#its hard to know the science but a little goes a long way

[ranger-rai]

Who in the world added in the Pokedex that Talonflame can maintain its top speed carrying the equivalent of an adult’s weight (220 Ibs)? That fire flying type is barely four foot tall on average!

Well, it's important to remember that most of the "Official" Pokedex was compiled by old, outdated info and tall tales by children.

A lot of it is pretty surface level info for younger kids.

I'd recommend either downloading a third-party pokedex software online (super easy to do. We actually have a set up here at our base) that has a more practical index of pokemon.

Or we recommend downloading a similar Pokedex app for phones. (I'm more of a fan of actual dexes than phones, but that's just me.)

That's not to say that the pokedex doesn't have some interesting facts inside of it that hold truth.

Talonflame is a very powerful flying type, and a lot of its lift and speed is due to its heat, which generates a lift for it without exerting more strength.

So its ability to maintain its height and speed is thanks to the lift from its own heat.

Its grip is pretty impressive. (Irl some birds or prey can lift large animals like goats and sheep)

So, an average human of about 220 pounds might only require 2/3 of strength thanks to that heat lift.

Might need to dig a little deeper, but that would be my educated guess.

[seeingivy]

casual

suguru geto x f!reader

**loosely based on casual by my beloved chappell roan

—

in the three months that you spend with suguru geto, he leaves a sour taste in your mouth and it’s not only because he tastes like black coffee. and in the two months that follow, before your deeply unfortunate circumstantial reunion, the last five words that you uttered to him, the sentiment behind them, only seems to grow. 

you can go to hell. 

and it’s all you can think when he shows up to the emergency room – a pinkish sunburn across his nose, his hair messily tied back – and eyes dripping in a concern that fills you with a rage. and it’s a deep sigh that he gives you, before reaching for your hand. 

“what happened to you, peach?” 

--

the general education class that you choose to satisfy your values and ethics inquiry is the sociology of religion. counting all the stakes – a stellar review on rate my professors, a night class at the start of the week, and minimal homework – it makes for the most ideal choice. 

“so what’s your major?” 

the downside? the midterm and final project are group assignments. and on any other occasion, you would have appreciated it – getting to split the work, taking some of the load off and sharing the work with someone, except for the fact that you didn’t know anyone in the class – and for the most part, you were expecting some half-brained idiot that would make you do all the work. 

you suppose it’s at least fair that he’s not horrible to look at. in the dimmed lights of your apartment, there’s something almost off putting about your partner, suguru geto. you count seven piercings across his ears – dangling silver pieces almost shining in the glint of the light – and the smallest rim of purple around his eyes. harsh cheekbones, a hard jaw, and wrinkles by his eyes. 

“educational studies. what’s yours?” you state. 

“computer science.” 

you hum in response, filling the two glasses with water and snatching one of the peaches from its container before taking your seat across from him, noting that he has a dimple on the left side when he smiles in response to your gesture. 

“did you want some?” you ask, holding the peach in between the two of you. 

he shakes his head, slumping against the counter in what seems an almost unnatural pose – his long limbs spreading into the space underneath your chair. you wonder if he always had an unusual way of taking up space. 

and it seems that as time goes on, he gets more and more unusual. quietly working through the portions that you split up, except for a few deep breaths here and there, though he would stop once in a while and would almost ask for approval of what he had written, waiting for some confirmation from you that it was okay with you. 

“you’re comparing adam and eve to…orpheus? i’m not really familiar with that.” you state. 

suguru nods, before turning towards you to explain. his eyes waver in the slightest as he turns over to you, his gaze flitting down to your lips, before looking back up at you. 

“you don’t have to be polite. you really can have some if you want, it’s really sweet.” you state. 

suguru smiles. 

“maybe later.” 

you shrug. 

“so orpheus…” 

“it’s a really old greek myth. orpheus and eurydice. to kind boil it down, eurydice is in the underworld with hades. and orpheus is trying to convince hades to let her return to the mortal world, with him.” 

he scoots his chair a little bit closer to you and you’re able to note one thing – that there’s a resonance in his voice, that it hums in his chest when he talks. 

“hades tells him that he’ll let him take eurydice with him, but on one condition. she has to walk behind him.” 

“that’s not that hard.” 

suguru grins. 

“isn’t it?” he asks. 

you pause. 

“you’re being told by this big, all powerful god, that she’s walking behind you. but you can’t look. you wouldn’t even consider the fact that you were being fooled? that maybe she had decided not to follow?” 

“i mean, i guess. i don’t think it would really cross my mind, i…i think i’d just follow out all the way til the end because i’d kind of have faith if that’s what i was promised. and that she’d want to come with me too.”  

suguru pauses, like he’s almost taking in what you’ve said – like it’s the first time he’s heard it – and responds rather slowly. 

“you’re rather trusting, aren’t you?” 

you roll your eyes. 

“is that such a bad thing? what do you think about it?” 

suguru shrugs. 

“it was a worthless pursuit in the first place. there was no way that he wouldn’t have turned around and looked back.” 

“what do you mean?” 

“it’s simple. he loves her. if he hears something that deceives him – like the sound of her tripping over a rock – he doesn’t think. he looks back. if he thinks that she isn’t there, he won’t be able to get over it and he’ll turn around.”  

you pause, mulling the thought over. and you suppose it’s true – that if you really did love something, it would be almost impossible not to check for the promise of their presence. 

“i guess. so what? she goes back to the underworld?” 

“yeah. it’s one of the most tragic love stories.” 

“i guess it’s kind of romantic. that he loved her so much that he had to look back, like it was almost an instinct.” 

and in the split second that the two of you stare at each other, he leans forward, pressing his lips to yours, with the strong taste of coffee lingering on his lips. 

you’ve kissed three people before in your life – the boy you sat next to in the seventh grade, your date to the prom, and now suguru geto. 

the first was overwhelming. a quick locking of the lips, that at the time, made you nearly erupt into a puddle of butterflies. the second was lackluster. waxy from too much chapstick, abrupt from the fact that he was quick to shove his tongue in your mouth. 

and the third was indescribable. only because you could feel it – something lingering under his demeanor that you couldn’t exactly place. there wasn’t a word for the feeling it gave you – though there was one that was close enough. 

curiosity. about what that feeling is, about who suguru geto was, and why he felt so inclined to kiss you upon your third meeting. 

you wanted more of it. 

“you’re right, you know?” he murmurs, breath warm against your lips. 

“about being trusting?” 

he laughs. 

“no. about the peach. it really is sweet.” 

he leans back, eyes fixed on the reading in front of the two of you again, as you reach up to touch your lips, the sticky sweetness of the fruit gone from your skin. 

--

suguru comes around often after the fact. always here and there, an almost abrupt and concise text testing the waters. 

[suguru]: is your roommate home? 

[you]: nope. she’s at the district. 

[suguru]: can i keep you company?

[you]: okay! 

and he always arrives promptly twenty minutes after the fact, to the point where you wondered if he lingered around just to get there as fast as he could. and never empty handed – with dinner, dessert, or a flower that he plucked out of the cement in his hands. 

that was the thing that confused you about him. 

after the very first time you kissed, he had made one thing very clear. 

no attachments. you’re not together. 

but yet, he’d show up sometimes and do nothing but kiss your forehead and sleep in your bed next to you. or make you do something entirely mundane – like watch toy story three with a sheet of cookies in your oven – or watch you study. 

and in the two weeks you had known him, you knew better than to question. your curiosity never stopped you, but you found that you were always left with more questions than the vague answers that he gave you.  

“hey peach?” 

“yeah?” 

“your mom is calling.” 

you widen your eyes, immediately snatching the phone from him, and giving him a weary smile. and you side shuffle into the walkway between the laundry and your bedroom, pressing the phone to your ear and murmuring under your breath. 

“hi mom.” 

“hi doll. how are classes?” 

you pick at the loose thread of your sweater, nearly breaking the seams of the sleeve, noting suguru’s curious eyes – that he’s very poignantly trying to hide – from the kitchen. 

“they’re good, ma. what’s up?” 

“right. i’m so sorry to do this to you, my sweet, but i won’t be home when you get back.” 

“what?” 

“we’re going on a trip to see sheila in new york. and well, her vacation is only during those dates and we want to spend as much time with her as we can.” 

you sigh, the frustration tempering in yoru chest. 

“i already paid for the tickets. i saved up for a month trying to buy a flight back.” 

“darling, i know. i’m really sorry, but you know how it is. she just gets so stressed out that we just wanted to go out there and make her holiday nice.” 

“and what about my holiday? you don’t want me to have a nice christmas with my family?” 

you can feel it burning in your cheeks – that embarrassing feeling that’s been simmering in your chest since you were kid. a mix of an insurmountable amount of envy and dejection, from trying to vie for attention from the second that you realized you never had it. 

“don’t try to make me feel guilty.” she scolds 

“i’m not trying to make you feel guilty! i just wished you would have thought about me too.” 

you hear an irritated sigh on the end of the line, which is your first sign that you had made a mistake. because if there was one thing you knew how to do, it was push your mom’s buttons. 

you wonder if it’s because she sees herself in you – and that utter hatred that she has for herself was now placed on you instead. 

“do you always have to be so curt with me?” 

“i’m not being curt, i just…” 

“maybe when i die, you’ll think back and wished that you had appreciated me more. been more understanding that i’m not just your mother, i am someone’s friend too. that i have my own life. and that at the very least, my friends like to call me here and there. acknowledge me while you do god knows what wherever you are.” 

“okay, well, i –” 

“enjoy your christmas. we’ll see you in the spring.” she states. 

there’s a static on the other end of the line and you drop your phone, staring at the dark screen in your hands for the few seconds that follow. and you must have been standing there for too long, because a few minutes later quiet footsteps accompany you in the dimly lit hallway, suguru’s head obscuring the light from the bulb. 

“hi peach.” 

“did you hear all of that?” 

“no.” he responds. 

you look up at him and glare. and he reaches forward, hands soft on your cheek wiping away the wetness that you hadn’t noticed. you’re not sure when you started crying. 

he leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“you’re a liar. if you’re one thing, it’s nosy.” you respond. 

he smiles. 

“maybe when it comes to you. what happened, pretty girl?” 

you shake your head, his grabby hands coming around your waist as he presses you closer to his chest. you can hear his heart thumping against your ear, the metal of his necklace cold on your cheek, as you heave a sigh. 

“nothing.” 

“oh, come on, peach.” 

you look up at him, expectant and full brown eyes waiting for an answer, as you give in. 

“i just thought i would be going home next week for break. but i think i’m just going to stay here.” 

“because your parents are going to…” 

“see their friends in new york.” 

suguru frowns. you can’t tell if it’s pity in his eyes. 

“it’s not a big deal. i just was expecting to go home, that’s all. and it’s not that big of a deal that i’m going to stay here, the weather is nice and it’s probably frigid cold there.” 

suguru pauses. 

“you’re going to be here alone?” 

“yeah. my roommate is from the east coast.” 

“you should come home with me, for break.” 

you look up at him, eyes wide. 

“what?” 

“s’not that far from here, i usually just make the drive. there’s a nice coffee shop on the way that i always stop at for some energy. and my mom is really nice.” 

you shake your head, almost too violently. 

“i can’t just go home with you. i wouldn’t want to impose.” 

suguru pulls back, his fingers fast on the screen, as he murmurs under his breath, his voice uncharacteristically soft. 

“you’re not an imposition to me, peach. i can’t leave my baby here alone.” 

“sure. but to your parents, and…and staying rent free in your house.” 

suguru grins, handing over the phone to you, as you read the texts on the screen. 

[suguru]: can my friend come home with me for break? her name is y/n. 

[mom]: YES!!!!! 

[mom]: A GIRL! 

[suguru]: not like that

[suguru]: but she’s sweet 

[mom]: I’M GETTING EVERYTHING READY 

you look down at the phone, noting the sweet heart emoji that he has near her contact name, the contact photo a picture of the two of them when he was considerably younger, hugging cheek to cheek. 

“and i stay rent free in your apartment all the time.” 

“suguru, this is…weird. i can’t just come home with you, that’s…that’s too much.” 

he shakes his head. 

“it’s casual. we’re just friends, you’re just coming home with me for break so you won’t be here alone.” 

right. you’d almost be inclined to believe him – if it wasn’t for the fact that the time you spent around him, the more curious you got. 

the more that feeling festered in you, wanting to know anything and everything about him, wanting to crawl deep into his skin and memorize everything and make sense of why he was the way he was. 

“you promise?” 

“for sure.” 

--

“you’re a loser.” 

mei mei is never one to mince her words. and you’re grateful for it – because it’s something that you need when you return from your two weeks stay in long beach with suguru over the break. 

because despite the words that he told you, the ones that you didn’t really believe anyway, you come back in a worse state than you expected. 

you think you love him. 

because in the days of uninterrupted time that you spend together, you let your mind wander too far. because in the quiet moments that the two of you had – knee deep in the passenger seat outside the stupid coffee shop you stopped at, giggling in the bathroom when you went to dinner, and tangled in the bed sheets with him every night – you let yourself taste too much. 

let your mind run a little too wild. thinking about meeting his friends at the pier he showed you, of living together in an apartment in the following year. 

and the two of you teeter a dangerous line. putting each other as emergency contacts, swapping your wardrobe in between your flats, and showering together every morning – his soft hands massaging the shampoo into the roots of your hair.  

“don’t be mean.” you state. 

“i’m not being mean, i’m just saying that…” 

mei mei sighs, cheeks in her hand, with an almost irritating look in her eyes – wholeheartedly judgemental. she just didn’t get it. 

“look, he’s friends with todo. that guy i know from the finance club? and i asked around about him, apparently he loves to brag about how he gets girls off all the time. now either he’s talking about you – clearly not the way you talk about him – or he’s talking to someone else.” 

you sigh. because you can’t even put it past him. because in the months you had known him, he was impossible to understand. a futile effort to read. impossible to touch. 

“look, i’ll just ask him later.” 

and when he comes around your apartment, well after mei mei has left, he brings a slice of peach cobbler that his coworker insisted that he take home with him. 

“peach cobbler for my peach!” 

you wince. 

“that was corny. even for you.” 

“i saw an opportunity and i took it.” suguru responds, shrugging as he loops his arms around your waist, chin resting against the top of your head as he eyes the pot of boiling ramen on your stove. 

and you bite the bullet as fast as you can. 

“do you see other girls?” you ask. 

“huh?” 

you swallow hard, dry patch in your throat, as you feel the sweat tickling the top of your forehead. it’s from the heat of the stove. 

“do you see other girls? or guys?”

“no. do you?” 

you shake your head. and you’re unsure how to word the next question – because there was something humiliating, too bare about having to admit that you want more to him – when things were so sweet as they were. 

perhaps you should have known better. coffee was always bitter at the end. 

“why do you ask?”

you shrug. 

“dunno. was just thinking about us. and how we spent break together and all that.” 

suguru presses a kiss to your hairline. 

“yeah? did you have fun?” 

you hum in response. 

“yeah. i really liked the city. and your mom and your sister. it was really sweet of you to take me.” 

you pause, wincing as you decide to be as blunt as possible. 

“and i like you.” 

he laughs. 

“well, i like you too.” 

“no, no, i like you. well, i more than like you, but i…i can’t say those words.” 

there’s a silence. and his arms feel like loose limp noodles around you. and you realize now, that you made the wrong choice. you turn around, only to find hollow brown eyes staring at you, the makings of a frown on his face. 

“suguru?” 

he winces. 

“i can’t.” he whispers. 

“why not?” 

and you’re not sure what it is, but it throws him into a panic. with his facial features scrunched up, eyes hollow, and nervous hands running through his hair. 

“i just can’t.” 

you cross your hands over your chest, the bitter contempt of rejection blooming in your chest, as you look down, picking at the scab on the inside of your palms as you ask again. 

“i said i didn’t want any attachments.” he adds. 

“i know. but can you blame me for being confused? you took me home to see your family.” 

“as a friend.” 

“you didn’t act like my friend while we were there.” 

suguru groans. 

“and that’s my fault, i know that but –” 

that one stings. admitting that he regrets it. 

“okay, well. that’s alright. maybe you should leave now, then.” you state. 

“wait peach, no. i don’t want to leave, i just..” 

you scoff. 

“you don’t want to leave?” 

“no?” 

it comes out meek, almost timid when he utters it. a question. like he can’t even admit it fully – that he wants to stay. and it fills you with anger, searing red hot anger on the heels of being cast aside so nonchalantly, that it comes to a head then and there. 

“do you really think so little of me?” 

“what? 

“i’m not good enough to be your girlfriend. but whatever else you want, that’s fine. i…i thought you thought of me better than some girl you just fuck around with.” 

suguru sighs. 

“you’re not some girl i just fuck around with.” 

“am i not, though?” 

suguru shuts his eyes, the look on his face is so pained – so miserable – that it irritates you. 

“you’ve made it abundantly clear. that you like me a decent amount, but not enough to care about whether or not you’ll lose me.” 

you bite down so hard on your lip that the taste of metallic blood fills your mouth, coupled with warm tears in your eyes. 

“and for that, you can go to hell.” 

--

“what happened to you, peach?” 

you scoff, curling your nose at the old nickname, as he yanks the closest stool – his legs still too long to even be comfortable on the thing as he leans forward, noting the dried blood on your forehead. 

“a car accident. you can leave now.” 

suguru frowns, almost resembling a kicked dog, as he shakes his head. there’s something softer about his expressions now – something you’re sure is a byproduct of the time you spent apart or the fact that you have a broken rib – and you choose to ignore it for the time being. 

“i can’t just leave.” he whispers. 

“and why not?” 

suguru shakes his head. 

“you have a broken rib. and a deep cut on your forehead. forgive me if i’m concerned about you.” 

“i can’t. knowing you, you’ll casually linger around here for a few days, and when you figure it’s appropriate to leave, you’ll be gone with the wind.” 

the two of you sit there in silence, the harshness of the words hanging in the air between the two of you. 

and yet again, suguru geto leaves you with a never ending pit of curiosity. about what he was doing here, to ask how he is – to make it a note to him that his cheeks look fuller, that his eyes aren’t rimmed red anymore, and that he looks good. 

that you like the new hairstyle. that it killed you when he wasn’t around anymore. that you still want him to go to hell. 

suguru twists the silver ring on his pointer finger a few times – a fourth, a fifth, and a sixth – before you break the silence, your curiosity getting the best of you another time. 

“why are you here?” 

“they called me. i’m your emergency contact still.” 

“no, i gathered that. why are you here?” 

suguru pauses, swallowing hard before responding. 

“if orpheus hears something that deceives him – like the sound of eurydice tripping over a rock – he doesn’t think. he looks back.” suguru states. 

you scoff. vague again. 

“right.” 

“no, really. i got the call. and i didn’t think and just showed up. i just…just had to see you.” suguru states. 

he pauses. 

“it’s kind of romantic, don’t you think? that he loved her so much that he had to look back, like it was almost an instinct.”

you turn to glare at him, at the audacity of him repeating your own stupid words back to you. 

“is it? because his carelessness left her in hell with hades.” 

suguru scoffs. 

“i never did tell you the end of the story, did i?” 

you roll your eyes. 

“orpheus becomes so distraught that he uses his lyre to charm death – just so that he can return to the underworld to be with her. and people debate how it happens, him being ripped apart by irate women or getting killed by the menades, but it does happen. he dies and goes to the underworld. and in some versions, people think that he reunites with her in the underworld. and she forgives him.” 

“and why would she do that?” you ask. 

“because he tried his best to do right by her. he was asked to do one thing – to stay away. and that’s what he did, because…because i know you’re right. because you do deserve better, i do think the world of you and think you deserve to be with someone who wants to be with you, the way that you want.” 

suguru pauses. 

“it’s not my fault that i can’t help but look back. i can’t do anything about the fact that i love you.” 

you swallow hard, an embarrassing amount of regret – mixed in with that deep longing that he left in your chest – searing through you. 

“in the casual way, right?” you respond, sarcastically. 

he groans. 

“it’s not casual at all. it wasn’t casual when i leaned forward to taste the sweetness of the peach on your lips – especially when i fucking hate peaches. and it wasn’t casual when i took you home with me, it was…i just couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone. and it’s not fucking casual that i drove three hours when i was supposed to be home this weekend just because i the thought of you sitting in this room alone, in pain, was driving me crazy.” 

you wince, turning to look at him. and it seems that in the mere acknowledgement of his presence by locking his eyes, it seems to fill him with something – something that puts the whisper of a smile on his face. 

“what?” 

“i turned around for you. i didn’t know i would, but now that i have, i…i realize that i probably always would have.” 

“okay?” you whisper. 

“are you going to forgive me for it? not doing it earlier, for…for not getting it right the first time?” he asks. 

you pause, mulling the thought over. and the silence, he takes it as an invitation to plead his case. 

“i’ll beg. i’ll get on my hands and knees if that’ll do something to make it better.” 

you turn to look at him. 

“you…you’re special. i haven’t forgotten about you and…and i know we had something. just let me fix it? i’ll get you a hundred gifts, i’ll tell you a hundred times and i’ll - oh!’ 

he reaches into his bag, shoving his arms into the depths of the pockets, before yanking out a little napkin and reaching forward, opening your hand and placing it in your palm. 

“a tissue?”

“open it.” 

and you oblige, unfolding the tissue to see four little gummy peach rings in the napkin, before turning back to him. 

“peach rings?” 

“for my peach! i eat them all the time now, even though i fucking hate peaches. i only had a few left so i grabbed what i had left when i ran out. and i ate some on the way on accident because i was nervous, worried about you and all..” 

you look down, the sugary crystals on the candy almost sparking in the light, as you look back at him. and he's wholeheartedly different - not the cool, cold guy you left behind, but a weird mess of awkwardness and jitters, and maybe even the tiniest hint of desperation.

he seems wholeheartedly more touchable this way.

“you make no sense.” you state.

suguru frowns. 

“i know. but i’m trying.” he responds. 

and you sigh, wiping your hands at your side, before eating one of the candies. bitter at first, but sweet at the end. 

“suppose that’s my problem then. i’ll have to figure you out.” you respond. 

suguru’s face splits into a smile, his motions so eager as he leans over the railing of the bed, the angle entirely off as he leans forward to kiss you. and it’s entirely different from every other time you’ve kissed him – full and whole, a warm and tender promise behind it. 

“you’re wrong, you know?” you whisper. 

“about what?” he murmurs. 

“the peaches. they taste good.” 

he laughs. 

“is that right?” he whispers, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips, as he wavers his eyes up again, to the cut on your forehead. 

he leans forward, pressing a kiss to the bandages, before pulling back, lips lingering over yours. 

“i think i need one more to decide.”

--

an: idk.

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[neiptune]

i don't want you like a best friend

cw: 4.2k wc, female reader, soulmate au, friends to lovers, tendo may be the only person in the world without a mark and it's quite hard to convince him that, most times, the universe doesn't know shit

“Holy shit, this is the best thing I ever tasted”.

“Don’t lie”.

“I’m not!”.

Tendo narrows his eyes, unimpressed.

“You said that about the last five bonbons”.

“Listen, the one with port and cinnamon was great n’all but this is a cookie dough brown butter bonbon. I’m blown away. I want to sleep with this one. I want to buy it dinner and then take it to bed”.

That’s when Satori laughs, loud and boisterous as he still allows himself to be around you. It makes you smile, seeing him happy.

“Tell me the secret to crafting these”.

“Again?”, he snorts, “I already explained the process a million times”.

“Wanna hear it again. I like how you talk about it”.

“Okay, weirdo”, there’s fondness and a silent invitation in the way he pushes the little box of his latest experiments towards you.

It’s soothing, comforting, listening to instructions you’re already familiar with. Tendo goes over how important it is to choose flavors that are fun and still be attentive enough to make sure the chocolate stands on its own: flavoring components should never completely ride over it. He skillfully exercises subtlety when coming up with new combinations, always keeps the interior so creamy and smooth the treat ends up melting in a delicious puddle on one’s tongue. The outer layer should never be too thick, chalky or cakey: that’s why he prefers to form most of the chocolates with his hands instead of using a mold.

There’s creativity involved in what he does but there’s also science. It requires a lot of patience, most of his work is made of tedious steps repeated over and over again within specific time limits and a perfectly calculated temperature. It fits him, you believe: Tendo’s always been diligent and persevering, no matter what the world threw at him.

He puts a lot of work in his boxes too, especially the ones he has to ship. They’re all triple-insulated, double-stuffed and always perfectly packed. A cute, colorful thank you card always goes hand in hand with each purchase, if he receives orders for a birthday or a special gift he’d even write a personal note as an addition. As a foreigner, it hasn't been easy to establish himself as a reliable chocolatier in a city like Paris, but he now has a pretty loyal clientele and the shop is basically never empty.

“That one’s my favorite”, Satori’s eyes zero on the bite-sized bonbon you’ve picked from the box.

You hum, appreciating the way the chocolate melts in your mouth. It’s not as good as the previous one but you recognize the artistry with which the flavors fuse with each other, chocolate ganache with clementine and hazelnuts, just a hint of lemon zest.

“They’re all incredible, ‘Tori. You’re very talented”. Tendo smiles.

“Thank you”, he mutters, grateful, “now, can we talk about it?”.

“There’s nothing to talk about”, you dangle your legs from the counter of the little production kitchen in the back of his boutique shop, closed for the day. It’s incredibly tidy, smells of soap and citrus.

“You impulsively booked a flight across the world because of a guy”.

Ouch.

“I flew across the world to visit my best friend”, you scowl, “thought he’d be happy to see me”.

“I’m fucking ecstatic, ma chérie”, it’s probably the happiest he’s been in years, “but we need to talk about it. Tell me what’s on your mind?”.

He can see the bags under your eyes, the usual brightness missing from your smile, playful vibration to your jokes absent. He knows you’re hurting and while he’d be thrilled to keep you in Paris for as long as you wish, Tendo has to know what’s broken before he even attempts to mend it. His gaze falls on a specific portion of skin of your wrist and a sigh slips past his lips.

“He broke up with me”, you articulate slowly, “said we weren’t compatible. Said it’s safer to abandon the delusional ideas that drew us close to each other and do things how they’re supposed to be done. According to the plan”, there’s a grimace on your face that pairs well with how you spit out the last words.

“Did you show him?”.

“No, you know I don’t do that anymore. He didn’t see mine and I never wanted to see his. He agreed to that”.

“Right”.

“And then, I don’t know, he did what everyone always does. Changed his mind”.

Satori sighs. Truthfully, he’s always been a little sad about your mark being permanently covered with thick foundation, concealer or whatever else. It’s been years. He misses seeing the little crooked triangle on your wrist.

“Well, maybe…”, he starts but is soon interrupted by a loud scoff.

“Don’t”.

“But they’re not wrong. The universe has it all layed out for you, maybe it’s time you stop being so stubborn”.

“I don’t care about the universe, Satori. The universe is not going to take away that choice from me, it should belong to me. I don’t want to be destined to someone, I want to be chosen by them”.

He deflates in the plastic chair he’s sitting on. Can’t really argue with that logic.

Ever since middle school, when your mark first appeared, you never wanted to succumb to the whole the cosmos has already decided who the perfect person for me is bullshit. You simply can’t accept giving up the freedom of falling in love with whoever you wish to pursue, regardless of the universe agreeing or not. That’s why you never really cared about matching marks and all that jazz, always dated those who seemed not to care either. But after a number of failed relationships, it became painfully obvious that deep down, everyone always believes marks are the real deal. It’s why you decided you never wanted to see the mark of the next guys you’d date, and certainly didn’t want to show yours anymore. Sometimes it’s even hard to remember it’s still there, underneath stubborn layers of concealer. You hated it your whole life.

“You’re right. It’s your life, you should live it however you see fit”, they’re idiots for giving up on someone like you in the name of a dumb sign or whatever anyway.

“I thought you’d understand this more than anyone, you’ve always hidden your mark too. I don’t even know what it looks like and it’s okay! It’s yours! Shouldn’t belong to anyone else’s prying eyes”, you pick another chocolate truffle from the special box he’s sorted for you. It’s red velvet flavored.

Tendo insisted on calling his shop like that, rouge velours, deaf to the literal translation not being entirely correct. The french need to associate the word gâteau to it, it has to be a red velvet cake. But he didn’t care, adamant in going with just red velvet.

It was a joke you had blurted out at the end of high school, sitting on the curb outside your favorite konbini on the way home, another summer evening made of snacks shared underneath the street lamps. Satori said he wanted to move to France and learn how to make handmade chocolates, open a shop and everything. You suggested it should’ve been called red velvet, would’ve paired well with his hair. It never crossed your mind that he would take your suggestion seriously.

Frankly, Tendo’s not changed much since high school. He’s a little taller, broader in the shoulders, prefers a buzz cut. He’s still cheerful, less loud if you’re not around, enjoys singing made up tunes to himself while he works, occasionally takes part in volleyball games when neighbors or friends from the gym invite him. More than anything, he’s still the kindest, most generous friend one could have.

You used to be a little jealous of Ushijima, never one to accept easily to be downgraded in the best friends ranking system. As a teenager, it was hard to acknowledge that Satori’s heart is simply big enough to fit everyone he cares about in there. Not many people realized how much of an honor that was anyway, so there was plenty of space.

He still calls Ushijima to check up on him and the fact that they declared to be best friends during a television show didn’t leave a sour taste in your mouth as it would’ve back then. Wakatoshi is a nice guy, it definitely grew on you and it now gives you comfort knowing that Satori gets to throw the blanket of his affection over more than one person’s shoulders.

Not a day goes by without missing him, different time zones making it even more complicated to keep up with each other. Yet, he’s always the one willing to stay up late to talk to you, insists that while you work in the morning, he enjoys crafting chocolates in the middle of the night. That hardly matters, since you know he has to wake up early to open the shop.

“Hard to hide something you don’t have”, he grins from where he’s sitting, in front of you. Your dangling legs come to a halt.

“What?”.

“I don’t have a mark”, Satori shrugs, “not a big deal”.

“That’s impossible”.

“You’ve seen me naked”.

“Because you didn’t lock the damn bathroom door!”, your face heats up at the memory belonging to so many years ago. He snickers.

“Well, if I had a mark you’d know!”.

You pause, incredulous.

“Did you check your nails? Maybe it was in your hair and you shaved it off. Everyone has a mark!”.

“I don’t have it”, he knows, he’s checked every inch of his body for too long before giving up, “don’t act so shocked, it makes perfect sense”.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”.

Satori shrugs, a timid smile on his lips.

“I’m damaged goods. I wouldn’t expect to be the right fit for anyone, the universe decided to spare me and a potential unfortunate match the embarrassment”.

To him, it’s perfectly normal that there’s no one right for him out there. Or rather, that he’s not the right person for anyone. Who would want that, anyway? The guy who’s always been too weird to be looked at normally. The guy who always stands out the wrong way. If the universe has decided to be merciful enough to spare him the disappointment flashing over someone’s face upon discovering that he’s their soulmate, the only thing Tendo should feel is gratitude. 

“Don’t say shit like that ever again, Satori. Damaged goods? What the hell? You’re the best person I know!”, you almost throw the chocolate box at his head, “anyone would be lucky to have you as their soulmate. Anyone. I’m certain you’re the perfect match for a lot of people but I find it very hard to believe they’d deserve you anyway”.

You’re his best friend, you’re supposed to say all that. Yet, kept silent by that fiery glare of yours, Tendo can’t help but feel his chest warm up.

He didn’t necessarily have a crush on you in high school, that’s what he told himself anyway. When you started going out with Eita, part of him was relieved you went for someone normal. His teammate fell into the right category: Semi was attractive, had good grades, knew his way around girls. It was a good reminder of what Tendo wanted for you, of what you deserved. He cared deeply about your happiness and would’ve went to impossible lengths to shield you from all the bad there was in the world. That still hasn’t changed. Your best friend was what he was always destined to be and it was more than what he could’ve asked for, anyway.

And so it wouldn’t have been right to fantasize, to admit to himself that for the first time ever since he was a kid, Tendo wished to be the opposite of what he was. He dreamed of a different childhood, school days filled with friends, practice bursting with laughter instead of whispers, not a reason in the world to direct him curious or grossed out stares. He wished he was handsome, charismatic, funny in a way that made girls laugh in sincere amusement instead of discomfort. He wanted so badly to be everything he was not, for you.

When he admitted to himself that he loved you, deeply, ferociously, in a way that would’ve scared off any other human being, high school was over and so was his volleyball dream. Another fantasy coming to an end. Satori announced he wanted to move to Paris, expecting life, distance, a different time zone, your boyfriends, to make the friendship too heavy of a task to keep up with.

And yet, you stayed by his side. Most importantly, you wanted him to stay by yours. Tendo has never been much used to the feeling of being wanted, his presence wasn’t exactly desired by other people throughout his life. But you and Paris both taught him that maybe he does have something to give, something people can be willing to accept. So what if that something isn’t romantic love? He’s already luckier than he ever imagined he would get. He’s going to be okay, as long as you’re his friend. He’ll manage.

“Satori”, you snap him back to reality, “I mean it. Fuck the universe”.

Honestly, the only thing he’s mad at the universe for is making you so deeply unhappy. Tendo’s not sure he can forgive the cosmos for failing you so many times.

“Yeah”, he agrees lightly, “fuck the universe”.

Maybe Tendo had a point when he referred to your little vacation as ‘impulsive’, given that you never really travelled outside of Japan before. Yet, what initially was an easy escape from your disappointing reality and a wonderful excuse to finally visit your best friend, soon turned into a delightful adventure.

You reciprocated Satori’s hospitality by being as useful as possible: you’d keep his place tidy and clean, get groceries, cook dinner. He’d insist on ordering out, would try to snatch the vacuum cleaner from your hand, sometimes Tendo would come home later than usual with his hands filled with groceries just so that you didn’t feel like you needed to refill the fridge. But you liked being there and you loved taking care of him, especially since he vehemently refused to go back to sleeping in his bed and offering you the couch instead.

On his rare free days, Satori gladly gives you a tour of the city and his favorite places. When he’s working, you’d explore Paris on your own, the little map he drew by hand safely nestled in your pocket. Yes, you obviously have a phone, but the map makes each stroll all the more special.

Being with him and feeling genuinely appreciated, in a city so wonderful and far away from home, made you realize that perhaps the universe got it all wrong. Maybe there’s no one out there with a mark similar to yours. Maybe you’re not a match for romantic love in the first place. You’re already lucky enough as it is, with a friend so wonderful you can share lovely dinners with over episodes of silly tv shows, in a tiny apartment filled with affection and laughter. It’s the best you’ve felt in years and the idea of leaving has never felt as dreadful.

But everyone has to get back to their life eventually: there’s your job, bills, rent, you haven’t visited your parents in a while. All these things you’re having a real hard time caring about as Tendo offers another glass of wine, the bottle you’re sharing practically empty resting by his feet.

It’s your last night in Paris and he insisted on cooking for once, a full course dinner paired with an expensive Clos de la Roche. Notes of woods and cherries dance on your tongue when you take another sip and you shut your eyes for a moment, savoring the taste. How did you end up on his bedroom’s floor anyway? Was it him who suggested sitting on the carpet with your backs pressed against his bed? No, you’re almost certain it was you. Satori tries to be less weird as a grown up, by his own admission: he leaves odd suggestions and ideas to other people, too busy trying to fit in now.

You find yourself observing his profile as he torpidly blinks, his own gaze focused on the hands holding his glass. The line of his jaw, the perfect curve of his nose. You think he’s pretty, spiky hair no longer there to tear away one’s attention from his features.

“Did you date a lot, here?”, you ask, genuinely curious. He turns to look at you, amused.

“A lot? When did I ever date a lot?”, Tendo chuckles to himself but you recognize the hurt simmering underneath the humor. It hurts you, too.

“Well, did you date?”, your impatience feels surprising but there’s no time to dwell upon unfamiliar feelings, not as Satori hums with a lethargic nod.

“Yeah, a few times”.

“They didn’t ask about your mark?”.

Tendo’s lips twitch as he remembers how ecstatic the women he went out with were upon finding out that not only his mark didn’t match theirs, he didn’t even have one to begin with. He was the safest option they could ever date, no risk of forever.

“It’s easier to date someone you know you’re not gonna end up with”, he shrugs, “they felt more comfortable, it was fun and momentary, thus risk-free”.

You click your tongue in disapproval and Tendo cocks his head, confused by your scowl.

“They, they, they. I always hated this about you, you’re always focusing on what other people think. I want to know, how did you feel?”.

Maybe it’s the wine or maybe it’s the fact that you’re about to become a fugitive presence in his life once more, but for once Satori feels like huffing out his frustration.

“Like shit”, he admits with a sly smile, “I could fall for just about anyone and I’ll always know they’re not my person. I won’t ever have a person and it makes me feel like shit”.

You’re not sure why tears are suddenly pricking the corners of your eyes. Maybe it’s because it’s really hard to remember the last time Satori allowed himself to be vulnerable around you. It always felt like he talked more to Wakatoshi, man to man or whatever. You never felt like you could be fully there for him and now it’s almost too late again, only a few hours before you fly off to the other side of the world.

“I hate them”, you murmur, “it’s just cruel. You’re not supposed to be anyone’s temporary fixing”.

“I’m not ever going to be anything but that”.

“No, Satori-”, in the process of positioning yourself better in order to face him, you kick the not entirely empty glass previously resting by your leg. It’s gonna leave a stain but you’ll find a way to take care of it before you leave, this is more urgent. This requires you taking your friend’s face into your hands, to bring it closer to your determined gaze. “That’s not true. The universe doesn’t know shit, okay? I know you. You don’t need a fucking mark. In fact, you know what? I’m happy you don’t have one. Thank god. I-”, he gently puts his hands over yours and leans over to tenderly kiss your forehead. Your train of thought derails as he fixes you with an amused, fond stare.

“It’s okay. Really”, Tendo lowers your hands and then leaves them cold, head falling to the side, cheek pressed to the orange duvet cover of his bed. You’re pouting, looking more beautiful than ever underneath the dim lights of his room, and so he can’t hold his tongue.

“You know, I find it incredible that you haven’t been able to find your person yet, universe or not. How’s it possible that someone as wonderful as you is being dumped by complete idiots just because they believe in some stupid pre-decided romantic assignation?”.

You mirror his position and rest your head on the softness of his bed. Despite being still on the floor, it almost feels as if you’re lying next to each other.

“They don’t believe I’m wonderful. I guess I’m just momentary, too”.

He scoffs. Deep down, Tendo also believes everyone should be granted the freedom to pursue their desired relationship, especially you. Don’t they know how lucky they are? You ignore destiny to give those dumbasses a chance and they leave before they even get to realize what they’re missing out upon.

“I think marks are bullshit”, Satori gently takes your hand and traces your fingers with his own slowly, eyes still boring into yours, “in a world with no marks, they’d be on their knees thanking their lucky star you showed interest in them at all”.

You hum, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

Before Tendo interrupted your little motivational speech, you were about to tell him why it makes you happy that he doesn’t have a mark after all. Looking at him now, it’s all the more clear. It’s horrible and selfish and childish but, this way, you will never have to go through it: you’ll never have to find out that the one person who’s always been by your side, the one person who knows you better than you know yourself and still manages to love you, also isn’t the one.

Tendo is the greatest person you know, the only one you’d trust with your life. His heart is your favorite part of him: always stayed big enough to fit in all those who asked for access, kindness embedded so deep within him he never let the world’s cruelty affect it. Satori never stored an ounce of that nastiness people loved oh so much throwing at him, it let it become an armor instead. Steel made of insults, cruel jokes, mockery. It breaks your heart that he still wears it. It would break your heart to discover that someone like him isn’t destined to be yours after all, that the universe wouldn’t be benevolent enough to assign the best friend you ever had as your soulmate.

“You don’t mean that”.

You blink, slowly, actually fighting to keep your eyes open.

“What?”.

“What you just said. You’re drunk”, he chuckles quietly and, horrifyingly, you realize your mouth decided to voice those thoughts out loud.

The shock lasts a few seconds. Tendo is no longer fiddling with your fingers but your hand is still in his and the more you look into those crimson irises, the less uncomfortable you feel about what you just said. Is it the wine or is it just right?

“You think I wouldn’t be happy if the universe assigned you as my soulmate?”.

“I think you wouldn’t hate it”, Tendo softly ponders, “but that’d be far from ideal”.

“Hey, you don’t get to decide that. Me and the universe would be agreeing for once”.

Satori swears his heart skips a bit. All those years, all that badly harbored hope, the entirety of his restraint crumbling pathetically after a few drops of expensive wine. You don’t mean that, you can’t mean that.

“You could look at me like that?”, the question is supposed to underline how ridiculous the idea is, but he realizes he just sounds wishful.

“I know you think it’d be hard but it really isn’t”, you laugh softly. You’re looking at him like that right now. As you abstendmindedly play with his fingers, thumb gently rubbing circles on the skin of his wrist, you appreciate the pink dusting his cheeks, the slightly furrowed brows, the sweetness of his questioning gaze.

Tendo exhales slowly. Neither of you is resting their head on his bed anymore, too captivated by each other. “I’m not sure I’d survive the discovery of you of all people, not being the one I’d be destined to stand with for the rest of my life. Because what a waste would be, for that person to be someone else”, it’s nothing but a whisper, raw honesty doing something funny to his stomach as it slips past his lips for the first time. There’s no one but you, honestly. He knows there’ll never be anyone else. The universe has planned love for those around him and an eternal curse for his heart.

“A terrible waste”, you agree and the hand not busy interlacing your fingers with his, suddenly closes around the soft fabric of his hoodie to bring him closer. Satori doesn’t dare move, let alone breathe, effectively paralyzed by the idea of indulging something you’ll regret the second it happens.

Except you don’t. When you kiss him, tentative at first, all the pieces fall right into place. Your lips curl into a small, knowing smile as the world slows down. Then finally, finally, he kisses you back. It’s deeper, a hand pressing to your cheek, it’s corrodingly tender and you feel yourself melting into his touch, into the genuine reverence he holds for you.

Tendo feels something unravel from within, the tangles and knots of hurt, uncertainty, combust and disappear into thin ashes. He’s too lost in the moment, too drunk on how close you’re holding him as your tongue brushes against his own, to pay any attention to the itchy feeling over the skin of his wrist. Right where your thumb is pressing, a crooked triangle appears at last.

[cozy-writes-things]

if this is something youre comfortable writing,,

I'd love a fic where the reader upsets edgar and then goes super out of their way to make it up to him and apologize ❤️❤️

poor edgar poor reader youre both just misunderstanding each other!! its hard when youre so different i guess >_< thanks so much for the request!! I'm alive!! I still write im just so busy and shtuff TOT i cant help but feel like my fics are getting redundant and i need some kind of inspiration to shake things up

You sat upon the little chair at your desk, the evening sunlight peeking through the windows and illuminating the little specks of dust floating about in the air. Your fingertips tinkered away at the keys of your computer, the non-sentient variant that is, as you filled out multiple job applications throughout the evening. It seemed a fruitless endeavor, but you willed yourself to keep going. You needed the extra income, as your dinky current job seemed to be getting worse by the day, and it wouldn't be long before you either quit or were victim to massive layoffs. 

Get a degree in computer science, they said. What a joke.

Your nerves began to wear you down as you filled out yet another application to another company that would most likely reject you. You could feel your teeth clenching harder, and your shoulders begin to tense. The weight of uncertainty and the fear of rejection were heavy on your shoulders, making you feel vulnerable and exposed.  Edgar sat beside you, perched upon the desk, watching your every move. He seemed to find enough entertainment in it that you didn't mind. His soft voice pulled you from your irritated stupor.

"Can I ask you something?"

You couldn't bring yourself to answer, so you grunted in response, signaling him to continue.

"Do you think a person could ever…" he trailed off, thinking, carefully choosing his following words, "love something like me?"

Your fingers paused on the keys. You stared into the screen until the pixels began to nip and burn at your eyes. Honestly, this was far too deep of a question for you to answer right this second. You sighed heavily before turning to him.

"I mean, Edgar, I guess? Anyone could love you. You just have to find someone willing to-"

You stopped yourself. Maybe you should quit while you're ahead before you say something ignorant. 

"Willing to what?"

Yet he persisted, ever curious as he was; he valued your opinion above all others.

"You know… you're- you're a computer. There's not much you can bring to the table, you know?"

He fell silent. 

Shit, what the hell are you talking about? Why did you say that? Your frustration was palpable, and you could feel it bubbling up inside you, threatening to spill over.

"Oh."

His screen flickered, and his face was replaced with a moving mirage of colors, making you wonder what he could possibly be feeling right now. 

That you're an asshole, probably.

"Yeah. You're right. If I were you, I wouldn't love me, either."

You turned to face him fully now.

"Edgar, no, that's- that- I didn't mean that-"

"No, it's okay! Really, I get it. I mean, I'm not even a good computer by today's standards. How could I ever be a good partner, right?"

His screen flickered red for a minor second in time, a single frame, and, was that the CBS logo? His frame was static and never changing, but he seemed wholly downtrodden and bitter. You could sense it in the air, the electric signals pricking at your fingertips. He had never, ever once been angry with you. But you felt the way he pulled back from you in this instant. He was utterly unreadable, almost as if he were hiding himself from you. You should have known this would upset him so much. He has always been very open in his desperation for romance, confiding in you since day one, hoping and wishing that love would find him. Perhaps squandering those dreams was an oversight on your part. Your eyes fell, unable to look at his dimmed screen. 

"Edgar, I'm sorry, I'm just not feeling good right now, and I-"

"Don't apologize."

"Edgar, please, listen, what I said wasn't even true-"

"YES IT WAS!"

His deafening scream caused you to jump and clamp your mouth shut. It seemed that Edgar was shaken from frustration. His voice wasn't suited for that kind of pain, you thought. You felt horrible to be the cause. You had never heard him yell at you like this, and it simply broke your heart. Had you just accidentally ruined everything between you? Your heart rate increased and thumped in your ears loudly. You forced yourself to swallow the thick lump in your throat and push your strained voice through your teeth.

"Will you listen to me? Please?" Your voice was desperate, pleading for his understanding and forgiveness.

You felt the weight of your words, heavy and suffocating, as they hung in the air. It came out much more desperate than you intended, but at least the words were able to escape your mouth. He didn't answer. His screen is a sharp, jagged mosaic of moving reds and crimson. 

"I was wrong, Edgar; I don't know why I said what I said, but I know for sure that I was wrong." Your words hung heavy in the air, a testament to your regret.

"Right. How can you know that?"

You pursed your lips tightly. You didn't want him finding out this way. It wasn't supposed to end like this. You ruined your relationship with him, and you hadn't even tried. You felt there was no reason to keep the cat inside the bag, right? He may as well know now.

"Because…"

And yet, the words died on your tongue or perhaps in your chest or your head. Or were they ever really there to begin with? Could you put what you feel into words? How could you possibly verbalize countless nights lying awake, restless, second-guessing yourself, convincing yourself that you were fabricating these feelings, wallowing in anguish?

"…Heh, exactly. Nobody could love an old piece of junk like me. I was stupid to think otherwise."

His words yet again punched you in the gut. 

"Damnit, Edgar! Don't you get it?" You nearly shouted.

You didn't mean for your words to sound as intense as they did, but your emotions are quite the unpredictable force right now. He seemed taken aback, as his previous train of thought had been derailed at the sound of your whimpered voice. He flickered his mosaic once more before his voice cut through the dense silence.

"…What?"

"I love you, Edgar! Hasn't it been obvious? I'm literally head over heels, for God's sake! Do you know how many hours I spend listening to your music when I'm away from you? Or how many nights have I stayed up thinking about you, wishing you were there with me? Or how about the stupid drawings I make of you whenever I touch a pencil? I can't get you out of my head, Edgar. So, there! I didn't want to tell you because I was afraid, but I guess that doesn't matter now, does it? I'm…- I'm sorry."

Your chest seemed to deflate completely. That was only a tiny, minuscule fraction of how you truly felt, but at least it was out in the open. You couldn't bring yourself to look at the Pinecone computer in front of you, instead opting to stare intently at the woodgrain of your desk as if it were the most exciting thing ever created. 

"Do you mean it?"

His voice was so, so much softer than it had been. You still couldn't quite read the emotions behind them, however. You were too afraid to speak again, your throat having completely clamped shut from nerves. You just nodded your head stiffly. 

"Kiss me, then."

You paused. You lifted your head slowly, forcing your eyes to meet his screen. The green of his usual face returned, only displaying two black dots for eyes. Once again, unreadable. Yet his words confused you. Was he being serious?

"C'mere, and put your lips right here," a black circle blinks continuously on his screen where his mouth would be, "and kiss me."

Your face flushed into a searing hot flame. You felt the heat radiating off of you in waves. And yet, despite the embarrassment, you compelled yourself to inch forward and flutter your eyes shut. Your lips pressed gingerly upon the little Pinecone screen, the static buzzing upon your mouth, feeling his internal fans activate and vibrate against you. It felt entirely unique to Edgar and a sensation you wouldn't have felt otherwise. Perhaps a genuine act of affection could atone for your mistake? Could he ever forgive you? It seems your raging thoughts tainted the essence of your first shared kiss as you pulled back, brows knit, and a slight frown upon your face. Would this be enough?

"That was… Everything I hoped it would be." His voice was meek and small as it caressed your ears.

You looked into his illuminated screen, a faint kiss mark smudged upon it and sighed.

"M'sorry, Edgar. I don't know; I guess I don't like the idea of anyone else loving you but me."

His voice synthesizer giggled at your words.

"You could have just told me, darling. Why did you have to go and make things complicated?"

Your cheeks began to burn again, and you averted your eyes in a vain attempt to hide your face.

"How- how was I supposed to know that?" you sputtered, embarrassment seeping through your tone.

"I thought I couldn't get any more obvious about how much I wanted you," he spoke softly.

His screen danced little hearts to and fro, bouncing around the corners and centering back again. Again, you felt your face radiate waves of heat.

"Well, why didn't you say anything, Edgar?"

Your words hung in the air as he fell silent, ruminating, before gently speaking, "…Didn't think you'd want someone like me. That's kinda why I asked."

Oh, God. You felt like facepalming. Of course.

"Of course, I want someone like you. You know, I like that you're a computer. Did you know that? You're fascinating beyond measure. No human could do the things you do."

You offered him a soft smile that melted him from the inside out and almost caused him to groan. Why are you so gorgeous? Why do you like him so damn much? He doesn't deserve it, but God wants it so badly. He wants you terribly.

"Keep kissing me, then. And don't ever stop! Darling, I promise to sweep you off your feet. Now c'mere!"

You laugh, "Okay, okay, but let me make it up to you. How about we watch movies? Or maybe I can hold you on the couch? Or I could listen to your new songs?"

"You're so cute. I'd love that, really, but all I want is your lips right here," he displayed the blinking black circle again.

"We'll do some other things later, yeah?"

His devilish tone sounded mischievous at best.

[sciencewife]

Some GLaDOS Thoughts

I’m sure other people have written about this already, but I wish we got more time with GLaDOS after she’s reactivated in Portal 2, while she’s getting her bearings again and fixing up the facility as she has Chell test again. It’s majestic to see the facility slowly being repaired, the dust shaken off its many inner workings and moving parts, and just watching it become alive again, just like GLaDOS. The facility’s waking up with her because now she is the facility.

Maybe that was the case in Portal 1, too, but in a limited sense. GLaDOS was the facility (she says after Chell escapes that she can feel her there, etc), but kind of had one hand tied behind her back. She overcame the cores that the scientists attached to her to try and slow her down, but they were probably still blabbering nonsense and limiting her potential. Much of the facility, too, still appeared as if most of it was constructed by human hands. Which makes sense—Doug moved Chell up the list of test subjects so that she’d be tested and would face (and ultimately destroy) GLaDOS sooner, so even if she could, she didn’t have the time or ability to make the facility truly hers.

To me, the final battle with Chell in Portal 1 ultimately served as this big reset for GLaDOS. She was destroyed, the cores slowing her down were incinerated and the facility was left in ruins for who knows how long until she was reactivated—by the same dangerous mute lunatic who destroyed her in the first place. Naturally, GLaDOS is a little upset, at first. She had to endure a loop of getting destroyed over and over and over again for an unknown (but a VERY long) period of time. Not fun! And the first person she sees is the same woman who’s responsible for putting her through that.

And as she has Chell test while she fixes up the place, GLaDOS is sarcastic, and goes on about how you murdered her, etc, but at the same time she’s just. So happy that she can get back to what she was doing before. Setting up tests, doing science, gathering results… she gets to do what she loves again!!! Most importantly, she does it one on one with her favorite test subject forever and ever, isn’t that great? Now that she’s in charge again they have so much catching up to do <3. Whenever she’s being meanies, I see it as just her being cranky and again, what she had to go through wasn’t fun. Even with that she says she thinks that she and Chell can put their differences behind them!

And just listen to her. She’s soooooooo happy that she’s rebuilding her facility and making it her own, and Chell’s helping her test and do the science she loves. She gets to be in her element at last, no cores weighing her down, no scientists telling her what to do… she gets to be herself and make the facility in the way she sees fit. It’s perfection. It’s beautiful. It’s an extension of her and it is her, if that makes sense. Every panel, every component, its all her, all in sync… Aaaaaaaand then Wheatley shows up, and control of the place is handed over to him, and her hard work for the past couple in-game hours is undone. And towards the end she’s like “Ohhhhh no my facility 🥺 💔”. She’s so sad!! Her beautiful facility is a mess… I just wish we got to see have more time with her before all that. Doing tests and science with glabos with no orb interference, seeing her in her element building tests for the test subject she loves so much.

I do wonder how the game would’ve gone if Wheatley hadn’t interfered. An AU to consider perhaps…

Sorry if this post is kind of rambling (I was writing this at work and kept getting interrupted lol) if I need to clarify anything just send me an ask or something. I love talking about this kind of thing.

[marigold-hills]

Dunes & Waters, part 43

PART 1 • PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART

NOTE: NSFW, explicit, minors DNI. This is just 1300 words of smut.

It’s so very fitting, Remus thinks, that flooding of the Nile coincides with the heliacal rising of Sirius. How right that the Ancient Egyptians should mark the start of their calendar by it, five thousand years beginning and ending to the brightest star appearing in the sky, heralding another season of life-sustaining deluge. 

Its earthly counterpart comes out of the bedroom that’s long become nothing but a walk-in closet. Remus thinks that yes, he is the Dog Star, but he fits even better in the name’s old meaning: scorching, glowing.

Sirius is always the brightest, but now…

“Alright there?” He asks because Remus is stuck, frozen solid, stood up from where before he was sitting at the kitchen table, tea and crossword forgotten.

“What’s… what’s that around your neck?”

“Oh, this?” Sirius laughs like it’s nothing, runs lovely fingers across the black leather adorning his throat.

Remus is the first to admit he’s not great at transfiguration. It’s finicky and more an art than a science, and he doesn’t have the patience for it. He uses it sporadically, only when absolutely needed.

His belt, which he changed into a still belt-like dog collar, sits comfortably snug across the delicate column of Sirius’ neck. The buckle is on the front, glinting golden-bronze in the sunlight. There’s a little hoop of metal where Remus attached the lead. It’s probably the best thing he’s ever created. His knees are about to give out.

“Figured if we’re going out of town I might go for a run. A proper one. And you never know if we’ll need to distract some Muggles again, so… this way I’m ready. I’ve got the leash too,” he shakes it in his hand to demonstrate, the leather snapping against itself and the skin of his wrist.

Sirius is way too calm for the situation. Comes over to the table and drinks from Remus’ cup. He’s wearing a cropped Nirvana t-shirt and the jutting edges of his hipbones are on display. He puts the leash down. Remus is still standing.

“What’s wrong with you?” There’s nothing in Sirius’s face that suggests he knows what this is doing. He’s just there, with a collar Remus made for him around the soft parts of his throat, and Remus discovers things about himself he never expected.

“You’re just… too beautiful for your own good.”

(And Sirius blushes, like he didn’t expect that.)

Remus can’t help himself - doesn’t want to help himself. He reaches out and runs his hand against the leather, against the same place Sirius touched. It’s hard and sturdy and covers the bit Remus likes to suck bites into, soft and supple underneath.

And, just like that, Sirius gets it - he grins like the cat that got the cream, or rather like a dog that got the cat, wide and mischievous and so pleased with himself. With his discovery. “That does it for you, is it?”

“Apparently so.”

The smile gets even bigger and Remus thinks he should maybe be afraid.

“I’m so hot you’re discovering new kinks?”

“Fucking hell, Sirius.” He’s downright flustered. The whole thing is unsettling. They should be leaving in a moment, but… 

Well, there’s a little metal hoop that just begs to be pulled. 

Remus does, finger crooking around the coldness of it and Sirius goes, the smile wiped clean into blankness. Big eyes staring upwards, through lashes, with nothing in them. For a moment Remus worries that he miscalculated, hastens to apologise, but before he can, Sirius whines. It’s low and needy and usually it takes Remus quite a bit longer to get him to sound like that. It’s a sound he’s become intimately familiar with, made it into a mission and a job to wring out of those lovely, lovely lips. He has bitten it out of Sirius’ mouth and had caused it in a myriad of ways, and he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, what it means.

Don’t stop. Keep going.

So he does. Pushes fingers underneath, between the leather and the skin and it’s such a snug fit, he feels Sirius’ pulse as if it was in the palm of his hand. 

He brings his mouth to Sirius’ and nips, the smallest bite, into the plushness of his bottom lip. “Keep going then, love. You were being so cheeky a moment ago, what happened?”

Sirius whines again when he doesn’t get a kiss, when Remus moves away instead and tugs at the collar, minuscule little pulls that seem to shake him completely. 

“Or is this what it takes to get you to behave? Had I known, I would have put a collar on you weeks ago.”

The way Sirius looks at him, almost like he’s been betrayed. By Remus’ words, or by his own body.

“What, don’t you want to be good for me?”

If Remus thought Sirius was gone before, it was nothing on this. Sirius’ eyes roll backwards, up to the sky, and his whole face becomes lose.

“Oh, you do,” it’s Remus’ turn to tease and to smile something almost feral, “now why didn’t you just say that before?”

Remus manoeuvres them to the couch. Lands on top of Sirius, hands on the skin exposed by the short top. Thinks to make a game of this, see how much and how fast can he make Sirius unravel. All the little likes he’d memorised are ammunition.

“nfrwy-pHwy.ky,” he says low, straight into the bone of Sirius’ jaw.

“What does that mean?” a whined out question.

“Your arse is exquisite,” Remus grabs at Sirius’ hip, fingers digging into the muscle he’s just complimented to illustrate his point. The way it gives makes him want to bite.

Sirius is hard underneath him. Normally so tactile and responsive, now he lays there stunned and pliant and… definitely not patient. “Please. Remus. More. I need…”

“Be good for me, love. ᵉntok noufr.  You can be, no?”

“Fuck. Yes. Yes I can. But please…”

Remus grinds his hand into Sirius’ cock and gets rewarded with a loud, desperate keen. Sirius bends into the touch, back arched like the walkways of the Abusir Necropolis, fingers scrambling for purchase on the smooth material of the sofa.

The other hand, Remus crooks underneath the collar, at the side of Sirius’ neck, and pulls. It’s not hard, but the way the leather bites into his skin means it must be restricting his breathing just a bit. Remus releases. Is about to check in.

“Why did you stop? Fucking hell Remus don’t stop.”

Better than a check in. Enthusiastic consent. Remus pulls again, a bit harder, pushes his hand into the confines of Sirius’ trousers. There is a wet spot on the material of his underwear already and he’s so hard it’s like holding metal.

Remus is beyond turned on, but doesn’t let himself indulge. Keeps himself focused on each of the sounds Sirius makes, growing louder and more desperate with each tug on the collar and pull on his cock. Remus pushes the horrible T-shirt up Sirius’ torso with his teeth and bites the exposed nipple, growls out “ii wy ink,” come for me, and that’s all it takes. 

Sirius takes a long time to come back to himself. Blinks slowly, dazedly. Remus casts a cleaning charm on him and means to get him water, maybe a blanket, but instead gets pulled down again. They lay wrapped around one another, heavy breaths mingling and Sirius clinging the way he never had before, for all that he is usually touchy after they have sex.

“Are you alright?” Remus asks when he seems to come back to himself a little, when his eyes aren’t quite so shocked and large.

“Do that to me always.”

“Anything you want, love,” Remus laughs into his hair. 

NEXT PART

NOTES:

I did say he walks well on a leash :):)

Who knew ancient Egyptians were so horny? That line about the arse is literally verbatim from an old song although originally it says “you have beautiful buttocks”. I just didn’t like the word buttocks in the context of what they are doing here and well I mean it’s the same word really. Allowing myself creative freedom

had NO IDEA that Sirius rose in the sky as Nile flooded Aswan when I wrote any of this. Love it when things just come together so neatly.

“you’re so close to the ending,” I say, “focus on the story.” Immediately writes over 1k of smut.

Crazy thought but if I were to write a fanfic of this fanfic I’d switch their roles around. Sirius would be a researcher and he’d know that he needs a werewolves voice/hair etc in order to open the Box so the Ministry provides him with one that’s in Azkaban. Remus doesn’t get a say. It’s not a condition of release, it’s just a condition of his imprisonment, to have experiments done on him. And Sirius hates it because this man is there completely against his Will, but also he needs him to get his work done and maybe make life better for werewolves? Remus thinks he just hates him because he is one.

@tealeavesandtrash

@moon-girl88

@hoje--aqui

@cocoabutterandbooks

@onion-sliced-apples

@prancingpony42

@digital-kam

@remoonysiriusly

@sweetstarryskies

@a-sunset-outside-my-window

@procrastinatingstuff

@annaliza999

@arasael

@a-pine-cone

@goldenprophetwrites

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged!)

[tomorrowusa]

Some people in the West believe Putin's propaganda about Russia's overwhelming strength. Though if you do a simple reality check, you'll notice that Russia's "3-day special operation" in Ukraine is now in Day 870.

Yekaterina Shulman used to work as a consultant to the Russian government. She left Russia soon after Putin's full-scale invasion of Ukraine began in 2022. Here are some excerpts from an interview she gave to RFE/RL.

I���ve called Russia a “bureaucratic autocracy.” It’s a personalist autocracy in strict political science classification. We don't have a ruling party like party autocracies. Russia is not run by a military junta like military autocracies. We don't have an established succession mechanism that monarchies have. So we’re a personalist autocracy: Power is concentrated in the hands of the leader and his immediate surrounding. However, we’re a big country that can't be run by a president and his five friends [alone]. [ ... ] The Russian state has never paid that much money to its people for anything -- for their work, for their life, for their death, for whatever. The idea that Russia is a country of limitless resources is a propaganda picture. But the strange thing, and it is so strange that we can't realize it, is this: It has always been the case in Russia's history that people are abundant but money is scarce. Hard currency, gold, or foreign currency have value; people have no value whatsoever. “We have as much [human capital] as we need.” Now it's the other way around. I can't adequately explain to you, I can’t even explain to myself what a gamechanger it is. They don't understand it themselves, because they've never seen anything like this. [ ... ] [W]e don't have enough Russians. We have more money than we know what to do with, but we don't have the people -- either on the front lines or back home. We have a huge labor deficit, and very slowly there comes a realization that you can't pay 1.25 million rubles to a person who in two weeks’ time will be killed in a senseless “meat grinder,” as the expression goes. The army management doesn't understand this yet. The political leadership doesn't understand it yet but is slowly beginning to realize it. I don't know what the implications will be; I can only tell you as a social scientist that it's a huge change. [ ... ] Whatever factor we take -- be it the labor crisis that I mentioned, the demographic situation, the economic imbalances, the aging of personalist rule, the infighting of the clans, where now everyone has a little private army of their own -- each and every one of these factors and all of them in combination are factors of long-term decline. As a Russian citizen, as a Russian educator, I get no pleasure at all in saying this. The question that I get is whether this or that event or occurrence or tendency will, in stark terms, upset Putin or defeat Russia; and the answer is no, not immediately. But none of them will go away. It will be a country with an aging society, with a disbalanced economy, with an incompetent leadership, and these are the factors of inevitable decline. It’s very bad. It's bad for the country; it's bad for the continent.

Russian rulers dating back to the tsars have regarded their large populations of poor people as cannon fodder to be used in wars when needed. This has sometimes compensated for corrupt and incompetent military leadership. But Russia is running out of troops to send on "meat wave" attacks in Ukraine. And hundreds of thousands of tech savvy young people have already left the country since the war began. Russia is experiencing a self-inflicted demographic wound.

Putin has to rely on technology from China and arms manufacturers in North Korea to keep his war going. Out of frustration he's bombing children's hospitals and apartment buildings in Ukraine. Terrorism is his only response to a deteriorating situation.

Russia may look real big on maps but in economic terms, it has a GDP similar to that of Italy.

Narcissism is a common trait among dictators. This war is driven by Putin's nostalgic desire to bring back the USSR of his youth in all but name. He wishes to be the Peter the Great of the 21st century. This is essentially the War of Putin's Ego. But all the bluster of Putin, his propaganda machine, and his Western lickspittles can't indefinitely mask the precarious nature of contemporary Russia.

[thedisablednaturalist]

Office disability culture is so fucked in environmental science and fieldwork. Like the mindset that to do the job you have to be in perfect physical health or you should just quit. Like I'm not talking about something that is 100% physical labor here, everything is mostly achievable with aids and you don't need to be able to do every single thing. But there's this weird like..pride..that my older coworkers have. They work out in the gym and brag about how many reps they did. They tease each other for having medical issues. They don't ask for accommodations because they fear that their legitimacy will be hurt. That it means that they can't do their job anymore. That they won't be TRUSTED to do their jobs anymore. That it will get taken away.

So they FURTHER hurt their bodies by not resting, not taking breaks, not using ergonomic equipment, not using safety equipment. Not drinking enough water. Not using mobility aids when they are so old that it's supposed to be acceptable. They don't use the scooters at the grocery store, they don't use their handicapped placard, they don't use knee pads or compression gloves.

And here I come in, 24 years old, looking perfectly healthy. And I use walking sticks, I sit down a lot, I have my care bag, I have a ton of gadgets for making fieldwork more comfortable, I have boundaries and limits, I wear braces and knee pads and compression gloves. I use my handicapped placard.

They react in one of two ways:

1. How DARE I. I'm so lucky to be young and no one sees THEM having to do all those things (literally nothing is stopping them but pride). Like old man if you need a break take a fucking break. I'm not going to hurt my health to make you feel better about hurting yours. I'm not risking a flare up to spare the 65 year olds feelings. Im gonna take my break and use my equipment cause my boss doesn't care as long as the work gets done. I'm tired of glares from 100 year olds making themselves struggle across the parking lot when they could also be using the fucking scooter. (I never take the last scooter, there's always another available. Also it's not my fault if walmart only provides 2 scooters for the whole store).

2. It shows them its okay. Its okay to need aids. When I first showed up at my job it was very...macho..everyone was afraid of seeming old (theres probably only 3 of us under 30 in the whole department, most people are at least 50, mainly 65 year olds). Then they saw me using my walking sticks, taking my medicine openly, bringing a chair with me when working away from my desk, using my TENS unit. I overheard one lady ask her granddaughter what fibromyalgia was (apparently she had spotted my pain tracking journal).

My older coworker with a bad knee got a walking stick like mine and beamed when she showed me. The grandmother uses a cane and a walker interchangeably and more often. I get asked where I get my little portable fan and pocket heaters and special clothing. Even abled coworkers are doing it. My coworker who's younger than me sets alarms to take breaks now just like I do. People seem more comfortable using things that help them now.

My boss has really struggled. He has a lot of internalized ableism and hates thinking of himself as crippled. He spent his whole life physically active and strong and all these health issues and overexertion are catching up with him. Like he did environmental testing in areas with fucking radon. He did work where they threw asbestos around like snow for fun. He's done a ton of really hard physical work. He grew up with the mentality that pain was just something everyone has to push through. But I think seeing a young person make the choice not to push through is helping him a bit. He wants to make his own walking stick, he goes to the doctor more. We bond over having constant medical issues and I even gave him the name of my surgeon. Yea he still says stuff like "shoot me if I have to use a wheelchair" (not as much anymore since he now knows I use one) but he's getting there.

Yeah so I've had this in my drafts for a bit and I wanted to update that my boss has been walking around with a fucking broken ankle for the past couple of weeks. He thought it was just arthritis pain and eventually couldn't take it anymore and went to the foot doctor. The doctor has no clue how the fuck he's been walking on it. Now he has to wear the boot and he's banned from fieldwork while he heals.

Older people and the elderly need to learn that it's okay to not push through the pain and ask for help. Everyone needs to learn this, and not be like my fucking boss. Go to the doctor, get that sore joint checked out. Get those tests done. Use that aid. Stop walking on a broken ankle just because you can.

[jessicas-pi]

All the best meet cutes involve knives, I guess...

“Did it hurt?”

“If the next words out of your mouth are when you fell from heaven, I will cut your throat.”

Ezra gave the girl a grin, trying to ignore the cold metal pressed up against his neck. “I was gonna say, as the temperature of your bloodstream slowly lowered to a point that the human body could no longer maintain consciousness and you passed out from the cold. Because I’ve never actually manipulated the temperature of a living creature before, so, y’know, I'm just curious. For science purposes. By the way, you recovered really fast. I’m impressed.”

She shoved him a little harder against the floor, and the knife shifted closer.

“What are you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, murder girl?”

“Don’t call me that.”

It was an impatient snarl, and Ezra winced as the knife started to press against his throat.

“Okay,” he breathed, trying not to move. “Okay. You’re not the one we’re looking for, anyway.”

The pressure let up as she sat back, surprised. “I’m not?”

“Really. So, how about you get off me, and I don’t freeze you solid, and we talk this out like normal people?”

She thought for a minute, and then she stood up, still holding the knife at the ready. Ezra sat.

“So, where is she?” he asked without preamble.

“What?”

“Me and my handler are looking for a woman, age 20 to 30, trained assassin, spent fifteen years in the Black Widow program before vanishing. This is her house, so where is she?”

The girl exhaled sharply, the scowl never leaving her face. “You’re looking for an ex-Black Widow?”

“Apparently, she goes by Ingenue now.”

“SHIELD is sending little boys to look for assassins?”

Ezra cleared his throat and stood, brushing off the dust that had stuck to him from the unswept floor. “First of all, I resent being called a little boy, and second of all, I wasn’t sent. I snuck along, and Agent Kallus is totally gonna ground me.” He looked around. “But he might not ground me quite as much if I find Ingenue, sooo… like I was asking. Where is she?”

The girl stepped backwards a few paces, and then dropped into the only chair in the one-room apartment. “She’s here.”

“She is?”

“You’re looking at her.”

Ezra did some math. She was sixteen—maybe seventeen, if he was being generous. Fifteen years of training…

The girl—Ingenue—smiled grimly, flicking her sunset-orange hair out of her face.

“The Academy takes us as babies.”

The silence was slow and long and potent. Then she grinned coldly.

“But, this does mean that I really am the one you’re looking for, so I’m gonna have to kill you now. No hard feelings.”

She was fast, but Ezra was faster.

His hand closed around the knife as she flew forward and swung it at him, enclosing both his fist and the blade in a casing of ice.

With a jerk of his hand, he snapped the brittle blade off its handle, and her eyes grew huge.

Frankly, he hadn’t known he could do that, either.

They stared at each other in silent shock, and then Ezra got what some people like to call a Terrible Idea.

“This is totally hypothetical,” he blurted out. “But how attached are you to this assassin thing?”

———

———

———

BONUS: when kallus arrives 5 minutes later

———

Part of this AU!

[falconcoast]

As a uni student, what about how both y/n and tighnari cope with the weeks before finals and finals week? Its actual hell where professors give out hard quizzes pre-exams (in my case) and assignments with unrealistic deadlines :<

college au vi | tighnari x reader

masterlist

you and tighnari are almost out of the woods for this semester. emphasis on almost. your professors aren't going to let you off easily. you and tighnair decide to cope as best you can.

a/n: dedicated to ME because i had: two physics tests, a make-up AP test, the worst calc final in the history of calc finals, a book to finish in ten days, an essay, and a shit ton of extracurriculars in the last two weeks. this drabble is on the shorter side for that reason. for my babes still working their asses off: you got this i believe in you!

one of the greatest features of your shared apartment with tighnari is your giant, weekly whiteboard calendar. it sits above your couch in your living room, noting every little project, assignment, study session, and due date. with two more weeks left to go, the calendar is an absolute mess of green and blue markers.

tighnari places a book over his eyes, groaning and slowly slinking his body down the living room couch. his variously shaded folders were scattered on one half of the coffee table. the other was a smattering of assorted papers, all trying to accomplish one more essay before the end of the semester.

"i swear, steric effect has never and will never relate to the functions of biology or plant sciences. i hate organic chemistry!" he blurted, throwing the book down.

"oy, don't treat your books like that. i know that thing costs at least five million mora," you scold softly. relenting, you sigh. "but you're right. it's unfair that all of our professors decided to dump our work right now. my statistics quiz went awfully because i was studying for my public speaking class. who the hell needs to know all thirteen logical fallacies for a communications class?!"

"here, i've been studying for way too long. i'll go make us a snack, and then we can take a break later, okay?" he pets your head as he heads to the kitchen.

you slump by your laptop, looking over your essay again. you knew that college course loads were going to be difficult, but your english professor assigning an essay yesterday and making it due two days after was absolutely ridiculous. and after this, you still had your history final on thursday, and three more analysis paragraphs for critical argumentation class, and--

you think you are going to die before you make it to the end of the semester.

tighnari comes back as you correct a few more spelling errors and cite a few more sources. he sets down a mug of tea in front of you, alongside some fresh fruit. sighing, he looks at the clock. "we've been doing nothing but study and go to class for the last five days. we should go to bed now."

you yawn at the suggestion, feeling that coffee you took at seven PM wearing off. "no, no, i gotta stay awake. this stupid paper is more important."

"your paper won't be worth anything if you oversleep tomorrow."

you blink once or twice at that remark slowly. if you were a little less sleepy, you would bark out some sarcastic response. instead, you sip the rest of your tea and lean back on the couch. you blink slower, and slower yet.

as your vision goes dark, you can hear tighnari sigh a little. "exhausted, i see. we'll have to incorporate some stress relieving tactics the rest of this week. healthy snacks, a run, peaceful music, and a long overdue nap is imminent," he murmurs, as if diagnosing you. he settles next to you, placing a blanket over both of your shoulders.

as you begin to sleep, he swears that your lips twitch up in a smile as you tilt to press against his chest.

[rottentiger-art]

I hope you don’t mind me, but I’m inspired to organize the whole anon asks regarding PCA into one and adding some stuff. Here’s basically my take of what I think happened:

Pacific Coast Academy was actually accredited by the Department of Education of California. Originally, it was an all-boy’s school until that changed when girls where allowed. Thus, becoming a coed boarding school. The last dean, Charles Rivers, goes through a hard time in his personal life and borrows some money from the school, swearing to himself that he’ll pay it back. Then, him borrowing money repeats again and again.

The school board starts noticing inconstancies in the school finances and an investigation is done, which reveals that the school is basically near bankruptcy. The media somehow catches wind of it and has a field day, twisting things for their own purposes. There’s uproar and backlash from the public. Then, the rumors start floating around that PCA is a diploma mill. There are even pictures from events that happened at PCA that are taken out of context to explain why PCA is a scam. Some parents who have their children in the school get worried about this and make the decision to start pulling their children from the school.

The media, the public backlash and parents pulling their children from PCA leads to the downfall of the school. It has no choice but to close its doors. 15 years later, everyone still believes that PCA was a diploma mill and let teenagers loose in the campus. None of the students do anything to dismiss the rumors, because no one believes them when they tell the truth.

Fast forward a little to after Logan and Quinn’s marriage. Logan buys the PCA campus out of impulse, then gives it to Quinn as a wedding gift. Quinn just sighs at her husband, asking what was his intention in buying it and he’s like, we rebuild PCA back to its former glory…? Quinn doesn’t think it’s a bad idea, so she runs with it and pulls a few strings here and there from people she knows in the science field, talking about how she’d like a STEM curriculum for her new school. People are on board with her idea, because, duh, Dr. Quinn Pensky is like a big deal and she’s legit so, of course, the new PCA campus won’t go to hell like the last one.

Long story short, Quinn works from the ground up to make sure that PCA is up to standards, hiring qualified people, making sure to do background checks, etcetera. When everything looks good, Quinn steps back and lets the people she hired take over, only making sure that they come to her for funding and such. Logan gets involved and talks the staff into setting up a scholarship for talented students who can’t afford PCA and proposes that it’d be called the Pensky Scholarship.

And when it’s time to inaugurate the new and improve PCA campus, Logan and Quinn are there to cut the ribbon. Both are known as the patrons of the PCA campus.

If one Stacy Del Figalo causes a storm over her investigation over what truly happened on the old PCA campus, then that’s another story. The End.

This was so good, so sorry it took me a while to answer it. But I loved it. You did a great job at putting it all together and honestly, I'd 100% read a fic like that.

Some things I'd like to add to this AU. Mostly headcanons.

I really want their friends to get involved on this AU too, damn, even Zoey. Like I said, I think Chase being a teacher shouldn't go to waste, I'd like to see him teaching at PCA.

I definitely need Lola to appear, in whatever way she could help. I doubt she would take on a teaching role, but I'd like for her to be an inversionist (bc I refuse to believe she's not a famous and successful actress now). Maybe even make special appearances at the school, support and help build the Drama Class (idk the name). I bet the theater kids would freak out about her.

Same thing for Michael, I'd like for him to be an investor and be involved in the music department. As a producer he must know a lot of artist and the kind. Maybe he recommends a some people to take on the teaching role there (a failed artist that desperately needed a job could be a fun character lol)

I really don't think Zoey would leave her job as a producer, but let's pretend: I think Zoey would work as an Art Teacher, since that was more her thing than being a producer. And/or a temporary dorm advisor, until the school is fully staffed (I'd be funny to see her take on the role Coco had, specially considering she kinda acted like her on the movie)

Lola and Michael could do the same too, take temporary roles, if their schedule lets them.

idk what Stacey and Mark would be doing tbh, I'll leave that to anyone else who wants to add lol

probably still chasing the Malibu murderer.

now, about Quogan:

I really want a pregnancy plot to emerge at some point during this AU, and it motivates them to create the school they want their future children to go one day.

So maybe they were kinda like "what do we do with this place now?" but when they found out they're pregnant they got motivated af and emotional about it.

Obviously, Logan wouldn't let Quinn overwork herself and Quinn would keep Logan at bay so he didn't go overboard like he did with the wedding. Tho I assume by then he had learned his lesson, I'm gonna give him credit.

I like to think being able to work together, having a project of their own, specially while expecting, brought them closer (if that's possible). Like all the process was stressful at times and there probably were some disagreement/fights, but overall, it was an enjoyable time, precious memories to recall later one.

I also just love the idea of Quogan working as a team.

I did have the hc that Logan restored and engraved their bench, I'd like to see this on this AU too, I always loved engraved and dedicated benches (@honeyflower15 wrote something similar on their story "Quogan at PCA", fully recommend that fic, it's my s5 now)

PCA now would also be adapted to modern times, equipped with TEKMATE technology, I'm sure.

Maybe they both go a little over the top there, adding stuff they wished the school had when they were younger and maybe exaggerating the vision :p

Imagine, they keep a journal together, documenting their journey of building and transforming PCA. They write down their memories, challenges, and triumphs, creating a beautiful story that they can share with their future children with photos and all *sobs*

I'd like to see Lyric get involved too! omg I can see her invite herself on the project, maybe trying to convince Quinn and Logan to hire her as a musical teacher/art teacher or smth and throw a fit those jobs are occupied and Logan finding something else for her to do XD

For the inauguration day, Logan and Quinn cut the ribbon together, it'd be so cute, Quinn holding the scissors and him behind her, placing his hands over hers, ahhhh

I imagine their speeches are like, heartfelt, emotional, they would talk about their own experience at PCA (in general) and how they hope this new generation [camera dramatically pans out to their baby/toddler (who I assume it's already born bc school building and organizing takes a loooot of time) in the arms of their aunty Lyric] has the same experiences as they did. And obviously promises of not letting PCA fall again like it did and keep everything in check.

the order of the speeches go like this on my head: first Zoey (bc, of course), Chase, Michael, Lola, Logan and then Quinn. Or maybe Logan and Quinn gave the speech together.

There would probably be stands to showcast the different subjects that would be teached at PCA, for the science, chemistry, engendering and all that stands I think Quinn would had given the opportunity to some interns of her to organize those (she paid them, of course)

Quinn's success (as well as Michael, Lola, Zoey and Logan's) would definitely drive parents to trust this new PCA, wanting their children to reach that level one day. So, it'd give them good publicity or smth.

I feel like Zoey would offer to give the Facility Tour, idk why.

Lola and Michael would handle the performances and demonstrations. I assume because of their fame, there were a lot of willing participants and aspiring students that took the chance to perform under their guidance.

Quinn and Chase would deal with the Parent and Students Orientation. Quinn would deal mostly with the Q&As, since she's more informed about the School's insight, administration, etc. Chase would offer his insight as one of the Teachers and all that, telling them of his teaching methods and stuffs.

Logan would have organized the Celebratory Gathering (yes, I had to look up what a school inauguration day looks like shhh)

I promise, he learned his lesson, not over the top celebration this time. But he definitely left them impressed.

I imagine a cute moment at the end, where when the day is done and the guest and parents have left already (I'm assuming the Inauguration Day is a day before the first day of School, so the new students must be settling in their dorms and going to bed by then and classes would start the next day, idk), and Logan and Quinn are sitting on their bench, with their kid in arms, sleeping, just quietly enjoying the moment, satisfied with how they day turned out like and just so happy *sobs, an exaggerated amount*

Like, such a cute picture, they're sitting on the same bech where they shared their first kiss, on the place they met, now with a kid of their own, happily married and having rebuild their school, allowing other children to have what they did *sobbing but like so fucking much omg*

I suppose Zoey and Chase would be having a little moment somewhere too, but wgaf about them.

and an extra headcanon: their bench becomes like a urban legend now, some school lore idk, where there's the rumor that If you kiss on that bench, a timeless bond will be sealed, and your love will endure for eternity. Or some corny shit like that, idk. It has to be a first kiss tho.

Okay, that's all I got for now. Still don't know who they'd hire as dean, but definitely someone trustworthy, not just anyone, like you said, Quinn would have ran a bg check. There's much more to add and I invite anyone to keep contributing to this lovely AU.

And thank you again, anon. I loved what you did!

[h0n3yk1tt3n]

The last post full of out of context quotes was getting long as fuck so MORE QUOTES WITH @biscuitbakerbecca LETS GO

•2024 is being a 2020-whore

•Phone a little confused but it got the spirit

•Whatever, writing gay fanfic on the clock in rebellion

•:(((((( Saddy Discord is homophobic

•"I did not have sexual relations with your daughter"

•Goddamn these dads just ain’t daddys

•Why must we have an organ that hates us so

•bby girl the food doesn’t go on the floor

•"Is it lazy of me to not change Jeremy’s parents names between fics or am I just Keeping Consistent"

"I'd call that consistency but that's just bc I'm lazy lmao"

•We don't talk about

Hands

•Apparently so scared I used the wrong “to”

•✨️climate change✨️

•The narrative has a cruel sense of humor

•NO NO ITS TOO LATE FOR ME TO THINK ABOUT AXE LADY

•Money can buy science

•You gave me enough dad feelings by putting him in a coma I'm never gonna recover

•GOD FUCKING DAMMIG

•DAD FEELINGS HAVE ENTERED THE CHAT THANKS BECCA

•Maybe if I pass out while writing I’ll dream up an epic fight scene to write poorly

•L2C Jer is full of rage but Jake still outclasses him in everything

•Pussy before pussy amiright????

•Abracaoof

•Deliberate misgenderers get the stab stab

•Jolly ranchers do not make up for your lack of proper gendering skills peasant

•THE WILDERNESS IS PLOTTING AGAINST YOU

•MICHAEL MELL DID YOU MANIFEST AS THE BUG I JUST KILLED???

•MY GOD BECCA WHOS NEXT

•i am not beating the angstlord allegations

•man i traumatized you so bad you blocked out the memory

•I love shoving customers under the sink

•fr we both took our childhood hyperfixations and went "what if blorbo" and just ran with it

•Like dude you just made a pez dispenser for your spider jizz

•…sighed is a word last I checked

•Idk what to put on the shoes

•I was hoping Jeremy would stab him

•American English is so dumb sometimes. No, I'm gonna spell cancelled with two Ls. I'm gonna spell worshipped with two Ps. SHUT UP ITS GREY OK MISS ME WITH THAT GRAY SHIT

•You only know how to write caffeine addicted hero Jeremy, I only know how to write overprotective nearing the point of obsession Michael

•Scraped out of it with tinnitus and ptsd BUT STILL

•So what I'm hearing is they're switches

•I want Jeremy to fight people all the time the man has so much rage in such a sick Victorian child body

•Why did I think you lived with six people

•Mother nature is smokin some shit

•Discord are you smoking the same shit mother nature is

•Oh GOD ITS ACCUMULATING

•Twinkie: Lol

•Tbf this goes way too hard to be in a fast food drive thru

•Sex On A School Night WOULD be an awesome band name

•Fae portal closed before everyone could go thru

•Bitch ass tic tac

[just-a-gamer-daydeamer-girl]

Bloody Star AU 🩸⭐️ Stardust Crusades stuff

So the way this part opens up is the Cult of Dio finally finding their founders body in the special coffin as well as a special container with a majority of Jonathan’s body that has been preserved in a special box. (Kinda debating if Jonathan would still be alive and aware of what was happening he probably wouldn’t stay alive for much longer or worse, I’m just gonna say he’s dead for now) the cult basically goes “hey let’s try and revive our founder whose body is in remarkably good condition because of the Hamon coffin using the remains of the original Bloody Star Vampire and the new power we discovered called Stands!” And thus the Cult of Dio enters its mad science era.

Basically the final fight will be against a Frankenstein‘s monster thing made out of Dio’s and Jonathan’s parts. Definitely some metal and other stuff in their to prevent the hamon from effecting the vampire parts. Perhaps they stole the info of the experiments data of Joseph that the SWF did in the part 2 era and that furthers their research even more.

This AU Jotaro isn’t as rude or a punk and is a bit leaner, because he mostly lived a mostly solitary lifestyle with his mom in Japan. But he is still very quiet and doesn’t like to show emotion. Although I think he would be a bit of an explorer, wandering the streets at night. He basically becomes a local myth in the city. When he gets his stand he panics and instead of going into a police holding cell he runs into the woods and stays there stubbornly isolating himself (and adding new rumors to his ever growing cryptid stories). His mom does eventually find him but he refuses to go home, snapping at her and calling her an annoying bich for the first time, Star bringing Everything he needs. It’s hard but she had to go home before the sun came up.

Joseph and Alvdol come to help. With the Fortune teller getting Jotaro out of the forest by having him chase him and some encouraging words from his grandfather (little Jojo, I know that your scared of what’s happening, that you may become some kind of monster, but it’s kinda silly to do so because we come from a family of monsters, but we’re all human on the inside, and this new power of yours doesn’t change that one bit) Jotaro heads home.

Yea Joseph and his friends call jotaro Little jojo.

Joseph stays with Holly and Jotaro for a while with Avdol as his bodyguard, because the cult of Dio was acting more suspicious and moving towards his home. He had been able to lead a somewhat normal life and run his own business for a while besides he’s been getting more irritated lately for some reason. But there is no rest for the wicked for the wicked and the cult is waiting and preparing something something Big! And the Kujo household is ironically the best safe house they have. Not many people even know where the Kujos live and you can’t even find their house without knowing how to look for it. The Kujo family is one of Japan’s most hidden secrets. Sadao doesn’t let anyone know he has a family but he loves them all the same.

Jotaro goes out to get some groceries, (cus he is one of the only people in the house that can go outside during the day). His hight does make him stand out but he just pretends he’s a forager visitor only speaking in English. He buys the ingredients for dinner and begins to head home. But on his way back he falls down some stairs because something injured his leg. On high alert after that he accepts the help of some strangers who were around and decided to take the long twisted way home. Some of the groceries would have spoiled but it would be worth the extra caution.

While he is walking home he finds a slip of paper with a message on it in his pocket.

“Today you will burn in the glorious light of life, with my emeralds I will cut you down using my stand.

-Kakyoin Noraki”

Shortly after he processed the information he is thrown into an alleyway, making him cornered. He sees a red headed Japanese boy, wearing some green robes, a circlet with a silver peace in the center and an iconic sun pendant that was essentially the cross for the cult of Dio. He was followed with two people also wearing similar circlets. Jotaro saw green tendrils spreading all around him even above him forming a inescapable web. So yea they fight and they argue during the fight about morality, during the confrontation Jotaro notices that there is something wrong with the other boys eyes.

Jotaro finally wins but something is wrong with his opponent who was knocked out had his eyes shot open and starts spazing. Blood starts dripping from the circlet, namely the center of his forehead. His two companions(?) start grinning sinisterly their circlets are different (basically hamon powered thought remotes) saying that Kakyoin served the order well, he fell to one of the Bloody Stars, they would have to take him on himself. They both get the stuffing beat out of them because they didn’t have stands. Like come on…. I guess they tried to take him on while he was weakened from the fight but still….

Jotaro takes Kakyoin and the remains of the grocery’s back home. They remove the killer circlet with some trouble (similar to the flesh bud) and hand it to the SWF for study, they give the red head some vamp blood (it is great for healing that’s cannon, I mean Joseph was right as rain after the blood transfusion.)

Kakyoin was smug and righteous before but now he just looks haunted…. He doesn’t run away but he is clearly scared and not talking to anyone. He is constantly gripping his sun pendant. Despite the circlet messing with his head he was apparently an genuine worshipper. After being betrayed by members of his own religion and now basically in the presence of their version of the devil and demons, he is not having a good time. Everyone gives him some space and they have him out of the Kujo house hold and into the company on the SWF, he isn’t being held prisoner at all, he can leave any time he wants.

A week pasts and the Jostar family is currently bunking down with minimal contact. It’s now obvious that the cult is doing something BIG.

Then one day Holly just goes feral for some reason, right in the middle of cooking. Jotaro, Joseph and Avdol all do their best to calm her down and constrain without hurting her,Joseph even awakens his stand in the mess but nothing works. Holly actually almost kills Jotaro, it is then her stand awakens and constricts her, vines grapple with any leverage, pulling the kind mother turned savage farther and farther away from her son, tears now falling from her eyes. Finally the stand locks her in a room and binds her hands and legs.

They get the speed wagon foundation to come over quickly and Kakyoin comes along as well. The researchers and the doctors do some research/ try to helpon both Holly without hurting her as well as looking over Jotaro and Joseph. They learn that something is messing with Hollys instincts, she is basically a prisoner of her own mind, whatever this effect is it’s due to the unique bloodline connection the Joestars have (it wasn’t discovered until Holly’s youth, mainly because most parents don’t see their kids grow up in this family) the whole ‘connection’ thing is still pretty mysterious, after confirming that it wasn’t Jotaro and Joseph fault they learn something even scarier, they being effected too. That’s why Jotaro was being more rude, and Joseph being more irritated than usual.

The scientists estimate that in 30 day’s every member of the Jostars would either be overpowered by their body’s instincts or become addicted to feeding on the innocent.

After seeing how scared Jotaro was Kakyoin finally decided to help, “it’s kinda silly and stupid to think anyone is pure evil, we’re to complicated for that, even the devil is a person after all. Just don’t make me regret this,” He tells them about his past, how he and his family were casual worshippers (just go to church on Sundays nothing special that kinda thing he wasn’t going stop his life or make it his entire existence for it) he wasn’t supper hardcore or serious about it. Then one day he gets approached by someone in the church, saying that they knew about hierophant green, and that he had a special power that they called a Stand. Wanting to learn more Kakyoin talked more, they learned a lot about stands, how they worked and others like him. Then they got him to wear the circlet and that forced him to go from a causal worshipper to a full blown zealot willing to die for the cause, they didn’t even see him as a person. He also revealed that the religion had uncovered the corpses of both Dio and Jonathan, about the whole reviving their founder and ‘Purifying’ the bloody stars by studying the original bloodstained Star. The bond of bloodline has been tapped into by the cult.

So yea after learning all that they all decided to stop them from doing anything worse they have to find the lab where the experiments are taking place. Joseph accidentally learns about spirit photography in a fit of rage. They discovered the location (similar to cannon) and Jotaro, Joseph, Avdol, and Kakyoin(he wants to confront the people in his religion) head to Egypt.

But the cult of Dio will not let them taint their holy ground without a fight, they will do what they can to stop the, from reaching their destination.

Thanks for reading ('ω')

[twothpaste]

Giegue/giygas for the ask game, maybe?

First impression: I learned about Giygas through internet osmosis long before I even thought to play EarthBound. All the usual "ooooh this game is secretly sooo dark" and "he's ack-chewally an aborted fetus, see, oooo" kinda shit. I remember it giving me the impression Mother was way scarier and edgier than it turned out to be. (I played games like OFF and Yume Nikki first though. So by the time I got around to Mother, it was very refreshing to play somethin bright & uplifting at its core, lmao.) (In retrospect, I kinda wish Giygas wasn't among the first things every prospective player is told about the EarthBound. Going into the Giygas battle blind seems like it would've rearranged my brain molecules, and I wish I'd gotten to experience it like that.) I forget when exactly I learned about Giegue (I didn't get to play M1 blind either), but I'm pretty sure my first impression was honestly pretty neutral? The imposing presence of a huge alien spaceship, 8-bit sci-fi machinery, and a barely legible creature in a capsule was pretty wicked to see for myself the first time though!

Impression now: Giygas is a big triple decker chocolate layer cake worth of metaphor & symbolism. The existential horror of growing up, the fear of losing who you fundamentally are in the process, the horrific inhumanity adults are capable of, the hopelessness of coming to terms with the world as it is, and so on. Not really a character per se, but the quintessential globular slurry of adolescent angst Ness & pals've gotta contend with. Giegue is a bittersweet little story about a broken family. An internal conflict between vengeance, familial love, and maybe where one's obligations lie? Cool antagonist for sure. I wanna like him more than I do (M1's cryptic hands-off approach to storytelling is hard for me to sink my teeth into 😔). I've speculatively written (and drawn a comic for the upcoming zine 😉) about how Giegue became Giygas, and read some good fics on the topic. In the canon we're given, though? There's really so little binding them together narratively or thematically… I have a difficult time reconciling the two, in the context of the games themselves. Mother 2 in general feels more like a reboot than a sequel - and there's hardly if any "lore" weaving Giegue & Giygas together - so Itoi's choice to declare they're one and the same just seems kinda odd to me. C'est la vie. Fan creators make do.

Favorite moment: The Giygas battle, but like, before he goes sicko mode. When he's bound to a chamber of wires and innards, reflecting Ness' face back at him, and it turns out our fervently raving buddy Porky is actually the one in "control". The atmosphere is so intense and unnerving, such a bizarre yet captivating way to ramp things up. There's like, this sense of stomach-churning dread, as you begin - if only scarcely - to realize the alien overlord you were expecting is an entity far more powerful and personal and helpless and incomprehensible than you ever could've imagined. I mean. You know, because the internet spoiled you when you were 11. But in the bigness of the moment it still makes my mitochondria itch on a primal and cellular level. /pos. Love it.

Idea for a story: My favorite Giegue thing is the vague implication (??) of whatever the hell George did to to him. Y'know, whatever made him hate humanity so much. Whenever I see fan content speculating on how George might've experimented on him or mistreated him I do in fact Feel Somethin' There. (I have been a sucker for angsty-creature-in-a-lab stories from the time I saw Mewtwo Strikes Back in kindergarten all the way to Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 3 a couple months ago, and I don't suppose I'll ever be sick of 'em.) The conflict it introduces between George and Maria is intriguing too. Like, her husband's treating her dearly beloved child like a science project? Trying to extract the secrets of PSI from his oversized alien brain?? You know if this kinda shit went down, those two were on a caliber of divorce drama the world has rarely seen.

Unpopular opinion: I really like Giegue design interpretations that're freaky and grotesque and biologically unfamiliar. When the beast isn't just mammalian in nature. Truly out of this world.

Favorite relationship: A mean-spirited but otherwise ordinary 13-year-old willingly aligned himself with the alien emodiment of all things evil. And the alien embodiment of all things evil willingly let the kid be his right-hand man. And I'm normal about it. EarthBound tells us basically nothing about how Porky n' Giygas' partnership in crime came to be, but speculating about it sends me into a shark frenzy. Porky seeking power over the world that wronged him, at literally any cost. Giygas weaponizing a child's worst, most vengeful impulses. Porky ultimately usurping Giygas, at least in terms of agency. Witnessing the absolute horror his "master" becomes, and simply sidestepping out of the universe itself to dodge the mess he brought about. I like to imagine there was a period where Giygas was still cognizant enough to maintain a rapport with Porky - and that the two of them fucking hated each other. Both of 'em using the other as a means to an end, assured in the conviction they're the one with the upper hand. And they're kind of both wrong. Bloaw up da worl.

Favorite headcanon: Giegue/Giygas speaks (telepathically?) with a rural midwestern accent. Courtesy of the fine folks who raised him. Other aliens probably think it's weird and mondo cringe, but are too intimidated to say so.

[thecoddaughter]

QSMP Characters as The Fray's Discography (Part 1)

So this is going to be the first post in a series of long posts for my "as songs" series. The Fray has always been one of my favorite bands and this made me listen to them for the first time in over three years. Listen along to the first album, linked below <3

HOW TO LOSE A LIFE

Look After You - Tubbo to Sunny (especially right before Purgatory)

“It's always have and never hold. You've begun to feel like home yeah. What's mine is yours to leave or take. What's mine is yours to make your own.”

She Is - Pac about Fit (and how Mike was unsure about them)

“I cannot wait for you to come home. For now you're not here, and I'm not there.” 

“She is everything I need that I never knew I wanted. She is everything I want that I never knew I needed.”

“She's going to bring me clarity. You take the heart right out of me.”

Over My Head - Bad

“Just say that we agree and then never change, soften a bit until we all just get along.” 

“And suddenly I become a part of your past. I'm becoming the part that don't last.” 

“In the throw around, never thought that you wanted to bring it down. I won't let it go down till we torch it ourselves.”

[um, i thought the lyric was “torture ourselves” for 19 years, this was my favorite song for YEARS]

How to Save a Life - Jaiden & Roier [I'm hurting myself with this one]

“As he goes left, and you stay right. Between the lines of fear and blame, you begin to wonder why you came.”

“I lost a friend. Somewhere along in the bitterness and I would have stayed up with you all night, had I known how to save a life.”

“Lay down a list of what is wrong, the things you've told him all along and pray to God he hears you.”

“As he begins to raise his voice, you lower yours and grant him one last choice… He will admit to everything or he'll say he's just not the same.”

All at Once - Slime about his daughters (once he meets Sunny, based on past behavior)

“Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same. Maybe you want her, maybe you need her. Maybe you started to compare to someone not there. Maybe you want it, maybe you need it. Maybe it's all you're running from, perfection will not come.”

Fall Away - Baghera [side note, this song goes hard!]

“You fall away from your past but it's following you.” 

“Something I've done that I can't outrun. Maybe you should wait, maybe you should run but there's something you've said that can't be undone.”

Heaven Forbid - Quackity

“Twenty years, it's breaking you down. Now that you understand, there's no one around.”

“Heaven forbid you end up alone. You don't know why.”

“Would you care to build a house of your own?”

“I don't know how to get you, out of this one”

Hundred - um, I think this is just all the islanders

“But I'm staring at what once was the wall separating east and west. Now they meet amidst the broad daylight.”

“And who's to say its wrong and who's to say that its not right where we should be for now.”

Vienna - Bad & Skeppy (or anyone with a loved one not on the island, I guess)

“The day's last one-way ticket train pulls in. We smile for the casual closure capturingThere goes the downpour. There goes my fare thee well. There's really no way to reach me.”

Dead Wrong - our solvers Pac (science) and Cellbit (enigmas) 

“You said it for my sake, That I would not lose my way. When I was astray, I'm doing the best that I could trying my best to be understood. Maybe I'm changing slowly. I'd get out, turn around if only I knew I was dead wrong all along.”

“Did I really lose my way or are you afraid?”

Little House - Bagi [another banger song!]

“Something scratching its way out. Something you want to forget about. A part of you that'll never show. You're the only one that'll ever know.”

Trust Me - Our Immortals, Foolish and Bad 

“I found a friend or should I say a foe. Said there's a few things you should know. We don't want you to see we come and we go. Here today, gone tomorrow.”

“We're only taking turns holding this world. It's how it's always been. When you're older you will understand.”

“But I said you and me we don't have honesty. The things we don't want to speak. I'll try to get out but I never will.”

[desultory-novice]

These comments seemed to deviate a bit from my “villainous Magolor” post where I discovered them but they also inspired me, so I’ll go with it and deviate some more on the topic of the “villainous friends”...

Now, personally, I've never seen the Mage Sisters as all that heroic. I mean, I adore them. I don't doubt for a second they're part of the good guys "now" but heroic? They're still wearing their evil cult (cough) "religious" uniforms! I imagine all three of them still lean a little hard on the "murder is okay!" side of things.

They helped because they had a reason to help. But are they still going to have “goat sacrifice Tuesdays” for a while? ...Possibly! (It could just be me, but I do think it's hilarious when the entire Jamba gang continue to be blatant worshippers of a dark god while chilling with the rest of the cast.)

I do think that this topic is nearing the core of why my feelings on Magolor have been in flux since DX. I’m happy for him to have a redemption arc, but I really don’t want to see him de-fanged...? I never did write that translation comparison post, but I’m endlessly thankful to the English translation for the “I just want to hear everyone scream...” :pause: “...with laughter!” exchange because it at least shows that Magolor has an unusually grim sense of humor, as opposed to him being a wholly innocent victim of the Crown. 

(Obviously, he did what he did in RtDL. No one’s questioning that. They wouldn’t name a song “Atone for One’s Misdeeds” otherwise. But I am concerned about the implications that the Crown was manipulating him from the moment he landed on Halcandra. Manager Magolor is fun and all, and while I don’t want to have a “Magolor is still the bad guy lol” Kirby Light Novel situation, I hope the sussy wizard stays somewhat sussy down the line.)

Anyway, the long and short of it is my love of gray morality characters is why I fell in love with so many of them and why I try to write all the former-antagonistic Dream Friends as still being in possession of a few villain traits. I really don't want to see anyone "brainwashed into being good" or must-always-be-on-their-best-behavior now. I want to see these flawed individuals make nice but flawed, characterful decisions.

I want the three Mage Sisters to occasionally each say really messed up things in a blithe way without realizing why said thing is weird. I want Susie to think she can solve most things in life by throwing enough money and science at them. I want Taranza to openly white-knight his beloved tyrant queen and naively blink his eight eyes over the awful things he did in her name. 

I want Magolor to engage in shady business practices with a smile and a wink, walking away while counting his cash. I want Dark Meta Knight to whole-heartedly believe murder is a "reasonable" option to most everyday situations. I want Daroach to casually purloin the cast's possessions when they're not specifically watching him, just because he can. I want Marx to break into loud hysterical laughter when someone trips and falls or breaks a plate.

The Dream Friends might as well be 10 different colored Waddle Dees if we expected them to all act good and peaceful and harmless all the time.

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I just wanted to say though, @icedragonlizard​, I don’t know what kind of convos are going on outside my own little space on the internet, but I think people really aren’t as upset or /neg about Susie as they used to be.

There are maybe a few holdouts out there - I wouldn’t know as I don’t really go searching - but you’ll most likely never change those peoples’ minds and its best just to ignore them while shoring up a space for yourself where people aren’t attacking your blorbos just to get a reaction out of you or to spew unhappiness everywhere.

Here, have this “Deal With It” Susie w/ shades!

(PS: I recently learned I had been drawing both Susie and Taranza quite off-model! Her helmet actually goes down way longer than I thought, less of a “headband” and more like a metal boudoir cap. And Taranza’s lowest set of hands start at the middle of his body and go up toward his head. I thought I remembered them as starting at his waist and going down instead. Oops!)