#if you view it positively your outcome is different ya know????

[reginamillls]

I get loving a side character I do so I like to view them as like a lil treat

the main characters are your dinner, they're the main course if you will and you need to eat dinner every day

you don't need a dessert after every dinner though

so when a side character does come up, it's a fun surprise, and you end up getting your lil treat at the end of dinner

[unforth]

I'm glad your KS problem got solved. Can you please use some time to post about Palestine? People are being killed in your name. Use your platform please. Thank you

Hey anon! So...no, I won't be doing that. What the fuck do you even mean "people are being killed in my name"? Absolutely no one is killing in my name, and I owe talking about it more to no one.

First, I trigger pretty severely to harm to children, which automatically means that a great deal of the coverage of Palestine is very triggering for me.

Second, I think there are plenty of people already blogging about this, that not every single blog needs to become wall-to-wall discussion of Palestine, and that mass-blogging about the conflict is entirely performative.

Third, in general I rarely blog about political events, and when I do it's virtually always US election (FOR FUCK'S SAKE YOU HAVE TO VOTE) and/or things about censorship, because those are the areas that interest me and that I personally feel strongly about.

Fourth, I think the demand that a stranger blog about that one specific event, ignoring all the other ongoing tragedies in the world (the war in Ukraine and the genocide in the Congo, to name two that spring immediately to mind) is honestly heckin' weird.

Fifth, I own and run a business, and it's entirely within my rights to decide to keep that business apart from incredibly divisive current events. The business account (which is entirely separate from my personal account - it's not a side blog, it's a separate log in) - when it interacts with political topics at all - primarily blogs about recent happenings in publishing and related fields (so, legislation about free speech, ongoing strikes, etc.) and about recent happenings related to queer things (positive legislation and negative legislation being proposed or passed). I intentionally do not blog about other political topics, because they have nothing to do with the business. The most political the Press has gotten about the conflict in the Middle East is that we've quietly removed a couple books from rec lists that were written by authors or released by publishers who have managed, by publicizing their OWN views, to become especially controversial (especially on Tiktok) and even that I did extremely reluctantly, I just don't want to get Tiktok cancelled because we spent 5 seconds saying we liked a book by someone they currently hate, because Tiktok is Like That.

As to my own personal views on the conflict, which you are in absolutely no way entitled to know but which I have previously shared publicly so don't mind sharing again, I am a Jew and I was raised to believe that when all the rest of the world turned on us, Israel would always be the one place where we'd be safe, and I clung to that belief over 40 years of watching Israel become increasingly right wing and jingoistic, continuing to believe that the surest path to safety and security for everyone involved was a two-state solution.

As I previously wrote here, in the face of Israel's current actions against Palestine, I no longer believe that. If this is how Israel behaves, I no longer think Israel has a right to exist. I do still think that the best outcome right now is a two-state solution, but one that involves the complete abolition of the current Israeli government and army, to be replaced with a system that isn't, ya know, disgustingly fascist - and that if that can't be done, we need a one-state solution, and that one state shouldn't be Israel. This is my personal opinion.

However, I also acknowledge that for many Jews, this is an incredibly loaded, difficult topic, and I would never align my business to an official position like this because I have no desire to alienate people who I know feel as conflicted and complicated about this as I do myself. I take it as a matter of simple real fact that I respect my friends and colleagues enough to accept that they may reach different conclusions than I have about this, and I don't want them to feel unwelcome in a space that I've created because I on an individual level have reached a different conclusions about what I believe to be the best ending for this conflict than they have. We also do not allow political conversations of this stripe in our server for the same reason.

No matter how much people on both sides keep trying to paint this conflict as black and white, right and wrong, with one-and-done magic single-switch solutions, it's not that simple, never has been, and never will be, and the reality on the ground of ways to resolve this are also not that simple. Now, to be clear, I think it IS simple and accurate to say: the killing needs to stop i.m.m.e.d.i.a.t.e.l.y. That's a given and I think I'd be hard-pressed to find anyone in the circles I travel in who'd disagree. But what should happen AFTER that? That's where I think reasonable people can still disagree about what should happen next to that land and the people living on it.

Anyway.

I should probably stop talking before, in my effort to be nuanced and balanced, I say something that leads someone to think I should be canceled. I am against the genocide 100% and this conflict has turned me from reluctantly vaguely okay with zionism to anti-zionist, but I also am tired of seeing people act like big problems have easy solutions, and I'm tired of the suggestion that anyone who isn't performatively outraged about this specific situation 24/7 is a bad person with wrong opinions.

Like, I think you need to take a look in the mirror and ask yourself why you thought this was an appropriate ask to send a stranger. I'm genuinely disgusted that you'd try to turn a conflict that has nothing to do with me into something I'm personally responsible for because it's being done "in my name." Honestly, what the fuck is wrong with you? Antisemitic much? I'm a Jew, but that doesn't and never will mean that the Israeli government speaks for me or in my name. Fuck you.

[alphadursgate32023]

Diplomacy Refined: Baldur's Gate 3 and the Evolution of Interaction

Baldur's Gate is, like, this total legend from the late 90s when it comes to CRPGs, and OMG, when they dropped the news about a sequel, it was seriously mind-blowing! Yet, given Larian Studios' track record with Divinity Original Sin 1 and 2, our optimism had solid ground – those games were absolute genre-definers in the past decade. But let me tell you, Baldur's Gate 3 takes it to a whole new dimension. Classic RPGs of yore, like the ones you mentioned, often sport a bit of a serious and restrained vibe. Isometric view, graphics that seem to have resisted change since ancient times, and enough text boxes to fill a library. But here's the twist – Baldur's Gate 3, despite coming from an indie studio, rolls in with resources that put it in the league of heavyweights like The Witcher 3, Mass Effect, and Final Fantasy 7, the recent champs of the Action RPG scene. The graphics are like, totally mind-blowing, especially when they totally nail those facial expressions. I can't even, it's seriously a visual masterpiece.

Baldur's Gate 3 isn't just your regular sequel – it's this massive game that's totally shaking up the whole modern gaming universe, like whoa. It's like taking your nostalgic love for the classics and then catapulting it into the PS5 games era. Get ready to have your minds totally blown, fam! 🤯 Gamers, you're about to dive into an insane adventure that's like, next-level epic. It's not just vibing with the OG vibes, but it's also slapping on a seriously stunning layer that'll make your jaw drop.

Diplomacy Refined: A Comparison of Baldur's Gate 3 and Baldur's Gate 2

When you check out how diplomacy works in Baldur's Gate 3 versus its old version, Baldur's Gate 2, you can totally see that the new one has brought in some awesome upgrades to the system. It amps up the fun factor when you're playing and might even make you think about scouting where to buy PS5 games to really soak in all these cool changes. Baldur's Gate 3 goes all-in with a more complex diplomacy vibe, giving players a bunch more options and outcomes, kinda like when you're on the hunt for where to buy cheap PS5 games. While Baldur's Gate 2 featured diplomatic interactions, the newer game refines this aspect by providing deeper branching dialogue options that cater to various playstyles, similar to how gamers choose and explore different PS5 game options. This totally leads to, like, a way more immersive and super personalized vibe, you know? It's all about letting players really, like, mold how things go down, based on their choices. It's like when they snag those PS5 games that totally match their style, ya feel me?

In Baldur's Gate 3, diplomacy is better integrated into the overarching narrative. Conversations and choices feel more meaningful and impactful, leading to a greater sense of agency. The game's advanced AI and dialogue system create more lifelike interactions, making the world and characters feel more alive. Stealth mechanics in Baldur's Gate 3 provide a fresh perspective on diplomacy-related situations. Players can now use stealth to avoid confrontations and engage enemies on their terms. This tactical vibe brings some serious depth to those diplomacy-heavy situations, giving players the chance to work their environment and positioning to totally crush it. Baldur's Gate 3's turn-based combat is all about that refined and super strategic gameplay. This turn-based style really makes you think hard about your moves, adding an extra layer of smartness to finding diplomatic solutions. It's like finding the sweet spot between old-school vibes and what's poppin' in gaming today.

Where old-school feels meet new-school thrills

Baldur's Gate 3 is like the ultimate flex when it comes to leveling up those diplomacy mechanics. If you compare how it handles things with its older sibling, Baldur's Gate 2, you'll see that the new kid on the block is all about those intricate and immersive vibes in conversations. The game totally weaves diplomacy into the story, serves up a buffet of dialogue options, and even tosses in some sneaky stealth and turn-based combat for good measure. All of this adds up to feeling like you're calling the shots in a totally real world. Baldur's Gate 3 isn't just tipping its hat to the OG days, it's pushing the envelope by mixing in some modern flair like mind-blowing graphics and gameplay that's all about strategy. As you dive into this epic journey, you're looking at a diplomacy system that's all about making those big decisions, getting cozy with a unique experience, and bouncing off some crazy interactions. Larian Studios totally flipped the script on diplomacy in CRPGs, crafting a game that's all about keeping that classic vibe while setting a whole new standard. So, whether you're a die-hard fan of the oldies or you're just getting your feet wet in the world of CRPGs, Baldur's Gate 3 is serving up a ride that's all about showing how far diplomacy has come in the gaming scene.

[arc852]

Learning the Obvious 2/3

Part 1

Warnings: Dehumanization and treating a person like a pet

Word Count: 2395

____________________________________________________________

 The rest of dinner passed by in a bit of an…awkward way. Tubbo was still talking to him and even Dream chimed in a few times but Tommy couldn’t stop thinking about everything he had just learned. 

 Before, he liked to think he knew Wilbur pretty well. They had been together for a month and a half and had barely been apart since. Tommy always thought he had a good read on what Wilbur was thinking and feeling.

 But now, he had no idea. He had failed to notice that Wilbur wasn’t happy, after all. Who knew what else Tommy had misinterpreted over their time together. And he had no idea how Wilbur would react to what Tommy had to tell him. Would he be happy Tommy no longer saw him as a pet? Mad that it took Tommy this long to realize? He couldn’t even begin to guess what Wilbur’s choice would be either.

 Although, if he was in Wilbur’s position, leaving sounded pretty good.

 “Tommy? Are you doing okay?” Tubbo asked, snapping Tommy out of his thoughts. He blinked and looked over at the smaller teen, who was frowning in concern.

 “Yeah, yeah…just, ya know, thinking.” Tommy said, pulling himself more up on the couch. His plate laid discarded on the coffee table alongside Tubbo’s. Dream had finished way before he had even come out into the living room and so he didn’t have a plate. He just continued to lean against the wall.

 Tubbo gave him a sad smile. “Makes sense, it’s not every day your views are spun on its head.” And yeah, that was a good way to describe what had just happened.

 But Tubbo never had to deal with this. Dream was there from the beginning to teach Tubbo how to treat borrowers. Ranboo was probably more than willing to stay when he saw how kind Tubbo was. But…Dream knew how he felt, right? After all, he said he had treated Sapnap as a pet the first year they were together before realizing. 

 He turned towards Dream. “How did you go about everything when you realized Sapnap wasn’t a pet?” Tommy asked and Dream jumped in surprise at suddenly being addressed and then tensed when he processed Tommy’s question.

 “Oh, well…” He sighed. “It was a bit different from your situation but…after everything, I gave Sapnap the same choice, to leave or to stay with the promise he wouldn’t be treated like a pet anymore.”

 “And?” Tommy asked, leaning in. He could already guess the outcome though, after all, Sapnap was still here with Dream after all these years.

 “And he chose to leave.”

 Tommy’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? But, he’s here right now! What happened?”

 “Well, he left but he never left the house. He started living in the walls like how borrowers used to. And, we kept running into each other and we started building up trust and eventually, Sapnap came out of the walls permanently.” Dream explained, rubbing the back of his neck as he did so.

 Tommy bit his lip. “So, he left but then ended up staying?” When Dream nodded, Tommy became lost in his thoughts again. If that’s what Wilbur decided to do, it’s possible he could build up trust like Dream did. But there was no guarantee that’s what Wilbur would do. What if he wanted Tommy to drop him off somewhere else? Or what if he left the house on his own?

 Tommy closed his eyes and sighed. He had to be okay with letting Wilbur go permanently, if that’s what he chose.

 Tommy opened his eyes at the sound of shuffling and turned to see Dream no longer leaning against the wall. “I’m gonna head up to where the borrowers are. Make sure you bring up some food for them when you guys are done down here.” Tubbo nodded and then Dream turned and made his way up the stairs.

 “I think things will be okay.” Tubbo suddenly said, making Tommy turn to look at him. He was smiling at Tommy and it was almost infectious. “Like I said before, you’re a good person Tommy. Wilbur might trust and like you more than you think.”

 Tommy bit his lip but nodded and gave Tubbo a small smile. “Thanks Tubs.” The nickname slipped out without him meaning to but when Tubbo’s smile just got wider at it, Tommy felt warm. 

 “Now come on, let’s go follow Dream up. And, hey, maybe telling Wilbur while we’re here will make it easier for you.” Tubbo suggested and Tommy nodded. He was still hesitant to see Wilbur at this point. But he knew it wasn’t fair to the borrower to prolong the conversation any longer.

 The two grabbed their plates and took them to the kitchen. Puffy and Phil looked to be done eating as well but they were still talking. Puffy looked over and smiled at the two of them. “Hey! You all done?” 

 Tubbo smiled back. “Yep! We’re gonna go hang out in my room for a bit. Can we have a plate of food for the borrowers?”

 “Of course.” Puffy stood up and served up another plate, handing it over to Tubbo. “You two have fun.”

 “We will!” Tubbo said before grabbing Tommy’s arm with his free hand and pulling him out of the kitchen.

 The two adults watched them go with grins on their faces. “I’m so happy they seem to be getting along.” Phil said.

 “I knew they would.” Puffy said back. “I think the two of them are going to be great friends.”

***

 Ranboo and Sapnap were showing him Ranboo’s little hidden room when he heard the bedroom door open and a voice. “Sapnap?” Dream called out and Wilbur watched as Sapnap perked up. He turned towards Wilbur. 

 “Come on, they must be done with dinner.” Sapnap and Ranboo exited the room and Wilbur followed close behind. He was still a bit wary of the human, so he stayed further back as Sapnap ran right up to him. Dream kneeled down on the floor and Sapnap practically threw himself into his hands.

 “Where’s Tubbo? And, uh, Tommy?” Ranboo asked, closer to Dream than Wilbur was.

 “They’re downstairs still but they’ll be up in a second with some dinner for you guys.” Dream said before his eyes wandered until they met Wilbur’s gaze. Wilbur flinched and Dream bit his lip.

 “Hey, uh, sorry about earlier. I know you probably didn’t like me staring at you and stuff.” Dream apologized sheepishly. Wilbur blinked, a bit thrown off by the fact that Dream had even noticed his discomfort in the first place.

 “Oh, uh, it’s fine.” Wilbur shrugged, not meeting Dream’s eyes. He wasn’t used to being around humans who weren’t Tommy. 

 Dream nodded and then lifted Sapnap up to better see him. “So, what have you guys been doing?”

 “We’re just showing him around. We were just in Ranboo’s room when you came in.” Sapnap explained. “How did the talk with Tommy go?”

 Wilbur tensed as Sapnap asked the question and waited with baited breath as Dream opened his mouth the answer. Part of Wilbur didn’t want to know, in fear of the wrong reaction but the other part of him, the bigger part, needed to know.

 “Well-” But Dream was cut off when the door opened up again, showing Tubbo and Tommy at the door holding a plate of food. 

 “Dinner!” Tubbo shouted with a grin and went to sit down on the floor and place the plate down. Tommy stayed standing, looking awkward as he closed the door behind him.

 Wilbur couldn’t help but overanalyze everything. Tommy seemed awkward and maybe a bit upset but Tubbo and Dream seemed perfectly fine. Was that an indication that the talk went well? But then why was Tommy upset? So many questions and Wilbur just wanted answers. But try as he might, Tommy seemed to be avoiding Wilbur’s gaze.

 He felt a hand on his shoulder and tensed before realizing it was just Ranboo. Ranboo looked at him with a small smile and motioned over towards the plate of food, which Sapnap had already started to eat. “Come on, if we don’t hurry there won’t be anything left.”

 “Hey, I heard that!” Sapnap yelled and Ranboo chuckled as they made their way over to the plate. Wilbur went ahead and grabbed a piece of chicken to munch on but he didn’t have a very big appetite at the moment. Not when he couldn’t stop worrying about how the talk went.

 “So, Wilbur!” Tubbo suddenly said, causing Wilbur to jump. He looked up to see Tubbo smiling down at him. “How did you like Ranboo’s room? Him and I put it together ourselves.”

 Wilbur hummed, thinking back on the room. His thoughts were jumbled and so it took a second to get them in order. “Oh, uh, it was really cool. I liked it.” And that was true, Wilbur actually really liked the room. 

 “Cool! Maybe if you decide to stay with Tommy I can help you guys build one for you!” Tubbo exclaimed and then was immediately elbowed by Dream, who was giving him a look. Tubbo looked confused for a moment before his face went red and he looked sheepish. “Oh, um, I mean…just-just ignore what I said.”

 But Wilbur was already too far into his thoughts to even hear the last thing Tubbo said. What did that mean, if he decided to stay with Tommy? What was going on?

 A groan filled the room and Wilbur looked up to see Tommy rubbing a hand over his face. He looked over to Tubbo who looked away. “Sorry, Tommy.”

 Tommy sighed. “It’s…fine.” And for the first time since stepping foot back into the room, Tommy met Wilbur’s eyes. Wilbur couldn’t help but be surprised at the amount of emotion within Tommy’s gaze. It was still hard to pinpoint exactly how Tommy was feeling but one emotion that got through was…sadness. But why was Tommy sad?

 “Tommy? Are you okay?” He couldn’t help but ask. Despite being worried about how the talk went, despite how it did go, Wilbur still cared about Tommy and hated seeing him like this. 

 Tommy seemed to tense at his question and he rubbed at his arm like he was nervous. “I…actually that’s sort of what I…need to talk to you about.” Tommy got out and Wilbur froze.

 “What do you mean?” Wilbur asked but inside he couldn’t help but wonder if this was it. He was finally going to know how the talk went. How Tommy reacted to it. But still, that was a weird way to start this kind of conversation.

 Tommy kneeled down in front of Wilbur and met his eyes again. He looked sad, remorseful, and determined all in one and it was confusing Wilbur as to why. “Wilbur, I-”

 “Tommy! It’s time to go, it’s getting late!” Phil yelled from downstairs, effectively cutting Tommy off. Tommy was left floundering for a second before he turned his head towards the door.

 “But dad! Can’t we stay a little bit longer?!” Tommy yelled somewhat desperately. Wilbur winced a little at the volume and noticed how Ranboo and Sapnap did the same. Even though Wilbur was more used to it at this point, Tommy could still be a bit too loud at times.

 “Sorry Toms! But I have to wake up early for work tomorrow! Now come on down!” Phil yelled back and Tommy bit his lip, sharing looks with Tubbo and Dream. 

 “I guess I have to go…” Tommy said. He was still kneeled down in front of Wilbur as Tubbo placed a hand on his shoulder.

 “It’ll be okay. You’ve got this.” Tubbo said, but Tommy looked as though he didn’t quite believe him. Wilbur was still confused about what was happening. Clearly Tommy had been about to say something, probably about the talk he had with the other humans. But it looked like that conversation was now going to have to wait until they got home. Which only prolonged Wilbur’s anxiety.

 Tommy let out a sigh and held his hand out for Wilbur to climb onto. Wilbur did so with little hesitation, having done this hundreds of times since being with Tommy. But something was different about this time. When Tommy lifted him up, his hand stayed flat instead of curling around Wilbur’s frame. 

 It was strange, but not entirely unwelcome.

 Tommy stood, adding his other hand next to Wilbur so Wilbur was now cupped between his two hands. He looked at the other two humans in the room. “I, uh, I guess I’ll see you around? Maybe?”

 He seemed nervous but that went away when Tubbo grinned wide at him. “Yeah! You’ll have to come over again soon. Or I could go over to your place!”

 Wilbur glanced up at Tommy, who was smiling for the first time since coming back into the room. “Y-Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”

 Wilbur couldn’t help but smile a bit as well. He knew how lonely Tommy was. That was the whole reason Wilbur was with Tommy in the first place. The whole reason he decided to stay despite Tommy still seeing him as a pet. He related too much to the kid. But now, it seemed like he finally had a friend.

 “Bye Tommy!” Tubbo yelled as Tommy started to walk out into the hallway. “And remember, you got this!”

 Wilbur heard Tommy chuckle as they made their way back downstairs. Phil was there, waiting by the door as he finished up talking to Puffy. When he saw Tommy, he smiled. “Hey Toms, did you have fun?”

 Tommy hesitated but nodded and Phil’s smile grew wider. “I’m glad! We’ll have to set up another time you and Tubbo can hang out.”

 Tommy nodded and they said bye to Puffy and then headed out to the car. Tommy got in on the passenger side and placed his hands holding Wilbur in his lap. He hadn’t looked at Wilbur this whole time, at least, not in the eyes. He glanced down every now and again, probably to make sure he was secure before quickly moving his gaze back up.

 As Phil got in and started the car, Wilbur couldn’t help but feel nervous about the talk they would inevitably have when they got back home.

[yournextflame]

what are your current thoughts about ranni right now? as in, between all that we know has been lost in translation, what were her actual goals? what does her ending actually imply? because if she's not pushing out the outer gods or stopping the spread of other orders (such as Rot) then why is her position within the story so contentious to other characters' agendas? which would merit sending the black knives after her, for example. thank you for your time <3

Ranni’s goal is very clear in both EN and JP - she wants to destroy her Two Fingers.

But, as it of happens with fan-favorite characters, people reshaped her canon characterization of selfish and opportunistic trickster into 'brave leader of rebellion against the outer gods/the Golden Order/the Greater Will from my favorite Amazon best-selling YA novel'

Just to clarify, Ranni never mentions Golden Order, GW or the outer gods. More over, it’s Miquella’s goal to reduce influence of the outer gods, but it’s often given to Ranni or Marika in an attempt to whitewash them.

If anything, Ranni’s story is full of dramatic irony. She sort of tries to escape her destiny, but in the Age of Stars ending Ranni not only replaces Marika and starts a new age as she was supposed to do, but also fulfills ancient Nox prophecy about stars and Lord of Night. This, to be clear, is not the goal that she really pursues as she is fine with any outcome as long as her Fingers are dead, but something that Tarnished can choose for her. (I do have certain theory/headcanon regarding Ranni’s behaviour and why she values her consort’s willingness to estabilish new Order even more than Rennala’s wish to weave the night)

By contrast, Melina actively encourages Tarnished to become Elden Lord, protests when Tarnished follows the path of Frenzy and seeks revenge upon Lord of Frenzied Flame. Does angry Ranni shows up when Tarnished repairs Elden Ring or burns everything to the ground? No, Ranni doesn’t care about state of the world that much.

i think all 3 Empyreans represent different views on godhood. Miquella was the most basic successor of Marika, who was building Unalloyed Golden Order, Malenia bears a Rot, but she was in odds with her fate, Ranni is kind of the opposite of Malenia, she was just like Miquella an Empyrean unaffected by any third party, but tried to engage with Dark Moon that Rennala introduced to her during childhood. 

Speaking of endings, Ranni’s one is providing a certain freedom for humanity for 1000 years as there wouldn’t be a god with almost unlimited power like Marika, but it doesn’t solve any existing problem (TWILD, Scarlet Rot, fractured nature of the world). 

My current idea about the Shattering that it was Marika’s attempt to stay as a god for one more age; without going into details there are just to many hints that gods are ruling only for limited time and then Two Fingers are picking new Empyreans to forge a new Order. World of Elden Ring works similar to Dark Souls’ setting, but instead of the First Flame that must be rekindled by Chosen Undeads, there is a different magic plot device that requires a new vessel once in a while. Following this theory Black Knives were sent to Ranni (and Ordina) to kill her as a competitor. 

inb4: Marika shattered the Elden Ring because she wanted to free (herself or the world) from the Greater Will

An echo of Marika at the Church of Pilgrimage says that she expected that by the end of Tarnished/Godfrey campaign Elden Ring will be restored and raised again

Return to the Lands Between, wage war, and brandish the Elden Ring

狭間の地に戻り、戦い、赴くままにエルデンリングを掲げるがよい

Literal translation:

Return to the Lands Between, fight and raise Elden Ring as you pleases

She used the same phrase when she proclaimed beginning of the age of Erdtree

エルデンリングを掲げ、我ら黄金樹の時代を

Raise the Elden Ring, for the Age of the Erdtree

[marieanneline]

wait wait hold up i am actually seething about the reveal

ya boi's not a dabi stan. at all. the only reason i'm remotely interested in his character is if he's actually related to shouto and how that would affect hero society in general. i remember reading the training camp arc, seeing him being one of the villains there, him saying todoroki's full name, and thinking "SIBLINGS?????" because agshdfjlk their EYES are SO SIMILAR!! i really want to give credit to horikoshi being able to portray their similarities from artstyle alone because that's talent.

(it's more apparent in the anime since you see the eye color— but appearance-wise, shouto takes after rei and dabi takes after enji the most, so this definitely isn't the best photo to prove my point...)

anyways,,,, dabi's ideals of heroics fall in line with stain's ideals and so we all already theorized how if he was the long lost big brother touya, it would be because of the fact that his father really wasn't a hero. this makes sense. and so, we're all fucking right. props to us, really, and props to horikoshi for all the foreshadowing because i had fun :)) in terms of story and plot, i think this reveal is fantastic.

alright, on to why dabi is a dick

(i'm assuming this was his choice and no one pressured him after all)

the todoroki family is on the road to recovery!!

- shouto finally visits his mother back in season 2 and visits her every chance he gets. you see the effort he makes and it's nice to see him change from season 1 to 2 (early-roki!!)

(guys he even sends her letters- look at that sparkle by his face!! he's sweet :)) and rei's smile!!!!)

- enji (whether we wanted it or not, i don't mind much personally) is trying to atone for everything he's done to his family

- natsuo, who originally wasn't fond of shouto because he had their father's attention (although he does come to the horrible realization that shouto was one of the most unfortunate) and mother's attention (because she wanted to protect shouto), has a closer relationship with his little brother now (can you believe he didn't even know shouto's favorite food was cold soba until ch. 192?? i was sobbing). he really regrets the prejudice he had against shouto and he's trying to be an actual brother to him now.

- rei's almost recovered enough to be released from the hospital!!

- fuyumi and her idyllic "happy family"– wHICH, BY THE WAY, ALMOST CAME TO FRUITION. their mother coming home, shouto connecting with his siblings, and enji being not-the-way-he-was-before is the best outcome they could have hoped for. and it was happening.

and i realize that all of that setup is for this very moment

this? this. this. this is being broadcasted. to everyone. that means the citizens know that their new #1 hero is directly related to a member of a really bad villain organization (i almost called it a terrorist group oop-).

by ruining endeavor, the citizens faith in heroes will collapse. this also affects shouto's reputation as an upcoming hero, and i am so terrified of what this could mean for him. imagine your career ending before it even started, just when you found your passion for being a hero again. all that progress he's made for himself since starting UA could be seen as pointless to him and i would hate for him to retrogress like that because it's not his fault. i would absolutely hate it if the media starts bashing shouto for being related to a villain, when he was also a victim of abuse.

seeing this look on shouto's face is making me dehydrated istg i'm fucking SOBBING— he doesn't even look angry!! in the last few chapters he was angry and worried for his friends, teachers, father maybe, other heroes... but he just looks sad. and the fact that the panel chooses to show the left side of his face is.... there's so much to unpack.

but yeah, this is being broadcasted. does fuyumi know? the cameo she had showed her working so maybe not. natsuo's cameo showed that he was at a lecture, so he also probably didn't see.

but rei did. that's like- that's the person i would want to keep this from the most.

the effects of this entire reveal genuinely scare me. how will this affect rei's mental state? she'll realize that what enji did is actually so much worse. their first child being a villain?? i'm terrified for how she'll react, she's doing much better in recent chapters after all. her kids are visiting her, shouto sends her letters to keep in touch, and enji sends her flowers and respectfully keeps his distance. i really don't want this reveal to result in a relapse. and if she does relapse, then fuyumi's ideal of a happy family is once again out of arms reach. the future of their mother finally coming back home is so far away again and it's genuinely so heart-breaking.

:(

plus— how will fuyumi's little elementary school students react to her being related to a villain? will the school fire her because of her connection to a villain and how that might cause concerns for students and parents????

it's also hard to say exactly how this will affect shouto and natsuo. natsuo was the closest to touya when they were kids so what would his whole opinion be of what touya's become? will he have a moral crisis?

in terms of moral crisises, i guess i'm more concerned about shouto. the boy knows he wants to forgive his father, but this is just making it so much harder. and after this, will he still want to? and finding out that his own sibling is a villain... remember the stain arc? there were some parallels between midoriya's, iida's, and todoroki's positions in the last chapter and i'm worried about what that could foreshadow. from that arc alone, we know that shouto doesn't agree with stain's views at all [i forgot what he said but it was really compelling]. we know that dabi's a stain follower though, so will this disrupt shouto's sense of justice? i hope not.

but family has always been kind of a weak spot for shouto, hasn't it? i hope this doesn't affect his resolve to be a hero because i do think that there's a way to– somehow– not have a corrupt hero society and i want him to fight for that.

touya being a villain is perfectly valid though, i don't doubt that. it's just disheartening to address that while every other todoroki was working hard to become a normal family, here's their oldest brother, who's not really dead. what's going to become of that altar at their house now?

learning the extent to touya's hatred towards endeavor is truly terrifying. we know enji is or was a horrible person and his redemption arc is based on the very fact that he can't be forgiven, despite some of his family trying their best to do so or at least get over it. but the fact that touya has even thought about killing shouto? that's just. ouch. touya's definitely gone through too much abuse, and all of the todoroki family problems are because of enji's bad parenting. but this does not justify murder and especially that of his younger brother, who also got the brunt of the abuse.

needless to say, i am a fool. i don't know if anything i just said will ever be true, but the important thing to take from whatever the heck i just shat out is that all of this is/could be a result of this reveal. it's the fact that dabi seems to have no sympathy. it's the fact that he doesn't care if his blood related family crashes and burns. really, if this is solely about endeavor and what he did, there's no need to bring the rest of the family into this. rei was sent to a hospital for god's sake. shouto has a scar. it's excessive and unmoral and although questionable ethics and values are key traits of a villain, it doesn't justify how much he's hurting the todorokis.

(look at this shit eating grin he has. no remorse. he really doesn't give a shit about the others but I DO and I'M so SAD)

and assuming that the whole "endeavor's wife admitted into hospital" was swept under the rug in terms of media, will that suddenly come back to light? because it shouldn't. maybe it should be known that she's in the hospital because of marital abuse but either way rei should not be dragged back into this disaster, and neither should the rest of them. there's also a chance that the media will accuse rei of having abused her kids too, which is messed up for different reasons. they're trying so hard to have any semblance of a normal family, and if dabi's way of revealing this to the world ruins that in any way then i hATE THIS REVEAL ASDFGHJKL—

[leo-interactive-fiction]

Hey, Leo! How would the ROs react to MC being their "soulmate"? Like, you know the trope? "Your soulmate's name is tattooed on your skin from birth, or when you took your first shit." I'm not really a fan of it, but I kind of like the dynamic it would have with your characters, especially the ones that would have a hard time accepting it. Like, P, F, or even S. How far does S's obliviousness stretch? How could a physical manifestation not click in their head????? Thanks!

Haha, interesting, let's see...

In your childhood, you always heard the myth that two people with similar birthmark designs are linked by the soul.

E: they never really thought about it before, but one day in their childhood they noticed your mark, "Where'd you get that? You always had it...?" They could never get that thought out of their head, especially now as they look in the mirror to an imitation of the same design.

R: They offer you a humorous smile, "Just my luck, right? Or is it yours?"

L: being from a different culture, they haven't been presented with this particular rumor, but once theyve been introduced they become keen to how apparent both of your markings seem, "It is an almost uncanny similarity, is it not? Ah, but such a thing would be more logical as simple happenstance rather than anything correlated, though I wonder..." they wonder at length.

V: they dont understand the myth, but they understand that you seem to react positively to it, so they unknowingly follow along, "How do souls mate...?"

P: they're in pretty heavy denial, "A stupid fucking mark wont make me hate you any less, Dumbass."

M: they're in pretty heavy acceptance, "Now we can...eat dirt...together...wait...wrong question..."

Ra: this was a natural outcome that they already knew, because you're dated to be together. "But just in case," they whisper sinisterly to you, "I would have burned a mark on me to match..."

S: they look at the extremely unique and apparent birthmark that clearly looks like the outline of a heart with both your initials inside. They give an impressed whistle, "Hot damn, ya got one too? What're the odds'a that, huh?" The two of you stare at each other silently, and you hope they can pick up on the hint, but eventually they just continue on, "so what'd'ya think about settin' fireworks off indoors?"

F: "My skin bears no markings," they state stiffly, refusing to let you view, "Disgrace my image with your unfounded fantasies again, and I will have you reimburse me for every second of time I feel inconvenienced by your general presence."

Enjoy haha

[vasoula]

The Peepshow (chapter two)

Summary: Two months after his redemption journey, Sasuke is back to Konoha and Sakura couldn’t be more happy about them spending a lot of time together. However, things take a hard turn when Sakura is assigned a special mission and she has to hide it from the rest of Team 7. Everything comes spiraling down when Sasuke finds out exactly what she has to do. 

Tags: hard rated m, blank period, kinda AU-ish

Chapter one here, ffnet, Ao3.

Next chapter

Author's notes: An alternate title to this chapter could be "take a drink everytime sasuke activates his sharingan because of sakura" ;) I tried to keep my boy as much as in character as possible! My girl Saku is easier to approach thought wise. This the point of the three chaptered fic that things really take off :P Man, writing pole dancing is HARD ;) Enjoy some slowburn denial seduction sasusaku with a dose of humor, my loves! Also, big thank to everyone who read this, especially to those who left lovely comments! Thank you so much for your support! :D See ya next week! Just in case, english is not my first language and this chapter is only edited by me :D

“Act two: Seducing one jealous Uchiha”

Sasuke Uchiha, for the first time in years, sees red.

He feels his eye power activate before he can control it as his chakra flares at the images flashing before him.

Sakura, his lovely Sakura, up the stage right in front the pole, looking straight at him in the most alluring way possible. Her body on full display and her face looking so different from her usual choice of make up he almost would tell you this is not her. But, those unmistakably beautiful eyes belong only to one person.

The glass of whiskey in his hand is close to breaking when Kakashi's voice cuts through his rage filled haze.

"Sasuke, stop." His mentor warns in a serious voice, just in time before they are detected by other people. It has the desired effect because Sasuke deactivates his sharingan instantly.

Naruto places his arm on his friend's stump, feeling the chakra pulsating there. The blond man says nothing although a crease in his brow has formed. He looks at Sasuke worriedly awaiting his reaction, averting his eyes from the stage where Sakura is dancing as if she does not have a care in the world.

Sasuke is clenching his jaw so hard, his teeth are aching from the pressure he is putting them on. He cannot believe what his eyes are seeing right now. Sakura who is supposed to be back in Konoha is up there on stage dancing for a target she is supposed to seduce and she has not told him a single fucking thing about this.

In fact, no, she lied to him and told him she would be staying at Tsunade for some medical bullshit she supposedly had to do with her mentor. He remembers the fifth Hokage calling him an arrogant brat for disliking this kind of mission.

Taking a deep breath, he tries to calm his nerves, before he does something risky.

He feels his heart beating ridiculously fast in his chest for some reason as he looks up at the stage. Trying to see her face, he wants her to look him in the eye and tell him how does she feel now that she is making him hurt.

Does she not trust him enough with this information that she knew could potentially affect what they have? Why did she have to lie about it? Sasuke knows that there is some shinobi mission confidentiality, but they both know between them the barrier is drawn and she could tell him anything. Especially something that could potentially strain their feelings. Maybe knowing his nature she knew he would not like what she would have to do, but the outcome is the same anyways. Is he supposed to feel like this? What is the word again? Jealous, he thought.

Sasuke clicks his tongue and ticks his head to the right side. "I see," he says in venomous voice, uncharacteristic of him nowadays.

Acting unbothered, his eyes stay focused on the stage where the most important woman in his life is dressed in a skimpy lingerie trying to bait the target with her high class skills.

Naruto shakes his head knowingly and rests his forehead on his open palm, leaning on the armchair he is sitting on. "Man, this is bad," he says mournfully.

Kakashi finally breaks the ice by speaking again, trying to mend things in the worst way possible, "Damn didn't know she had it in her."

The gray haired man feels the Uchiha's rage before the sizzling stare reaches him.

"Shut it," Sasuke mutters angrily.

All their heads turn instantly when they hear a man shout in excitement exclaiming how hot Sakura is by throwing a bunch of money her way.

Sasuke feels the beginnings of a headache starting to form.

The heavy beat of the song is pounding strongly in his ears and he cannot help it when his eyes focus on Sakura once again. If he is being completely honest with himself, he did not know she had it in her either.

If you had told Sakura Haruno in the past that she would be pole dancing in front of Sasuke Uchiha, she would laughed straight at your face and call you an idiot.

But now, as she grinds her hips on the pole, she feels like she is the idiot. And the butt of her own jokes apparently.

She is really feeling herself actually. The lingerie she is wearing is top notch and it fits her body perfectly like it was made for her. It is dark red in color with stripes both on her chest and belly creating Xs. Her heels are not killing her like she imagined they would and she really likes the sparkle in them. And even though she is starting to sweat, she knows her make up will stay in place because she put all her time and effort on it to make it look bomb. It does look amazing on her as it accentuates her eyes in the best way possible. A red lip and black smokey look will do that to your face. Sakura also thinks her long curly hair really added a whole new vibe to her look.

Sakura grabs the steel in front of her and arches back. She rolls her head, moving her body and spinning around the pole. Her chest glistens teasingly thanks to the light and she pushes her hips forward to gain some momentum. She abandons the pole for now and dances a little around the stage to gain the attention of the crowd.

Stepping left and right, Sakura juts her pelvic side to side to create some form of belly dancing while her hands feel her body sensually, at last leading them to course through hair in an attempt to look sexier.

With all that effort she really feels like she is actually Misty Jade, the persona she is supposed to be impersonating. The pink haired ninja puts her hands on her hips and poses seductively. She looks around and spots her target right away.

Time to put on a show, she thinks bitterly and lifts her hands in air to grab the pole behind her. She pushes her butt against the pole and leans back in an effort to look like she is trapped and the pole is like a man who is holding her captive in a stimulating pose.

A happy yell confirms her move had the desired effect both on the crowd and the target as well.

But as she feels that familiar hot stare on her, she also knows how she fucked up big time. It seems her move had another effect as well. The making Uchiha very angry, hot, and bothered effect.

When she looks in his direction, Sakura regrets it immediately. Even though he is at the back of the club, she would recognize him right away no matter how far he is or what clothes he wears. She does not like the expression on his face one bit.

The moment she had turned around after being introduced she had felt his chakra spike up. It intrigued her how she had that effect on him when she knows for a fact the man is super calm and collected. Sakura will not lie to herself and pretend like she did not take great enjoyment from the fact that he reacted like that to her.

But, but, but.

He is very angry with her right now and it is apparent.

Sakura closes her eyes and pretends everything is fine. She knows the other members of Team 7, who look a lot more at peace than he is, will handle him if he gets too upset.

She decides it is time for some impressive tricks that will need her to use some core strength. She makes a quick spin with her hips sticking out and she starts to circle the pole and like it is a prey and she is ready to pounce. Her left hand reaches up and grabs the top of the metallic bar while she puts all her strength in her right hand which grabs the lower part near the base. Then, her left leg comes forward and almost warps around the pole.

Sakura closes her eyes as her right leg pushes her forward and the rest of her body gets send upwards. The beautiful woman feels her hair falling down to her face obscuring it from view for a few agonizing seconds as she stays upside down. With both legs secured on the poll she begins her ascend upwards trying to match her movements with the beat of the song to gain some momentum.

After climbing on top of the pole, Sakura starts spinning around using her hands as leverage. Putting her body in a fetal position, she locks her thighs together and descends towards the ground with her hands upwards pretending like she is falling down from the pole.

In flash, she squeezes her thighs together in an attempt to stop her body from falling down. Right before she reaches the base of the stage, her impeding fall halts.

With her body now close to the ground, she loosens and throws herself in compromising position on the floor. Her palms are flat on the stage, her chest squished together between concrete and her body. Her ass is high up in the air and she slowly goes forward like she is cat crawling her way towards the front row.

In the meantime the crowd has completely lost it. It takes athletic skills to do that and everyone is impressed.

Halfway through the song now with the performance reaching its peak, Sakura decides to pull out the big guns. In order to gain the attention of the target specifically, she will need to find a way to get him to focus on her. Even though he found her skills highly admirable, to him, she was just another girl pole dancing. That is why she has to act interested in him first.

Right now, Misao Takashi is smoking a cigarette like there is no care in the world and he is looking down at some papers.

Way to be inconspicuous, Sakura thought, dropping into a split right at the edge of the stage.

On the other side of the club, right at the back, Naruto is about to cry. He is so confused at the moment, it is not even funny. On one hand, he is really shocked by Sakura and the unknown skills she is displaying, however, he finds himself inwardly cringing because while she is very good at it, he sees her as a very dear friend to him. While he wants to hype her up because she is very impressive, he also wants to go up there and drag her far away from the leeching crowd and hide her from the world with a really big blanket.

On the other hand, he is very scared, because Sasuke Uchiha is about to have the biggest bitch fit of the year right next to him.

The blond man looks at his teacher for comfort only to find him staring him back with a desperate expression on his face which means he is also having a similar thought process. This leads to them having a battle of wills, holding intense eye contact, until one of them crumbles and has to be the one to take care of the green eyed monster that is Sasuke Uchiha.

"Both." Naruto silently mouths, pleading, not wanting to deal with this alone.

Kakashi clears his throat, taking the first step.

"Well, Sasuke, it looks like we won't be needed here," He says in a casual tone, although his voice cracks during the dialogue due to the fact the situation is awkward.

He feels uncomfortable, but he continues on speaking, "The Anbu specialist," he raises his tone slightly at this as if to reprimand him, "is doing a pretty good job on her own."

He folds his hands on top of his crossed knees after finishing his statement.

"I said help, not kill us," Naruto sweat drops and half whispers more to himself than anybody else.

They both hear Sasuke silently growl at this.

Naruto gulps down his saliva loudly and begins, "Look Sasuke, I know this looks bad," he pauses checking for a reaction. Seeing his friend only slightly pissed, he continues, "But, you have to look at the positive side!"

The black haired man looks at his best friend for a split second, his eyes glinting in the dark and says, "And that is?", he questions angrily.

"It is th-the fact that Sakura-chan is strong and she can handle herself!", he tries to explain lamely, "right Kakashi-sensei?"

"Of course, yes." Kakashi agrees quickly.

Sasuke sticks his tongue inside his cheek, pushing it outwards, trying to remain calm.

He wants to curse them, throw water at them or maybe punch them both in the throat, but he will not do it because Sakura would not want that.

His attention diverts back to her dancing on the stage.

"Tsk," he lets out a familiar annoyed sound.

Right at that moment, she decides it is the perfect time to do a split on the floor.

Sasuke feels a vein popping on his forehead while the other two screech like school girls next to him.

He watches as Sakura takes another route to her seduction game and she starts to rely on more sexual tactics. The last Uchiha observes as she starts to sensually rub her back against the pole, her knees slightly bend forward, in an almost squat.

Her right hand goes to her mouth, and she darts her tongue out as if to lick her long manicured fingers while she stares hotly at her target with hooded eyes. In the meantime, her free hand dangles teasingly in front of her torso and begins its descend down towards her pelvic area. Her green nails a stark contrast to her daring burgundy lingerie.

Sasuke almost wants to activate his sharingan just so he could commit that image to his memory forever. He has never felt more jealous and needy than in that moment.

Despite all this unfolding before his eyes, he know this is just a mission, but he cannot help the emotions he is feeling.

The song is about to end, but he knows the torture will not end here. It will continue when she shows up again to lure her target away.

He cannot help but stare as she strikes a pose around the pole; her legs crossed around it and her body circled around the rod like snake hanging from a tree. Her arms are stretched out evenly and her voluminous hair hangs from one side.

Sakura looks amazing, her abs straining against her skin and her muscles showing in all the right places. His imagination of her naked body did not do the real thing justice; so much beauty on that tiny body of hers.

Sasuke heaves a sigh of relief just as the songs ends and the crowd cheers like never before.

"Finally," Kakashi whispers, coursing his hand through his hair.

Naruto plops down on the armchair loudly after hanging on the edge of it for so long.

It feels like a relief for all of them, but they know it is far from over. The lights of the stage close and Sakura disappears in the darkness. Their trained ears hear her heels clanking away despite the buzz she left behind. Everyone is complimenting her and the target looks very interested in her, as his eyes keep searching for her ever since the lights have opened again.

"Op, there it is, it worked, he is into her," Kakashi comments. The red haired male just signaled at a bartender - possibly asking for her company.

"Of course he liked her," Naruto shouts and stretches his hands out in exasperation, "oh my god she looked amazing, I can't believe I just witnessed that," the blond continues to mumble incoherently about their female teammate.

"Did you see that?", The tailed beast owner exclaims loudly, hands coming at top of his head in silent plea for salvation. From the corner of his blue eye, he anticipates his friend's reaction.

"I did," Sasuke responds, "fuck, I know, I did, okay," he says, his voice raising an octave.

He knows the other did it on purpose to gauge a reaction out of him, but he cannot keep hiding from them anymore. It is obvious they both know how he feels about her; except for Sakura of course.

"Op, there it is again," Kakashi jokes this time, his mask hiding his grin. He takes great pleasure in watching his greatest student fall apart in front of him.

"You are both enjoying this, aren't you?", Sasuke asks a question he knows the answer to. He is grimacing, trying to wallow in self pity alone.

"Of course we are," Naruto answers proudly,"have you seen your face?", he wriggles his eyebrows and points an accusing finger at Sasuke's face.

"I hate you both," He says detestably, "Leave me alone."

Before any more banter could continue however, they notice Sakura walking out of the changing rooms in a nice long dress with a slit on the side. It is light pink in color, almost transparent, and it has fuchsia fur on its collar. She is strutting towards the red haired man in very determined steps, getting his attention right away. The pink haired girl sits next to the target and strikes conversation. They watch the scene play out like movie, their eyes and ears alert and attune to everything those two do. Whenever he or she moves, their attention is solely on them - like a hawk which is watching its prey.

Sasuke focuses on Sakura, his eyes calculating every move she makes. He watches as the civilian says something probably funny to her and she laughs heartily, one hand covering her mouth. The woman cocks her head to her right cutely and she blinks her pretty eyes at him while her other hand which is not covering her mouth works in other dirtier ways.

Touch is very important in order to seduce any man. She pats his knee in an attempt to hold her laughter in. To any other person it looks like she is enjoying his company and she is comfortable with him.

But, Sasuke knows, this is her way of making him fall right into her beautifully crafted trap. Her subtle flirting looks like it is working because they both decide to get up at that moment. He does not have a clue what she could have possibly said to him, but the foolish guy grabs her extended hand and follows her to the back rooms.

"She is going in for the kill," Kakashi speaks suddenly, "we better stay alert now in case something bad happens."

It seems he is not the only one interested in how things play out.

The black haired man feels the temperature of the room skyrocket to new heights and he decides it is high time he took off his jacket. In one swift movement the annoying garment is off him and he undoes one more button of his blouse which is straining against his chest.

"Ugh I don't like this at all," Naruto whines and chooses to look anywhere else to divert his attention from Sakura.

Sasuke sits up straighter on his chair, finishes his drink in one shot and puts the empty glass on the nearby table. He feels his throat burning from the sudden consumption of the strong alcoholic beverage. The Uchiha welcomes the pain and cracks his neck to the side.

Kakashi raises an eyebrow at this and he inches his body closer to the outer part of his armchair as if he is ready to get up at any given moment. Naruto quickly catches on and puts his hand on top of Sasuke's bicep.

He grabs the flimsy material of his white shirt, but rearranges his hand in flash in order to grip Sasuke better.

"No," Naruto warns.

The blond's palm discreetly emits some chakra, trying to cool down the raging Uchiha.

Sasuke turns to look at them, his mismatched eyes cold and detached. They see his rinnegan flash in the dark despite being hidden by his fringe.

The brooding male shakes his head slightly and looks down. "I am only going to make things faster," he tries to reason with them.

"Sasuke, no," Kakashi tries to explain calmly. They must not alert anyone in here with their status or their cover will be blown. "We are the back-up, remember?"

"My abilities are more useful than Sakura's right now." Sasuke continues as if he did not hear them, "One look from me and it's over. Tsunade should have thought this through better."

"Sakura-chan can do this, bastard," Naruto speaks in a serious tone and continues, "Don't ruin this for her."

Sasuke stays still for a few seconds, his immobile form having both men on edge.

Before any of them could react fast enough though, they feel Sasuke's chakra flare and they see him disappear in a flash right in front of their eyes. In his place there is a broken bottle of vodka on the armchair.

"Fuck," Naruto curses and Kakashi lets out an indignant sound.

They avert their eyes from the bottle and look towards the changing rooms near the bar. Sasuke smirks, the purple stardust of his eye power blending in with the lights. He bends his head down and steps inside the dark entrance into the hallway behind him.

From their periphery they have no idea what it is going on in there anymore.

Naruto lifts his hands up in the air and says, "I give up."

"I have to admit these events unfolding before me have a more interesting plot than the Icha-Icha Paradise books," Kakashi shrugs his shoulders.

Both of them let out long sighs and fall back into their armchairs.

Meanwhile inside the changing rooms, Sakura has led her target in the quiet corner of her room. She has him pinned against the wall, kunai against his throat, her chakra infused fist holding him captive by his shirt.

"Tell me everything I need to know if you want to live to see another day," she spits out, her glare a complete one eighty compared to the sweet eyes she was batting at him earlier.

"I-I- Who are you lady?" The man trembles in her grip, her threat working.

Sakura pushes him harder against the wall to make him hurt.

"Quit stalling," She keeps the kunai on his throat as her other hand searches his pockets for the key and the papers. "What information do have?" The kunoichi in disguise asks and feels the cold metal of the keys at the tips of her fingers.

Just when she was about to get the juicy info out of him, Sakura feels Sasuke's strong chakra presence behind her.

"You heard her," his velvety baritone voice comes through as he flash steps behind them, both of his eye prowess glinting dangerously in the dark.

The man in question is sweating profusely now as he is faced with two scary looking ninja who look to be very powerful. He knows if he spills out the information the feud lords will come for his ass, but right now as he feels the tip of the kunai on his throat and looks at the threatening eyes of the man next to his beholder, he knows he is dead either way.

"I will tell you everything," He pleads, "don't kill me!"

The red haired man's knees buckle beneath him and he falls down to the ground with a thud. Sakura lets him fall, huffs and stands back.

As she crosses her arms in front of her chest, Sasuke bends down to be at eye level with the target and activates his sharingan, tomoes spinning lazily.

"I could do this on my own, you know," Sakura says annoyed. She is pursing her lips, her eyes going to slits.

"I know," Sasuke admits and stands up. The man on the floor is under a genjutsu, spilling all the information they need.

Sasuke's sharingan still activated records everything the man says that is useful to them. Sakura dangles the keys and puts them inside her pouch. With the man passed out on the floor, Sasuke and Sakura hold eye contact for a few minutes, both silent.

"How did you get in here without me noticing?" She breaks the silence first, taking a few steps closer to the black haired shinobi.

"I concealed my chakra well," Sasuke says laconically, glad for his nimble fingers because he locked the door silently as well.

Sakura hates the way he is so aloof about this as if he did not interrupt her own mission. She is so pissed off right now, the woman can barely hold her wits together. The kunoichi feels herself popping off the moment Sasuke decides to turn his back on her.

"I am not a weak little girl anymore," She spits out fiercely, trying to keep her tone down, "I don't need you going all macho on me!"

Her dress flutters around when she moves suddenly and starts pacing around the room. Sasuke looks at her from the corner of his eye, his visual power no longer activated.

He pretends to ignore her anger and stays mute instead. Unfortunately for her, Sasuke could not help himself and stay put. His jealousy pushed him to go in here with her because the thought of another man even possibly touching her sent him reeling.

Sasuke is glad nothing more had to happen, but god, he is such a coward still and he will not admit to her right now why he did it. He knows she is strong, but her being alone with somebody else, anybody else who is not him...It is eating him away from the inside.

Sakura is furious right now, but she also knows she cannot make a scene in here because someone could come in without warning and start asking questions. They have a man passed out on the floor who is going to arise some suspicions.

Analyzing the situation, she needs to think fast and act later.

Putting her hands on her hips and giving him the angriest bitch face she could master, Sakura barks out her order.

"Go inform the guys the mission is accomplished and we leave tomorrow at dawn," she looks at him expectantly, waiting for him to try and defy her.

When she gets nothing but silence in response, she continues.

"Meet me outside across the street in twenty minutes," Sakura finishes her statement with a dismissive tone.

The pink haired medic raises her eyebrow at him, waiting for him to react.

Sasuke makes his usual humming noise in agreement, his lips slightly pursed. With a curt nod he leaves the room quickly, not once looking behind.

With the door now closed, Sakura lets out a silent growl. In her frustration she takes off one of her high heels and throws it across the room, her target where Sasuke was standing a few seconds ago. Disappointed that she did not hit his imaginary head, she tosses the other one too for a good measure.

Feeling accomplished, she gathers her stuff including the important papers and the keys and she changes to the civilian clothes she had brought with her. Seeing Misao Takashi slightly stirring, she takes that as her cue to leave. With one last look at him, confident that he will not have the guts to speak to anyone about this, she exits the room.

When the red haired male wakes up a few minutes later, he stands up groggily and looks around the room only to find it empty. Checking his pockets and realizing everything is missing, he recalls the events from before. That is when he takes a look at the mirror across him and he notices the gorgeous girl from before has left him a message.

A smiley face drawn with red lipstick is staring back at him.

He snorts and lets out a sad smile.

Twenty minutes later as promised everybody is out of the club with only Sakura still missing. Ever since Sasuke came back with the news no one has exchanged words besides Kakashi and Naruto who keep talking to each other.

The last Uchiha has been oddly quiet even for his standards. He keeps his face mostly hidden in the shadows of the night, his back against a nearby wall. Kakashi and Naruto are a few meters next to him throwing worried glances at him, fearing one word from them would set him off the wrong way.

The moment Sakura appears, it seems the gears in Sasuke's head have finished turning and he stands up straight ready to take off. The awkwardness in Team seven is palpable.

No one dares to look their female teammate in the eye, even Kakashi who is older than them. They do not speak to each other either. Instead, the male members of the group start following Sakura who is probably leading them to the hotel she has been staying. Sakura looks calm, but everybody seems to know that they should not try to cross her or strike a conversation with her.

Naruto who is usually lively and talkative feels like he is living his worst nightmare. He exchanges a few glances with Kakashi who keeps putting his finger in his mouth as if to signal the blond to keep quiet. Things are so awkward between the medic and the sharingan user that Naruto feels like a literal child confined between his two stubborn and angry grown up parents. Fuck being a third wheel to a conceited flirting Uchiha and a shy Haruno, this is so much worse.

Only when they finally reach the hotel and they forced to say their good nights, the Team manages to acknowledge and speak to each other. Of course it is typical conversation before you go to bed, so nothing weird here. Albeit, it was so disturbing to see Sakura faking a smile nowadays that Naruto wanted to bash Sasuke's head to the nearest wall for making this mission more awkward than it had to be. Thinking better than to try and talk to Sasuke about the situation right now, Naruto heads solemnly to his room.

Kakashi on other hand feels like those two are grown up adults and he should not have to interfere with their feelings. They have to work on their miscommunications on their own, especially Sasuke and his incapability to express his feelings.

With each person having their own thoughts in their heads, the members of Team 7 all go into their rooms respectively.

The moment Sakura steps inside the room, she starts to feel her tear ducts watering. Taking a deep breath in order to calm down, she starts pacing around the room while fanning her eyes.

In these kind of situations it always helps to think of something else to prevent her from crying, so she thinks about Ino and her holy grail set of girl rules.

"Never cry when you have expensive make up on," Sakura tries to pep talk herself.

Although she knows she will have to take it off eventually, she tries to hang on the smallest reason to stop herself from tearing up. If she slips up and allows herself to get sad, the woman knows it will be impossible to stop.

Sakura does have a tendency to get emotional despite being strong. Being apathetic is not one of her strongest assets, regrettably. In comparison to the man she is in love with, the pink haired beauty is quite the opposite of him when it comes to matters like these.

Thinking a good bath will clean her head (and her body), she steps inside the bathroom. Half an hour later, she comes out of it clean and fresh wearing her skimpy black pajama shorts and a white t-shirt. Knowing no one will come and bother her anymore tonight she skips putting on her bra.

Feeling rejuvenated and ready to go to sleep, Sakura starts making a beeline for her bed. She will figure out tomorrow what to do about her strained relationship with Sasuke.

Right just about that thought crossed her mind, she hears knocking on her door.

"No," the woman whispers, her eyes widening in horror.

There is no way Sasuke is behind that door, knocking it and expecting her to open up.

With two powerful stomps and a determined expression on her face, Sakura reaches for the doorknob and pulls.

[curiosi-tea-writes]

Promise (One Survivor pt.3)

Pairing: Din Djarin / Cobb Vanth (+ the tiniest hint of Boba / Migs)

Setting: Survivor AU / Modern AU

(Part 1 and Part 2 of this series)

Summary: After Din gets voted out, neither him nor Cobb are in great places. Cobb is furious and Din is feeling incredibly guilty for what happened. Din gets some support from a friend while Cobb decides he needs to win the next immunity challenge to made Din’s sacrifice mean something. That could come at a price, though. Promises are made and for the first time in 38 days, there is no intention of breaking them.

Warning: Quite a bit of angst! Plus, hurt/sick!Cobb

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

“What the hell was that?” Cobb yelled. He cursed as he dropped his torch when he attempted to lean it against the tree. 

“Cowboy, just calm down,” Boba spoke calmly, putting a hand gently on Cobb’s shoulder.

“We had a plan!” Cobb stepped away from Boba. He could vaguely hear Boba telling him again to calm down. His face felt like it was on fire and he was thankful for the limited light of a moon above them because otherwise the tears in his eyes would have been painfully obvious. “We were going to tie it! Why didn’t you tie it?”

“He was a pity vote,” Fennec stated simply, repeating the words Din had said earlier that afternoon. “A teacher who’s a single dad is a better option than any of us and you know it.”

“That’s not true!” Cobb couldn’t tell anymore if his main emotion was anger or sadness. He was incredibly angry. Angry at Fennec for going against what they had decided as a group. But he was also terribly sad. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell Din how he felt. Hadn’t gotten the chance to ask him what was going to happen when they went back to the States. He felt so lost. He took a deep, shaky breath, straightening his shoulders. He willed the tears not to fall. Not now. “If Din won, it would have been because he deserved it. Just like any of us.”

Boba struck the flint one final time and the fire roared to life a few feet from Cobb. He realized then how blurry his vision was and judging by the look Fennec was giving him, she could see why. He turned away, staring into the fire. 

“He didn’t have to go,” he whispered. “I could have gone.”

“Din didn’t want you to go,” Fennec returned sadly. 

Cobb snapped his gaze back to Fennec, not noticing the tears had fallen until he realized his cheeks were wet. “I didn’t want him to go.” He scoffed lightly when he realized Fennec didn’t have a response to his statement. He turned on his heel and tossed his bag where he and Din normally slept in the shelter. 

He was suddenly thankful for the fire allowing the cream colored parchment to catch his eye. He recognized it from a day when it came in tree mail so they could practice writing different symbols related to the country’s native language. It was folded small on the pillow Cobb used. 

He heard Boba behind him state that the next day was going to be hard and they should all rest. 

“I’m going to stay up for a bit,” Cobb managed to choke out. He cleared his throat, willing his voice to not break again. “I just need to be alone for a while.”

Boba patted his shoulder as he walked past him. “Take as long as you need, Cowboy.” He made his way to the other side of the shelter with Fennec following close behind. 

Once his two companions were settled down, Cobb took the parchment in his hand and made his way to the fire. He took a seat and carefully opened it. The tears that he thought were gone returned again and he held back his gasp.

Inside the folds of the letter was a ring. It was made of the stem of a weed that grew around their camp, made into a circle and wrapped around continuously until a design had been made. 

Cobb let out a choked laugh. He used his scarf to wipe his face free of tears. Tilting the paper towards the fire, he took a breath as he began to read. 

Hey Cowboy,

Consider this your loved one’s letter. If it worked, I got voted off tonight.

I’m sure you’re pretty upset about that, I’m sorry. I wanted to give you all the best chance to win. I wanted to give you the best chance to win. Don’t blame Fennec, please. It’s not her fault, it was my idea. You have a better chance of winning than I do and you have to believe that.

I know we didn’t get a chance to talk about it. I know so much is up in the air when it comes to our relationship. But you’re not getting rid of me so easily. This ring is a promise of that. I love you, Cobb. Please believe that. 

I hope I had the nerve to say that to you before I left.

Yours forever,

Din 

Cobb slid the ring onto his ring finger. He pictured when Din would lay beside him at night, tracing his fingers lightly with his own. He wondered if Din had imagined the same thing when he made the ring, judging how big to make it. He let one more tear fall before taking a deep breath. He folded the note up and placed it in his pocket.

He found his place in the shelter, looking out at the fire. He allowed his gaze to follow the embers up towards the sky, blending in with the abundance of stars above him. He knew if Din was there, he would have pointed excitedly to a constellation telling Cobb everything he knew about it. He always did that on clear nights. Cobb took the pillow Din typically used and held it close to his chest. He held it like a lifeline, pretending he had his arms around Din instead.

“I love you, Din,” Cobb whispered into the pillow.

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

On another island, Din walked out onto the desk of his hotel room. His hair was wet from his first real shower in over a month and in only a bathrobe he could feel the chill of the night. He looked up at the stars and sighed. He spotted a constellation and almost spoke a fact about it out loud before realizing he was alone. He could only hope that Cobb was okay.

Din vaguely heard the door to the room beside his open and somebody stepped out onto their shared deck. 

“Gotta be honest,” Migs sighed as Din turned to face him. “Was not expecting you to be coming here tonight.”

Din attempted to chuckle but it came out more as a scoff. He shrugged and turned back towards the stars. Migs joined him, resting against the railing. 

“What’s that one?” Migs asked, pointing up at the sky. Din turned and looked at him, confusion written clear on his face. Migs let his hand drop back to the railing. “You like stars, don’t ya? Cobb told me you’re a space teacher.”

“It’s called astronomy,” Din scoffed, for real this time.

“Yeah, whatever.” Migs fell silent for a moment. Just a moment. “So Cobb voted you off? Why?” 

Din hung his head. ‘Never a peaceful moment with Migs, is there?’ He sighed and gave him a half-hearted glare. “He didn’t know he was voting me off. He thought we were going to tie it. You were at Tribal, you heard our plan.”

Migs considered it, letting the idea bounce around for a moment. “So, you lied to him?”

“To protect him,” Din defended, harshly. He was unsure if he was attempting to convince Migs or himself.

“You’re in love with him,” Migs stated, not even glancing at Din. 

Din attempted to protest but it got him nowhere. He finally sighed and returned his gaze to the stars. He wondered if Cobb was already asleep, if he had gotten his letter, if he even cared about him at all anymore. 

“If Cobb wins immunity, who’s he gonna take?” Migs pondered out loud.

Din shrugged and turned to Migs with a smirk. “Why? You hoping Boba gets voted off next?” Migs snapped his gaze to Din, shocked, which only made Din laugh. “You weren’t hiding anything, Migs, everyone knows.”

Migs cleared his throat. “Even Boba?” 

“Boba knows everything about everyone, that’s how he’s made it to the final three. Would you really be surprised?”  

“No, I suppose I wouldn’t be,” Migs sighed. 

“Hey,” Din bumped his shoulder, “If Boba gets voted out, I’ll move rooms so you can be closer to him.”

They both laughed. “I suppose I could move rooms if Cobb gets voted off too.”

Migs held out his hand to Din with a rare bright smile. Din took it and returned the smile. He realized this was the first time he was shaking hands with a person in over a month that could only have a positive outcome. So many deals were made and so many broken. But this time - either way, no matter what, both parties were going to be pleased with the outcome. For the first time in weeks, both men shared genuine smiles with someone that was not the men of their affection. 

“Who knows,” Migs chuckled, turning back to the sky, “Maybe Fennec will be voted out.”

“Our votes would cancel each other out,” Din pointed out. Migs hummed, nodding, his eyes not leaving the skyline. Din turned his face back to the dark horizon and was suddenly struck with a realization. They were facing the island. If not for a mountain and a handful of trees, they would have a clear, albeit dark and hazy, view of the camp. Din sighed and pointed up towards the sky. “That one, right?” Migs nodded. “That’s Orion, one of the most noticeable ones. Those three stars there make up his belt and that red one up there as his shoulder, that’s a red giant. That one-”

Migs listened happily as Din went on about the different constellations they could see. Sure neither of them was with the men they wished to be with at the moment, but Migs knew Din’s heart was close to breaking. So for this rare occasion, Migs kept his mouth shut, and just let Din talk.

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

Cobb woke with sore eyes and a headache but he knew today was big. He rolled out of the shelter, adjusting his scarf.

“Morning, Cowboy,” Boba called from the fire, far too chipper for how early it was. The sun had yet to rise. “Day thirty-eight, how you feeling?”

“Tired,” Cobb grumbled.

As Boba walked away, towards tree mail Cobb assumed, Fennec took a few steps closer to him and held out a bowl of rice. Cobb looked from the bowl to her eyes, reading the worry in them and took the bowl with a weak smile. She smiled back as best she could manage and joined in him sitting at the edge of the shelter. “Are we okay?” she whispered, staring into her rice.

Cobb sighed heavily and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Yeah, we’re okay.”

“Alright, you two,” Boba called with the same chipper tone.

“He is far too excited about today,” Fennec mumbled, smiling when Cobb chuckled lightly.

Boba stood in front of them and opened the note left in the tree mail. “’You’ve made it to the final three, outlasted, outwitted, outplayed. You’ve done what fourteen others couldn’t, much to their dismay. Honor your fallen companions and reflect on the damage. Then earn a place in the final two at the last immunity challenge.’”

Cobb, Fennec, and Boba all sighed heavily. Cobb was the first to get up and with a clap of his hands stated simply, “Let’s get going.”

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

The torch walk was as emotional as ever. The three companions said their piece at each torch and collected their wooden tags. Some of their comments were sad or frustrated. Cobb hoped that some of Fennec’s comments didn’t make it to the final cut. Others were funny and lighthearted. 

“Oh, Migs Mayfeld,” Boba sighed as he untied the tag. “A worthy competitor.”

Cobb laughed. “If Din and I aren’t the couple of the season, you two are.” Fennec joined in his laughter as Boba rolled his eyes and kept walking.

When they came to the end of the walk, Cobb stopped just short of the torch.

Fennec sighed and turned to Cobb. “Maybe you should take this one, Cowboy.”

Cobb nodded and untied the tag from the torch. “Din,” Cobb sighed, “You were- something else.” Fennec and Boba chuckled. “In a game where absolutely nothing can be anticipated, I definitely never could have anticipated having you in my life. You could have won.”

“Might not have won,” Boba chuckled, “but y’all had your first kiss documented. How cool is that?” He placed his hand on Cobb’s shoulder and Cobb could only manage a weak smile in return. 

Cobb’s vision blurred slightly, and he rested his hand on Din’s torch to steady himself. He felt Boba’s grip on his shoulder tighten.

Fennec placed her hand on his back. “Are you okay?” The concern was clear in her voice but to Cobb she sounded a million miles away.

His vision returned to normal and he shook his head clear of the haze. He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. “I’m fine,” he muttered, “We have an immunity challenge to get to.” And then he was pushing past his companions and heading down the path. All Boba and Fennec could do was offer each other a look of concern.

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

“Welcome to your final immunity challenge,” Jeff stated with a bright smile. 

Cobb held back a groan. He was dead on his feet all day; he had no idea how he would win this challenge. 

“You will stand on two small platforms, one foot on each, and one hand will be placed on the idol. If you let go of the idol, your other hand touches it, or you lose your balance and step off of the platforms - you are out of the challenge.” The three players nodded. “Simple challenge but on day thirty-eight, in 115* heat, this is going to be tough. Let’s get started.”

Cobb stepped up on the platforms, one foot raised higher than the other. He raised his right hand to place it on the idol before freezing. He let his fingers curl into a fist before dropping his hand. He spun the grass ring on his finger with a smile before raising his left hand, finding a place to grip the idol where the ring was visible. 

“This challenge has started.”

The three players fell into silence. They only spoke when Jeff asked them a question, usually prompting them to remember how uncomfortable their position is. Cobb’s eyes stayed fixed on his hand- on his ring. Even when he answered Jeff, he didn’t look away, he couldn’t afford to lose his concentration.

“You’ve been standing up there for two hours now,” Jeff reminded them. Fennec groaned which made Cobb chuckle. “Cowboy.” Cobb hummed his acknowledgement. “Getting tired?”

“I’m exhausted, Jeff,” Cobb admitted with a sigh. 

“What’s keeping you up there? What’re you thinking about?”

Cobb let out a soft laugh. “Honestly? Thinking about Din.” Out of the corner of his eye he could see Jeff sitting forward, prompting him to explain. “Din could have won the game. Instead, he gave me a better chance to win. If I don’t come out of this challenge with immunity, I’m gonna feel like that sacrifice was for nothing.”

“Do you feel like you’re in trouble tonight?” 

Cobb finally looked away from his ring to spare a glance between Fennec and Boba to gage their expressions because truth be told, he didn’t know for sure if he was in trouble. He instantly regretted it. His vision went blurry, worse than it had when they were by Din’s torch. He squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head, gripping the idol tighter. 

Fennec looked around the idol at him. “Cobb, you okay?”

He nodded, knowing it was a lie. 

“Cowboy?” The concern in Jeff’s voice was clear, a tone he only used on very rare occasions. 

“Just a little dizzy is all,” Cobb muttered. He felt sick as he spoke. He fought to breathe deeply and regain his composure. 

Boba spoke up, “He hasn’t had anything to drink today.”

He lifted his head and chanced opening his eyes to look at Jeff. “I’m fi-” 

But that was all he could get out. He heard Jeff say his name, but it sounded distant like Fennec’s had earlier. His vision blurred again and he couldn’t bring his mind to register his hand slipping off the idol and his body hitting the ground while Jeff called for Medical.

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

“Let’s bring in the jury,” Jeff sighed as the Survivors took their seats. He counted every member in as they entered, per usual. Then finally, “Din, voted out at the last tribal council.”

Din entered smiling, he had worn a grey button down he had brought, a drastic difference from the hoodie had worn during the game. He might have been a tad upset with himself for having lied to Cobb, but he was desperate to impress him this evening. He had styled and restyled his hair five times before they left Ponderosa. This was the first time in over a month that Cobb would get to see him all proper and not completely in game-mode. He was excited.

That excitement was quickly snuffed as Din took his seat and finally looked at the remaining Survivors. Fennec, Boba- but no Cobb.

“Alright,” Jeff stated, taking his own seat. “This tribal council is really more of a recap.” He glanced at the jury before turning back to Fennec and Boba. “Would one of you two like to explain to the jury what happened today?”

“I will,” Fennec stated. She turned to address the jury, but her eyes fell solely on Din. “Before the immunity challenge, Cobb started to feel really not well. He hadn’t gotten very much sleep last night and we knew he was running on empty for most of the day, he was stressed. The challenge was purely endurance and he just collapsed.”

“So basically,” Jeff said, turning the jury’s attention back to him. Din felt like every word was said from under water. “Cobb is fine. However, he had a severe case of dehydration, was unresponsive for too long than anybody felt comfortable, and medical pulled him from the game.”

Din’s eyes began to water. He vaguely heard Migs mutter an, “Oh my God,” beside him but he could hardly process it.

“That being said,” Jeff continued, “Cobb is currently recovering at Ponderosa and will become our final member of the jury tomorrow. Boba and Fennec have made it to the final two.”

Din offered Fennec a weak smile that was gone as quickly as it had appeared. At least now he wouldn’t have to decide who to vote for between Fennec and Cobb. He couldn’t focus on Jeff’s words as he told the two finalists that their fate now rested in the hands of the jury. It didn’t matter, he had heard the words dozens of times, he knew them by heart. All he could do was will the tears in his eyes not to fall. Tears that formed along with the crushing weight of guilt in his chest. He couldn’t help feeling that this was his fault.

Once Boba and Fennec had left to make their trek back to camp, the jury began to talk. Everyone wanted to discuss who of the two finalists they felt deserving of a million dollars. Din just let the words swirl around him, everything sounded a mess. He was slow getting out of his seat, following behind the other jury members on their way to the boat.

“Din,” Jeff called from a few feet back. Din was honestly surprised he heard it but managed to pull himself back the distance, away from the other players. Jeff held out a piece of paper to Din. “Cobb’s room number back at Ponderosa. I’m sure he’d like some company.”

Din took the paper with a weak smile. “Thank you, Jeff.” He slid the paper into his pocket and met his fellow jury members at the boat to take them back to Ponderosa.

The ride felt so much longer than it did on the way to Tribal. Din hated every second of it.

He walked in a daze through the hotel until he found himself in front of a door with the number Jeff had written on the paper. He gave a weak knock, all of his energy gone. He heard a tired, “Come in,” and he opened the door, closing it behind him.

Cobb was laying on his side, his back to the door. His hair was wet still from his shower and he was in a hoodie and lounge pants. Din’s heart jumped at the sight.

“Hey, Cowboy,” Din whispered.

Cobb sat up faster than he ever had in his life, feeling dizzy for a moment. He knew he didn’t have the energy to get up at the moment, but how he wanted so badly to run into Din’s arms. He searched his mind for words, any words, but he couldn’t even bring himself to say Din’s name. He felt such a wave of emotions wash over him that the only thing he could do was let the tears in his eyes begin to fall.

Din was by his side in a second, kneeling beside him on the bed, pulling Cobb into his arms. They stayed like that for a long minute, Din stroking Cobb’s hair, much like he would Grogu’s when he was sick. “I’m sorry,” Din whispered once Cobb’s shoulders stopped shaking.

Cobb took a deep, shaky, breath. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“If I had just let it tie,” Din grumbled, increasingly getting angrier at himself. “If I hadn’t have lied to you- Fennec said you were stressed, I didn’t help with that. If-”

“If nothing,” Cobb whispered. He pulled away enough to meet Din’s gaze. “Medical said this has been building up for days, maybe weeks. It’s not your fault.” Cobb let out what was meant to be a laugh but turned out more as a sob. “If anyone should be sorry, it’s me. You gave up your spot so I had a chance to win and I messed it up.”

Din offered him a sad smile which Cobb returned. “Don’t say that. I’m so proud of you for how far you went. I just wish you hadn’t gotten sick.” He reached up and brushed his thumb against Cobb’s cheek, wiping away a stray tear. His heart broke when Cobb leaned into the touch.

Cobb glanced down at Din’s outfit and back up to his face. “You look nice,” he chuckled.

Din scoffed out a laugh and shook his head. “I made quite the entrance today a Tribal.” He adjusted his collar, his eyes falling to his lap shyly. “I wanted to impress you.”

“You always impress me.” Cobb placed his hand under Din’s chin, prompting him to meet his gaze. Cobb let his hand slide to the back of Din’s neck, playing with the ends of his hair. They stayed there for a moment before Cobb decided he couldn’t stand it anymore and sat forward slowly to place his lips softly against Din’s. It was the first time they kissed without any worry of other players or cameras or the game. Just them.

When they parted Cobb sighed and shifted to lay back down. He was exhausted and even Din could see that. Cobb tugged lightly on Din’s hand and Din laughed as he laid down beside him. Cobb tucked his face into the crook of his neck and sighed contently. Maybe he didn’t have a shot at winning any more, but at least he was with Din.

“I have no idea who I’m voting for,” Cobb whispered.

Din pulled back a little. “What?”

“Fennec played a damn good game but so did Boba. Boba and I have had an alliance since day one but that shouldn’t be what I base my decision off of.” He felt fresh tears form in his eyes again and he had no energy to keep them from falling. “Everyone else has had a few days at least to think about who they want to vote for. I only have twenty-four hours and I wasn’t even supposed to have to make this decision. I just-”

Din pulled back enough to cup the side of Cobb’s face again and bring him in for a silencing kiss. Cobb hummed against Din’s lips as Din ran his fingers gently float up and down Cobb’s back. When they broke, Din rested their foreheads together and gave a soft sigh. “Don’t worry about the game right now,” he whispered. “You have all of tomorrow to think about it. For now you need to rest.”

Cobb nodded and returned to his place against Din’s chest. “Thank you for the letter,” Cobb whispered, his voice horse.

“I needed to make sure you knew how I felt.” Din pulled back just enough to meet Cobb’s eyes. “I meant it. If you’re in, there’s no way you’re getting rid of me. This wasn’t just a part of the game.”

“I know it wasn’t,” Cobb replied. He gave a soft sigh and placed the lightest of kisses on Din’s lips. He broke to speak, only putting an inch of distance between them. “I’m in, Din. I love you.”

Din’s hand found its place in Cobb’s hair again as he pulled Cobb in for a deep kiss, more passionate than any of the ones they had shared until that moment. Finally alone in Cobb’s room at Ponderosa. Just Din and Cobb and the promise of an entire future ahead of them.

[philosophicusabicus]

Diaries in the Loony Bin

The Loony Bin is a group of individuals who could be called “friends”, but maybe that’s too suggestive. At any rate, this group has a diverse set of opinions on politics and sports, with voices across the political spectrum and through many sports. The intersection of politics and sports, in contemporary society, is met with disdain; however, the members of the Loony Bin seek to make it an acceptable space of discourse. Every week, when the asylum isn’t particularly chaotic (there can be no promises as to consistency of date), an entry will be posted, documenting the developments of thought and culture within these walls. Where many see lunacy as a vice, it is seen as a virtue here. The diary herein is will capture all of the voices of this group, but it will use only one narrator, striking many different chords and tones. Topics will change with rapidity, so be always on edge. Though, nothing will get too toxic, as most topics will be treated rather lightly, aiming at parody. We’re in the Loony Bin after all.

Entry #1:

Where saner minds prevail in the Loony Bin, there is the same old chatter about Brady; about how the Bucs will repeat; about the prospects of Tampa’s young roster. But, in the deeper corners of the Loony establishment, there are whispers of a new team in town — a team in the same conference which has been biding its time of late. The St. Louis R… Los Angeles Rams. This team has the defense of a Trump supporter pressed about another investigation; and they have Stafford now, who can be a completely average version of himself and still be better than Goff. They made the playoffs last year with the latter under the gun: by trusted and tried Loony bin logic, there is no world where they don’t fare better this year.

Alas, as we approach the eve of the NBA Finals, we would be remiss not to reflect on the curious outcomes of the playoffs we have just witnessed. The Suns are on the cusp of their first finals in 28 years, walking over a series of teams who were hobbled to their bones. 1st round against LAL, practically no AD. 2nd round against Denver, no Murray. 3rd round against LAC, no Kawhi.

Is anyone else seeing a curious trend here?

This is like the string of upsets that led to the election of Biden in 2020 — think Georgia, Michigan, and Arizona, among others. Speaking of Biden, nobody can say they’re overly happy with what he’s accomplished in his term so far, but then again many are still aboard the “anything is better than Trump” bandwagon. So that mass is just easy to please.

I have a story to relate. A guard patrolling the halls on a foggy evening last month overheard in a ward unit a patient on a delirious soliloquy. Ranting and raving was usual for this patient deep into the night, but this rave, this was different. “Trump’s rhetoric.. his mannerisms.. his behavior.. it is unfit for the Presidency. Nothing need be pinned on him from a legal standpoint for it to follow that he does not meet the standards of the Chief Representative of the United States. If you were to quantify the number of immoral exhibits he has demonstrated, however insignificant, they would add up to a hefty sum: a demeaning and vicious personality. A personality unfit for such a high position. If we have to pick political poison, let’s pick the lesser of the poisons.” The guard began to hear an uncorking of caps, a sloshing of potions, and a loud thump of a corpse, crashing to the floor.

There was a rampant disease going around the property, from hall to hall, greensward to greensward. Its many and various symptoms included: involuntary association with Big Tech, amnesia about mortgage loans and student debt; anxiety related to pressures of the labor and financial markets; headache and fever regarding quality of romantic life; and a strong preoccupation with taking selfies.

The Bin was in lockdown and every non-faculty member had to isolate in their respective wards. Hence, if the patients were to communicate to each other, a new way medium had to be contrived: they call it “Loonygram”.

As I understand it, though admittedly I understand it very little, one performs some kind of slippery action to facilitate the correspondence between users. From what I have gathered though, it has little chance of success without being a certified maniac. Many prefer the pleasure they derive from their own babbling monologues.

While a doctor was trying to rationalize his patient one day he got carried away on a sermon of his own: “Why the fuss over kneeling anyway? Just because some action affronts a symbol you respect, doesn’t mean the intention was to disrespect that symbol. Differentiating actions and their outcomes from intentions goes a long way out there. There was no intent to disrespect what that American symbolism; that was just a byproduct of an effort trying to gain respect for another symbol: social equality”

The patient, strapped to their chair looks helplessly up at the doctor and asks “So… that helps me in here how?”.

“Well, I suppose it doesn’t. Look, it aint all rational out there either, if you catch my drift”.

The patient scrunched his eyes circumspectly at the doctor before his attention was drawn to a fly buzzing on the adjacent wall.

These are curious times within these walls. An episode occurred on the Loony grounds one morning in which one patient wandered over to another, unprovoked, and yelled “my team is winning it all this year!”. The other patient, startled, replied “w..who is your team?” “w..what sport is this even?”

“I am at liberty to express myself; I have the first amendment behind me after all!” cried the provocative patient.

“Indeed, you do. But only where it doesn’t infringe on the freedoms of others” observed the second patient.

“And at what point is that?” jeered the first patient.

“Frankly, I’m not altogether sure. But let’s come to this decision mutually before you spam me with your raptures about the Yankees. Your favorite team is the Yankees, ya?

“How could you possibly.. know?”

“I saw you in the cafeteria last October, forking your pork chops like a feral animal; not long after Gleyber struck out for the 5th time that night either; I saw it in your eyes.”

How that altercation ended remains to be seen, since I merely borrowed it from the journal of another author, who has been missing ever since.

In other rumors, it is with great pain and sympathy that I report an exorcism which took place some time ago in the health dormitory on the fifth floor, all dust and eerie. The patient was being consumed by the demons of his loyalty to the Cowboys.

The pastor on hand, tending to his duties as exorcist, was on the verge of performing his most solemn task, when the possessed man said, as he foamed at the mouth “Elliot… Elliot”

“Excuse me? Elliot? What… Elliot���s going to be the most overrated running back in the league? I’m with you there” laughed the pastor, stuffing a hankerchief in the man’s mouth to muffle his screams.

“Dak. Dak. Dak. Back”

“Dak or not, there is a constant with the Cowboys. At the end of every regular season, they’re barely scratching playoffs.” applying the shock therapy he was taught in his vocational school.

“D..depth a..and.. youth.. a..at receiver” coughs the patient as he loses consciousness for the final time.

“Death and youth make a believer? That’s some sound philosophy my man. You’re impressionable when you’re young so that makes sense, and you live with more respect and appreciation for life as you get old and nearer to death. Truly well spoken”

“This one is one of the better cases, Mary” the doctor says as his assistant walks through the doors.

Tensions are up to a fever pitch these days. Just yesterday, two psychiatrists were shoving each other over whether the condition of the patients is binary or not.

“Their conditions are binary!? That is a very limiting way to view things. If the patient does not want to identify their condition as “sick”, and feels like they want to be labeled ‘sort of sick I suppose’, then the more power to them.”

“No, that is infeasible. If we do not have a clear threshold for their condition, then how can we administer their treatments? At what point? It would be arbitrary.”

“There is no essence of “sickness”; you can’t just define it in any terms you want, just so that it aids your goals; besides, they’re not really sick, sort of.” The insane man, lying on the bed for the entire course of the conversation, just looked blankly and confusedly at his doctors, thinking “so the stories you hear on the outside are true, these people really are Loony huh?”

Some disturbance is happening on the floor below me now, so I must close this entry and I will write another day…

[moonshroooms]

So like, here’s a part-angst-part-fluff Ponytail!Dib AU oneshot here ya go! I kinda imagined this lil scenario to be after but not-too-long after these Sad Idiots confessed their Undying Love to each other (I’m totally positive that’s the exact scenario reyna’s gonna take her au, trust me on this I’m a doctor).

Now the beginning of this is definitely more angst and Sad but it do get cuter at the end I promise VwV But anyways, here! *throws this on the ground and runs away*

=

Dib laid out all the ingredients on the counter, double checking he had everything the recipe called for. Flour, eggs, sugar, check, check, check. Getting everything without alerting Zim what he was up to had been more than a challenge but somehow he’d managed to get past the sneaky bug. All that was left to do was wait for Zim to be busy long enough to enact his plan.

“Alright, it’s a shortcake, how hard could it be?” He pulled up the recipe on his phone, mumbling to himself. Somewhere in the back of his mind a voice taunted that he’d mess it up somehow. He mentally shoved it into a box and sealed the lid. It’s fine, he’d be fine. Just follow the instructions, he could do that.

With his best attempt at a determined nod Dib opened up the flour, pulling a large bowl out of the cupboard, giving a glance at the instructions.

“Mix strawberries with sugar and ffuh mhmm…” His sentence trailed off as his brain rewired itself to focus on the strawberries. “Alright, strawberries first, then.” He dumped the carton of berries in a little bowl of their own, scooping out a few spoonfuls of sugar and stirring. And put them in the fridge. Okay, step one done. See? Wasn’t so bad. A part of him felt kind of dump pep-talking himself, but he knew how much his self-deprecation bothered Zim, so he was trying to fight it. Most said step one was talking positively, even if you didn’t really believe it, so that’s what he was gonna do.

Dib pulled out the flour and measured it, pouring it in the mixing bowl once it was at the right level. Next was baking powder, baking soda, sugar, and heavy cream. Dib ran his eyes across the bottle of cream for not the first time. The store didn’t exactly have just “heavy cream.” “Heavy whipping cream,” it read. The names were pretty close and he was going to try and make whipped cream anyways. It was probably the same, right? He couldn’t find anything saying it was different (not that he found anything saying it was the same, either). Somewhere that voice trapped in the box whispered that he was already fucking up. He was probably fine. If it was the only one the store had it was probably the most common one anyways.

As he mixed the ingredients together Dib allowed his mind to wander. That cold winter in his car, being sick in his apartment, lunch after lunch of carefully crafted meals, all wrapped in hearts and flowers. He found himself thinking about those times a lot. A large part of him laughed, wondering how he was able to jump through so many hoops to explain why Zim would go through all that trouble, what nefarious plot they could possibly be apart of, when the answer was (quite literally) written in front of him. A larger part said he was stupid if he really thought this was real, that this wasn’t just some long con at his expense and the ball would drop soon enough.

It wasn’t surprising the lunches were on his mind now, anyways. It’s what spurred the baking adventure he was currently on. Zim tried so hard despite Dib’s bad attitude, his denial, even his blatant refusal to eat at times. He wanted to return the favor, at least a little bit.

Dib let out a sigh as the mixture was finally done, rolling his shoulder a bit. Somehow the mixing was surprisingly tiring. Sure, he could keep up with the plots of an alien invader with technology far more advanced than his own since he was 12, but mixing cake batter was the real test of strength. Repetitive motion, he supposed. He poured the mix into the baking pan and stuffed it in the oven. Oh, shit, he forgot to preheat it. Did anyone really even do that? Seemed like a waste of power, honestly. He set his phone timer for an extra 10 minutes than the recipe called for, hoping that’d make up for it.

Alright, all that was left to do was the whipped cream. He was breezing through this recipe! He could almost imagine the look on Zim’s face when he got back. Sure, Dib didn’t have fancy wrapping paper, and honestly, the cake would probably look like shit. But as long as it tasted fine that was the most important part, right?

Dib pulled a separate bowl from the upper cupboard, combined the whipped cream ingredients, and got to work on stirring. The recipe said to use a mixer but he didn’t exactly have one of those, so he was stuck using good ol’ elbow grease. He tried to make up for it by mixing faster but figured the speed wasn’t gonna be a huge factor in the outcome.

Or, so he thought, at least.

Five minutes of mixing later and the cream hadn’t taken on any kind of fluffy quality. Just the same white goop. It was supposed to get light and fluffy two minutes in. Did he forget something? He rechecked the recipe. Cream, sugar, vanilla, lemon zest. It was all in there. Was he just not going fast enough? Maybe the mixer was more crucial than he thought. He plopped himself on the ground and kicked his whisking up a notch. Another few minutes and the only significant change was that the goop was maybe a little thicker. That, and he definitely got a good portion of it all over his shirt. Great.

Alright, the recipe did stress the heavy cream needed to be chilled before mixing. Did he let it sit outside the fridge too long? He could leave it in the freezer for a bit, let the cold firm it up a little? He swallowed down the rising disgust at himself, he was such a fucking idiot, he didn’t even know how to fix his mistake. Yeah, that’d work. With a grunt he got to his feet-

SMACK.

“Shit, goddamn it!” Dib instantly recoiled, clutching at the back of his head where the open cupboard lovingly smacked into his skull. He slammed the door shut with bang, the loud sound satisfying his anger a little bit. Stomping over to the freezer he shoved aside the assortment of raw meats and frozen veggies (things Zim planned on cooking at some point), and stuffed the whipped cream in, slamming the door shut.

“It’s fine, you’re fine. Nothing’s ruined, it’ll be fine.” Wow you’re trying really hard to sell this, huh? Can’t even convince yourself to buy your own words without lying first.

Dib leaned against the kitchen counter, silently fuming at the throb on the back of his head. He could feel self-loathing spilling into his brain like a fog, seeping out from that mental lockbox he tried to shove it in. He shook his head and did his best to focus on the goal. Zim would be so happy Dib made him a present, he’d get to see that huge smile that had his heart squeezing funny, ruby eyes lighting up with appreciation. The idea soothed his mind a bit. He could get through a few hang-ups if he got to see that expression and…

Was something burning?

“Seriously?!” Dib yelled as he pushed away from the counter. He threw the oven open and grabbed the baking tin only to recoil back in pain as his hand came into contact with the hot metal. Dib cursed, shaking out his hand and grabbing the oven mitt staring him in the face. Sure, go ahead, just fucking break yourself while making your thank you gift. Nothing says “I appreciate you” like making him clean up your fucking mess.

The tin landed on the stove with a clatter as Dib quickly turned away to grab ice for his hand.

Only to be greeted with a freezer that had whipped cream spilled all over it. The half-empty mixing bowl clattered to the floor as the door swung open, a few splatters of not-quite-frozen whipped cream leaping to the floor as it did. No, it’s fine, it’s okay. They could always just buy whipped cream at the store. He was pretty sure Zim wasn’t allergic to normal whipped cream anyways. You can’t even put something in the fridge without fucking it up? Why are you even bothering?

Dib stuffed a few ice cubes into a plastic bag and clutched his fingers around it. With a grimace he turned off the phone timer that only decided to start ringing just now and looked over the cake. Honestly, it wasn’t even burned that much, they could just not eat the bottom. Geez, you’re really going for a record trying to screw up every stage of this project huh?

Was the cake… supposed to look like a biscuit? He tore off a piece and popped it in his mouth. Was it also supposed to taste bland as hell like a biscuit, too?

Despite the bag of ice pain stabbed through the skin of Dib’s hand anyways, only adding to the misery of his failed creation. Look, he couldn’t expect things to be perfect. It was his first time trying to bake something. Plenty of people probably messed things like this up. You couldn’t even make a damn cake. Honestly, why did you even bother trying? How many other things have you fucked up that were way easier than cooking and you couldn’t even do those right? What made you think you could get this right?

Dib slid to the floor, focusing on the quiet sting of his burned hand. He felt that urge to visit the nearby drugstore. He might’ve bought a bottle of something, too, were his wallet not thoroughly cleaned out from buying all the cake ingredients. Couldn’t get drunk if he wanted to.

And damn he wanted to right now.

Amber eyes glanced around the kitchen, taking in the few splatters of whipped cream on the floor, quickly melting into puddles now. He… could at least up the mess he made before Zim got back.

The frown on his face deepened.

Well, knowing you, you’ll probably find a way to fuck that up, too.

 =

 Zim slid the window to the apartment open, wasting no time scurrying in and ripping off his disguise. How Gir escaped view of his cameras long enough to floor half the base he’d never know. Computer wasn’t any help telling him what happened either. Zim suspected whatever started the whole “beach party” idea was both Gir and Computer’s idea.

Zim’s internal ranting didn’t have long to continue before his now-freed antenna picked up the scent of something burnt, as well as something sweet and almost… milky? Compound eyes were greeted with a less-than-clean kitchen, used and abandoned cooking utensils, and a few tiny puddles of something melted on the floor. Confusion buzzed around the Irken’s mind before worry crept up his throat when he realized he couldn’t see Dib in the small space around him.

Slow-creeping dread dropped like a rock in his gut as anxiety moved his limbs. “Dib?” Zim called, receiving no answer. As terrifying rooftop rescues were at least they were known. What was Zim supposed to do for this new situation? What was the protocol?

His panic didn’t last for long as he skidded past the kitchen and caught sight of his human’s familiar form. Relief quickly flooded over him and he ran to Dib’s side.

“Dib-beast, what happened, are you okay?”

Dib jumped a little, as if startled from sleep, and looked at Zim. “Oh, hey space boy, welcome back.”

Zim frowned. Dib had that… look in his eyes that he didn’t like. That faraway look he often had during drunken hazes, staring off into nothing like there was a storm brewing in his head with threats of nothing good.

The alien grabbed Dib’s face with both hands, turning him left and right to check for injuries, Dib scrunching his eyes as he did. Zim pursed his lips when he noticed the melting pack of ice in his human’s grip.

“Burned myself on the stove, no biggie.” Dib shrugged. Zim’s brow furrowed, giving Dib’s cheeks a squeeze before getting up to grab some first-aid things.

“So, were you going to tell me what happened here or do I have to check the cameras?” Zim plopped back down next to Dib, pulling the injured hand into his lap to treat it.

Dib snorted. “Ha, nice try, I already found ‘em all.”

“Mhm, yup, you certainly did. No use looking for more, they’re all gone.”

Zim couldn’t resist a grin at the glare and eyeroll he received. He didn’t know if Dib had actually found all his cameras yet, but no sense in letting the stinky know if there were actually more or not.

“Sorry about the mess,” Dib mumbled. “I was gonna clean it up before you got back. I got kinda...” A sigh. “Distracted.”

Zim finished wrapping up Dib’s injury with a band-aid and glanced around the kitchen once more. It seemed to have been some sort of… baking attempt, from what he could gather. But why wait until he was gone to do it?

“You are forgiven… only if you tell Zim was all this-” he gestured to the mess “-was about.”

Zim watched his human’s expression as he started back at him, seeming to debate whether he wanted to elaborate or not. Finally, he looked away with a sigh and Zim thought he saw the slightest hint of a blush on his cheeks.

“I was uh, trying to bake.” Zim could only just barely understand Dib through his purposeful mumbling. “A cake. For, uh, for you. To say thanks, you know. For all the food you’re always making me.” As he spoke his cheeks got redder and he started scratching at the back of his neck, a habit Zim noticed he usually did when he was nervous. “As you can see it didn’t really work out that well.” Dib gave a laugh but it felt so hollow to Zim’s antenna. The kind of laugh you did when you were trying to assure others you were fine but couldn’t really put any effort in it.

As the Irken glanced around he could spot all the different bowls, measuring spoons, and other utensils his Dib used. He… tried really hard, didn’t he? And now he was on the floor, looking like the entire world was crashing down and it was his own fault. Sad and warm feelings both swirled around Zim’s gut, a confusing swirl of emotion he wasn’t sure how to process.

Zim placed his hand on Dib’s leg and leaned up to press his lips to Dib’s, much to the human’s surprise. Zim felt Dib stiffen only slightly before relaxing in his hold, reciprocating the kiss. Zim’s antenna instinctively wrapped themselves around the untied scythe of hair atop Dib’s head. Hmm, it was getting long. They’d need to cut it again soon.

Zim pulled back from the kiss only slightly, resting his forehead against Dib’s as he brought up a hand to stroke Dib’s cheek. “Thank you, Dib-beast.”

Despite the slightly flustered look Dib managed to pull himself together enough to furrow his brows. “For what? The cake’s not even good. Trust me, I tried it. All I managed to make is a huge mess.”

One of Zim’s antenna bent down to lightly bop Dib’s cheek. “For trying so hard to make something special for me. For going out of your way to make it a surprise. For telling me you appreciated the things I did.” Zim leaned forward to nuzzle against Dib. “Thank you for all of that.”

Dib let out a sigh and Zim felt arms wrap around his waist and hoist him into Dib’s lap. His human easily nuzzled into his shoulder and Zim did the same, feeling long legs bending up and resting against his PAK. They fell into their embrace so easily, like they were supposed to fit together. Zim was sure he’d be perfectly happy just sitting like this with Dib for the rest of time.

The two stayed like that for a long while, Dib’s lanky arms wrapped around Zim in a tight vice, Zim content to breathe in Dib’s presence. Eventually they were interrupted by a low grumbling centered at Dib’s stomach. Zim let out a snicker at the very graceful noise, earning him a slightly embarrassed “shut up” from Dib. Zim gave a smell peck on the lips to placate his human and rose to his feet, offering Dib a hand to help hoist him up.

“What do you say we try and make a cake some other time?” Zim offered. “Now that I know I’m owed a gift, of course.”

Dib looked down with a rueful smile. “Not worried I’ll mess it up?” He said with a slight scoff.

Zim’s brows furrowed as he rose up on his PAK legs to be at eye-level with his human. “Not at all because I know how smart you are. Besides,” Zim said, running a finger along a glob of wet goop and popping it in his mouth. Hm, slightly sweet. “You know baking is like, level 20 cooking, right?”

“Hah?”

“Yeah.” Zim reached into the fridge, looking for some leftovers for Dib, his eye spotting the tub of strawberries soaking in sugar. Oh, those looked good, they could probably use those tomorrow. “If you’re going to try something new you’re supposed to start at level 1, stinky. Most cooking you can just kind of eyeball how much seasoning you want for things. But baking is very exact a lot of the time. You humans took cooking and decided to make it as finicky as chemistry for no good reason.” He pulled a tub of spaghetti from the fridge and popped it in the microwave.

“With both of us tackling it we’ll make a cake that rivals anything some dookie-brained ‘top chef’ could make.” Zim plopped himself on a clean section of counter, antenna sticking up as he boasted for the both of them.

Dib scoffed with a laugh and pulled the spaghetti out of the microwave once it was done. He pulled a fork from the sink of yet-to-be-put-away dishes and leaned against the counter next to Zim. “If you say so, space boy.”

Zim’s antenna quickly accosted Dib’s hair as he neared, tangling and wrapping themselves into place, vibrating with a happiness that said they were exactly where they belonged. “I know so,” he replied matter-of-factly.

=

The two made the shortcake later that week, despite Dib’s quiet protests. Zim even stole obtained an electric mixer just for the whipped cream. Dib complained that Zim was making him do all the work (Zim’s repeated answer to that was “it’s a present for me, why should I have to do the work?”) Once it was all done though Dib had to admit, it didn’t look bad. Granted, it didn’t exactly look magazine-worthy, but it was presentable. Better yet, it actually tasted pretty damn good. Good enough that he had to fight Zim over the last piece.

For once, that voice inside his mental lockbox had nothing to say.

=

How in-character is this oneshot actually? It’s a mystery, who knows, certainly not me. It’s been sent out into the world how in character they are is no longer my problem that’s a y’all kinda issue now 💅🏽

Go! Take! A gander! At! @reynaruina ‘s Ponytail Dib! AU! If! You Like! To Cry! (Though things have been looking up in those little blurbs and comics reyna’s making so hopefully there will be less crying soon 🎉)

Fun fact: a huge chunk of Dib’s failure to make a strawberry shortcake from scratch was based on my own failed attempt. I still don’t know if there’s a difference between heavy cream and heavy whipping cream or if an electric mixer mattered. No, stuffing the whipped cream into the freezer didn’t help make it fluffy either. RIP my shortcake 2019-2019 🤘🏽😔

Double fun fact: Did you know apparently classic strawberry shortcakes are actually gross disgusting lumpy buscuit-ass lookin’ mutherfuckers and not fluffy sweet cake things? Whoever the hell thought purposefully bland cake was what strawberry shortcakes needed to be should be forced to step on legos forever. They also owe me 20 bucks cuz I thought I was making the sweet fluffy kind of cake and instead of forced to eat a flavorless biscuit with strawberries on it. EVIL.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #370

“breakdowns, obscenities, it’s all i wanna be”

Do you have any bad habits you aren’t working on changing? If so, do you ever think you’ll try to break them? Downloading music, for one. I really should just start using Spotify... but my iPod has over 1k songs on it and I just seriously don't want to got through all the trouble. When was the last time someone surprised you with their reaction or behaviors? Hm. I dunno. What kinds of videos do you like to watch on YouTube, if any? I watch SO many different kinds. It used to be pretty strictly let's plays, but I've definitely expanded my watching interests. Now I'm really into watching educational reptile and tarantula husbandry and keeping channels, I watch one woman who is like my weight loss idol (Jordan Shrinks, she is amazing), there's a few vloggers, I enjoy some World of Warcraft channels, and then there's a couple urban exploration guys I like. I also occasionally watch some beauty YouTubers just for their personalities and the art of it. Have you ever reached out to a crisis center for mental health support? If so, how was the experience? Yes, but they were so busy that I didn't connect with anyone before I finally gave up and ODed. When was the last time you did something you were afraid to do, and how was the outcome? Ummmm I don't really know. What is one positive thing you believe about yourself? I care a lot about other people. What is something you have been through that has made you stronger? The breakup. It brought me to the lowest of lows, where every day was a struggle to survive. It taught me I can endure through almost anything, even if it doesn't feel like I can. Other than money, what is something you wish you had more of in your life? Happiness, contentment, being in love, motivation, energy, activities, travel... There's genuinely a lot. IIs there anything that you tend to ignore for the sake of your sanity? I'm very bad at ignoring things. If something is bothering me, it's going to put up a beastly fight to be at the forefront of my mind. What is something you wish was different about your family? I wish we were closer and better off monetarily. What keeps you going lately? The hope for a happy, satisfactory future. Have you ever been in an unconventional relationship (long distance, polyamorous, same gender, age gap, etc)? if so, what challenges did this relationship present, and were they worth overcoming? I've been in a long-distance relationship with another girl. I think the hardest part was that there was not being able to physically be there for each other when one of us was really struggling, and sometimes communication was an issue, not being able to read body language when we voice chatted or hear the tone in which we "spoke" when texting, though I'm pretty sure that's an issue with any online relations. I also feel it's difficult to really build and experience your chemistry with one another when you're not physically with the other person. I still think all these challenges were worth overcoming, though. I in no way regret the relationship and got only good things out of it. What is the most unhealthy relationship (whether friendship or romantic) you’ve ever had? What made it so unhealthy? Do you still talk to each other? I'm kinda torn between Jason and Colleen, but I think my bond with Jason was ultimately more unhealthy because it went beyond love: he was an obsession. Having him with me was the only thing that brought me joy, and I lit-er-a-lly could not imagine my future without him. Like that concept just didn't exist; it was entirely impossible in my head. On his end, he failed to communicate what he was going through emotionally, which only contributed to the damage. I never knew he was struggling because of me. Without realizing it, I put so much pressure on him to make me happy, so to answer the last question, no, we don't, by his decision - and I don't blame him. Have you ever been abusive in any way? Were you able to change or make amends, or, in general, what do you think people should do to make amends in that situation? A neverending battle I have with myself is if how I treated Jason after the breakup was qualifiable as emotional abuse, specifically with messaging him things like "thanks for sending me to the ER" and shit. My therapist reassures me that it wasn't abusive because I wasn't being deliberately manipulative, but rather genuinely hurt and convinced I had been wronged and wanted him to know and acknowledge it. She agrees that it was wrong, which I entirely agree with, but sometimes, I'm still convinced I was abusive. I fucking hate answering this question, so hurrying up: I don't know if he's forgiven me. As for how others could reconcile, that's not for me to say. I know sometimes the answer is to NOT make amends and completely stay away from their abuser. It's not my right to tell others how to cope with their abuse. Have you ever forgiven someone for being abusive or allowed someone toxic back into your life? Did this person change for the better or not? My former best friend Colleen was toxic as all fuck hell, and I let her back in way too many times. No, she never changed. I honesty doubt she ever will, given her pride. When was the last time you did something “meant” for children? Do you think it’s okay for adults to do these things (ie. watch cartoons, have stuffed animals, dress in cute clothing, etc), or do you think there’s an age beyond which it becomes unacceptable - and if so, why? Hmmm... I know this was semi-recent, but whatever it was is evading me at the moment. I personally have zero issue with adults engaging in activities like that; let people do what they enjoy if they're not harming anyone, especially things as innocent as dressing how they think is cute, etc. I would far rather people "act like children" (not emotionally, you know what I mean) than run around the streets selling drugs and shit. What was the last thing to “trigger” you (as in, in a true mental health sense, I’m being serious here) and how did you cope with it? What kinds of things do you tend to find triggering? What do you do either avoid or face your triggers? When I was riding to the sleep study section of the health plaza, where the hospital is, my anxiety spiked quite a bit, recalling all of my ER stays for being suicidal. It didn't help that the psych hospital I visited most is also in that whole jumble of buildings. I dealt with it by reminding myself I was in that area for a very different reason, and Mom reassured me that where I would be staying was more like a small hotel room than a hospital bed, which was true, so that helped. Regarding the next question, I'm not gonna lie to ya, I have a stupid amount of PTSD triggers: certain music, shows, fandoms, places, smells, even tastes of certain foods. I tend to stay away from my major triggers, but I'll *sometimes* fight the tiny ones, because I want that sense of ownership of myself back. If you’re diagnosed with anything, do you feel that it accurately represents what you’re experiencing? Yes. What are some minor physical discomforts that really bug you (eyelash in your eye, a wedgie, rumpled socks, etc)? I'm VERY sensitive to feeling anything in my nose, and it leads to me needing to blow it a lot. I also can't stand having holes in my socks, but since I wear flip flops essentially everywhere, I don't experience this much. Are you ever afraid to admit to liking something because you’re afraid other people will judge you for it? What is the worst that’s ever happened as a result of you liking something different from the crowd? What about the best thing that’s come as a result of a unique interest? Y E P!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Nothing really bad has happened because of admitting my interests, other than hearing things along the lines of "I don't get it." It's very odd, just how horribly receptive I am to judgment about things I like when I don't recall a time where I was ridiculed for anything. But anyway, the best thing to happen from sharing interests for me is making a new friend that likes the same thing, and I will IMMEDIATELY be closer to you than most people I associate with once you've helped me past that vulnerable spot of mine. Have you ever remained good friends with an ex? Yeah. Do you have a negative view of mentally ill people, or are you mentally ill yourself? Do you ever call others crazy, insane, etc? Do you ever call yourself those things? I'm mentally ill and empathize heavily with those who suffer themselves. I absolutely do not have a negative look on mental health sufferers; we don't choose to be victims. I'm definitely not a big fan of abusing terms like "insane," because I've fucking been there, and it's not a term to take lightly. I've thrown 'em around before, but I try to avoid it. I don't call myself any of those things nowadays, but in the deepest trench of my depression and PTSD, I honest to God think I fit the definition of "insane." Does it bother you to have people comment on what you’re eating, or do you not care? What are some comments that would bother you, if any? Do you ever comment on what other people are eating or make assumptions about their intakes? YES. JUST DON'T FUCKING COMMENT. I get EXTREMELY self-conscious when my mom does this sometimes when I occasionally need a small snack to hold me out overnight, and I absolutely never will say something to someone else. It's just rude, imo. Well, I guess if someone was really destroying their health and I was close to them, I would out of concern and be very gentle, but when regarding most people? I'm keeping my thoughts to my damn self. Do you like Redbull? I've never tried it and don't want to. I'm not an energy drink fan. Who is the last person you spent money on? My mom. I remember I bought us fast food when we were out once. What are you looking forward to in the next 4 days? G U Y S!!!!!!!!! I GET MY TATTOO TOMORROW!!!!!!!!!!! :'''') Also on the same day, I start my TMS therapy, which I have high hopes for. Have you ever gone a whole day without eating? No. Do you sometimes use your music player to help you fall asleep? No, but I did that for years back in middle school. Have you ever had a crush on someone “too young” for you? No. Do you shave your legs more than once a week? Haaaaaaaaa. If you could cuddle with anyone right now, who would you pick? I really wish I could cuddle my late pup Teddy again. :/ I was thinking about that recently. Are you tanned? God no. I never am. Do you try to wear dresses whenever you can? No. I wish I was in a shape where I was comfortable wearing spring dresses again... I had this floral skull one in high school that I adored. Are you wearing something that belongs to someone else? No. Have you ever been called a bitch? Yes. Did you like the person you last kissed when you kissed them? I loved her. Who did you have a meaningful conversation with last? Sara. Do you have feelings for someone? Yeah, but they're like... on a leash, you could say. I don't let 'em run free and wild, and I know that even if nothing comes of those feelings again, it's fine. Are you trying to avoid liking somebody at the moment? I think Jason will be this answer for a very long time, if not forever, given the trauma and all. I have to remind myself frequently that I love his memory, not him, because I don't even know him anymore. It's been YEARS since we spoke. Just like I've changed incredibly, I'm sure he has, too. If you saw life in black & white, would that be okay with you? I mean, it would suck, but it wouldn't be the end of the world. When you wake up in the middle of the night and can’t get back to sleep, what kinds of things are you likely to do? How often do you find you have trouble sleeping? I do exactly what you shouldn't do and get back on the laptop. I'd say I most often get on WoW and refresh the auctions I have up because that tends to tire me out because I do that shit manually to avoid any addon mishaps, and I have a looooot to put up as a gold farmer. What was the last lengthy packet you filled out? Something to see if I qualified for a sleep study. Are you a patient person? What is one way you have a lot of patience? What about not very much patience at all? I am NOT patient, at least regarding more trivial things, like sitting in waiting rooms. I do have patience though with other people with more serious things, like getting someone to open up to me. At what time during the day do you tend to feel your best? What about the worst? When I first wake up. It's a "fresh start" and it's nice to feel rested. Plus, I open a fresh can of cold soda as my "coffee" for lack of better word, haha. I'm in my worst mood probably late afternoon/early evening, by which time I am incredibly bored and just dulled down. What was the last thing you did that you wish you could take back or do differently? The last thing... I dunno. How frequently do you stay overnight somewhere that isn’t your own home? What things do you miss about home when you’re away? Do you tend to get homesick easily? Pretty much never. I do miss my room and its privacy when I'm away from home, but I wouldn't say I get homesick all that easily, so long as I have WiFi, haha. Do you tend to eat more in the beginning of the day or at night? Do you have a tendency to snack when you’re bored? If so, what kinds of snacks do you normally go for? Not necessarily the beginning of the day, but definitely more than at night. I am BAD about snacking when I'm extremely bored, but at the very least I'm conscious enough to try and find something semi-healthy, like granola bars, fruits, a scoop of peanut butter, but I also sometimes just eat like... a slice of bread or a tortilla. Horrible choice. I'm a carb fiend and I hate it. If you have any dietary restrictions, do you ever miss foods you can’t have? If not, what’s something you haven’t had for a long time that you wish you could eat again? I thankfully don't have any. I've been craving cheesecake like a madman lately. :< The spicy shrimp fritas from Olive Garden, too. Is there something you still can’t do even though you’re an adult or might be expected to do this thing? I don't have my license, and my driver's permit is even expired. I'm terrified of driving. I also don't have a job, and I can't cook. When was the last time you congratulated someone? Were you happy for them, indifferent, jealous? Uhhh I think someone on Facebook had a baby. Of course I was happy for them. What was the last milestone you reached in your life (graduating, buying a car, starting a family, etc)? What milestone are you going for next, if any? Um... I haven't reached a true milestone in years. Hell, I don't think since I started recovery from the breakup. Do you enjoy getting comments or messages? How likely are you to leave comments or messages for other people? Yeah, it makes me feel cared about. It really depends on the platform on how much I leave other people comments, and I'm extremely shy about messaging, but I'll do it sometimes. When are you most likely to scream (either out of fright, anger, or whatever)? Do you scream or yell often? When was the last time someone screamed at you (or in your presence)? Frustration, for sure. I've screamed into a pillow more than once. I definitely don't yell or especially scream often. I'm sure the last person to yell at me was Mom, but I don't remember about what. What would you say is your STRONGEST emotion? Maybe not the most frequent, but the most intense? And what emotion do you feel most weakly, even if you might feel it more often? I'd saaaay... maybe love. When I love something/someone, I love HARD. I think I experience joy the weakest; it's very muted for me. And lastly, what are you listening to? Is this a band you listen to a lot "The Heretic Anthem" by Slipknot. I wouldn't say I listen to them a lot, but I have been more than usual lately.

[moiralovestowrite]

Drifter’s Wild Card Chapter 2

The woman ate everything Drifter put in front of her. The brown eyes that held soft warmth now held a darkness, like she could consume everything in the room if the man let her. It was like watching a starving animal. The old man had been in this position before, He remembered the pain that came with his stomach eating itself. The rouge lightbearer had helped the new re-born onto Derelict, the brunette was tattered and bruised, weak and hungry. Drifter was quick to get her patched up and fed while he waited for Eris to come examine her. Moondust had been completely speechless when Drifter explained what he had found. She called him a liar and demanded the truth. When the man insisted that was the truth, she turned her ship around and made her way straight for The Derelict. “Slow down kid, you’ll kill yerself at this rate.” Drifter chuckled before carefully removing the plate from in front of the woman, trying not lose a finger. Wiping her mouth with her torn sleeve, the nameless woman gazed up into the strangers eyes. Each time they made eye contact it felt like they were dancing. Drifter had never felt like this before, it was so new, so...nice. “Thank you.” With the kindest smile Drifter had ever seen, the man felt his legs turn to jelly. Taking a deep breath in and quickly attempting to put his mental walls back up, Drifter smiled and nodded. “Your welcome, save some for me eh?” The woman laughed, turning her eyes away from the man and began taking in the view of the ship. The ice glistened in the rooms dull lights creating a calming wave of energy. The woman knew nothing, she had no name, and her ghost couldn’t talk, like the old mans. It raised a lot of questions, truth be told, Drifter thought he was the only one in the world-hell the universe with that kind of ghost, one that snapped, one that was ready to kill. “I take it I’m different.” The woman asked in a soft voice as she began to get up from the table. The man was startled by her sudden question, placing the plate into his small kitchen sink. Shit. How was he meant to answer that? Did he go the brutally honest route? Tell her that she’s going to be hunted, to be tormented if anyone found out she was born from Darkness? Or did he charm his way out of it, saying that she was special like him? Before either one of them could continue the conversation, the dining room doors opened on the Derelict, revealing a terrified looking Eris Morn.

“Amazing…” Eris’s cold fingers trailed over the woman’s face, causing the young one to flinch. The woman didn’t like this kind of contact, it wasn’t like Drifters. It wasn’t there to help or calm her down, it was to poke and examine. She felt like test subject. “You’re ice cold. Yet you cannot feel it?” The brunette shook her head, watching as Morn circled around her, examining everything about her. “No I just-I just feel okay? Do you feel cold? Should I feel cold?” Panic began to set in as the woman thought about what this meant. She really was different wasn’t she? How long before she was in a zoo for people to stare at and play with? Eris Morn took a step back and let out a small hum. “Um, if it’s not too much to ask, Drifter left some clothes out for me, could I go change?” The woman’s manners were strange, she didn’t need to ask permission to get comfortable and yet she did, treating Eris like a figure of authority. The old man laughed and gently placed a hand on the girl’s shoulders. He knew that she was mentally freaking out, and to be fair he would be too. There was so much happening in such a short amount of time. “Go for it kid.” Drifter’s touch instantly calmed the woman down. The brunette gave the man a smile before she turned, heading down the hallway Drifter had showed her earlier. The moment she was out of ear shot Eris spoke. “We must tell the Vanguard. Zavala and Ikora need to hear about this. If there are more like her out there, this could be the Darkness making an army-” Drifter was quick to cut Moondust off. No way in HELL was he letting that big blue idiot near the woman. Just by looking at her you could tell she meant no harm, for fuck sake she didn’t even have a name! But Zavala would take her as a threat the moment he would lay eyes on her. “Moondust, you really think you can just stroll in there, show them this kid and they won’t kill her on the spot? This isn’t a Vanguard issue. This is a US issue.” Eris’s lips fell into a frown as she listened to the Drifter’s words. There was some truth to the statement. There was no telling what would happen if they brought the woman to the Vanguard. But if they hid her? The outcome could be much worse. It was worth the sacrifice in Eris’s mind. “It is just one soul. If she has to die, then so be it. This could save lives Eli. This could save us from the future.” The Drifter flinched hearing Eli come out of Moondust’s mouth. A logical part of him knew that someone else needed to hear about this, The Vanguard may be filled with idiot’s but they did help upon occasion. However deep inside the old man’s soul he knew he couldn’t let that happen. Dammit why was he so attached to this kid? Something about her, she felt like a part of him even if they had only met hours ago. “Then tell em this. You found a signal from the Darkness, you went to find out what it was, ya got there too late and missed the whole show, now the signal’s alive and there could be more like it. Simple. Hell don’t even mention the kid, the weird signal should keep em sniffing around for days.” Eris’s eyes sharpened upon the Drifter’s form, she could smell his desperation. “I am taking her with me. You do not get a say.” The man’s gaze turned into a glare as the two stared each other down. “Don’t do this moondust.” “I have to.” With a swift sudden movement, Drifter’s hand cannon Trust was placed upon Eris’s forehead. The man was fast, faster than she thought. Why was he acting like this? What was with this caring, this compassion? He had never had it before, did he see this woman as a gift from the Darkness instead of a threat? She could kjll them all without a moment’s notice! The former lightbearer slowly began to reach for her pocket, her fingers searching for her knife before Drifter’s foot landed directly upon her stomach, kicking her harshly into the ships wall. With a pained grunt Eris wrapped her arms around her stomach and glared up at the man. The gun continued to be aimed straight at her head. “I Think Its Time To Go.” Eris’s teeth grit as she slowly began to inch her way towards the dining room door. “You cannot hide her forever Eli. Do not think this is over.” “We’ll see about that.” The man snarled back, watching Morn leave the dinning room. He kept his gun pointed at the door for a few moments before he heard Eris’s ship leave. With a loud sigh, the man put his gun back into his belt and rubbed his hand on his forehead. Fuck, what had he done? Drifter began to turn, facing the hallway the girl went down. He had to put on a play, make sure she didn’t know what had just gone down. However he was too late for that. As he faced the hallway, his eyes instantly locked with the girls. She had seen the whole thing, DAMMIT! The man quickly shoved his hands into his pockets as he stiffened his back. Now she probably thought he was a monster huh? Suddenly, with no warning, the woman flew into the Drifter’s form, hugging him as tightly as she could. A tear trickled down from her brown eyes as she spoke. “Thank you…” The man’s arms were struggling, he had no idea what to do with this form of affection, he didn’t even know how to return it. Speechless, the man simply just took it, trying to hide his smile. She had just watched him attack another person and she was hugging him? Was she insane? A small chuckle left Drifter’s lips as he thought about it. Yeah, she was nuts, but so was he. This trusting feeling was nice. Too bad it wouldn’t last. After a few moment’s the girl pulled away from him, wiping the tears from her eyes. She was wearing Gambit clothing, snakes trailed over her form as the clothes hugged her hips and curves. Her long hair covered the back of the black leather robe while she stood easily in green heeled hunter boots. The old man smiled “No worries Moira.” The woman’s eyes widened as she heard the name leave Drifter’s lips. “Moira?” The man shrugged as he gave the girl a wink. “I think it suits you.” Moira was a strange name, one of the few that Drifter knew the meaning of. Funny enough, the name meant Destiny. The man had quickly realized why he had become so attached to her. She was going to change everything but first...she was going to change him, for the better.

[coffeedrivenfiction]

An Interview With Minato Namikaze!

"I am now sitting down with one... Namikaze Minato, Fourth Hokage to the Village of Fire, spouse to Kushina Uzumaki, and father to Naruto Uzumaki. Is this correct?"

"Um, yes. To the best of my knowledge, that's correct. ...So do I just pick any chair or...?"

"Any will do, yes...Great, there you go. Before we get started, would you be so kind as to state your name for the record? Voice recognition and all that there."

"Oh, uh, sure. Ahem... my name... IS... the legendary Minato Nami—"

"If I could stop you right there to ask what you're doing? With the whole voice thing and the menacing smile…?"

"…Welp. Now I'm feeling kind of dense but, uh… it was something my wife suggested. She said I lacked the kind of presence that kowtows others instantly, doesn't really think I'm a very intimidating Hokage compared to the others before me, which is… arguable, I'll give her that, so she—"

"—so your wife doesn't see you as fit to run the village, does she?"

"Oh, ha! No, no, on the contrary—she honestly believes I'm the best to ever hold the title. Personally, I think she's lost her mind on that one but I double dog dare myself to say that to her face…."

"Your wife believes you to be the best suited Hokage… in a hallowed line that includes the likes of Hashirama-dono and Tobirama-dono."

"Yuuuup."

"Is she perhaps on drugs?"

"Not that I know of, no."

"Ah."

"Mhm…."

"And where do you think you sit on that scale, Minato-san?"

"Me? Hm... Now that's a tough one. Where do I see myself, where do I see myself…? Well, honestly, I don't like to think in terms of strength—far as I'm concerned, nobody's topping the Godaime and even then, you can't really brute force your way into governing people—buuuuut… overall? I'd put myself somewhere in the top three, at least. I might not have had the longest tenure but what I did manage, I'd like to think made a big difference."

"You say the top three… including who else?"

"Whoever else fits the other two spots. You pick."

"My thoughts on that are superfluous, aren't they? As a previous Hokage, the only input that matters should come from y—"

"As the Yondaime, one thing I learned even before I took the mantle was that the thoughts and viewpoints of those who look to you for advice are just as important as any lone thought you might have on your own. A man who rules without guidance is doomed to fall under himself, but a man who takes in many perspectives expands his gaze beyond the stars."

"…That was surprisingly wise for one so young."

"I have my moments. Like I said, strength alone won't get you far as a Hokage, there has to be some sort of light on upstairs."

"Indeed. And do you think you filled the position as adequately as your wife feels you did? Or could?"

"As good as Ku-chan thinks I could have? Not even close, but her standards are ridiculously high. Perfectionist, loud, commanding—I could live three lifetimes and still not match the greatness she sees in me. Bring it down to normal standards, though, and I don't think I did too bad…."

"Any regrets?"

"More than you or I have the time to go over."

"I imagine so..."

"Better to only imagine than live with it, I say."

"Are you scared of Kushina-dono?"

"Question outta left field there, but am I? Yes."

"That… was a surprisingly quick response."

"You asked a surprisingly easy question."

"I—well, normally, most would hesitate, not really want to answer one way or the other, but you…."

"Ha, my wife is scary as all hell, that's just facts. I fear her more than any enemy I could ever cross kunai with on the battle field. At least I know I stand a chance at beating them. My wife? Naw. Might as well call it done."

"Are you really saying that a Hokage cannot defeat his own wife in battle?"

"What I'm really saying is by default of her being my wife, she automatically wins. I was defeated in all the ways the moment I said 'I do' as far as I'm concerned. That's what she said and I don't even mind."

"Interesting…."

"Just a course of life that I've learned to lean into, really. My wife is adorably headstrong, I want her to be the best."

"And what about your son?"

"What about Naruto?"

"We have a staggering amount of questions here, mostly from fans, some from interested third parties, who want to know your true feelings on his treatment at the hands of those belonging to the village you pledged to defend?"

"Ah… my honest feelings…."

"Yes, if you could honor us with such a thing."

"…Once you become Hokage, I remember the Third telling me… it's like every single one of Konoha's citizens, they become your child. Yours to protect and guide and nurture. Sometimes, it's a trying thing… to watch as your children squabble and hurt one another, especially when most of that ire seems aimed at one of the children you quite literally created. Then, it becomes something different… your views get twisted, nothing makes sense anymore and all you feel is this undying, all-consuming rage coursing through your veins.

"In the beginning, it really hurts, that rage… it's probably best to be by yourself during the first few waves because it's not something anyone should ever let influence their moves. I was… lucky, to be gone. Extremely so. Over the years, watching him, watching them… ah, I'd be lying if I said it got easier. It never did. Did it become tolerable? Not really. In fact, if I'm honest, as you've asked me to be, I still hold a great deal of loathing in my heart. More than I'm comfortable with carrying—more than I thought I was capable of carrying.

"Eventually, in the end, it was my child who saved me from my own anger. Kinda odd when I think on it because… normally, subjecting someone to that kind of brutality for so long, they would naturally want to seek some sort of revenge, right? But Naruto never did. He took all that hate and… and he gave them shelter. That… I would swear he wasn't my child at times because I don't know where in the world he got kind of strength. To this day, I'm still confused, ha. Like… such a small human that I made—me—and well, wife included, but still—and he just… without any guidance… he didn't let any of that hate change who he was, you know? He had every right to, every inclination, and yet…."

"Minato-sama… are you okay?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah… yeah, I'm… just thinking is all…."

"About what?"

"How truly blessed I am to have had a kid like Naruto."

"I think most would agree with that sentiment now."

"Yeah…."

"Were you excited to see him learn the Rasengan?"

"Was I? And in a little over a week? That's the point where I was like 'my son is a prodigy'! Well, I always figured—Ku-chan, too—but that right there, just wow….Took me three years, took him less than ten days. Amazing…."

"Do you wish you could have taught him your Hiraishin jutsu?"

"Every single day, yes."

"Cute. Did your wife ever want to learn it?"

"Not initially, no, but once I put a mark on her so I could teleport to her side if she ever needed me, she saw that side of the technique, how powerful it was on the protection angle, and wanted to learn it just so she could come to Naruto for the same reason. Obviously… that didn't really come to happen…."

"Unfortunately, no, although I daresay your wife probably would have driven that newfound ability into the ground."

"Pft, that's an understatement. It takes a fair bit of chakra control to orchestrate but the Uzumaki's are known for their near bottomless chakra reserves so she would've been teleporting all day and night and you know what? Actually, on second thought, her not learning my technique is probably the single best outcome out of all of this."

"Would you say that in front of her?"

"Absolutely not."

"Ah. Well… I think that'll just about do it for now, um… yeah, we got through a lot of questions—definitely not all of them, but we'll save some for next time, yes?"

"You like it, I love it. This was okay, I'm glad Ku-chan pressured me to do it."

"Then so am I. Does that mean you'll be open to more questions in the future?"

"Of course. As the former Hokage, I am in service to those who need me."

"Excellent. Well, until next time, this has been… an interview with Namikaze Minato-sama."

"Well, erm, not to be rude or anything but I'm just gonna teleport out of here, okay?"

"As you please."

"Great. See ya!"

[homiegeesus]

The Year of Magical Thinking, Ch.1

Summary:  Francis Sinclair believed Arthur Morgan had not finished living. In a second chance at life, Arthur discovers what it means to love himself.

At the edge of a precipice and nowhere to run, Arthur concedes defeat. In an extraordinary turn of events, he is sent through the ether to another time where his path crosses with a group not too unlike his own family. After discovering the fate of those he loved before, he races to find a way back. But what if he realizes that there is something worth staying for in this new world? Can two people separated by nearly a hundred and twenty years of living find their happily ever after?

________________________________________________________

So…Super nervous posting this. It’s the first time in a few years that I’ve written anything (the first fandom-centered work I’ve written since like 2005 lmao; Gilmore Girls anybody?) and it shows. But, alas, I’ve been incredibly inspired by RDR2’s story and the way other authors on Tumblr & AO3 have expanded on it. Shit guys, dunno if anybody is even going to read this, but I’ll push it out of the nest and into the world regardless. This may be the stupidest idea ever, but whatever, I’ll let y’all decide. A warning: This is not beta'd, but I reread it like 50 times. Still, I apologize for my terrible grammar. And, yes, I have shamelessly lifted the title from Joan Didion’s fantastic book. It just fit. So. Well. I’m terribly uncreative, so please forgive me Joan. Also, my only knowledge of 1920s-speak comes from F. Scott Fitzgerald, Clara Bow movies and Googling. I don’t know if anybody ever really said ‘old sport’, but what the hell. On another note, there will be a few things taken from the GTA universe, but it's minimal (San Andreas/Liberty City do not exist). I'll be explaining through a secondary character how states in RDR became the modern states that we know. And finally, constructive criticism welcomed and appreciated!! Anyway, here's Wonderwall...

AO3 Link

Warning: This is me working through my “stuff” vicariously through Arthur Morgan and co.

The Year of Magical Thinking

Chapter 1 - Prologue (or A Dream of Arthur Morgan)

Roanoke Valley - 1899 Peace settled over Arthur Morgan like a warm embrace; the rattle in his lungs that had invaded his every waking moment these past few months now a distant feeling. With each labored rise and fall of his chest, drowning in his own blood, he spared but one final thought.

It’s over. It’s finally over and death would soon come for him.

This wasn’t how Arthur had envisioned his death. No, he had always thought he would die with a bullet in his chest and cordite in his lungs. Not at the behest of disease and treachery. Such a shame that wisdom should only come to him on his deathbed. If only…

That’s what it came down to, that’s what it always comes down to. If only, if only, if only, his mind repeated nonstop. Regrets, Arthur had plenty of them. For months, he had been sinking so far in regrets, he could scarcely breathe. What could he have done differently that would have given a better outcome? How had he not seen Dutch’s descent into mania? Arthur supposed that maybe he had seen but chose to ignore, because when had Dutch ever led them astray.

Micah. Arthur had so many regrets about that goddamn snake. Micah had attached to Dutch like a leech and sucked every drop of the very lifeblood of the gang. He had played on all of Dutch’s insecurities and weaknesses. Arthur’s eyes were finally open, for all the good it did him now. But that rat was only one of the last in a long line of regrets he would have in his life. Arthur’s craving for penance started long before Micah came along.

Maybe Arthur himself was the leech, a disease – an infection. Death and pestilence followed him around like an acrid smell. It was something that seeped into his skin, clawed its way inside like a cancer until it reached his soul, the very center of him. Not happy with just him, it carried through the air and infected everything he had ever cared for or loved. His mother, Hosea, Mary, Eliza and –

Isaac. Arthur still had trouble even saying his name, so wrapped up in guilt as he was. During the rare times he found himself alone, thoughts of the little towheaded boy would invade his mind. Being rightly familiar with cowardice, he would press the tips of his fingers to his skull until they felt like ten dull knives, as if to physically rid himself of the painful memories. Of course, this rarely worked and he was resigned to suffer through the punishment he subconsciously forced upon himself. And now, as he laid on the jagged gravel of this cliff, he finally welcomed the comforting mental images of his son.

Feeling the weight of a life lived recklessly lift slowly from his mind, Arthur turned his head towards the setting sun, his final thought being: I gave it all I had.

___________________________________________________________

Francis Sinclair had one rule:

Don’t mess with the timeline.

It had seemed so easy in its simplicity. In the beginning, that is, until it wasn’t. He hadn’t counted on Arthur Morgan. For a bad man, he sure did a lot of good. Probably more than he realized. When Francis had asked the outlaw to find the futuristic rock carvings, he hadn’t expected Mr. Morgan to deliver. Especially not in a matter of months. Chronos himself probably would have found the task trying.

So, in 1932, when Francis had read about the fate of the Van der Linde Gang in a new hit novel by J. R. Miller, he learned that the coppers had closed in on his ole friend, and well, that just wouldn’t do. He understood that he wouldn’t be able to find Mr. Morgan in the time needed to prevent the most unfortunate aspects of his fate, but he could prevent the ultimate one. What he didn’t expect was to find the man with one arm in a Chicago Overcoat.

Francis pulled the horse-drawn buckboard to a stop in a clearing next to the crag and hopped down. The air was calm and filled with the late evening chatter of the local fauna. He jogged the incline of the rock until a recumbent figure came into his field of view. It wasn’t until he was a few feet away that he noticed the extent of the man’s injuries. His blue shirt stained brown, gone was the desperado’s worn black leather hat, in its place a matte of blood and dirt in his previously honeyed blonde hair. His once handsome face gaunt, his ashen skin a mess of bruises and cuts. One eye was swollen shut, blood trickling down the corner of his mouth. Was he even breathing? Francis was running out of time.

“You’ve a lot more living yet, old sport,” the red-head crouched down and placed two fingers against the outlaw’s throat finding a slow, but steady pulse. “Yes, a lot more.”

Mr. Morgan groaned.

“Come on, we gotta find a way to get ya on your gams, ya follow?” Francis grabbed the man’s arm and tried to pull him into a sitting position. Morgan was having none of that.

“Let me– let me die, damn you,” he wheezed on an exhale.

“No, no you poor little bunny. Can’t do that. Now up you go,” Francis pulled once more, this time succeeding.

In a broken voice, Arthur pleaded, “Goddamnit, jus’ let me alone. ‘M so damn tired.” When he finally raised his head and opened his good eye, a look of recognition passed over his face. “You– “

“Yes, me. Now, let’s scoot. You don’t have much time, Mr. Morgan.” Francis placed the man’s arm over his own shoulders, Arthur allowing himself to be hauled into standing.

Arthur weakly protested, “’M dyin’, Mr. Sinclair. I’m a dead man. Ain’t no use in helpin’ a dead man.”

Francis just laughed and replied with the strain of half-carrying a grown man in his voice, “No, Mr. Morgan. As I said before, you’ve a lot more living left to do. Now, conserve your strength.”

Likely out of exhaustion, the outlaw did not say another word. They barely made it to the buckboard before Arthur collapsed. Just before Morgan would have fallen to his knees, Francis used the momentum to haul the man into the back of the wagon. As Francis grabbed each of the larger man’s legs to swing into the bed, Arthur’s breath rasped in his throat, “Why you doin’ this?”

Francis regarded him for a moment before saying, “Because you helped me get outta a pretty big pickle.” He paused, then smiled, “And because you’re terribly important to a lot of people, baby.” And with that, Francis climbed back up to the seat and flicked the reigns.

___________________________________________________________

Well, shit.

Arthur’s plan to die in peace had been upended by a curious red-haired fellow in a blue sweater. With no energy to ruminate further, he resolved to die in the bed of this damn wagon. As the cart trudged backed to the main road, Arthur’s worn body felt every mound and stone the wheels rolled over. Finally, on a relatively smooth surface, he allowed himself to observe his surroundings. Tall pines and hemlock blurred into each other passing in his periphery as he stared at the spattering of stars visible through dark clouds. The sun had officially set in the last thirty minutes and all that remained a reddish orange hue near the horizon. Above him though, what a sight indeed. Bright stars twinkled along the Milky Way, like God himself spread them with a paintbrush across the sky.

Why had he taken all this for granted? So many nights spent under these same stars, but Arthur never really paid them any mind except for navigation. How many years before the artificial lights of the cities overpowered their natural beauty? Unable to ponder any longer and continue the fight to stay conscious, Arthur resigned to close his eyes and place complete trust in the relative stranger.

What felt like moments later, or hours Arthur was unsure, cold droplets of water forced his good eye open once again. A murmur of thunder rolled in the distance. Mr. Sinclair finally turned around, his voice deafened by the creaking of the wagon and heavy breathing of the horses.

“We are just a minute away. I think we’ll make it before the worst of the storm hits.”

But like an omen fitting of this night, Sinclair was wrong. What began as random drops here and there crescendoed into a torrential downpour. The red-haired fellow should have known that hitching his wagon to the outlaw would herald an abundance of bad luck. Unable to shield himself and too tired to care, Arthur welcomed the deluge as if it would wash him away.

Mr. Sinclair halted the horses and hopped down from the buckboard once more. He appeared in Arthur’s line of sight as he unlatched the tailgate, setting down a lantern and grabbing the larger man’s arms in another tug-of-war to get him sitting. Water poured down his face and converged at his chin.

“We just have to ankle about ten feet to the opening,” Sinclair hollered over the rain. “You ready?”

At this point, Arthur would have conjured up his most intimidating mien but there was no energy for that. “No,” he answered defeated.

Unperturbed, the younger man smiled, “That’s the spirit.”

Grabbing Arthur’s arms, Mr. Sinclair placed one across his shoulders. When he hauled the outlaw into standing position, Arthur’s world tilted. Feeling unable to breathe and so lightheaded, he launched into a series of hacking coughs. Blood splattered against his hand and mixed with the rain, diluting until it turned into a river of pink down his arm. He looked to Sinclair. Wet hair plastered to his forehead; the cold of the rain made the strange man’s curious birthmark stand out all the more against pale skin.

“When you gonna see that I’m already dead?” His weakened voice barely heard above the storm.

The redhead looked at him, “Please, just trust me.”

They began their short journey to wherever it was they were going, walking only yards but feeling like miles. By the time they reached what appeared to be a cave entrance, Arthur’s knees buckled and his vision went black. He would have felt hitting the ground, if he’d been conscious. Coming to seconds later, he became aware of his arms being tugged above his head. Mr. Sinclair was apparently dragging him. Deep down, Arthur briefly admired the man’s grit. However, the sentiment was soon replaced by annoyance and near-agony as the sensation of what felt like an elephant settled atop his chest. In and out of consciousness, Arthur realized they had stopped when Sinclair crossed the threshold to grab the lantern at the mouth of the cave. The red-haired man set the lantern between the outlaw and the cave wall and then perched above his head, grabbing both of his arms by the wrists. Arthur could see the younger man’s mouth moving but could not discern the words, only comprehending ‘listen’ and ‘your hands’.

Sinclair then placed Arthur’s large hands against the cool stone wall. Even in his delirious state, he recognized the carvings he had previously found for the peculiar fellow. He could feel the vibrations of the man’s voice behind him in what felt like a chant, but he still could not determine the words. To Arthur’s astonishment, the outlines in the rock began glowing a mute bluish color. What began as a slight tingling in his fingertips turn into full body experience. Reality dissolved into nothingness and became a pure void. And then –

Everything.

Every single moment in his hard life experienced again but in hundred times the speed. This must be it, Arthur thought. God must be forcing him to relive every chapter of his rotten existence before He banished him to the fiery pits of Hell. Familiar faces began to permeate his view. Arthur tried in vain to reach out at the image of his mother. Beatrice Morgan may have been alive for only a small portion of his life, but he would carry her memory with him forever in the form of a flower at his bedside. Unpleasant memories began to flash as Lyle Morgan pervaded his vision. The son of a bitch had been a vile presence in his young days, a man who Arthur would live in fear of until the moment they finally hanged him. Arrested for larceny, his death hadn’t come soon enough.

And then Hosea appeared, someone Arthur had thought of as more of a father than even Dutch. The man had been convinced by the raven-haired outlaw to take a chance on a scared gangly boy who had just tried to rob their room. Starved and desperate for family, Arthur had latched onto the men soaking up anything they would teach him. And teach him they had.

More memories raced by, and Arthur caught sight of a beautiful brown-haired girl. Mary Gillis, the visage of her still enough to stir his pulse, laughed and blushed like a young woman in love. Even in the inevitability of their parting, Arthur had still carried the hope that they’d one day reunite and ride off into the sunset together. If not for Guarma and the mess that had come from the robbery in St. Denis, that may have been his future. Not the hellfire that awaited his damned soul.

And then, Eliza. A young girl of nineteen, Arthur had found comfort in her embrace in the wake of heartbreak. Intent on forgetting Mary, he foolishly took advantage of a girl’s infatuation and followed her to a room above the saloon where she worked. What had come from the union was a beautiful gift but more a curse. Isaac had his mother’s hair and his father’s eyes. A happy baby from what Eliza had told him. Until a group of transients killed them both over ten dollars. Arthur had just whipped up a tidy sum from some cattle rustling and had set his compass to visit his secret family, fully intent on giving Eliza all of the hard-earned money. What greeted him would harden his heart and set him on a path of wickedness. All he had to see were the two graves to understand what had happened.

Like a moving picture, the entirety of his life played before him. If this was what the devil had in mind for his punishment, it would be a hellish eternity. Forced to relive every mistake and misstep he’d ever made; it was what he deserved. But as the memories neared their end, he began to feel a weightlessness. Every atrocity and sin that had weighed heavy on his shoulders suddenly lifted. Again, everything went black.

But then –

Stars. Billions of them. Clearer than any night sky he’d ever seen. Galaxies and distant worlds powdered his vision like puffs of freshly picked cotton. No longer held under the burden of sickness, he took a deep and easy breath. He hadn’t felt this well in months – no, years. Was this heaven? Could God forgive a lifetime of misdeeds? Arthur may have never been a good man, but he did try to be better – in the end. But, no. He was irredeemable. This was a final punishment. A peek at the peace and serenity that redemption would have gifted, before God cast him from the light.

The answer was seemingly given when an unnatural force dragged him back through the ether. Again, hundreds of images flashed in his sight, but this time the memories didn’t belong to him. Too fast to discern individual frames, he could only pick out one reoccurring subject. A woman with dark blonde hair and a bright smile that formed two apple cheeks. Strangely familiar, his memory told him he didn’t know her, but his subconscious shouted in recognition. Then she was gone and with her the remainder of his vision.

Everything turned to black once more.

[canyousevmyheavydirtysoul]

Bodyguard II: Familial Ties (Part II - Chapter 5) (Brendon Urie x Reader)

The distant mountains glinted snow in the early morning light as Doctor Selvig surveyed the vast desert, cup of coffee in hand. After taking a moment to marvel over the beautiful sight, he turned back into the lab and saw Jane, busy at her workstation, soldering a piece of equipment.

A printer was churning out blown-up screen-cap photos of the Bifrost footage and Darcy collected them and proceeded to hang them on the wall. To Darcy’s right were you and Aaron, tucked away on a bench just out of earshot of the other three, and engaged in hushed conversation.

All of you had been up all night, fuelled by caffeine and adrenaline, albeit for different reasons. Jane, Selvig and Darcy were full of excitement, working tirelessly to try and come up with a scientific explanation for the anomaly you’d all encountered the night before. Technically speaking, Aaron should’ve been joining in on their excitement, since it was his consultation, but he was far too caught up in your side of the event to even give Jane’s star charts a second glance.

“He recognised you,” Aaron spoke softly.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, nodding once and wiping your palms on your jeans, “And he was about to call me by my Asgardian name.”

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it? That he knows who you are?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, creasing your brow, “It could be a good thing or it could be a bad thing. I mean, he literally just crash-landed out of nowhere; we have no idea why or how, and we have no idea what it means.”

With a shaky hand, you reached forward to pick up your coffee cup, but the tremor in your hands were so bad that you were unable to keep it still for even a few seconds. Aaron hurriedly collected the cup and gently handed it to you. You thanked him and took a gulp.

“But there is one thing I know,” you continued, “and that’s that he and I can’t come into any kind of contact – or see each other – until we know what’s going on.”

“Because we don’t know whether or not he’s hostile,” Aaron finished your thought and you nodded in confirmation. He sighed and leaned back a bit. “I sincerely hope he isn’t. It’d be wonderful to be able to have a chat with him about, well, everything. And he’d be able to offer you some guidance; lord knows all of us down here haven’t been doing too well with that.”

“Yeah, I hope so too.” You looked down into your coffee, noting the small swirls of milk on the surface. “But in the meantime, you should probably do your job.”

You elbowed Aaron lightly and nodded your head at the group in front of you frantically studying the images, and the doctor turned to observe them, squinting his eyes slightly as he mulled over the pictures that Darcy had hung up.

“We might want to perform a spectral analysis,” he said eventually.

Jane quickly turned to look at him, a glimmer of elatedness in her eyes. “”We”?”

“I flew all the way out here,” Aaron shrugged as he stood up and started making his way forward, “might as well make myself useful.”

With a smile, Jane got up and inserted the piece of equipment she’d been working on into a rack-mounted server.

“You know what would be really useful?” She turned to glance over her shoulder at Selvig. “Do you still have that friend at LIGO?”

Selvig chuckled, cheeks burning up. “She was more than a friend.”

“Could you call in a favour?”

“You don’t think this was just a magnetic storm?” Aaron enquired, stepping closer to get a better look.

Jane shook her head no. “If I’m right, their observatory must have picked up gravitational waves during last night’s event.”

“Meaning?” Selvig frowned in perplexity.

Jane rushed over to a computer monitor, with the two doctors following closely.

“Meaning these anomalies might signify something bigger.”

“How ‘big’ are we talking about?” Aaron asked, readjusting his glasses.

Jane motioned to footage on the monitor – the video she’d taken the night before. As the last of the Bifrost cloud disappeared into the night sky, there appeared to be a blister in space, bulging out in convex and covered with stars.

“I think the lensing around the edges is characteristic of an Einstein-Rosen Bridge,” Jane explained what her view on the situation was.

“A what?” The utterly confused voice of Darcy sounded through the lab.

Selvig frowned at her. “I thought you were a science major.”

“Political Science,” she clarified.

Selvig shot Jane a confused look. “She was the only applicant,” she shrugged, referring to the internship program.

Aaron held out his hands and began explaining; you listened, too, since his science talk always entranced you. “An Einstein-Rosen Bridge – a ‘theoretical’ connection between two different points of space-time.”

Darcy stared blankly.

“A wormhole,” Selvig simplified it for her and she finally nodded in understanding.

Meanwhile, Jane had printed out a frame-grab from the monitor, and she now held it out for the two doctors to see.

“Erik, Aaron, look…”

Jane pointed at the print-out showing the constellations seen through the ‘bubble’ in the clouds.

“What do you see here?” she asked.

“Stars,” Selvig answered.

“Yes. But not our stars.” She made haste of spreading out a star chart, barely able to contain her excitement. “This is the star alignment for our quadrant, this time of year. So unless Ursa Minor decided to take the day off… those are someone else’s constellations.”

The doctors looked on, intrigued, as Darcy pulled another frame-grab of the Bifrost footage from the printer and hung it on the wall.

Something in the image caught her eye and she called out to the others. “Hey, check it out.”

The other three stepped forward and examined the photo, amazed. Inside the Bifrost funnel cloud was a figure – the vague but unmistakeable shape of a man.

“Is that…?” Selvig muttered, lost for words.

“I think I left something at the hospital,” Jane spoke before hurrying off.

Trading wonderstruck glances and shrugs, Darcy and Selvig rushed after her. Aaron was about to do the same, but you reached out to grab his arm before he could move.

“Aaron… I can’t go back there.”

“I know,” he breathed, looking at you worrisomely, “Are you going to be okay staying here by yourself?”

“No,” you shook your head and looked around the lab, eyes lingering on the heaps of research all over the place, “I can’t stay here, either. Not with them delving into all of this. I can’t see that ending well for me.”

“Well, then, if you’re not going to stay here…” Aaron looked out at the desert with a hopeless gaze, “where are you going to go?”

 ✧ ✧ ✧

 S.H.I.E.L.D HQ. Washington, D.C.

“Just when I thought we were done with all this shit,” Fury exhaled, wheeling his chair forward and folding his arms on his desk.

“Tell me about it,” you grumbled, playing with the hem of your t-shirt as you lounged lazily on the couch.

“And you’re positive that it’s the real deal?” your godfather questioned with a sceptic raise of his brow; he needed full reassurance that it was necessary for S.H.I.E.L.D to step in. You slowly raised your head to lock eye contact with him.

“He called me Skadi.”

The Director straightened up and opened his mouth, about to say something when the sound of Agent Coulson’s voice through the speakers stopped him from doing so.

“Sir, we have reports of a possible UFO crash-landing in the New Mexico Desert. Apparently it had a blue, luminous glow and is… really, really heavy.”

Fury looked at you and you smiled condescendingly.

“That good enough for ya?”

 ✧ ✧ ✧

 County hospital. New Mexico Desert.

The group of Aaron, Erik, Darcy and Jane entered the hospital, and Jane wasted no time in striding over to the admissions nurse to try and gain entry into Thor’s room, while the other three hovered in the waiting area.

An unusually fidgety Aaron glanced around uneasily, his mind churning with possible outcomes of this precarious situation. He fully understood your apprehensive view on the matter, but his gut was telling him that the sudden appearance of the God of Thunder meant that something much bigger was awry, and that distancing yourself from the only source of knowledge on the subject that you had (in other words, Thor) would only bring trouble.

With that being said, the doctor turned to Darcy and Selvig and announced that he would be going to the bathroom and once he rounded the corner, made a beeline for Thor’s room.

Dodging the heaps of hospital staff, Aaron barged into the god’s room just as he awoke, and took tentative steps forward.

Thor noticed the restraints on his wrists and pulled at them, trying to free himself, but to no avail.

“It’s not possible,” he muttered, mustering all of his strength and trying again. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Aaron, and he immediately perked up to attention.

“You!” Thor’s voice boomed through the tiny room; Aaron winced at the volume, “You accompanied Skadi, the daughter of Vili! Who are you? And where is she?”

Holding his hands up to show that he came in peace, Aaron took slow yet urgent steps forward until he was next to Thor’s hospital bed. “My name is Aaron.”

“Aaron,” Thor repeated, frowning at the strange name, “Son of whom?”

“Uh,” Aaron awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “Jacob… Ross.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Aaron Jacobson. Now, if you will, tell me where I can find Skadi. I imagine she is the only one who can help me.”

Frowning in puzzlement at the last name Thor had chosen to adorn him with, Aaron opened his mouth to explain that that was not the way things worked down here, but soon decided against it – it was no use to confuse the Asgardian any more than he already was – and shook his head as he moved to untie the restraints.

“Believe me, the pleasure is all mine. But please, you need to listen carefully,” Aaron spoke, glancing over his shoulder every couple seconds to make sure that his new colleagues weren’t anywhere in sight, “I can’t tell you where Skadi is. I promise I will explain everything, but we need to get out of here now.”

~

Doing up the final button on the scrubs he had stolen from the hospital, Thor spoke to Aaron as the two of them walked through the parking lot.

“You mean to tell me that she wishes not to see me? I do not understand. I have done her no harm, only looked over her. As has my father, and most of Asgard. We are family.”

“Yeah,” Aaron sucked on his teeth and stuffed his hands in his suit pockets. “That’s kind of a, uh, touchy subject. I’m… sure you heard about what happened to her parents.”

“Yes,” Thor nodded before looking down at the ground, a solemn expression on his face. When he spoke again, his voice was heavy with sadness. “That was a dark day on Asgard.”

There was silence for a moment before Aaron spoke again. “Listen, for what it’s worth… I’m sure she wants to meet you. It’s just not safe for her to do so just yet.”

“She is in danger?” Thor questioned in concern.

“Not currently, no. But very few people are aware that she’s… you know, a goddess… and if it suddenly became public knowledge-“

“Everyone would fear her.”

“Exactly,” Aaron nodded fervently, thrilled that Thor was understanding, “And that’s not what she wants. She helps people down here. Saves them. Having them fear her would tear her apart.”

“So for her sake, please, if there are other people around,” Aaron continued, glancing at Thor imploringly, “Pretend that you don’t know her. She’s just (Y/N).”

“As challenging as it may be, I shall oblige. For her sake.”

Aaron heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

They continued walking as Thor observed his newfound acquaintance, mentally theorising about him.

“You seem to be rather close to her,” Thor noted, “Is she your betrothed?”

Aaron almost choked on the air in his throat. “N-no,” he spluttered, “No. She’s just… we’re good friends.”

“But you care deeply for her.”

“Well, yeah, but- oh shit!”

Aaron quickly ducked out of the way but unfortunately, Thor hadn’t been paying close enough attention to do the same. And so, bam! Jane’s SUV collided with his sturdy frame, knocking him to the ground.

With gasps, Jane and Selvig emerged from the SUV to help the god to his feet.

“I’m so sorry,” Jane apologised, “I swear I’m not doing that on purpose.”

Staying true to his word that he would pretend as if he was unaware of everything, Thor gazed up at the sky.

“Blue sky… one sun… This is Earth, isn’t it?”

“I think you may have hit him with the car one time too many,” Darcy piped up.

Jane shook her head and began leading Thor to the car. “Let’s get you some clothes.”

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

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