#it would be absurdly easy and effective

[wish-upon-the-universe]

Hc that islanders are particularly susceptible to body craft

I mean. Looks at the king. Looks at act 5 sif. Looks au euphrasie. Looks at the person who wished for someone to understand them.

Something about the universe being big and following as it molds you

[queers-gambit]

My Date With the President's Daughter

part one: Blue Bunny

prompt: your father finds out about Tangerine in the worst way during a charity gala before marauders try to rob it.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 6.3k+

note: a little Disney Channel throwback in the title anyone?

warnings: use of Irish names that DO NOT dictate race, more Mafia antics, short smut / interrupted smut (you'll see), NSFW i think, mature content, cursing, chaos and violence, weapons: guns and knives, blood. dead bodies, reader's a Daddy's Girl, abrupt ending, slight angst, more hurt and comfort i guess, author still has no idea what this plot is - revoke her internet access.

The theme of the gala that night was inspired by the Palace of Versailles; regal, royal, glittering and so very, very gold. It was held at one of the most expensive hotels in the city, the entire building rented out in preparation with three different caterers and expensive bottles of alcohol being served. The gala was THE place to be - most people vying for an invitation, everyone who was anyone in attendance; dripping in designer clothes, shoes, and jewelry that sparkled in candlelight.

Every single year for the past 25 years, your legendary father hosted a large charity event that your mother was project manager of - meaning she chose the themes, decor, and the invite list. Only elite persons (both in the public and private eye) with deep pockets were invited, knowing they'd cut a large check if they wanted your father to stay out of their business territories. So, in honor of the richer-than-rich attendees, your mother used grand and golden decorations; creating a tastefully regal atmosphere for those who didn't actually have a drop of royal blood in their veins.

You father, Fallon, meaning "leader" in the ancient Celtic language, looked as handsome and dapper as ever; his tux dry cleaned, steamed, ironed, and tailored, paired with clean and shining dress shoes that had a bright red sole. His hair was slicked back, tattoos on his neck visible from the swept-back style.

Your mother, Maeve, whose name meant "she who rules", looked like she had just walked off a runway. Her dress hugged her slender and impressive figure, the material shimmering under the soft lighting. Her heels were high, hair pinned off her neck to show off bright diamond earrings that matched the thin chain of glittering gems around her collarbones, the sparkling tennis bracelet, and the absurdly large wedding ring on her finger. Her face was lightly painted with make-up, always a woman who didn't need much - if any at all. You prayed to age as gracefully as she.

Your brother, Oisín - pronounced [Oh - Sheen] - meant "little deer"; a cheeky but shy lad at the ripe age of 10. He wore a matching tux as your father, and had an emerald broach pinned on his lapel to indicate he belonged to your family. His au pair was supposed to be watching him so you could mingle with donors, but Oisín didn't stray from your side; a wee hand holding the material of your expensive dress on your hip to keep himself from getting lost.

The gala was crowded. Large event room stifling, requiring the air be turned on. Perfume assaulting the senses in a clash of scents.

The trademark "cha-ching" sound effect echoed in your mind as you shmoozed a few guests into their donations; impressing your brother by how easy you made it look. You thanked each donor with a pretty smile and fluttering lashes, floating around the room to meet other investors; giving them your family's charity's mission statement and explained where their money would go. Most of the people in this room were seedy criminals - similar to your father - and the other few were corrupt politicians who were nestled in the criminal's pockets.

By no means was the night boring, but this was work for you; all business, no pleasure.

The decor your mother chose had a lot of glittering gold details; a few imported busts and statues, an entire wall full of sculpted grass to mimic the Palace's own garden designs; artwork hung in thick, intricate frames, bright crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The event hall was specifically chosen for the floor-to-ceiling windows, sculpted shrubbery planted around the room; banquet tables covered in white cloth and chairs made of white plush - complimenting the detailed golden accents. It was gorgeous, you were impressed by your mother's attention to detail.

You wore a dress made of fine silk, the pretty green hue complimenting your skin tone; hair left down, pinned at the sides, showing off the dangling, expensive earrings your father gifted you on your 18th birthday. You, too, wore heels that forced you to walk taller and with calculated steps; rimmed eyes darting around to ensure there wasn't any shady business transpiring. But when surrounded by people who made their living by being sketchy, it was hard to clock each and every movement; being why your father had hired a very specific (and loyal) security service.

With several checks in hand, you visited your father's banker, a mute man named Bradley, and handed them over for safe keeping; your brother able to practice his sign language. Bradley was happy to reply, your entire family versed in multiple languages, and showed the young lad his process of collecting and documenting the donations. After tallying your new checks to the grand total, he used British Sign Language to inform you and Oisín of the updated tally generated so far.

"Why does Daddy need to do this?" The young lad asked, holding your hand tightly; not being a fan of social interactions - especially to this magnitude.

"To keep business moving squeaky clean," you answered softly, smiling at a few who passed you. "Money makes the world go 'round, don't it?"

He sighed, "Do we know all these people?"

"We do, they're Daddy's associates," you nodded, "and you best believe, they all know us. See, one day, you'll learn their names and what businesses they provide, how Daddy keeps them all employed."

Oisín looked uncomfortable, wondering, "Are they dangerous? Like the guys that came for Christmas?"

You came to a halt around the edge of the room, caressing his head while being careful not to muse his hair out of place. "They're all dangerous, in their own way, yes, lovie. But," you lowered into a squat so you could look your brother in his eyes, "you'll learn, Daddy's much more dangerous. So, we host events like this t'keep everyone happy and in line, you see? It's a power play."

He nodded, glancing around the room of adults. "Do I have to stay the whole time, though? Mommy said I could invite Darrel and Kevin - they're over there," he pointed towards one of the round tables, two of his classmates laughing with their mothers standing off to the side. "And I'm hungry!"

"Oh, you're a hungry lad, is it?" You smiled, watching his head bob. "Well then, in that case, we should feed you, huh? C'mon," you straightened and offered your hand, which he took gratefully. "We'll get yah fed, sweetums, and you can hang with your friends, yeah?"

"Daddy won't be mad?"

"No, I'll tell him you did really well tonight, helping me collect donations," you winked, leading him to one of the catering tables. You made up his plate with different options, carrying it to the table his friends, Darrel and Kevin, were sat at.

The boys - who looked adorably dapper in suits and bowties - greeted your brother happily; letting you set his plate down and greet the mothers kindly to thank them for their attendance that night.

"Oh, Miss!" Your brother's au pair, Lisa, hustled up to you, "I'm so sorry, I lost track - "

"No, no, 's fine, you're all right, deep breath, love," you assured, squeezing her upper arm. "Having a good night so far?"

"Oh, it's magical, Miss, innit?" She beamed, looking around in wonder. "Never been before despite working for your family all these years, I'm grateful for your mother's invitation tonight."

"Oh, we're very happy to host yah, sweetheart," you smiled. "But, uh, you mind keepin' an eye on Oisín for me? I've gotta work a bit more. He just wants t'hang with his friends, think he's a bit tired."

"Of course," she rushed.

"I'd wager you can take him t'bed after Daddy's speech, hmm? I know he'll want Oisín here for that, at the very least."

Lisa agreed, mingling with the other mothers as you pecked Oisín's head and told him to behave, that you were gonna go back to working the gala; which he at least acknowledged before being sucked back into a card game with Darrel. You didn't mind the blow off, liking the idea that he had as normal of a life as possible - a farfetched idea considering your father ran the bloody Irish Mafia and all. He's attended three different schools since he started his educational career, so you were content to leave him with his friends; letting boys be boys.

After making another deposit to Bradley, you visited one of the modern and unique glass bars (one of three stations) while feeling somewhat dejected by the night's missing guest. But speak (or think) of the Devil and He shall appear.

"You weren't kiddin' when you said your family goes all out for events like this. Jesus fuckin' Christ," a familiar, accented voice crooned; a body saddling up to the bar beside you. You first saw his hands clasped together on the bar, recognizing the golden rings and single bracelet, smirking as your eyes lifted to meet that of Aaron - or Tangerine.

"You're late," you mused, locking eyes with the bartender and holding up two fingers; indicating you now wanted two of the drinks you ordered, him nodding.

"Sorry 'bout that, love, yeah, no, Lem and I got caught up in somethin', had ta deal, then get cleaned up for yah. Figured you wouldn't want us walkin' in here with blood on us."

"You'd be right," you hummed, red painted lips stretching in amusement as you both casually leaned on the glass bartop with your forearms. "Doesn't matter, you're here now - thank God."

"That bad, huh?"

"Not like previous years," you admitted, sending a glance over your shoulder at the group of milling socialites. "Since Daddy inducted The Agency, some traction's picked up believe it or not. Seems like a lot of people like the idea of contract killers for hire and investing in the Black Market. Seems like you lot really up the ante, don't'cha?"

"Ah," he smirked, "you're welcome, then. Happy t'be of service."

"I'll only thank you when you make a donation to the cause."

"Yeah?" He smirked. "Well, you got anywhere private for me to write a check, then, love? Can't have anyone knowin' I'm charitable, got a reputation to uphold, know what I mean?" Then he leaned in real close, lips ghosted against your ear and making a shiver shoot down your spine, "C'mon, doll, 's been 3 weeks since I've seen yah."

"I know," you sighed, "but we've been busy tonight. Plus, Daddy would kill you - like, actually kill you - 'cause he's listed you specifically for me to stay away from."

"And yet, here you are, naughty girl, huh? Disobeying orders?" He smirked and put a space between you for the sake of appearances, two glasses of whiskey set before you. "Your Daddy's been preoccupied all night, love - don't think he'd even notice if we pop out for a bit. 'Fraid to admit but if I don't get you alone soon, I might actually lose my shit, darlin', honestly."

"Aaron, sweetheart, my family is hosting this event and we're responsible for collections," you deadpanned, but smirked, "'s a bit inappropriate to abandon such an important night by sneaking off."

"Can't tell me you're not tempted."

Now, you full-on grinned, "I didn't wear panties for a reason."

"You fuckin' tease," he growled over the rim of the crystal glass. When he tasted the whiskey, he hummed in shock, looking at the amber liquid, "Fuck me, that's nice."

"My family may or may not own several distilleries. You're drinking an exquisite, 15-year ol' whiskey, love." You took your own sip, casting another look around the room, finding your brother first, still with his friends before locating your parents. They were pleasantly distracted by an ambassador, making you grin at Tangerine, "C'mon."

"Hey?" He wondered, quickly setting his half-drank glass down as you snatched his free hand to quickly lead him away. He smirked and casted a look over his shoulder, instantly meeting Lemon's eyes - finding him laughing at the pair of you, toasting his drink at his brother in impression as if he knew what you two were up to.

Thanks to Thomas the Tank Engine, Lemon definitely knew what you two were doing - being excellent at reading people.

You lead your lover out of the event hall, checking up and down the empty hall and missing the way one of the security guards clocked your escape. You lead Tangerine into the large, private, unisex bathroom; shoving him against the closed door and instantly latching onto him in a deep kiss.

He was fully prepared, catching your hips; hissing a breath in through his nose, releasing a gentle moan out of sheer relief. When you pulled back, he grinned, "Got no idea how much I fuckin' missed yah, darlin'."

"Missed you more," you whispered in a rush, arms wrapping around his neck as he simultaneously began backing you up. It was a hungry kiss; heated, passionate, teeth clanking from impact, both attempting to make up for lost time. Ever in-sync, both your mouths opened to push your tongues against one another; exchanging saliva and the taste of expensive whiskey.

"C'mere," he panted after having backed you into the sink counter, seizing hold of your silken hips and hoisting you upwards. Your mouths were never far apart, joining together once more now that you were sat at a vantage point. Your hands shoved his navy blue suit jacket from his shoulders, it being set aside to the other end of the counter while you worked on his belt. "Never goin' this long again," he mumbled into your kiss, pushing the material of your dress up to let your legs spread wider in accommodation. Your lover rushed, "Jesus, fuck, feels like forever, don't it?"

You nodded as his hands pushed under the bunched material to grip the plush meat of your thighs; giving a gentle massage before sliding them higher until he met your bare hips. The cold counter bit into your exposed flesh.

"Oh, fuck me, you really didn't wear panties?" He groaned, glancing down as he lifted silk from your lap to catch a glimpse of your bare cunt - ready to greet him.

"Had a feelin' you'd show up, you just can't stay away, can yah?" You smirked, cheekily licking his lips as his belt clattered open. "Thought you'd might appreciate it," your chuckle was swallowed by his moan as the zipper of his trousers sounded almost shrilly to your over heightened senses. "Just need you close, so fuckin' close, please, missed you, baby - "

"No idea how much I've missed you, love, fuckin' hell," he rushed, reaching into his briefs the moment you had loosened the waistband of his tailored trousers to take hold of his cock. "This ain't gonna be nice an' easy, love, yeah? All right?" He checked, feeling you slide to the edge of the counter.

"Didn't think anything else," you grinned, gasping lightly when the head of his cock swept up and down your slit. "Plenty of time for that later, just need you fuckin' close - closer than close."

"Feel how fuckin' wet you are already? Goddamnit - "

"All for you, baby, c'mon, don't tease - "

In a single motion, Tangerine sheathed himself in your warmth, grinning in mischief, "Huh? Sayin' somethin', weren't yah, doll? Go 'head, finish your sentence, 'M listening."

You only chuckled, hands holding his neck and bicep in vice grips to keep yourself anchored as close as possible to him. "Three weeks without yah, and you wanna provoke me?" You whispered, feeling him begin to thrust in agonizing movements.

"Wouldn't be me if I didn't, huh?"

You chuckled breathlessly - gasping when, suddenly, the bathroom door burst open. You were facing that way, looking up from Tangerine's shoulder, only to discover your worst fear. "Holy shit! Daddy!?" You squeaked, Tangerine jolting and cursing in a hushed tone as he instantly yanked out of your wet warmth.

"Oh, you betta be fuckin' kiddin' me," your father seethed. "The fuck is goin' on here!? What the fuck are you goin'!? Who the fuck is that - is-is-is that who I think it is?" He growled, your lover fumbling to tuck himself away and pull his trousers back together - not moving from between your legs in an effort to preserve your modesty. But he had turned slightly to give your father a glimpse of his face, making your Daddy snarl, "Oh, bloody fuckin' hell! You serious? Fuckin' Tangerine, is it? You lost your mind, girl!?"

"Daddy, please," you warbled nervously, tears of anxiety gathering.

"Get the fuck out here - now! Boff of yah's!" He commanded in a roar, stepping out of the doorway.

"Oh, holy fuck," Aaron breathed, latching his belt and looking at you with wide eyes. "Well, was nice while this lasted, huh? Gonna miss yah, pretty girl - "

"The fuck are you - "

"He's gonna fuckin' kill me, sugar," Tangerine frowned, your dress falling gracefully into place when you slid off the counter. "Your father's gonna fuckin' kill me, Goddamnit," he pulled his suit jacket back on. "Think I can make it out that window?"

"He already knows it's you, runnin' now won't help," you sniffled, shaking your head and moving for the still-opened door. "You didn't think to fucking lock the door? Jesus fuck, Aaron..."

He followed after you, meeting your father in the empty hallway outside where the gala was in full-swing. He looked enraged, jaw clenched and wide eyes ablaze, looking the both of you over in disgust. "You out of your bloody mind you stupid girl? Huh?" He demanded, "I told you - very clearly - you weren't to fuckin' see him again."

"Daddy - "

"And this is how I find out? Huh? That my daughter doesn't respect my authority or listen to my words? How the fuck do you think people would react to that? They see you disobeying and get the idea to do the same."

"I'm not yours to command - "

"You're my daughter!" Fallon barked in anger, "My only fuckin' daughter, which means, you are, indeed, mine to command - just like everyone else in this fucking organization! You understand? My word is law - "

"This isn't just some petty fling, Daddy, that I'm engaged in to pass the time! I'm in love with him!" You blurted out, eyes widening when you heard your own words and watched your father's face fall.

"Beg your pardon?" He seethed slowly. "Have you gone mental? Finally fuckin' lost it? Huh? You must be outta your Goddamn mind if you think you love this silly fuck! He doesn't love you back, Y/N, you're just a coveted prize because you're my daughter - it's a thrill to men like him! Women like you, you're just trophies! There's no authenticity - "

"With all due respect," Tangerine interrupted boldly with anger lacing his words, "but you've got it all wrong, sir. Your daughter is the most important person t'me - outside my bruva, of course. She's not a trophy to collect, she's not a dainty object for me to store onna shelf - she's not a notch on my belt. But you're right about one thing," his arm extended around your waist, "she is the most coveted prize - but that's because of who she is, not who her father is. She's my prize, yeah, because she's the end goal men search their whole lives for and for whatever reason, she fuckin' chose me. I consider it the greatest honor - "

"You got some fuckin' nerve, don't'cha?" Your father growled. "You know what, lad? Since it's evident my daughter doesn't take me seriously, maybe you'll be smart enough to heed my warning. You leave her the fuck alone or - "

"I can't do that, sir," Tan refused, "'cause like it or not, I'm mad for her. Absolutely stupid for her. I love your daughter past words, don't even think I've ever loved someone 'cause bein' with her feels so fuckin' different in comparison.

"That so?"

Tangerine nodded, other hand shoving into his pocket to toy with the cool metal of golden brass knuckles. "There's nobody in this world like your daughter, sir. Bein' in love with her is like euphoria, yeah? Makes me think back and realize how wrong I was about my feelings for anyone else 'cause of how I feel for her. I say there ain't no way I've ever loved anyone else 'cause I've never felt this way before - I've only felt this type of love with your daughter. Yeah? She's fuckin' everything to me, so, with respect, I can't stay away. I won't."

"Yeah? Yeah? Fuckin' fine. All right, sure, let's see if The Agency has anythin' t'say about this, huh? When I pull the plug on this deal, I'll be sure to tell your employers why and let them deal with you for ruining this business partnership."

"Daddy," you gasped, rushing when he turned for the event hall's doors, Aaron following swiftly. You caught the metal doors when your father yanked them open and strode into the room, doing your best to catch him before he did anything too rash. "Wait, wait, Daddy, please, just listen, listen to me - I didn't mean for this to happen!"

"Didn't mean for what? Me findin' yah fuckin' in the bathroom like a desperate whore?" He snarled over his shoulder, the thick crowd slowing him.

"Well, yes, but I also didn't mean to fall in love with him! All right? But you know better than all of us that it's not a choice, it just happens! Look at you and Mum - "

He rounded on you, Tan at your flank, opening his mouth to scold you when something caught his eye behind you. You didn't have time to question him as rapid shots filled the air, a telltale sign of an automatic gun being fired in the crowded room. You flinched slightly, Tangerine instantly grabbing your waist to cover your body with his; turning to locate the threat, only to discover a gaggle of men in all black wearing ski masks and duffel bags on their shoulders.

"Friends of yours?" Tan snipped at your father, keeping you low as the crowd shrieked in panic - all trying to escape, still being shot at. This caused the seedy individuals with guns to take a stand and shoot back at the intruders, creating mass confusion and limited advantages.

"Bruv!"

"Brian," Aaron panted, people bumping into one another as they panicked in a flood of bodies. He looked down at you and then to your father, Fallon, only to find blood blooming under his white button up. "Oh, fuck," his eyes widened, gunshots still sounding, "right, we gotta move - can deal with everything else later. Here, here, here," Tangerine plucked a cloth napkin from a nearby table and shoved it over your father's wound to help staunch the bleeding.

"They got the doors, mate," Lemon shook his head when you noticed your father's wound. Luckily, it didn't appear to be in a fatal location, his hand holding pressure as the security detail were being gunned down. "The fuck do we do now?" Lemon asked over shrill shrieks.

"What we do best," Tangerine answered, pushing your father into action and brandishing his gun. "Stay close - "

"I'm not leaving without my wife and son!" Your father growled.

"Lem!"

"On it," he agreed, disappearing into the swarm of people.

Your lover kept you close, shoving through the crowd to lead towards a set of heavy metal doors. Several men stepped in your way, Tan sneering, "Right, fuck this." He opened fire.

You squeaked in shock when a different body tackled Aaron from the side to knock him out of sight, your father keeping a hold on you as straggling bodies dropped around you. "There he is!" You heard over the confusion, locating a set of men surging towards you.

There was nowhere to go, leaving you to physically block your father in a bid to protect him - not needing to when Tangerine intercepted the two threats. He didn't have his gun anymore, lost in a stampede of feet on bloody marble floors, opting to use his fists and brute strength against the robbers. The brass knuckles helped.

You had to admit, it was the perfect night to attack considering how much money Bradley was keeping track of. Plus the fact that everyone's guard was down made tonight the perfect opportunity for marauders to act against your family.

However, in a sea of confusion, you were separated from your father's side; losing him amongst the people and feeling a tight hand seize your upper arm. "I got the daughter!" The man in a ski mask informed through the visible comms system. "Moving for the south wing, bring the van around t'the alley."

"Aaron!" You begged, trying to wrangle free but discovering your strength was nothing compared to the 6'3'' goon's. "Aaron! Aaron, please! Help!"

"Shut the fuck up," the man snapped, backhanding you and never releasing his grip. A single trickle of blood oozed from one nostril as the man's ring split your bottom lip. "Fuckin' move!" He barked at you in a thick accent, "Move, bitch, let's go!"

"What do you want!? Please, just - just tell me! I can give you whatever it is - please! Fucking let go!"

Another enemy joined you, sneering, "Oi! The fuck you doin'? Don't damage the goods, fuckin' idiot, we gotta keep her in decent shape for the ransom! Fallon ain't payin' if his daughter's been assaulted - "

But a gunshot boomed and the other man's body jolted before falling flat on his back - dead with a hole in his forehead. You tried to capitalize on your captor's shock, unsuccessful, feeling blood splatter on your back from a different fallen body. You saw your father under the wing of his security, his own gun being used in defense, begging, "Daddy! Daddy, help!"

The one night you don't ensure your thigh holster's filled, of course this happens!

Fallon was only able to watch as Tangerine fought his way up to you struggling in the bulky man's grip; impressed when one contract killer engaged another. "Oi!" Tan barked, "Hands off my girl, yah fuckin' lunatic!" He threw several punches, the goon forced to release you to defend himself. Fallon watched as Tangerine waited until you were freed and a step to the side before opening fire again - killing the man who dared touch you. He realized that Tangerine had waited until you were clear to take the shot - feeling impression plant in his gut. Yet there was no time to dwell as intruders circled him.

"Oh, my God!" You whimpered, bodies left in growing pools of blood; your dress dragging in the tacky substance to paint abstract swirls on the shining floor; trying to avoid being swept up in the streams of panicking people. Your name was barked, another hand grabbing you, but this time, it was Lemon - sprayed in enemy blood.

"C'mon, doll, I got'cha!" He promised, being engaged by another robber. You sobbed in shock when an arm caught you in a headlock and forcefully drug you backwards; heeled feet scrambling in an attempt to keep up and avoid falling over.

"Lemon! Please! Fuck's sake!"

Breathing was hard to do in a headlock, dancing black spots blurring your vision slowly and your heart hammering in fear. A machine gun sounded again. The bicep tightened, dramatically limiting air.

"Fuckin' get off her, arsehole!" Recognizing Aaron's voice was a sheer relief, gasping for air when the arm constricted around your neck released suddenly. However, the momentum made you stumble to the ground at the same time for the goon's dead body to drop right next to you. His wide, dead eyes stared unseeingly at you, forcing a shiver down your spine and for your stomach to knot.

"Jesus Christ, oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God," you panted, scrambling when blood spread closer.

"C'mon, love, c'mere, c'mere," Tangerine grunted, hauling you to your feet and protectively keeping you to his side. Being in front of you now, you could note the blood on his button up, how the robber's own punches had bruised and bloodied his face; figuring you looked somewhat similar. "Right, listen please, need yah t'do somethin' for me, love," he kept a sharp eye out for other threats as he tugged up one of his trouser legs. He pulled out the gun strapped in the holster, handing it to you with the instruction, "Shoot first, answers later. Yeah? Hey?"

You nodded and accepted the weapon, unlocking the safety. "I have to find Mum and Oisín," you worried, men and women screaming as the brutal fight continued.

"Just stay close, love, 's fuckin' madhouse - FUCK!" He snapped, aiming and firing at a man racing for you two. "C'mon, we gotta move, gotta get you out of here - right to the fuck now - "

Your gun sounded, Tangerine watching another robber drop only feet away. He pushed you through the people, both with your heads on a swivel; working in tandem to clear the banquet hall of robbers and direct survivors to get out. Your curly-haired boyfriend held one of the robbers by the neck and repeatedly punching his face into a pulp after the other man had attempted to snatch you, too.

Nobody came remotely close to you again, not when Tangerine was on guard; protecting you, defending you, killing for you. The skin on his bare knuckles had split open, but Tangerine didn't even notice; he just moved on to the next threat.

Soon, the gunfire ceased, leaving a ringing in survivor's ears, and after a quick look around the room, Tangerine confirmed the threats were all eliminated - but so were several guests of the charity gala.

You gasped in guilt, hand slapping over your mouth when you nearly tripped over Lisa's body; bullet holes shredding her flesh.

"Bruv," Lemon panted, approaching the two of you and making Tan flinch. "Woah, hey, easy, 's just me," he held his hands up, your lover sighing in relief and keeping you sheltered behind him. "You two good?" Brian asked, sheen of sweat coating his skin.

"You hit, love? Hey?" Tangerine looked down at you, keeping one arm around you and his body at a protective angle. "Shit, your face - your fucking face, sweetheart, look at me, look at me, lemme see," he frowned, holstering his gun to take both your cheeks in his hands and look for other injury.

"I'm okay, promise I'm not hurt," you panted, hands trembling. "Are you two?"

"I'm good," he nodded, eyeing Lemon. "Yeah?"

"Good, yeah, I'm good," Brian confirmed, "but I got some bad news. Looks like they got the banker. I can't tell if they made off with the money or not."

"They couldn't've, we only accepted checks tonight," you explained. "No cash, no assets to steal."

"Take it that's not public knowledge," Lemon sighed. "Probably thought they could rob y'all blind in one move, thinkin' tonight would have cash donations."

You sniffled, "You seen my family?"

"Uh," Lemon looked around, nodding, "yeah, your dad's over there."

Peering around Tangerine's form, you located your father slowly stalking around the room; taking note of the dead bodies left behind, survivors clearing out into the hallways. Fallon made his way up to you three, your voice trembling, "Daddy? You all right? Where's Mum and Oisín?"

"They're safe, with the paramedics," he reported, instantly taking you in his embrace. "Ah, fuck, lost sight of yah in this mess, had me worried, girl."

"I'm sorry."

"Nah," he whispered, caressing the back of your head, "don't apologize, you ain't do nothin'." He took a breath, keeping you caressed to his shoulder, "Gotta admit, felt a helluva lot better knowin' your man had your six." You pulled back slowly, watching your father sigh and nod at the Twins, admitting, "Thank you for protectin' my daughter, don't know how t'repay yah."

"Wasn't nothin' to it, sir," Tangerine assured, adjusting his suit jacket, "just wanted to protect my woman."

"I saw," he nodded. "You boys okay?"

"Yes, sir," Lemon nodded, Tangerine doing the same.

"Very good... Then I think I owe you an apology," your father told Tan, shocking you - not knowing the last time you ever heard you father admit to an apology.

"Not necessary, sir, I understand," Tan deflected, skin glistening in a thin sheen of sweat, blood dabbed around from the robber's fists, "I'm just relieved your family's safe."

"No, listen, I was wrong," Fallon admitted, "sayin' all that shit to you - about you. You know, makin' my assumptions, goin' based on rumors. You've got a bit of a reputation, I was just tryna protect my daughter from gettin' her heart broke." He sighed, shaking his head, "Can protect her from damn near everything - except the complications of her own heart; the woes of a relationship."

"I understand, sir."

"But seein' you tonight, fightin' for her, fightin' to get back to her... I was wrong," Fallon sighed, offering his hand. When Tan shook it, your father offered, "For what it's worth, you've got my permission to... Continue whatever this is. Any lad willing t'put themselves in harms way for my girl is all right in my books."

"I appreciate that," Tangerine sniffled, meeting your eye and smirking slightly. "Your daughter means a lot t'me, swear I won't make yah regret givin' us your approval."

Fallon sighed, nodding, "Yeah, all right, good. 'Cause she's precious to me, you know? I'll fuckin' gut you if you hurt her."

"I believe it," Tan sighed, a single twinge of nervousness to his tone, "but you don't gotta worry, sir, right, 'cause last thing I want is t'hurt the woman I love. She's precious to me, too."

"Right, good, uh, well... Thank you, both, for helping tonight. Would've been a fuckin' bloodbath without yah."

You frowned, gazing around the marble floors, "Still a bloodbath, ain't it? Half our men are dead, several investors... Daddy, who the fuck were these men?"

"That's what I'm gonna find out," he growled, his surviving personnel taking note of the event-room-turned-battlefield, slowly starting to move bodies. Little known fact: the hotel had an industrial size furnace in the boiler room - somewhere your father could burn bodies without the police being tipped off.

"Th-They said something about a ransom," you told the trio in a trembling tone, "about ransoming me back to you, Daddy. Said you wouldn't pay if I was injured, so they shouldn't rough me up."

"Hey," Tan whispered, pulling you into his side securely, "don't gotta worry 'bout that - know there's nowhere for anyone to hide you that I wouldn't find."

Fallon actually liked that sentiment, watching you nod and for your lover to hold you securely and placing a kiss to your forehead. So, he asked, knowing the answer, "Can I trust you to take care of my daughter, lad?"

"Absolutely."

"Don't make me regret this."

"Not in this lifetime, sir."

"Good. I'll find you lot in the mornin', get gone."

After a brief reunion with your mother and brother, learning they were uninjured and safe, you boyfriend finally opened the door to the hotel room you two had been assigned. Lemon was right next door, and when you entered, your luggage was left on the bed for you both. It was quiet as you both cleaned up and prepared for bed; silent tears trickling down your cheeks, mind replaying the night's events over and over and over... Like a never ending nightmare.

In the shower, you sat on the floor with arms tight around your knees, Tangerine sitting with you as warm water cascaded; cocooning steam around you. Blood washed off in waves of pink, circling the drain; your boyfriend gently massaging your body with a washcloth, discovering a scattering of injury - some still open and weeping. He was forced to blink back tears when your neck revealed a significant bruise; considering it a reminder of his failure to protect you, not knowing you felt the direct opposite and knew, if he hadn't been there, things would've been much, much worse.

When you joined Aaron in bed, the silence continued. Your heads laid on plush, stark white pillows; on your sides to stare at one another with hands clasped together between you. No words were needed, no explanation or thanks necessary, neither feeling the need to speak on what happened that night. Tangerine let go of your one hand, slowly reaching out to caress your cheek and jaw, fingertip tracing soft lines; shuffling closer to rest his cut forehead on yours.

In the dark of the room, over the sounds of the humming air conditioner unit, Tangerine whispered, "I love you, doll."

"I love you, too, Aaron. Thank you for... You know, tonight... All you did."

"You being safe, in my arms, is enough thanks."

"I-I'm glad you were here."

He nodded in agreement, "So am I. Don't know what I'd of done if I wasn't - if I had t'hear about this later... If they had succeeded in snatching you. Might not have been able to forgive myself."

"Good thing we don't have to know." Your eyes danced between his, admitting, "I don't think I want t'go without you, love. I don't think I feel secure unless you're with me."

"Yeah?" He smirked slightly, "That your way of sayin' you wanna spend more time with me?"

"Might be my way of sayin' I wanna spend all my time with you," you whispered, tears glazing your eyes. "And Daddy approves, so we don't have to sneak around anymore, right?"

"Right, get yah all t'myself," Tan agreed softly. "We'll talk in the morning, sweetheart, yeah?" He stretched slightly to peck your lips, encouraging, "Get some rest, Bunny. 'S been a helluva night."

Tangerine made you feel safe, he protected you and killed for you - so while you were unsure how sleep would find you when your mind was plagued with replaying chaotic memories from that evening, you let yourself relax.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[felassan]

Mark Meer: "Dropped by the @/Modiphius booth at @/Gen_Con to check out their new @/masseffect board game! Thanks for having me, folks. 😎 #/GenCon2024 #/MassEffect" [source] Modiphius: "It was a pleasure having you stop by! So glad you liked the minis" [source] --- Calvin Wong Tze Loon, board game co-designer: "hi devon! hope we can meet one day, was lovely working on the game" [source] Devon Gardner, Consumer Products Licensing Manager at BioWare Edmonton: "I hope so too! Had so much fun working on the game, your knowledge and revence for the Mass Effect universe was/is inspiring. :) Surreal to see it all out there with people playing!" [source] Calvin: "listen how else are we to spread the gospel of calibrations" [source]

Some more from the upcoming Mass Effect board game, which had playable demos at Gen Con this weekend just past. :) the rest of this post is under a cut due to length.

The game will be $50 (they were aiming for $40 but didn't make it) and is co-op but also one player. the game contains 12 dice, 2 books, 5 character sheets, like 40 cards, 6 minis (for painting if you like), tokens and a rulebook. the game will also be available in Spanish. the game includes calibrations hh. they hope to release in "Novemberish"/Q4. it also sounds like they plan to create expansions for it!

it sounds like everyone who played the game at Gen Con during the demos loved it! co-designer of the board game Calvin Wong Tze Loon (who designed things such as abilities and lore for it) shared some insights about the creation of the game, and the feedback folks who played it at the con had, on Twitter:

"'even people who didn't play mass effect liked it' this makes me so happy because this was one of our target audiences. people who enjoy games but aren't necessarily fans of the series. aaaaaaaaaa" [source] "'solved many problems the genre typically struggles with' also really proud of this. as huge tactics nerds Eric and I are always trying to sand down issues that get between the player and the game. clunky line of sight. long set up. lots of admin and bookkeeping." [source] "'got to do [classic thing favorite character does] what more can you ask for' i put many, many, many hours into the character abilities. this was really hard. asymmetric but balanced. accurate to the video game but simple and intuitive. play well off each other, replayable..." [source] "'the mechanics and paragon/renegade represent mass effect so well' one of the biggest compliments i got is that everyone who's worked on this game whether at modi or bioware cannot wait to get their copies so they can keep playing it." [source] "there's a type of person who will see this box and go fuck yeah take my money, no questions asked but we still wanted them to feel like they got their moneys worth with it. we crammed this box about as full as we could but we worked super hard to make the experience easy and fun" [source] "we worked really hard to make the game as replayable and enjoyable as possible whether on playthrough 1 or 10. we know mass effect players love to replay the game over and over so we built that in from the start." [source] "when we started making the game out target was actually 40 dollars so it would be so absurdly cheap people would just impulse buy it but we didn't manage to get there" [source] "seriously i can't wait for people to play it" [source] "mordin was planned but we had to cut him because dev time was pretty short and also we ran out of space for his mini on 1 mould :(" [source] "god i spent SO many hours on the ability design but it's one of my favorite things to do so that's fine. i'm so glad it paid off. shepard's ability alone had like 20 versions" [source] "one of our goals for this game was to take the things we personally found were 'getting in the way' from tactics games and present solutions. 'find tile 13A'->map book. make campaigns short&replayable instead of 'see you in 6months for mission 2'. super long teaches." [source] "eric paid super extra attention to the graphics cause the game is pretty complex we wanted minimum friction in terms of ux" [source] Gavin Dady, Senior Project and Process Manager at Modiphius, also commented - "We also wanted to make not just a Mass Effect game, not just a good game, but a good Mass Effect game. Everybody involved said early on that it had to be an authentic Mass Effect experience and, gosh darn it, I think it is." [source] "We have review copies heading for the local relays in the next couple of weeks. Some are already in transit with Quarian fast couriers using hot-tuned drives." [source] "We've worked very hard to make sure it's not just a good game, or a Mass Effect game, but a good Mass Effect game. It's a franchise that is close to my heart too (I'm the project manager and visionary) so we spent a long time making sure we got it right." [source]

[other post sources: source, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen]

[solisvia]

Post-revival Nymph girl!

She doesn't look like this right away, but a few years down the line, after she's had a chance to heal.

Companion piece to this

I knew going in that I wanted the green and the absurdly long ponytail. The most important thing was to make it easy to move in - so the train is open and flowy, and the restrictive metal from the earlier design is removed. Her crown is largely unchanged, but the purple chains have been replaced with black pearls. There is no mask (or even the hint of one. Pretend there's a mask in the other design 😭) because she doesn't feel the need to hide her emotions or discard her own needs anymore.

The looser design shows how much freer and happier Daphne is. She's found a way to come to terms with what happened to her and she bears the scars proudly. I like double meanings, so the lack of a tight skirt means this is better suited for combat as well. I'd imagine Daphne to be very aware of the reality that there's nothing stopping further horrors from finding her and hers.

Originally I tried to make the whole thing a loose gown, but bearing in mind her character development, I thought pants would suit her better. It had the effect of making this look more like her Sirenix, which wasn't intentional, but I can call it a happy accident. It is still very much Nymphix though.

Since she's no longer burdened by the Dragon Flame, she instead wears her personal symbol of a teardrop. I think it suits her, not only because she has a water association, but also because she's gone through a massive tragedy. With the loss of the Flame, she instead uses the unique dream magic that earned her her Nymph status!

[yuriskies]

Fishing Yuri vs Reproductive Fascism

Issui Ogawa's Twinstar Cyclone Runaway novel series caught my attention the moment I learned about it. A gay marriage allegory in a weird sci-fi setting? Sign me right the fuck up. I've always found explicitly political sci-fi interesting, and well, Ogawa is not exactly a small name in Japanese sci-fi. However, a Japanese hard sci-fi novel is not going to have an easy time finding a good translation to English, much less a fanbase. So I was really excited to see that it was getting a manga adaptation, and from what it has adapted so far (~half of the first of three novels in an ongoing series), it's really living up to my feeling of hype.

There is a general setting summary after the break, and then a section where I talk a bit about the most recent chapter (8), and how it really makes a cogent argument extractive economic systems are reinforced by patriarchal norms.

The plot centers around Terra Intercontinental Endeavor, a woman who has inherited her family's fishing boat. The fishing boat requires two people to operate, a job which is performed by straight couples as a form of marriage contract. The use of married couples is understandable, given that the fishing boat transformable rocket plane that descends from orbit to operate in the skies of a gas giant, an operating environment which requires almost preternatural communication skills between the pilot and the person transforming the ship. The fish that swim around in the gas giant's skies are special: they're made of a kind of clay that can be molded by thought. The catch forms the backbone of the planetary economy; otherwise, the planetary system is so resource-starved that humanity cannot sustain itself without something to offer through galactic trade networks. Terra is highly gifted at producing complex transformations of the ship, but cannot communicate well with the male pilots she is interviewing for marriage. Part of this is because her way of describing things is a little kooky, but the majority is because the patriarchal culture she lives in has produced a lot of condescending, sexist guys who Obviously Know Better.

Fresh off a round of failed marriage interviews, Terra is desperate to find anyone who can pilot the boat. In steps a mysterious girl named Diode, who proves herself to be an exceptionally talented pilot whose skills mesh well with Terra's. So far, the story has alternated between Terra's experiences within the stifling cultural life of her home, and the moments of dizzying freedom and connection that Terra and Diode find when they're out fishing.

(Spoilers from here on out, so stop here if you would prefer to read more on your own. )

As far as the broader world of Twinstar Cyclone Runaway is concerned, the first seven manga chapters have largely focused on how badly Terra fits in with the surrounding culture. She has a reputation around the port, mostly as a person who creates absurdly complicated fishing gear and makes up weird stories. Her aunt and uncle both want to see her happily married so she can fulfill her dream of fishing, but tend to push their preferences onto her. She works as a video distributor in the clan's dilapidated cultural archives, and appears to be one of the few people interested in the world of her clan's space station. In part, this is due to the conservatism of the culture - most people are strictly utilitarian and seem happy to accept the world as it is. There's also sexism. Woo boy is there sexism.

The first few chapters alternate between life on the station, where Terra is exposed to a constant stream of sexism. The chapters dealing with station culture are almost an exercise in masochism, but provided the set dressing for a chapter which does a really decent job at describing the organizing thought processes behind anti-LGBTQ lawmaking. In it, Terra and Diode's activities have drawn the attention of the authorities, who are none too happy that they're fishing together (and effectively presenting themselves as common law wives in the process).

They're both summoned to the clan council, where the clan chief immediately begins lecturing Terra (and belittling her with backhanded complements) before ordering her to surrender her family's fishing boat to someone else. During his lecture, he highlights the 'freedom' enjoyed by their clan compared to the even more stifling culture of the clan Diode hails from. He attributes that freedom to the strong sense of "culture and tradition" of the clan, and the work of those with "superior bloodlines" who support and perpetuate it by passing that sense of identity on to the next generation while countering the clan's slowly shrinking population. Under this logic, allowing Terra to participate in a same-sex marriage is considered tantamount to enabling a cultural collapse.

It is, from just about any perspective, a fascist perspective on gender roles. Women are valued not for their ability to contribute to the culture but for their service as reproductive cogs in the economic machine. Culture and tradition are interpreted as something transmitted through blood, not community. Terra's work in maintaining the cultural archives are viewed as useless make-work, as to the leadership, a woman who does not reproduce is preventing the transmission of culture. The stability and economic productivity of the clan is the organizing principle of society, highlighted by the fact that the roles of clan chief (political leader) and head fisherman (economic leader) are held by the same person. In this framework, the backbone of society is understood to be its captains of industry, those working in economically-prestigious jobs, and their social role is to maintain the economic prestige and exclusivity of the fishing class.

The chapter ends with Diode (having initially been begrudgingly convinced to allow Terra to do the talking) exploding at how the clan chief has been talking down to the both of them. She points out the hollowness of the underlying rhetoric - although it portrays culture as something shaped by struggle and ability to assert one's will, it systematically denies most people from the attempt. While pointing this out, she also mocks the clan chief's skills, clearly relying on the offense to his masculinity to provide the opening for herself and Terra to prove themselves. While the gambit works, the clan chief is clearly setting the terms of a challenge to make them prove themselves exceptional, a task which carries a high likelihood of death.

By the way, the art does a lot of the heavy lifting here. Despite Ahiru Tanaka's slightly cartoony style, he is incredibly skilled at getting the point across through composition. Terra's workplace in the cultural archives is dingy, cramped, and literally disintegrating, and Tanaka's line work reflects this - dense, imprecise, and messy. It really sells the apparent lack of maintenance since the archives were constructed. By contrast, the clan council's chambers is airy, bright, and characterized by cleaner, more precise line work. The difference is night and day, and I think it really helps sell the Endeavor Clan's underlying thinking of exactly where "culture and tradition" are transmitted.

Anyway, I just had to gush a little bit about this chapter, in what is quickly becoming one of the manga releases I most anticipate reading every month.

[jacevelaryonswife]

How do they behave when they are drunk? | Modern Headcanons

∴pairing: Aegon Targaryen | Aemond Targaryen | Jacaerys Velaryon

∴warnings: alcohol consumption, don’t read if you’re underage or that it’s a sensitive topic for you.

who missed the modern headcanons? cause I do!

Unfortunately, alcohol entered Aegon's life early. He knew it wasn't healthy or correct, but fuck it, he loved it when everything got slow and funny.

He obviously started tasting his friends' cheap beer, then stealing some expensive bottles of Whisky from his father without him noticing.

Obviously he had no distinction as to what to drink and accepted from the most slutty beers to a good Jack Daniels.

He also imposed no limits on himself and his only mission was to escape from sobriety — and if you think there is a lack of filters on Aegon it’s because you have never seen him drunk, the man is totally chaotic.

He speaks loudly, touches people excessively, is mortally funny and absurdly honest. Aegon is a threshold between the joy of the party and the most annoying person possible and he loves how chaotic it can be.

You will definitely love being held and guided home by your friends and having this time of attention for yourself, in addition to encouraging them to drink as much as he does.

Aegon is the guy who would bet how much you can drink against him and never expect him to lose, the son of a bitch is an alcohol consumption machine.

He is extremely sly and in need of attention when he has a hangover, almost like a child begging for a lap.

Little Jace only started to consume alcohol after entering college. He was never much of a drinker, especially for witnessing certain situations that his family members caused under the alcoholic effect.

But things were happening and when he realized he had a glass of cheap beer in his hand and it was fucking disgusting, but he didn't give up, at least once he needed to feel what it was like to get really drunk and opted for stronger options.

Oh boy, he was never so happy until that moment.

Jace is very cheerful and smiling when alcohol takes effect, literally a golden retrivier distributing hugs and nods to anyone and he LOVES the feeling of drunkenness, he gets extremely light and relaxed.

Usually he tended to control himself to not get past the point, he didn't want to cause a scene or put himself at risk, but once specifically he didn't care about it and accepted all the shots his friends gave him...

It was complete chaos and he had to come back loaded after vomiting on the floor of the bar (and locking himself in the bathroom and hugging the owner of the establishment).

He promised himself that he wouldn’t exceed the limit again, mainly because of the annoying nausea and tiredness of the next day.

He would definitely be lying on the bed or on the couch all day until his energies came back.

Being a selective person in his tastes it’s quite easy to catalog what Aemond drinks routinely, such as wine, cognac and bourbon, especially a good wine to relax and I add sparkling wines in celebrations. Beer was never an option, he hated that shit.

Still, he didn’t use to go past the point and rarely tended to get drunk, especially in public or in front of his family, just taking advantage of the threshold between sobriety and the beginning of the alcoholic effect.

However, there were moments when he gave himself to alcohol and it’s varied forms, such as tequila shots and cheaper vodkas.

But perhaps to his discouragement, Aemond was a silent and almost grumpy drunk, even more brutally sincere than in his sober state and much more carefree about swearing. In fact, he is almost a machine for swearing when he is drunk, especially if provoked.

He is also more self-confident in exposing his achievements and intelligence, a little arrogant too and considerably more seductive than usual.

In addition, Aemond is zero willing to receive help when he hears that he is too drunk to go alone somewhere — when someone suggests guiding him out of the bar he simply ignores and ends up tipping on the door and stumbling on a chair, and he mortally hates that someone holds him as an incapable.

If you find him grumpy while he's drunk, don't want to see him with a hangover, I swear, he gets impossible.

———————————————

taglists

general: @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @kravitzwhore @partypoison00

aegon: @lovelykhaleesiii @f4ll-for-you

ewanverse: @aemonds-fire @partypoison00 @schniiipsel @fan-goddess

aemond: @aemondsblog

jace: @howyouloveyourdragon

[drgngutz]

Cybernetic Soulmate - V

BEN Drowned x Reader 

Soulmate AU – Implied Feminine Reader

Ben is gone; at least that’s what Jadusable might believe at first. 

Masterlist

Previous Part

Benjamin Lawman 

BEN Drowned

It was strange to finally be scrolling through my computer after being restricted for so long. When he had found his way outside of the cartridge and into my computer, BEN had always found some way to mess with it, screwing with my files, making me question reality with every loading screen or missing pixel. Even after I put him inside that cartridge again, it felt like there was something leftover; something that was still there, and I still couldn’t tell if what I was seeing online was real or fake. 

Without it, though, everything was absurdly fine. I felt okay. I no longer felt the constant watching as soon as I stepped into my room when I got home, nor did I hesitate like I used to when typing the password of my account to log in. Even looking at the 4chan post seemed so… normal. 

So why did it feel so wrong?

It didn’t make any sense. I had trapped him, I had given that girl the cartridge, and she would destroy it; he would be gone. For good. 

Looking through the comments and responses to my posts were helping me to enforce the idea that I was safe. I could easily responded to each comment now, perfectly ordinary, without any mishaps; I pushed the button and the thread was sent, without any altered words or blank messages. 

I felt relaxed for the first time in weeks. He was gone. He was actually gone.

MaskywasHere: I’m scared that we haven’t heard from you yet. You good bro?

gingersnaps-obsessed12: I’m too impatient for this crap. It’s like a masterpiece I can’t even- I must have more

DrgnGutz: Holy shit, dude. I mean, no way this is real, but it's a great story, really. 

KittyGirl<33: OMG! R u alive???!

Ifrit: I’d like to hear more from you via email, if you’re interested in sharing more of your story :)

I mostly responded to the concerned comments with simple, easy replies. Nothing too complex, most of them I just assured I was alright or that everything was fine before moving on to the next; I ignored the more inquisitive questions for my own sanity. The responses were never ending, a constant cycle of scrolling down further into the abyss of loading more comments; all of which I had never seen before, no thanks to BEN and meddling with my perception of the outside world. 

Everything was filled with his absence. Everything was all right again. 

That stupid fantasy was wiped away in an instant the moment I looked away from my computer for a second, before looking back and seeing a new window opened to cleverbot. I swear, I could feel a chill run up and down my spine as the room dropped a few degrees. 

Bursting from my seat, I rapidly move the mouse and hover over the bright red ‘X’ to close the damn thing, nerves lit up with alarm. 

“Fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I scream at the computer as the window refuses to close, slamming down on the left mouse button with my whole hand and sending it down to the floor with a clatter. 

“This isn’t happening.” I begged at the screen, shaking my head and backing away as if I had been burned. 

Oh, but it is.

Verging on hysteria, I lunged for the power button, landing harshly on my knees and nearly pushing it inside of the PC from the force. This was a dream, a nightmare. The after effects of what had happened to me, my brain was just tricking me right now. I would hit this button, and it would be over. Really over this time. 

I cried out in despair when the damn thing refused to turn off. 

“What the fuck… What the fuck do you want from me?!” Screaming at the bright pixels, I stood back up from the ground, fists clenched at my sides. 

Just to talk. 

“Leave me alone.” 

A little rude for a ‘welcome back,’ but, I suppose it can’t be helped.

“Go fuck yourself.” The longer it went on the more I began to realize this wasn’t in my head. I pinched, squeezed at my arms, the pain registering fully enough to know this wasn’t a nightmare. 

Ha. Do I disturb you that much?

“How did you get out?” I was yelling at the screen at this point, surprised my parents hadn’t walked in and asked what the hell I was doing up so late at night screaming so loud. 

Wouldn’t you like to know?

“Tell me. Tell me right now, or I swear…” 

You’ll what? Put me back? 

You can’t now. It’s too late. 

“Asshole. You’re a fucking asshole.” 

It’s amusing to watch your distress.

“You were supposed to be–” It dawned, right then and there. He was supposed to be gone, destroyed, for good. Something was wrong. Had she messaged me at all since yesterday?

I scrambled for my phone, scrolling through my emails and finding nothing; not since she first contacted me about the cartridge in the first place. 

“Where is she? Where’s (Y/n)?” 

Who?

“Don’t play coy with me, you little shit. What did you do to her?!” I was raging at this point, all forms of fear converting to defense in an effort to ward him off. It would never work, of course. I had tried it before. 

I’m not telling.

“Did you trick her, too? Trap her inside that fucking game, like you did to her brother, Matt?” 

You were so eager to get rid of me, you didn’t even think twice about what would happen if it was in someone else’s hands.

“I should’ve destroyed that cartridge myself.” I snarled at the screen, eyes scanning over his next reply as it scrolled onto the site. 

Yet you couldn’t. How funny.

“Shut up. You murderer, you killed her, just like you killed the rest.” 

Even if I did, that’s none of your concern, is it?

You should be more worried about yourself. 

“If she’s alive, I hope she comes to her senses and puts you back in that fucking game, just like I did.”

I told you, that can’t happen anymore. 

It’s too late. I’m free now. 

I am everywhere now. 

The screen explodes into a dialect of code bouncing off of other code, glitching and warping into itself as the machine whirs with an overload of power. In a last ditch effort, I try to draft a new email to her; maybe it’s not too late, maybe I can get to her in time before–

The draft closes itself, and my phone powers down. The dread swallows me up with hot and cold flashes as the small screen lights up with text. 

That won’t do you any good.

The entire house is painted black, the electricity shutting down and leaving me to bask in total desperation. 

[broomsticks]

I have a weird (and probably out of the blue) confession to make.

So last march you (and several others, I can't remember who originated it although I'd been following yours regularly) had been posting a 'mutuals march' rec of wonderful authors. I loved reading them and was overwhelmed by the love and joy spread around.

However by mid-March 23', I selfishly wanted someone to do the same for me, even though I'm a relatively small writer in terms of fics, and I tend to neglect interacting with people on here because of a busy real life. But the insecurity stayed and this year I decided to stay off tumblr this March.

I realise that praise is not necessary to acknowledge me as part of fandom, but it's nice to be seen, I guess. To connect.

That's all. I know you didn't do mutuals march this year - I'm curious about that. But also, how is it possible to .... brainwash mutuals into reccing me I mean, have that community and love? While leading a busy life (that allows me like 1 hr of tumblr/fic reading/fic writing per day, max). Or is it one or the other.

awww, thanks for the message anon <3 has it really been a year since i last did mutuals march?!! omg time flies. i'm now somewhere i would never have expected i'd be last year, so that's pretty cool. anyway -

yeah. unfortunately I have no easy advice for building connection in fandom for time-stretched people. it takes time to find and build the connection and, unless you get absurdly lucky, it really doesn't happen overnight!

(the good news is that if you do invest the time and energy and manage to build meaningful connections, they do tend to be pretty lasting, particularly in this sort of fandom space where inconsistent levels of activity are somewhat expected (the bad news though is that nothing lasts forever))

to be honest the best way I've found to 'get noticed'/make meaningful connections is to notice other people, seek out other people who want to connect.

was originally going to follow that up with "and do it on their terms" - but no, fandom is so big, and being the initiator, there's all the room for you to choose who you want to connect with, what you want to look for. gen family fic? underrated professors? dead dove fic? maybe something to consider next time you're in a bit of a writing lull: leave comments, write recs. it's obviously more effective with recent fics/authors who aren't already being drowned in comments/attention - which does mean effort required to seek out and find, especially to find ones that you -really- love - i can promise, though, that finding those fics and writing recs and comments gets easier with time.

it's definitely harder to initiate organic connections from the author side of things - because essentially you're searching for that unicorn active reader/commenter/reccer you have no time and energy to be, and persuading them that you are worth carving out that limited time and energy on. there are certainly different ways of playing it, but that marketing/numbers game really isn't for me - not something i want to bother giving even a second thought to - so. I'm prob not the best person to ask :c mutuals might have better suggestions? ❤️

[dragonflight203]

Mass Effect 1 replay, part 4 and conclusion of Noveria:

Benezia

-The dialogue with Benezia changes very little with Liara, which is disappointing. You’d think bringing her along would change more.

After saying her line Benezia just… ignores her and proceeds with the normal dialogue.

-Benezia says the rachni soldiers would be raised to hunt and slay Saren’s enemies. She doesn’t seem aware of the Reapers.

-What is even with Benezia during the initial combat? She strikes dramatic poses and then more commandos and geth enter the room. Somehow this depletes her power. How? Why?

-Just as with Shiala, Benezia credits her indoctrination to Sovereign but implies that Saren is controlling Sovereign. No inkling that Sovereign is alive.

-She does say that the geth did not build Sovereign! First time that is brought up.

-If you’ve done Feros, there’s an option to mention Shiala and that she told you about indoctrination. Nice touch.

-Benezia says she was aware of what the indoctrination was forcing her to do, but could not resist.

This is different from other cases, where it’s emphasized that indoctrination is often a gradual change the person is not aware of.

Could credit this to Benezia having locked part of herself away from the indoctrination – so it’s that small part of herself that watched on in horror.

-As others have mentioned, here a supernova merely relocated the Mu Relay. In ME2, an asteroid destroys the Alpha Relay.

Ah, plot holes, If you must make a series up as you go along, at least leave enough time to review each entry for consistency and perform rewrites if necessary.

-This entire scene establishes Benezia was subservient to Saren. She was just another servant to him.

Of course, in reality they were both servants of Sovereign, but of the two Saren called the shots.

Interesting dynamic. Presumably this is because Sovereign got his claws into Saren first, but I imagine that in-universe the expectation is that a matriarch is usually the dominant personality in such relationships.

-The fight with Benezia herself was absurdly easy. Bioware needed to do something to make it more impressive.

-As Benezia dies, if you go paragon you offer her medigel. She refuses – she’s still indoctrinated and can feel its grip on her. She chooses to die.

-If you go renegade, you say she keeps changing sides. Betrayed the Council, betrayed Saren. She says she guesses that’s how history will remember her.

Damn. She was indoctrinated, she didn’t choose to betray the Council. That was cold.

-Benezia’s actions here are important to laying the ground work for the ability to talk Saren into suicide in the finale, just like Fai Dan’s were on Feros.

Both struggle against the indoctrination, are able to resist just enough to perform one final action, and choose to die because they know they will not be able to keep resisting.

Once more: This is how you build to a satisfying conclusion. You have to sprinkle the seeds throughout the story and let them fruit. You can’t just throw out a bunch of elements in the last few minutes and expect it to form a cohesive narrative.

Rachni Queen

-And here we go again. Another mind controlled asari, being used to speak for an eldritch creature. Just like on Feros.

-The Rachni Queen even refers to her as a vessel, and says that she is weak to urging.

What the game tells me: The asari are the dominant race. They are wise and powerful, and often their actions are hard to understand because they take such a long view

What the game shows me: Asari are malleable, and if you put any near another creature with mind control powers they’ll fall under its sway quickly. They tend to follow the strongest personality in the room, and need others to save them from the situations they find themselves in.

The asari deserved better.

-When referring to the fact that a child locked in a closet till they come off age will not be sane, Liara picked the age 16.

Why 16? I thought Asari come of age around 50?

Probably just a case of having all characters say the same line or minor variants of it.

-The Rachni Queen uses plural throughout most of this conversation. Why?

Are they speaking for the Rachni race? Using plural because they’re royalty?

I get the impression they’re using we in the singular since, like Legion does.

They do use I once, when speaking of the rachni’s actions in the war. This rachni queen does not what happened in the war to cause the rachni’s actions.

-The Rachni Queen refers to their planet as “The Singing Planet”. Here, on Noveria, the sky is silent.

Hmm. Do all races from that planet “sing” the way the rachni do?

-There are parallels to the geth here. Both the Rachni Queen and Legion plead with Shepard for the future of their race. Shepard’s actions decide if their species lives or dies. If Shepard decides they die, the Rachni Queen\Legion reject Shepard’s choice and scramble to save their people anyway. They fail.

Well, it is an impactful story line. If future Mass Effect games choose to repeat it, however, I’d like to see a variant where the doomed species survives and the protagonist now has to deal with a species that hates them.

-The neutral choice is to let the Rachni Queen live

-Aaand the asari commando the Rachni Queen used to speak is just abandoned to die. Guys, we just established she’s not quite dead – can you at least check her pulse?

Noveria Wrap Up

-I only learned recently that the Hot Labs are optional. If you find Benezia first, you can go straight back to the Normandy.

Bit amusing… Sure, I could have killed all those Rachni soldiers with the neutron purge but I was tired so I called it day.

-You can’t go back to the civilian area. I’ve always wondered – do the guards kill all the civilians anyway?

I’d like to think they live, but there’s no proof one way or the other. Just an email from Han Olar, and he lives even if the guards do kill the civilians.

-Disappointingly, if you do the Hot Labs after Benezia there are minimal changes to the dialogue. This comes off as silly, as Shepard acts surprised about knowledge they already have.

-Hmm. In ME3, we learn that the Protheans bred the rachni. That may explain some of their traits, like how queens lay eggs in hours and can have a colony within days. Those would be useful traits in a weapon.

Normandy

-Once again, Ashley is nasty to Liara for no reason. Paraphrased:

Shepard: We need to learn more about Saren’s goals before going through the Mu Relay.

Liara: The commander is right. We cannot rush off blind. We need to learn more about Saren.

Ashley: Who put you in charge? Did the commander resign when I wasn’t looking?

Just, why? Liara was agreeing with me, not overruling me. There’s no reason for Ashley’s hostility.

-And if you go renegade, Shepard says they won’t be a puppet for the asari… Again, Liara was agreeing with Shepard. Where is this coming from?

-In the conversation with the Council, If Shepard goes neutral they say they only care about stopping Saren, not the rachni.

The Salaraian Councilor says the mission must come first, but that actions can have far reaching consequences.

This feels like Shepard living down to their expectations – of course humanity would so short sighted as to not realize that releasing the rachni could result in another war, and if so humanity will be endangered too. Essentially, showing that humans are too short sighted to trust with spectre powers.

-If you go paragon, at least you stand by the fact that you believe this rachni queen won’t start another war. That’s better than ignoring its possibility.

Squad

-Huh. There’s no way to end the Kaidan romance at this point. You’re locked in.

-Kaidan doesn’t know what Benezi was to Saren either. Second in command? Advisor?

-In all dialogue with Liara, she blames Sovereign for Benezia’s change, even though at this point the belief is that Saren is controlling Sovereign. Interesting.

-If you suggest she’d want revenge, she rejects that – there are already enough reasons to stop Saren.

She’s definitely the most paragon aligned character in the game.

-If you select the Investigate > Benezia dialogue, it’s updated to account for what we’ve learned about Benezia’s indoctrination. Nice touch.

[tossawary]

Seeing your post about Speedwagon, I saw you say "He's generally a liability once any fight starts." and no??? The anime cut out a lot of his and Jonathan's background and scenes from the manga, but even in the anime Speedwagon is shown fighting and actually killing zombies along with Jonathan and Zeppeli (and later on Dire, Straits and Tonpeti) using his sledgehammer and despite him not being able to use the ripple and this can be seen throughout the entirety of the Windknight's Lot arc. Speedwagon shows some self-deprecation at times especially when he's genuinely unable to help even more than he actually does due to him not being able to use the ripple (i.e. the part where Jonathan gets trapped inside Tarkus' chamber and the rest of the group can't get to him right away), but that doesn't mean Speedwagon is genuinely a liability nor that he doesn't fight at all or whatever, as some people wrongly assume. Part of what makes Speedwagon so effective as a support character is the fact that he can and does carry his own weight most of time, finding ways to compensate for his short-comings, and all without getting in the way. A lot of the details in Part 1 are implied, briefly mentioned, or we just get told about them, so it's easy to miss some, but it's all there.

Oh, I was talking mostly about the fights against Dio and those undead knights! I should have been more specific: he has very little to do in the "[Character] versus [Character]" matches besides stand on the sidelines. (Zeppeli stands on the sidelines a lot too! It's a genre thing and also he's kind of suicidal, but when so many lives are on the line, it is a little weird.) I don't think Speedwagon is useless at all. He's very helpful against run-of-the-mill zombies, sure! I like him a lot! I think he does really well! He's obviously contributing to the party in a practical way as a support character and I enjoyed his presence. (Also: I didn't watch the anime; I was reading the manga.)

He just ends up getting left behind once the power escalation typical of battle shounen starts going. And I think that the narrative was purposefully shaped in such a way that the more powerful opponents left him alone in favor of focusing on Jonathan and Zeppeli, and that he COULD have been more of a liability if any of the absurdly powerful villains who are practically invulnerable in many ways had simply targeted him specifically more sincerely. He does stay out of the way because he understands his limits after that first confrontation with Vampire Dio! He knows he WOULD be a liability to Jonathan or Zeppeli if he threw himself forward thoughtlessly into some of the more superpowered battles, so he doesn't.

But everything could have been a lot worse for Speedwagon if the story wasn't generally structured in the "one fighting match happens at a time" format typical of shounen manga.

Dio could have ripped into Speedwagon at almost any point while Jonathan was busy fighting someone else if he had bothered. Basically, when Jonathan was fighting that first undead knight, I was like, "Wow, it would be really bad if the other one and/or Dio targeted Zeppeli and Speedwagon right now." And then the villains generally didn't? There are notable moments where everyone is just... watching Jonathan. I was expecting the villains to try to take more hostages (like that hypnotized kid), especially since Jonathan is a good man who wouldn't want to see his friends or even bystanders hurt. Speedwagon is a vulnerable point in the party, knows it, and endeavors to keep out of the way and contribute where he can, and he does a good job, but he was also kind of lucky that Dio is so obsessive and arrogant (and that the author simply decided not to pursue that direction for events).

It's also that narratively, in terms of pushing the plot forward in the Windknight's Lot arc, Speedwagon doesn't have much to do besides be a supportive friend and an extra hand. Which is a good role! There are many great characters who serve backup roles and relieve the protagonist's burden in very significant small ways. But there's still nothing he does specifically that couldn't potentially be accomplished by another support character, if necessary, and he has no significant character development arc of his own in this contained arc. This doesn't mean I think he shouldn't be there (the fact that he was on these adventures does shape his entire life as a person and significantly contributes to his later role in Part 2). He contributes strongly to the overall emotional heart of the story in Part 1, which is extremely necessary when everything is as ridiculous as it. The fact that he can't do things, and that this frustrates him, plays an important narrative role in making things feel dire for Jonathan and more impressive when Jonathan succeeds. He's a necessary grounding point for the audience.

I just think it's funny that his main role as a character (as a narrative element within the story, rather than a person living in this world) seemed to be reacting to the fights rather than participating in them. I was mainly making a joke about how he stands on the sidelines and narrates so much of what's going on like some kind of sports commentator. I did read all of Part 1. I did not miss the things that you describe. I don't need the story explained to me again, though I do respect that you felt the need to defend him as a person. He seems like a nice guy. I like him.

~

EDIT: Adding to this post under the readmore because this is getting too long to be on my very much not-JJBA blog and having this in my drafts somehow made me unable to answer this privately.

rottengummybox asked:

Technically, Dio's initial plan during the fire was to end Speedwagon once he got rid of Jonathan, as he saw Jonathan as a bigger threat to his plans (and which didn't end up happening anyway due to how that one fight turned out in the end). There was also a moment where Tarkus, the dark knight who was kind of in the background during the fight against Bruford, kind of targeted Zeppeli and Speedwagon (and Poco), but yeah, I see what you mean with the way the fighting seems to be structured. It also kinda makes sense within the context of the plot as Dio's plan and direct orders to his zombies were to end Jonathan (which includes his companions as a secondary target), and also makes sense from the author's point of view and how it tends to be the MC who stands out in fights and whatnot. The author has made it clear he wanted his main character and antagonist to stand out as Part 1 sets the base of the overall story and plot of Jojo of "good vs evil".

As for Speedwagon's role in the Windknight's Lot arc, I have to disagree a bit there. He does have a "supportive friend" role there, but it isn't one that any other support character could fill, at least not to the extent that Speedwagon does. By this point in the story, it has already been stablished and it is heavily implied that Jonathan and Speedwagon have developed a close connection offscreen. They know about each other's backgrounds and stories, they know the struggles the other is dealing with, and they stick close together, helping each other out and supporting the other as much as they can. Little details such as them casually handing over the sword by tossing it to the other right before the fight in Dio's chamber shows there is some kind of non-verbal communicaton there that came as a result of that connection they have. While Zeppeli and Jonathan do develop a connection too, it doesn't seem to be as deep as that Jonathan has with Speedwagon.

It is also mentioned through different official Jojo media and can also be noted through subtext in the story that Speedwagon has been the one in charge of providing "heart" to Jonathan from the start and throughout all of the ordeal inside and outside of the battlefield. Erina also fulfills this role to an extent, however, the story makes it clear plenty of times that, unlike Speedwagon, she doesn't know anything about what's going on with the Stone Mask, which is also part of the reason why she understandably just stands and watches as Dio kills Jonathan by the end of Part 1 instead of trying to do something to save him (and its also why its strongly believed by some people that, had Speedwagon been there when the last arc happens, Jonathan's chances at survival would have been higher). In very general terms, at least during the Windknight's Lot arc, it is Speedwagon who has the deepest connection with Jonathan in pretty much every aspect and who he doesn't have to hide anything from. He's the first real and meaningful connection Jonathan has had with anyone in the last 7 years.

There is also some character development for Speedwagon in the Windknight's Lot arc, or at least we're shown plenty of new information and sides about him, like him using his resources as a criminal to track Dio down. This is also the arc where we see him do for the first time something he would do again later on in Part 2: Teaming up with someone he doesn't like or agree with to achieve a greater good, or, in this case, to save someone he genuinely cares about. Apparently, plenty of translations often ommit that Speedwagon and Zeppeli didn't like each other at first and were often being rude to each other all the time. Despite it being often taken completely out of context to death, the scene where Speedwagon melts Zeppeli's frozen arm shows that Speedwagon is the type of man who can momentarily put his differences with others aside in order to achieve a greater good as it was clear by then that the only one who could save Jonathan was Zeppeli and, to achieve that, he needed to use his ripple first. All this among other details that escape my mind right now.

Guess I just wanted to say that he's way more than "narrator guy", which seems to be a rather common take among the fandom overall. He does take that role and which was a necessity in the beginning considering all the stuff that's happening in the story and JJBA as a whole being new at the time, but people often completely overlook his personality and his actions and impact on the story due to that that I simply felt like pointing that out. Sorry for the super long ask!

Response:

It's cool that you feel strongly about these characters and I appreciate your insight! However, I did JUST read the manga. I did not forget everything that happens. I know all of this and did not need the story's plot beats and relationships explained to me again. Please stop reciting the story at me. Please assume that I am capable of both making a quick joke (most of my followers have not read JJBA and I don't want to spoil anything for them) and understanding that these characters are much more than a joke.

I was largely talking about the character of Speedwagon as a narrative element, rather than who he is as a person, and about the way that the author chose for things to happen. From a Watsonian lens, Dio is focusing on Jonathan because Jonathan is the bigger threat; Dio has already fought Speedwagon and has dismissed him as inconsequential, because Dio is an incredibly arrogant and powerful person. From a Doylist lens, the fight is happening this way because the author has decided that there's going to be a bunch of 1v1 fights one after the next. The author could have chosen to pursue the fact that Speedwagon is the most vulnerable companion, a potential liability in a fight against a vampire, and chose not to because that's not the story that he wanted to tell.

To be clear: I do not think Speedwagon should not be there or that Speedwagon is entirely replaceable, especially not by any one single character. But I am not talking about him as a person or a friend to Jonathan or a contributing member of the party. I am talking about him as a construct within the overall story.

From a Watsonian lens, Speedwagon helps Zeppeli with the frozen arm because Jonathan has inspired him to help in this dire situation. From a Doylist lens, this is all just happening to temporarily take Zeppeli out of the fight, and while it shows off that Speedwagon is a good man and solid friend, his help could probably be replaced by the author coming up with some other magical trick, inventing some way for Zeppeli or Jonathan to get around this, or just claiming they need to wait a certain amount of time. The author could have just written something different. The magic system within JJBA is extremely arbitrary and required high suspension of disbelief. The story, like all stories, is entirely manufactured.

Because Speedwagon has no special supernatural abilities and is a more minor character, it would be relatively simple for the author to hand off his pushes on the narrative to other characters, including even some random villager. Someone like Erina, who is a nurse, could in theory have also helped Zeppeli (although we know that Jonathan was desperate not to involve her and I do think that Dio would have targeted Erina to use her against Jonathan here, so I understand why she's not here). The fact that Speedwagon is present, doing everything that he does without special powers, instead of leaving his actions to be divided among other characters (Jonathan and Zeppeli are both already carrying a lot of weight), makes him an incredibly brave person and a great friend.

After Zeppeli has taught Jonathan the basics of these powers, the author could have likewise chosen to kill Zeppeli off earlier, and could have come up with ways for the pushes that Zeppeli has on the plot to be given to other characters. The author could have chosen for Tonpetty and crew to have shown up earlier and take over Zeppeli's contributions to the fights. I don't think the author should have done this (it would weaken Zeppeli as a character and the effect of his sacrifice on Jonathan), I just know that he could have.

Speedwagon is a minor enough character that it would be relevantly easy to make simple minor changes to remove him completely from this arc, with little to no effect on the main plot beats - the most basic summary of the Jonathan versus Dio conflict. I think that the story would be lesser for this, of course. It would change the tone of the story immediately. Like playing the same song on a different instrument; while the song might be more or less the "same", the vibe is going to be different if you take out one character and have others fill in.

As you note, Speedwagon and Jonathan have a good friendship. The story is richer for the fact that Jonathan is a character who attracts and inspires loyal friends who strive to help him even when they are desperately outmatched. The major plot beats of an arc might be able to do without certain minor characters, but the minor details contribute to the dramatic struggle that draws an audience in and the emotional heart of the story. (Their friendship as shown now also becomes an important launch point for the next story. Speedwagon simply existing through this arc is important. He doesn't have to do anything here to be significant.)

I do think that a lot of weight is put on the reader to infer the strength of this friendship, to assume what has happened off-screen, and I would have liked to actually see more direct emotional support between Jonathan and Speedwagon in a quiet moment, especially given that Jonathan has lost his father and his home, but I understand that it's not the typical style of the genre. What IS shown on-screen are the fights. And Speedwagon simply hasn't got a lot to do during these specific fights that couldn't be theoretically accomplished by someone else, especially compared to characters like Jonathan and Zeppeli, who get pretty much all of the really big moments. Although, again, the fact that Speedwagon DOES do what he does, all these actions that in theory could be done by someone else but weren't, is significant and admirable. His collective actions belong to him in this story.

Someone else could take over the announcer and cheerleader role as well! I don't think it's Speedwagon's defining trait as a person within this universe, and it sucks if people are reducing him to someone who contributes nothing to Jonathan when that is very obviously not the case. He is absolutely not just a liability. As a narrative element, however, the fight narration is just one of the big roles that he's given that's actually shown on the page. And it honestly serves to show just how much he cares about Jonathan, how much he worries about him, and how much he's trying to help despite his personal limitations. I don't think that him being "the commentator" is a bad thing. It tells the story. It's what the author chose to do with him instead of making him a main fighter.

If we say that everything that makes up a story is a tower, then removing the piece of Jonathan from the story makes the entire building collapse immediately. Removing Zeppeli makes the entire following arc collapse immediately because he is the instrument through which Jonathan gains powers, and major changes would be needed for Jonathan to learn about these powers and the history of the Stone Mask another way. If we remove Speedwagon after he has helped Jonathan find the poison-seller, then I think that the tower becomes shaky, minor fixes are needed to keep it from falling apart during Windknight's Lot, but the overall structure of the Jojo vs. Dio story can remain intact without this supporting minor character.

Erina is another character who is easy to replace in the main plot beats around this part of the plot. She helps to heal Jonathan after the mansion burns down, so it could be argued she helped to save Jonathan's life (preventing infection, etc.) which of course has a huge impact on the plot, but her nursing could have been easily replaced by Speedwagon or Zeppeli (showing up earlier) serving a similar function. She just doesn't have very much to do here, action-wise. She doesn't push the narrative along in the same direct way that Jonathan or Zeppeli do, not having the drive to destroy the Stone Mask or defeat Dio in battle. But removing Erina from the story in these specific parts, just because her individual actions don't require special powers and are frankly quite small in the overall plot, would tear out an emotional heart of the narrative and interfere with her later critical role in the story. Removing Erina's nursing role just because someone else could do it would be really bad! Removing Speedwagon would ultimately be bad and it cannot be done without making minor changes to the story. A character can have not much to do at certain points and nevertheless be key to the overall story that the author chose to tell.

[sailing-through-hawkins]

hi hi hi for the WIP Wednesday ask game: Eddie Gets Isekai'd! :D Purely because I love that file name lmao

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS AU OKAY CONTEXT instead of dying in the upside down, eddie runs from the bats and through another portal but instead of landing in hawkins, he's in a whole other reality! one straight out of dnd, a classic western fantasy setting with magic and elves and their own versions of vecna and demo-monsters! when eddie lands in this reality, he finds Stefan Harrington and Ed Mundrason - stefan is fascinated by eddie and agrees to help him home, even if ed is reluctant and glares at him the whole way

Ignore the sting, keep walking. He wanted to take a stroll anyways.

It's not actually a lie, Stefan inhales as he slows his pace.

Walking under the moonlight was never a luxury, not the way Jane believed it to be, not for Stefan. It is more of a comfort than anything.

To listen for wildlife, smell the oak and dirt that surrounds him, to shiver at the touch of the breeze dancing past him.

He is no wordsmith, not like Nancy or Ed, but if he could, he would write something about the peace that comes with a quiet night. Something about the way it makes him feel healed, differently to how the sun makes him feel alive, breathing and living after years of fighting the dark.

Fighting with Ed is usually so easy, so light. They fight over food, over Dustin, over who gets to ride the single horse left in the stables. But this is -

"Fuck, fuck, fuck -"

Stefan whirls towards the yelling, reaching out for his mace that - that he left at the inn, damn it!

"Please don't follow me, god, fuck, oh my god -"

Snapping the branch off a tree is going to have to be his move, he needs something weighty enough to hit hard. The sound echoes and Stefan startles when the voice starts getting louder, as if in response.

"I said don't follow me, fucking hell, god why did it have to be bats!" The voice is near and Stefan quietly tightens the straps of his gauntlet. Leather is more effective against bane bites than people expect. He waits behind the tree, listening to the high-pitched screeches of wingbanes that follow after the voice. That's one, two, three wingbanes. "Why couldn't it be demo-worms or something!"

A figure rushes past and Stefan registers a head of curls and black leather before he hears the screeches one more time and spins around the tree, catching one wingbane by the throat and slamming it into the ground.

The screeches rise in pitch and he knows the other two are just behind him, so he plunges the branch into the body of the monster and twists until the cries die out, raising his arm to slam against an incoming wingbane that tries chewing through his gauntlet. He grits his teeth and pulls the branch out of the black blood, swinging it into the other wingbane that tries to reach his legs.

With a roar, Stefan throws the monster on his arm to the ground, slamming his foot on its squishy body and stabbing the branch through its mouth, black ooze bubbling from the wound.

"Holy shit."

Stefan turns but has to dodge the final wingbane that wraps its tail around his arm.

Poor thing.

With a grin, Stefan pulls the monster in by the tail and slams it into the ground right next to its brethren, shoving the blackened branch into its body with a sickening crack. The cries of the beasts die out as the clouds that obscured the moon pass by. He tilts his head, still panting heavily, as he notices the blue tinge to their skin, the absurdly shorter body and longer tail-span.

These are a different breed of wingbanes.

That does not bode well.

"S-Steve? Is that you, man?"

Stefan blinks. Right, of course, they were chasing after somebody. He turns around and inhales sharply when the moonlight casts over a man, sitting on the ground and leaning against a tree with hunched shoulders. His curly hair is covered by a piece of cloth and his clothing is strange, unusually bulky, tight and shiny, but those eyes. Round and dark, even in the sunlight, even in the heat of battle.

"Ed?"

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Vast!Jon Au - time for some REVEALS

Oh, oh, oh, there are some BIG CLUES as to what's going on in this scene.

Fair warning: We don't know no stinking timeline. I am back on my self-indulgent bullshit, y'all, and that means it's ALL going in the pot.

Martin/Jon Childhood Friends

Vast!Jon, professional photographer

Lonely!Martin, YouTube baker

A plane crash! Angst! Drama!

Old guys playing dice with the universe!

Stoker brothers! Archivist Sasha!

Agnes Montague?

Mike Crew???

Nothing is sacred here.

And now... phase two.

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

A week of nothing is good for them all, surely.

Jon and Martin text constantly, but Jon will not show his face, or say what he’s doing. So that’s fine.

Sasha swears she’s okay, and shows up for dinner with the Stokers. She won’t talk about Jon. So that’s fine.

Martin is sure none of this is fine.

But he’s in a holding pattern until Friday, which is when he must be at the top of his game. He spends some of his waning bank account on a haircut and a manicure, ensures his clothing and makeup are on point, and prepares for the show of his life.

Not one job application he's sent out has gotten a nibble.

This Lukas thing, whatever it is, has to work.

#

Tim calls it The Martin Effect.

Danny calls it a little bit spooky.

Martin calls it working the room, and considers it an easy performance. Even when performing for a bunch of weirdos.

The Lukas family is… more than a little bit weird, actually?

They’re all tall and freakishly pale, which has to be genetic. Eyes like ice, all of them. They stand in a cluster, watching their guests, like freaky gods made of stone and misanthropy.

Oh, their smiles are friendly, and their handshakes are good, but Martin is skilled at reading people and knows damn well not one of them is actually friendly at all.

But they sure do have a fancy as fuck house.

They'd invited him to their manor, in Kent - which is nearly eighty miles from London, and would have been an automatic no (Martin has seen horror movies) - except that they prefaced the invite by explaining it had to be on a certain date because others’ schedules weren’t very flexible.

Those others were several people like him (nobodies) and several of those YouTubers mentioned in the note (nobodies who’d made good).

The Lukases even sent a car to get him. With drinks.

Fancy. 

Also weirdly lonely, because there was a divider so he couldn’t even speak to the driver, and the car wasn’t a limo but it was too big, and Martin sat in the back and played on his phone and felt severely out of place.

He’s still doing this.

The Mooreland House came looming out of an unseasonable fog like something in a ghost story. Huge, all gray stone, somehow both absurdly posh and weirdly featureless, it does not feel welcoming.

Martin arrived at the same time as everyone else, coordinated. 

Then it was awkward-as-fuck meetup time, which is fine by him.

“No, that’s completely reasonable,” he says to his fellow nobody’s absolute rant about comment misbehavior. “It feels very personal, really.”

His fellow nobody beams like Martin gave them a prize.

Martin doesn’t mean a word because the rant is stupid. They’re internet comments. Yes, humans make them, but it’s humans on the other side of a screen, faceless, nameless, person-less.

Which is how they view you, even though they have your face and name, he thinks, but outwardly commiserates with BabyBrian (whose makeup isn’t very good, but Martin won’t tell them that), then moves on to meet the next nobody in line.

He’s spent time with nearly all the nobodies now. It’s horribly familiar; same as moving every few months and first trying to make friends, then moving every few months and just trying to make peace, same as not mattering and nobody mattering and sinking slowly into himself and his mum not caring, until they came to Bournemouth, when he was six, and his father walked away, and mum didn’t want to move again.

And Martin found Jon.

And for the first time in his life, felt seen.

He remembers that. Even though he was young, he remembers meeting Jon, more clearly than he recalls his father’s face.

But that doesn’t matter, because none of these people are Jon. 

It’s so damn fake. Martin’s good at fake. He knows how to stammer just so, when to drop his eyes, how to smile. 

Just keep it together, he tells himself, because he doubts very highly that the Lukas family (who is watching all of this with unreadable expressions) is going to give them all the golden ticket.

It’s obviously some kind of competition, though to what criteria, he doesn’t know. 

So. He’s himself.

The part of himself that doesn’t have Jon, that is.

There are two nobodies left to talk to in this group, and lucky him, they’re standing together, making it easy. “Hello!” says Martin brightly as he walks over.

So, two things immediately jump out at him.

One: they are absolutely nothing alike, but when they turn as one to look at him, he feels in his core that they are absolutely the same.

Two: that something same is whatever horror now lives in Jon.

It damn near throws him.

They’re connected. They’re serving evil gods. He’s certain.

Martin smiles more brightly to cover his spike of terror and offers his hand. “Martin. I bake muffins.”

The guy responds first, smiling just as brightly and shaking his hand. “Mike. I do optical illusions.”

“Oh, I’ve seen those!” says Martin brightly. “I recognize your voice. CrewsClues, right?” It is a hell of a channel. Obviously, it must be camera tricks, some kind of manipulation, but no one’s ever figured out how he does it.

For the first time, Martin is afraid that maybe it isn’t technical prowess behind those tricks.

This guy can livestream, and while livestreaming, twist a road into spirals, or make it seem like the building he’s walking by has just rusted itself to holes and timber, to mold and curling paint. Fascinating stuff.

Mike also does gross food stuff, but Martin loves food, and won't think about that.

However, he wonders why the hell this guy isn’t on camera.

Mike is fucking hot. Fit, toned, tanned; nearly white hair, shocking blue eyes - and, intriguingly, the branches of some kind of lightning-scar peeking above his shirt to kiss his throat.

Maybe he doesn’t go on camera because his smile is as fake as Martin’s.

Something in the eyes…

Mike Crew is not a friendly person, and Martin logs him away as dangerous.

“That’s me,” says Mike. “This is Agnes.”

Agnes is… Well. Intense is one way to put it. She is unblinking, still as a sheathed knife, and does not smile. Her hair is long and auburn, her eyes seem almost orange, and she’s nearly as tall as Martin.

She also doesn’t shake hands, apparently. “Hello.”

“She’s got that It All Burns channel,” says Mike.

“Oh! Oh, that’s… wow. Fascinating,” says Martin, looking fascinated, internally terrified.

It All Burns somehow combines an unnerving, visceral fear of the dark - of what’s in the dark, unseen - with sudden and violent flame, and there’s never any way to know just what she’s going to set on fire.

Martin hadn't even know the channel was run by a she. The host never speaks.

Of course, it isn’t real, say the comments, because it’s illegal, the things she burns - from as small as fancy men’s watches to entire derelict flats. Because someone would have caught her if she were actually doing arson, and besides - no matter what she’s burning, the flame she sets always looks the same.

It’s white. 

The last time Martin glanced at her comments, speculation was still rife as just what she was doing to make flame white, regardless of fuel.

He stopped checking after that. Agnes’s videos disturb him.

Agnes disturbs him more.

Now that he knows monsters are real… “It’s great to meet you,” he chirps, smiling brightly. “Hey, can I refill your drinks?”

“Naw, I’m about to bail,” says Mike with a shrug that stretches his half-buttoned shirt (white, to make his tanned skin more interesting). “I don’t think this is for me, anyway. I was curious, but I don’t really need the help.”

“Lucky you,” Martin laughs. “Well, I’m glad I got to meet you.”

“Yeah,” says Mike, with an unexpected and appreciative look. “You’re cuter than on your videos. Maybe we should collab, sometime.”

Martin laughs like that wasn’t absolutely audacious flirting. “I don’t really know what baking and illusions could do together.”

“Could do a test. See what happens to muffins over time.”

Mike had a couple of live feeds constantly monitoring food allowed to rot.

Martin pushes those out of his head, because they’re gross. There are maggots.

Why the fuck live feeds like that had an audience, he has no idea, but he’s not letting anything like that near his muffins. “Not a bad idea. Let’s chat about it sometime, okay?”

Mike knows.

He knows he just turned Martin’s stomach.

Mike's smile is cruel.

Martin’s is sweet and sunlight and fresh-found honey.

“See you,” says Mike, and leaves.

“So that was - ” Martin starts, but Agnes is leaving, too. Did they come together? “Not for you, either, huh?” says Martin.

“It’s a trap,” says Agnes.

Martin can’t quite hide this reaction. His eyes go wide, and he goes too still, just for a moment. “What?”

“I like you. I hope you lose,” says Agnes, coat donned, hair pulled free from her collar. She meets his eyes, pinning him again. “Good luck.” And she leaves.

“But what are you - ”

Nope. She’s not going to tell him what the trap is. She’s gone.

Oh, Ariana, we’re really in it now, he thinks hysterically, and sips his drink to cover it.

So does he leave?

He has no other options. He tried to get a job. He tried to get a loan. He has to do this.

He can’t take his mother into his closet-sized flat. Not only would her hospital equipment not fit, they would definitely kill each other within a week.

Jon…

He knows Jon would take him in.

He knows Jon would spend his own money to care for Martin’s mother.

Martin will not do that. He’s refused the offer before. He won’t.

He doesn’t even know why, but he won't.

“Excuse me, everyone,” says a cheerful voice, and Martin turns to find yet another Lukas has joined the fray.

This one’s different, though. He’s not so pale. His smile reaches his eyes. “Thank you all for coming! My name’s Evan. I guess you all know why you’re here, so I won’t drag it out. Leave the long speeches to the old guys, right?”

And it’s not really funny, but his delivery is so charming, and so personable, that Martin finds himself chuckling with the rest of them. 

“It’s time for your individual interviews. Now, I need to stress this: just be yourself. A front isn’t something anyone can maintain forever, and we’re looking for genuine above all else here. As I’m sure you’ve guessed, only one of you is going to get the sponsorship this quarter.”

Yeah, they’d all guessed. A few people sip drinks, nervously.

Martin is not one of them.

“We’re going in alphabetical order,” says Evan. “And hey - there isn’t anything to be afraid of, all right? In fact, we’re giving you all financial compensation for spending the day with us so nobody feels like we wasted their time. Right! Martin Blackwood?”

Oh good, I’m the guinea pig, he thinks, and raises his hand and smiles. “Present and accounted for!”

“Come on dooooown,” says Evan.

Martin snorts. Only one other person in the room seems to get the extremely dated Price is Right reference - the sea captain, Peter Lukas.

Everyone else's looks are just... stone.

“Follow my aunt Susie.” Evan shakes Martin’s hand. “Love your muffins, by the way. They’re great for parties.”

“Right? Thank you,” Martin says, feeling like this is the first time he’s smiled for real all day, and follows aunt Susie down the hall.

[gofancyninjaworld]

So, the upcoming chapter (update 230) gives me some thoughts

One change from the webcomic is obvious: the Tank Toppers are doing their best but are utterly outmatched by the Forest King.

Yes, that's Tank Top Girl in the lower right corner. I'm glad Reddit hasn't twigged or the sub would be swarmed with tentacle porn jokes.

We're anticipating that it's Genos who will come save them, but it won't make sense if the Forest King is still a demon-level threat like it was in the webcomic.

Genos is far too strong for that in the manga. This isn't recent; in fact, demon-level monsters have been a non-issue for Genos since chapter 64, when even the most defensive, sneakiest ones couldn't win against him, even when he was making mistakes.

Last we met him, demon-level threats were the trash he'd kill with a single kick.

ON WE GO! ONE has many evil challenges for Genos yet! We have well-organised, incredibly evil outfits (plural) that pose an existential threat to society. The monster irruption is getting worse, there are absurdly powerful monsters in existence (much worse than in the wc). And there's a god on the warpath. Genos has experienced this first-hand, much more so than most people.

And that's before we start on the destabilising effect that a new land popping back up is going to have. Also, how sure are we that the monster-weapon development project Drive Knight has been collecting specimens for is actually going to be used for anything good?

Not wasting time scrapping with regular monsters is good. Let's move this story forward!

However, I can think of two possible scenarios in which the Forest King could be a demon-level threat. Neither scenario is good.

Scenario 1: Dr Kuseno is having financial difficulties

Being a combat cyborg is expensive, and goodness knows that the last few weeks have meant that Genos has run through upgrades and weapons like cheap clothing. I don't care how rich Kuseno is, Genos's war body must have taken a significant bite out of his wealth. Even a billionaire would weep.

It might be possible that what Genos is coming back with is not what he wants but what the doctor can afford to give him, and it's a hell of a lot less than he'd be happy with.

If Genos is lucky, it's a cashflow problem in that he just has to take it easy on the demands until the doctor can rebuild his war chest. If Genos is unlucky, it's a running-out-of-cash problem and there's nothing for it but to make do with less, permanently.

Scenario 2 (less likely): Genos has lingering health problems that have forced him to downgrade

Even though the worst thing that happened to him in the last arc has been undone, Genos took a hell of a battering. Only some of that battering came from the monsters: the rest came from his very body. He's lucky that Fubuki can heal bodies as well as she can cool machinery off. Without that healing, he might well have perished before Cosmic Garou hove on scene.

It's not unreasonable for Dr Kuseno to decide that Genos's state of health doesn't allow him to safely wear a souped-up body, never mind a more powerful iteration of the same. He has no interest in supporting a dead hero.

Genos wouldn't take either scenario well but I think scenario 2 would be particularly devastating. His questions for Saitama would be pretty angsty -- how is he supposed to get stronger under such circumstances? Heck, how is he even going to survive with the kinds of threats now rearing their ugly heads?

Personally, I'm hoping that the 31st brings up a progressive story where demon-level monsters are no issue and we can move on with what's going on in this world, but I can see the mileage ONE could get out of regression. Either tack would take the manga story further away from the webcomic which works for me. :D Gimme two cakes, any day.

Of course, another hero altogether could save the Tank Toppers. And that would be another change from the webcomic, one that'd leave us to wonder about Genos a bit longer.

[crehador]

MORE OVERTAKE SPOILERS ep7 holy shit

we're seeing more concrete details of kouya's past now and god, like none of it is especially surprising, we could have already put the picture together more or less

but it really is a perfectly crafted tragedy because it's like kota says, kouya couldn't have saved her whether he took the picture or not but at the same time the public outrage isn't surprising

this isn't like taking a photo of the notre dame as it burns, a kid died. and while photojournalism is about capturing significant moments in history, it's an understandably human reaction to feel outrage at seeing this photo of a child who died just moments after

of course kouya didn't deserve that level of hate, of course he couldn't have done anything either way, but it's just such an expected, inevitable tragedy that its sadness feels especially pronounced to me

although the series has thoroughly impressed me so far, i'm still a bit wary of how the rest of kouya's story will unfold. what he was thinking in the moment when he took that photo, why he published it afterwards, and what caused him to stop being able to take photos (the awful feeling of not being able to do something more than take a photo, or just the fear of being criticized again?)

he's a very sympathetic character to me right now, because it's easy to think maybe he didn't choose to publish the photo, maybe it was taken out of his hands (much like he didn't choose to publish the photo of haruka crying)

but even if he did choose to publish it, even if his fear is of the public outlash... i don't think it would make him a worse character. maybe less sympathetic, but still fascinating and well-written

so it'll be hard for the show to go wrong from here, they've set up honestly a much more nuanced and riveting character backstory than i would have thought possible

moving on from that HARUKA'S FUCKING APOLOGY SCENE HOLY SHIT this was such a prickly standoffish kid at first and his apology was so earnest and from the heart, and kouya DIDN'T EVEN HEAR IT and even if haruka gets the chance to say it again IT'LL NEVER BE THE SAME I'M BITING ELECTRIC CABLES RIGHT NOW

it's kind of incredible to me, from a craft standpoint, that on the surface haruka's journey and kouya's journey are two completely separate things, their trauma doesn't stem from remotely the same thing, they have different goals, they're basically different in every way. and yet there's still a resonance there, that enables them to help and understand each other (which i think is what makes it so much more effective and impactful when they misunderstand each other)

haruka's growth is unfolding brilliantly as well, and though the focus is more on kouya right now, the story still feels so absurdly well-balanced

on a kind of side note i'm also obsessed with kota in this episode, it's a simple thing but the parallel of him like telling arisu to visit harunaga and telling haruka to just go see kouya? god i feel for this kid, he's such a good kid

like these are presumably his two best friends, at least from what we've seen, and his whole role in this episode (kind of in the whole story in some ways) is to push them towards other people

because it's the right thing to do, yeah, and it's what his friends need to hear, but man he should not be alone either!

anyway absolutely captivated, very much looking forward to next week in which my thoughts are sure to become even less coherent lol

[chickenpeep77kirbyau]

Fecto Elfilis

Elfilin's natural species, Idrelian, lives in a high magic world and fly around with levitation. This allows the males of the species to have absurdly big and fancy display features, since weight isn't as much of an issue. The females (lower left) are more plain, with smaller ears, lack of horns and side of face structures, and reduced caruncles, along with lack of neck floof and a more faded belly marking. Since it wouldn't be good for a species to laser blast rivals to death constantly(too risky for both combatants), the males settle for display features and posturing to compete with each other.

I believe Facto Forgo is some version of a zeroid ish lifeform. Elfilin/Elfilis(?) (Was that even his original name?) seeked power and made an alliance with it, increasing his power. This life form fused with Elfilin. Its then wanting to consume everything leads me to believe that its method of power increase is similar to Marx's, using absorbed energy to stabilize and increase magic amount pulled in from micro rifts. Their journey began a relatively short time ago, and, coming from a low tech planet, he saw a low magic planet and assumed it would be an easy first conquest, but did not yet understand the power of advanced technology. How else would you explain how the Forgotten Land civilization was able to capture it at their apparent technological level? ("Ultimate Life Form". "The Great One". Lmao settle down buddy you're nothing in the grand scheme of things.) If not stopped, they presumably would have eventually returned to the Idrelian home world and absorbed them all after it became strong enough to fight them all.

Forgotten Land's civilization (It's Earth, but a parallel universe version of it), due to the nature of magic and their low to none magic world, are unable to actually learn its worm hole magic, but by studying its effects, are eventually able to duplicate it with technology. This time at Lab Discovera fractured his mind, resulting in the separation of Elfilin and Fecto Forgo/April I I'd old self. Elfilin manifested as a form resembling a juvenile Idrelian(ears are on the big side for his apparent age). Fecto Forgo is unable to remain stable for long without a host soul and began reverting to its base physical form. They put it in stasis somehow. Idk. At their technological level and not knowing much about magic I'm not sure how they figured it out. Or maybe in my au it was just a blob in the tank. They believed the wormholes could take them to higher realms, so they all left for this supposed realm. Where they went and what happened to them is unknown. Elfilin had a hard time after his magic ran out(no Forgo so no magic generation), so its a miracle he survived. Luckily the cities were pretty safe and well stocked with food.

The Forgotten Lands world actually fluctuates in magic amount over time, and if the civilization had waited a while longer, they would have seen the reoccurrence of a higher magic period. Many lifeforms were able to rapidly readapt due to old hidden genes reactivated(there's a scientific term for the reactivation of old ancestral genes but I don't remember what it is). Elfilin was able to levitate again. He has kept some of the abilities he had during his time possessed by Forgo. Also that spear is still around.

Forgo escapes into a pocket dimension. It seems to have features of both physical reality and mind reality. Its also technically part of Forgo, as a semi physical manifestation of Forgo's mind. It is spreading out Leongar's soul to make him a suitable host. Kirby stops that. Forgo, in a weakened state, is predated upon by a type of soul absorbing entity. It tries to carry out Forgo's last wish to destroy Kirby. Its defeated, allowing Forgo to turn the tables on who's absorbing who and reassert control, becoming Chaos Elfilis. Kirby wins again, and Forgo is destroyed once and for all.

I'm thinking after he reunited with the small portion of his old self that wanted forgiveness, he started growing again, in age and in power as he ages. Maybe he can relocate his home world, though how would they react to this child so advanced in skill at his apparent age?

He can still GET you

[colorcodedbeanies]

S2 E4: "Down"

Listened to the Insider podcast for this episode while travelling. They are so excited about how they got that port-a-potty to work.

TW: Smoking, violence, ableism, homelessness

So we've now shifted from Walt attempting to share the blame about Tuco to just abdicating all responsibility in the matter. Something he insists over and over again in this episode when denying Jesse access to his money is "[why should] I suffer from your carelessness?!" Undoubtedly Walt needs the money. But he refuses to even acknowledge the fact that it was his over-ambitious strategy that got Jesse in this situation to begin with. When Jesse points this out, he instead pivots to personal attacks, asking him if he "smoked the entire 600", calling him a pathetic junkie, and asking him what he even contributes. He's unwilling to ascribe Jesse the degree of personhood to where he can acknowledge he's in equally tough circumstances, and he's also too proud to admit that he feels vulnerable without the money.

BREAKFAST ARC BEGINS. Like most boomer/gen xer dads, Walt's tactic to soothe his wife is to take on the barest degree of "women's work" and act like the novelty will make her forget why she's mad at him in the first place. (Fascinatingly this will also be something he does to Jesse after their wrestling match in the RV). There's something wildly grating about his attempts at conversation. It feels like he's trying to "bring himself down to their level". I love Anna Gunn's facial journey during his long rambly lie about cellphone alarms. The realization isn't just that he's lying, but that he's lying poorly and expecting it to work. He respects her so little that he thinks this half-cocked story will assuage her doubts, and in my opinion that's what ultimately drives her away. We see through their discussion later that Walt still primarily conceives of Skyler's anger as being emotionally centered. She feels neglected, worries that he's cheating, worries that he doesn't love her, and so he attempts to fix it by engaging emotionally. She's the little woman back home, and can't she see all of this is for her? Why on earth would she have questions about WHERE you are and WHEN (and there's such a poetry in her giving him a taste of his own medicine this episode).

That entitlement to Jesse's space reaches its ultimate conclusion with his parents kicking him out onto the street. We never see flashbacks to Ginny's last months, but I do think its notable that his mom doesn't really push back on Jesse's interpretation that she wasn't there for her when she was dying. Jesse's not wrong that he earned this house, even if not legally. More than that, punishment via homelessness isn't exactly an effective way to coax someone OFF of using, or even dealing. The Pinkmans ultimately aren't attempting to put Jesse on a better path, but washing their hands of him completely. So fed up with him they don't even want him on a property associated with their names. And while I don't necessarily fault them for making a decision to cut ties, through wielding the law as a tool between them they are contributing to the classification of Jesse as a Criminal by Class. More that that, it reinforces more than ever his dependency on Walt, as he has to go to him pleading for money just to acquire a spot to sleep at night.

The entire driving lesson is an exercise in Walt's ableism and also a specific expose on where it stems from: insecurity. Flynn's need for mobility aids, for alternative strategies to go about doing tasks, seems to brush right up against all of Walt's medical based triggers. He sincerely seems to expect Junior to bootstraps the cerebral palsy, telling him "there's the easy way and the right way" and more absurdly "your legs are fine, you just have to stick with it". Much like Jesse, Flynn is being set up to fail and then has to deal with the embarrassment and shame surrounding that. He has at least enough self-assurance to say I told you so, but its undoubtedly rough for a teenager to feel like his body is something his dad thinks he has to get over, rather than something to live with.

He's not the only family member with Jesse parallels this episode, as Skyler seeks comfort for her distress in a substance that she feels she has to hide. I'll dig more into this when Walt finds the carton, but for now I want to draw attention to the lady who glares at her. The presumption is irresponsible parent, not struggling parent. Junkie, not addict. Obviously this individual lady has no responsibility to check on the stranger she sees doing something potentially harmful to her future child. But that reaction of judgement before empathy is something that's going to echo hard with Walt, and I'd argue is a microcosm of social attitudes towards addiction as a whole.

After a frustrating argument with his wife, Walt meets his younger associate in an RV and immediately gets in his face to provoke him. Jesse and Walt wrestle, culminating in Jesse straddling him with his hands on his neck and Walt taunting him. He then rolls off him and Walt offers to make breakfast. This is a sex scene by proxy if nothing else.