you’d stolen, they were dreadfully uneven. He was demolishing you. The worst part? This wasn’t even the first time. Or the second.

No, currently you were on your fifth game of the night, and no closer to beating him than before. Letting out a groan of dismay, you set your skull on the counter and scratched at your vertebrae. You wondered, not for the first time, why you thought this would be a good idea.

To be honest, there wasn’t really a reason. You’d had the set sitting in your house for a long time, and you figured hey, why not break it in with everyone’s favorite hot bartender? 

You are filled with regret.

“Hehehe. Still keepin’ our skele-buddy in check, Grillbz?” an all-too-familiar voice pipes up next to you, prompting you to turn your head from where it rested to eye the grinning skeleton on your other side. Sans had already made himself comfortable in his usual spot, resting his chin in his hand as he snickered at you. 

Grillby turned from your game briefly to retrieve him a bottle of ketchup, sliding it across to Sans, who gave him a wink before tipping it back. You grimaced. Thanks to him, everyone kept offering you condiments as drinks. You’re pretty sure they thought it was a skeleton quirk, instead of just a Sans quirk. 

“Hey, why the long face? You should know that Grillby’s the king of checkers,” Sans quips, wiggling one finger at the board to accentuate his point.

You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nasal ridge with your fingers. “Thanks, Sans. That’s really helpful.”

He just grins, reaching over to pat you. “Hey, always happy to help a friend.” He leans over, observing the board for a moment and taking another drink. “Want a little advice?”

No? You’ve been getting “advice” all night from other patrons at the bar; the last thing you need is Sans giving you advice, which will probably be something along the lines of “quit while you’re ahead”. But you don’t wanna be rude- and who knows? Maybe he’ll have something actually helpful to say. “Sure. Why not?”

There’s a mischievous gleam in his sockets. You’re regretting a lot of things tonight. “If you can’t take the heat, stay outta the kitchen.”

You knew it.

“.......................Sans,” Grillby abruptly speaks up, surprising any of you in hearing distance. His voice is quiet under the noise of the bar and filled with an undertone of playful scolding. “................don’t be rude.”

Sans chuckles quietly, sipping on his ketchup. “Sorry Grillbz. Just couldn’t resist ribbin’ ‘em a little. I’ll behave.”

You highly doubt that, and it’s clear from Grillby’s skeptical silence that he doubts it too. Sans holds his hands up as though in surrender, sliding off his stool. “Okay, okay, I know where I’m not wanted,” he jokes, swiping the ketchup as he goes. “I’ll ketchup with ya later, Grillby. Kid, I think you can mustard up a winning strategy somehow.”

While you groan again and drop your head back onto the counter, he waves goodbye to Grillby and saunters out of the bar. You pick yourself back up, giving Grillby a tired look. “How do you put up with him? He drives me crazy and I only see him a few times a week, but you’re stuck with him all the time!”

Grillby shrugs, carefully moving a piece on the board. Then he picks up a glass and begins polishing it while he waits for you to take your turn. You resign yourself to seeing out your last loss of the night and the end of a conversation, but Grillby pipes up again unexpectedly. “...............i’ve known him a long time… we’re old friends.”

He’s talkative tonight! You lean forward on your hand, briefly forgetting your game in favor of a story. “How did you even meet, anyways?”

He finishes off the glass in his hands and gently sets it in its place, then scoops up another and gives it the same treatment. He sounds nostalgic as he begins to speak again. “...........it was a long time ago……. Him and his brother came from nowhere…………………. They were hungry, so I let them in……….. I gave them some food…” Here he pauses again to set away another glass. “And Sans kept cracking jokes. And after that………….. He started coming in regularly.”

...That was a little anticlimactic. But still interesting! Especially since he was talking so much. But you were curious. “What do you mean, “came from nowhere”? Where did they live before?”

Another shrug. He pauses briefly, the glass reflecting the flickering light of his fire. “...............they just appeared. They wouldn’t tell anyone where they came from……………. And no one’s asked since.”

That was so weird. You should have known they’d have a strange backstory like that. “Huh. I’m… kinda not surprised. They’re certainly a mysterious pair…”

Grillby crackles in agreement, then gestures to the board, subtly signalling that he was waiting for you to take your turn. You sigh and examine the board, then look up at him hopefully. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ll tell me how to win this game?”

You think you see his eyes curve from behind his glasses as he shakes his head.

[olympus-summit]

Kind Cruelty | Shinobu | Trial 5.3 | re: almost everyone; ATTN: Outer Observatory visitors

That’s, uh. A lot more people than Shinobu was anticipating, and they visibly freeze when Monty lists off that many names. Their ace isn’t looking so hot anymore. It doesn’t help that this confirms their suspicions that despite old discussions, no one actually had followed through on buying a second stock checker during the secrets motive, and somehow Montgomery of all people ended up taking the last one.

“…Side note, we’re trying to preserve favor vouchers as long as we can. I think there's only one or two left, and I think all of us would feel better having a public discussion before it’s bought.”

There isn’t anything accusatory about that: If Monty genuinely didn’t know about the council’s agreement on limited-stock items, then that’s on them for not telling him. But resources grow ever slimmer regardless of intentions, and it’s better to say something late than never.

There are more pressing matters anyway. Shinobu’s got their notebook open on their lap, writing as people speak. They don’t quite have anything they think is worth presenting, but it keeps names organized while they think. Speaking of which…

“…A-Alright, alright. Now that we have names, I’ll explain now: In the outer observatory, there’s a pond filled with robot koi. On their undersides is a note explaining that Argus will give a gift in exchange for poetry, but will be put to sleep by music. As far as I’ve searched I can’t find this same clue anywhere else here… It does have some mythological relevance that someone could conceivably guess at, but I-I think that’d have to be a damn lucky guess.

What I’m saying is… whoever played that recorder likely either visited the outer observatory, either buying the ticket or accompanying someone who did – or they were told information by someone who was there. O-Of course, now that we know Sol had a ticket too, that… complicates matters. Unless anyone can testify they were with him? U-Um, on that note I’d like Mina and Monty to say who, if anyone was with them o-on their respective trips. I can guess based on everything else you’ve said, but… I want to be sure.”

Shinobu doesn’t have hope that anyone would implicate themself with an admission here, but maybe someone they were with would be willing to talk.

“Mn… I don’t recall having told anyone about Argus’s weak points? Not even at the meeting. The closest I came to it was telling Evren about the koi pond this morning, but even then I didn’t mention the notes.

And… there’s one more complication: Argus’s gift included another Sky Ticket – again, Dr. Rivera was with me when I received it and accompanied me on my second trip outside. That said… you’d have had to already know about the clue to know to give him a poem. S-So, um, I don’t… know if that factors in? Argus said he didn’t give a ticket to anyone yesterday…”

The more Shinobu hears themself talk out loud, the more what little confidence they had coming into this seems to deflate. It sounded so good when they said it to Evren and Adelina, but now with much more critical eyes upon them, scrutinizing every word…

They decide it might be best to focus on different evidence, like addressing Evren’s question.

“Argus… might’ve been used to move Sol from the restaurant to the observatory. He’s one of the taller people here, so it’d be difficult to move him around even for anyone of similar height, right? Argus has a ball for a foot. I-I think if he was immobile, he could maybe be used as, ah… a wheelbarrow, of sorts? Again, both Argus and Sol had wine stains on themselves – could wine have transferred from Sol to Argus?

I-If this was the plan then clearly the person who brought the audio device planned to put Argus to sleep – a-and where would you even find an audio recorder, anyway? I couldn’t find any in the music room or studio, didn’t see anything like it in the control room…

The knife, I-I don’t know why it was there. I-I thought it’d have been used on the cable too, but it wasn't cut at the ends, it wasn't scratched or slashed, so I don’t even know where it could’ve…”

Shinobu’s fast-paced ramble comes to an abrupt stop, and they blink slowly.

“…The peacock statue? One of them was, um, chipped on its beak! I haven’t figured out how that could’ve happened… Actually, I thought Argus might’ve clipped it, b-but I didn’t see any damage on him. Did… did anyone figure out what might’ve clipped the statue?”

Hindsight, and all that. Shinobu attempts to recenter themself on the… more important, more grim subjects that kept coming up.

[ CW Discussion of suicide and hanging ]

“…Let’s say it wasn’t murder, it was an accident or… o-or something else.” They can’t bring themself to say it. “…but… there has to be at least one other person involved. Someone that at the a-absolute least removed the noose from him, and likely moved him, too. If they truly are a bystander… why haven’t they spoken up yet?

Even i-if we refused to believe them, even if we blamed them – withholding information does the same amount of damage to their credibility, and to the case. Remember, it’s not whoever gets the majority that dies, it’s… it’s either random, or it’s whichever one of us throws ourselves on the sword first. A-And I’m not sure if Prometheus will be persuaded a second time.”

How generous Prometheus was, listening to Elliott sob about how he was the only one that deserved to die, and agreeing with him.

[ end CW ]

“If that person is a bystander, it’s in their best interest to confess anyway: Letting us get this wrong is also asking to die. Unless… there is something specific th-they are hiding. Something they think is worth being silent for in spite of the risk.”

And who here would take such a risk…? Shinobu isn’t sure anymore. If the last trial and all that’s happened since then have proven anything, it was that the gentle are capable of cruelty and the malicious are capable of kindness.

Is silence, too, someone’s kind cruelty?

“ …I … As it stands I still believe this is a planned, deliberate murder.”

[royalrastafariannaynays]

for the short fic thing: au where rose runs a paranormal investigation company, if you don't mind? it can be as silly or serious as you want. btw your davekat and rosemary fantasy aus are enchantingly lovely! you have this writing style that's just really, idk, decadent? like every new chapter of gardenia is like opening a box of chocolates except instead of a box of chocolates it's That Gay Shit and this metaphor escaped me but I LOVE YOUR WRITING

((

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Misadventures of the Ghastly Variety

It started on a rainy day. Just another day of waking up, Dave telling you that you had no real job, and that your job was essentially just hype. Over coffee, of course, as is his ritual. Not like his job was any more “real” than yours, seeing as he was a desk jockey for the front lobby of the local Recreation Center. 

Being a glorified identification checker is a real job, there’s no doubt about that. But Dave had this habit of getting bored with something after a couple of months, and then moving on. This one is lasting awhile, though. Maybe it’s the cute kickboxing instructor. Tall, “thicc”, dark hair, dense olive skin. Eyebrows so bushy a family of squirrels could nest in them. Auburn eyes. 

It’s a description you’ve heard nearly every other day, in passing, as he’s toasting his morning Everything bagel. In varying designs and circumstances, stories of how aggravatingly delicious this guy is, in between spells of dreaminess at being chewed out for not having the right schedules on the wall by said paramour. 

But enough about Dave’s silly crush on the instructor, or even Dave, your perpetual freeloader in your apartment. 

No. This story is about the night you met Her. 

The ghost from your dreams. 

Now, it started on a rainy day. Dave, with his usual thing. You, with your fourth cup of (decaffeinated) coffee, which was mostly liquid black as tar, and entirely too much sugar to be healthy. 

That night, you were scheduled to check out a local “haunted” church for your popular TV show, “Misadventures of the Ghastly Variety.” You’re not quite a celebrity, but you do live in a decent condo in upstate New York, and spend entirely too much money on your cat, Paws the Third. Helpfully named by Dave, who bottle-fed the young thing for you after rescuing it off the street three days after the death of your last feline friend. 

It gave him great joy to nurture and be a helicopter cat parent, even if the little rascal ended up not quite liking him once it reached adulthood. 

After giving the cat a kiss on the forehead, and Dave a kiss on his as well, despite his protests that you only did it for the ironic value, you set out. 

And oh, it was a rainy day. 

It would take you half the day to set up at the old (but small) cathedral, even with your set up crew. And it would take the other half of the day to make some of those rather corny clips describing the background of the place, and then talking to the owners of the venue. After a short nap, you would record some footage for several hours inside the church. And then, once done with that, you would do some smudging, and a small ritual to cleanse the spirits of their anger. 

It’s kind of your thing. The little ritual is your special... quirk. Adding witchcraft to the paranormal investigator thing is kind of why you’re so popular. And it gets you some interesting footage. 

It’s all white magic. 

Mostly. 

Don’t worry about it. 

After setup, and your crew was recording and taking notes on sounds and things, you headed into the depths of the place. You spent maybe an hour in the main chapel, and nothing happened. 

And then you spent an hour walking past a few rooms, several of whom housed crypts. There were some odd noises, but nothing too incredible. You made a reaction to something minor, made some hollow commentary about the coldness of these rooms. Your EMF reader buzzed a few times. That much was typical for an old church building with rusty pipes. There was some more activity, another draft, in one of the crypts. It was a priest. You crossed yourself, and the draft stopped. 

More commentary. 

Maybe your job was fake. It paid the bills, though. 

So you walked through the first floor one more time. You stood in the pulpit, and made sure to shine your camera light at just the right angle. And you held your crystal in front of it. Your dousing crystal. 

It should have just... 

It should have just been the light from the night vision camera. It would make the prism in the crystal light up oh so perfectly. But. 

The crystal suddenly felt warm in your hand. 

A tiny voice spoke up from your ear. Ah yes. The speaker. Your crew. 

“You’ve been silent for fifteen minutes, Rose.” 

Fifteen? 

How did. 

Nevermind, you remember thinking.

Once you moved from the pulpit, the crystal dimmed, and felt cold once more. 

You spoke a bit about it, for the audience. But not much. 

And then, the little speaker in your ear signaled that it was time to move downstairs. So you shook your head, clearing your thoughts. It was an unusual circumstance. And if it was really a spirit, they meant no harm. 

You would know it if they did. 

As you passed through the stone steps to reach the basement, you remember everything went cold. 

You don’t remember saying anything, although the recordings show you filling the air with more typical, aimless nonsense that connected the history of the location with paranormal sightings. 

The majority of them were in the basement, you had said. 

That wasn’t the information you’d been given by the groundskeeper. 

You remember that everything got colder, colder. And then suddenly, it was all bright. A hand was reaching out to you. 

It was soft-looking, delicate. Beckoning through the bright light that was making your camera fuzz out. The little viewfinder in the film would be nearly blank, later, from the ground. All of the other cameras in the basement would report that they had just. Skipped a moment in time. 

The hand was pale, paler than any skin you had seen. 

You remember reaching out, and taking it. 

You remember being pulled in, so close. And everything was warm once more. You could see her, clearly, in this bright light. A technician in your crew was nearly shouting in your ear, asking what was going on. 

The most beautiful and terrifying chords played simultaneously on loop in the front of your eyes, and the most blissful colors were music in your ears. And her lips were so soft. So soft as she held you there. 

Her body contoured to yours, her breasts soft despite the burning icy cold of her mouth. And hair, short and cropped under the habit on her head. A thousand wings and a million eyes all staring at you from a void of nothingness and everythingness.

The air got blistering hot, and her fingers were freezing cold. 

And with the touch of her lips you were everywhere and nowhere at once. 

It was all too much. 

Copper taste in the back of your mouth, and warmth dripping from your nose and ears, and. 

You woke up in the hospital. 

“Was it good footage?” you asked, when you woke. 

“Yeah. Yeah it was,” Dave said, after he finished crying. 

“I think I saw an angel,” you whisper, hoarse. It feels like you’ve been screaming. The footage you see later will confirm that. 

When you pick up your hands, there’s something burned into the skin just below your wrist. It’s tiny. It looks almost like... words? ‘Kanaya.’ 

What in the name of dark beings does that mean? 

“You’re full of shit, Rose,” Dave tells you. Hes using your hospital gown to blow his nose. Probably because he knows you’ll hate it. 

“I guess so,” you reply. Staring at that burn on your wrist. 

Did you? 

Was she an angel? 

[chocochipbiscuit]

agenthill replied to your post “Rare ship problem: shipping the thing, then realizing I am too much of...”

whats the pairing ��

acc0rdion replied to your post

“Rare ship problem: shipping the thing, then realizing I am too much of...”

Yeah what's the pairing, I can try indulging u

....I realized I probably should have actually mentioned the pairings because I made it sound far more Mysterious than it really is!!!!

(also like seriously gosh that’s a sweet offer but don’t worry about it because I seriously need to just get over myself!!!!)

like I have absolutely zilch zero nada shame about any of my favorite ladies (other than the borderline terrified realization that I was so hard up for DH1 femslash that I was considering shipping Granny Rags of all people, but that realization has come and gone with the realization of Damn Good Delilah/Breanna content for my fill of Hot Villainous Ladies) or my F/F ships, so I don’t mind squeeing or commissioning or writing about them

I have absolutely zilch zero nada shame about writing any of my own kinky smutty super self-indulgent mutie porn

I have absolutely zilch zero nada shame about yelling into the void about my fave muties and monster dudes

but like. when it comes to actually telling an artist I would like to commission art for the huge lumpy caricatures of masculinity that most mutants are, I just

I feel like the universe is giving a cosmic sigh like “really? really? all the great ladies, all the more conventionally handsome dudes, and you want the ones who in-game look like they got hit in the face with a shovel?”

which really just makes me curl up and whisper “but I loff them”

look Them Big and I am extremely weak

Okay now the actual weird rarepair ship listing that I am 99% sure are just me in my tiny kayak are basically almost any character combo involving my fave muties from Fallout.

(note: Dog is always post-synthesis God/Dog for me )

Boone/Marcus: LOOK I see this as a post-Wild Card ending with Boone just needing to get away from it all, go to Jacobstown and try settling down with some of the other vets and there’s some huddling and some smooching and some kissing and a rubbing and a hugging and checkers on long cold nights before Boone tries that Jacobstown Challenge again

Keene/Marcus: I deffos hc that they were a Thing before FO:NV, and still have an on/off tense friends with benefits thing because while they genuinely like and respect one another they have fundamentally different perspectives on the future of Jacobstown and clash too often for their relationship to ever be easy

Dog/Keene: Keene’s big and mean, Dog can be pretty damn mean when he wants, there’s a lot of rough affection and heated arguments and maybe it wouldn’t be a very long relationship but GOSH they’d be fun

Dog/Erickson: LOOK Dog is Dog, Erickson’s used to dealing with wild animals that have reasons to be wary of strangers, it’s a thematic match in heaven and I want them to kiss.

Dog/Fawkes: Fawkes is afraid of giving in to his primal side, Dog is all about that primal side. Odd couple and battle-buddies and I originally had a F!LW/Dog/Fawkes love triangle thing that was meant to resolve into a surprisingly functional and loving poly ship but I don’t think I’m ever going to finish that because it got too dang long and plotty. Plus I’ve lost most of my interest in writing any LW fics

Mean SOB/Pretty Sarah/Sweetie: MY FAVE BABES OF FREESIDE!!!!

Madison Li/Preston Garvey/Virgil: though tbh I ship any of the dyads in this trio too, I just think they offer more to each other as a group!!! Virgil absolutely wants to show love and care and affection to the most kind and beautiful man he ever met, Virgil also wants to show respect and admiration to the scientific peer he holds in the highest esteem, and I just imagine Preston and Madison approaching each other trying to give The Speech to be careful with Virgil’s heart before realizing they’re trying to give each other the same speech.

honorable mention to Beatrix/Calamity/Keene (which I already wrote!) but as I hc them, none of them are inclined to super-soppy displays of affection and any of the ‘oh look, they’re all actually pretty sweet together and interacting!’ pics I might request of them would get scandalously into NSFW territory

Again, it’s just. I keep telling myself to write the super-indulgent mutie ship fic but 1) I need to straighten out my own headspace with that fandom, and 2) I think ‘oh yeah, I can ask someone to draw this’ and then I remember that it involves telling an artist, someone who may not actually know me personally and smile indulgently at my dorky foibles and predictable tastes, that yes, yes, I do want ship fic of the big green (and purple) lumpy dudes

[pawlikautomotive]

Pawlik Automotive Ford Explorer: How Reliable Are They?

Bernie Pawlik, Pawlik Automotive Vancouver, BC

http://pawlikautomotive.com  (604) 327-7112

Mark: Hi it’s Mark, Top Local, we’re here with Bernie Pawlik, Pawlik Automotive in Vancouver, 17 times voted Best Auto Repair in Vancouver by their customers. How’re you doing Bernie?

Bernie: Doing really well.

Mark: So, we’re going to talk about the Ford Explorer. It’s got a bit of a checkered history, a friend of mine who owned one nicknamed his as the Exploder, kind of had a lot of problems with lawsuits and rollovers, what happens with Explorers?

Bernie: Well speaking of that or those older models with the rollovers, that was an interesting issue. The Explorer was an incredibly popular vehicle when it came out and the rollover issue, a lot of it may not of been so much the vehicle but the tires and even the recommended tire inflation. What Ford had recommended is to inflate the tires to 26 psi which is pretty low inflation for a tire, especially a truck tire and the reason they did that is just so the vehicle would have a nice, more car-like ride as opposed to a bouncy truck ride. But the thing that happened with a lot of people is they don’t check their tire pressures, you loose typically a pound of pressure a month in your tire, so eventually not looking at if for a year those 26 psi tires were down to about, I don’t know, about 14 psi. Then everyone loads their vehicle up for a family holiday with lots of weight in it, the tires get hot, they explode. So you know, the vehicle, being the type of vehicle it is, it tends to roll over. So thats kind of a lot of what happened with that vehicle. I think had people filled their tires up to like 32 or 35 pounds, a lot of that may not of happened. So anyways, with that out of the way, lets talk about more modern Explorers because people aren’t buying a1986 Explorers any more, they’re looking at newer ones in the 2000 range. So there’s a lot of issues with these vehicles. Typically what we we see most of are engine problems, especially 4L engines,we see them continuously coming in with rattling timing chains. These are older and getting on with around 200,000 kilometres which is really high but the way the engine is designed there is a timing chain at the front of the engine for one bank and the timing chain at the rear of the engine for the other so you can just imagine if the rear chain fails, which it does, you have to pull the engine out to take it apart. It’s really expensive and really by the time they happen it’s almost usually not worth fixing.

Mark: Wow, so are there any other engine problems?

Bernie: Oh yeah, their engine misfires caused by bad ignition coils or spark plugs, I mean these don’t pop spark plugs out or seize spark plugs like the F-150’s and the other Ford engines but those are problems that happen. Coil failures, spark plugs, also cooling system issues, they use a lot of plastic parts in the cooling system like a lot of manufacturers, so the thermostat housings will leak and fail, radiators too are a pretty common problem, especially in the, I’m just looking at a couple of notes I have here, around the 2006 model year. For some reason radiator failures are really high, so that might be a model to avoid, we’ve repaired them and all sorts of different ranges of years.

Mark: How about the transmissions?

Bernie: Transmission failures are a really common item on these vehicles and that’s, as the vehicles have gotten newer, the 2010 range the transmission issues seem to have gone away but again, the earlier ones, a lot of failures, even going back to those earlier generations to flip over types, the transmission problems were really common in those too.

Mark: Steering, suspension, drivetrain?

Bernie: Fairly good, yeah not a lot of problems but again, we’ve run into electronic transfer casing issues from time to time but the differentials, the drive shafts, those types of things, they all seem to be built pretty solid, nothing exceptional in that area.

Mark: How about inside the vehicle, the common failures, a/c, heating, power windows, doors, locks?

Bernie: We seem to fix a few issues like the heating system like heater blower motor but nothing unusual. The fit and finishes, I just say ok, I mean we see a lot where the plastic interior parts wear out but that’s more of a cosmetic thing than anything else, but the power windows and those sorts of things are fairly reliable.

Mark: So bottom line, would you recommend a Ford Explorer for someone as a vehicle for someone to buy?

Bernie: Not really, no. To be perfectly blunt, I mean they’re nice vehicles when they’re new but there’s so much, so many things that go wrong with them. You’d be better off, dollar for dollar to look at something else, maybe a Toyota Highlander or something, not sure if I’m comparing the right equivalent vehicle there, but there’s other vehicles to look at. So if you want to fix your Explorer, we’d love to take care of you. We do a lot of them and we do it well.

Mark: So there you go, if you need to make sure you get the full life out of your Explorer in Vancouver, the guys to see are Pawlik Automotive. You can reach them at 604-327-7112 to book your appointment or check out their website pawlikautomotive.com. It’s world famous now, thanks Bernie

Bernie: Thanks Mark

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