#it's like a nerd school all they do is run around and tReAsUrE hUnT

[funkyjeans]

sada leave him alone he probably has social anxiety

[nightcolorz]

Silly ofmd au idea

Our Flag Means Death modern au except all the characters are just very creative neurodivergent kids with pirate fixations acting out complex storylines on the playground:

-Stede is a sheltered rich kid who gets to play the captain and make the rules cause he made his very own cardboard pirate ship that everyone wants to play with. He doesn’t like roughhousing so his “crew” is usually bored. Stede wants to do sweet and innocent treasure hunt role plays while his friends want to scream and hit each other with sticks, pretty much. His crew are always on the fence about kicking him out of the game because they don’t like playing with him but they know that if Stede isn’t around they won’t get to use his pirate ship.

-Ed isn’t popular at all in school but he has leverage among the weird pirate kids cause he's *very* well versed in historical pirate facts. He made his own beard out of paper and he tapes it on his face to be Blackbeard. A lot of the kids he plays with don’t care about pirates nearly as much as he does so playings becoming stultify for him. He wants to make storylines based around real pirate stuff but his friends just want to run around and roughhouse. For this reason Stede’s crew catches his eye.

-Izzy is the kid on the playground who’s constantly trying to boss around the other kids and control the game. He yells “pause” every five seconds if you know what I mean. He’s also very knowledgeable on pirates and he’s always gatekeeping other kids from playing with them if they’re not “pirate-y enough”. None of the other pirate kids like him because he makes playing seem like a chore, but Ed remains his friend cause Izzy was the first kid he ever played pirates with and it wouldn’t be the same without him.

-Spanish Jackie is an older kid (think middle school) who still likes to play pirates despite being around 3 years the other kid’s senior. She’s popular in both school and on the playground, and she comes up with very cool storylines that make everyone want to play with her. Basically, if you’re an 8yr old pirate nerd who wants to play with Jackie be prepared for a ton of heartbreak and betrayal. She is a bit cut off from the other kid’s storylines since she’s older and doesn’t share recess with the others, so she only ever plays with them on weekends and during the summer at the park. Her “husbands” are a collection of boys who started out fighting over who got to be Jackie’s first mate and eventually compromised by deciding they’d share the role.

-Jim is a standout among the younger kids because they get VERY intense about their role playing, making them a favorite playmate of Spanish Jackie. A lot of the other kids are confused about Jim’s gender at first because the character they play is a boy but they’re actually a “girl”. Jim eventually explains that they want everyone to treat them irl the way they do when they’re playing a boy in the game, which clears things up. Jim kind of sticks out like a sore thumb in Stede’s crew because their plot lines are very complex compared to the rest of the crews.

-Lucius doesn’t care about pirates at all, he’s more of the “reading alone during recess” type. The only reason he plays with the pirate kids is because Stede asked him if he wanted to play with them when he saw him sitting alone and he felt like it would’ve been really rude to decline. Lucius told Stede that he doesn’t like playing make-believe games so Stede said he could write down the plots of their games from the sidelines in his sketchbook instead of playing a character. Eventually Lucius gets roped into the plot when he becomes friends with the other kids so Stede labels him as “ship scribe”

-Oluwande also isn’t very invested in the whole pirate thing, but he’s best friends with Jim and therefore wants to play with them at recess everyday. He starts out not caring that much and just following whatever Jim says but by the end of it he ends up one of the most immersed players.

-“The Dread Black” Pete doesn’t know a thing about real life pirates but he’s been obsessed with Pirates of the Caribbean ever since he was like five so he’s very passionate and intense about the story aspects of the game. He has a ton of lore centered around his character, he goes around telling people that he was “Blackbeard’s second command” because he dramatically “saved his life”. Embarrassingly, Ed and Pete have never actually played together, so once Ed joins Stede and his crew it’s difficult for him to keep that part of his character alive.

-Buttons loves playing make-believe but he doesn’t take the storylines very seriously. He’s always making his character do weird unrealistic things like talk to seagulls and hex people. Most of the other kids like keeping the plots pretty realistic so Buttons is constantly universe breaking with the inclusion of magic. The others undo this damage by just pretending his character is crazy and his magic is ineffectual. Buttons doesn’t seem to mind this dismissiveness by his playmates-as long as he has his comfort stuffed seagull Karl with him he’s pretty much chill with anything.

Ok so if anybody finds this idea fun or interesting I have a good idea of how everything would play out in this au, so if this post gets any traction I’ll make a post talking about how Ofmd’s plot would translate to what I’m calling the “playground au” lol. That would include me writing about how Calico Jack and The Badminton’s would fit into all this (and gentlebeard, which I think would just be some innocent crush stuff), anyways be prepared for a part two! I was laughing sm coming up with this idea with my sis

[hobbitsnapes]

The Red Hoods Protègè chapter 22

Older Damian Wayne x ofc

(Photo made by my lovely friend @iamhollows)

A/N: thanks to my lovely friend @geekonaleash, who wrote majority of the letters, I was able to put this out for you guys.

Summary:Red hood has taken a young vigilante under his wing and subsequently changes Damians life forever.

Tags: @comic-nerd-dc c @comic-brew @psychovigilantewrites @psych0crybaby

Weeks go by of the same routine, taking odd jobs and small cases from her father with little to no hiccups.

It was easy, almost too easy. She had taken on the likes of croc and bane just some months ago, now dealing with petty thefts and bank robbers. She longed for the night she could truly test her skills, whether that be in her fighting or brains.

That night came on a chilly November night.

Her heart raced in her chest as she rounded the alley, her body cold to the core from the deep winter air. Hardly any snow lay on the ground, mostly turned to a dark brown slush that made a God awful noise against her boots.

Her legs felt like they would give out any second, having run through the street practically the entire night in the freezing cold.

She spotted a dumpster up ahead, willing her legs to go a bit further. ‘Just a few minutes’ she thought as she sat down behind it.

It was late, nearly 3 in the morning. Having been out since 8, her body freezing cold making any and all energy in her body disapste.

Her heart sank to her stomach when she saw it, making her eyes widen as she got up.

There, at the opening of the dumpster, lay a hand.

She inspected the body for a split moment, to the best of her ability. Having it been thrown in, trash covering it almost completely.

She knows this is a bad idea, but her curiosity gets the best of her as she pulls it from the dumpster, laying it in a heap on the ground.

From the looks of their clothes, or better yet lack thereof, she’s able to tell it's a prostitute. Long blonde hair a tangled mess as her clothes torn.

The most notable wound being a slash to her throat, that bled down to her chest.

The cut wasn’t deep but torn, the skin fraying like ripped denim. A serrated knife, or a sawing motion from a dull blade. She tries not to think of the immense pain that was caused, even with the cut not being very long. They were left to bleed out, or the killer watched as the Poor woman choked and tried screaming out from the pain, only being able to cough up blood.

“What in the?” She whispers when she sees it, a piece of paper?

She grabs for it from under her top, looking it over and, what?

It almost resembled a riddle, her mind flashing momentarily to the green wearing man before she remembered. Riddler never does kills like these, especially with the body being hidden. His is always a show, a way to get attention. This was sloppy, definitely the persons first.

She took one last look to the body, before making a call to the GCPD, telling them the coordinates. She looked one last time at the letter, before folding it, tucking it into her jacket. Well, here’s her chance she’s been waiting for.

She takes a seat at her desk, lamp set on the letter as she peers down at it.

society mocks those who be different, who dwell in the dark like the shadow of a once bright star, only to cry out when the star be a comet, painting the streets in scarlet and ash. You’ll find the next body where care is to be given, but only to let them die in the end.

What does this mean? She thinks as she reads over the words. Who dwell in the dark like the shadow of a once bright star. They must’ve been someone of status of some kind, whether it be from wealth, family or great skill and achievements, who had everything ripped either by their own doing or another.

only to cry out when the star be a comet, painting the streets in scarlet and ash. They must blame others for what happened to them, and subsequently for loosing their status, so they’re desperate for the game and notoriety they were used to, but from whatever trauma they went through, it broke them. Causing immense anger and rage to fill them, warping their mind, thus the killings. They’re so angry at the world, they want fear, and to cause others the pain they must feel the world brought them.

Her heart drops when she hears her door open, shoving the letter into her desk as she turns around.

“Hey you busy at all?” Tim asks, “no why?” She lies, hoping to God that her voice won’t give her away.

Either he didn’t notice, or chose not to ask as he sits on her bed, her joining him immediately after.

They sit and idly chat about their day, but her mind keeps playing over the letter. What does all this mean? Why is-her questions stop when she looks up, seeing him looking at her in question. “You alright?” He asks. “Yeah why?” “You just seem, out of it. You sure you’re feeling alright?” She sighs at this, truly wanting to ask him to help, but in her gut, she knows that’s the easy way out. He would be able to crack it in seconds, fully able to get the profile on the man easily. She wanted to prove to her father that, she could actually do this on her own. Which is why, she had to lie. “Yeah, sorry just really tired. The cold really made tonight way harder.” A soft smile player on his lips at this. “Well then in that case, I’ll leave you to sleep, and maybe look at upgrading your suit to make it warmer. How’s that sound?” Her heart warms at this, a smile on her face. “That'd be great, thank you.” “Hey no problem, I’ve had to do it so many times, it takes me a few days at most.” He chuckles. She pulls him in for a hug, hey arms wrapping around his shoulders before pulling away.

She gets under her covers as he walks out, a smile on his face as he shuts her light out.

She gets up as soon as he shuts the door, walking quietly back to her desk, pulling out the letter.

She knew she had to do this by herself she thought, as she got her notepad out and got to work.

After reading and deciding the letter, she was able to figure out where the next body would be. The Gotham general hospital. And she knew, this body wouldn’t be hard to find.

And she was right, as soon as she finished the few cases her father sent her on, she got straight to making her way to the hospital. For once thankful for the simple missions he would put her on.

She was right to her suspicion, finding the body directly on the roof of the hospital. Sprawled out was a nurse, who was just as gruesome as the last. A stab wound to the heart. Blood soaked her scrubs, making the soft blue a deep, almost blackened purple. Her eyes wide in horror, set like stone to gaze up to the sky.

And as she knew, there was a letter in her pocket.

She quickly grabbed for the letter, calling the GCPD once again, before leaving.

‘An open casket filled with treasures In one sudden move of utmost pleasures. Sweet cries of the poor carer, Thinking someone cared was her error. You’ll find the body where people gather to see history, not knowing history be made there.’

Something happened to them, something that made their fall from fame so breaking, it broke them in the process.

It not only broke them physically, but emotionally. They hated the care from the hospital and the staff. They were strong, powerful, capable. They were hurt and had to get help for a while, something they loathed. They were probably an athlete, relying on their bodies for their fame.

You’ll find the body where people gather to see history, not knowing history be made there. History, a school? No, that’s not right. History, that word stuck out in her mind.

She quickly got out her laptop, and within a few minutes, she found the Gotham Museum of Antiquities.

She turned back to the letter, setting it flat to her desk.

She ran her fingers over the writing, feeling the harsh indents from the pressure of the pen. It was shaky, the deep indents feeling jagged. They were hurt, humiliated by what happened, causing rage to fill them. They felt such anger that, she could feel it in how hard they wrote. This wasn’t a psychopath, no, this was someone deeply hurt, driven mad.

She wrote all this down as she went, setting the papers over her desk in as neat of a pile that she could.

She quickly set it all into her desk, making sure they were all in an order. She had to make sure nobody would come in, or else, they might find all of this.

It was highly irstional, to think that any of them would go hunting in her room. But the fear of them doing so, kept her up most of the night.

She came up with yet another lie, faking being too ill to go out the next night. Her father concerned for the believable cough she let out, finally being calmed once she told him she was going to stay in that night.

She felt bad, truly. She hated keeping not only a secret, but lying to both her father and her best friend. But she knew this would give her more time, and having her soul focus on this one case.

She waited to hear them leave for over 15 minutes before she readied herself, making sure to leave her door locked.

They all at least knew that, if it was locked, not to enter unless emergency, even then, it would have to be the manor burning down.

She climbed out her window, making sure to listed in to where Alfred was before she made the trip from her high window.

‘So this is what most teenagers feel when they sneak out the house.’ She thought as she got down to the cold ground. Snow had finally fallen in a large heap over the city, making her trip to where she hid her bike that morning harder. It’d be a dead giveaway she snuck out if she just walked through the snow, so it took her time to reach the shrub where her bike lay.

Finally managing to get out of the trees surrounding the manor, she made sure to shut any and all tracking devices she wore, before leaving.

“He’s getting bolder.” She whispered as she reached the museum. There, on the front steps of the old building, lay a man. A security guard to be exact.

She walked over to the man, crouching down to the body. Only this time, there was no stab wound to either his throat or to his chest. But blood looked underneath.

She turned the body around, finally seeing where the source of the blood came from. A deep stab wound to the mans upper back, nearly exposing his shoulder and spine.

She groaned out, reaching for her shoulder blades as memories of the healing played in her mind. To this day, any injury to the upper back or shoulders on another person sent her back, back to the worst time of her life.

Another note, placed in his front pocket pocket out.

She reached for it, tucking it into her jacket before standing up.

She froze in place when she saw them, her eyes trained on them as her heart slows. Prints in the snow nearly filled in, but still visible.

She crouched down to them, looking at each one closely.

They were almost filled in, so this had been taken place only some hours ago. Before the heavy blanket of snow hit.

The thing that stood out was the spacing and the pattern. They were jagged, almost slipping looking like.

The man had a limp. She thought, before standing beside them. She walked to recreate the steps, an evident limp in how they went. It was his right leg. Something happened here, and she thinks she knows what.

She sat at her desk, her blanket securely wrapped around her as she peered down to the letter.

‘It all ends with no more laughter, you’ll find the next body where families gather to watch stars be made on a Field, A trophy that can no longer be concealed’

It all ends with no more laughter. He was mocked, or he believed he was when maybe others looked at him with sympathy. In his eyes, it was them mocking him.

Where families gather to watch stars be made on a Field, A trophy that can no longer be concealed.

He was an athlete, had to be. A gasp leaves her lips as it hits her. Her heart drops to her stomach as she reached for her laptop, hurily turning it on as she writes down her thoughts.

Garrett Wilkins, star quarterback of the Gotham Rogues. Well, used to be.

Star in the game, having played it all his life from school to professional. He had everything. Fame, Wellth, everything.

That was until a fateful day in November, as he was walking out of the old museum with his longtime girlfriend, he was shot in the back.

He was able to make outstanding recovery, no longer wheelchair ridden like doctors thought. But he didn’t walk away how he was. He developed a bad limp, causing his team to kick him off.

Last people heard of him, was his girlfriend left him because of a rumored drinking problem.

This all took place 2 years ago.

She ran as fast as her legs took her, nearly falling over due to the thick snow on the ground.

Her heart hammered against her chest as she entered the arena, eyes searching around until she saw it. Her heart sank to her feet, as a pained sigh left her lips.

She thought she could make it in time, hoping, praying that she would be able to get there before him or when he was here. A small amount of hope that, she could save her.

She crouched down to her body, a tear slipping into her mask as a pained whimper left her lips.

She had hoped he wouldn’t have, but she knew, he would kill her.

“I’m so sorry Cass.” She cried, as she closed her wide eyes. Her body a bloody mess, nearly unrecognizable due to the many stab wounds that littered her body.

And again, like it was a call from a screaming Banshee, lay another letter.

Once more my face will grace your screen A star running on a field of green But now and forever my title I reclaim Never will I lose my newfound fame. You’ll find the next body where families go to play, to be surrounded by others as they watch their children’s play.

“God fucking damnit!” She exclaimed as she slammed her hand against her table, tears filling her eyes. She really, truly hoped she could make it in time. But sadly, she knew this would happen eventually. You can’t save everyone she thought.

Her feet carry her all the way to the park, her heart heavy in her chest from the memories flooding back.

She laughs out as he spins her around, nearly making him fall from both their laughter.

Their faces only inches apart as he sets her down, arms still around her as they gaze into one another’s eyes. Hearts beating at a steady rhythm.

Her eyes search around the park, head tilted slightly as she looks around.

There’s no body? Maybe he hid it? No, he definitely wouldn’t. He WANTS them to be found, wants the fame back on him. Hiding the body gives a chance that it won’t be found, a risk he’s not willing to take.

She rounded the corner, walking further into the snow. Where could it be? She thinks, before her heart stops, everything going black.

A sharp slap to her cheek wakes her up, a cry breaking past her lips. “Jesum dude, a safe word would be nice.” She groaned out. “Where is he?” He demands, hand grabbing a hold of her neck. Her hands and legs tied to the chair. Surprisingly, they felt pretty secure.

“Who?” She asks, anger evident in her voice. “I know you work with Red Hood, Batman, all of them! WHERE ARE THEY!” He screams in her face.

She starts laughing, causing him to grow even angrier. “WHATS SO FUNNY!” She can’t help but throw her head back in laughter. “They’re not coming.” His face falls momentarily, before turning angry once again. “What do you mean THEY'RE NOT COMING!” “I mean exactly that. They aren’t because they don’t know you exist. Only I know and that’s only because I found the first body by accident. All you want is the game again Garrett, well guess what, you lost. Not red hood, Batman, fuck even the GCPD know who you are. You, lost.”

He slams his fists into the table beside her, letting out a frustrated scream. “Fine. Well, I guess I can get fame some other way.” He says, grabbing a gun beside him. Her heart drops to her stomach, shutting her eyes as she waits for the bullet. But, the gunshot never came. The sound of the door breaking down and the man falling to the ground screaming drowned out any and all noise.

She hisses out at the burn of the alcohol on her cheek,trying to drown out the thick silence of the room. “You could’ve gotten killed you know. No correction, you were about to be killed before we came.” Says Jason, anger evident in his tone. Her heart pains in her chest as she looks away from her father. She knows he’s only angry because of fear. Fear that his daughter could’ve died.

“I mean how could you be so careless like that! You should’ve been able to hear him! God I fucking trained you better than that!” He yells, arms up in anger. Everyone stays silent as he rants, knowing not to step between them. Memories of how protective he gets with her, none of them dare to try.

“You could’ve died tonight. This is why I’ve only sent you on smaller cases. I’ll be DAMNED if my daughter gets fucking killed because she was reckless!” “Jason, stop it.” Says dick. Everyone’s heads whip to the man, holding their breaths. “Oh yeah, why should I. My daughter almost got herself killed!” “Because you and none of us have any room to talk. We all risk our lives everytime we go out there. You can’t sit here and scold her for messing up. You, me, Bruce, everyone in the room has slipped up at least a dozen times. So don’t stand there and yell at her when what she did was highly impressive, especially where all you taught her was combat.” He says to the younger man. Jason knows he’s right, lowering his head.

“I’m sorry but what? What was impressive?” She asks nobody in particular. “How you were able to figure that out in such a short amount of time.” Says Tim. “I’m sorry what? How was that impressive? And also, how did you guys find me? I turned off all my tracking devices.” She was completely lost. How is that impressive to a room of some of the worlds greatest detectives. And how in the hell did they find her? “I was worried about you. Last I heard from you was you were sick, and I hadn’t seen or heard anything for over a day. So I, went to go check and found you weren’t there. And, you left all your research on the table. I was able to figure out where he lived, and we all just went.” Says Tim. She wasn’t mad, actually grateful. “And to answer your other question, it’s impressive because, Jason never taught you any advanced detective skills. You not only figured out his letters, but where. And, you can naturally profile handwriting. None of us can do that on our own. It took years to even somewhat make a good guess. Which is why, we wanted to ask you something.” She looks at dick in question, trying to figure out what he meant. “We wanted to ask if you’d join us. Be a part of our team.” Says Bruce. She looks at all of them like they’re mad, before she could say anything, her father beat her to it. “They brought it up to me, and I think, it’s a good idea. Dicks right. You’ve got a lotta skill that they could really use. Especially the handwriting thing. Plus, it’ll be good to have others around just in case something happened. It’ll not only make me feel better knowing you’ve got backup, but I know it’ll give you more room to lean. I’ve, been to scared to let you go out and really test not only your fighting, but your smarts. And I’m sorry for that.”

Everyone’s eyes train on her, as they wait for her response. Even Damians eyes look to her. She lets out a sigh, looking to her father first, before to all of them. “Fine. But on one condition.”

“Wait, you're asking what?” “Exactly that. I’ll be a part of your little Scooby gang as long as if there’s no other option, that if it’s life or death for any of us or civilians, I take them out.” She says, arms crossed. “You’ve gotta be fucking-.”Damian says, before Bruce cuts him off. “Fine. But only, if I, or anyone of the others apart from your father give the okay to that.” Damian looks to his father, eyes wide in anger and disbelief. “Are you-“ “deal.” She says, extending her hand out to Bruce. They both shake on it, neither paying attention to Damian. “You’re all okay with this?” He asks, anger still in his voice. “Didn’t you hear what they agreed on? She won’t do it unless one of us says she can.” Says Tim. “And we need her skills Damian.” Dick replies, arms crossed over his chest. “You’re all fucking crazy.” He says, heart beating wildly in his chest, walking away from everyone.

[eddiemunsonssoulmate]

OBX Season 2 Review

I just finished and I have too many feelings so y’all gotta have to put up with me hehe.

I’m gonna talk about the main plot in general and then gonna talk about the most interesting characters and some other stuff.

I’m not putting a spoiler tag on this so it’s more accessible for the people that don’t mind reading spoilers but it should be obvious that this review isn’t spoiler free.

Main plotline

It was okay. Nothing too crazy but also not very realistic but it’s fiction afterall, so I don’t mind. I loved that they kept the treasure hunt theme going even after the gold was lost. Also loved that it was Pope’s plotline and he got more to his character thanks to it but it was also pretty obvious that every other character suffered because of that. So I’m hoping they’re gonna stick with that, S1 was John B, S2 was Pope, hoping for S3 to be JJ but from how the season ended, it looks like it’s gonna be John B again but who knows, I have hope.

There were some things that I didn’t like for sure, timeline issues, continuity problems but it’s fine, I can overlook it for the sake of the story. I was just missing some real Pogue action, they kept them apart quite often or just split up in smaller teams. I’m also a little meh about the whole fact that they’re okay with being on a deserted island in the middle of nowhere where they could potentially die? Idk that was weird but they hopefully can just get off the island whenever they want.

JJ

My boy first, of course. He was as beautiful as always but I lowkey hate how they treated him this season. He was more of a comedic relief character than he was already in the first season with less iconic lines and even his friends treated him like a stupid child even though he had some great input. Yes of course he is a reckless character that fucks shit up quite some time but he is still the most loyal of them all. He would willingly go to jail and die for them and yet, I feel like they don’t appreciate him enough. Now that Luke is gone too, he’s basically homeless without a legal guardian and he only has his found family. Please treat him better and please give him some actual character development next season, thanks.

John B

I’m really conflicted about him. He is fucking stupid sometimes but then again he is a good guy. He can be such a good but also such a shitty (boy)friend. Idk man, I like watching him but sometimes someone needs to slap some sense into him. I’m glad he is doing okay and I’m really curious to see what Season 3 has in store for him.

Pope

I’m so happy he got more storyline this season. Who would have thought he would have such a great family tree? He for sure didn’t haha. I’m glad he wasn’t just a full nerd all the time and actually got into a few fights. He deserved the screen time and Jonathan did a wonderful job portraying him. I feel really bad that he didn’t get a single thing this season. No gold, no cross, no Kie. 

Kiara

Eh, I can't get to vibe with her this season. Most of the time she was just stupid, running around yelling dumb stuff, treating her parents and especially Pope like shit. We all knew that Pope and Kiara wouldn’t be together for long but honestly girl, what was that? Flirting with him but never reacting when he tried stuff, then having sex with him, knowing full well he has feelings for you and then just dumping him? Nah girl, that’s not it. You’re better off at boarding school.

Sarah

Poor baby girl. You deserve better, why are they putting you in so much pain? Honestly, first she’s getting kidnapped, then she’s a fugitive at the brink of death multiple times, she watches her father explode into pieces in front of her only to get kidnapped again to find out that he’s alive and still wants to take her with him AND THEN HE TRIES TO KILL HIS OWN DAUGHTER? Girl needs therapy, I’m telling you. She had already been so conflicted in season one and season two didn’t make it any better. Give her a break, please.

Rafe

He can still go choke. For real. Like, we know that he’s apparently been turning into a psychopath since he was ten and Ward only pushed him further to the brink. Don’t get me wrong, it was amazing to see how he was spiraling during the season, how he was losing his mind more and more and Drew did that so well but god, he did it so well that I just want Rafe to die.

Topper

This is a quick one. I was really hoping for a good redemption arc and he kind of started to get one but then his unhealthy Sarah obsession kicked and I was like nah boy, get the fuck away from the Pogues, thanks. Let’s see how it goes in the next season.

Side Characters

I’m too lazy to list more in detail. Ward is a shit but too smart for his own good. Rose is such a gold digger but she really loves her family. Wheezie is the MVP and she deserves to be with her sister in peace. Kiara’s parents...I feel bad for them, they just want the best for her kid but get treated like shit. I also feel bad for Mr. Heyward who is so worried about Pope without really knowing anything. I’m glad Shoupe came around in the end, there’s some good cop in him. Luke is still a shit father and I’m glad he’s gone but for some reason I doubt this was the last time we’ve seen him.

Overall

The season started off quite slow but as soon as the Pogues were united again I started to get the vibe back. My favourite was probably the middle part of part 4,5,6. The ending was a little too crazy for my taste but it wasn’t bad in general.

I’d give this season a 7/10. There’s a lot of things to improve and things I’m looking forward the next season, hopefully with more development for JJ and some therapy for Sarah.

[obsidianfr3sk]

Rise of the Renegades (Chapter 5)

Summary:  Heroes come from the most unexpected places. Heroes sometimes feel a little too different, a little too scared, a little too alone. But heroes also know when enough is enough, and that before saving the world, they need to save themselves. And they cannot do it alone.

They were going to be the hope of the world. They were going to call themselves the Renegades. Even if they didn’t know it yet.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26246812/chapters/65295007

This week I had multiple proyects and tests. Also I had this... kinda atack and I got completely obssesed with a movie saga and posted several insta stories about it so it was kinda hard find a space to write lol BUT I POST EVERY THRUSDAY SO HERE I AM. Sorry this is shorter than usual hehe

Hope you like it:) Let’s see what this kids are up to.

Thanks for the reblogs and the likes!

Tag list: @nodrianbcyes @healing-winston-pratt @bluraspberryoff-secretary @aceandnebula @cerenoya @cindersnightmare @plain-jane-mclain (don’t worry, take your time to read it!)

A peculiar monster

Who would you live and die for on that list?

But the problem is, there's another list that exists,

and no one really wants to think about this.

Forget sanity, forget salary, forget vanity, my morality.

If you get in between someone I love and me,

you're gonna feel the heat of my cavalry.

Simon

Simon ran for a good two minutes before finding a place to stop. He turned the corner in the second alley he found and collapsed behind the largest trash can he found, dropping his backpack next to him. Simon wiped the cold sweat on the sleeve of his jacket. It had been a long time since he ran that much.

However, compared to the relief he felt, the fatigue was hardly noticeable.

They were safe.

He turned to his right, ready to tell Hugh that they were never going to go back to that damn store when he realized he was alone.

Completely alone.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

In the street, there were a couple of homeless guys, an old man talking to himself, a dirty-looking child…

Hugh was nowhere to be found.

Simon hid again. His heart was beginning to beat unnaturally, and he couldn't feel his arms or legs. He tried to breathe but instead started to hyperventilate.

Tears were beginning to pool in his eyes.

He pulled his hair. Simon didn't want to cry. Only weak men cried and he was not weak.

Right?

He covered his mouth to hide his sobs.

Simon was weak. And selfish. And an idiot. And a fucking coward.

Why didn't he look back? Why didn't he take a moment to make sure Hugh was following him?

Weak and selfish. And an idiot. And a coward.

The Roaches were going to finish off Hugh. They would kidnap him, force him to join their gang, and he wouldn't be able to return to his normal life. Simon would never see him again and it would haunt him the rest of his days knowing that he could have done something and he didn't.

It was his fault. If only they had stayed to fight...

They probably would have been killed. There was no doubt about that. However, if they died, at least Simon could have taken his friend by the hand and thank him for believing in him. That the only thing he liked about being a prodigy was that it gave him the chance to meet him and that he was going to consider him his best friend even after all came to an end.

Because nothing and no one could ever end with what they had. Not the Roaches, not Ace Anarchy… not even death itself.

The two of them dying together sounded better than one of them dying alone.

He looked at his hands. They were invisible.

Hugh must have been so scared… Simon was fucking scared to death.

The boy he had seen on the sidewalk a few moments ago entered the alley. He was wearing cotton pants and shoes that did not fit him well. A gray cap covered his entire head.

Children shouldn't be alone in this part of town, he knew that from experience. If they were unsupervised, an idiot like Freud would probably come along and hunt them down for a long time with the sole purpose of killing them, and—

Then Simon remembered that in one of the pockets of his school bag, he carried a jackknife.

That jackknife.

The boy began to search the garbage.

It might be too broken to stab someone, but it was worth a try. Being invisible, he could take them by surprise. Simon would stand right in front of them and stick the jackknife in their eyes, one by one. None of them would understand what the hell was going on and when they finally figured it out... it would be too late to fight back.

The boy put his hands in his pockets and sighed wearily.

What if Simon arrived too late?

He banished that thought from his head immediately. For the sake of those Roaches, he wished he didn’t arrive late.

Simon was more than aware of his limitations. However, he was willing to ignore all that just to kill whoever dared to hurt him.

He still couldn't feel his hands when he reached for his backpack. Immediately, he realized the boy had been in front of him all that time. His little green eyes were fixed on Simon's. He wiped his tears, but then remembered there was no point.

He couldn't see him.

The kid took a few steps towards him. His eyes didn't move.

Wait.

Simon reached out his hand to touch him.

Or can you?

Then— the boy took the backpack and fled.

It all happened so fast that for a second, Simon wondered if it was worth following him. It was his school backpack. He was going to drop out anyway. If Hugh did it, so would he.

Hugh.

It was that thought that made him stand up and chase the thief.

The jackknife was in his backpack. He needed that jackknife.

He needed his friend alive.

Evander

He wasn't quite sure why he started running when he grabbed the backpack. Maybe it was because he felt guilty about stealing it but the truth was that he didn't. If someone had left it there, it was because they didn't want it.

Evander did want it. So he grabbed it. It was a fair deal.

He wanted it because inside of it there could be anything. It was a treasure chest, like the ones from the stories Kasumi told him. There could be food, or medicine, or toys. A year ago, he had been so lucky that he found a backpack with a bag of marbles hidden under a pile of adult clothing. Unfortunately, he had never been lucky enough to find the treasure of a retired mobster, who was sorry for his old habits and decided to abandon all his money on the street, in the hope of rehabilitating himself.

Someday he would. That day could be today. One never knew.

No, he had fled, because he had the feeling that someone was watching him. He didn't know how, he didn't know from where, but someone was watching him. If Kasumi had been there, she would have told him that it was his parents watching him from the stars. But Evander knew his parents weren’t looking at him.

When his parents looked at him from the stars, it was always with love, even when they reprimanded him for doing something wrong. Every time Evander was about to talk back to Kasumi, every time he was going to take something that clearly belonged to someone else even though he didn't need it, or every time he was going to be rude to a stranger just because he was having a bad day, his parents frowned at him and prevented Evander from doing so.

Because they loved him. Even from the stars, they loved him.

That look was nothing like his parents'. That one was full of terror, anger, and resentment.

But who’s gaze was that?

He kept running.

Was it someone from the stars?

No, that didn't make sense. Only good people were in the stars.

He stopped in the next alley, a few blocks away. Evander looked back.

No one was following him.

He swallowed. The backpack was heavier than he expected. He sat it on the ground and rubbed his hands together before carefully opening it.

Please make it the treasure of a retired mobster who is remorseful for his actions.

They were books. What a nerd.

He wished books were food.

Despite his disappointment, he hugged the backpack like it was a teddy bear. If he had learned anything in all that time, it was that there was nothing they couldn't take advantage of. Maybe those books became decorations. Or they could be a new source of stories. Or maybe they could actually eat then...

Then, a hand took off his cap. He screamed in horror.

All of his red hair was exposed.

Evander felt chills immediately.

They were going to recognize him. They were going to know it was him.

He turned around, still holding the backpack. Suddenly, an older boy materialized in front of him and tried to snatch it from him.

They struggled for a while. Evander didn't know if he was too strong or the boy was too weak.

His hands were beginning to ache...

“GIVE ME MY BACKPACK!”

The backpack broke. The older boy fell backwards and Evander hit his nose on the floor. Lots of notebooks, books, and loose sheets of paper were blown up like an explosion.

Evander's eyes were watery and his body was aching. To his right, he found a closed jackknife. The older boy was still trying to recover from the blow when Evander took it and he opened it.

He had never held a jackknife before.

Evander pointed at the older boy just as he sat down. “Leave me alone!” he screamed. “Go away!”

But his words only made him more enraged. The boy grunted and stretched out his hand.

He was going to take him. Evander was convinced that he was going to take him.

“I am Thomas Freud!”

He froze. “Thomas Freud?”

“Yes!” Evander screeched. “Yes, I am Thomas Freud! Don't come near me!”

I’m not Evander Jr. I swear, I am not Evander Jr. I am not the one you’re looking for. Please just leave me alone.

He ignored him and reached out again. Evander slashed his palm slightly and the monster swore underneath. “LEAVE ME ALONE!”

“I know you are not Thomas Freud!” he shouted.

His throat went dry at that moment. “No, I am! I swear! That’s my name!”

“It is not true!” he answered, pointing at him with his finger. “I know that because I met Thomas Freud and I hope he is rotting in the last circle of hell!”

He couldn't take it anymore.

Evander broke.

He knew it. That boy, that monster knew. He knew who he really was, he knew what he had done, he knew they were looking for him. The monster was going to take him to the other monsters. They would kill him as they had killed his parents, Mama Bertha… they would go after Kasumi too. They were going to kill her too and everything would have been his fault.

Everything was always his fault.

The monster snatched the jackknife from him with a slap.

He knew immediately what was next.

“Please …” he mumbled. “Don’t hurt me please…”

The monster lost its enraged expression immediately. He blinked hard and looked at him like it was the first time he had. His face twitched, but Evander's gaze was so clouded by tears that he couldn't make out what he was feeling.

He looked at the jackknife. He looked at the street. And then he looked at him.

“Please…”

Please let me live one more day, Mr. Monster.

The monster took off his jacket and put it under Evander's nose. “Raise your head,” he asked. “It's just ... your nose is bleeding.”

Evander looked down at his pants. It had tiny drops of blood on it.

He raised his head.

The monster's jacket smelled like mud and like the peppermint tea Mama Bertha used to drink at night.

That was weird. That was not how he remembered monsters smelled.  Monsters smelled of garbage, rocks, and fire. They didn’t smell, like… good. Nor did they speak with such a soft voice, or had traces of tears on their cheeks.

It was a... peculiar monster.

After a minute, the monster put his jacket back on. He still had the cap that he had ripped from his head in his hand. Evander took it without warning and quickly put it back on, making sure not a single red hair was visible. He dusted his hands with dirt from the floor and rubbed them over his face to cover his freckles.

The monster stared at him for a few more seconds. He didn't say anything else and left.

Evander smiled. With his cap and his freckles covered, he didn't recognize him anymore.

What an idiot monster.

But a monster after all.

Kasumi was in the lair. Whenever one went out, the other stayed to watch that no one went in while they were gone.

She was extremely calm, sitting on the mat, daydreaming.

She was fine.

Evander ran to hug her. Kasumi was startled by it but returned the hug. Immediately, she felt something was wrong.

Kasumi took him by the cheeks. “Vandy, are you all right?” she asked him. “Did someone hurt you?”

Evander shook his head. “Then what’s—”

"I saw a monster today,” he replied. Kasumi shuddered. She moistened her hands and tried to wipe the dirt off his face. “No, don’t. When I covered my freckles, he left. Dirt saved me.”

Kasumi removed her hands from his cheeks. “A monster, huh? Like the ones we’re afraid of?”

He shook his head again. “He wasn't wearing any red. But he was a monster. You have to believe me, he was a monster.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “I believe you, Vandy.”

Kasumi leaned on the wall so that Evander could sit between her legs and lay his head on her chest. The afternoon sun came through the glassless window and warmed his face with its light. She stroked his hair. Kasumi knew how much it calmed them both to do that. “What was this monster like? Did... they had wings?”

“Wings? No, no, no wings. It was... tall," he recalled. “He wanted the backpack, but when he could take it, he didn't. His hair was curly and… he had cried.”

Kasumi stroked her chin. “Hmm, I see. I think I've heard of those kinds of monsters.”

“Are there many kinds of monsters?” Evander asked in amazement.

“Yes,” Kasumi replied. “But you don't have to worry about them.”

“How are you so sure?”

She bit her lip and looked around as if she was afraid someone might overhear. Finally, when she made sure no one else paid attention to them, Kasumi whispered, “Because monsters are afraid of candy.”

Evander allowed himself to laugh a little. “Of candy? What a bunch of idiots, who is afraid of candies?”

“Monsters only.”

He was about to laugh again when he remembered a small detail. “But we don't have candy,” he stressed. “Or do you have a secret reserve you haven't told me about?”

“Well, I don't have candy, that’s right.” Kasumi took him by the hands. They were still stained with dried blood. “But you do, Vandy. Here. Inside you.”

Then he remembered.  “Candy for the soul.”

Kasumi nodded and rested her chin on his shoulder.  “Next time a monster tries to hurt you, you attack it with candy.”

He looked at his hands for a moment more. “Is that why you never use your powers against monsters? Because you know they’re immune to them?”

He felt his friend's body shudder again. “Yes, that’s why.”

“And is that why I could defeat the monster from that night? The night of the attack?”

“Yes. That’s why.”

A spark of pride touched his heart. No one else and no one less than him had managed to end a monster attacking him with his worst nightmare. And he hadn't even known until now.

But the spark of pride was quickly extinguished when he realized that there were still many monsters out there. And that he was never going to be big and powerful enough to kill them all.

[cayenne-twilight]

A fic about Uncle Randall interacting with Flora and/or Kat and Alfendi?

Flora peered dreamily out the car window, as she usually did when she could actually convince the Professor to take her places. Three days ago she organized a persuasive presentation proving that she was responsible and capable enough to accompany him on his trip to the city of Monte D’Or. It took informative posters on an easel and ten minutes worth of speaking, but soon enough Flora was packing her bags. Of course, by the Professor’s earnest recommendation, she regretfully pruned her luggage down to one suitcase and one duffel bag. Packing lightly may be befitting of a gentleman, Professor, but not a lady. Am I supposed to wear the same outfit in the morning AND the evening?

She watched the view transition from the metropolis near the airport to rusty desert. Apparently one of the Professor’s secondary school friends built the city, and the rest of their clique lived there as well. He always associated with the most curious people. Flora couldn’t help but imagine what the Professor must have been like as a teenager. Was he already obsessed with being the perfect gentleman, or did he act a tad immature at times like Luke did? Was he in the robotics club like she was now? And what sort of friends did he spend time with? She heard him mention some names over the phone with Emmy, but what were they like? She imagined a bunch of history nerds discussing the Azran over tea. Did they all wear top hats as well? Flora suppressed a giggle at the mental image.

“This is no Laytonmobile, but it has been keeping up just fine,” Layton said. The rental car was a much more modern model than his beloved little Citroen. With its neutral paint job and contemporary luxury features, the Professor almost seemed out of his element driving it. Flora would never say it out loud, but she preferred this car to his usual rickety ride, although she could admit it had its own brand of charm.

“So you’re visiting your old friend to share your findings on the Azran?” Flora asked, hoping to get more out of him than the last two times she asked this question.

“In part. Ever since- well. For the past few years my good friend Randall has had an aversion to the Azran despite his interest in the civilization in our youth. Recently, though, the spark seems to have reignited. I’m bringing over the thesis I published as well as Desmond’s, who turned down the invitation to come here seeing as his relationship with Randall is rocky. (I believe I will force them to reconcile one of these days.) The timing of it all is really quite queer now that neither Desmond nor I want anything to do with Azran research.”

“Wow. It took you two whole years to get your paper published and you aren’t even interested in the topic anymore?” Flora couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be so spontaneous. If she were to write an entire academic thesis, it would be on a topic she would never get tired of learning more about.

The Professor said nothing. He just drove on along the dusty road until Monte D’Or was visible in the distance like an island surrounded by all this empty sand. As they pulled closer Flora marveled at the flamboyant hotels and casinos. Up until recently she felt like a tourist in her own city, but this was the real deal.

Flora sat on a couch in the Reunion Inn lobby while the Professor checked in and arranged for their luggage to be brought up. She could hardly call this an inn. The establishment Beatrice ran was an inn. This place was massive enough to house all the residents of her little village.

“Now that that’s settled, my dear, let’s head down to the Ledore mansion to say hello. I’ll introduce you to my old friends.”

Flora nearly fell over because of the way she was trying to absorb every detail of her surroundings. She heard there was supposed to be an absolutely darling parade on this street at night, and she asked if they planned on watching it.

“Ah, I remember the parade from the last time I visited. They run it once a week, but it feels awfully special when you’re a tourist. Of course we’ll see it,” Layton said.

He rang the doorbell to the mansion, and a woman with blonde hair done up in curls answered, “Hershel!”

“It’s good to see you, Angela. Have you three been well?”

“Yes, of course. And you must be Miss Flora,” she said, extending a hand. Flora shook it. “I’ll call Randall and get Henry to set the kettle for tea. Make yourselves at home.”

The Professor took a seat on the expansive couch, sorting through the folder he brought along, while Flora examined a curio cabinet set into the wall. Randall must collect these pieces of archeological memorabilia, all sorts of carved pots and ancient coins and whatnot. She remembered talking to Luke’s father about how there was more of this stuff out there than one might think, hence how much of the museum’s collection was archived.

“HERSHEL!” a man with slicked back red hair and glasses entered with his arms outstretched. The Professor turned his hug into a handshake.

“I must admit, I missed this Randall,” the Professor said.

“And which one might that be?”

“The one that would rather excavate cities than bury them-“

“Oh bug off, Hersh.” Randall turned to Flora. “You must be the girl from the robot town.”

“Um. Yes I suppose that is me.”

“I’d love to visit one day. How do they work? I hear they’re indistinguishable from humans! Are they modeled after the ancient golems?”

“Leave her be, Randall. So what have you been up to these days? Not farming, I presume.”

“No, not quite,” he laughed. “That’s just the thing. Angela and Henry have the mayoral duties covered, and I don’t think they would want me to intervene anyways. And I’d make an awful stay at home husband.”

“He would,” Angela and Henry said in unison. Henry carried a platter with tea to the coffee table and poured five cups.

“You haven’t done the one thing I asked you to do today,” Henry said.

Randall stared blankly. “And what might that have been?” He smiled like a child caught in a lie.

Angela facepalmed. “Do you even enter the kitchen? The sink is piled up with dishes. I hate to grill you in front of guests, but if you won’t help out around the house in the slightest, you better get a full time job.”

“Yes, about that. I was thinking of curating the Monte D’Or museum. We have an impressive painting gallery, but I think it could do with a more historical exhibit. The city itself is quite new, but the area is rich in Azran history.”

“Well I think that’s a splendid idea,” Layton said. I do hope my research will be of help to you.”

Layton left with Angela and Henry to their office where they showed him the building plans for a new designer brand shopping mall. Randall remained on the couch, essays in hand, until his attention span promptly gave out ten seconds later. He looked to Flora, who was inspecting a still life on the wall.

“You haven’t even touched your tea yet,” He said.

“Ah. I didn’t realize Henry brought some for me too.”

“How’s Hersh been as a dad?”

Flora looked a bit startled. “A dad? Gee, I don’t know if that’s quite right. He’s more like a foster parent, really. I’m not sure how much you heard about his trip to my village, but when he arrived to solve a treasure hunt he wasn’t expecting to bring me home instead.”

“I did hear about the hunt your father arranged. I’m sorry for your loss, by the way.”

“It's been sort of a long time, but thank you.”

Randall’s eyebrows arched since Layton told him the Baron was recently departed. He didn’t pry in fear of touching on a sore subject. “Have you been liking the city life more so than the village?”

“I’m glad the Professor lives on a relatively quiet street, and I do like secondary school more than reading textbooks on my own. Quite frankly, it’s been hard for me to adjust to social situations, but I like working with my classmates more than studying alone.”

“And I gather you’ll be going to college not too far from now. Do you know what you’re going to take in uni? Not to alarm you, I’m sure you get asked that a lot these days.”

“That’s tricky. I was thinking maybe software engineering? Or robotics. Or perhaps criminology as well? I’d like to take some sort of design course if there’s room in my schedule, but at this rate there might not be.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon enough. You know, I don’t believe I actually ever finished my compulsory education because I fell into that chasm. No matter, trade skills served me well enough.”

“You what?”

“Look, it’s already gotten dark out. We should leave right about now if you want to catch the parade.”

Flora, Randall, Layton, Angela, and Henry left the mansion and made their way to the crowded sidewalk of the boulevard where many visitors awaited the procession. The sound of brass instruments pealed from the distance, followed by the drumming and jangling of marching band music. Flora clasped her hands and leaned forward, trying to gauge where the start of the parade was.

Squadrons of dancers and acrobats dressed up as suits of cards waltzed around the pavement, doing flips and spinning batons. The crowd cheered as they quickly assembled into a human pyramid and gracefully collapsed like dominoes. The marching band followed, and Flora had to cover her ears when they were right in front of them. Four floats rode by, driven by characters resembling the jacks, queens, and kings of each suit. They waved and popped confetti at the viewers. Finally, the giant clown balloon glided forward, attached to an equally large float. It looked like a tiered cake, with dancers standing on each level moving in perfect unison.

“You know, the performers on the clown float are all animatronics,” Randall yelled over the blaring band.

“For real?” Flora responded. “But they’re moving so naturally! It’s hard to believe they’re not human!”

“You’re one to doubt it, having grown up with robots. The float is actually an optical illusion in a sense. In reality, dancers on the top are a lot larger than the ones on the bottom, and same with the height of the platforms, but because of our perspective they look the same.”

“Really?” Flora shouted. “That’s so cool! Can I get a closer look at them another time?”

“Of course!” Randall yelled back. “I can take you to the garage tomorrow.”

The eardrum-shattering upbeat music faded, and the crowd began to disperse.

“Did the parade meet your expectations, my dear? Layton asked.

“I believe it surpassed them!” Flora responded.

They parted ways with Randall, Angela, and Henry and headed back to the Reunion Inn for the night.

“You told me you and Randall used to be best friends, but you drifted apart.”

“Yes, that is true. Why do you bring that up?”

“Well I think you should mend that friendship. He seems like a swell guy after all.”

Layton smiled. “Is that so? In any case, you are correct. I should make an effort to reconnect with him. Maybe I should challenge him to a sparring match like those from our youth. He was awfully quick, but now that he’s rusty I bet I stand a good chance.”

“Randall fences?”

“Yes. In fact he’s the one who got me interested in the sport myself. He also sparked my interest in archeology.”

“Wow. I didn’t realize the impression he made on you was so big.”

“That’s not all, he also introduced me to the world of puzzles.”

“RANDALL is the one who got you hooked on puzzles?!” Flora exclaimed. She should be trying to make friends like these in secondary school herself. Even if it’s just through impact on one’s character, friends really had the potential to last forever, huh.

@101flavoursofweird

[txgoldn]

Yoonmin Fic Rec #2

Math Tutor by springrain21

Min Yoongi is the school's resident Bad Boy™. He's covered in tattoos, is pierced, curses like a sailor, smokes like crazy, doesn't give a shit about anything, possesses a hot temper that has people steering clear of him, and is desperately in love with Park Jimin, the adorable math nerd. When Jimin is tasked with tutoring Yoongi in math, who is in danger of failing the class and being held back a year, both boys are hesitant. Yoongi because he can't think straight around the boy with startling red hair, and Jimin because Yoongi is scary as hell and looks like he can easily kill someone. Gradually, though, the two grow closer, and Jimin finds that Yoongi is nothing like how he'd imagined.

Language:English Words:11,736 Chapters:5/5

You're An Asshole, Min Yoongi by springrain21

Park Jimin is in love with Min Yoongi. Who just so happens to be the biggest asshole in the entire school. He's emotionless, rude, aloof, and couldn't care less about anyone other than himself. Can Jimin break through Yoongi's cold exterior and get to know the man within? Can he thaw the boy's icy heart, or will Jimin get his own broken instead?

Language:English Words:13,681 Chapters:6/6

Soul Bond by springrain21

Everyone is born with a Soulmate, but not everyone gets to meet their other half in their lifetime. Twenty one year old Park Jimin suspects he will never meet his Soulmate. When he accidentally makes skin-to-skin contact with the cold, distant Min Yoongi, he discovers that the two of them are Soulmates. But what happens when Yoongi doesn't even believe in Soulmates? Will Jimin develop the deadly condition known as Soul Sickness? And will Yoongi make it in time to save him?

Language:English Words:26,602 Chapters:10/10

Aeonian by springrain21

aeonian (adj.) [ee-oh-nee-uhn] eternal; everlasting.

In the year 1304 A.D., tensions between the Vampires and the Lycans are at an all time high. Min Yoongi is the Captain of the Death Dealers and the most elite of the Vampires' protectors. Over the long years of his life, Yoongi has grown unemotional and apathetic, no longer interested in feeling emotions. When the human nobles come to visit, Yoongi meets Park Jimin, the youngest son of a baron, and his whole life changes. Suddenly Jimin is the most important thing in his world, and Yoongi will do anthing to protect him.

Language:English Words:54,422 Chapters:3/3

The Devil's Mistress by springrain21

Yoongi is Captain of the pirate ship, the Devil's Mistress, and he and his crew are racing against time to find a famous buried treasure, always one step behind and losing it to another rival ship. To gain the upper hand, Yoongi kidnaps a silver-haired beauty who is rumored to be a creature of great power. He isn't expecting to fall in love on the way.

Language:English Words:16,473 Chapters:4/4

The Scent Of You by springrain21

Yoongi's life as the palace healer is turned upside down when he meets the werewolf Jimin. There's an inexplicable attraction that Yoongi tries to fight at first, before Jimin worms his way into his heart and changes his mind. Will they be able to be together or will forces stronger than them tear them apart?

Language:English Words:32,635 Chapters:8/8

You Are My Sunshine by springrain21

Jimin has had a crush on Yoongi ever since he became a hunter, but Yoongi wants nothing to do with him. When a hunting mission goes wrong and Yoongi is turned into a baby by an angry witch, Jimin volunteers to take care of him. As days pass in the care of Jimin, Yoongi, still fully aware in his baby body, realizes how kind and beautiful he is and begins to fall for Jimin. But time is running out for the other guys to break the curse, and if they fail, Yoongi will be stuck as a baby forever.

Language:English Words:17,747 Chapters:1/1

Ruby Red by springrain21

Every three years when the blood moon comes around, in order to keep it appeased and to keep it from killing, the town must sacrifice the fairest young man or woman to a vampire that has been haunting them for centuries. Sent to where the vampire lives on the edge of town in an old, ancient manor, those who go through the front doors are never seen or heard from again.

This year, it's Park Jimin's turn.

But is the vampire more than he seems? And are there much more mysterious forces at work? Forces that could either bring Jimin and Yoongi together or tear them apart forever?

Language:English Words:43,545 Chapters:1/1

little scarlet, starlet by sugahikikomori

It’s not surprising that Yoongi’s boss’ son, Jimin, is a rich, spoiled brat. Though, it does come as a surprise when he comes to Yoongi for an internship, and that he begs to be Yoongi’s little boy.

Language:English Words:15,527 Chapters:1/1

laid bare, laid open, & laid by sugahikikomori

Yoongi's quick to deflect this motion, has his hand around Jimin's wrist, out of his boxers, and pressed into the mattress.

"Stop," Yoongi tells him, "you can't do shit like this, Jimin." He's serious. He doesn't want to play this game, this game where he's vulnerable to a fucking omega.

"Hyung," Jimin whines, voice high and so soft, "I just wanted to take care of you." He doesn't struggle against the hand that's still pinning him down, like he likes it, maybe. "Why don't you want to use me?"

Language:English Words:5,563 Chapters:1/1

[daleisgreat]

Man vs. Snake: The Long and Twisted Tale of Nibbler

I am a huge fan of the classic 2007 documentary, King of Kong, that saw two arcade players vying for the all-time Donkey Kong high score. Last year I was visiting a bunch of friends at a retro gaming convention and while hanging out after the con, one of them suggested to throw on today’s entry, 2015’s Man vs. Snake: The Long and Twisted Tale of Nibbler (trailer) on in the background. I had no idea what it was and immediately focused all attention upon it once I realized it focused on the same premise of two old-school arcade players chasing down the top score for another 80’s arcade game, Nibbler. It is not from the same directorial crew of King of Kong, but is shot in a similar style and shares a few supporting cast interviewees from King of Kong such as videogame high-score gatekeeper Walter Day and the controversial Billy Mitchell. Being a huge fan of King of Kong I was stunned Man vs. Snake went three years going off my radar. I listen to several videogame podcasts and keep up with the gaming press online and on social media seemingly daily and somehow this one slipped by me for three years. Upon getting minutes into the documentary I was doubly stunned that I had never once heard of or seen footage before of the 1982 arcade game, Nibbler this documentary is centering its high score chase on. The two creators of Nibbler, Joseph Ulowetz & John Jaugilas, are interviewed and explained how the game essentially came and went with middling sales and no real lasting power in the arcade scene at the time. If you are in my age range in your 30s you likely first experienced a variant of Nibbler more commonly known as Snake in the late 90s on either flash-based gaming websites, TI graphic calculators or simple black-and-green Nokia cell phones of that timeframe. I never recalled once seeing this in arcades and much-appreciated the history lesson. The two creators are only shown briefly in several excerpts, but they have an uncut 15 minute interview in the bonus material worth seeing because both of them go in-depth about how Nibbler came to be, crazy office stories and revealing the reason behind some of its gameplay secrets.

The two high score-chasers Man vs. Snake is centered around is Tim McVey (no, not the one you are thinking of) and Dwayne Richard. The documentary kicks off with exquisite animation sequences reminiscent of the style in Bob’s Burgers detailing how McVey originally posted the first official billion point game in Nibbler and procured the world record. Billy Mitchell is interviewed here elucidating the story because he is a real-life friend of Tim’s and witnessed him post that original record score. McVey was dethroned not too long later by an Italian, Enrico Zanetti, who is also interviewed and has his own unique tale on how his record stood for over 25 years. The animation featured in the opening and in a handful of other sporadic scenes throughout the film is incredibly impressive and is a worthy substitute for a lack of TV footage from that time. Flash forward to the late 2000s and the doc does a great job at detailing the impetus for what drove Tim and Dwayne to start competing against each other to set a new world record. A standout scene is showing clips and recapping how Dwayne & Tim compete against each other at MAGfest one year and the highs and lows of that public event. Later the focus switches to Dwayne & Tim’s own personal livestream attempts to try and break the world record and the stress of being filmed throughout the whole ordeal. McVey is featured more prominently throughout along with his wife and the film reeled me in for the agony of defeat as Tim went through all kinds of failed attempts due to several different type of circumstances. Both McVey and Richard have their feel good moments, and like King of Kong their successes did not go without controversy. Walter Day is the ever-present authoritative figure throughout with his trademark referee shirt just like we remember him from King of Kong. For fans of that documentary, you may recall it shares a couple glimpses of Walter’s unique personal life, and just some forewarning that Man vs. Snake dives a little deeper into Day’s lifestyle in a couple of scenes and it goes places I did not expect.

Also worth noting is that the DVD has both a censored and uncensored version available. I watched the uncensored version and what stood out from that is a couple of interview subjects being unfiltered at times and a couple graphic blister scenes due to playing Nibbler nonstop for over a day. For other extra features there are a total of 50 minutes of bonus scenes and that is where you can find the aforementioned interview with the two creators of the game. Other recommended cutting room floor scenes are more in-depth recaps of a couple of McVey’s failed attempts that did not get highlighted in the feature and a interview with another arcade score-chaser, Rick Carter, on his memories of trying to dethrone the Nibbler world record. There is also an audio commentary with directors Andrew Seklir and Tim Kinzy which is worth checking out because they have nonstop insight and facts on tracking down interview subjects, acquiring archival footage and discovering which interviewees they have fond and/or disdainful memories of throughout the production process. Man vs. Snake reminded a lot of why I loved King of Kong. I would rank it a notch or two under King of Kong because Man vs. Snake does not have the convenient hero/villain dynamic of Wiebe and Mitchell as McVey and Richard are both affable and positive figures to root for throughout. It also does not helps that King of Kong is based on one of the most popular arcade games of that era while Man vs. Snake focuses on one that I had no idea existed until I saw the film. Do not let that sway you from avoiding Man vs. Snake because it is still a vastly fascinating and entertaining documentary worth going out of your way to see. Other Random Backlog Movie Blogs 3 12 Angry Men (1957) 12 Rounds 3: Lockdown 21 Jump Street The Accountant Angry Video Game Nerd: The Movie Atari: Game Over The Avengers: Age of Ultron The Avengers: Infinity War Batman: The Killing Joke Batman: Mask of the Phantasm Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice Bounty Hunters Cabin in the Woods Captain America: Civil War Captain America: The First Avenger Captain America: The Winter Soldier Christmas Eve Clash of the Titans (1981) Clint Eastwood 11-pack Special The Condemned 2 Countdown Creed Deck the Halls Die Hard Dredd The Eliminators The Equalizer Dirty Work Faster Fast and Furious I-VIII Field of Dreams Fight Club The Fighter For Love of the Game Good Will Hunting Gravity Guardians of the Galaxy Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2 Hercules: Reborn Hitman Indiana Jones 1-4 Ink The Interrogation Interstellar Jobs Joy Ride 1-3 Major League Man of Steel Man on the Moon Marine 3-6 Metallica: Some Kind of Monster Mortal Kombat National Treasure National Treasure: Book of Secrets The Replacements Reservoir Dogs Rocky I-VII Running Films Part 1 Running Films Part 2 San Andreas ScoobyDoo Wrestlemania Mystery The Secret Life of Walter Mitty Shoot em Up Skyscraper Small Town Santa Steve Jobs Source Code Star Trek I-XIII Take Me Home Tonight TMNT The Tooth Fairy 1 & 2 UHF Veronica Mars Vision Quest The War Wild Wonder Woman The Wrestler (2008) X-Men: Apocalypse X-Men: Days of Future Past

[larenoz]

Roswell New Mexico - Live Rewatch - Ep 3 - Tearin' Up My Heart

What matters is the science

The power to heal or harm. Hhhhmm, I wonder who else that might apply to in the future?

Hey lab rat!

Subtle, Liz. Real subtle.

No, he's not just stressed Liz

It's all a plan to get Max to get his gear off.

His heart isn't racing because he's scared of Liz. Neither of these people has a subtle bone in their body.

Die Jesse Manes Die

Hey there Kyle.

Alien hunting buddy, four war hero sons.

"Are you calling Alex faint of heart?" You go Kyle.

Die Jesse Manes Die

See now I think this is where Jesse made his biggest mistake. Threatening Kyle's life is one thing, but threatening his friends. That just kicks his protective side into high gear. Especially when it comes to ALex who he feels he owes. Probably gets his competitive side going as well

OMG Kyles face as Jesse walks away.

"I don't need an Airman, I need a Valenti"

"The light show whenever I feel anything" Yeah, we know what your talking about Max

Yeah, we know why you didn't Iz and Michael about the experiments.

So that's a yes then.

"Please don't touch me". Oh, that's gonna hurt the feels

Busted. Not sure how I feel about that shirt Iz is wearing though. I think we might be trying a bit too hard for the New Mexico aesthetic.

"We have a connection, we did, I think" Not too sure there Max

OK, now that's just mean Iz, with the Kyle/Liz hookup.

Especially when you know it's gonna hurt Max.

Now here we have on rewatch the first scene where I'm not sure if it's Iz or Noah??

Where she talks about his hand print on Liz's chest, just seems a bit Noah like??

Which would also explain the meanness?

Arguements about who knows each other best and relationships built on lies.

That's a set of criteria where everyone is on pretty shaken ground at this stage.

Max as golden retriever or X-file. Kyle being all caregivery. Fuck, I would give anything to see him in a nice white shirt. Sorry, I digress.

Provocation. Another theme we see again and again through the show.

Not a fan of this whole treasure hunt storyline tbh

Yes Kyle, we all love Max because he's tall.

OK Nancy Drew"

Fuck, you cannot just cut to THIS scene like that. Fuck me.

The song, the hand caressing that skin.

Fuuuuccck

Once again I am not emotionally prepared.

"Your awake"

"You staaayed"

God, such little dialogue that just tells us so much.

That Michael isn't used to Alex being there in the morning. That he leaves.

The way Michael looks over at Alex. So soft and happy.

Alex's barely there smile as he looks at Michael.

They just break my heart these two.

Fuck me.

The physical intimacy in this scene is just.... I don't even have words for it. It's so soft and gentle and ...

Michael's face.

It's just such an amazing scene especially for a queer couple.

The chemistry these two have as actors is insane.

God fucking damn it Isobel.

And fuck here it comes.

"it's just Isobel"

"Does she know about us?"

"would it be so bad if she did?"

"Yeah"

"Nah, don't worry about it"

Fuck me. Michael goes from being so happy to being someone's dirty little secret in seconds.

Now I'm pretty sure that's not what Alex thinks, but that's sure as shit how Michael interprets it.

All his insecurity and self-loathing just brings his armour back up.

oh shit yeah

It applies just as much to Alex as well.

The thing that hurts to the most is that Michael is so resigned to it. Like yep, this is how it always goes.

And I think that might apply to not just Alex, but other people he sleeps with. Good enough to fuck, but not good enough to be seen with. And that's just fucked up.

Especially for someone like Michael who is so tactile. That his way of connecting with people is so distained.

And Alex's face. He know's he's hurt Michael, even though that wasn't his intention.

But as they say, about paving the road to hell.

Tbh honest, I didn't notice until it was discussed in another channel that this ISN'T the morning after "I never look away" and that the Airstream has moved.

I blame opening the scene with all that golden skin. It's very distracting.

I offer that line as public domain to any fic writer that wants it!!

God how I hate that Michael is probably alot of people's dirty little secret. Fuck them.

"He's letting Liz experiment on him"

"Please say sexually"

Not gonna lie. THat is one of the best lines ever on tv.

Also Michael with no shirt.

Also if they ever get Michael in a nice white button up I'm gonna die.

Yes I have a white shirt kink.

Iz's face. :laughing:

Kids, kids kids. Have we learned nothing?

Plans involving Liz never end well.

Secrets, always about the secrets

Mix cd

Clues, Nancy Drew

Teen melodrama is our thing.

So cheeky Liz. It's a good look on you.

Liz is wearing armour lipstick.

Of course Maria is coming on the treasure hunt.

Cam buying Max a first edition. Nerd boner. Don't ever change Cam.

Max, max, max. It's not the time.

Don't dig into the past. HOld onto the good memories. Exactly the advice Kyle gave Liz last ep.

And he doesn't listen either. Lucky he's so pretty.

I really hope we get to see the hold your hair while puking, slash your exe's tires Rosa in S2. It's such a great description by Maria. Gives a great sense of the real Rosa.

"She's isn't what leftover in the dirty crevices of this town." That is such a great line - gives a great insight into Maria.

which in no way makes up for that fucking powder blue skivvy he wore!! Jesus that was ugly. So I need more white shirts to balance it out. Bonus points for linen.

But more likely on Kyle than Michael, not that I wouldn't be cool with that.

Ophiuchus

Liz's don't lie to me face.

And here we go with more heart break. THis show never stops.

I love so much that in this fandom a dark green and black flannel shirt is what constitutes the "slutty" outfit.

I love that he is alergic to buttons.

Scared of not being the number 1 person in Max's life. Tbh. he's not wrong.

Michael and his touching people to check in with them.

Annnd here comes the start of more pain.

Not to be shallow, but Alex's outfit in this scene is interesting. I know we haven't seen him in civies much yet, but even so this stands out. It's such a light palette. So different to the dark colours we've seen before and everything that we see him in after.

A reflection of the lightness he feels from reconnecting with Michael? That disappears after the drive in and never really returns for the rest of the season?

Maybe? I lean towards more unconscious choice.

A willingness to be seen?

Which then is picked up later with his "can't be seen with a criminal" comments.

?

Where he goes back to not standing out, even in civies

Gods, the looks on their faces. They just love each other so much but Alex is still struggling.

Alex's smile when Michael sits down.

Kyle you are so gonna get busted.

Your mum is the sheriff dude.

Seriously Max. take a fucking chill pill.

I know it's the overpower but seriously. How do people not notice?

Yes Kyle, this massive over reaction is about Liz.

OK, I know Kyle is doing it on purpose, but that is cold.

Kyle, Kyle, Kyle, alot of people want to hit you, don't encourage them.

And even if he was human Max has height and weight on him as well.

That smart arse smirk of Kyle's.

Damn, Jenna looks good with her hair like that.

Damn Kyles eyes.

And Kyle's little puff after Max leaves. He knows how close he came to getting his arse kicked in some way.

Die Jesse Manes Die.

Alex, ALex don't listen to the evil man. Please!!

And what about Michael, sitting so close to the man who mutilated him? Any person would have trouble keeping their cool.

Knowing Jesse is around is one thing, but what must it do to Micahel to see him like this?

"Can't lie to a psychic, hmm mmm"

Liz, spying on Max and Cam is a little bit creepy. Jealous much?

Not sure why Iz sees Rosa when trying to influence Liz??

Oh, Rosa's saying the lines she says to Iz later on after Noah is exposed.

Run and puke face.

Don't be a douche MIchael

Might not be a high school crush. More paralleling.

Max, don't be a dick to Cam. More than just try. And don't make it sound like a burden for fuck sakes.

"xenophobia sells more tickets"

I have Maria boot envy

And here comes the heartbreak

"I was dating a Chad"

"All the Chad's end up being Chad's"

That is some grade A dialogue right there.

Poor Diego

2 min break, I need a hot drink to stop myself coughing.

BRB

Could be. Might also be that Noah's blocks are weakening?

You go for it Cam.

Oh OK. Max you fucking dork.

OMG Liz, not cool.

Cam shutting this shit down right now.

Max making possibly the worst life choice ever seen on tv

Kyle Manuel Valenti!

And the most shit I'm busted face ever seen on a grown man.

Kyle why did you say love triangle? Don't say that.

Totally, he's hopeless but extra hopeless when your Mum is sheriff.

Sheriff Valenti has Jesse mans sussed out.

Tbh, I feel Max's pain as Liz reads out that letter. I found some stuff recently that I wrote at that age. OMFG, it was pretentious and oh so serious.

I like the hot sauce homage to OG

And then Liz just goes all in.

Don't do it Alex.

Fair warning I'm about to say some stuff about Alex that people might not like.

"I'm an airman, I can't be with a criminal".

Gods, Alex, no. You just let your Dad win.

You just told Michael he isn't important.

"All my life, the system has put me at the mercy of ciminals"

This line. FUck me.

Just another example of Michael flat out telling people the honest, painful, fucking private truth about his life and people then just blowing him off.

He just does it over and over again and then people have the fucking gall to say "we didn't know" How the fuck did you not know?

From anyone else it's bad but from Alex? Alex who knows Michael, who knows Michaels life, who has seen more of the cruelty of the world than anyone else in the show, from Alex it's a betrayal.

Yep, and using that as an excuse just compounds it. Because he's using the actions that Michael takes in order to survive against him. Compounds that betrayal.

And for me, if any action by Alex could be described as being a dick move, it's this one.

And I know why Alex does it, I really, really do, but fuck, it's still really, really bad.

And, And, all this happens in Michael's truck, his home, that Alex fucking knows he lived in during high school.

"Just trying to survive it"

Again, truth.

Not live, not escape. Survive.

Exactly.

Yes, he is Michael.

Fuck no, Alex. You don't get to say that. You don't get to blame Michael for your choices.

And Michael's sigh. Not even disappointed. Just resigned. Same ole, same ole.

Fair cop Liz. You don't really think Max killed Rosa.

But I'm also sorted glad they didn't make Liz into the sort of person who dismisses her own experience and world view just because she likes someone.

Max, it's not you place to decide what Liz can handle.

"That's what everything is about for me". Max, Max, Max. I'm impressed you could say that without coming off as a creepy stalker type.

You know what Max, now would be an excellent time to come clean about everything, just sayin'.

true

Noah, Noah

"I knew what I was marrying into" we now know what an understatement that was from Noah.

Gotta be honest, telling your husband that someone else is your person is a bit harsh.

You have two unhappy brothers Iz, pay attention.

True, but also Michael's abuser as well? I sort of read it as they both know the other isn't OK and they just don't talk about it with each other?

Noah, I'm trying really hard to block out that you are not a good guy.

Maria - "Max is so harmless" and Liz's face.

Kyle, Kyle, Kyle.

I really like how they actually have the smart person (a doctor) actaually be smart? He knows Jesse has power.

Paul Ryan comment

He cooperates just enough. Though I think part of that is he still doesn't trust Max.

Oh yeah

Max loosing his shit

Shut up Jesse, just shut the fuck up.

Yeah, not subtle but still good.

Overall not a bad episode.

As I said, not really a fan of the treasure hunt storyline.

I'm really happy with the way they handled Kyle dealing with Jesse. Again another example of a storyline that would drag out for seasons on other shows.

More backstory for Alex and Michael. My poor boys.

Love Maria giving us a more balanced view of Rosa. Who I am really looking forward to seeing in S2.

Yep, so many examples of how out of the loop people are keeping Maria. And we know it's just going to get worse. I really need for them to give her an opportunity in S2 to really rip into everyone for keeping her in the dark.

And Jesse fucking Manes. Just about everything he says makes sense. He's actually right about aliens. Even right about there being bad ones. But we also know that he's a violent, vindictive dick.

[forduary]

Forduary 2019 Week 2 - Invention

Summary:

Stan and Ford escape their Ma and head for the Stan O’ War - where a certain supernatural surprise awaits them!

HEWWO!!! This year’s Forduary fics are linked like the chapters in a book! Reading the first one will give you all the juicy feels you need for this one!

Fair warning: this one has SEAGULLS.

First fic AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17957654

This fic AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18000998

Ford groaned. He and Stan had fallen asleep in the bottom bunk. It was now morning, his back ached, and the ice packs and punctured, soaking his shirt and pant leg. He nudged Stan.

“Nnn.”

“Stan. Wake up.”

“Wake me when it’s Saturday.”

“It is Saturday.”

“Wake me when I’m dead.”

Ford snorted and crawled over his brother’s legs, wincing as his ankle throbbed. In spite of the ice, it was still incredibly sensitive. When he was upright, he leaned against the bed frame and pushed his brother with his knee. “Stan, c'mon. Let’s grab some breakfast before Ma gets up.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

They both knew that if they didn’t get up, they’d get roped into Ma’s Crystal Ball act. It involved a small cloth booth she wheeled on and off the boardwalk. She didn’t exactly have a permit for that, though, so she only did it on the weekends, when she could blend in with all the other booths – and so Stan and Ford would be around to stand watch for cops. And so they could grab the booth and run if the fuzz did show up. Which had happened. Often.

Stan sat up with a groan, rubbing his ribs.

“You okay?” Ford asked, pulling a fresh vest over his head.

“Peachy. Think I busted a rib.”

“Are you still up for the Stan O’ War?”

“If I’m not, I can just hang out and watch you do nerd things.”

Ford snorted and turned to toss his dirty vest in the hamper.

Suddenly he stopped short, staring out the window. There was a dark alley across the street, directly across from their window, and for a second he could’ve sworn he saw Crampelter in the shadows…

“Whassa matter?” Stan asked behind him, and Ford jumped.

“Oh, I –”

“Whoa, check out that fog!”

Now that he mentioned it, Ford noticed pale ribbons of mist curling into the street from behind their house. The beach itself would probably be covered with it.

He sighed. “Maybe we should –”

“KIIIII-IIIIIDS!” Ma bellowed from downstairs. “ARE YOU AWAKE YET?!”

“Run!”

Stan grabbed the front of Ford’s vest and bolted for the door, nearly tripping his feet in a bed sheet.

They made it down the hallway, into the bathroom, out the tiny window and climbed as fast as the could down the branches of their half-dead ailanthus altissima. Mist wafted around them, the peeling bark slick with it under Ford’s fingers.

“YOU’D BETTER BE AWAKE BECAUSE I CAN’T YELL ANY LOUDER AND YOU DISAPPEARED THE LAST THREE WEEKENDS IN A ROW!”

Instantly Ford and Stan let go and jumped to the ground. Ford caught himself neatly, with almost no weight on his ankle, but Stan gave a nasty grunt of pain.

“Ah-HA!”

Ford grabbed the bed sheet still wrapped around Stan’s ankle, threw it over their shoulders and ran for the beach, Stanley panting right behind him.

The mist muffled their noise and obscured their vision in twenty feet in every direction. They ran until the hard cement path behind their house gave way to almost chewy asphalt, then soft sand. Finally they slowed to a walk, and Ford pushed the sheet off his head to his shoulders. This close to the water, the mist was thicker than ever, surrounding them in a bubble ten feet wide.

“That was close,” Ford panted.

Stan grunted and Ford nearly collapsed as his brother suddenly leaned on him with nearly all his body weight. Ford opened his mouth to complain and realized Stan was wheezing and clutching his ribs. He sighed and pulled Stan’s arm and the bed sheet over his shoulders, distributing the weight more evenly.

“You alright?” he asked.

Stan gave him a thumbs-up, his face still strained.

“Just hang on. You can sit and rest at the Stan O’ War.”

They started down the beach, although the mist made it difficult to see beyond 10 feet in all directions. It swirled around them, prickling their skin with its infinite icy droplets, blurring the world around them to wavering silhouettes. Even the pounding waves and ever-present gulls were muffled. The barest breath of cool wind made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

Ford grinned. Cryptids loved conditions like these!

“You’re…doing that ‘let’s-go-monster-hunting’ look,” Stan said shortly. “If you’re leading me in circles…just to try and catch a thooloo or something –”

“Cthulhu, Stanley, and I know where I’m going!”

“Ford, there is literally no one out here but us.”

“There’s a guy right over there,” Ford said, nodding to a man’s silhouette on their right. “Trust me, I know what I – there, told you!”

The silhouette of their ship rose out of the mist. They’d finally finished the bow of the boat last week, the wheelhouse gleamed dully from the deck, and the mast rose elegantly into the thickening mist, the cries of seagulls giving the impression it was already at sea.

Ford squinted. “Stan…does the mast seem…taller to you?”

“Huh?”

Suddenly the mist cleared from the top of the mast and Ford’s jaw dropped. There was an actual, moving, talking human head sitting on top of the mast!

“GET AWAY YE SEA RATS!” the head bellowed, its black hair a tangled mess around its pocked skin, glaring bloody murder at the circling gulls. “I’ll flay yer feathers from yer skin! I’ll put a curse on every egg! I’ll OW OW OW OW!”

One of the seagulls dive-bombed the head and shot straight through it, going beak-first through its eye and out the back. It was a ghost head! And apparently the dive hadn’t actually disturbed the head in the least, because it was still on the mast yelling at the top of its nonexistent lungs!

Ford opened his mouth to shout up questions – and then Stan abruptly yanked him to the ground, hard.

“Watch out!”

He looked up in time to see the man from earlier stumbling through the surrounding fog. But it wasn’t a man at all – it was a headless spectral corpse, its 17th-century coat soaking wet, its bloodless fingers outstretched.

Ford leaped to his feet with a shout of excitement.

“Stan! Stanley are you seeing this!?”

“Seeing, yes! Liking, no!”

The ghost head glanced down and gasped. “Live ‘uns! Get this flock o’ sea vultures away from me face!”

“Just a second, I have to make a sketch!” Ford eagerly patted his pockets for his pen and notebook. He’d never seen this kind of manifestation before!

“Oh aye, just skitch away, it’s only Captain Kidd, he doesn’t need his head in the afterlife apparently!”

“What?” Ford asked, just as Stan said, “You’re not Captain Kidd.”

Ford turned in surprise, pausing his sketch to stare at his brother. “You know him?” “No, I know Captain Kidd and I’m saying that’s not him. Captain Kidd was hung for piracy, not – you know – chopped.”

“A bit o’ sensitivity, if ye don’t mind!” the head snapped. “And I’m nowt a pirate! It was one ship and anyway me crew burned the lot of it to hide their own crimes so there’s no proof either way!”

“Well that does sound like something a pirate would say,” Stan mused.

Ford gave a snort. “It sounds like something you would say.”

“My point exactly.”

“Will ye just – ye mangy harpies! - will ye just get me down afore these vile beasts pluck out me eyes!”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna happen, pal,” Stan said. “I’ve got busted ribs and Mr. Noodle Arms here couldn’t do a pull-up to save his life.”

“He’s right, I – hey!”

Kidd dodged another seagull attack, pirouetting on the point of his chin. “For the love of – I’ll give ye each a piece o’ me treasure if ye get me down!”

“DONE!” Stan scrambled up the side of the boat, dashed to the mast and started climbing. But he hadn’t made it more than a couple of feet before his face twisted with pain and he slid back down, landing hard. “Ow, ow, ribs are a thing. Ford, your up. Got a ladder or something?”

Ford looked up from drawing Kidds’ nose. “Ladders wouldn’t work, our mast is too tall, but I might be able to rig a makeshift crane using –”

“Stop that!”

They looked up. A seagull darted in, grabbed a damp lock of black hair between its teeth and pulled. Kidd snapped its teeth at it and the gull dropped the hair with a startled cry.

“That’s incredible!” Ford said excitedly. “Why do you think your face is incorporeal and yet your hair is tangible? Could it be because hair takes longer to decompose? Do you know if your corpse still has its hair? And why is your body –”

“IF YOU’RE DONE SPECULATIN’ ON MY PHANTOM PHYSIOLOGY!”

“Right, right!” Ford stuffed his notebook back into his pocket. “Stan, shoot the seagulls away while I go grab a couple of things from school. And keep an eye on…that.” He jabbed a thumb at Kidd’s body, which was currently making sand angels.

“Fine, fine.” Stan loaded his shotgun again and took aim.

Kidd glared down. “Watch where ye point that thing! If ye knock owt so much as one tooth –”

Ford left them to their argument and hurried off, across the beach and back to the street. The mist thinned as he went, and it seemed to stop completely once it reached the sidewalk, which Ford found absolutely fascinating. He made a mental note of his exact latitude and longitude, then ran for the school as fast as he could, ignoring the soreness in his ankle.

He reached the school in ten minutes, slipped through the open space under the bleachers, then went straight for the back of the science building. As he’d suspected, Crampelter and his crew had placed a good number of dents and dings into the carriage of his satellite project. Luckily he’d made a much sturdier shell this time, and both the carriage and its wheels still looked functional. He picked the lock on the auto lab – Stan had shown him how after he’d been locked in several times – and grabbed several long pieces of metal and a few hand tools, including a portable blow torch. Then he tied everything onto the satellite and wheeled it back to the beach as quickly as he could.

The mist on the beach had thinned by the time he returned, enough so that Ford could almost see the street from the shore. The sand around the boat was now littered with limping seagulls, who glared sullenly at Ford as he shoved the satellite awkwardly over the sand.

“Sixer!” Stan dropped his slingshot and hurried to help. “Whatever you do, can you do it fast? I don’t think Kidd’s doing so great, he’s been dead quiet for the last two minutes. Well not dead dead – actually yeah that kind of dead too –”

“The mist, lads,” Kidd called down. Ford looked up. Kidd’s head almost looked like a soggy cake, the ghostly flesh sagging on his bones, his tangled hair drooping. “The mist is falling…”

“Oi!” Stan shouted. “Treasure first, Death the Sequel later!”

“Stay calm, I have a plan!” Ford called up. Then he turned to Stan and shoved a metal beam at him. “Alright, you’re going to help me make a remote-controlled aerial bucket lift, similar to the ones used for electrical line maintenance. Lay these beams and lay out perpendicularly to each other and – perpendicular, Stan, not parallel!”

“They sound the same!”

“Never mind, just screw them together here and here. Tell me when you’re done, I’ll need to make some adjustments in the satellite carriage to create space for the internal ball bearing and it has to match the width of the boom exactly. Can you grab the electrical kit from inside the Stan O’ War? I’ll need the spare wires for the remote control. After that…”

Stan squinted into the sun. The mist had almost completely burned off, and the noonday sun was high overhead.

“Left. More left. More. Okay, now straight up, like three feet forward…”

Ford pressed the remote slowly and carefully. The remote was rather quick work and therefore temperamental, so he was handling it while the Stan squinted into the noonday sun to give directions. At this point Kidd’s head was little more than a shapeless translucent sponge, and his body was slouched motionless in the shadow of the Stan O’ War.

On Stanley’s instruction, he slowly extended the articulated beams, then flipped the switch to open the claw at the end. It wasn’t so much a claw as it was two pieces of metal that could be opened and shut like a pair of tweezers, but it would do the job.

“Hang on.” Stan grabbed his slingshot and fired at a stray seagull. “Man these guys are persistent. Okay, you’re clear.”

Ford closed the claw, maneuvered it a foot higher, than swung it down into the shadows as fast as he dared. Kidd’s head was little more than a grayish blob swinging from straggly black strings. But the second the head touched its body, it practically inflated, literally fleshing itself out again, cheeks, nose, eyes, hair.

“Aaaaahh…” Kidd’s eyes reached up to prod his own cheeks. “That’s the stuff, lads.”

Ford stared in fascination. “Incredible. How would you describe the sensations in your face before, during, and after it was reattached to your body? How was that related to the mist? Or is it that you’re simply sensitive to sunlight, since you’re currently standing in the shade? Theoretically, if you carried an umbrella, could you –”

“Whoa, hold up, aren’t we forgetting something?” Stan held out his hand. “Pay up, pirate! Stanley’s got some impulse buys to make!”

Kidd grumbled under his breath, but he stood up and started digging into his pockets. Ford blinked. The sun was shining off of one of Kidd’s buttons. Then he realized what that meant and raised a hand in warning – just as Kidd dropped something into Stan’s hand and vanished in the noonday sun.

Ford stared at the spot with dismay. “He's gone! But I still had questions!”

“Same here, look at this!” Stan held up a single ancient coin, so smudged with muck and rotted kelp it barely looked like money at all. Although…

“We could probably analyze the muck on it for ectoplasmic residue,” Ford said hopefully, leaning in to inspect it. “Perhaps even take some samples? I’d love to test my hypothesis about Kidd’s sensitivity to mist vs sunlight.”

“Focus, Sixer! I am a full treasure chest short here! What the heck am I supposed to do with just one coin? Buy crummy used car?! I might as well just bury it right back in the sand!” He chucked it at the ground.

Instantly one of the nearest seagulls snapped it up and flew off.

“Wh-HEY! GIMME BACK THAT MONEY, SONNY!”

Stan sprinted after the thieving bird, alternately shouting and yelping at his ribs. Ford quickly collapsed the lift, maneuvered it into the Stan O’ War for safekeeping, and ran to catch up. If he really could collect some samples off of that coin, he might be the first to collect hard evidence of ectoplasmic entities. Not to mention they could use the lift later to make painting the Stan O’ War that much easier. In a strange way, Ford was glad he hadn’t gotten a chance to complete his satellite. His latest invention would surely come in handy later!

A/N: Oh, it will, Ford. But not the way you’re hoping…

[gosecretscribbles]

Forduary 2019 Week 2 - Invention

Summary:

Stan and Ford escape their Ma and head for the Stan O' War - where a certain supernatural surprise awaits them!

HEWWO!!! This year's Forduary fics are linked like the chapters in a book! Reading the first one will give you all the juicy feels you need for this one!

Fair warning: this one has SEAGULLS.

First fic AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17957654

This fic AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18000998

Ford groaned. He and Stan had fallen asleep in the bottom bunk. It was now morning, his back ached, and the ice packs and punctured, soaking his shirt and pant leg. He nudged Stan.

“Nnn.”

“Stan. Wake up.”

“Wake me when it's Saturday.”

“It is Saturday.”

“Wake me when I'm dead.”

Ford snorted and crawled over his brother's legs, wincing as his ankle throbbed. In spite of the ice, it was still incredibly sensitive. When he was upright, he leaned against the bed frame and pushed his brother with his knee. “Stan, c'mon. Let's grab some breakfast before Ma gets up.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

They both knew that if they didn't get up, they'd get roped into Ma's Crystal Ball act. It involved a small cloth booth she wheeled on and off the boardwalk. She didn't exactly have a permit for that, though, so she only did it on the weekends, when she could blend in with all the other booths – and so Stan and Ford would be around to stand watch for cops. And so they could grab the booth and run if the fuzz did show up. Which had happened. Often.

Stan sat up with a groan, rubbing his ribs.

“You okay?” Ford asked, pulling a fresh vest over his head.

“Peachy. Think I busted a rib.”

“Are you still up for the Stan O’ War?”

“If I’m not, I can just hang out and watch you do nerd things.”

Ford snorted and turned to toss his dirty vest in the hamper.

Suddenly he stopped short, staring out the window. There was a dark alley across the street, directly across from their window, and for a second he could've sworn he saw Crampelter in the shadows...

“Whassa matter?” Stan asked behind him, and Ford jumped.

“Oh, I –”

“Whoa, check out that fog!”

Now that he mentioned it, Ford noticed pale ribbons of mist curling into the street from behind their house. The beach itself would probably be covered with it.

He sighed. “Maybe we should –”

“KIIIII-IIIIIDS!” Ma bellowed from downstairs. “ARE YOU AWAKE YET?!”

“Run!”

Stan grabbed the front of Ford's vest and bolted for the door, nearly tripping his feet in a bed sheet.

They made it down the hallway, into the bathroom, out the tiny window and climbed as fast as the could down the branches of their half-dead ailanthus altissima. Mist wafted around them, the peeling bark slick with it under Ford's fingers.

“YOU'D BETTER BE AWAKE BECAUSE I CAN'T YELL ANY LOUDER AND YOU DISAPPEARED THE LAST THREE WEEKENDS IN A ROW!”

Instantly Ford and Stan let go and jumped to the ground. Ford caught himself neatly, with almost no weight on his ankle, but Stan gave a nasty grunt of pain.

“Ah-HA!”

Ford grabbed the bed sheet still wrapped around Stan's ankle, threw it over their shoulders and ran for the beach, Stanley panting right behind him.

The mist muffled their noise and obscured their vision in twenty feet in every direction. They ran until the hard cement path behind their house gave way to almost chewy asphalt, then soft sand. Finally they slowed to a walk, and Ford pushed the sheet off his head to his shoulders. This close to the water, the mist was thicker than ever, surrounding them in a bubble ten feet wide.

“That was close,” Ford panted.

Stan grunted and Ford nearly collapsed as his brother suddenly leaned on him with nearly all his body weight. Ford opened his mouth to complain and realized Stan was wheezing and clutching his ribs. He sighed and pulled Stan's arm and the bed sheet over his shoulders, distributing the weight more evenly.

“You alright?” he asked.

Stan gave him a thumbs-up, his face still strained.

“Just hang on. You can sit and rest at the Stan O' War.”

They started down the beach, although the mist made it difficult to see beyond 10 feet in all directions. It swirled around them, prickling their skin with its infinite icy droplets, blurring the world around them to wavering silhouettes. Even the pounding waves and ever-present gulls were muffled. The barest breath of cool wind made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

Ford grinned. Cryptids loved conditions like these!

“You're...doing that 'let's-go-monster-hunting' look,” Stan said shortly. “If you're leading me in circles...just to try and catch a thooloo or something –”

“Cthulhu, Stanley, and I know where I'm going!”

“Ford, there is literally no one out here but us.”

“There's a guy right over there,” Ford said, nodding to a man's silhouette on their right. “Trust me, I know what I – there, told you!”

The silhouette of their ship rose out of the mist. They'd finally finished the bow of the boat last week, the wheelhouse gleamed dully from the deck, and the mast rose elegantly into the thickening mist, the cries of seagulls giving the impression it was already at sea.

Ford squinted. “Stan...does the mast seem...taller to you?”

“Huh?”

Suddenly the mist cleared from the top of the mast and Ford's jaw dropped. There was an actual, moving, talking human head sitting on top of the mast!

“GET AWAY YE SEA RATS!” the head bellowed, its black hair a tangled mess around its pocked skin, glaring bloody murder at the circling gulls. “I'll flay yer feathers from yer skin! I'll put a curse on every egg! I'll OW OW OW OW!”

One of the seagulls dive-bombed the head and shot straight through it, going beak-first through its eye and out the back. It was a ghost head! And apparently the dive hadn't actually disturbed the head in the least, because it was still on the mast yelling at the top of its nonexistent lungs!

Ford opened his mouth to shout up questions – and then Stan abruptly yanked him to the ground, hard.

“Watch out!”

He looked up in time to see the man from earlier stumbling through the surrounding fog. But it wasn't a man at all – it was a headless spectral corpse, its 17th-century coat soaking wet, its bloodless fingers outstretched.

Ford leaped to his feet with a shout of excitement.

“Stan! Stanley are you seeing this!?”

“Seeing, yes! Liking, no!”

The ghost head glanced down and gasped. “Live 'uns! Get this flock o' sea vultures away from me face!”

“Just a second, I have to make a sketch!” Ford eagerly patted his pockets for his pen and notebook. He'd never seen this kind of manifestation before!

“Oh aye, just skitch away, it's only Captain Kidd, he doesn't need his head in the afterlife apparently!”

“What?” Ford asked, just as Stan said, “You're not Captain Kidd.”

Ford turned in surprise, pausing his sketch to stare at his brother. “You know him?” “No, I know Captain Kidd and I'm saying that's not him. Captain Kidd was hung for piracy, not – you know – chopped.”

“A bit o' sensitivity, if ye don't mind!” the head snapped. “And I'm nowt a pirate! It was one ship and anyway me crew burned the lot of it to hide their own crimes so there's no proof either way!”

“Well that does sound like something a pirate would say,” Stan mused.

Ford gave a snort. “It sounds like something you would say.”

“My point exactly.”

“Will ye just – ye mangy harpies! - will ye just get me down afore these vile beasts pluck out me eyes!”

“Yeah, I don't think that's gonna happen, pal,” Stan said. “I've got busted ribs and Mr. Noodle Arms here couldn't do a pull-up to save his life.”

“He's right, I – hey!”

Kidd dodged another seagull attack, pirouetting on the point of his chin. “For the love of – I'll give ye each a piece o' me treasure if ye get me down!”

“DONE!” Stan scrambled up the side of the boat, dashed to the mast and started climbing. But he hadn't made it more than a couple of feet before his face twisted with pain and he slid back down, landing hard. “Ow, ow, ribs are a thing. Ford, your up. Got a ladder or something?”

Ford looked up from drawing Kidds' nose. “Ladders wouldn't work, our mast is too tall, but I might be able to rig a makeshift crane using –”

“Stop that!”

They looked up. A seagull darted in, grabbed a damp lock of black hair between its teeth and pulled. Kidd snapped its teeth at it and the gull dropped the hair with a startled cry.

“That's incredible!” Ford said excitedly. “Why do you think your face is incorporeal and yet your hair is tangible? Could it be because hair takes longer to decompose? Do you know if your corpse still has its hair? And why is your body –”

“IF YOU'RE DONE SPECULATIN' ON MY PHANTOM PHYSIOLOGY!”

“Right, right!” Ford stuffed his notebook back into his pocket. “Stan, shoot the seagulls away while I go grab a couple of things from school. And keep an eye on...that.” He jabbed a thumb at Kidd's body, which was currently making sand angels.

“Fine, fine.” Stan loaded his shotgun again and took aim.

Kidd glared down. “Watch where ye point that thing! If ye knock owt so much as one tooth –”

Ford left them to their argument and hurried off, across the beach and back to the street. The mist thinned as he went, and it seemed to stop completely once it reached the sidewalk, which Ford found absolutely fascinating. He made a mental note of his exact latitude and longitude, then ran for the school as fast as he could, ignoring the soreness in his ankle.

He reached the school in ten minutes, slipped through the open space under the bleachers, then went straight for the back of the science building. As he'd suspected, Crampelter and his crew had placed a good number of dents and dings into the carriage of his satellite project. Luckily he'd made a much sturdier shell this time, and both the carriage and its wheels still looked functional. He picked the lock on the auto lab – Stan had shown him how after he'd been locked in several times – and grabbed several long pieces of metal and a few hand tools, including a portable blow torch. Then he tied everything onto the satellite and wheeled it back to the beach as quickly as he could.

The mist on the beach had thinned by the time he returned, enough so that Ford could almost see the street from the shore. The sand around the boat was now littered with limping seagulls, who glared sullenly at Ford as he shoved the satellite awkwardly over the sand.

“Sixer!” Stan dropped his slingshot and hurried to help. “Whatever you do, can you do it fast? I don't think Kidd's doing so great, he's been dead quiet for the last two minutes. Well not dead dead – actually yeah that kind of dead too –”

“The mist, lads,” Kidd called down. Ford looked up. Kidd's head almost looked like a soggy cake, the ghostly flesh sagging on his bones, his tangled hair drooping. “The mist is falling...”

“Oi!” Stan shouted. “Treasure first, Death the Sequel later!”

“Stay calm, I have a plan!” Ford called up. Then he turned to Stan and shoved a metal beam at him. “Alright, you're going to help me make a remote-controlled aerial bucket lift, similar to the ones used for electrical line maintenance. Lay these beams and lay out perpendicularly to each other and – perpendicular, Stan, not parallel!”

“They sound the same!”

“Never mind, just screw them together here and here. Tell me when you're done, I'll need to make some adjustments in the satellite carriage to create space for the internal ball bearing and it has to match the width of the boom exactly. Can you grab the electrical kit from inside the Stan O' War? I'll need the spare wires for the remote control. After that...”

  Stan squinted into the sun. The mist had almost completely burned off, and the noonday sun was high overhead.

“Left. More left. More. Okay, now straight up, like three feet forward...”

Ford pressed the remote slowly and carefully. The remote was rather quick work and therefore temperamental, so he was handling it while the Stan squinted into the noonday sun to give directions. At this point Kidd's head was little more than a shapeless translucent sponge, and his body was slouched motionless in the shadow of the Stan O' War.

On Stanley's instruction, he slowly extended the articulated beams, then flipped the switch to open the claw at the end. It wasn't so much a claw as it was two pieces of metal that could be opened and shut like a pair of tweezers, but it would do the job.

“Hang on.” Stan grabbed his slingshot and fired at a stray seagull. “Man these guys are persistent. Okay, you're clear.”

Ford closed the claw, maneuvered it a foot higher, than swung it down into the shadows as fast as he dared. Kidd's head was little more than a grayish blob swinging from straggly black strings. But the second the head touched its body, it practically inflated, literally fleshing itself out again, cheeks, nose, eyes, hair.

“Aaaaahh...” Kidd's eyes reached up to prod his own cheeks. “That's the stuff, lads.”

Ford stared in fascination. “Incredible. How would you describe the sensations in your face before, during, and after it was reattached to your body? How was that related to the mist? Or is it that you're simply sensitive to sunlight, since you're currently standing in the shade? Theoretically, if you carried an umbrella, could you –”

“Whoa, hold up, aren't we forgetting something?” Stan held out his hand. “Pay up, pirate! Stanley's got some impulse buys to make!”

Kidd grumbled under his breath, but he stood up and started digging into his pockets. Ford blinked. The sun was shining off of one of Kidd's buttons. Then he realized what that meant and raised a hand in warning – just as Kidd dropped something into Stan's hand and vanished in the noonday sun.

Ford stared at the spot with dismay. “He's gone! But I still had questions!”

“Same here, look at this!” Stan held up a single ancient coin, so smudged with muck and rotted kelp it barely looked like money at all. Although...

“We could probably analyze the muck on it for ectoplasmic residue,” Ford said hopefully, leaning in to inspect it. “Perhaps even take some samples? I'd love to test my hypothesis about Kidd's sensitivity to mist vs sunlight.”

“Focus, Sixer! I am a full treasure chest short here! What the heck am I supposed to do with just one coin? Buy crummy used car?! I might as well just bury it right back in the sand!” He chucked it at the ground.

Instantly one of the nearest seagulls snapped it up and flew off.

“Wh-HEY! GIMME BACK THAT MONEY, SONNY!”

Stan sprinted after the thieving bird, alternately shouting and yelping at his ribs. Ford quickly collapsed the lift, maneuvered it into the Stan O' War for safekeeping, and ran to catch up. If he really could collect some samples off of that coin, he might be the first to collect hard evidence of ectoplasmic entities. Not to mention they could use the lift later to make painting the Stan O' War that much easier. In a strange way, Ford was glad he hadn't gotten a chance to complete his satellite. His latest invention would surely come in handy later!

A/N: Oh, it will, Ford.  But not the way you're hoping...

[rp-grannies]

[Sentence Starters] Life is Strange: Before The Storm

Feel free to add context, change pronouns, names, jobs, and anything else you need to change to make these work for you! Have fun! ^-^

EPISODE 1: AWAKE

❝ Sweet knife! Just like the one my mom refused to get me for my birthday. ❞

❝ The whole point of lowering expectations is so you won't be disappointed in me ever again. ❞

❝ Why do theater kids take themselves so seriously? ❞

❝ Sometimes I feel like I've got no reason to stay. ❞

❝ Fun fact, shark babies eat their siblings in the womb. Maybe that's why I'm an only child. ❞

❝ Did I peak in middle school? ❞

❝ Are you insulting me in some obscure nerd way? ❞

❝ (Name), I want to talk to you about something, but... I don't know how to talk about this. ❞

❝ I guess you could stab someone with a nail file. ❞

❝ Commence make-out session in three, two, one-- ❞

❝ Oh good! You're here! ❞

❝ It's nice (Name) we're having. Weather! I mean weather. ❞

❝ I'd join a motorcycle gang! . . . If I had any friends. ❞

❝ I once stabbed a guy in the chest with a sword and it went all the way through and killed the guy behind him too. True story. ❞

❝ Let me know if you need an accomplice. ❞

EPISODE 2: BRAVE NEW WORLD

❝ Glass looks way prettier when it's broken. Wonder what else that's true for... ❞ 

❝ You're a long way from the beach. ❞

❝ Do you think there's a point when you've been acting so much that you don't even have your own personality anymore? ❞

❝ I've learned that if I'm passionate about something, it's probably the right thing to care about. ❞

❝ Even my prodigious imagination cannot conceive a worse turn of fate! ❞

❝ Does (Name) eat pizza with a fork and knife? ❞

❝ So my new friend, who everyone thinks is perfect, did something batshit-fucking nutso last night. ❞

❝ Do you think you might be taking this a little too well? ❞

❝ I'd say I'm exceptionally well-adjusted. ❞

❝ Are you angry all the time because you like the way it feels, or is it merely a desperate defense against experiencing true intimacy with others? ❞

❝ Bitch dosed your tea. ❞

❝ Even when shit's like, the lamest ever, you can always run away from whatever's bothering you. ❞

❝ When life gives you lipstick, use it to tag shit. ❞

❝ Truly we are a cursed lot. ❞

❝ Be kind to yourself, (Name). ❞

EPISODE 3: HELL IS EMPTY 

❝ I've always loved stars. They remind us that there's so much beauty out there, which we hardly ever see. ❞ 

❝ The stars we're seeing have already been dead for millions of years. They're all lies. ❞

❝ It's all lies. Everything. My entire life. ❞

❝ I think you're the only one in the world I can trust. ❞

❝ Who cares if the stars are dead? As long as we can still see them, that means they're real to us. Right? ❞

❝ Y'know, you don't always have to make me breakfast. I'd settle for flowers. ❞

❝ I thought you'd like it. It involves fire. ❞

❝ We're a family, you know? We deal with things together. ❞

❝ I don't think you remember after you're dead. ❞

❝ The pain will pass. ❞

❝ I almost lost you. I can't believe I almost-- ❞

❝ You're not getting rid of me that easy. ❞

❝ I don't think I've seen you wear that before. ❞

❝ I never knew how much I could love someone until I had (name). ❞

❝ Hey, being a dad's tough. ❞

❝ We never actually escaped, did we? ❞

BONUS EPISODE: FAREWELL 

❝ Trust in science, (Name). Even when science means blowing shit up. ❞ 

❝ It feels like I've spent half my life hanging out in this room. Probably because I have. ❞

❝ What do two under-supervised friends with clean rooms and clean slates want to get into today? ❞

❝ It seems like (Name) always has a project around the house. ❞

❝ I think when you're a kid, you're only afraid of things that can hurt you. But when you get older, you become more afraid of hurting the people you care about. ❞

❝ Okay, okay. Forget everything. Today, we go treasure hunting. ❞

❝ All I'm saying is, I've never broken my wrist taking a picture. ❞

❝ It's so hard to predict the future. Maybe it's better to enjoy the present instead. ❞

❝ Somebody's a goody two-shoes!

❝ Come on, you've gotta tell me what happened. I'm your best friend. ❞

❝ Whoa, whoa, whoa-- mushiness alert! ❞

❝ It's so hard, trying to say what I'm thinking. ❞

❝ You're dealing with so much other stuff. You don't deserve any of this. ❞

❝ I want to spend every minute we have together having fun. ❞

❝ I will always, always love you. Goodbye. ❞

[deedles-sims]

Devin’s “Try  It All” Legacy Challenge for The Sims 4

Hi there! This is a legacy challenge I created to do/see/complete everything The Sims 4 has to offer at least once. It incorporates all traits at least once, most aspirations and careers, and all skills and collections. I apologize if the transitions aren’t all that (I randomized the generations and strung them together the best that I could), but I think this is a really neat idea and wanted to share it. However, please don’t post this elsewhere without giving credit. I spent many hours putting this together. I hope you enjoy! I’d love any feedback you have! If you’d like to post about your journey, you can use the #Try It All Legacy Challenge

Rules:

Don’t cheat. It’s no fun if you cheat your way to victory. The aim of the game is to do and complete everything the game offers at least once. If you cheat, you can’t boast about completing such a feat.

Traits, Aspirations, and Careers are chosen for you. Unless specifically stated, you can decide which branch of the career you’d like to do.

All Aspirations, Skills, and Collections listed must be completed before you move on to the next generation. Failure to complete one of the listed requirements (unless due to some game mechanic or something outside of your control) results in the loss of the challenge.

Obviously each generation needs to have at least once child (If you don’t then the legacy can’t continue!). It’s up to you whether you adopt or birth the heirs, and how the heir is chosen unless specifically stated (i.e., the heir can be whoever you want, unless as in Gen 21 when the heir needs to be a vampire).

Berry Sims aren’t a required part of the challenge, but I’ve added in colors that I think pertain to each generation nicely if you’d like to incorporate that as well.

Since there are so many generations, you can also make it an Alphabetacy!

What to Do:

Create your founder with the given Aspiration, and Traits (and Berry color if you’d like to incorporate that into the game).

DON’T CREATE ANY CHILDREN OR SPOUSES.

Choose a large lot to grow your family on. There aren’t any restrictions on staying on the same lot, but I personally think it’s neat to see the lot change over the course of the challenge.

Play through the challenge!

The Generations:

1. Super Parent (Light Blue)

You’ve always wanted to have a large, beautiful, and successful family. As the matriarch/patriarch, you want to see your children grow up well, and are determined to be a big part of that.

Traits: Family-Oriented, Ambitious, Neat

Job: Start Up Entrepreneur (Tech Guru)

Get married

Master Parenting Skill

Have one child gain all positive character traits (from the Parenthood Pack)

Host one of each of the following: Birthday Party, Weenie Roast, and Toddler Play Date.

2. Freelance Botanist (Forest Green)

You were your parents’ pride and joy. They want to see you become the best of the best, but you want to go a different route. Since you were young, you’ve had a special bond with plants. So special, in fact, that you prefer them over Sims! You long to have the biggest garden around.

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Loner, Gloomy

Job: Being a Botanist

Master Gardening Skill

Complete Gardening collection

3. Master Mixologist (Grey)

As a teen, you had a fascination with nectar, but not in a bad way! You thought it was interesting how there were so many combinations that produced such delicious drinks, kind of like a chemist! You have made it your life’s goal to learn all of those combinations.

Traits: Foodie, Outgoing, Insider

Job: Mixologist

Master Mixology Skill

Throw a party to show off your skills

4. Angling Ace (Salmon)

While the rest of your family was busy fussing over food and parties, you were outside enjoying the great world around you. Among your favorite parts were the fish, which you’re determined to catch all of and have a private collection.

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Glutton, Hot-Headed

Job: Food Critic

Master Fishing Skill

Complete Fish collection

Showcase at least 5 fish that you’ve caught.

5. Soulmate (Rose Pink)

One of your life’s dreams has always been to have a nice spouse and kids. But until that day, you’re dedicated to your office job. However, during a typical day at work, you stumble upon that special someone. It’s a regular old office romance! Let’s just hope you don’t let your jealousy get the best of you...

Traits: Romantic, Jealous, Family Oriented

Job: Public Relations

Have an office romance

Host a Wedding

Get Married

6. Musical Genius (Lavender)

Most of your childhood was spent perfecting your music, and as such, you are eager to be a famous musician. You intend to make all of your dreams come true, and spend many a day practicing.

Traits: Creative, Music Lover, Perfectionist

Job: Musician

Master Guitar Skill

Master Guitar Skill

Master Violin Skill

Master Pipe Organ Skill

Master Singing Skill

7. Outdoor Enthusiast (Mint)

Your childhood was filled with loud music as your parent practiced their instruments for hours on end. To get away from it all, you spent a lot of time outside, enjoying the great outdoors. Your biggest goal is to start a bug collection.

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Vegetarian, Clumsy

Job: Politician with a Save the Trees platform

Master Herbalism Skill

Complete Insects Collection

8. Archaeology Scholar (Light Yellow)

Instead of chasing insects, you focused on the objects you found on your family outings. Once, even, you found treasure worth 1,000 simoleons! That sparked your interest so much that you’ve decided to dedicate your life to being a treasure hunter, both at work and outside. You’d love to have your own private collection someday!

Traits: Active, Ambitious, Cheerful

Job: Investor

Master Archaeology Skill

Master Selvedoradian Culture Skill

Complete Jungle Adventures collections

9. Party Animal (Plum)

You always hated the family treasure hunts your parents made you go on, but what could you do? Well, at least when you visited Selvedorada you could dance with the locals! You adored those times, especially the parties! You want to spend every waking moment living life it’s 1999!

Traits: Dance Machine, Bro, Insider

Job: Internet Personality

Master DJ Skill

Master Dancing Skill

Throw an Incognito Costume Party, a Spooky Party, a House Party, and a Dance Party.

(Bonus points if you have a child that gains all negative character traits from the Parenthood Pack. If you do, this should be your heir!)

10. Public Enemy (Scarlet)

Your parent was too caught up in their partying to raise you well, so you raised yourself (quite unsuccessfully, you might add). You never truly learned to share, or not to take what isn’t yours. If we’re being honest, you’re the kind of Sim that just wants to watch the world burn. And if it does, then you’d probably just laugh! (*insert evil laugh here*)

Traits: Evil, Kleptomaniac, Insane

Job: Criminal

Have 5 enemies

Have a collection of stolen items

11. Computer Whiz (White)

You always thought your mother/father was insane, and it turns out you were right! Because of your not-so-great upbringing, you’re a bit of a loner. However, you were the brightest student in your school, and you long to be the brightest computer genius in the entire world.

Traits: Geek, Genius, Loner

Job: eSports Gamer

Master Programming Skill

Master Video Gaming Skill

Complete MySims Collection

12. Bodybuilder (Gold)

As a child, your parents were very occupied with their technology. You, on the other hand, spent most of your time on the jungle gym. Now, as an adult, you’re dedicated to your health and wellness. If only you would just clean up after yourself!

Traits: Active, Slob, Self-Assured

Job: Pro Athlete

Master Fitness Skill

Master Wellness Skill

Adopt a cat or dog as part of a self-help kick

13. Friend of the Animals (Purple)

One of the best decisions your mother/father ever made (next to having you of course) was getting your 4-legged friend. The two of you were best friends since the day you were born, and because of the special bond you had, you’ve decided to open a vet clinic.

Traits: Cat or Dog Lover (Based on your choice in the last generation), Good, Bookworm

Job: Running a Vet Clinic

Master Pet Training Skill

Master Veterinarian Skill

Complete Feathers collection

Have at least 1 cat and 1 dog

14. The Curator (Ruby Red)

Your parent’s vet clinic didn’t leave them much time for parenting, but you didn’t mind. You were too busy collecting the many things around you. You got so busy, in fact, that you long to start a museum!

Traits: Snob, Art Lover, Unflirty

Job: Art Critic

Complete Crystals, Elements, Fossils, Metals, and Microscope Prints collections

15. Painter Extraordinaire (Sky Blue)

Spending time in your museum of a house wasn’t very entertaining, but you made it work. All you had to do was break out a canvas and some paints and you were set for hours! Of course, not all of it was a waste. You did learn some very handy photography techniques to help you as an adult.

Traits: Creative, Art Lover, Snob

Job: Painter

Master Painting Skill

Master Photography Skill

Host Black and White Bash to showcase your art

16. Nerd Brain (Steel)

You’re not one for art (the gene seems to have skipped a generation with you), but you are a whiz with a wrench! You’ll do anything to leave this world, including build your own rocket ship out of here! Sixam, here you come!

Traits: Geek, Ambitious, Perfectionist

Job: Astronaut

Master Handiness Skill

Master Rocket Science Skill

Complete Aliens collection

Complete Space Rocks collection

Befriend an alien

17. Master Chef (Apricot)

Outer space was never really your thing, but it did give you some wonderful recipes! You’re perfectly fine spending the rest of your life on planet Earth, so long as you learn every recipe there is!

Traits: Foodie, Genius, Vegetarian

Job: Master Chef

Master Cooking Skill

Master Baking Skill

Master Gourmet Cooking Skill

Throw a dinner party

18. Chief of Mischief (Crimson)

Instead of helping your parent in the kitchen or licking the spoon, you preferred to break it. Your parent gave up on changing your ways rather quickly, so you became the mean-spirited Sim you are now. Rather than being a silly chef, you want to change the world in a bad way: by being the best super villain!

Traits: Mean, Lazy, Childish

Job: Villain

Master Mischief Skill

Win 5 fights

19. Renaissance Sim (Orange)

Your parent’s evil ways have rubbed off on you, at least somewhat. Instead of being an evildoer, though, you just want to be a mad scientist! You use frogs as your test subjects (but not for things that would hurt them! You’re not that bad), and occasionally enjoy a game of bowling.

Traits: Squeamish, Geek, Materialistic

Job: Scientist

Master Bowling Skill

Master Logic Skill

Complete Frog Collection

Complete Space Prints Collection

Reach at least level 5 of 2 other skills, but never commit enough to master them

20. Serial Romantic (Hot Pink)

You’ve never been one for committing, a trait taught to you by your mother/father. However, instead of not committing to a career or hobby, you can’t seem to commit to a single Sim! You spend much of your life bouncing from one Sim to another to sometimes several at once!! It doesn’t even matter if they’re fully human or not, either! At least you’re successful in your career...

Traits: Noncommittal, Romantic, Hates Children

Job: Doctor

Have 3 significant others at once

Never marry

Have only 1 child (must be with a vampire!!!)

21. Master Vampire (Blood Red)

Your parent was always too busy fooling around to spend time with you, so you’re quite the loner. It doesn’t help that you’re a vampire and they also didn’t know how to raise you. You figured the whole “drinking blood instead of food” thing out on your own, though. Of course, being immortal is depressing, so you don’t talk to many people, and you’re sad pretty often.

Traits: Loner, Gloomy, Snob

Job: Management

Master Vampire Lore Skill

Become a Master Vampire

Marry a human

22. Joke Star (Navy Blue)

When you were younger, you were very much the goofball in school, and you quickly decided you wanted to make it your life’s goal to make every Sim laugh. You are determined to be the most famous comedian in the world!

Traits: Goofball, Outgoing, Cheerful

Job: Comedian

Master Comedy Skill

Master Charisma Skill

23. Bestselling Author (Sepia)

As a class assignment one day, you researched your family tree and discovered all of your wacky ancestors and their antics. Using this as your inspiration, you’ve decided to be an author and write an entire book series about your family.

Traits: Creative, Bookworm, Self-Assured

Job: Author

Write 23 books (one for each heir), and a final autobiography.

Complete Postcards collection

[apathetic-revenant]

how proud I’d be (part 3)

(part 1) (part 2) 

PFFFFFFFFFF

Ford was at his desk staring at a quantum physics textbook and not taking in a single word of it when the call of “STANFORD!” startled him into slamming his knee into the underside of the desk.

He stood up hastily, wincing, and hurried down the stairs to find his father in the living room, holding up the phone. “Someone’s called for you.”

Ford stared. No one ever called for him. “...Who?”

“Dunno. Some old guy. You gonna take it or what?”

It must have been someone from the college. That was the only thing that made sense, although them calling on a Saturday night didn’t, so much. “Uh...yeah, yeah, of course.”

Filbrick handed him the phone and shuffled off. Ford put it to his ear, coughed nervously, and said, “Hello?”

“Stanford?” the voice on the other end said. It wasn’t familiar at all.

“Uh, speaking?”

“Good, good. I got someone here who wants to talk to you.” There was the sound of the other phone being handed to someone else, and then-

“Uh...hey, bro. It’s, uh, it’s me.”

  Stan held his breath, expecting to hear Ford slam the phone down on the spot, or perhaps say something like, “I have nothing to say you to, Stanley,” in that clipped tone he got when he was being really snippy, or maybe-

He definitely did not expect his brother to all but shriek, “STANLEY? Where have you BEEN?”

Stan was completely flummoxed.

“Wh...wh...where have I been?” he spluttered. “What do you mean, where have I been? I got kicked out, remember? What, were you expecting me to pop back in on Sunday afternoons for tea?”

“I...I...well, I mean, no, but...I didn’t know what happened to you! You took the Stan o’War and I thought...I didn’t know if you’d shipwrecked or drowned or-”

“Wait. Did you...you thought I was dead?” Stan boggled at the phone. “Ford, you absolute drama queen.”

He could practically hear Ford’s cheeks flush. “Well pardon me for being worried after you took a clearly unsafe craft out with no sailing experience-”

“I will pardon nothing!” Stan snapped back. “I’ll have you know the Stan o’War did just fine! Anyway, what do you care what I did? You were perfectly fine with me being kicked out onto the street!”

There was a horrible, ringing silence. Both of them were breathing hard. Stan clenched his eyes shut. This was going just as horribly as he’d expected. Ford was never going to forgive him-

“I’m sorry,” Ford said.

Stan opened his eyes.

“You what?” he said.

“I...all summer I kept thinking...about all the things I’d never get to say to you,” Ford said quietly. “And I...well, I’ll have you know I’m still very angry at you, Stanley.”

“This is some apology,” Stan muttered.

“But...but I’m not that angry. Not so angry that I wanted...that I…”

  Ford sank down onto the couch, clutching the telephone like his only lifeline in a storm. There was so much he wanted to say but he was locking up and he couldn’t get the words out and he hated it, he hated when this happened to him, he’d finally gotten a chance to talk to Stanley again and he was going to ruin it because he could never figure out how to say the right thing.

He swallowed hard a few times. “I...I missed you, Stan.”

Stan sighed and leaned against Rory’s counter. “I missed you too, bro.”

And then, “I...I really am sorry about breaking your project. I swear I didn’t mean to, I really didn’t! I was just...I was scared, Ford. You were going to leave me all alone…”

He heard a sharp intake of breath from the other end of the line. “I thought...you were just upset about the treasure-hunting thing.”

“What? No. Ford.” Stan rubbed a hand across his eyes. “I mean, I did want that...I do...I don’t know. But that wasn’t...it was something we were going to do together, you know? All those years we said we were going to get out of New Jersey someday. But...but then suddenly it was just you, you were going to go away and I was gonna get left behind to rot. I knew I couldn’t do it on my own...you know I ain’t got nothing going for me, Ford. I mean, you heard what they said.”

Ford was thrown by this last one. “What? What who said?”

“In the office that day.” Stan put on a less than flattering impersonation of their high school principal. “At least you’ll have one son staying in New Jersey forever.”

Ford bit his lip, hard. “I...I didn’t know you heard that.”

“Of course I heard that, Ford, I was right outside the door! They didn’t even have to call me up with you, but they did ‘cause…’cause, I don’t know, ‘cause they knew it didn’t matter what I did, I guess.”

Ford couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

He hadn’t known. Or maybe he had, deep down, but hadn’t wanted to. He had been offered a glorious opportunity, beyond all his wildest dreams, and all Stan had seemed to care about was his dream. He’d even made fun of Ford when he’d been raving about West Coast Tech, dismissed the first chance Ford had ever really had to be accepted for what he was as “some nerd school”. Unimportant compared to some childish dream that Stan just wouldn’t let go of.

He hadn’t ever thought that Stan might be scared. What would Stan have to be scared of? Stan could get by. He could talk his way into or out of anything, he blew off trouble like it was nothing, he could throw a punch and charm a girl and crack a stupid joke in the worst of circumstances. He could do all the things Ford couldn’t. He didn’t need a special school to escape to, didn’t need to dream of finally finding a place where he would be accepted, where his gifts would outweigh his flaws. He could make it anywhere.

Right?

Stan could hear Ford tapping his fingers against the phone, like he always did when he got stressed out and ran out of words. It was...almost comforting, to hear that unique rhythm again. One-two-three-four-five-six. One-two-three-four-five-six.

“So...so um, what have you been doing?” he said, desperate and unable to figure out anywhere else to take the conversation. “I mean...did you get into another school?”

He heard a small, bitter laugh on the other end. “I did. It sucks, though.”

“Oh.” Stan winced. “I-I’m sorry-”

“What about you? What happened to you? I’ve been wondering all summer-did you-” Ford actually giggled hysterically a little. “Did you find any treasure?”

“Oh. Uh...well, you’re not gonna believe this, but I’ve actually been working at this museum-”

“What? A museum? You?”

“I know, I know, rub it in. I’m turning into a proper nerd, I am.” He ran a finger along the rim of the glasses tucked into his pocket. “See, I, uh, I kinda got...rescued by this guy. Rory. That was him you heard a minute ago...he runs this museum and he sorta, I guess he saw me off the coast ‘cause I was kind of drifting...so he sailed out and got me, and then he said he needed help for the summer...he’s real nice, Ford, like you wouldn’t believe. He gave me a place to crash and everything…”

 “That’s-that’s great, Stan.” He was smiling now and he couldn’t seem to stop. “But...you did have to get rescued.”

“I wouda been fine,” Stan grumbled, but there was no heat in it.

“So...where is this place, anyway? Did you get out of New Jersey after all?”

Stan laughed, big and loud, and Ford hadn’t even realized how much he’d missed that laugh. “I did! I did! I didn’t get real far but I got out of New Jersey all right! So I guess they were wrong after all, huh?”

“Yeah,” Ford said, grinning and definitely not crying, not even a little bit. “About...about a lot of things…”

  Rory was waiting in the main room of the apartment with a smile when Stan finally walked out of the kitchen.

“Well?”

“You...uh...I guess you were right,” Stan mumbled. He was blushing and looking away, but he couldn’t quite hide the happy note in his voice.

Rory grinned and stood up to clap him on the shoulder. “I’m real glad I was. So...we made a deal, right?”

Stan’s eyes widened in realization. “That’s right! And let me tell you, I could really go for one of those banana splits right now…”

  It was only one o’clock, but Stan had already cleaned the entire museum from top to bottom, rearranged the gift shop twice, weeded the garden and polished each plaque til it shone, and given two tours at such a break-neck pace that the tourists had looked a little shell-shocked at the end.

Rory let him do it, knowing there was no real point in telling Stan to calm down, but he was relieved when the El Diablo finally pulled up outside.

Stan stopped and stood in the doorway. All of the frantic energy seemed to have suddenly left and taken interest with it; he had gone still as a statue, eyes wide, his shaking hands the only remaining sign of life.

Rory came up and put a gentle hand on Stan’s shoulder, and together they watched Ford slowly get out of the car and walk across the parking lot.

For a moment the twins just stood there, staring at each other. Rory looked back and forth between them and finally broke the spell by whistling loudly. “Damn! You two really are the spitting image of each other.”

Next thing he knew the twins were laughing and hugging each other so tight he was surprised no one came out of it with cracked ribs.

“You must be Rory,” Ford said when they had finally broken apart, adjusting his disheveled glasses.

“And I take it you’re Stanford.” Rory offered his hand. Ford hesitated, but the old man didn’t even glance at the six-fingered hand he shook.

“Well, c’mon in and look around,” he said, leading the way back inside. “You’re in time to catch Stan’s last tour in a little bit. It’s a treat, let me tell you…”

  The tiny kitchen being barely large enough for two people, let alone three, Rory insisted on taking them out to eat that night. He listened fondly as the twins chattered around a table at Rico’s. Stan told stories about the tour groups he’d had and gave them the impression of a Minuteman he was working on; Ford told them, a little hesitantly, about Backsupmore.

“It’s...not great,” he said, spreading the pamphlet out on the table for them to look at it. “But I think I can make it work. If I work hard enough.”

Stan rubbed the back of his neck and looked away.

“So, what was this project you had?” Rory asked, before the awkward silence could stretch too thin. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Ford’s eyes lit up and he launched into a complicated spiel about the theory behind the perpetual motion machine that had Stan groaning and rolling his eyes theatrically. Rory blinked and nodded valiantly in the face of a truly staggering amount of math.

“That sounds real damn impressive,” he said when Ford had finally petered out. “Even after hearing all that, they still turned you down?”

“Er...well, they didn’t,” Ford mumbled. “Hear it, I mean. I didn’t really get to talk about it. As soon as they saw the machine was broken they crossed me off their list.”

“Just like that?” Rory made a loud noise of disgust. “Sounds to me like they weren’t worth your time anyway.”

The look of shock on Ford’s face was so comically extreme that Stan would have howled with laughter if he hadn’t been still been feeling shameful.

“It’s the most prestigious school in the country!” Ford squawked once he’d finally found his voice.

“Oh, I ain’t saying anything against their credentials,” Rory said. “I’m sure they’re real impressive. But if they wrote you off that quickly...well, it doesn’t sound to me like a place that’s real interested in seeing people thrive, y’know?” He stirred his straw around in his ice water thoughtfully. “Now, science is science, and I know things get real serious when you’re dealing with that sort of thing...but if you ask me, the people who really matter will always give you a second chance.”

Ford stared at him.

Fortunately their pizza arrived before anyone had to figure out what to say next. For a while they all sat in the kind of deeply serious silence that could only be achieved by two adolescent young men with a large supreme pizza in front of them.

“So,” Rory said at last, once they were finally slowing down, “you boys got some kind of plan worked out, I take it?”

The twins nodded. “I’m gonna drop Ford off at his school on my way up to Tom’s place,” Stan said. “It’s actually only a couple of hours away from there...”

“Good, good. I’m glad things are working out for you.” He leaned back and watched fondly as Stan gave his brother an affectionate punch on the shoulder. “You know, I think you kids are gonna go far.”

   They left early the next morning, though only after Rory had made one last batch of pancakes for everyone, which they took outside and ate in the garden while the sun came up. Ford and Rory made remarkably un-awkward small talk about the various species of plants in the garden while Stan packed up his things. It didn’t take long.

As he went to toss the battered duffel bag in the back seat of the El Diablo he caught sight of a box with familiar contents.

“Hey...this is...you brought my comics!” Stan rifled through them eagerly, completely destroying the neat packing. “Wait, are some of these new?”

“I...may have bought some of yours over the summer...out of habit,” Ford mumbled. “There’s another box in the trunk with some of your stuff…” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away. “I...I knew Dad was just gonna throw it out once I was gone. I mean, he didn’t say he would, but…”

He broke off with an indignant yelp as Stan grabbed him and gave him an affectionate noogie. “You bought my comics? Ford, you dork! I bought them too!”

“...Sorry?” Ford squeaked from the depths of a headlock.

“Nah, it’s great! It’s great! You don’t even know the best part!” Stan let him go and produced his glasses with a flourish. “I can read them now without even having to bug you first!”

Ford opened and shut his mouth helplessly, staring at the garish gold lenses Stan had picked out. “...Those are hideous,” he finally managed.

“I know! Isn’t it fantastic?”

“Save me,” Ford muttered, gently bonking his head against the roof of the car. But he was smiling.

Rory was laughing so hard it took him a long minute to catch his breath. “Now, Stan, you’re going to keep in touch, right?”

“Of course!” Stan said. “I’ll send you souvenir postcards and everything.”

“Good, good. And I’ll look after that boat of yours for you until you can come get it. It’s not a bad little craft, you know.”

This time he was a little more prepared for the bear hug, but only a little.

“I owe you so much,” Stan mumbled. “I can’t ever repay you for all this…”

“Oof. You can start by not breakin’ my spine.” He laughed as Stan let him go sheepishly. “Nah, you don’t need to repay me anything. Seeing you go charging off to tackle the world is all I need. But can I give you one bit of advice before you go? It comes with a free mug,” he added, brandishing a souvenir lighthouse mug from the gift shop.

“Yeah, yeah, of course! Anything.”

Rory put his hand on Stan’s shoulder. “Don’t spend your life chasing those millions. It ain’t worth it. I know you want to prove yourself, but...well, if people don’t want to believe in you, they won’t. You can make all the money in the world and they’ll just find some other reason to turn you away. So forget them. Chase your own goals, not someone else’s.” He glanced over at Ford. “That goes for you too, you know.”

Ford looked down at his hands and said nothing.

Stan couldn’t think of anything to say either, so he hugged Rory again-more gently this time. “Thank you for everything.”

Rory wiped at his eyes. “Aw, go on, get. You two have got some adventures to be having. And take your mug with you.”

Stan took the lighthouse mug like it was the most valuable thing in the world. “I’ll call you when I get there?”

The old man grinned. “You damn well better!”

It took a fair amount more waving and farewells before they were actually ready to go, but at long last Stan started the engine. “I’ve missed you, old girl,” he said, patting the steering wheel. “Well, bro? Ready for the next day of the rest of our lives?”

“Put your seatbelt on, Stan.”

Stan rolled his eyes, but he obeyed. “Alright! Next stop...uh...definitely not New Jersey!”

Ford laughed and held up his hand almost shyly. “...High six?”

Stan looked startled for a minute, but then he grinned and all but slammed his hand into Ford’s. “High six!”

   A great deal of postcards, phone calls, photos and letters traveled back and forth between a certain three points on the east coast for the next few years. Stan sent out correspondence with stories about tourists and working with museum artifacts and fishing on his days off, and got back stories about Ford’s classes and his weird roommate and about life in the off-season at the museum. Ford complained to him about the food and the crummy dorm rooms, and Stan told him how his costume tended to itch and how some of the museum visitors couldn’t take a hint for anything.

He drove down to visit Rory for a few days over the winter holidays. Ford went home, but he left early and spent the last week of his break staying with Stan, visiting the museum and the docks and a little park that was, apparently, so amazing for bird-watching that Stan had to drag him out of it before he stayed so long he got hypothermia.

“So what do you think?” Rory asked his friend over the phone one morning in January as he sat in his kitchen with a cup of tea, watching the snow come down.

“Well, he does a great job with the re-enactment. Not, you know, the most historically accurate, but he really gets into it and people love him. Especially kids. But you know, I had him helping Joe touch up some of the dioramas and I gotta say, he’s got more of a knack for that than I would’ve expected.”

Rory beamed.

“I see what you meant about the self-esteem, though,” his friend went on. “Anytime I even kinda suggest he might’ve made a mistake he just gets this look on his face…”

The old man sighed. “Yeah. The kid’s had some tough breaks.”

“I can tell. But I think he’ll be alright…”

  Ford still worked himself to death if given half a chance, but his roommate took to calling Stan for backup when Ford stayed up too late or had panic attacks over exams. This was not, shockingly, detrimental to Ford’s academic performance. It might even have improved it, if such a thing were possible.

He eventually let it slip that he was keeping in touch with Stan, and had to endure a thunderous lecture from his father about how Stan was only going to drag him down and it was high time he learned to shake off that loser once and for all and hadn’t he learned his lesson after the science fair incident?

But his mother asked for Stan’s address.

  “So, you’re graduating soon, right?” Stan asked him over the phone one night. “When’s the date? I wanna be there.”

Ford hesitated.

“I...I mean, unless you don’t want me to,” Stan mumbled, twisting the phone cable around his finger. “I’d understand, if you didn’t want me around your smart friends and all-”

“It’s not that!” Ford said hastily. “I’d love to have you come, I really would! It’s just...Mom and Dad are coming up, and...I know...you and Dad...I mean, you might not want…”

Stan blew out a sigh of relief. “What, is that all? Sixer, I’m not letting Dad stop me from seeing you get that diploma! Lemme talk to Tasha.”

Ford stared at the phone. “Tasha? What-”

“So, what’s the day?”

Ford told him, and proceeded to worry himself sick for the next month about whether a large and ugly fight was going to break out during his graduation.

He needn’t have worried. Tasha, it transpired, did the makeup for the re-enactors at the museum.

“Wow,” was all he could say when he saw Stan the morning of the ceremony. “That’s...wow. I don’t even recognize you.”

Stan grinned at him from behind a large fake beard. “You hear that, Tasha? You made me up so good my own twin brother doesn’t know me.”

Tasha, a tiny woman with vibrantly pink hair, beamed like a spotlight. “Can I quote you on that for my resume?”

With some strategic planning they managed to get Stan-and Tasha-a seat as far away from their parents as possible. The plan went off without a hitch. Stan even remembered to cheer and scream “GO, FORD!” in a thick British accent.

A fight did, in fact, break out, but it was between Fiddleford and his nemesis in the Home Ec department, and the participants were separated from each other fairly quickly.

Later-after Ford had gotten a hug from his mother and a stiff handshake from his father, after dodging his way through questions about what he was going to do now and whether it would bring in any money, after Fiddleford had been given some strong coffee and had his banjo gently taken away for awhile, after Stan had scrubbed all or at least most of the makeup and spirit gum off-they all went out for drinks. Fiddleford talked about his plans to start up his own computer company. Ford talked about the grant he had gotten and his plans to study anomalies.

“There’s this little town out in Oregon called Gravity Falls that I’ve been researching,” he explained. “It has the highest concentration of anomalies in the world. All kinds of strange stories have come out of that place. So...I think I’m going to go out there and see for myself.”

“Gravity Falls, huh?” Stan said. “That sounds like a good place for a museum.”

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

(song)

[alexsunmners]

Roxy Morton general headcanons bc I love my girl @kurtwxgners @rax-writes @mvximoff validate me please

She wanted to be an astronaut when she was little

She broke her wrist when she was teaching herself how to cartwheel and she was distraught for ages because she thought it meant she couldn’t go to space

She was immensely relieved when she found out this was just bullshit

When she figured out she really didn’t like the whole concept of being really high up with the possibility of falling then she reluctantly relinquished the whole astronaut dream

She did ballet when she was younger

She wasn’t super into the whole tutu-pointe shoes-feminine delicacy aspect of it

But she liked the rigorous training and discipline and it made her feel strong and powerful

It also made her very physically fit

She gave up ballet for track when she was about fifteen

She had to decide how serious she wanted to be about ballet and ultimately, she decided she liked it but not enough to commit most of her life to it

She was okay at track, but she found she liked longer distances better because she could just stretch her legs and think for longer periods of time

Besides, hamstering around a track repeatedly was boring

She was like meh committed to track and it was good exercise so she kept it up but if something more interesting had come along then she’d probably have dropped it

She tried rowing because her mum suggested it and she hated it

Even more boring than track was

She didn’t like how pretentious and superior the rest of the crew tended to be

She liked to be busy, so she took up so many hobbies

Her dad taught her shooting and hunting when she was like fourteen/fifteen

She learned to ride when she was little

She speaks French, German and conversational Mandarin

She did some jujitsu when she was like thirteen because it seemed cool and she wanted to be able to fight

She’s a really book smart girl

Always did well at school

Especially in the maths sciences area

She likes how easy the numbers are to figure out and how consistent they are

It’s formulaic and reliable

She was relatively popular too because she’s always been willing to talk to anyone and be nice to everyone until they proved they didn’t deserve it

She’s never had patience for bullies

She was treasurer of the student leadership body

imo she was a STEM major at Oxford

She was always going to end up at Oxford-it’s the family legacy and she’s super smart so it was always The Plan

She always had a good head for science and engineering

Founder of her high school mathletes? Yes.

She was probably going to end up at a tech/engineering company if she hadn’t gotten recruited for the Kingsmen

She’s a nerd and everyone loves her for it

She’s not dyslexic but she’s a lil bit of a slow reader

She loves audio books

She really loves books and stories and narratives and literature but it’s easier and more enjoyable for her to listen to them rather than read them conventionally

She’ll take an audio book out on long runs and it’s a nice way to zone out

Good at makeup? Not really

It’s time consuming for her to do and kind of impractical for her to wear often

She likes when someone else does it though

She also loves loves loves having her hair played with

She’s utilitarian as fuck when it comes to clothing and personal style

Her style is tidy, clean, simple and practical

She’s not really hung up on what’s in fashion

She likes wearing dresses sometimes but in general prefers jeans/pants/whatever is most practical for the situation at hand

She’s meticulously tidy

She keeps her room perfectly in order because it helps her think 

She likes things to have a place and be where they’re supposed to

She learned to be orderly and tidy when she was pretty young because her parents insisted on it and it became a habit that she liked

She’s a big fan of classic british rock style music

Bowie, Rolling Stones, Coldplay

She secretly indulges in bubblegum pop as well though she’ll deny it to the ends of the earth

All through uni, she listened to film scores and soundtracks to help her focus

She loves documentaries

Doesn’t really matter what it’s about

Nature documentaries, how it’s made food documentaries, space documentaries, science documentaries? Loves them all.

She’s a giant dork and she loves learning for the sake of learning

She loves animals but she’s not great with them

Like she’s good at training them but she doesn’t find interacting with them personally all that rewarding or fun

She loves them and thinks they should be treated well and protected etc.

But she’s not super enthusiastic about interacting with them without a specific purpose i.e. training them so like? Playing with a pet? Not her speciality or something she finds relaxing

She can’t flirt for shit

She’s the best friend you could ever ask for and she’s good with objective relationship advice

But the second she’s got a personal investment or involvement in the issue she’s useless

She’s very blunt and to the point but she’s not good with ‘playing the game’ when it comes to flirting

[rcsettastone]

INTRODUCTION I.

D R .  E L É N A  P A V I A (  r o s e t t a  s t o n e  )

a gold snake curled around orange fruit. cat-eye sunglasses and a large hat that obscures one eye. the shadows of trees. your hair pulled back in a neat bun. low tide. black dresses with expensive earrings. old books with scribbles in the margins. a collection of sea shells. empty wine bottles and only one glass. raising your argument, not your voice. handwritten letters. an unknown silhouette behind a curtain. white silk nightgowns. standing in the sea to look at the moon. red wine and messy hair. twirling a pendant in your fingers. dancing on a beach. calls from unlisted numbers. hushed conversations. knowing what it is to have something taken from you.

age: thirty-one

sexuality: heterosexual (?)*

gender: cisgender female

allegiance & role: cambra historian & translator

a brief history: eléna is born to late-stage parents in southern spain on an andalusian horse ranch. while she loves both her parents, her father in particular - a large man with loud charisma - is her hero. at a wedding held on their ranch, a then-child eléna meets the man that would eventually become her Benefactor after she takes a cryptex from his room to play with. he in turn takes an interest in her due to her intellect and curiousity, and over the years checks in on her and the pavia family with increasing frequency. he sends her various puzzles, mental games, and monetary or material gains to her parents. simultaneously, eléna becomes increasingly aware of her father’s problems with alcoholism & gambling.

as she grows older, she aids her father in hiding some of the severity of his debts from her mother -- but as a result, their relationship begins to decay. at age 15, eléna is told by her benefactor that if she can achieve the exemplary marks he sets out of her, he will fund her attending university - transportation & accommodation included. after matching and exceeding what he wanted from her, eléna chooses to attend university in barcelona away from the family/life she has grown disenchanted with (read: her father). during this time, she sends back money given to her as an allowance by her benefactor to pay for her father’s continuing (albeit lesser) debts. she throws herself into schooling to the point of reckless obsession. with no friends or allies around her aside from the benefactor, she foregoes her health or any semblance of a personal life in order to please him and prove her worth. for a time, this single-minded recklessness proves effective, but is similarly efficient in draining her of energy and ability. with time, she begins to buckle under the weight of what she has pursued, developing insomnia and risking failure in at least one class. while it is never confirmed to her if the subsequent opportunity was brought to her by the benefactor, she cheats on a final exam after a classmate approaches her with concerns - and eventually the key to the examination. after graduation, she is given opportunities unsuited for someone as young and inexperienced as her due singularly to her connection to the benefactor. she has her daughter at (age undecided) -- the father is not in the picture, and does not play a role in their lives. nonetheless, due to the increasing financial aid of her sponsor to facilitate a proper home and childcare for her daughter, her career flourishes. with the birth of clio and an increasingly strained relationship, her father swears off drinking and gambling, and eléna ceases sending money back home.

having been sent to a dig in cairo, eléna at one point leaves her daughter with her parents in andalusia. upon coming home, she finds her father fallen victim to his old vices. but this time the ensuing argument reveals far deeper sins. in his inebriation and remorse, her father expresses her late birth was due to the full life he had lived prior to becoming a father and moving to the countryside -- - he was once a criminal and renowned thief. the only reason he had left this life behind was at the behest of her mother, and so they had purchased land far away from cities and temptation. the things he taught her and the childish games she had once played - learning to pick a pocket, the extensive treasure hunts, how to cheat at cards and never get caught - all made sense. 

she walks while her father begs forgiveness on his knees. he pleads for her to forget what he’s said, feign ignorance, go back to secrets. instead, she leaves with her daughter tucked into her arm, swearing he will never see her or his granddaughter ever again. 

eléna currently still receives money every month from her benefactor, which has increased substantially since her university days -- an unspoken seal to keep her quiet. it is enough to allow her to outright buy a large apartment in barcelona and far more luxuries than her cambra salary should allow. while she protests when he asks when he asks for another thievery, she has yet to not bring back what he requires. while he has never touched her inappropriately, eléna fears that and much more from him, should she fully refuse to participate in his charade any longer. she has been mulling over stealing a piece from ialis to sell illegally herself - only to finally accrue enough money and opportunity to remove herself from the control of her benefactor forever.  

fun facts:

putting this in the fact section as i’m unsure if i’ll make it canon yet, but my current thought (and the next big blow eléna couldn’t see coming) is that her father knew her ‘benefactor’ before they even met. something along the lines of he and his crew once stole art from the benefactor’s black market team/gang, and he’s been somewhat complicit - albeit full of anguish - in her being used by her sponsor.

her daughter clio is named after the grecian muse of history. haven’t fully decided on her age, but i’m thinking most likely 4 or 5. loves her more than anything, but does not talk about her with colleagues.

she loves to dance, and is exceptionally good -- but her adoration and skills only improve when she’s drunk. consider her the real life woman dancing in red dress emoji.

she has ABSIT OMEN tattooed on her outer right thumb/palm. it’s a latin phrase meaning “let an omen be absent.”

if that last fact didn’t clue you in, she’s surprisingly superstitious. she got her tattoo in that specific location as if it might prevent harm from the archaic, arcane things she touches.

lapsed roman catholic; spiritual. 

she smokes, but only when on location for a dig. she refuses to pick up a cigarette back in spain, lest she carry some of the fumes around her daughter.

film photography is a big hobby of eléna’s. she has two cameras with her on ialis.

catch her doing yoga and/or meditation every morning, because she believes in the link between physical and spiritual/mental wellness.

like the history nerd she is, she has a cat named artemisia, affectionately known as mishy.

she has the uncannily quick hands - aka part of the reason she’s been able to successfully steal and smuggle out the various artifacts and objects over the years

your resident card queen - any game you’ve got, she’s the reigning champ

plots / connections under the cut !

JEWEL OF THE NILE. ( open to : cambra ) a coworker that has become what might be the only deep friendship eléna has with someone from cambra! to the level that they’ve actually met or at least know of her daughter uwu. basically gimme someone 

ROMANCING THE STONE. ( open to : taha & local guides ) a previous fling that was had while on location on another dig. they definitely did not imagine they would run into each other again -- bonus points if they don’t even know they’re both archaeologists/involved in the same field. how they are now is completely up for discussion!

THE MUMMY. ( open to : big bois ) i mean, look. i’m not gonna lie to you here. do i want the rick to eléna’s evelyn? absolutely. that’s pretty much all i gotta say about this.

RETURN OF THE MUMMY. ( open to : silly bois ) did you think i wasn’t gonna mention the jonathan to her evie? incomprehensible. give me the looser, more-fun potentially brother-like figure

SCORPION KING. ( open to : all ) eléna is complex, particularly when you start looking at her extracurricular thievery, but she is still a soft, quiet woman. you see a figure standing in the shallows at night looking at the moon? that’s her. this muse sees these sides of her and for one reason or another grows rather protective over miss moon-gazer

NATIONAL TREASURE. ( open to : preferably younger ) she is Cambra’s Official Mom, but this individual is someone she particularly looks after or checks up on -- could definitely be in taha too!

RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK. ( open to : all ) okay so this is kind of dependent on plot drops/how the game develops, but please give me someone to... break rules with her. cambra or taha, when eléna starts noticing something Else is going on on ialis island, her interest is going to extend far beyond 

TEMPLE OF DOOM. ( open to : all ) angsty exes, in short. this might work better with cambra, but could also work with someone else with the right plotting. we could go any direction with this, but my guess would be eléna ended the relationship due to her inability to become emotionally vulnerable/getting Scared of her Feelings

THE LAST CRUSADE. ( open to : all ) the current flirtation. walking to town together, or coincidentally bumping into one another at the main square and smiling from across the way. sitting too close. unnecessary compliments. wondering how long the tension is going to last.

SKULL ISLAND. ( open to : cambra ) a longtime coworker that is curious/suspicious/concerned over how the good dr. pavia always seems to keep herself at arm’s length from everyone... and nobody seems to know all that much about her

JOURNEY TO THE CENTRE OF THE EARTH ( open to : all ) someone as superstitious as eléna that can bond with her when the Strange Happenings start to occur on the island

* you may note there is a question mark next to eléna’s sexuality..... WELL. while her muse gives me tragically hetero vibes, every time i try and play that out it.... never works out the few times i try and do it. so. honestly don’t consider the door fully shut for any plots just bc your muse is nb or female, i just may need to think it over more!!!

wanted threads: drunk dancing by the fire, eventual skinny-dipping, getting trapped somewhere like the caves or a spontaneously collapsed pit, ur muse is getting in a fight with a local over a misunderstanding borne by the language disconnect and eléna comes in and smooths things over, stealing a book or notes from the taha camp