#just an “all hands on deck‚ this is an emergency of the highest order” kind of thing

[fullscoreshenanigans]

#I'm gonna add one possible counterpoint to the idea of them removing the numbers #We have no idea what happened to the Ratri clan's reputation when they had to come clean and proceed with Code Solid #And assuming some of them still try to pretty up their PR from this for whatever reason #The numbers and labels are giant glaring reminders of their giant crime towards these children to the general public #This would always come back to haunt them (via @thathilomgirl)

Good points brought up in the tags. Very depressing to think about the kids being pragmatic in this way with the potential emotional anguish that begins to develop the longer they've been in the human world, though it's something I would have loved seeing explored.

Something that doesn’t surprise me due to how prevalent they are as visuals to remind the audience what series they’re reading and for the multitude of things they represent but is still of interest to me is how I’ve never seen discussions or fanfics that touch upon the removal of the farm tattoos or Lambda branding once the setting switches to the human world. I’ve seen the latter mentioned as a point of distress post-canon (shout-out to chapter 3 of banana_slug_army’s Sunshine and Solace; definitely check it out if you’re a NER enthusiast), but the thought of removing them is never seriously considered by the kids or Moms and Sisters.

Below the cut is an assortment of reasons I’ve gathered for why this is and some musings on them:

Keep reading

[daleisgreat]

Scott Pilgrim vs. The World

A movie podcast I listen to, The Big Picture, did a recent episode on the 10th anniversary of 2010’s Scott Pilgrim vs. The World (trailer). Coincidentally enough, that film remains in my backlog box all these years later, so I made sure to re-watch it before giving that podcast a listen. For those unfamiliar with this film, it is based on a series of six graphic novels of the same name by Bryan Lee O’Malley released between 2004 and 2010. The basic gist is that Scott Pilgrim (Michael Cera) falls for newcomer to town, Ramona Flowers (Mary Elizabeth Winstead). In order to win her over Pilgrim has to defeat Ramona’s “Seven Evil Ex’s.” Scott spends the rest of the film exploring Ramona’s mysterious past and dueling her ex’s while practicing with his band, Sex Bo-Bomb, as they progress through a battle of the bands tournament. Sex Bo-Bomb is one slick act! Stephen Stills (Mark Webber) is the doom-and-gloom frontman of the band. Kim Pine (Alison Pill) is a 2010 take on Daria and effectively nails her vintage expressionless glares and blunt quips. Young Neil (Johnny Simmons) is the affable, DS-loving, always ready alternate for Sex Bo-Bomb. Their #1 fan and also other girlfriend of Scott Pilgrim is one Knives Chau (Ellen Wong). Knive’s arc is probably my favorite of this ensemble cast as her journey from adoring fan and girlfriend to her final destination is a fascinating quest to see develop and a faithful translation from the books.

I first heard of the books on the videogame podcast, Team Fremont Live where they reviewed the first book and their breakdown of it caught my attention when they dissected all the nonstop videogame references that are peppered regularly throughout it. The film captures that imagery to a T where it feels like Pilgrim is living in a real life videogame. In this world suspending disbelief is required because it is jam-packed with extraordinarily choreographed battle scenes, makes anyone capable of instantly pulling off bombastic martial arts moves in the blink of an eye without any training whatsoever, and quirky little animations of objects like Mario Bros.-esque coins and pixelated items inserted throughout that any videogame fan will pick up on. The fighting game fan in me popped a little each time a thunderous “KO” blared out each time Pilgrim emerged victorious after an evil ex duel. As a lifelong fan of videogames, it was fun picking up on all the references and Easter eggs in the background throughout. Scott Pilgrim vs. the World hit at an interesting time where Michael Cera was the only established star at this point in 2010 and was riding the last wave of critical success coming off of Arrested Development, Superbad and Juno. Brandon Routh is noteworthy appearing here as one of the evil ex’s after flaming out in his single appearance in a Superman film. However, a few other stars are here right before they exploded into bigger success like the aforementioned Mary Elizabeth Winstead. Chris Evan is here as another evil-ex shortly after his two Fantastic Four films, but a year before donning the Captain America costume for the first time. Anna Kendrick is here in a small role as Scott’s sister Stacey while in the midst of her initial Twighlight run. Finally, Brie Larson is here as Scott’s evil-ex, Envy Adams and she is the lead for her band, Clash at Demonhead in my personal favorite musical performance of the film as they belt out “Black Sheep.”

It is worth repeating that I highly recommend suspending all disbelief going into Scott Pilgrim vs. the World and simply roll with it. The battle scenes are a hoot to take in and feature a ton of CG that holds up well ten years later. It is also worth pointing out this film is part absurd videogame battles, part early 20s love triangle drama and to a lesser extent part musical with several performances from Sex Bo-Bomb and other bands throughout the film. Director Edgar Wright tracked down a few bands to play the tracks for some of the featured bands in the film such as Beck performing the handful of Sex Bo-Bomb songs in addition to a slew of other tracks from artists like The Rolling Stones and Blood Red Shoes that perfectly supplement the outlandish tone of the film. It is not too often on here I recommend hunting down the soundtracks for a film, but the soundtrack for Scott Pilgrim vs. the World I wholeheartedly recommend! I think the Scott Pilgrim vs. the World BluRay may have set the record for amount of extra features for a single film in the near seven years of movies I have covered on this blog. A rough tally on my notes gives an approximate sum of nearly five hours of bonuses, and then four feature length commentary tracks on top of that! I will not detail every bonus, but will give some highlights of the ones that stood out for me. There is just under a half hour of deleted scenes with or without commentary from Edgar Wright. Most of them are extended scenes from the first act to trim out excess background info, but an alternate ending is what stood out the most that Wright explained he changed because it did not go over that well in test screenings. I can always appreciate a good blooper reel, and an excellent 10 minute reel is compiled here that I would rate right up with the stellar ones in the Marvel films.

There are three features grouped together in the ‘Docs’ section of the extras tallying up to a little over an hour. If you only had time for one of the five hours of bonuses I would go there because that has the core making of documentary which breaks down collaborating with Bryan Lee ‘O Malley, nailing the casting, detailing the extensive stunt training and interviews several of the bands about being featured in the soundtrack. Speaking of the soundtrack, there are four music videos included. Definitely check out the four minute animated short, Scott Pilgrim vs. Animation that is essentially a prequel to the film that dives into Scott and Kim’s former relationship. There are 12 ‘Video Blogs’ totaling 45 minutes that are raw on set interviews with the cast and crew between takes that sees the crew up to all kinds of mischief to kill downtime. This BluRay easily has the largest photo gallery of any home video I have covered with several hundred photos. One gallery is labeled ‘storyboards’ but each storyboard panel is nearly identical to the excellent quality of the art in Bryan Lee O’Malley books so that is essentially a free comic book adaptation of the movie buried in the extras! I experienced all four of the commentary tracks in one re-watch of Scott Pilgrim vs. the World via jumping around to a different commentary about every five minutes. Edgar Wright is on two of them, one with Bryan Lee ‘O Malley and writer Michael Bocall and the other with photography director Bill Pope. The other two commentaries are split among nine cast members, with Michael Cera and the rest of the leading cast on one and the ancillary cast members on the other cast commentary track. Wright has tons of nonstop insight and production facts on his tracks, and the cast tracks are have a lot of fun anecdotes such as Cera failing at trying to get additional people on the commentary via phone call. On top of the commentary I had on during my re-watch was also a factoid subtitle track to really take in the extra features. Despite going on now for three paragraphs about the bonus features, I think I only touched on about half of what is available, and it is truly astonishing to see how much they crammed into one BluRay disc.

A part of me thought going into this that Scott Pilgrim vs. the World would not hold up after 10 years. I would chalk that up to thinking I may have got easily won over with all the hype from being vastly into the books back then and being too caught up into the build to the film’s initial release. I can put those reservations to rest thankfully as I immensely enjoyed this ode to videogame fandom as much as I first did in 2010. Throw in a plethora of extra features to last all year to make Scott Pilgrim vs. the World one of my highest recommendations yet! If you want even more commentary from me about this film than below I have embedded the podcast I originally recorded 10 years ago shortly after seeing the film on its opening weekend. I bring on a couple other special guest hosts that are also ardent Scott Pilgrim fans and we review the film, soundtrack, the books and the videogame. Enjoy!

I brought on a couple other Scott Pilgrim experts on as guest hosts on my podcast to review the film, books, videogame and soundtrack shortly after they all released 10 years ago. Check it out in the embed above for more Scott Pilgrim goodness or click or press here to queue it up for later. Other Random Backlog Movie Blogs 3 12 Angry Men (1957) 12 Rounds 3: Lockdown 21 Jump Street The Accountant Angry Video Game Nerd: The Movie Atari: Game Over The Avengers: Age of Ultron The Avengers: Infinity War Batman: The Dark Knight Rises Batman: The Killing Joke Batman: Mask of the Phantasm Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice Bounty Hunters Cabin in the Woods Captain America: Civil War Captain America: The First Avenger Captain America: The Winter Soldier Christmas Eve Clash of the Titans (1981) Clint Eastwood 11-pack Special The Condemned 2 Countdown Creed I & II Deck the Halls Detroit Rock City Die Hard Dredd The Eliminators The Equalizer Dirty Work Faster Fast and Furious I-VIII Field of Dreams Fight Club The Fighter For Love of the Game Good Will Hunting Gravity Grunt: The Wrestling Movie Guardians of the Galaxy Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2 Hell Comes to Frogtown Hercules: Reborn Hitman I Like to Hurt People Indiana Jones 1-4 Ink The Interrogation Interstellar Jay and Silent Bob Reboot Jobs Joy Ride 1-3 Last Action Hero Major League Man of Steel Man on the Moon Man vs Snake Marine 3-6 Merry Friggin Christmas Metallica: Some Kind of Monster Mortal Kombat Mortal Kombat Legends: Scorpions Revenge National Treasure National Treasure: Book of Secrets Not for Resale Pulp Fiction The Replacements Reservoir Dogs Rocky I-VIII Running Films Part 1 Running Films Part 2 San Andreas ScoobyDoo Wrestlemania Mystery The Secret Life of Walter Mitty Shoot em Up Slacker Skyscraper Small Town Santa Steve Jobs Source Code Star Trek I-XIII Sully Take Me Home Tonight TMNT The Tooth Fairy 1 & 2 UHF Veronica Mars Vision Quest The War Wild The Wizard Wonder Woman The Wrestler (2008) X-Men: Apocalypse X-Men: Days of Future Past

[e350tb]

Steven Universe: A Lovely Family Dinner

(thanks to @real-fakedoors for proofreading!)

Steven Universe was a bit confused.

He had just been wrapping up band practice with Sadie and the Cool Kids when he’d gotten a strange message from Pearl. ‘Family dinner tonight’, it said - which was odd, as they’d never really done that before, and Pearl didn’t like eating. A second message, ‘Greg’s idea,’ calmed him down somewhat, convincing him that had hadn’t entered some kind of bizarre parallel universe, but he was still perplexed as he wandered back towards his house. What was the occasion? Did he forget his dad’s birthday or something?

He tapped a message to Connie as he strolled down the last stretch of beach towards the house.

Just weird - every time we do this, it’s because I planned it.

Yeah, that doesn’t sound like the Gems at all. Except maybe Amethyst.

Probably Dad’s idea. Maybe I have another long-lost relative? :D

XD

Well, I’ll let you know what it is. I’ll send you a message if it’s bad or something.

Got it. See you later.

He was just reaching the steps up to the house when he got a second message. He pursed his lips - it was Lapis.

You seen Peridot?

“That’s weird,” Steven muttered to himself.

I thought she was at home with you?

I’m not home, I’m out. Peridot’s supposed to meet me here.

I’m about to head inside - I’ll let you know if she’s at the Temple.

Steven sent her a smiley emoji before trudging up the steps. It was late - the moon was starting to appear in the east of the dark sea, bright and full, and as he reached the deck, Steven realised that the lights were out. That was odd - was it a surprise party or something?

He swallowed. Yes, surprise party. Definitely. No need to feel concerned.

Slowly, he opened the door. The room was dark - only the dim, silvery light of the moon illuminated the room. A single table had been set up in the middle of the kitchen, and behind it, Steven could just about make out the silhouette of his father. Slowly, he stepped into the room, tilting his head in confusion.

“Uh, dad?��� he asked, “What’s…”

“Steven…”

Greg spoke up, his voice shaking, his tone urgent.

“Dad?” Steven repeated nervously.

“Run.”

The door suddenly slammed shut, and Steven just about jumped out of his skin. He turned, finding himself face-to-face with Pearl - she was smiling serenely, her eyes closed as she put a hand on his shoulder.

“Pearl?” Steven croaked.

Pearl opened her eyes - her irises were a shining white, glowing brilliantly in the darkness.

“Hello, Starlight.”

Steven’s eyes widened, his heartbeat quickening and his skin crawling. It couldn’t be her… it just… it just couldn’t…

“W-W-White Diamond…”

Without looking at the screen, Steven began to tap urgently on the phone - WD HELP. His thumb moved to where he thought the send button was, but just as he tapped it, he felt the device yanked from his fingers. He turned around; Amethyst held it up, her face set in the same parody of a smile as Pearl’s, and her eyes glowing the same colour.

“Now, now,” she said, “These primitive human communications devices are so beneath us, my dear. I’ll make sure to get you a more suitable one when you get home.”

She clenched her fist, crushing the phone into pieces.

“L-let them go!” shouted Steven, “They’re not your puppets!”

“Ah, the idealism of youth.” Garnet stepped out of the shadows, walking over to the table and leaning over it. “Silly little Starlight, all gems are mine.”

“Mine and yours, in fact.” Bismuth walked out from behind the kitchen counter, wearing that same grin.

“No… no!” Steven shouted, “I don’t own anyone!”

“Yes, yes, I’ve heard that one before,” said Peridot, emerging from the bathroom, “But I’m afraid it’s time to stop playing, Pink. It’s time to talk about our glorious future.”

The gems gathered around the table and sat down, leaving the heads open for Steven and Greg. Garnet glanced at the human, patting the chair on her end - he swallowed and nervously sat down. Slowly, Steven did the same. It was not a cold evening, but he felt as though he were sitting in a freezer - the long oppressive shadows cast by the moon gave everything a sinister feel, particularly the gems, whose faces - and unsettling smiles- were lit by the strange lights in their eyes.

“So,” said Greg, scratching the back of his head, “Alien dictator, huh?”

“I would prefer to say benevolent divinity,” said Garnet evenly.

“...cool,” replied Greg, sweating slightly.

“What do you want from me, White Diamond?” asked Steven, “I… I can’t be Pink Diamond for you. I just can’t…”

“Oh, Starlight, I know it must be daunting for you,” interrupted Pearl, her tone a bone chilling parody of motherliness, “But it’s your destiny. You are one of the four pillars of perfection…”

“I’m not!” replied Steven, “Nobody is! Everybody makes mistakes…”

“Not Diamonds,” said Bismuth.

Garnet snorted.

“Well, not good Diamonds, anyway,” continued Amethyst, “And you are a good Diamond, aren’t you?”

Steven found himself gritting his teeth.

“No,” he said firmly, “I’m not, and I don’t want to be.”

“That’s just your youth talking,” said Peridot jovially, “You’ll see in time.”

“Uh, White Diamond?” Greg nervously spoke up, “I… I think you should let Steven do what he wants to do. I mean, if he’s a Diamond, h-h-he should be…”

Garnet put a hand on his shoulder, and Greg froze.

“You are an adorable specimen, Mr. Universe,” she said, “But you do not know what you are talking about.”

She withdrew her hand after a condescending pat, and Greg shuddered, clutching the table to stop his hands from shaking.

“The future is coming, Pink,” said Pearl, “I’ve worked on it for eons, and the time finally approaches.”

“The time for what?” demanded Steven.

The grins grew wider.

“A perfect Gem Race,” declared Bismuth.

Steven unconsciously pushed his chair backwards.

“I had wondered since time immemorial why our colonies failed,” continued Amethyst, “Why they always ended up being abandoned once the resources ran out. Why there was so much wastage, so much infighting, so much hideous, hideous chaos. Why things weren’t being ordered the way they were supposed to be.”

“And then I realised,” said Peridot, “Gemkind was beset with a terrible disease that blocked us from our destined perfection.”

“A… and what was that?” asked Steven, wiping sweat from his forehead.

“The disease of the individual,” replied Bismuth.

Steven’s stomach churned.

“Look at this mess!” exclaimed Garnet, extending her arms, “Fusions! Runts! Loose Pearls! Good for the playtime of a wayward Diamond, but to create a lasting, powerful Empire! Pathetic. We need to be better.”

“We need Strength,” said Amethyst.

“Loyalty,” said Bismuth.

“Sensibility,” said Peridot.

“Logic,” said Garnet.

“Obedience,” said Pearl.

“And then I realised,” continued Bismuth, “There are so very few perfect minds in this race - ours, in fact. And so…”

“...we must become more,” said Peridot, “Their will must become…”

“...our will,” said Garnet, “Their thoughts must become…”

“...our thoughts,” said Pearl, “Their beings must become…”

“...our being.”

This, they said as one unit.

“Wait,” said Greg, “I think I saw this on a late night move once. You mean you’d become a… a hive mind?”

“Four hive minds,” corrected Bismuth, “White. Yellow. Blue. Pink. We would be more than Diamonds, we would be truly celestial beings. And with our combined wisdom in the bodies of trillions, all of existence would serve Homeworld. Organics could be cleansed, off-colors eradicated, all worlds would be ours. All of existence would bend to the will of the Master Race - even time itself would not be able to stop us.”

“But why?” exclaimed Steven.

Pearl smiled sweetly, leaning over and putting a hand on Steven’s shoulder.

“All existence is made for us, Starlight,” she said, “It is the natural order. The universe is calling our name.”

Greg swallowed loudly.

“But that… that can’t be it!” exclaimed Steven, “There’s gotta be something else! Like, Homeworld is dying, or there’s a war, or the resource shortage thing, or…”

“...a higher calling?” Pearl laughed. “Starlight, we are the highest calling there is.”

Steven swallowed.

“I can’t… I thought…”

He took a deep breath and looked Pearl in the eye.

“I thought there was some big plan,” he said, “But there’s not. There never was. You’re just… really selfish.”

He stood up, pushing his chair to the floor.

“White Diamond, I’m sorry you lost mom,” he said, “But Pink Diamond is gone. She’s never coming back, and I…”

“Of course you are, Starlight, you…”

“No! You listen to me!”

Steven’s voice echoed in the dark room.

“I am not Pink Diamond,” he said firmly, “And I will never join you.”

There was a long silence.

“Oh, Starlight,” said Pearl at last, as she and the other Gems stood up, “I think I’ve indulged you a little bit too much. I had wanted you to see things my way, but if I must drag you home kicking and screaming…”

The Gems drew their weapons.

“...I will,” they all said.

The room fell silent again. You could have heard a pin drop, if not for the sound of rushing water outside.

Wait… rushing water?

Steven slowly turned around, just in time to see the massive wall of water slam into the house, blasting the doors and windows open and submerging the living room, floor to ceiling. He braced himself but felt nothing - opening his eyes, he found himself encased in a small bubble, around which the water flowed.

Suddenly, the ocean that engulfed his home was yanked backwards. His bubble was flung back out through the door and onto the sandy beach - the water receded quickly, after which the bubble popped unceremoniously.

He was kneeling on the beach, his father next to him - he seemed to have been saved by his own bubble. In front of them, the gems were sprawled on the sand, soaked from head to toe. He looked up, and couldn’t help but grin - Lapis Lazuli hovered overhead, arms outstretched as she returned the last of the water to the sea.

“Steven!”

Quite suddenly, Lion skidded to a halt next to him, and Connie jumped down from his back. She jumped down, sword drawn.

“Where’s White Diamond?” she demanded, “I…”

She was cut off by five completely identical laughs.

The Gems had climbed to their feet, and were standing in a row in front of the beach house. They moved in sync - even the tiniest fidget was echoed by all five forms.

“...she’s there,” said Steven, unable to keep his voice from shaking.

“Ah, the Lapis Lazuli,” they said as one, “Another errant Gem for my new collection.”

“No!” shouted Steven, “You stay out of her mind!”

“My mind?” asked Lapis, landing next to them, “Steven, what’re you talking about? Are they…”

The Gems held out their hand. Panicked, Steven gazed at Lapis, waiting for her eyes to suddenly turn white.

There was a long silence, but nothing happened.

“Curious,” White Diamond’s thralls said, “Very curious. It seems you’re a defective, Lazuli.”

“A… a what?” asked Lapis.

“Sad,” they said, “You’ll never get to experience the true perfection of Gemkind. And, of course, you’ll have to be shattered.”

“Perfection?” demanded Lapis, “I don’t care about perfection! Get out of Peridot, get away from Steven, and get off of my planet!”

“If we have to bubble you, we will!” snapped Connie, although she didn’t sound very sure of that. Steven couldn’t blame her - even if they were mind controlled, poofing the Gems felt wrong to him.

“I do not take orders from a Lapis Lazuli,” sniffed White Diamond, “As for you, Starlight, my patience is wearing thin. You may have one more reprieve to play with your things while I prepare the final stages of the plan, but after that, I’ll need you to come home. Your destiny awaits.”

They smiled once more.

“I’ll see you very soon,” they said, “I love you.”

There was a sudden, blinding flash of white light.

When Steven’s eyesight returned, he found himself staring at an empty patch of sand. The beach was silent, save for the sounds of crashing waves and the rapid beat of his heart. Where were the Gems? Where was his family?

Before he quite knew it, he found himself running, skidding to a halt at the footprints where the Gems had once been. He stared at them for a moment before his feet gave way and he fell to his knees.

“Steven?”

He felt a hand on his shoulder - a second later, it was followed by another, larger one. It took a moment for him to register that it was Connie and Greg.

“No, no no no no no, you bring them back!” he heard Lapis shout, “You hear me, White Diamond! You bring them BACK!”

Slowly, Steven put rubbed his hand over one of Pearl’s footprints, watching numbly as his fingers rubbed it away.

“She took them,” he said blandly, “They’re… they’re gone…”

[balladserial]

Episode 1: Part 2

Chaos ensues almost immediately. I think I see Mikael hopping on Clairvoyance’s back piggy-back style out of the corner of my eye, but it’s hard to keep track of them for longwith people rushing this way and that. Between everyone scattering and the shouting of the Guard over the bar noise, it’s difficult for anyone to keep track of their surroundings.

That’s good for me.

I sprint across the room like a bat out of hell, ducking briefly under the arm of one of the Guards. My legs sweep glasses to the floor with a clamor of sound as I vault over the bar, but I hardly have time to stop and apologize. I can smell ozone in the room behind me, and that smell never precedes anything good.

Hellfire in a bar full of alcohol? What the fuck are they thinking?

I don’t intend to stick around and find out.

A cluster of fearfully huddling serving staff blocks the way to the kitchen, and I don’t have time to ask them to move. I barrel right through, knocking two of the more lightweight of them to the floor.

“Sorry!” I yell over my shoulder, already halfway through the kitchen.

Elbowing the last of the kitchen staff out of the way, I emerge through the kitchen door into the golden light of the fading sunshine.

I hear shouting and heavy footfalls behind me. Shit. I still have a tail, although I don’t dare look over my shoulder to see who’s pursuing me. Instead, I pick up the pace, my worn shoes skidding over the rough cobblestone street as I turn a sharp corner.

All this running is not doing wonders for my lungs. My chest contracts in sharp pain. It feels like a weight is pressing down on my lungs, squeezing out the oxygen like so much toothpaste. It’s not a comfortable feeling. My breaths come shallow and half-filled.

The pedestrian path ahead rounds the top of a hill, and the city of Greater Mercy lays itself out before me. It’s an enviable city, all golden minarets and silver spires. Vertically built, with walkways between the buildings at even the highest levels, the city feels more like a spider’s web than something man made. I swing myself onto a pedestrian ladder at full force and climb like my life depends on it, in the vain hope that maybe all that armor will weigh the Guard down some.

I should be so lucky.

The path at the top of the ladder hits a crossroads, intersected by a magnetic levitation track. I strain to sprint past the crossing in time,, but I feel a deep panic well up in my throat as the pedestrian gate falls closed, signaling that a train is coming. I can’t breathe at all now, and I can feel heat rising to my face as I skid to a sudden stop.

A quick glance behind me shows the Guard is mere moments away. It seems I only have two of them on my tail: a short Guard whose silver armor is still shiny and unscratched, struggling to keep up the pace, and the gold-plated Order member from before. Her hair is long, brown and plaited neatly to the back of her head. She has severe features, and I sincerely doubt she’ll be in the mood to let me bluff my way out of this. Which leaves me with one move left.

The supply train glides towards us silently, with the kind of stealth I’d expect out of a train that literally does not touch its tracks. I have only a split second to judge its speed, and I take the risk. Unfurl the rope on my belt, throw the hook at the end, and hold tight.

Real tight.

The force of the car passing nearly pulls my arms out of my sockets, but I maintain my grip. The momentum swings me upward, and my hands scream in protest, but find purchase on a ridge in the metal. And just like that, I’m riding the train. I’m RIDING the SUPPLY TRAIN.

The wind rips a whoop of joy from my lungs, adrenaline triggering waves of giddy laughter.

I exhale. Speaking of my lungs. I furiously untuck my shirt and reach underneath, carefully undoing the hook-and-eye clasps under my right arm until the tight fabric of my binder falls away and releases the pain in my chest. I cough loudly, willing air into my lungs until they fill up once again.

I’m just beginning to get comfortable, perched atop the speeding train, when a deafening noise erupts from behind me. I hit the deck before my brain has even processed the sound, reflex taking over my body and slamming it to the cart’s roof. My already sore chest smarts with blinding pain, my ribs smacking at full force into the harsh metal.

The front of the car in front of me erupts into blue flame, the smell of smoke and ozone acrid and unfamiliar against my nostrils. The Hellfire is a good ten feet from me, but I can still feel the heat on my skin as if I had been standing a foot from a heater. It burns through the solid steel the way I’m told ordinary fire might burn paper. Its uneven, flickering light casts everything around it, including my own face, in a cold, eerie sheen. My heart pounds in my gut.

That could have been me.

“Tal Nika Joane!” calls a booming voice from the direction of the caboose. It’s to the Guard’s credit that I can hear her at all over the rushing wind. “By order of Her Highness, Princess Arrellia Valonde, you are under arrest for crimes against the Principality!”

“I’m sure I am!” I shout back, clinging to the car for dear life.

“Come back with your hands above your head and you will be taken in peacefully! Continue to resist, and we will continue to shoot!” bellows the voice, not sounding particularly amused with my very funny quip.

“Serious question?” I yell back, still straining to make my voice heard over the wind. “How many people in high speed train chases actually go for that? I gotta know what percentage of the Principality are actually credulous schmucks-”

Another burst of Hellfire erupts about three feet to my left. This time the heat is close enough to irritate my skin, like a bad sunburn.

I have to get out of here, but I’m essentially trapped between two walls of cobalt flame. Both of which are slowly creeping in on my position. The only direction I can run is toward the Guard.

I glance over my shoulder toward the front of the train. It’s about to round a bend, then the track dips and heads through a small, curated forest-like area to a tunnel with about two feet of clearance from the top of the train. I’m on a time limit, and I need to make a decision fast.

My jaw clenches vise-tight, but I put my hands on my head and walk, slowly, towards the caboose. My heart thrums at hummingbird speed inside my ribs, but I will my outsides to stay calm. A deep breath: in for five seconds, hold for five, out for eight.

The Guard meets me halfway, climbing onto the roof of the train just in time to grab both my hands. She wrenches them roughly behinds my back and begins to fasten them with a pair of iron cuffs.

“Tal Nika Joane,” she booms, practically yelling in my ear. “you are under arrest for multiple counts of underage drinking, truancy, petty theft, vandalism, aiding and abetting a known fugitive, and piracy.”

She pauses to breathe. I don’t blame her, my rap sheet is pretty impressive.

“You retain your right to silence until an advocate can be acquired. If you cannot acquire an advocate, you are entitled to self-representation.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I reply, wriggling my hand a little as she struggles with the cuffs. I can almost feel something inside her bag, I just need to distract her long enough to reach it. “Listen, you couldn’t have done this like a year earlier when I was still a minor? I’m too young and pretty to spend my life in jail, yknow? Look at me, I wouldn’t make it two weeks.”

The Guard rolls her eyes and yanks my arm a little too hard in the wrong direction. I manage to bite down on the pain, but only just.

“You should have thought about that before you became a pirate,” the Guard says smugly. “But don’t worry, kiddo. With the crew you run with? I doubt jail is what the Princess has in mind for you.”

The train veers to the right, and I swallow. I’m not entirely sure what she’s implying, but I can make a rough guess, and I’m not a fan.

“Cool,” I say out loud, clenching both fists. “Well, as fun as that sounds, word of advice?”

“Huh?”

“Duck.”

I pivot on one foot and swing the steel cuffs at full speed into the side of her face. There’s a satisfying crack as her nose breaks under the force and blood begins to flow freely down her face. I desperately wish I had time to savor the hit, but time waits for no man. The train is swiftly approaching the tunnel and there’s only one way off this thing.

I pitch my body sideways, and briefly, I am weightless. The feeling doesn’t last long. I feel the familiar pull at my guts as gravity grabs me back and I fall, crashing my way through tree branches and brush until I finally roll to a stop on the leaf-covered ground.

Everything hurts.

I can feel the beginnings of some nasty bruises all over my body, and a dull throbbing pain in my shoulder tells me the bone is probably dislocated. I’m not sure what else is broken, but the continuing pounding in my chest tells me that I’m not dead, and that’s the most important part.

“You good, Tal?” calls a familiar tinny voice from just above me.

I struggle to my feet. It’s not an easy task, what with the pounding in my head, the world swimming around me, and my arm threatening to detach itself from my torso entirely.

“Clair?” I ask aloud. “Where are you?”

“Behind you, doofus.”

I turn. Indeed, hovering in the air behind me is a fist-sized orb made from intricately constructed bronze. It’s held aloft by a single spinning propellor, buzzing around me like a really weird, oversized bee. On the side of the orb facing me is a single blue eye.

“So are you dead now?” says Clairvoyance, hovering by my clearly injured arm smugly. “Because if you’re dead I get your stuff, that’s the arrangement.”

“I never agreed to that,” I grumble, massaging my limp arm. “And I’m not dead. Where are the others?”

“Back on the ship,” he replies. “It’s docked a few blocks west of here. Wanna head out, or would you rather go back and hang for your crimes against humanity?”

“Get fucked,” I groan, pushing past him in the direction of the slowly fading sunset. He chuckles behind me and speeds to catch up.

“Glad you’re not dead,” he says. After a brief pause, I grin.

“Course you are.”

--

The last rays from the setting sun slink down over the horizon by the time I reach the jutting rock where the good ship Vega Vespa has laid anchor. I’m immediately conscious of how much of a mess I am. My binder is still unfastened beneath my shirt, my hair disheveled (more so than usual) and the knees of my trousers are torn through. The one shackle that Guard managed to fasten still dangles from my injured arm, making me wince in pain every time I move.

Still, the landing point is nice. I can feel the thrumming of the enormous propellers keeping the city afloat beneath my feet, and beyond the sharp drop where the ship is docked, I see a sea of clouds and sky cloaking the distant treetops of Arcadia V’s surface. The ship itself looms far over us. An enormous metal contraption, held aloft by an enormous balloon filled with hydrogen, powered by massive solar sails that billow in the brisk, cliffside wind.

A figure on the deck grabs a loose rope and swings to solid land, bypassing the gangplank entirely. Captain Warring lands with the same grace as usual, although the flyaways in her hair and the sheen of sweat on her face give away a level of stress I haven’t seen on her in a while. I can imagine why; the Vega Vespa isn’t a small ship. There has to be a limit to how long she can leave it docked here.

“Joane,” says the captain, closing the distance between us in two short strides. “What the hell happened?”

“I ran into some...Guard-related problems,” I explain sheepishly, feeling my face go red. “I might have jumped off a train.”

“You might have-” Captain Warring looks literally the most tired I have ever seen her be. “Joane. You are on deck duty for the next two weeks once you’re healed and fit for manual labor. Go see Gratitude.”

“Captain-” I start.

“Do not test me,” she snaps. “You could have been killed.”

“Yeah,” I admit, rummaging with my good hand in my pocket. “But I also got this.”

From my pocket I pull a yellowed, folded piece of paper. I unfold it. Official Principality letterhead.

“Flight schedule of the P.A.S. Condor. Transportation of black bar goods.” I let out a shaky breath.

“Docking in West Compassion on October 1st.”

[Episode 1 Part 1] - [Episode 1 Part 3]

[a-k-a-ruenis]

Small Shock

Rating; Teen and +

Fandom; Aldnoah.Zero

Relationship; Slaine Troyard / Kaizuka Inaho

Tags; Mental Health Issues, Depression, Anxiety

Chapter 1/?

Story under the cut!

Alternatively, please click here to read it on my Ao3!

Chapter 1

Being a navy officer on the Wadatsumi is surprisingly enjoyable.

She is a rather large ship, and given her lack of artillery, the crew is not expected to engage in very many skirmishes. She is expected to mostly transport cargo instead, crates of food, barrels of gunpowder, boxes of various weaponry.. she brings them to various ports and countries, as well as small groups of people occasionally, whether they be captured pirates or citizens of various places.

Though she serves naval officers a small crew of naval officers, her fleet is not expected to specialise in fighting. They do board pirate ships every-so-often when prompted to, and they are rather adept at handling themselves, adept enough to prevent any major injury. Each and every one of them are properly, rigorously trained. Before the Wadatsumi sets sail, any new, potential enlistments are tested on their skill with any kind of sword and gun – any other weapon training or testing is done off-ship. Most crewmen use the standard rapier and pistol combo, it being the most easy to learn.

Kaizuka Inaho has a rapier of his own, though he rarely uses it. It was a gift from his sister when he informed her of his final decision to enlist in the fleet as she did. It is made of silver, and it looks more decorative than usable, if he is to be honest, though it functions perfectly well for what it was made to do. Like most of the crew, he also has a pistol with him, that he uses far more frequently, more used to how it works and feels.

“Hey, be careful, Nao!” a familiar voice calls.

Inaho turns his head slightly to find Yuki leaning over the railing near the ship's wheel, a small, worried frown on her features. Adjusting himself somewhat as he leans against the ship's railing, he offers her a small nod and a wave of acknowledgment.

Even as an adult, he is still rather petite and childish looking; he has not from much from his teenage years, and is nearing the age where people generally seem to stop growing any taller. During his three years of enlistment, he has gone overboard twice no thanks to rough waters and his inability to weigh down a rowboat by himself. Both times, he nearly drowned, and would have had it not been for the crew’s quick rescue of him.

“It’s been awhile since you’ve fallen off, though,” another voice offers, teasing.

Grunting softly when a sudden weight is thrown over his shoulders, Inaho finds himself being pushed gently against the railing. It is enough to pin him down, but not enough to hurt him. “Calm..” He tries to maneuver himself out from under the blond, failing when the other rests more of his weight against him.

Calm snickers, playfully pushing Inaho down more. “You prob’ly shouldn’t lean against the railing. You might fall over again,” he teases, knowing full well that Inaho cannot follow his advice. Though he is younger, he takes joy in the fact that he can overpower the other in at least this way.

In actual combat, Inaho is faster.

“Anyway..” Calm hums, “Nina spotted a pirate ship followin’ us in the distance.. So the cap'n says not to wander off this time, when we board, ‘kay?”

Inaho makes a soft sound of acknowledgment.

“Great. I’ll see ya, then!” Calm says, pulling away. Before his friend can retaliate, he runs back toward the hold, leaving the brunet to only gaze after him in slight frustration.

The ocean’s waves are loud in his ears, and Inaho glances back toward Yuki, who is still at the helm with a quiet Marito. There is no way she had heard their conversation, though she would most likely agree with their captain – there is little doubt that he remains a naval officer solely because of Yuki’s intervention, and for that, he is grateful.

Captain Magbaredge gives him the same instructions each time they come across pirates.

.. Inaho just chooses not to listen, most of the time.

*

The crew is like family, in a way. Inaho regards most of them as such. Like a family, they have someone they are supposed to listen to – their Captain Magbaredge, who is the highest rank on the ship and is charged with giving them orders that the crew carries out.

However, though Inaho knows and understands that captain Magbaredge is several ranks above him.. he has little understanding and acknowledgment for authority. Growing up with mainly Yuki to serve as an ‘authority’ figure did not do much for him, especially when he was on his own while she was out to sea.

Captain Magbaredge’s orders are important, but he sees no reason to follow them if there is something he is capable of doing on his own.

Inaho wants to help and keep busy. So he finds things to do, even if it means ignoring the captain's orders.

Disregarding the captain’s orders as he wanders through the pirate’s hold, he listens as the Wadatsumi crew scrambles about above him, their footsteps heavy and loud. The pirates are tied up and subdued, so that the captain can question them. Pirates following a visibly naval ship is not a good sign.

The pirates do not have much in the way of treasure down here, a disappointment he has grown used to. Not many pirates have anything akin to treasure at all, and most of the time, they simply have stolen ammunition and weapons. From what Inaho has seen so far, their food supply is ample, and they have a dangerously large weapon supply – once he returns, he will have to inform the captain, and they will have to confiscate the guns and gunpowder.

Making his way toward the last cabin, he slows down upon seeing that this door is different than the others. It is shut, for one, and lacks a proper viewing window, making it unlike all the others. Even the captain’s door has a small window with bars over it. He turns the knob slowly, hand at his side, ready to draw his gun if need be, and hesitantly peeks his head through the gap.

Inaho sucks in a surprised breath upon seeing what is inside.

*

“Sound off!” Magbaredge order. A young woman with hair the same shade of a raven's wing stands beside her. “Mizusaki, take roll,” she says, gazing at the roll of parchment in her first mate’s hands. It lists the names of the Wadatsumi's crew, and is separated by the crew’s roles – those who are part of the fighting squad, and those who mainly remain on the ship during raids.

“Marito?”

“Present.”

“Kakei?”

“Present!”

“Amifumi?”

“Present, ma'am!”

“Kaizuka senior?”

“Present.”

“Kaizuka junior?”

Immediately looking around at their small gathering, Yuki groans inwardly upon seeing that, once again, her little brother is nowhere to be found. “Why, Nao..?” she sighs, shaking her head a few times, “The captain’s going to chew you out again..!”

“.. Kaizuka junior?” Mizusaki calls again, raising her head from the parchment. She scans the deck slowly, trying to make sure the young officer is not hiding amongst the detained pirates or their own crew. When she does not see him, she looks to the other woman at her side, meeting Magbaredge’s narrowed green eyes. “Captain..”

“Kakei, get Craftman,” Magbaredge orders, earning a quick salute from the man before he runs across the deck. Kakei boards their own ship quickly, minding his steps when he crosses the plank that connects their ships, and disappears down into the hold through the open door.

Yuki sighs softly, wondering why Inaho persists in ignoring orders again and again. The captain does not punish him harshly, to be fair, and Inaho does the extra chores he is assigned without arguing. Or maybe her little brother just truly does not mind the consequences. “Captain..” she starts to say.

“We'll hold off on discussing punishment until we find him, Kaizuka,” Magbaredge says, shaking her head somewhat. “He has to be found first.”

“Captain, I have returned with Craftman.”

The two walk over, Calm's footsteps slightly heavier than Kakei's. It seems as if he was in the middle of repairs, still wearing his work uniform.

The boatswain smiles rather sheepishly as he gazes at the captain, pulling at his hair, “Yes, cap'n..?”

“You gave Kaizuka junior my orders, correct?”

“Y.. yes, cap'n,” Calm nods, carefully meeting her gaze, “I told him. And I thought he agreed, but..”

Magbaredge sighs as she shakes her head, pressing her fingers to her temple.

Inaho is.. one of the more unique officers they have come across. Hard working, but eccentric, and prone to causing more problems of his own when he wanders off. Though he has yet to become injured from his own recklessness, his luck is bound to eventually run out.

“I see,” the captain finally says, “Marito, take Kaizuka senior wi–..”

“G-get back here!”

Swift, heavy footsteps follow after the demand, causing Magbaredge and Mizusaki to turn around in surprise. Tensing up, Calm takes a few steps backward, having left his pistol and rapier back on the ship. Without any way to defend himself, he is a liability on deck.

“Behind, Craftman,” Kakei says, and Calm does just that, retreating to the railing, just behind the black haired young man. He, along with the rest of the crew draw their swords, rigid as the footsteps come closer and closer until –

“I.. Inaho?!”

Emerging from the hold, Inaho runs up the stairs as best he can, holding a rather oddly shaped bundled blanket against his chest. It almost looks like..

“Ah..”

Inaho loses his footing on the last stair, as well as his hold on the bundle. Both he and the bundle fall to the deck, though Inaho's head hits far harder than the bundle. The blanket stirs, a barely quiet whimper escaping it. “Grab him!” he says quickly, drawing his pistol. He aims is downward, at the stairwell leading to the hold. “I will shoot you if you move,” he says, “and so will the rest of our crew.” It is not a threat. There is no malice. It is a hard, cruel fact and he would not hesitate to do so should the pirate try anything.

The bundle stirs again, though this time it moves enough to be noticed. Another quiet whimper escapes it, causing Inaho to tense up.

“Yuki-nee. Marito,” he calls, hearing footsteps behind him, “please detain this person.” He gets up slowly, finger still on the delicate trigger to his pistol. A flick is all it would take. “Captain, when we get back, please charge them with kidnapping and unnecessary violence against an unarmed civilian.” Taking a few steps backward, he rests his free hand against the wall, keeping his eyes firm on the pirate, who is still collapsed on the stairway.

They had fallen when they tripped Inaho, and there is a glare on their features. Despite that, they remain still, and do not draw the shortsword at their waist. “That's our priceless treasure!” they cry, glare deepening when Marito forces their arms behind their back.

Marito sighs softly as Yuki unravels some rope that had been hanging on her belt, watching as she ties the pirate's wrists together like they had done the others. “You never cease to surprise, Kaizuka junior,” he murmurs, shaking his head.

“We're confiscating your 'priceless treasure',” Inaho says, ignoring the older man as he sheathes his pistol. Following after Yuki and Marito, he waits until they have passed to crouch down and pick the bundled blanket back up. He pulls the fabric aside to reveal a pained face belonging to a blond, who's features are that of confusion and fear. “People aren't 'treasures',” he mumbles, frowning somewhat as the blond coughs.

“They were detaining him?” Magbaredge questions, looking surprised. They have not had to deal with hostage situations for awhile, and no one has been reported missing recently. They make a point to check boards and receive messages and orders at each port they stop at.

“He was tied up in the hold, in a back room,” Inaho answers with a nod, taking a few short steps forward, “Captain, may I bring him to Yagarai?” Keeping quiet when the blond presses his face to his neck, his gaze slips to the blond’s ruffled, platinum hair. Another pained whimper escapes the hostage’s lips, low and soft.

“Do so immediately, Kaizuka junior. See to it that his injuries are properly attended to,” Magbaredge orders, gesturing to their own ship.

Inaho bows as best he can, careful not to drop the blond again, and continues toward the Wadatsumi.

“And, Kaizuka?”

“Yes, captain?” he asks, stopping to glance at her.

“You will not be reprimanded for going off on your own, but please think about the potential consequences to your actions.”

“.. yes, captain.”

[instakpop]

Baekhyun scenario - (play)boy next door (1/2)

requested by @byunshim

genre: ANGST (for Baekhyun)

Featuring Chanyeol (fluff for him)

summary: Having a crush on your young wealthy neighbor, Baekhyun, is something you could never admit. His weekend parties have always sparked your interest but your studious state of mind holds you back until your gorgeous friends come back to town and Baekhyun suddenly notices a reason to invite you. But is worth it?

"Y/n! I'm heading to work. Do you need me to order you some dinner or are you okay?" My big sister shouted.

"No, thanks. I'm good!" I answered. I knew it was going to be a long night for her so I figured I wouldn't take any time away from her patients. She's a doctor at the hospital nearby and she normally works int he emergency room so her hours are really long. Some days she'll be gone for over 12 hours.

"Okay. Have a good night... and morning!" She hollered down the hallway.

"Bye!"

I got up from my bed and covered myself with a plush blanket and went to my desk to try and read a few more chapters of my book. I put on my headphones and drowned out the whole world.  I always preferred to just focus on my studies. My sister did and now she's one of the highest paid doctors at the local hospital.

I was taken out of the fantasies in my book once I got a notification. I jumped up when I saw it was my best friend! She just got back from studying abroad in Machu Pichu and wanted to have lunch tomorrow. I quickly sent my reply and our plan was set in stone. I was so excited to hear all the amazing things she's seen and experienced.

My mood was instantly numbed into annoyance when the floor started to vibrate. "Baekhyun..." I muttered. I went to my window and watched as herds of people walked into my neighbor's house. I squinted and saw Baekhyun himself welcoming people in. He turned and looked straight up at me and raised his glass, taunting me. I closed my shades and grabbed my phone. Back when he first moved in, my sister, got Baekhyun's phone number and she sent it to me in case of an emergency while she was gone. But this time He's the only one who can stop all this noise.

Y/n: Baekhyun, can you please keep it down? I'm gonna go to bed soon.

Baekhyun: Sure. I'll just move my guests to the pool out back. Sweet dreams Y/n-ah

I rolled my eyes and climbed into bed. I read another chapter and went to sleep. Thankfully I had a pair of earplugs to block out the noise. It took a while, between the anxiousness to see my best friend again and Baekhyun being annoying, but eventually, I got to sleep.

The next day I got up with plenty of time to shower and get ready. I packed up my purse and headed out the door, locking it before I got into my car. My friend texted me, saying she'll see me soon and I smiled at my phone. When I looked up I caught Baekhyun's gaze. He was out on his front deck, shirtless and holding a cup of coffee. God, he was hot! I can't let him know that though; Especially since he already has plenty of girls fawning over him as it is. He raised his mug and mouthed "Good morning". I waved to him and drove away.

I recognized my friend's car when I pulled into the parking lot and parked right next to her. I walked into the cafe and she stood up when she saw me.

"Y/n! Hey~" She pulled me into her hands and I hugged her back. We both sat down in the booth and I couldn't help but stare. She was only away for a month, but she came back with a perfect tan and a new hairstyle.

"How was Machu Pichu? Tell me everything!" I was so excited to hear all of the amazing details and she definitely defied my expectations.  We ordered our coffee and lunch and the stories started pouring out.

"I met the most amazing people and the scenery was breath-taking." She went on and on about all of her wild adventures and a possible romance. "We met on my third day there. He was studying abroad at his college too, but he left a week after that and I didn't want to start a long distance relationship if I barely know the guy, you know? But enough about me. How was your month?"

Before I could even answer I looked over her shoulder at the front door and saw none other than Byun Baekhyun entering the room. My friend caught my gaze and turned around to see what I was looking at.

"Who's that? He's cute." He commented. I was caught off guard and looked down at my cup. "He's no one." I didn't want to draw any attention to myself, but with a beautiful friend like mine, it was a tall order.

"Y/n-ah. Always good to see you outside the neighborhood." Baekyun flashed his infectious smile and I couldn't help but smile back. "And you must be..."

"I'm Y/f/n." My friend said, finishing Baekhyun's sentence. He extended his hand and she took a hold of it, shaking his hand slowly.

"Nice to meet you, Y/f/n." The tension was cringe-worthy. I just wanted to dissolve into thin air. "Well, I won't keep you ladies, but if you're interested I'm having a get together at my house tonight."

"Of course you are..." I said under my breath. My friend looked at me and back at him before replying,"Sure. Thanks." Baekhyun took one more look in my direction and smiled cleverly.

As he walked away my friend looked back at me. "Y'n? You still there?" I was taken out of my daze and nodded, taking a sip of my drink.

"What do I even wear to a party like that?" She asked me.

"I think I have something."

That night Y/f/n came over and we got dressed. My sister left for work a few hours earlier, and as usual, she won't be back until late morning. My friend and I finished getting ready and headed next door. From the moment we walked in I was hypnotized. The whole atmosphere was otherworldly. Crowds of people were out dancing for socializing and his house was somehow bigger on the inside. I could feel the bass in my chest and the lights were dimmed except the ones with colored bulbs.

My friend grabbed my hand and she pointed to the other room. I nodded and we made our way to the bar area. We ordered a couple of drinks and none other than the womanizer himself sauntered over to us.

"Ladies! I'm glad you both came." I could hear the flirtation in Baekhyun’s voice. If only it was geared toward me. He looked straight at my friend and said, "You look great."

"Aww. Thank you. Y/n let me borrow something of hers, Thankfully." She replied.

"I'm gonna take a lap." I excused myself and left the situation before I became any more of a third wheel. I walked around the massive house and stopped when I reached a quiet area. I was still able to see my friend and Baekhyun, but they were too occupied to notice me.

"Hey.  Are you alone?" I heard a husky voice next to me and looked up to see a gorgeous guy gazing down at me. "Uh... Currently, yes. Technically no. I came with a friend, but she's with... the host."

"Baekhyun? uh-oh." He had a look of surprise on his face and I had to ask, "Why?"

"Well, if she's caught up in Baekhyun's charms already, you probably won't see her until tomorrow morning." My heart sank and I looked back over at the two of them smiling and laughing flirtatiously.

I shook off the thought and decided to test my chances with someone new. "What's your name?"

"Chanyeol. I'm a friend of Hyunnie." I smiled at his nickname for Baekhyun and introduced my self. "I'm Y/n, the friend of Hyunnie's victim." He laughed at my joke and I started feeling better. We talked for a while until my feet started to hurt from all the standing.

"Oh. We can go and sit somewhere if you'd prefer that." He offered. I nodded to him and he took my hand, leading me upstairs and down one of the halls.

"here." We sat on a little bench in front of one of the huge windows. The moon shined down on the side of Chanyeol's face and I started to swoon.

"So what made you come tonight? Have you ever been to a party like this?" He asked out of genuine curiosity. "No, I've never been to a party like this before. I really only came because my friend and I were invited."

"Wait. You live right next door and you just now got invited?"

"Yeah. My sister can be pretty protective of me and Baekhyun clearly only invited me because of my friend."

"How do you know? He always has a method to his madness. It just takes a while to see it all play out." He explained. I smiled at him and he continued. "I honestly wish he invited you sooner. That way I could really have someone to talk to like this." I started to feel warm when I saw his little dimple fade from his cheek. He got closer and closer before I realized what was happening. His lips pressed against mine and I melted at the warmth. His big hand rested on my thigh and I cupped his soft cheek, kissing him back. His hand moved from my thigh to my hip, pulling me closer to him. My other hand held the side of his neck.

"Wait." Chanyeol broke away and I looked at him, confused as to why. "Not like this. I like you, Y/n and I don't want you to think I'm the kind of guy who lours girls somewhere private, and-" I just had to stop him there. "I don't think you're 'that guy' at all. You're the only person here who actually talked to me and was interested in what I have to say. But I won't push you into anything." I held his hand and he smiled down at our hands.

"Thanks."

"Sure. Wanna walk me hone at least?" I asked. He looked me in the eye and agreed. We went back downstairs and walked through the maze of people. I looked over at my friend on the way out and signaled that I was leaving and she nodded. She was standing with some other guy and Baekhyun was nowhere to be found.

Chanyeol and I walked to my front door with our fingers intertwined. We lingered at the doormat for a while until he spoke. "Here, This way I know I can see you again." He handed me his phone and I put my number in. When I looked back up at him he leaned toward me and kissed my cheek. I smiled at him and he walked away; to his car I assume. I opened the door and made sure the stare key was in it's hiding place. I sent my friend a text, telling her where it was so she can get in once she's done with the party.

I laid in my bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Chanyeol and Baekhyun. Of course, Chanyeol is the nice guy who saved me from loneliness tonight, but is he really what I want? I've liked Baekhyun for a while, but he's a player, that's what he does! I kept thinking about it over and over until I overworked my brain and fell asleep.

Part 2

[tarysande]

Fic Update: Any Four Walls: Trap

Well, since it’s my birthday, you guys get treats for coming to my party. <3

Also on AO3

#

Trap

Garrus’ visor counted the time since the airlock doors had closed behind Shepard. When the team’s comms went dead, he chalked it up to the amount of interference the ship was giving off. Not surprising. Unpleasant, though. A lot could happen in 16 minutes and 46 seconds. And he hated being in the dark.

To keep himself from worrying,  he kept his gaze fixed on the sensor readouts, waiting for the inevitable. As he and Shepard had discussed, the whole damned thing screamed trap like Omega’s flashing neon signs pointed to bars and dancing asari. He just wasn’t sure where it would come from.

He was so plugged into the ship that he was already on his way to the QEC before Joker pinged him to let him know Liara was on the line.

“She doesn’t sound happy,” Joker added, unnecessarily.

No one who knew the girls had sounded anything like happy since they were taken, after all. Garrus swallowed his initial retort, thanked Joker for the head’s up, and hit the elevator’s controls again, harder, as if repetition and frustration could make the damn thing move any faster. He ignored the faint echo of ache in his chest and tried not to imagine the way the doctor would scowl at him if she knew.

Liara started talking even before her form shimmered to life, words tumbling over each other so rapidly he had to make her start over again three times. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes—a gesture borrowed, no doubt, from Shepard—and said with forced enunciation, “What is happening over there, Garrus? What is she thinking?”

The words still didn’t make sense. Panic began to gnaw at his gut, tenacious as a varren’s jaws clenched around a fat pyjak. “You know something I don’t, T’Soni? We lost contact the second she boarded that ship.”

Liara turned away from him slightly, fingers flying over a series of haptic interfaces he couldn’t see. She said, “This broadcast has hijacked emergency signals across the galaxy, Garrus, pinging from comm buoy to comm buoy, bypassing protocols. I’ve seen nothing like it since the early days of the Reaper invasion.”

Before he could start demanding answers instead of vague fear-mongering, his omni-tool pinged with Liara’s link.

“That is as close to live as I can manage across this much distance, and the turian Councilor does not want to know how many laws regarding appropriate use of data transmission I just broke sending it.”

Garrus hardly heard her. The angles and quality of the video were those of a decent security system. Black and white, but not grainy. The kind of footage he’d always appreciated when working at C-Sec, because facial recognition was easier when faces weren’t pixellated all to hell. Not cheap. Not amateur.

In this case, he almost wished for some interference.

His eyes tracked the images flashing before his eyes and though he recognized all the players—of course he did—he could make no sense of what they were doing. As he watched, a biotic explosion from Jack sent turian bodies flying into the air, all splayed limbs and awkward angles. Alenko’s powers kept them there. And Shepard—Shepard took them out, one perfect headshot at a time. Faces disappeared in unmistakable showers of greyed-out blood and bone and plate. One after another. No misses. No warning shots. No shots to disable instead of kill.

Though he could not actually hear it, he felt the report of the Widow like he was the one on the wrong end of it.

A shiver ran the length of his spine and this time the ache in his chest had very little to do with his recent brush with death. Sure, they’d had their good-natured competition over headshots, but that was back when the galaxy was swiftly going to hell and the forces shooting at them were very much aiming to kill.

Even then, he’d seen Shepard shoot out knees or shoulders when she could easily have taken the kill. He’d teased her for it, on those rare occasions he’d pulled ahead. She wasn’t big on killing when she didn’t have to. He’d never known her to be motivated by hatred or revenge.

This, though.

This was a massacre. Cold and clean and precise. Almost surgical.

The turian forces—if they could be given such an illustrious designation—wore armor predating the Reaper invasion and none carried weapons more dangerous than outdated pistols and the occasional assault rifle that had seen better days. The shots they managed to fire didn’t come close to penetrating the armor and shields of the squad raining death down on them.

Garrus knew turian expressions. These were not murderous. They were confused.

Terrified.

He knew, he knew Shepard was familiar enough with the anatomy of plates and mandibles and body language to see what he was seeing. Especially since she was looking down a scope. Zoomed in. Nowhere to hide.

Another head exploded. Another turian fell.

Over it all, a desperate turian voice—was it the voice of the woman Shepard had spoken with? He couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t be sure—subharmonics trembling with fear, whispered, “If you can hear this, if you can see this, please. Please, we need help. We are under attack. This is Matta Casarus of the trading vessel, Enixus. Please. We don’t have much time. We—Spirits, we think it’s Commander Shepard. She’s—oh, help us. Please. Please help us. We haven’t done anything wrong. We haven’t done anything wrong.”

Over and over and over.

Of course it was Commander Shepard.

The N7 emblem on her chest was unmistakable, after all.

Even he, who’d thought he’d seen every side of Shepard there was to see, didn’t recognize the cold, implacable expression in the eyes behind the glass of her helmet.

“Liara,” he said, “this isn’t—you know this isn’t Shepard. This isn’t her MO.”

Liara said nothing. The turian kept pleading for help. Garrus shook his head. “Liara.”

“Garrus, this looks—”

“I know how it looks. She wouldn’t—she was provoked. She had to have been provoked.”

Again Liara fell silent. He’d known her long enough to recognize the expression she wore as discomfort. Pain, even. “If this is about the children—”

“Of course it’s about the children!”

Her eyes pleaded with him. “The rest of the galaxy doesn’t know about the children, Garrus. To them, it looks as though…”

He exhaled heavily, crossing his arms over his chest because what he really wanted to do was hit something. Hard. Really hard. And he didn’t think it was smart to take his frustration out on the QEC. “As though the galaxy’s most recognizable hero has gone rogue.”

Liara nodded. “I could—I could attempt to cut the feed, but I fear it would only make the situation worse.”

“Shit,” he snarled. “This is the trap. Not a ship swinging out of deep space, guns blazing. Nothing that would allow her to come out on top, like she always does. This. Discrediting her. Destroying her.”

“Discrediting you both.” Liara worried at her bottom lip with her teeth and shook her head. “There are two Spectres at the heart of the destruction, and you’re the only Councilor aware of their movements. Either you sent them, or they have both gone rogue. The Council will want an explanation.”

“The Council will want a scapegoat, you mean.”

“You know they are still recovering from the damage Saren did to the reputation of the Spectres. If Shepard…”

She didn’t finish. She didn’t have to.

He bit down on his tongue. The pain was a focus. Something tangible. Something he could control.

“Who is she, Liara? Who has this kind of power? Not some two-bit trader, that’s for damned sure.”

“The Enixus is registered to a Matta Casarus, whose record is impeccable. She was with the turian military for eight years, regularly earning commendations of the highest order. She was given an honorable discharge to take over her father’s trading business when he was killed by pirates in 2180. She ran supplies during the Reaper war. According to her financials, she took losses while others were profiteering.”

He sighed. “A paragon of virtue, then. Wonderful. And?”

“And the woman Shepard spoke to is not Matta Casarus. I am certain of it.”

“I hear the ‘but’ loud and clear, Liara.”

“I do not know who she is. Forgive me, Garrus. I will continue my search, but—”

“I know,” he said. “By then it’ll be too late. Shepard’ll have killed the real Matta Casarus and her whole damn crew in front of an audience of trillions and anything we say afterward’ll look like a coverup. Keep looking. I’ll—crap. I have to stop this.”

“Are you certain that’s—”

He ended the communication before Liara could finish.

He connected to the flight deck. “Joker—”

“Already on the way, boss.”

“Listening in?”

Joker snorted. “Didn’t need to. Not like Liara ever calls with good news.”

“And you’re not going to try and stop me?”

“You could break both my legs by looking at ‘em the wrong way. No, thanks. You might have to go through the doctor, though. She’s parked herself in front of the airlock and she’s looking mutinous.”

Garrus wished he could laugh. He really did. Instead, he cut the line and started composing a message to the rest of the Council he feared would be utterly ineffectual.

Had to try, though.

He had to try.

[faggot-magnet]

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[imagineangryspacegrump-blog]

A Princess (Not Really) In Distress - PART 1

Prompt: Ye olde valiant knight, Leonard McCoy, goes on a quest to save a princess (not really) in distress. (For @yourtropegirl​‘s Star Trek Fairytale AU thing)                                                                                                                       

Warnings: Mostly crack!fic trash

Word Count: 2,925

A/n: This fic may or may not have been loosely based on the movie, Shrek. It kind of makes sense though, doesn't it? Grumpy, anti-social ogre? No? Ok. And that's right ladies and gentlemen, this is going to be more than one part. I'm thinking maybe 3-4 parts but I'm not 100% sure yet. 

---

"Do you think she'll be pretty?”

"Oh my God, can you be quiet for five seconds?"

Leonard pushed a tree branch out of his way and walked on. When he passed, he let go of the branch, which made it whip back and smack Jim in the face. Jim let out a yelp and fell back, which made Leonard smirk and turn back to the path.

By order of King Pike in Yorktown, he, the head knight, and Jim the court Jester were sent on a 'quest' to check out an old castle. Rumor has it, that a princess was locked in said castle, unable to escape because of the ferocious dragon that patrolled the land. Many people had tried to get to her, but no one had succeeded so far.

Leonard was confident he could be the one to accomplish this task. However, he didn't know what he'd do with the lady if he did succeed. She would probably expect him to sweep her off her feet, when he wasn't exactly planning on doing that. He had just split with his ex-wife so he wasn't exactly looking for a new love interest. The only reason he was really doing this, was for his self-image. Yeah, yeah, it was selfish, but that's how the society functioned these days.

Leonard had brought Jim solely for a distraction. Not for himself, but the supposed dragon. Jim was a court Jester, which meant he was born for laughs and entertainment. If Jim could distract the thing, Leonard could sneak past and try to find the princess. If things go South and Jim gets eaten... well, God rest his soul.

Jim bounced in front of Leonard and continued to hop around the knight as he continued on. Leonard was still trying to figure out how a grown man could have such a high energy level.

"How do you think the princess gets food? If she's not allowed to leave the palace, then she must run out of food sometime. And what about the whole death-like sleep thing? If she's sleeping like that, are you gonna kiss her to wake her up? And how hasn't the dragon killed her yet? Was it trained to be nice to her and only eat people who come to break her out? And-"

Leonard spun around and clamped a hand over the energetic man's mouth. "If you ask me one more question, I swear to any high power out there, I will personally hand you, deep fried on a silver platter over to the dragon myself. Now shut your damn trap, we're here."

Jim didn't seem to have even heard Leonard's threat, because he ran quickly to a bush and peeked over. Leonard joined him and looked at the building.

You would expect a castle made of crumbling stone with a moat of hot lava surrounding it and the only way to the castle is an old, rope bridge. But it was actually the opposite. It looked like a quaint castle on steroids, based on the large size. The grass around it was green and soft, well taken care of. There were vines crawling up one side of the building, and all of the necessities for a small farm was scattered along the outside.

"This doesn't really look like dragon lair material, Leo."

Leonard grit his teeth. "Don't call me that. And no, it doesn't. This must be some sort of sick trick. There's no way a castle that's famed for it's high casualty rate is this... country-side thing. This must be someone's house. C'mon, let's go before someone see's us."

When Leonard looked to where the Jester should have been, he was met with empty space. Jim was practically skipping to the front door of the castle.

"What. Are. You. DOING?! Get back here!"

Jim shook his head and stepped up onto the porch. "Like you said, there's no way a dragon could fit in here, so there's no harm in checking it out! The people living here are probably nice!"

Leonard sighed angrily before cautiously emerging from the bush. When he joined Jim on the steps, Jim raised a hand to knock on the door. When Jim hit his knuckles against the door, it pushed the door open like it had never been closed in the first place.

It slowly crept open, revealing the dark interior of the house that completely contrasted with the happy outside. It was cold, and smelled like dust, mildew, and smoke. There was no indication that someone had opened the door for them, so it made the whole deal even worse.

Jim seemed to have sensed his mistake on approaching the house, and slowly started to slink away. Leonard grabbed the back of his shirt before he could leave and pulled him back.

"This was your idea, so you're gonna stay. Go on. Go inside."

Jim side stepped so the door was completely open for Leonard, and took a deep bow, gesturing to the door.

"Ladies first."

Leonard scowled and grabbed Jim's collar again, shoving him through the opening of the door, following after him.

The large room they stepped into was dark and it was hard to see anything at all. Through the light that was seeping through the door and a few of the scattered, grime caked windows, dust particles were seen floating harmlessly through the air. Once the pair's eyes started to adjust, they could scope out the rest of the rooms. The surrounding rooms were old and rustic looking. If Leonard had been here any other time, when the house was in it's prime, he would have liked the place.

As they continued through the musty castle, Jim started to walk closely behind Leonard, hiding behind him. Jim would jump at the slightest noise, which would in turn, make Leonard jump, and then make Leonard angry.

"Can you stop jumping at the slightest noise? There's nothing here-"

Leonard was cut off by a very loud cracking sound when he stepped into a new room. Looking down slowly, he saw that his boot-covered foot had stepped on something.

A human skull to be exact.

They had both nearly yelped in surprise but kept it contained so they wouldn't alert to anyone of their presence.

The room they had found themselves in was similar to a lounging room. There was a bookshelf, a soft looking couch, and multiple chairs. And bones.

Lots and lots of bones.

It was odd though. The bones weren't in one big heap or all over the floor. It looked like the 'dragon' or whatever had killed all those people, had put them in neat, separate piles. There was a pile of ribs, femurs, phalanges, scapulas, and any kind of bone in the human body. The skull that Leonard had stepped on must've fallen from its neat pile.

"You should not be here."

The two men jumped 10 feet into the air, and spun around to meet the owner of the smooth voice.

A man stood there, tall and stiff. It was almost as if someone had welded iron rods to his spine because he stood as rigid as a pole. He had an unusual bowl cut, and he wore a perfectly pressed tux that had a dark red pocket square peeking from the breast pocket. Leonard could've sworn there were small blood droplets on his white dress shirt.

He had pointed ears and slit pupils that made him look fierce, even with his otherwise passive aura. There was something pressed tightly to his back but at the angle they were placed, it prevented them from seeing what it was.

"Who are you?" Leonard took charge, knowing Jim wouldn't.

The man tilted his head. "I am called Spock. I was given the task to protect this palace and all it's inhabitants by any means necessary. And it seems you're trespassing on this ground, and I need to dispose of you."

The things pressed to his back unraveled, presenting leathery wings. He seemed to be growling from somewhere deep in his throat. Before the bright orange color accumulating in his chest that Leonard could only assume was a brewing flame, he shoved Jim forward.

"But this young man right here knows a few tricks that you might like to see. If you kill us, you'll never be able to witness it's... greatness."

Spock's growling diminished, as did the flame, but his wings stayed put in a defensive manner.

"What kind of tricks are you preferring to?"

Jim was surprisingly calm, completely opposite of the scared man Leonard witnessed a few minutes ago. It must've been his inner Jester. Born to perform.

"I can do all sorts of things! Wait... hold on... is that?" Jim walked right up to the man.

The jester reached forward and seemingly grabbed something in the man's ear. Even Leonard was impressed when Jim started to 'pull' a tibia out Spock's cranium.

"Whoa! No wonder you didn't answer when we knocked. You couldn't hear us! How'd you get this lodged in there!" Jim tossed the long bone somewhere in the room.

Leonard could tell Spock was forcing his amazement down deep inside, but his nearly sparkling eyes gave it away.

"Now about the tricks." Jim reached into his mouth, yes his mouth, and pulled out a full deck of cards, which made Spock's eyes widen exponentially. "I can do all sorts of things, but card tricks are my specialty."

He shuffled the deck in the air, the cards stacking neatly together. Jim fanned the cards out, and then pulled them back together. He set the deck face down on one of his hands, waved his free hand over the deck, snapped, and the cards seemed to have disappeared. Jim made the cards reappear with another snap of his fingers.

"Fascinating." The leathery wings put themselves back into their original position, and Spock focused all of his attention on the moving cards in Jim's hands.

Leonard took his opportunity to slowly slink out of the room, careful not to step on any bones this time. As soon as he was out of sight, Leonard silently look off and up a set of stairs. Top of the highest tower, right?

The stairs ended relatively quickly, so he had to stroll through another hallway that had a staircase at the opposite end. Leonard started to run but skidded to a halt when he heard snoring coming from under a door.

It was a big wooden door, and there was light coming from the small crack at the bottom. Were there more than two people in the building?

Looking down the hall to make sure no one was following him, he slowly crept to the door and twisted the knob, pushing the door open. He flinched when it made a very loud whining noise so he slipped inside when there was enough room for him to do so.

Upon glancing around the room, he found it to be a very large library. The light was coming from tall windows on the far side of the room. There were a few small desks scattered around the room, all piled high with books, papers, quills, and ink. The room was beautiful in it's own, cluttered way.

He heard the snoring again and tracked it to a very large heap of pillows and blankets. It was hard to see the person, but there was someone on the pillows, a woman from the looks of it.

Limbs flared out, face smashed into a pillow, and snoring with a small hint of drool on the chin. Maybe she was a maid? Leonard cautiously reached down and shook her shoulder.

You, on the other hand, made an extremely sexy snorting noise and jolted awake. It took you a minute to get your bearings straight, but when you did, you were in for a mild surprise.

The only person you had seen for years was your helpful butler/acquaintance, Spock. Yeah, he was a little different, but he was just doing his job. So seeing a handsome new man, clad in a slimming royal get-up, you couldn't help but stare.

"Umm, excuse me. Do you know about any princesses that may live around here?  Maybe in this castle?"

You propped your head up on your hand and thought. "Who's askin'?"

The man started to look angry and bit the inside of his cheek. "The royal guard. Now where is she?"

You gestured to yourself in all your glory. "You're lookin' at her, babe."

The man did a double take and slowly raked his eyes down your body. Your outfit was a tad bit revealing, since your outfit really just consisted of short shorts and a tank top. He turned a shade darker when he noticed that you had caught him in the act.

"Well... you don't exactly look like a princess. It's just the honest truth. Now, I need you to come with me Your Highness."

Your witty attitude dissolved and you shot to your feet, taking a step away from him. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Come with you? I don't think so, stranger. For your information, I actually enjoy it here. Yeah, I can't go outside but this is my home. Don't think I'm just gonna up and leave because this random... suspiciously attractive, royal goon pops up on my doorstep. If you leave now, I'll call Spock off and you can leave in one piece. Don't think for a second, I'm not going to go down without a fight."

A loud, shrill, screech echoed through the halls, making you and the man you still didn't know the name of, look towards the large doors. At your distraction, Leonard swooped down and grabbed your legs, hefting you up and throwing you over his shoulder. Once he was sure he had a secure hold on you, he ran out of the room, you in tow.

"Hey! Put me down you barbarian! I'm going to call the authorities!"

"I am the authorities, sweetheart." He was breathing heavily, but continued to run. You looked up when you heard footsteps following and saw a blond man in a funny looking outfit running with you and the knight. Spock skidded around the corner, looking furious, and followed.

"Jim, do the smoke thing!"

The blond man you assumed was Jim took a peek behind at the raging Spock and squeaked. "What smoke thing?"

You were nearly at the front door. "The smoke thing you do to disappear! Use it as a distraction."

A light bulb appeared over Jim's head and he reached into his jacket, producing three round ball-like things. He juggled them a few times, then shot all three out, two hitting walls and the other hitting the ceiling.

Instantly, the things exploded, turning into red smoke that engulfed the hall in no time. It blinded everyone, but Jim seemed to know how to move through it. You could hear Spock running into things in confusion as Jim pushed the man you were slung over, to the door.

You had to close your eyes when the sun hit them. Being in a dark castle your whole life excluded direct sunlight for the most part. Your abdomen was starting to bruise from the man's shoulder.

When your eyes finally adjusted, the three of you were already deep in the woods, your home and Spock alike, were nowhere in sight. You were suddenly dropped and set inside a small cave a large tree made with its roots. It had probably been a den for an animal at some point. It was big, but hidden well.

It was large enough for the three of you, but it was a very tight fit. Your 'rescuer' held you to him, your back against his chest, and covered your mouth with his hand. You squirmed, but it did nothing to loosen his grip.

Loud wing beats were heard overhead, and the two men fell silent, while you tried to make as much noise as you could, everything muffled by the knight's hand. You could hear Spock calling your name, and he flew by quickly, his calls slowly diminishing.

There was silence for a long half hour before the man holding you captive removed his hand from your mouth. When you tried escaping again, he held you close. You knew calling for help would do nothing, since Spock was probably long gone by now.

"Kidnapping is a felony. I'm going to get you sentenced to 20 years in prison if you don't let me go this instant."

You felt the man's chest move as he chuckled. "This isn't technically kidnapping. I kindly told you to come with me, saved you from a man-eating monster, and I have no intention to hurt you myself. Also, this mission was a direct order from the king, and he's the one that makes the rules."

Crossing your arms over your chest, you huffed, which made Jim smile.

"We'll stay here for the night, then head for the kingdom tomorrow morning. Better get comfortable with us sweetheart, 'cause we have a long journey ahead."

You refused to say anything, giving him the silent treatment. He shifted back against the dirt wall to be more comfortable, dragging you with him.

"Well, the name's Leonard McCoy, and this is James Kirk. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Acquaintance is too strong of a word... and my name's Y/n if you must know."

The cave went silent and it stayed that way for the rest of the evening. It was going to be a long night.

---

Tags: @outside-the-government @feelmyroarrrr @hellhoundsandunicorns @captian-hannah-kirk

[eagle-plumbing-services]

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[viralhottopics]

How technology gets us hooked

The Long Read: From a young age, humans love to press buttons that light up and make a noise. The thrill of positive feedback lies at the heart of addiction to gambling, games, and social media

Not long ago, I stepped into a lift on the 18th floor of a tall building in New York City. A young woman inside the lift was looking down at the top of her toddlers head with embarrassment as he looked at me and grinned. When I turned to push the ground-floor button, I saw that every button had already been pushed. Kids love pushing buttons, but they only push every button when the buttons light up. From a young age, humans are driven to learn, and learning involves getting as much feedback as possible from the immediate environment. The toddler who shared my elevator was grinning because feedback in the form of lights or sounds or any change in the state of the world is pleasurable.

But this quest for feedback doesnt end with childhood. In 2012, an ad agency in Belgium produced an outdoor campaign for a TV channel that quickly went viral. The campaigns producers placed a big red button on a pedestal in a quaint square in a sleepy town in Flanders. A big arrow hung above the button with a simple instruction: Push to add drama. You can see the glint in each persons eye as he or she approaches the button the same glint that came just before the toddler in my elevator raked his tiny hand across the panel of buttons.

Psychologists have long tried to understand how animals respond to different forms of feedback. In 1971, a psychologist named Michael Zeiler sat in his lab across from three hungry white carneaux pigeons. At this stage, the research programme focused on rats and pigeons, but it had lofty aims. Could the behaviour of lower-order animals teach governments how to encourage charity and discourage crime? Could entrepreneurs inspire overworked shift workers to find new meaning in their jobs? Could parents learn how to shape perfect children?

Before Zeiler could change the world, he had to work out the best way to deliver rewards. One option was to reward every desirable behaviour. Another was to reward those same desirable behaviours on an unpredictable schedule, creating some of the mystery that encourages people to buy lottery tickets. The pigeons had been raised in the lab, so they knew the drill. Each one waddled up to a small button and pecked persistently, hoping that the button would release a tray of Purina pigeon pellets. During some trials, Zeiler would programme the button so it delivered food every time the pigeons pecked; during others, he programmed the button so it delivered food only some of the time. Sometimes the pigeons would peck in vain, the button would turn red, and they would receive nothing.

When I first learned about Zeilers work, I expected the consistent schedule to work best. But thats not what happened at all. The results werent even close: the pigeons pecked almost twice as often when the reward wasnt guaranteed. Their brains, it turned out, were releasing far more dopamine when the reward was unexpected than when it was predictable. Zeiler had documented an important fact about positive feedback: that less is often more. His pigeons were drawn to the mystery of mixed feedback just as humans are attracted to the uncertainty of gambling.

Decades after Zeiler published his results, in 2012, a team of Facebook web developers prepared to unleash a similar feedback experiment on hundreds of millions of humans. The site already had 200 million users at the time a number that would triple over the next three years. The experiment took the form of a deceptively simple new feature called a like button.

Its hard to exaggerate how much the like button changed the psychology of Facebook use. What had begun as a passive way to track your friends lives was now deeply interactive, and with exactly the sort of unpredictable feedback that motivated Zeilers pigeons. Users were gambling every time they shared a photo, web link or status update. A post with zero likes wasnt just privately painful, but also a kind of public condemnation: either you didnt have enough online friends, or, worse still, your online friends werent impressed. Like pigeons, were more driven to seek feedback when it isnt guaranteed. Facebook was the first major social networking force to introduce the like button, but others now have similar functions. You can like and repost tweets on Twitter, pictures on Instagram, posts on Google+, columns on LinkedIn, and videos on YouTube.

The act of liking became the subject of etiquette debates. What did it mean to refrain from liking a friends post? If you liked every third post, was that an implicit condemnation of the other posts? Liking became a form of basic social support the online equivalent of laughing at a friends joke in public.

Web developer Rameet Chawla developed an app as a marketing exercise, but also a social experiment, to uncover the effect of the like button. When he launched it, Chawla posted this introduction on its homepage: People are addicted. We experience withdrawals. We are so driven by this drug, getting just one hit elicits truly peculiar reactions. Im talking about likes. Theyve inconspicuously emerged as the first digital drug to dominate our culture.

Chawlas app, called Lovematically, was designed to automatically like every picture that rolled through its users newsfeeds. It wasnt even necessary to impress them any more; any old post was good enough to inspire a like. Apart from enjoying the warm glow that comes from spreading good cheer, Chawla for the first three months, the apps only user also found that people reciprocated. They liked more of his photos, and he attracted an average of 30 new followers a day, a total of almost 3,000 followers during the trial period. On Valentines Day 2014, Chawla allowed 5,000 Instagram users to download a beta version of the app. After only two hours, Instagram shut down Lovematically for violating the social networks terms of use.

I knew way before launching it that it would get shut down by Instagram, Chawla said. Using drug terminology, you know, Instagram is the dealer and Im the new guy in the market giving away the drug for free.

Chawla was surprised, though, that it happened so quickly. Hed hoped for at least a week of use, but Instagram pounced immediately.

When I moved to the United States for postgraduate studies in 2004, online entertainment was limited. These were the days before Instagram, Twitter, and YouTube and Facebook was limited to students at Harvard. One evening, I stumbled on a game called Sign of the Zodiac (Zodiac for short) that demanded very little mental energy.

Zodiac was a simple online slot machine, much like the actual slot machines in casinos: you decided how much to wager, lazily clicked a button over and over again, and watched as the machine spat out wins and losses. At first, I played to relieve the stress of long days filled with too much thinking, but the brief ding that followed each small win, and the longer melody that followed each major win, hooked me fast. Eventually screenshots of the game would intrude on my day. Id picture five pink scorpions lining up for the games highest jackpot, followed by the jackpot melody that I can still conjure today. I had a minor behavioural addiction, and these were the sensory hangovers of the random, unpredictable feedback that followed each win.

My Zodiac addiction wasnt unusual. For 13 years, Natasha Dow Schll, a cultural anthropologist, studied gamblers and the machines that hook them. She collected descriptions of slot machines from gambling experts and current and former addicts, which included the following: Slots are the crack cocaine of gambling electronic morphine … the most virulent strain of gambling in the history of man Slots are the premier addiction delivery device.

These are sensationalised descriptions, but they capture how easily people become hooked on slot-machine gambling. I can relate, because I became addicted to a slots game that wasnt even doling out real money. The reinforcing sound of a win after the silence of several losses was enough for me.

In the US, banks are not allowed to handle online gambling winnings, which makes online gambling practically illegal. Very few companies are willing to fight the system, and the ones that do are quickly defeated. That sounds like a good thing, but free and legal games such as Sign of the Zodiac can also be dangerous. At casinos, the deck is stacked heavily against the player; on average the house has to win. But the house doesnt have to win in a game without money.

As David Goldhill, the chief executive officer of the Game Show Network, which also produces many online games, told me: Because were not restricted by having to pay real winnings, we can pay out $120 for every $100 played. No land-based casino could do that for more than a week without going out of business. As a result, the game can continue forever because the player never runs out of chips. I played Sign of the Zodiac for four years and rarely had to start a new game. I won roughly 95% of the time. The game only ended when I had to eat or sleep or attend class in the morning. And sometimes it didnt even end then.

Casinos win most of the time, but they have a clever way of convincing gamblers that the outcomes are reversed. Early slot machines were incredibly simple devices: the player pulled the machines arm to spin its three mechanical reels. If the centre of the reels displayed two or more of the same symbol when they stopped spinning, the player won a certain number of coins or credits. Today, slot machines allow gamblers to play multiple lines. Every time you play, youre more likely to win on at least one line, and the machine will celebrate with you by flashing bright lights and playing catchy tunes. If you play 15 lines, and you win on two of the lines, you make a net loss, and yet you enjoy the positive feedback that follows a win a type of win that Schll and other gambling experts call a loss disguised as a win.

Losses disguised as wins only matter because players dont classify them as losses they classify them as wins. This is what makes modern slot machines and modern casinos so dangerous. Like the little boy who hit every button in my lift, adults never really grow out of the thrill of attractive lights and sounds. If our brains convince us that were winning even when were actually losing, it becomes almost impossible to muster the self-control to stop playing.

Every time you play a slot machine it will celebrate with you by flashing bright lights and playing catchy tunes Photograph: imageBROKER/Rex/Shutterstock

The success of slot machines is measured by time on device. Since most players lose more money the longer they play, time on device is a useful proxy for profitability. Video-game designers use a similar measure, which captures how engaging and enjoyable their games are. The difference between casinos and video games is that many game designers are more concerned with making their games fun than with making buckets of money. Bennett Foddy, who teaches game design at New York Universitys Game Center, has created a number of successful free-to-play games, but each was a labour of love rather than a money-making vehicle.

Video games are governed by microscopic rules, Foddy says. When your mouse cursor moves over a particular box, text will pop up, or a sound will play. Designers use this sort of micro-feedback to keep players more engaged and more hooked in.

A game must obey these microscopic rules, because gamers are likely to stop playing a game that doesnt deliver a steady dose of small rewards that make sense given the games rules. Those rewards can be as subtle as a ding sound or a white flash whenever a character moves over a particular square. Those bits of micro-feedback need to follow the act almost immediately, because if theres a tight pairing in time between when I act and when something happens, then Ill think I was causing it.

The game Candy Crush Saga is a prime example. At its peak in 2013, the game generated more than $600,000 in revenue per day. To date, its developer, King, has earned around $2.5 billion from the game. Somewhere between half a billion and a billion people have downloaded Candy Crush Saga on their smartphones or through Facebook. Most of those players are women, which is unusual for a blockbuster.

Its hard to understand the games colossal success when you see how straightforward it is. Players aim to create lines of three or more of the same candy by swiping candies left, right, up, and down. Candies are crushed they disappear when you form these matching lines, and the candies above them drop down to take their place. The game ends when the screen fills with candies that cannot be matched. Foddy told me that it wasnt the rules that made the game a success it was juice. Juice refers to the games surface feedback. It isnt essential to the game, but its essential to the games success. Without juice, the game loses its charm.

Novice game designers often forget to add juice, Foddy said. If a character in your game runs through the grass, the grass should bend as he runs through it. It tells you that the grass is real and that the character and grass are in the same world. When you form a line in Candy Crush Saga, a reinforcing sound plays, the score associated with that line flashes brightly, and sometimes you hear words of praise intoned by a hidden, deep-voiced narrator.

Juice amplifies feedback, but its also designed to unite the real world and the gaming world. The most powerful vehicle for juice must surely be virtual reality (VR) technology, which is still in its infancy. VR places the user in an immersive environment, which the user navigates as she might the real world. Advanced VR also introduces multisensory feedback, including touch, hearing and smell.

In a podcast last year, the author and sports columnist Bill Simmons spoke to billionaire investor Chris Sacca, an early Google employee and Twitter investor, about his experience with VR. Im afraid for my kids, a little bit, Simmons said. I do wonder if this VR world you dive into is almost superior to the actual world youre in. Instead of having human interactions, I can just go into this VR world and do VR things and thats gonna be my life.

Sacca shared Simmons concerns. One of the things thats interesting about technology is that the improvement in resolution and sound modelling and responsiveness is outpacing our own physiological development, Sacca said. You can watch some early videos where you are on top of a skyscraper, and your body will not let you step forward. Your body is convinced that that is the side of the skyscraper. Thats not even a super immersive VR platform. So we have some crazy days ahead of us.

Until recently, most people thought of VR as a tool for gaming, but that changed when Facebook acquired Oculus VR for $2bn in 2014. Facebooks Mark Zuckerberg had big ideas for the Oculus Rift gaming headset that went far beyond games. This is just the start, Zuckerberg said. After games, were going to make Oculus a platform for many other experiences. Imagine enjoying a court-side seat at a game, studying in a classroom of students and teachers all over the world or consulting with a doctor face-to-face just by putting goggles in your home. VR no longer dwelled on the fringes. One day, we believe this kind of immersive, augmented reality will become a part of daily life for billions of people, said Zuckerberg.

In October 2015, the New York Times shipped a small cardboard VR viewer with its Sunday paper. Paired with a smartphone, the Google Cardboard viewer streamed VR content, including documentaries on North Korea, Syrian refugees, and a vigil following the Paris terror attacks. Instead of sitting through 45 seconds on the news of someone walking around and explaining how terrible it is, you are actively becoming a participant in the story that you are viewing, said Christian Stephen, a producer of one of the VR documentaries.

Despite the promise of VR, it also poses great risks. Jeremy Bailenson, a professor of communication at Stanfords Virtual Reality Interaction Lab, worries that the Oculus Rift will damage how people interact with the world. Am I terrified of the world where anyone can create really horrible experiences? Yes, it does worry me. I worry what happens when a violent video game feels like murder. And when pornography feels like sex. How does that change the way humans interact, function as a society?

When it matures, VR will allow us to spend time with anyone in any location doing whatever we like for as long as we like. That sort of boundless pleasure sounds wonderful, but it has the capacity to devalue face-to-face interactions. Why live in the real world with real, flawed people when you can live in a perfect world that feels just as real? Wielded by game designers, it might prove to be a vehicle for the latest in a series of escalating behavioural addictions.

Some experiences are designed to be addictive for the sake of ensnaring hapless consumers, but others happen to be addictive though they are primarily designed to be fun or engaging. The line that separates these is very thin; to a large extent the difference rests on the intention of the designer.

When Nintendos superstar game designer Shigeru Miyamoto created Super Mario Bros, his primary aim was to make a game that he himself enjoyed playing. Thats the point, he said, not to make something sell, something very popular, but to love something, and make something that we creators can love. Its the very core feeling we should have in making games.

When you compare Super Mario Bros regularly voted by game designers as one of the greatest games ever to others on the market, it is easy to recognise the difference in intention.

Adam Saltsman, who produced an acclaimed indie game called Canabalt in 2009, has written extensively about the ethics of game design. Many of the predatory games of the past five years use whats known as an energy system, Saltsman said. Youre allowed to play the game for five minutes, and then you artificially run out of stuff to do. The game will send you an email in, say, four hours when you can start playing again. I told Saltsman that the system sounded pretty good to me it forces gamers to take breaks and encourages kids to do their homework between gaming sessions. But thats where the predatory part comes in.

Super Mario Run was primarily designed by its creator, Shigeru Miyamoto, to be a game he enjoyed playing Photograph: PR

According to Saltsman: Game designers began to realise that players would pay $1 to shorten the wait time, or to increase the amount of energy their avatar would have once the four-hour rest period had passed. I came across this predatory device when playing a game called Trivia Crack. If you give the wrong answer several times, you run out of lives, and a dialogue screen gives you a choice: wait for an hour for more lives, or pay 99 cents to continue immediately. Many games hide these down-the-line charges. Theyre free, at first, but later you are forced to pay in-game fees to continue.

If you are minutes or even hours deep into the game, the last thing you want to do is admit defeat. You have so much to lose, and your aversion to that sense of loss compels you to feed the machine just one more time, over and over again. You start playing because you want to have fun, but you continue playing because you want to avoid feeling unhappy.

A game in which you always win is boring. It sounds appealing but it gets old fast. To some extent we all need losses and difficulties and challenges, because without them the thrill of success weakens gradually with each new victory. The hardship of the challenge is far more compelling than knowing you are going to succeed. This sense of hardship is an ingredient in many addictive experiences, including one of the most addictive games of all time: Tetris.

In 1984, Alexey Pajitnov was working at a computer lab at the Russian Academy of Science in Moscow. Many of the labs scientists worked on side projects, and Pajitnov began working on a video game. Pajitnov worked on Tetris for much longer than he planned because he couldnt stop playing the game. Eventually Pajitnov allowed his friends at the Academy of Science to play the game. Everyone who touched the game couldnt stop playing either.

His best friend, Vladimir Pokhilko, a former psychologist, remembered taking the game to his lab at the Moscow Medical Institute. Everybody stopped working. So I deleted it from every computer. Everyone went back to work, until a new version appeared in the lab.

Alexey Pajitnov, the inventor of Tetris Photograph: Sipa Press / Rex Features

Tetris spread from the Academy of Science to the rest of Moscow, and then on to the rest of Russia and eastern Europe. Two years later, in 1986, the game reached the west, but its big break came in 1991, when Nintendo signed a deal with Pajitnov. Every Game Boy would come with a free game cartridge that contained a redesigned version of Tetris.

That year I saved up and ultimately bought a Game Boy, which is how I came to play Tetris for the first time. It wasnt as glitzy as some of my other favourites, but I played for hours at a time. Nintendo was smart to include the game with their new portable console, because it was easy to learn and very difficult to abandon. I assumed that I would grow tired of Tetris, but sometimes I still play the game today, more than 25 years later. It has longevity because it grows with you. Its easy at first, but as your skills improve, the game gets more difficult. The pieces fall from the top of the screen more quickly, and you have less time to react than you did when you were a novice.

This escalation of difficulty is a critical hook that keeps the game engaging long after you have mastered its basic moves. Twenty-five years ago, a psychiatrist named Richard Haier showed that this progression is pleasurable because your brain becomes more efficient as you improve. Haier decided to watch as people mastered a video game, though he knew little about the cutting-edge world of gaming. In 1991 no one had heard of Tetris, he said in an interview a few years later. I went to the computer store to see what they had and the guy said, Here try this. Its just come in. Tetris was the perfect game, it was simple to learn, you had to practise to get good, and there was a good learning curve.

Haier bought some copies of Tetris for his lab and watched as his experimental subjects played the game. He did find neurological changes with experience parts of the brain thickened and brain activity declined, suggesting experts brains worked more efficiently but more relevant here, he found that his subjects relished playing the game. They signed up to play for 45 minutes a day, five days a week, for up to eight weeks. They came for the experiment (and the cash payment that came with participating), but stayed for the game.

One satisfying feature of the game is the sense that you are building something your efforts produce a pleasing tower of coloured bricks. You have the chaos coming as random pieces, and your job is to put them in order. The game allows you the brief thrill of seeing your completed lines flash before they disappear, leaving only your mistakes. So you begin again, and try to complete another line as the game speeds up and your fingers are forced to dance across the controls more quickly.

Mikhail Kulagin, Pajitnovs friend and a fellow programmer, remembers feeling a drive to fix his mistakes. Tetris is a game with a very strong negative motivation. You never see what you have done very well, and your mistakes are seen on the screen. You always want to correct them.

The sense of creating something that requires labour and effort and expertise is a major force behind addictive acts that might otherwise lose their sheen over time. It also highlights an insidious difference between substance addiction and behavioural addiction: where substance addictions are nakedly destructive, many behavioural addictions are quietly destructive acts wrapped in cloaks of creation. The illusion of progress will sustain you as you achieve high scores or acquire more followers or improve your skills, and so, if you want to stop, youll struggle ever harder against the drive to grow.

Some designers are very much against infinite format games, like Tetris, said Foddy, because theyre an abuse of a weakness in peoples motivational structures they wont be able to stop.

Humans find the sweet spot sandwiched between too easy and too difficult irresistible. Its the land of just-challenging-enough computer games, financial targets, work ambitions, social media objectives and fitness goals. It is in this sweet spot where the need to stop crumbles before obsessive goal-setting that addictive experiences live.

This is an adapted extract of Irresistible by Adam Alter, published on 2 March by The Bodley Head in the UK and Penguin Press in the US on 7 March

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