#literally looked on the first results on google for some of these

[kxsagi]

aged up blue lock men of your choice where they already perfected their skills in every aspect with their girlfriend who wants to try soccer for the first time so the blue lock men jokingly tried to show off their signature move and then reader thinking he might be asking her to replicate it, did exactly that except they didn't expected their gf to execute it perfectly (it took them years, it took her a glance)

“𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐫”

a/n: the header is everything

ft. itoshi rin, itoshi sae, isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, bachira meguru, kaiser michael, shidou ryusei, karasu tabito, mikage reo, niko ikki

itoshi rin

he was just trying to be funny, okay? 

you'd asked him to teach you how to play, and he just... showed off a bit. a simple top-corner shot – full sprint, perfect form, sharp angle. you clapped. 

“so you want me to do that?” 

he snorted. “no, not unless you’re secretly a prodigy or something.” 

but then you jog up. barely even take a second to aim. and the ball swerves – a perfect curve into the same damn top corner. 

he just stands there. arms crossed. blinking. 

“… did you google my entire playstyle last night?” 

you: “no?” 

rin: “are you possessed?” 

he’s so irrationally offended, but also stunned and a little in love because what do you MEAN you just felt like it???

itoshi sae

you ask for help and he stretches dramatically like he’s being forced to tutor a child. 

“fine. observe a prodigy.” 

he lines up, slow-walks to the ball like a diva, and hits one of those cheeky no-look chips into the goal. smirks.  

“okay, now you.” 

you mimic everything – down to the posture, the lazy half-step, and then bam, the same result. ball lands in the net with that same crisp curve. 

“… huh.” 

he walks up to you and pokes you in the forehead. 

“how did that come from you?” 

you stick your tongue out. “you said observe a prodigy, right?” 

he’s lowkey smiling the entire time and won’t admit it. 

“okay, whatever, prodigy #2. try dribbling next, i bet you suck at that.” (he’s bluffing. he knows you’re about to humble him again.)

isagi yoichi

you just wanted a basic lesson. but your sweet boyfriend enters meta vision. 

“okay, okay, watch this. it’s my direct shot. this took me years, okay?” 

he explains angles. timing. leg strength. strategy. he’s so passionate you almost feel bad. 

until you try it. 

and the ball flies – same angle, same power, right into the net. 

he’s speechless. like, “did you just… wait what???” 

you: “was that it?” 

him: “was that it?? LOVE, THAT TOOK ME YEARS OF DEVASTATION AND CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT.” 

he's so happy and offended all at once, like this is not how shonen arcs work 😭

but he also makes you recreate it ten more times while filming it for proof. his screensaver is now you landing a direct shot. 

nagi seishiro

this man literally yawns before showing you his “signature” trap-and-volley. it’s so clean it looks fake. 

“alright, try it. but it’s kinda hard.” 

you look at him. “you mean like this?” 

and you trap it mid-air and volley it in one fluid motion. 

he blinks. 

“whoa.” 

you: “was that right?” 

him: “um, i think you just stole my whole flow.” 

nagi’s not mad tho. he’s excited. now he has someone to do lazy genius duos with. 

he immediately suggests skipping the rest of practice and just going pro together. 

bachira meguru 

he’s full of sparkles and spins the ball on his finger before juggling it in a zig-zag pattern across the field like a circus act. 

“okay cutie, your turn, but don’t stress if it’s messy the first ten years.” 

you blink. “you want me to do that?” 

him: “LOL nooo… unless???” 

you try it. and by some miracle or muscle memory from dance or gymnastics or whatever divine chaos lives in your body, you nail the dribble. 

he screeches. 

like full volume. picks you up and spins you like a helicopter. 

“you’re possessed by a soccer god!!! teach me!!!” 

he’s immediately calling you his monster twin and demands matching cleats and jersey numbers. 

training is now just the two of you goofing around and inventing new flashy combos. 

kaiser michael

he was only demonstrating. not asking you to compete. 

“watch and learn, liebling,” he says, tossing you a wink. 

then he pulls off his signature kaiser impact like it’s casual. 

you clap. “so… you want me to do that?” 

“obviously not. unless you want to destroy your feet.” 

you attempt it anyway. 

and somehow, your shot is smoother. it hits the net harder. and you land with zero effort. 

kaiser’s jaw is on the floor. 

“did you… did you just out-kaiser me?” 

you blink innocently. “i thought i was just copying?” 

he is in his villain arc. he stares off dramatically and mutters “she’s my greatest rival” under his breath. 

but he’s also holding your hand the entire walk home like you just saved his life. 

shidou ryusei

“alright baby, this one’s hot.” 

he launches himself into a wild, mid-air scissor kick like an absolute maniac. 

lands on his feet, smirks, and flexes. 

“that was sexy, right?” 

you raise an eyebrow. “i can try.” 

he laughs. laughs. “what are you gonna do, cartwheel and break your nose?” 

and then you scissor kick it perfectly. 

not only that, you somehow make it look graceful. 

he’s silent. 

then bursts into laughter and tackles you into the grass. 

“BROOOO you’re cracked!!! marry me again!!!” 

he now insists on being your hype man every single time you breathe near a soccer ball. 

“watch out, my girl’s got hops and precision. she’s a menace.” 

karasu tabito

karasu, the king of cool, casually rolls the ball up with his foot and does one of his famous elastic cuts followed by a no-look assist shot. 

“kinda difficult. probably too fast to pick up on first try,” he smirks. 

you try. you nail it. 

first try. no hesitation. 

the ball glides into the net like you’ve been doing it since birth. 

karasu slowly removes his imaginary sunglasses. 

“… are you a government experiment?” 

you: “is that your way of saying good job?” 

he’s lowkey impressed and also mildly panicked that he might not be the slickest one in the relationship anymore. 

but he gets over it quick and says, ���cool. we should do duo trick shots and make money.” 

mikage reo

reo is SO dramatic about teaching you. 

he plans a whole lesson, brings cones, makes a playlist. 

“this is gonna be our bonding day, babe! you’ll learn from the best.” 

you: “okay, show me something fancy.” 

reo: “say less.” 

he dribbles between cones with lightning footwork and ends with a clean nutmeg-shot combo. 

then turns and bows. 

“good luck topping that–” 

you do it. all of it. smoother. faster. even add a little spin at the end. 

reo’s soul leaves his body. 

“HOW???” 

you shrug. “i just… watched?” 

he is clapping like a proud stage mom but also spiraling a little. 

“okay, but i still look better doing it, right? right???” 

he makes you wear matching jerseys and calls you his "soccer power couple" for a week straight. 

niko ikki

you ask him for soccer tips and he gets all shy but serious. 

“o-okay… just, uh, follow my lead.” 

he does this intense, stealthy feint he’s known for, disappearing around your blind spot and curving it in. 

he’s proud. it’s his baby move. 

then you do it. perfectly. with the same footwork, the same angle, the same curve. first try. 

he stares at you in disbelief. 

“was that… did you just read my blind spot?” 

you: “i mean… yeah? it made sense.” 

he looks at the ground. 

“am i… obsolete?” 

you immediately shower him with praise, telling him you learned it because he made it look so cool. 

he softens. 

“… okay. just don’t start covering your forehead, too. we can’t both be mysterious.” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[cressidagrey]

Cricket Whites

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Felicity Leong-Piastri (Original Character)

Summary: Oscar plays Cricket. Teenage Felicity is TOTALLY normal about it.

Notes: Don't leave me alone with a Google Doc for an hour, or this is the result.

Y'all can thank @llirawolf and @leodette for both sending me that picture of Oscar in cricket whites.

(divider thanks to @saradika-graphics )

Felicity Leong had always considered herself a composed person.

Even as a teenager, the age where everyone else was all hormones and impulse, she was the calm one. She planned things. She colour-coded her notes. She knew her boundaries. She once told a boy in Year 10 that “flirting is not a substitute for intellectual value” and walked away before he could reply.

So really, there was no excuse for what happened when Oscar walked onto the pitch.

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, the kind where the Haileybury campus looked like a postcard: golden light spilling across the cricket green, the redbrick buildings glowing warm against a cloudless sky. A soft breeze lifted the edges of the white pavilion flags. It was all very idyllic. Very civilised.

Felicity had come prepared — not for the match, but for productivity. Her physics textbook was open on her lap, highlighters neatly lined up on a blanket, hair twisted into a no-nonsense bun. She had even brought a second set of flashcards to quiz Aarya during breaks.

She was there to “support her boyfriend” in an academically responsible way. Watch the first ten minutes, smile when he glanced over, then get through three chapters on oscillations and waves.

That was the plan.

And then Oscar walked onto the field.

In full cricket whites.

The trousers were unfair. The polo shirt was worse. And the cable-knit jumper with the school crest — God, the jumper — looked like it had been stolen from a Ralph Lauren ad and adapted by angels. He had the sleeves pushed up just past his elbows, exposing his forearms like it was no big deal, and his hair was ruffled from warm-ups in that exact way that made Felicity want to punch a wall.

She blinked once. Then again. Her hand twitched.

Aarya looked over. “You haven’t turned a page in five minutes.”

Felicity didn’t respond. She had just realised she had written the word cricket in the margins of her notes. Four times.

“I’m fine,” she lied, adjusting her glasses. “Just… distracted.”

Aarya leaned in, concerned. “Do you feel sick?”

Felicity let out a low, strangled sound. “He’s got the forearms out.”

Lara glanced up from her phone. “Yeah, that’s cricket for you.”

“He just adjusted his sleeve with his teeth.”

Aarya raised an eyebrow. “Okay. Are you… okay?”

“No,” Felicity hissed. “I’m sixteen and I’ve just discovered I’m shallow.”

To his credit, Oscar was entirely oblivious to the war crimes he was committing against her nervous system. He jogged into position with the easy grace of someone who’d grown up on a pitch, flexed his fingers in his gloves, and took a long drink from his water bottle — all very normal things that, unfortunately, now seemed deeply personal to Felicity.

He wasn’t even trying. That was the worst part.

He wasn’t peacocking. He wasn’t showing off. He wasn’t winking or smiling for the crowd. He was just existing — calmly, sweat on the back of his neck, school crest on his chest — like some private school boy dream sequence designed in a lab.

Felicity dragged a hand down her face and whimpered.

“Do you want me to splash water on you?” Aarya offered helpfully. “You know you’ve been staring at Oscar like he’s a final exam answer sheet for ten straight minutes, right?”

“I have not.”

“You have. It’s okay. Cricket whites do weird things to the female brain.”

“I’m going to die.”

“He’s literally your boyfriend.”

“Exactly! I’ve seen him with morning hair and mismatched socks. And now he’s out there looking like a fictional heartthrob, and I don’t know what to do with myself.”

Later — much later, after overs and innings and Oscar bowling a clean wicket — he jogged over toward her. Sweaty curls. Beaming like he’d just saved the world.

“Hey,” he said, voice warm and a little breathless. “You stayed the whole match?”

Felicity blinked up at him, suddenly aware that her cheeks were still flushed and her voice was definitely not going to come out normal.

“Yes. Obviously,” she said. But it came out more like a squeak.

Oscar grinned. “You were sitting with Aarya, right? I thought I saw you.”

Felicity nodded. “I, um. I was… taking notes.”

Oscar glanced at her closed textbook, still in her lap, the same page open as it had been three hours ago. “Right. Good notes?”

She looked down. Realized she had drawn a doodle of a cricket bat with hearts around it.

“Very good,” she said, stuffing the book into her bag. “Lots of physics.”

He laughed and leaned down, brushing a kiss against her cheek. “Thanks for coming, Fliss.”

And then he was off again, turning back to grab his gear, leaving Felicity to fan herself with a match programme and hiss, “I am in so much trouble,” under her breath.

Aarya just patted her leg. “You’re doomed. But like. In love.”

***

Oscar Piastri prided himself on being unflappable.

On the track, in exams, during surprise oral presentations — he was composed, methodical, ice-water-in-his-veins calm. His tutors loved to say he had “a natural temperament for pressure,” which was a nicer way of saying nothing ever seemed to rattle him.

That composure extended, usually, to his relationship with Felicity.

She was the one person who could throw him off, yes — but never in a bad way. She made him feel steadier. Like being with her made everything else make sense.

Which was why it took him exactly three seconds after sneaking into her room that night to realize something was different.

Fliss was standing by the desk in pyjama shorts and an oversized hoodie, hair scraped up in that messy bun she always claimed was an accident, even though he thought it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

“Hey,” he whispered, already grinning. “I had to wait till Mr. Bates turned his WWII documentary on. I think I know more about submarines now than I ever wanted to.”

Felicity didn’t roll her eyes. Didn’t smirk. She just crossed the room and kissed him.

Like, properly.

It wasn’t their usual soft goodnight kiss. This one was all heat and hands and startled noises in the back of his throat, and Oscar had just enough brain cells left to catch her waist and kiss her back before every single logical thought in his head short-circuited.

When she finally pulled away, pink-faced and breathless, Oscar just stared at her.

“Okay,” he said quietly, catching his breath. “Not that I’m complaining, but... what the hell was that?”

Felicity dropped her face into his hoodie-covered chest. “Don’t ask.”

“I’m going to ask.”

“You’re going to regret it.”

Oscar laughed, slipping his arms around her waist. “Was it the flash cards? Did I finally win you over with molecules?”

“You’re such a nerd.”

“You just snogged me like I came back from war.”

She groaned again, louder this time, and shoved him lightly. “Shut up.”

Still, she didn’t move far. And when he ducked down to look at her properly, he saw it — the pink blush across her cheeks, the way she wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Which meant he really wasn’t letting it go.

“Still not telling me?”

She sighed, then looked up at him, and it hit him again — how beautiful she was when she was flustered. “It was the stupid cricket whites, okay?”

Oscar blinked. “The… what?”

“The cricket match. Your uniform. The sleeves. The sun. Your forearms. I don’t know. My brain shut down. Aarya had to tell me how to spell ‘turbine.’”

Oscar stared at her, baffled. “You’ve been tutoring sixth formers since you were twelve. And cricket whites took you out?”

Felicity groaned and tried to walk away.

Oscar followed her, laughing. “No, no, I’m sorry, I’m just—seriously? That’s what did it? I’ve made you flashcards with little doodles. I learned ballet terminology for you. I literally memorised your favourite cookie recipe -”

“Yeah,” she muttered, dragging a hand through her hair. “And apparently none of that matters because your arms looked good in the sun.”

Oscar blinked again. And then—

“Oh my god,” he said, delighted. “You were checking me out at cricket.”

“I’m breaking up with you.”

“You love me in cricket whites.”

“I am not dignifying that with a response.”

Oscar was glowing. He couldn’t help it. Because the most brilliant, most put-together girl he’d ever known had just short-circuited over his stupid cricket whites.

“Tell anyone and I’ll key your laptop,” Felicity threatened him. 

Oscar bit back a grin and stepped forward, cupping her face.  “I won’t tell a soul,” he said softly. “But just so you know… I would’ve worn that stupid jumper a lot earlier if I’d known it had that kind of effect.”

Her eyes narrowed, but the corner of her mouth betrayed a twitch of a smile.

“I hate how smug you are.”

“I’m not smug,” Oscar said, all innocence. “I’m flattered. My girlfriend thinks I’m hot. In cable-knit.”

“God, you’re insufferable.”

And then he kissed her again — softer this time.

And he was still grinning when they fell asleep, tangled under her duvet, her fingers curled into the hem of his shirt like they always were — the same shirt she’d probably end up stealing the next day.

Cricket whites, he thought, smug and dazed and very much in love.

Who knew?

[soulcaketuesday]

Eight of Pentacles 🌤️

Eight of Pentacles symbolises diligence, self improvement and learning new skills. Miki sits peacefully in an overgrown sunlit garden, having spent all day painting birdhouses. Instead of chasing his nostalgia, he's honouring it by creating something practical and new. Sometimes you need to let go of perfectionism and just enjoy the act of creating - it might not be a masterpiece that perfectly captures the magic of childhood, but putting a lot of effort and sincerity into a project will always be worth your time.

this is one of my pieces for a zine that was unfortunately cancelled. the other piece is here, go look at this kid winning the cycle of violence. drafts and notes below

will you guys make fun of me if i over-explain this to death 🥺👉👈 so um the inspiration for this is the start and end of ep26: starting with kozue trying to save a birds nest as a tree is being cut down, and ending with miki putting up a bird house to replace the tree. the bird house doesn't repair their relationship - they don't speak in the moment except to insult each other - but when we see them next in the finale they're a lot more comfortable with each other! is miki's birdhouse an empty gesture or is it the first shaky step to finding an understanding? idk 😊 i think its neat

i thought itd be nice if he was approaching art and creativity in a more relaxed way, just enjoying learning a new skill. repeating the same song over and over will only get you so far <3 i think this boy needs a new hobby <3

some things:

the designs of the birdhouses are based off the twins' bedroom. they start off a bit more messy and simple but get more detailed towards the bottom. he's getting better thru practice! and the last pentacle is still a work in progress

the fireflies were originally going to be flowers, and i think i spent like 20 minutes googling native japanese wildflowers that would grow in a setting like this and also had the right flower symbolism i needed 🫠 but anyway in one of the early check-ins someone said they liked the fireflies and i thought sure!!!! sounds good lmao :D imo they imply a late summers evening and a long day of outdoor work which probably works better than me struggling with flower symbolism lol

the shoes looks good as hell before i remembered i had to cover them up with grass and the frame. now they just blend in to the piano a bit. sad!

for some reason i did all the line art for this and then painted it anyway. why did i do that.

i'm still kinda fond of the first one with miki studiously leaning over a miniature rose garden while the actual garden grows wild around him... one of the interpretations of eight of pentacles (reversed) is being so focused on details that you overlook the bigger picture, which i think really fits miki as the student councils Bloke Who Does Fuck All. he has the appearance of someone who's very analytical and sensible, but he's so locked in his own tiny perception of the world that he mostly just comes up with whatever conclusions suit him best, regardless of any harm he might be ignoring or outright causing. HOWEVER that's kind of an ungenerous interpretation for a relatively chill card 😌 also i had no ideas for a background and the composition didn't work with the border so rip to that idea

i liked the stopwatches as pentacles so tried to reuse it in the third design but was out of ideas by then. the seconds thumbnail with the birdhouses and the piano kind of came naturally so that's what i went with :) and it more or less stayed the same in the final result. i was thinking of adding some kozue presence, like empty milkshake cups or a birds nest or graffiti on the side of the old piano, but imo that would have made it too cluttered. i literally did forget to add paint pots tho OOPS

[kdh-tally]

Saja Boys Food Preferences

Prompt : Saja Boys Try Human Food for Real (comment from @mythosmaiden)

Author's Note : The order was randomized i promise! Stay till the end for a short Bonus ;D Also I've noticed (i copy my work from a google doc into tumblr) a lot of my formatting changes (specifically indents :( )

Romance-Saja: 

A sugar fiend

A sugar demon

Sugar

I do think he would have the BIGGEST sweet tooth out of all the Boys.

Would it be a stretch if I said that the “Soda Pop” song was influenced by him?

Imagine (when he’s still a demon) him being so oddly passionate about energy and brightness in human songs

Maybe it’s because it was something he never got to experience…

Anyways!

At first, it started slow. 

He would definitely have tried chocolate as it fits with his whole romantic concept but then it becomes a craving he needs to fulfill everyday.

He would steal some of Mira’s food from her fan mail whenever he could and only become more obsessed.

But then someone handed him a crème brûlée (yk cause it’s french? and France is the city of love? And Love = Romance?) at a fan event, and it was over for everyone.

The type to have an organized snack drawer of his favourite sweets.

You have the candy in one drawer, the snacks in another and then a whole other section for chocolate.

At this point it isn’t even a snack drawer, it's a whole damn closet.

“This must be what heaven tastes like~” he hums, walking to the dorms with Mira and Abby

“Romance, that’s literally just sugar and fat.”

“Exactly.”

Fans now have photos of him sneaking off to cafés in full disguise. 

There’s footage of a mysterious man inhaling cupcakes at a bakery in Seoul. 

Fans know it’s him and they’re right but he denies it anyway.

He tries to get the others hooked so he doesn’t feel alone but they have their own addictions.

“Come on Mystery, just try the strawberry cheesecake. Just a bite.” he tries to feed him.

“I said no.”

“I always knew you hated me” 

Baby-Saja :

He’s already made a name for himself.

His tastebuds are comparable to Bakugou’s from MHA.

High tolerance to spice.

As seen in the movie this guy was HAPPILY downing a bottle of hot-sauce. 

He was literally kicking his feet. (TimeStamp on Netflix - 1:10:16)

As a result of this, he must add spice or hot sauce to anything.

It sounds weird to others but since he was a demon his taste buds are haywired and don’t work like they’re supposed to.

I imagine him on live eating icecream or something and he gets comments like “What flavour is that?”

Bro will deadass look into the camera and say “Jalapeno”

Who in the world made Jalapeno Icecream and why on earth is bro eating it???

In one of my past posts I mentioned that he would share his snacks with Zoey.

Zoey probably has a decently high spice tolerance (thanks to Mira) but it is NOTHING compared to Baby’s.

“You said these were flaming hot cheetos!” she whines as she hurriedly drinks a tall glass of ice cold water.

“Yea,” Baby shrugged, tossing a few more into his mouth. “They’re flaming hot” he pulls out a cheeto that is literally on fire.

Mira and Baby would have competitions

In the airplane scene, Mira’s ramen says Spice Queen so I heavily believe she loves spiciness as well.

Her tolerance isn’t as high as babies but she will go up against him solely out of spite.

“Are your taste buds even real?” Jinu would ask, watching him top raw chili peppers with habanero flakes. “They are. They’re just stronger than your whole bloodline.” “K.”

One day on tour he was forced to try some average cookies and almost turned back into a demon because of how bland it was.

He has a shelf in the company kitchen labeled. “DO NOT TOUCH. BABY’S FIREPANTRY.” The only person allowed to look through it is Mira because he respects her commitment.

Mystery-Saja :

He would act like he didn’t care about food at first.

Would side eye Romance for trying to feed him sweets and watch Baby warily as he basically burns his tongue off.

Though most of the demon powers faded, he still doesn’t need food to really survive. 

Maybe they only have to eat like once a month or something before they begin starving.

Anyways

He ends up learning everything through Zoey

I wouldn’t say he cares for one specific food but more so food from a specific culture. 

Said culture being american food style foods.

Burgers, Fries, Fried Chicken (gnarly), Tacos, Cheese Fries, Steak.

Big, messy and more or less very VERY unhealthy.

He’ll still act like he doesn’t care about food. He claims he only eats to survive. 

Catch this man in the kitchen at midnight microwaving leftover pulled pork Zoey brought from some food place downtown.

“I thought you didn’t like barbecue.”

“I don’t.” His chewing is the only sound in the room “...It’s fine I guess.”

Zoey smirks. He blushes. She walks away before he can defend himself.

He now goes to Zoey for food now because she always seems to know the best places to eat nearby.

“Hey! I found this place that sells suuuuper good Philly cheesesteak. Taste it and tell me if it’s good.”

“For what?”

“Is it a crime to want to share this experience with my darling coworker?”

He has no response to that and stuffs the food into his mouth.

Heaven.

He can be found watching long tutorials on how to make a Mexican packed Burrito bowl from scratch. 

No one questions it..

Abby-Saja :

The least picky

Somehow the most willing to try absolutely everything, no matter how strange.

The type to try Balut (developing fertilized duck) or Casu Marzu (maggot cheese)

Doesn’t necessarily care for food but wants to enjoy the human experience so he tries everything.

Fried crickets? He says they taste like chicken.

Boiled frog legs? He says they taste like Swamp style chicken.

Balut? Crunchy surprise chicken.

Notice the pattern?

Mira would dare him to try a Durian and at first he’s against it. 

This honestly comes as a surprise cause he hasn’t minded all the other things

It was the odour that put him off though,

“It smells like toxic sewage” he’d complain before trying it.

He loves it.

He says its sweet and rich and creamy.

Mira is watching this in disgust btw.

He’d have a fan from Thailand deliver him a suitcase of dried insects to try out.

He thanks them profusely 

Of course this confuses everyone. 

He has a whole list ranging between sweet, savoury and down right horrid (but still somehow good?)

He’d spend days trying out each insect and rating them, loyally updating fans on his discovery.

“This reminds me of peanut butter” he’d say while eating out of a bag of crickets.

The group is heavily disturbed. 

“Why do you do this?” Mystery eyes him while eating out of his own bag of caramelized pop-corn.

“Protein.”

“You don’t need to work out?”

“Spiritual protein.”

“You’re a demon??”

“Demonic protein”

“What does that even mean—”

He is now the food vlogger in the Saja Boys.

Seems like the type to do a mukbang but not because of the asmr. Really just because he knows his fans want to see just how far he’ll go with his food.

There are compilation reels of his chaotic reviews.

Some of them feature Zoey cause she’s the least bothered.

Jinu-Saja :

Seeing as he was human before, he seems like the type to cling onto the food from his past life.

A traditionalist in the culinary sense.

Maybe cause eating traditional food reminds him of what he could have had with his mom and sister, before everything went wrong. 

Or maybe not 🤷

“Why are we eating scorpion skewers when there’s rice and kimchi in the fridge?”

“Because the scorpions were on sale, Jinu,” Abby says, chewing.

After learning how money worked in the human world the boys either became shopaholics (Romance and Baby) or very frugal (Abby and maybe Mystery).

He tries to explain and introduce the boys to korean staples

Kimchi-jjigae, Tteokbokki, Bibimbap, Bulgogi, Jjajangmyeon, etc.

The boys do not get it

The girls do.

He turns into a male wife for Huntr/x. Cooking for them everyday just so he can see SOMEONE appreciate the traditional food.

He didn’t know how to cook at first. As we know from the movie, he was served food and never seemed to have to make it himself.

However I can see him forcing himself to learn how to do it. Kinda like to take his past back in a way. Maybe make his mom proud.

To Jinu it isn’t just food. It’s control. It's the ability to create something and call it his own.

It’s the first time in 400 years that he could put something into the world that didn’t cause destruction. 

Rumi would find him heating up and plating Banchan in the middle of the night. She’d jump up to sit on the counter beside him, just watching.

“Need help?” she’d offer but he’d shake his head

He enjoys the peace that comes with reviving memories. Memories he actually enjoys. 

Now when he cooks he doesn’t see the castle life he greedily enjoyed, but instead a group of his closest friends fighting over food.

Mira -> “This is almost as good as my grandma’s…”

Jinu -> “Really 🥺?”

BONUS : Huntr/x

Zoey : The honorary food guide, bringing random snacks for Mystery (and the others i guess) to try. Also loves snacks

“Here. This one’s American BBQ chips. It’s mid.”

“I found you some boiled snails Abby!!!”

“We’re out of hot sauceeee :(“ 

Mira : The spice queen. 

Not as talented as Baby but is the closest second.

Often borrows the least spiciest food she can find in Baby’s stash.

She will however, eat from Mystery’s snack closet though.

“It’s alright I guess,” she scoffs as she eats another chocolate covered strawberry.

Rumi : The picky eater. She judges everything.

Well everything except Jinu’s cooking

“The texture’s all wrong,” she grumbles while forcing a piece of kimchi down her throat.

“It’s just pickled cabbage Rumi,” Jinu would point out

“It’s gross it what it is”

“You don't like it? 🙁” 

“Jinu no…..”

[empty-movement]

Chiho Saito’s 1999 Revolutionary Girl Utena Original Illustration Collection

IT’S HERE. IT’S DONE. IT’S FINISHED. NOW…IT’S YOURS. Happy Holidays, my friends.

Vanna here! I have posted some already about this project, and the responses I got, public and otherwise, have been absolutely incredible. Y’all have been reblogging and hyping this before it even finished…I haven’t felt so encouraged about an Utena project since the musicals! (Yes, streams soon, I promise.) You can read the other post to get more details, and catch my post here with more details about the process if you’re interested. The long and short of it?

This is the first artbook I ever scanned. I did it in 2001. In Photoshop, using multiple scans per page that took hours to process. But it was 2001. A half megabyte file that was 1250px wide was considered extremely hardcore and impressive. That’s just always been the business I’m in when it comes to Utena art, you know? 

It’s now the latest artbook I’ve scanned, and so much of the process, and effort involved, is unchanged. What has changed, is the result. Welcome to your new desktop background. Your new phone background. Your new poster print. 

What I’ve done here is attempt to create definitive digitized images of Chiho Saito’s work as offered by this book--I have removed the print moiré of the original scans, and used my literal decades of experience to try and tease out as much information from them as possible. Without being physically in front of the original artwork (which is a thing I’ve had the great fortune to get to do) this is The Most Chiho Saito you are ever going to get. I’ve tried my best to make sure there is a way to get it that works for everyone:

Do you just wanna scope 'em out? Look at some disaster gays? Grab your favorite one or two? This is the path for you! Check out the ‘compressed’ (not very) 10k ‘web friendly’ (not really) copy at the Bibliothèque, the media archiving wing of the Something Eternal forums at Empty Movement*. All the following links are also available from here. Do you want these copies? All of them? Don't just grab them individually, friend. This batch is 375MB and can be downloaded as a zip of the individual files here on our Google Drive.

Do you like digital archiving? Are you looking for a copy that preserves the archival quality of the effort but sits nice and comfy in a single file? This is for you. A minimally compressed 10k, 513MB version worked into a PDF is now up, shiny and chrome, on the Internet Archive. Do you like the idea of the minimal compression, but want the individual files in a zip? Yep I did that too, here's the drive link.

Are you looking to print these in a larger size? This is probably the only reason on Earth you’d ever want them, and yet a bunch of you are going to go straight for these. Here are the zero-compression JPG full size copies, most of them are 15k across, like simply a ridiculous size. Pick your fave and download it from our Google Drive! 

I am genuinely really proud of this work.** I was able to tease out so much new detail from these…her incredible layering techniques, the faintest brush of her highlights, and the full range of her delicate hand at whites and blacks… details commonly lost in digitization. I sincerely hope you find something here that you’re looking for, as an artist looking for inspiration, as a weeb looking for a desktop, as an archiver excited to see incredible 90s manga artwork saved forever in the digital realm. I feel like I have already said so much about them, and could keep going, but you know what? This work speaks for itself. Enjoy, use, explore, and definitely tell us what you think!

We love y’all. ~ Vanna & Yasha

* AHEM ASTERISK AHEM

You might be wondering what any of that is. Something Eternal? Biblewhatawhat??? EmptyMovement.com? You might even have done a double take at the word ‘forum.’ And you should!!!

I have a confession. This artbook was my ‘side project’ as I worked on this, *the main project.* For a couple years I’ve been banging around with a new domain, and originally I had other plans for it, but Elon Musk ruined my Twitter and Discord is well along on its way to enshittification, and well….we joke on the Discord a lot about ‘reject modernity, embrace forums’ and you know what? We’re right. So Yasha and I are putting our money where our mouths are once again, and doing something insane. We are launching, in 2023, a website forum. Obviously, this is not the official ‘launch’ per se, but I cannot announce the artbook without directing you to the forum, since it sits on the attached very cool gallery system. Oops! Told on myself. Another post more focused on the forum will be forthcoming, but if you are just that motivated to get in right away, you absolutely can! (This will help stagger new arrivals anyway, which is good for us!) If you would rather wait for the ‘official’ launch, by all means that’s coming, including a lengthy screed about how and why we’re doing this. In either case, remember: this is a couple weebs trying to make internet magic happen, we are not website developers by trade. Give us grace as we iron things out and grow into this cool new website thingie…hopefully along with some of you! :D

If you do join up, naturally, there is a thread about this project!

** If you like this kind of content, consider helping us pay for it! We do have a Patreon! If you’re wanting to use these in some public-facing distributive way, all we ask is for credit back to Empty Movement (ohtori.nu or emptymovement.com, either will work.) 

I would like to say ‘don’t just slap these files on RedBubble to get easy money’ but I know that saying this won’t effectively prevent it. Y’all that do that suck, but you’re not worth letting it rain on the rest of this parade. :)

[tanadrin]

My, unsolicited and underqualified advice to your variously despairing followers:

First, Google "volunteering" + "your area." Sign up for something. Now. There is a widespread, implicit belief on here that "doing something" looks like doing some self-care, working on your mental health, getting informed, and then, once you're well-adjusted and fully knowledgable, selecting the perfect arena for leftist political engagement. This is backwards: signing up to do something to help your community will instantly make you feel less helpless, less anxious, and happier. I spent 3 hours making sandwiches at the soup kitchen (literally trivial in the grand scheme! but also tangibly helping people!) and it is the best I have felt since Trump entered office.

Second: find other people in your life (for me this is my partner, not a pre-existing leftist community) and ask them to keep you accountable to being politically involved in some specific way. We are going to my first ever DSA event this afternoon, and it is 100% because both of us are expecting the other person to keep up their part of the bargain.

Third: I am trying to get out of the overly-online headspace in which I think about politics purely in terms of ideological alignment (to what extent do we share the same opinions?) and instead focusing on concrete goals and looking for the people around me who are fighting for those things.

Final tidbit: Just before writing this, I saw that a Missouri judge just struck down laws requring abortion providers to receive special licenses, which in practice were used to prevent anyone being able to legally provide abortions. This is after people voted via ballot meaure to make abortion a constitutionally protected right in the state. Based on my friend's knowledge of similar successful efforts in other states, I'm going to guess that victory was the result of years of organizing by majority middle-aged liberal women. And that victory, in turn, means that thousands of people will be spared the cruetly of forced birth, which is a victory of a massive, massive scale.

Now, if you're still reading this—Google "volunteering" + "your area." Sign up for something!

This is good advice.

[infiniteglitterfall]

friggin faux-Palestinian history, istg

I'm in the middle of writing a post about the difficulties of pinning down details and dates in Palestinian history. This one is just me stopping to vent for a sec.

I came across the Wikipedia page for GUPS, the General Union of Palestinian Students. This is an organization with groups at colleges all over the world. Ish. It's shrunk over the decades.

The page made a bold claim: that GUPS was officially founded in Cairo in 1959, but had really started in the 1920s.

I called bullshit. The only source cited was a dead link to the 2010 version of the SFSU GUPS page, which said the same thing -- no context, no source, and especially, no explanation of how Palestinian student organizing could have started before there were colleges or universities in Palestine.

There were two. They were tiny. And they both taught in Hebrew.

Certainly, there could have been Arab Palestinian students there, who learned Hebrew there, or already knew it.

But were there so many that they started a student group that apparently lasted 35+ years before getting a name??

I could not find one other source for this.

So I deleted it and called bullshit.

Within a day, someone who wasn't even logged in reverted my edit. They told me that I hadn't proven that it was wrong, I'd just said it was illogical.

I started looking up sources and putting together a more detailed edit. In the meantime, I started a topic on the totally empty talk page, politely calling bullshit.

I said that I hadn't been able to find any sources in English OR Arabic that confirmed this claim, and that I thought it was an error made on a dead page.

The same person, now logged in, replied:

"you still haven't refuted the claim. the claim is still on their web page."

BRUH.

IT'S AN ARCHIVE OF A DEAD PAGE. BY DEFINITION, IT DOESN'T CHANGE.

This is exactly how it feels to research any of this stuff.

Every single time, it turns out that people's unsourced online bullshit is absolutely wrong.

Every single time, people just respond by insisting on believing whatever claim some rando made on the internet.

The problem is not that Palestinian history doesn't exist, hasn't been written down, or hasn't been researched. Of fucking course it has!!

(I have literally seen people claiming the contrary in the most wild-ass fucking ways. Supposedly-pro-Palestinian people, acting like Palestinians are wooby powerless fuzzy babbies whose books were all stolen by the cruel Jews 80 years ago, who had no way to replace that historic knowledge, and who have just been standing around ever since. It is the most Western Paternalism shit ever, and it absolutely drives me up the wall.)

The problem is that this is a topic that a lot of people are passionate about. And unfortunately, a whole lot of people are unwilling to back down on literally anything that "feels" pro-Palestinian to them, whether it's true or not.

It's purely going on Vibes, but the Vibes themselves are based on how something compares to the Vibes they get from social media and stuff.

And those vibes are so extreme and vehement that any kind of pushback sounds like You Love Genocide And Kill Babies For Fun.

It's just a fucking vicious spiral.

It's like playing tennis against the tennis-ball-throwing machine. It's not a real game. Nobody is engaging with you. It's just the same shit over and over.

(I was trying to type "shot." But apparently I swear so much that instead of autocorrecting me to "ducking hell," my phone now INSISTS I meant to cuss.)

I ended up getting Google to give me the Arabic for GUPS, and then digging for sources about its actual origin.

It turns out Yasser Arafat formed the Palestinian Students League in Cairo in 1949, and that became GUPS in 1956. This is entirely fucking unsurprising in any way if you know anything at all about actual Palestinian history. Of fucking course he did. This also explains why the first search result I found about GUPS was from the PLO. Of fucking course it was.

[l3monlem0n]

Some Murder Drones Episode 7 screenshots I thought were interesting and my thoughts on them :>

SPOILER WARNING!!!! is spoilering

Nori, despite being a middle aged woman with a child, appears to be an Otaku or otherwise likes "edgy" and "scene" stuff, as well as listening to nightcore, very much like her daughter. Good for her tbh you're never too old to have fun

She also has a photo of Khan and what I can only assume is baby Uzi, though it appears to have blue eyes, but maybe it's just the lighting. Still very cute she has a pic of her husband

As well as all the previously mentioned Otaku stuff, she also drew herself as an anime character. She has a skinsona. Phenomenal (pos)

Nothing much here, just Uzi coughing up blood. Girl got the goop (gore) inside of her already

Lab Space. Apparently the Church was just down there and not even the humans know why. The canonicity of this is questionable; it could just be a joke

OT, as per google, stands for "Occupational Therapy". Makes sense for the context, and makes the bottom text funnier

"Fun Time To Universe Big Crunch: 87". The Big Crunch is a hypothetical way the Universe could end, where the universe folds on itself and shrinks into a single point. 87 "what" I don't know. If it's months, that 7 years and 3 months

Honestly the Murder Drones lore is super confusing. I think what this is trying to say is that every other Zombie Drone is doing poorly, (Except for Yeva), they are trying to reactivate 002 (Nori) via the USB. I'm not sure what this means. Maybe they only got the results they wanted from the two of them, and are trying again with Nori since she was the only other one that worked (also why they got Yeva when she failed; this may all be referring to how the episode opened up) Also, the date says SER. As revealed in the episode Cabin Fever, Copper-9 has months that Earth does not. SER most likely stands for Seramorris, the month revealed in that episode

Looks like the "bad event" wasn't the first one. Certainly was the last one though lol

Just a good pic of ghost/hologram V with the scary stuff. Might use this as a wallpaper

You can literally see the hole in his neck where N bit him in...

...And it's to the point his HEAD FALLS OFF. (including because I didn't notice the first time around)

Yup, the idea that Uzi became the Admin for N and V is completely true. I wonder what would've happened if she didn't, since Cyn didn't react whatsoever

friggin bug (very pos)

You would not believe how difficult it was to get a good pic of this (I'm using snipping tool lmao). Always a pleasure to see Uzi's doodles. Things her gun can do (upper right):

NOT judge her

Forced prom date (?)

Allows her to say she had friends before she frickin murdered them with sci-fi machinery

The cut off text at the bottom: Plan B: Normal gun + Shoot really fast

This is while Tessa is looking for something in the lockers. Claws, chains, magnets, Wings, and scribbled "HELP". Looks like the lockers were all specifically to hold the infected worker drones. Oof

We are in the future now baby. We have rererererereCAPTCHA. Funnily enough, it still couldn't stop a robot

There is a message board where someone who doesn't like robots is talking. They also are scared. Also no one else is using this system, which is unsurprising. "Ur aight ;)" Wait is the winky face intentional foreshadowing? Or unintentional?

We get the names of a bunch of other Worker Drones. Unfortunately for all 029 fans, her name was not visible. (also can someone tell me what "JWEB" could be short for?) And Yeva is said to have a patch. That may be the crucible thing idk

Cyn (which I will be calling this version Skyn [Skin + Cyn]) apparently took of the space suit just to give Doll the Withered Foxy jumpscare. Honestly really terrifying. If this photo was teased before release I think the fandom would've exploded

Just N being a good boy :3

The MDs, Cyn's pets. Nori refers to them as "Nerfed" so the "Entity" can ensure control, and says they were made to destroy other hosts. I don't know why Cyn would want them dead, but I'm not the loremaster here. YouTube line is there because I couldn't be bothered after the Railgun image

Probably already confirmed, but doubly confirmed that a symptom of the Solver is giving Drones organic insides. A Worker Drone body with a rib cage and guts. I wonder what would happen if the infection continued uninterrupted (also R.I.P. Doll I loved you :frown:)

I'm sure everyone noticed, but when Uzi tried to manipulate Tessa, the ERROR noticed appeared. Already hinting Tessa is not all she says she is

Apparently the Solver can create Black Hole Saws. Interesting development (Blackhole Blitz)

I know most people (I think) see this as a joke and N just being a bit of goofball. But honestly, I think he did it intentionally to shock Cynuzi and give Nori a chance. In the Pilot, he licked V's sword to surprise her too, which means he isn't unfamiliar with doing something weird and surprising for the advantage

Skyn eating Doll's core. R.I.P. Doll again. Seriously, was that Doll in Core Form like Nori was? Or was Nori a fringe case because she was "Exorcised" and this is just a regular core? Questions, questions. Also yeah the Solver also gives you a Core. Fun

This tag makes me think that this body is Cyn's actual body. Not longer a hologram, but her actual body from the mansion. The reason Tessa gave N, J, and V their names was because that was the first letter of their Serial Designation (she's very uncreative). However, Cyn's tag was slightly faded, which meant her SD couldn't be seen, so Tessa gave her the name "Cyn" after her P/N, even though the other 3 already have the same P/N as Cyn (Tessa, again, is very uncreative)...

...and for some reason, Cyn or the Solver, which ever theory you subscribe to, decided to wear Tessa as a skin suit for some twisted reason. It did help her with the Captcha. Also scary because this doesn't have the right proportions for an adult (unless Cyn really forced that skin on), which leads me to believe that this is a Younger Tessa, and she faked having an older voice. Maybe I shouldn't call her my wife... I'm sure Eldritch J is still available :^)

(Seriously, the eyes are burnt out, leaving two eye holes over the visor, so she gives herself two X eyes so it looks better. Also yeah we found out what that thing on the "It Came From Copper-9" poster came from. It really was Cyn or Skyn)

Just a frame of the final...frame... for coolness. I'm probably also going to use this for a background. Also, this is definitely Copper-9. You can see the ring and ringless moon together on the right. Uzi somehow got sent to orbit after falling in the meat hole

Well that was all for now. This series has consumed me entirely, body and soul, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Goodbye and goodnight

[killerkendallroy]

CHAPTER ONE

INTO THE VIPER NEST

NEW MONEY: A ROMAN ROY X READER SERIES

MASTERLIST WORD COUNT: 4.6k

“You can’t just say ‘it’ll be better next quarter’ and wait for the money to magically come. That’s like telling a dying kid their tumour stopped growing. Yeah, it sounds good on the surface but it doesn’t mean they’re not riddled with cancer still.”

Warnings: Succession canon themes including but not limited to: Mentions of swearing, sexual jokes and connotations, corporate jargon, etc. Mentions of cancer, a bunch of Florida slander

The lead up to your first day was as luxurious as it was nerve wracking. You’d booked yourself a myriad of different treatments and appointments to prepare; a hair appointment to touch up your roots, a mani-pedi, several different facials you didn’t quite understand but was convinced your skin needed and a massage to try and work out the kinks and knots throughout your spine. God, that was what you needed. You had so much tension and stress held in your shoulders even the masseuse commented how surprised she was that someone your age was so tight.

After you closed your eyes, you were out like a light for the remainder of the two hour massage. You didn’t mean to fall asleep but it was that deep, soulful kind of rest that came when someone else was literally handling your relaxation for you. At the end of your session, the massage therapist shifted the aromatherapy in the room to a blend of peppermint and rosemary essential oils to ‘invigorate you’ compared to the previous lavender and chamomile, before gently nudging you awake. Momentarily disoriented and slightly embarrassed that you’d nodded off in the first place, you lifted your head and apologised to her, but she simply gave you a kind little smile like she’d seen this happen time and time again. Which she had.

“Your body really needed it,” she said quietly, smiling like a permanently zenned-out monk. Without a single stress in the world it looked like. Or a single wrinkle.

You’d chosen to move to New York and stay in an Airbnb until you found the right place to live. You didn’t want to rush into finding the space you’d someday call home. You’d donated the majority of your furniture rather than take it with you, give or take a few sentimental items. It was mostly from IKEA and Target; cheap flat-pack furniture styled nicely in your little condo. It would have been more of a hassle to hire interstate removalists to put it all into storage than to just donate it and buy new pieces once you settled in.

One week to pack everything up, two weeks to be a tourist in your new city, and one week to mentally prepare.

Now, you laid in the bed of your Airbnb, still half asleep but rolling over to turn off your alarm as you woke up in the morning. Today was the day you’d decided to make a shopping spree day, specifically for buying clothes for work. You’d stalked a tonne of your future colleagues on LinkedIn to see what type of performative bullshit they all wore, sussing out their outfits as you scrolled. You were lower middle management back in Florida, leading a team of 5 junior staffers and rocked up to work in jeans. Which was an impressive feat in itself give you were only in your late twenties but something told you shopping at H&M and Zara wouldn’t quite cut it anymore.

New York was one of the fashion capitals of the world, not to mention you were now upper middle management in one of the biggest media companies in the world. You were overseeing a team of 20, things were different. Your image mattered a lot more whether you wanted it to or not. You were ‘important’ now. To some people. Not most, but some.

Opening Google on your phone, you typed ‘where do rich people buy clothes in NYC’ and mentally sighed at yourself for searching something so blatantly dumb in the first place. But hey, it provided you with the results you were looking for so maybe it wasn’t so dumb after all. Bergdorf Goodman, Saks Fifth Avenue, and the long list of luxury designer stores on Madison Ave… Perfect. You figured you’d start with Saks; recognisable, convenient, and it was a department store that housed dozens of brands under one roof. Easy.

You walked through New York City with your head slightly tilted up, not quite enough to gawk but definitely enough to stick out amongst the locals. Someone who doesn’t really belong here. Not yet. Maybe not ever but fuck, it was just so big. The buildings stretched impossibly high, their glass facades reflecting the sky in fractured blues and silvers. A pigeon nearly clips your shoulder, and a yellow cab honks at another car that runs a red light which makes you flinch and step back from the kerb, yet no one else moves a muscle. They move through the city streets with practised ease.

The closer you got to Fifth Avenue, the more curated everything feels. You passed a woman walking a dog in a knit sweater and she didn’t even glance at you when you smiled politely. Neither did the doorman outside a residential building whose awning was embroidered like royalty. Nor did the food delivery guy riding past on a bicycle. You tried not to take it personally that they didn’t smile back; New Yorkers were just like this.

Inside the 10 storey store, you didn’t bother looking at any of the prices on the various items (if they even had prices displayed) which sounded like fucking lunacy, but you told yourself that today it didn’t matter. Waystar gave you more than enough to have the kind of spending spree you’d only ever seen in movies, yet still have the confidence that you could afford the total at the end. The lump sum of money wouldn’t last forever if you kept this type of frivolity up permanently, but kicking off this new era of life with a fancy new wardrobe couldn’t hurt.

And fuck, you looked good on your first day.

Waystar Royco in its most simple and basic essence was a fucking behemoth of an empire, and with majority of their business divisions based out of New York, the Manhattan office was a sight to behold. How could it not, with its 60 storeys of corporate slaves and money hungry psychopaths?

Your new Prada heels clicked against the polished floor of the lobby as you approach the marble reception desk and you politely stood in front of one of the receptionists. Waiting. Longer than expected. Just…waiting.

“Name?” she asks, barely looking up at you. You answer and she types a few times without so much as an acknowledgement, then you wait again. And she types some more. And you keep waiting. Finally, she nods and looks up at you for the first time. “You can head up to level 48, someone will meet you there.”

Cold. Direct. Blunt.

How very New York of her.

The numbers on the elevator panel blink as you move higher and higher, your ears popping faintly. You’re not sure if it’s the altitude or the nerves but finally you reach the 48th floor. The doors slide open with a quiet hiss, revealing the Parks and Cruises division floor but before you can even look, you’re startled by a loud voice.

“It’s you!” Greg exclaims loudly. Excited and shocked yes, but far too loud for 9 in the morning.

“Greg?!” The name slips out of your mouth before you can curb your surprise, your brows furrowing in confusion.

“Hey!” He says shaking in his head in disbelief and debating in his head whether or not a hug was unprofessional. He’d leaned forward slightly like he was about to, then decided against it at the last second.

“You…work here?” You questioned, not sure if you were shocked at the fact he was here in New York or whether he was still employed by Waystar at all. The last time you’d seen him he was in a dog costume being escorted away by security. You were certain he would’ve been fired after that.

“Yeah, I’m in New York now, yeah,” he chuckles, ushering you with his hand to follow him down the hall. “Y’know it’s so weird, Tom told me to meet you here after reception messaged him and I was like, ‘oh I wonder how many people in cruises have the same name as the chick from management training’ as in like, the same name as you, but here you are. How are you? Oh my god, this is so crazy… You’re like, a proper manager now.”

He keeps talking as you walk, a stream of words filling the silence like a soundtrack you didn’t ask for. You look around at everyone clicking and typing away at their monitors, a quiet hum of corporate droning that doesn’t match the energy bubbling out of him. Somehow, it’s comforting. It lets you think that this place doesn’t consume every part of a person and make them miserable. Not completely.

“Wait, you work for Tom? The guy who just replaced Bill?” You ask, given Tom was going to be your new manager too. Surely Greg wasn’t a manager too, right?

Greg spins around to walk backward for a moment, grinning down at you like he’s introducing you to a theme park ride. “Tom? Yeah, he’s my boss. I don’t really have a title yet per se, but I report to him so… Oh! Wait until you see your office. It’s got a sweet view.”

You bite down on the inside of your cheek, trying and failing to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I have my own office?”

“It’s not as big as some of the other ones but it’s got a couch in there so…that’s pretty cool.”

For a moment, it doesn’t matter that this role came wrapped in NDAs and dotted lines, that this office came with so many strings it was impossible to detach from them. All you can picture is stepping inside, setting down your bag, and knowing the space is yours. Yours to work, to think, to breathe.

Greg stops in front of a glass door halfway down the hall, gesturing proudly like a realtor showing off a penthouse. He points to the blank name plaque mounted next to it, glossy and untouched.

“They’ll order you a proper name plate, don’t worry,” he says, like that’s the final seal of legitimacy. Then, with an exaggerated sweep of his arm, he pushes the door open. “Home sweet home.”

The desk sits adjacent to the window, sleek and immaculate. Empty shelves line one wall, still bare and a small charcoal couch hugs the opposite side. A little stiff-looking, like no one’s properly sat on it a bunch of times and made a butt print.

You walk straight to the floor‑to‑ceiling window, fingertips brushing the glass as if to prove it’s real. You’ve never seen New York from this high before, especially since you’d flown in at night so seeing it now felt surreal. Like a tiny fake Lego city.

“Holy shit…” The words slip out under your breath before you can stop them.

Behind you, Greg lets out a soft chuckle. “Yeah,” he says, leaning a long arm against the doorframe. “That was, uh… pretty much my reaction too. You kinda forget you’re up this high until you, like, go past a window. Then it’s like, oh wow, this is huge.”

He closes the office door behind him but he doesn’t move too much closer, doesn’t crowd the moment. He just lets it hang there and gives you space to soak it all in. Somehow that makes it feel more significant, the silence of it all. You stand there for a moment longer, gazing down at the city you’ve moved to that’s promised so much yet taken so much in return.

Your gaze drifts back to Greg and for a moment it’s like your words get caught in your throat. “This is… fuck,” you exhale. “I can’t even string a sentence together right now I’m so shocked.”

The sound of your voice feels smaller in the space, like it doesn’t quite fill it yet. Greg gives a shy shrug, sitting on the couch like he’s trying to make the moment feel more relaxed. Through the glass walls, you spot a couple of heads lifting from screens across the floor. They’re quick glances, calculated and sharp, disappearing as soon as you acknowledge them. But the message is still strong. They’re watching you not only because you’re new, but because you’re young, a female, and a manager.

“It’s kind of overwhelming… But you’ll get used to it soon-” he starts to say before he’s cut off by Tom pushing open the door and tapping his knuckles against the glass.

“Knock knock,” he says out loud, punctuating it with a hollow laugh like even he knows how forced it sounds. His grin is wide, corporate, performative. The kind of grin that had been practiced in boardrooms and polished during cocktail hours.

“Greg…” Tom’s voice drips with mock scolding, staring him down. “You’re not scaring away our new friend already, are you?”

You straighten instinctively and shake his hand with a polite smile that you hope hides the flicker of nerves under your skin. “If it isn’t the man, the myth, the legend… You must be Tom Wambsgans.”

“And you, must be my shiny new hot shot from Florida.” He grins, taking a relaxed seat on the arm of the couch next to Greg. Somehow making the 6 foot 7 man seem small in the leather cushions. “How was it, down in our most penis shaped state?”

“I mean… It’s sweaty, humid, reeks of cheap sex and piss…” you joke, trying to keep the conversation light after being thrown off by your new boss talking about penises in your first introduction. “Guess it is America’s dick.”

“Born and bred Southerner?” Tom asks with a subtle grimace, hoping and praying you weren’t. Nothing against people from the South, he just…didn’t like them at all.

“God no, I grew up in DC. I only moved down to Orlando a few years back for work.”

“Good, good. Well, I’ve gotta run to a meeting but I just wanted to pop in and say hello. And I’ll see you at the quarterly review this afternoon,” he says to you before turning towards Greg and nudging his head towards the door for him to follow. Which Greg does, like his ever loyal puppy.

Tom strides down the hall towards his office, Greg trailing half a step behind. The nice midwesterner energy Tom had in your office; the easy grin, the overfamiliar jokes, the whole ‘teamwork makes the dream work’ vibe he had going on, melts the second they’re both out of earshot.

“So,” Tom says, his voice dropping just enough to make Greg lean in to hear. “What do you think? Is she a good egg?”

Greg blinks, caught off guard by how fast Tom had flipped the switch. He still wasn’t used to it yet. “Uh, good egg? I mean, yeah? She seems nice. Normal. Like, super normal. I actually met her at management training a few months back...”

Tom barks out a laugh, already settling behind his desk, fingers flying across his keyboard to look you up online. “You? Greg? Went to corporate daycare?” He lets out another laugh, shaking his head like the very thought of Greg enrolling in management training was absolutely absurd. “Bet Grandpa Ewan helped you get into that one, huh?”

Greg stayed silent, which only answered Tom’s question and confirmed his suspicion.

Meanwhile Kendall Roy, the epitome of psychopathic corporate slaves, stood in his father’s glass office staring at the skyline of the city. Desperate his whole life to take over Logan’s empire and grow the Roy family legacy to an even larger scale, Kendall had worked tirelessly for years on end to try and get his father’s approval. He told himself he wouldn't rest until he became CEO but even then he wouldn't stop until he was dead.

He'd work from the moment he woke up to the rare moment he fell asleep, majority of his nights fuelled by cocaine and adrenaline. At one stage his estranged wife Rava had given him an ultimatum: check into a rehabilitation facility or lose visitation rights of his two children Sophie and Iverson. Reluctantly, he went to rehab. Not for Rava, not for his Dad, not even for his children which he said was his main reason. No, no, he went to rehab to clear his name as a 'coke head' for the sake of his career.

It wasn't until his father Logan had encountered a recent stint in an Intensive Care Unit that Kendall received the news that he was not stepping up as the new CEO of Waystar. It killed him inside, knowing how power hungry his other siblings were and that his lifes greatest competition was not yet over.

Now, he was co-COO with his little brother Roman.

Major bummer.

“Yo Rome, I need you to drop in on the parks meeting for me.”

“And what, make sure Wambsgans isn’t fucking drowning?” Roman says without looking up from his phone. “His big ass hockey town shoulders practically make him a walking buoy.”

“Sure, whatever, but the division is down on last quarter and I need you to sus it out for me.”

“Why do I have to do it? You know operations better than me, you’ve been doing it for however many fucking years.”

“Cos we’re co-COO’s now and that means we fucking, uh, share now. Fifty-fifty, dude. And I have to go meet Lawrence from Vaulter.”

Roman groans and stands up from the couch, shoving his phone in his pocket reluctantly. “Fine, I’ll go…” he whines. “When is it?”

“Check your cal.”

Roman squints at his brother, “Or you could just tell me what time the meeting is?”

“It’s at 11:30. Check your fucking calendar.”

“Was that so hard?“ Roman scoffs. “Could’ve just told me the time when I asked but noooo… Robo-Ken over here is only programmed to say shit like ‘check your cal’ and ‘optics’ and fucking, ‘synergy’ instead of talking like a normal fucking human.”

Downstairs, the bottom of your heels scuffed ever so gently against the carpet as you walked down one of the never ending corridors, scanning each room number for the right room number.

"Thirty one fourteen, thirty one fourteen..." you mumbled under your breath, repeating the specific identifier over and over again to not forget it.

You were still breaking in the pair of heels you’d bought on the weekend and they pinched at your toes with every step. There’s something weirdly poetic about it, you thought. The way they felt wrong on your feet, the same way this whole new life feels like a costume you haven’t broken in yet. The discomfort isn’t enough to stop you, but it’s there as a reminder that luxury doesn’t always mean ease. The money sitting in your account, the new apartment and the fresh wardrobe filled with tailored clothes… It all fit, technically, but not without a little ache underneath the surface.

Eventually you found Room 3114 and waited outside quietly for the current group to finish up inside. Two men who you assumed were also fellow managers within the Parks and Cruises division, approached the same room, giving you a polite smile before continuing their conversation in a hushed tone.

"You reckon that had anything to do with him getting the new title? Man, if only there was another Roy daughter to fuck, then I would get a promotion too," The first man scoffed, provoking an eye roll from the second before you hear Tom from the other end of the hall.

You weren’t the only one to get a sporadic, out of the blue promotion it seemed. Great timing on Waystar’s part to be fair, putting you on a leave of absence until the start of the new quarter when Bill Lockhart’s retirement would create the need for a structural reset. They brought in a replacement for him, created several new roles including yours, and made a bunch of existing roles redundant. It was looking like a fresh start for Parks and Cruises.

Tom walked with purpose, a hint of cockiness in his step and an overarching sense of power in his stride. He knew that he worked hard for his new position in the company, with or without the help of his fiancée. "Shaking the tree folks, shaking the tree," Tom called out as he approached the room, swinging the door open and smiling at the previous meeting holders until they got the hint and left.

The rest of your colleagues took their seats along both sides of the long table, opening their laptops and notebooks in anticipation for Tom to begin presenting. It was a brief moment of quick introductions before Tom jumped straight into action, outlining the company's position on where they wanted the Parks and Cruise division to grow. It was a spiel all too familiar to them, a new manager telling their team how excited they were for innovation, change and growth, all for them to end up becoming empty, unfulfilled promises.

The presentation he had prepared was a high level plan to how the Parks division was to increase revenue; a very straightforward meeting to most in the room. Enthusiastic about working capital as one could be, his presentation was halted about a half hour in, when the door slid open from Roman.

"Hey, just- Pretend I'm not here," he said, moving to an empty chair that he was now rolling to the back corner of the room.

"Roman, hey! I didn't think you'd were attending… Normally Kendall joins us but uh, we’re just running through last quarter to realign on our plan moving forward. Thanks for joining us buddy. Take a seat, get comfy," Tom grinned, his smile wide like a nervous Cheshire Cat as he continued.

You suddenly grew self-conscious that the Roman Roy had joined the meeting. You’d never seen any of the Roy's in the flesh let alone shared a room with one. All of the men in the room seemed to shift in their demeanours, their backs straightening and their focus sharpening. You’d only heard stories about Roman but the majority of them weren't particularly positive testaments to his character.

You remembered during your college days the majority of the boys in your economics classes had an unhealthy infatuation with Kendall and Roman Roy. They viewed them as the epitome of success; their idols, their inspiration. They wanted to become them. On one hand, they were the sons of a billionaire media mogul who brought fresh and innovative ideas to a traditionally old-school industry. On the other hand however, they didn’t seem shy away from the drug fuelled partying and Playboy-esque gallivanting — they were truly a finance bro's wet dream brought to life.

"Wait, go back to that other slide. Yeah, that one. Can I- I’m just gonna stand real quick," Roman interrupted, getting up from his chair and moving to the front of the room where Tom was presenting on the screen. His 'can I?' was rhetorical, since he would have taken over the meeting regardless of Tom's answer.

He stood next to the screen with his arms folded across his chest, inspecting the data in front of him. He was equally as threatening as he was captivating. Every man in the room stared in both fear and admiration. The only other woman in the room looked bored to her core. But she was like, in her sixties so you kind of expected her to be bored. You would be too if you’d dealt with this corporate bullshit for that many years.

"This number, with the minus in front of it? This isn't good. This makes me feel like we’re getting fucked in the ass," he pointed, tapping one of the dozens of numbers on the screen.

"Ah yes, brilliant call out. I'm uh, I'm actually going to let someone else on the team take this one, just to see who’s been paying attention. Who’s across Tokyo?" Tom laughed, knowing full well he was caught off guard by the negative figure just as much as Roman was. It was a new role to him too but he didn't have the courage to admit he didn't know everything.

The room fell silent as the group of grown men pulled faces to look like they were deep in thought or trying to recollect a memory that didn't exist. Some even went as far to flick through their notebooks or squint at their laptop screens for semblance that they were ‘organised’.

“How much is this expansion thing costing us? And how much are we gonna make from it? Someone, anyone...” Roman asked the room.

“We anticipate that revenue figure will increase next quarter looking at our current trend line,” one of the other managers says.

Way to state the fucking obvious, you thought.

“How though? You can’t just say ‘it’ll be better next quarter’ and wait for the money to magically come. That’s like telling a dying kid that their tumour stopped growing. Yeah, it sounds good on the surface but it doesn’t mean they’re not still riddled with cancer.” Roman scoffs.

You stifle your laugh to be professional but a small, single sound sneaks out. Nobody really notices, but Roman does. Tom does. As they both look at you, you quickly look down at your notebook and flick through the quick high-level notes you’d written earlier that morning. Fucking lucky, of all the things you thought to write down in preparation for this meeting, BrightStar Tokyo’s expansion was the main one. You’d worked on the expansion for the past two years so you were pretty familiar with it, but not the exact financial figures until now.

You breathe in slightly before speaking, “We’ve budgeted for 320 billion yen so far.”

“In USD that’s like, what? 2 bil?” Roman mutters to himself.

You answer, “2.2 billion.”

"Fucking hell…” Roman trails. He narrows his eyes as if he’s trying to put his finger on whether you were a new face or if he’d met you before and simply just forgotten.

"Oh! Roman, everybody, this is our new Strategy and Planning Manager. It’s her first day today, so go easy on her," Tom laughs.

Your fellow managers give polite smiles and mutter their hello’s before looking back at Roman in front of the screen. Roman was far too important to learn the names of each and every 'civilian' he interacted with but something about you intrigued him. He used the word civilian like he was some sort of fucking superhero, placing an extreme point of difference between himself and those outside the elite. He couldn’t name a single other fucker in the room apart from Tom and Greg, and even then he’d called his cousin Craig for several weeks.

Roman’s first thought was ‘must be bring your daughter to work day’ given you were so young but surprisingly, he bit his tongue.

He looks around at the rest of the room. “First day and she can answer a simple question…” he says before looking at Tom with a semi-impressed eyebrow raise. “Where’d you find her?”

“Florida.”

Roman screws his face up in disgust and flicks his head towards you, “You’re from the South? Ew.”

“Definitely not,” you say, almost too fast to have thought about your answer. “I moved to join Waystar 6 years ago.”

He nods, acknowledging your tenure with the company rather than assuming you were fresh meat looking at all of this with the eyes of a kindergartener. “Okay Florida, what do you think… Are we fucked or is it a mild penetration?”

“Just the tip, we’re good.” You smile, glancing at Tom who looked relieved that Roman wouldn’t be telling Logan how fucked the division was. You give him a slight nod as if to say ‘I’ve got your back’ with the hopes he’d have yours in future. Fingers crossed.

“Super vanilla.”

Taglist: @gxilds @zenbyo @sweetnettlessting @lilacbe @aullyjay @violet1661

COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST xoxo

[rigelmejo]

Let's suppose you want to learn Chinese mainly to read webnovels (or other reading material).

Now, personally, I recommend some study of pronunciation like pinyin, and watching some videos or reading some articles on tones and tone sandhi, grammar, hanzi and hanzi structure. Because at some point you'll probably want to listen too, speak too. So you know - use other resources to study the other skills! If you plan to do anything besides read eventually. Also, I think some pronunciation study actually helped me with remembering hanzi (the sound components in them) and reading skill.

But lets suppose you're studying mainly so you can read webnovels. Which is what I did in my first year. And you can set a goal to start reading webnovels within a year. For some people it takes as little as 3 months to start reading webnovels, for others like me it took around 6 months to start reading webnovels and 12 months to feel comfortable.

Download Pleco app and Readibu app. These apps will be your best friends. Pleco app is a dictionary tool so you can look up unknown chinese words, and it's Clipboard Reader area is where you can paste any chinese text into and then click-translate any words. I recommend the first time you look up any word, you press the dictate/speaker tool so you can hear how it's pronounced. You can save words in Pleco and study them using Pleco's built in SRS flashcards if you wish. Mainly though, the important part is using Pleco to look up words, read example sentences, and to use the Clipboard Reader area to read any Chinese text you find online. Pleco has an area to purchase graded readers, these will probably be some of the first things you read (if you choose to use paid resources). Readibu app is a click-translation Reader app for Chinese, you can browse the app for webnovels, or you can go to the Search area and paste in a url of a chinese webnovel, then Readibu will say it's not in the database so click 'search with Google' then you'll see the url as a result and click it, then bookmark the webnovel page in Readibu. From there you can click the open book icon on any webnovel, and it will make it just click-translate text and provide you the Readibu app features. Once you're reading a lot of webnovels, you may wish to use Readibu to read, for some people it will be more convenient than Pleco for going chapter by chapter.

Make a plan to start studying hanzi. I recommend you focus on the most common 1000-2000 chinese words, or the HSK 4 vocabulary, or both. The goal here is to get your vocabulary and hanzi recognition around HSK 4 level. I used this book (Tuttle Learning Chinese Characters: (HSK Levels 1 -3) A Revolutionary New Way to Learn and Remember the 800 Most Basic Chinese Characters) because it just clicked with me, I just read through it over a few months. You can use SRS flashcards (like Anki or Pleco) collections that people have made (I recommend this Mnemonics Simplified Hanzi Deck, or Mnemonics Traditional Hanzi Deck). For common words, I recommend Spoonfed Chinese anki deck (note it has some mistakes but I like that it has audio and sentence examples), but there's a ton of anki decks and common word frequency lists (you can genuinely just study a list) just pick a resource you like with either 2000 common words or HSK 4 vocabulary. Literally just pick any study materials where you can learn roughly 1000 common hanzi and 1000 common words or more. Whatever materials work for you. Study however you want - some people find anki flashcards useful (I just cram studied 1000 words for a few weeks each then never looked at anki again), some find books useful, some find textbooks useful, some use vocabulary lists, some use videos, just pick something. Your goal is going to be to study these words/hanzi in 3-6 months. 8-10 months if you want to wait to read longer, or need more time to study. I studied 800 hanzi in the book I linked for the first 3 months, then 1000 words the next month, then 1000 words the next month, then about 500 more hanzi the next month. It is okay to cram study! It is okay to not memorize these hanzi and words! Just get a basic familiarity! You are going to fully learn these common hanzi and words when you READ later.

As you are studying common hanzi and words, start reading a grammar guide if you would like some knowledge of grammar. Or watch some grammar videos on youtube, whatever clicks best with you. Basic Patterns of Chinese Grammar is a good grammar guide summary book, AllSetLearning Chinese Grammar Wiki is an excellent website you can read. I read another grammar guide summary, the website no longer exists. Again, do not try to memorize and drill this stuff, just go through it and get a basic familiarity. You can move on if a particular grammar point makes no sense right now. Learn about grammar the same time you're studying hanzi and common words, so the first 3-6 months.

Okay it's been 3 months! You know some hanzi (maybe 50-500), you know some words (maybe 50-1000 depending on how intensely you've been studying)! Start reading! You're going to start with Graded Readers, which are reading material made for learners. Heavenly Path's Comprehensive Reading Guide suggests some free graded reader resources in the Below 1000 characters section. I used Mandarin Companion Graded Readers and other graded readers I could purchase in Pleco. Mandarin Companion has some graded readers with 50 unique characters. I started with some Pleco graded readers that had 300 unique characters, then moved up to graded readers with 500-800 unique characters. Read graded readers! Reread them! Look up any words you don't know (using Pleco or something else). Listen to the pronunciation of any new words. If reading in Pleco, you can use the Dictation tool to hear the sentences read aloud. When using graded readers in general, use any audiobooks that accompany them. Mostly though just read, read, read, and look up anything you want. Look up grammar points in something like AllSetLearning Chinese Grammar Wiki if you are now starting to see some grammar that confuses you while reading. The reading practice is what is going to teach you the words you've been studying in other materials.

Now it's been 6 months. You've been working your way through graded readers of increasing unique character count (and are now reading graded readers of at least 800 unique characters or more). You've been working your way through studying common hanzi and words, and now have studied at least 1000 words or more. (If you cram like I did, you probably have studied over 2000 words but only the 800-1000 words in your graded reading material have been 'fully learned' and the other words you studied are only vaguely familiar, this is perfectly fine). Go to Heavenly Path and start reading the stuff they recommend for people who know 1000-2000 characters. I think @秃秃大王 by 张天翼 is perfect for people who know around 1000 characters to start with. You can keep reading some graded readers like those that go up to 1500-2000 unique characters if you'd like, but start trying to read novels for native speakers too. Again, I recommend anything in the easiest 'recommendations' from Heavenly Path's recommendation list of webnovels, a lot of novels for children will be perfect at this point. You'll gradually work on increasing the unique characters of your reading materials. Read in Pleco or Readibu so you can use the click-translate tool. To find webnovels online, paste or type the chinese name of the novel (and author if you know it), and then 'zaixian yuedu' like this '秃秃大王 张天翼 在线阅读'. It is very easy to find novels online in chinese.

From here you just continue reading more difficult novels! Go at the pace you choose! Once you're reading stuff with 2000 unique characters, then if you wish you can stop studying hanzi and common words outside of just looking them up in reading. You can of course continue to study hanzi and words outside of reading. But if you'd rather just learn words by looking them up as you read, you can start doing that as soon as you switch to novels for native speakers (1000-2000 characters). Congrats, you are reading webnovels!

Some people start reading webnovels within a few months, and you can start with a higher unique character count if you wish. Such as starting with MoDaoZuShi or Zhenhun or SaYe as soon as you go from graded readers to regular novels. The difficulty curve will be a lot steeper, and you'll be looking up a LOT of words for a while. But other people have done it. I started reading webnovels around 6 months, after doing graded readers for a while, and it took picking several easier and harder reading materials until I found a comfortable reading level to continue from.

So it boils down to: start studying very common words and hanzi (a list, a book, anki, whatever works for you, and you don't have to memorize just get some Exposure some Basic Familiarity), read about grammar if you wish (again just get some Basic Familiarity so later if you need to look up a grammar point in depth as you read, you know what to look up), and START READING ASAP. Use Pleco and Readibu to read with click-translations of words. Start with graded reader materials, then as soon as you can tolerate move on to novels for native speakers. Heavenly Path's website is a great resource for finding reading material at your level if you have no idea what to pick and don't want to trial and error different webnovels until something is doable. For anyone who finds sounds help with memory (like me) or who plan to eventually learn to listen to chinese, listen to the pronunciation of any new words when you look them up. If you watch cdramas, cdramas often have chinese subtitles on them, those can be good practice for reading as well.

You can start reading within a year. You can read graded readers within a few months, as soon as you feel it's tolerable. And then you can just learn new words BY reading, review words you've looked up before BY reading, review grammar BY reading, and work your way up to reading whatever webnovels you want. I find learning words BY reading much easier for myself, doing what I want to do in the language as I'm learning to read, much easier to stick to and enjoy than anki flashcards or word lists or textbooks. So from me, the suggestion to push yourself to read graded readers ASAP is so you can get to the part of learning BY reading quicker.

[strawbslvr]

How shifting finds us at the right time! + Me before and after shifting.

TW!!!! Mention of su!c!de, family issues, depression, fucked up mental health! And lots of yapping!

@a-fish-learningtowalk

Let’s go back all the way to 2022. At the start of the year I found out about subliminals, so basically I was scrolling through YouTube and there was this video that popped up every time I refreshed my home page. It was something like “Glow up in a day” ,the thumbnail was a pretty girl and the video was like 1 minute and something long so I was like “why are they capping, glow up in a day and the literal video is 1 minute long??! What a sick joke” but out of curiosity I clicked it and then I was welcomed with MUSIC and then I was like “hah! I knew they were capping, this is just music!” But I went to the comment section and there were literally people saying

“Omg this is a masterpiece! My mom came to my room and told me how pretty I look”

Then someone was also like “this literally gave me results in a week.

Edit: A GIRL TOLD ME IN SCHOOL HOW PRETTY I LOOK!!!”

Those were the comments that I still remember cause they confused me the most. After that I was just like ???tf? But when I went to the description I saw a term “sub” few times and then there was used the term “subliminal” so I just assumed that the term sub was just short for subliminal.

I went and searched what the fuck did I just see aka I just searched what is subliminal. There was this woman in a video that explained it and at first i obviously was like “what the fuck? This is so cool and too good to be true” cause babe wdym I can listen to an audio that can change my appearance and all of that stuff.

Well that’s how I just viewed it to be which isn’t exactly the case.

I listened to some subs for the rest of the night but I was just so disappointed when I woke up the next day and saw no results and just immediately guessed that this was just plain cap. And after that I stopped listening to subliminal but the craziest part was like I totally forgot they existed like after that. (I will tell more later!)

Summer 2022

At this time I got into my k-pop phase I was constantly daydreaming of my group and how I wanted it to be, literally imagining scenarios throughout the day and I literally wrote in Pinterest ��K-pop idol scenarios”💀 I was deadass.

Then in one scroll I found a bunch of scenarios from TikTok, (they were just screenshotted and put into Pinterest.) it was like “scenarios for your K-pop Dr” at first I was like tf is a Dr? But I just decided to ignore it and move on and just read the scenarios cause they were good but that Dr term continued to pop in every picture I saw and then I truly got curious. To which resulted in me searching what is a Dr? Google said it’s a short for desired reality, and I just assumed sum stupid shit.

Anyways 2022 came to an end. And I TOTALLY forgot about subliminals and K-pop idol scenarios and tf is a Dr. like I’m not joking I totally forgot those existed.

2023 start.

The year I turned 18, yippeee!! So the start of the year was somewhat ok, few months later I started getting problems with my parents. Arguments with my parents, especially dad increased like A LOT. My parents started to get mad at some stupid stuff, their temper was just like shit. School started pressuring and at that period I had A LOT of exams (I still do but 👀) I didn’t have time for myself and I also got sick a lot. And few months passed in this environment and at some point I just admitted that I feel anxious, stressed, suffocated and depressed. Then I got told that my aunt is suffering from this sickness and she needs to do surgery but they had financial issues and the surgery got postponed a lot due to the money missing and that didn’t help my aunt’s health at all. and bro feeling shitty isn’t a surprise at this point. At some stage I decided if this is the life I’m going to live, I don’t want to live at all. I was very su!c!dal, and I attempted like two times but luckily didn’t do it.

2023 summer

One subliminal popped into my YouTube page again, it was something like “goddess like beauty, confidence and a better self concept” thing I’m not sure and then I was like “oh right! These things exist!” And I just listened to it for fun and surprisingly I felt better in few days. And those were few of the best days in the last 6 months of my life. I started actively listening to subliminals and actively affirming. I’m talking about every morning and every night before I go to sleep at least for 30 minutes. And then dududuudud

I found a subliminal about reality shifting and then I again was like “wait? This is that reality traveling thing, how can I forget this?” And I actually asked myself why didn’t I try it before? The summer my journey was honestly mostly jokes and fun, didn’t take it seriously and just did it for the excitement it gave me. But about 2023 fall I actively started scripting and took the journey a bit more seriously than before.

2024 fall. Now.

I still got a lot to improve and a mindset to work on. But I’m just happy of where I am now. I found a reason to live for and like a dark tunnel where at the end you find the light. Shifting brought me hope and genuine peace knowing something like this exists. My aunt did the surgery and she is healing little by little but at least she can practice her normal day life,she still got some checks here and there but nothing compared to what she was in before. I seriously stopped listening to anti shifter since they are just trying to demotivate y’all and me too. If I haven’t found out about shifting I don’t think I would still be here. Shifting seriously finds us at the time we need it the most!

[proshippers-against-censorship]

found a LONG post here on tumblr which has nothing to do with pro/anti discourse (inherently) but it talks about how many people who claim they're leftists are still buying into conservative mindsets

A lot of (often young) leftists here seem to oppose conservatism but don’t actually doubt many of the core principles of conservatism. This is especially obvious when looking at tactics or methods

1) Accepting Right wing Framing of Issues

I think censorship might fall into this. The whole "think of the children!" panic and how many conservatives talk about it, it's a complicated issue turned into a simple binary narrative.

So many leftists, rather than challenging the binary just accept it but invert it.

"Actually yeah censorship is really bad but it also like helps children and also gets rid off a lot of illegal material" instead of challenging censorship in itself and admitting that no, even if we censor and ban everything it'll never stop the demand for something, nor does it help children or victims in any way. What people fail to realize is that it's not just art that will be struck down, but any simple discussion of sensitive topics too.

We also have seen this firsthand when SESTA/FOSTA passed, rather than preventing the online exploitation of trafficked persons, these laws have hurt the people they intended to help, pushing sex workers and trafficking victims into more dangerous and exploitative situations.

2) The desire for everything bad to be traced back to a single unified source

a core part of rightist thought process is an embrace of intellectual simplicity and rejection of complexity. They like nice, simple narratives with clear bad guys (for example anyone who thinks people should be allowed to have creative freedom which idk antis somehow equate to being a pedophile?) and good guys and where they don’t have to imagine things in a more nuanced or complicated manner.

3) Utter lack of Nuance

you notice that they tend towards dramatic demonization. Anybody in their circle is good, and those that aren’t are pure evil. because again… complex thinking is literally antithetical to right wing thinking.

This could look like something like this: “oh i morally agree with this movie therefore it is good” or the inverse which is just the most simplistic way you can possibly view art

4) Embrace of Conspiracy Theories, Pseudo History, Pseudo Science etc

I think that one is a bit obvious too. The Right thrives on conspiracy theories, because again…facts don’t care about feelings. They always go to extremes where they just make up problems (like how all proshippers are pedophiles), or use scientific language to sound smart but in reality sounds more like "video games cause violence!"

Also seen a lot of antis claim the word "proship" was invented AFTER anti-shippers which... no? "Proship" was a response to the growing harassment in fandoms, and self named anti shippers came FIRST.

This goes from annoying to outright sinister when you take into account that some of them are willing to serve as apologists for certain horrific regimes (for example, antis celebrated Giorgia Meloni's approach towards "eradicating" pedophiles, ignoring the fact that she's a national conservative, that she opposes abortion and laws that recognize same-sex marriage. She's not after "pedophiles", she's after LGBTQ+ people)

5) Mob tactic

they deliberately artificially create mobs for the purpose of mass harassment. Antis and Gamergate are a lot more similar than they think

6) Not Checking Sources

Their "sources" either come from other tumblr posts, carrds or news report webistes which comment on statistics and what's happening but aren't really a good source or representation of their belief (that fiction always affects people's reality, and always in the same way). So instead of double checking... they love spreading utter bullshit, like screenshotting a google result and claiming it as "source"

7) They like fetishizing violence

I really don't like that word but man, antis love violence. They love it so much they talk in detail about it and think it comes without consequences. I'm not just talking about "regular" death threats but whole paragraphs about various ways to torture people

8) Dehumanization. 

The Right is basically evil, and the Republican are a death cult at this point, but even so quite a few elements of the left are just a bit too gleeful. 

And the thing about that militant mindset is that while it might be directed against bad people at first, it quickly can get corrupted.

Take RadFems for example, a group which is a great example of anti intellectualism, militancy and violence from the start.  It was this “with us or against us attitude” that lead many of them to go on to become TERFs because just hating (cis) men was no longer one of their priorities. 

There's a person on twt who keeps a whole gallery of antis who either sound the same as terfs or become terfs later on. I mean, most antis are exclus anyway, basically terfs lite

.

[deadandphilgames]

A note from Daniel (new epilogue from You Will Get Through This Night)

Thank you for reading This Night. Writing this book in 2021, while sitting locked down in a lightless basement apartment for months, had a certain self-fulfilling irony that was not lost on me.

In many ways, I wrote this book for not only my past self that I wish could have known these things when I needed them most - but for the guy sitting in an incredibly uncomfortable, hunched, t-rex-esque position typing, that needed it right then. Like many of you, I thought those particularly fun couple of years were a temporary inconvenience, that I wouldn't have to age the book by diving into. And here we are. I hope you enjoyed that new chapter about resilience and whatever the hell a 'polycrisis' is. Turns out certain global events do have an additional effect on our mental health - it's understandable that you may try to power through it and pretend it never happened, but we all deserve to take whatever time we need to honestly process how life makes us feel. I hope you're doing alright. My journey of reflecting honestly on my own life experiences and lifestyle while writing was …like spontaneously punching yourself in the stomach. "Wow. I really live like this? That is apparently not conducive to a healthy mind. Oops. Guess I'll go touch some grass." I'm happy if that made this a more entertaining read occasionally.

Even now, I find myself continually re-reading the book in those small moments of first emotional reaction to situations where I now at least think "Wait - what was I supposed to do here? Right. Not catastrophise." If this is you - that is fine. You are not expected to perfectly memorise this book or retain all knowledge you hear in life. I know I don't. If you're ever sat next to me in the emergency exit aisle of a plane, know that you may be required to physically throw me out of the door in order to inflate the slide because I was busy during the briefing, imagining how my life would have been different if I actually had the nerve to dye my hair black that time in school. I am at peace with that.

It was honestly terrifying for me to try and mine the content of my life to try and actually illustrate advice for people that may really need it …for me to honestly look at the balance between joking about my mental health, and really getting real. Hey - if your attempt at opening up via some humour comes out a bit offensive, you still get points for at least putting it on the table. That's progress.

This is not a book about me. I am here just as an example of terrible behaviour that you have permission to have an inappropriate public transport snort at, and as a writer who has repeatedly not finished traditional 'self-help' or scientific study books for being dry, unrelatable and preachy. I just hope you found this moist, identifiable and accepting of all of your beautiful flaws. So many flaws. I often worried if any of the material was maybe obvious, or something you could stumble across on the second page of Google - then I had a small moment of honesty with myself contemplating my own ignorance, commitment to procrastination, attention span …and the fact that factually just 0.63% of all people searching online, ever bother clicking to the second page of results. If you already knew some of this, good for you. Honestly. You must literally be happy with yourself. I'm just looking in the mirror and trying to do something for the 99.37% of humanity that spend their lives never successfully researching how to not lay awake at night fantasising about their doom. Look forward to the upcoming pocket size book of 'offensively self-destructive jokes' by Dan - or 700-page memoir of my yet un-girthy, mostly unremarkable life so far if that's what you're really looking for.

Perhaps the most terrifying result of releasing this book into the world, has been coming face to face with those of you that have read it. For in these moments, all of my protective self-deprecating persona comes crashing down in an instant when someone says this book made them feel better. Hearing that this book was the first time they finished anything tangentially related to self-improvement, or that just one thing they read was a new perspective on a part of their life they needed, makes me feel my mission in life is already complete. Seeing it be recommended by bookstores amongst all the other choices, hearing that people have shared it with their therapists or had it suggested to them by a professional, is an unbelievable seal of approval that I appreciate. I am so inarticulably grateful to have been given the opportunity to do anything that could make your life easier, more peaceful, more enjoyable. I've met people who annotated this book with post-its, told me they listen to audiobook exercises on their commute - and even a few people that have had illustrations tattooed onto them as a symbolic reminder of a message.

All of this puts that year of typing like some kind of infinite monkey at a typewriter into perspective. I'd do it all again. Mostly. It has been the greatest privilege of my life to be the guy whose name is printed on this book, and I just hope that reading it helped you, as much as writing it helped me.

Love and good luck.

- Dan

[akilahia]

Thinking about IHNMAIMS in pretty much all of its forms.

Specifically Ted and Ellen. Obviously in the Game their relationship is very different from the short story/comic/radio drama, with Ted being in love with Ellen(although it’s evident it’s because she is the only woman left alive). In the game he shows devotion to her, he is willing to push past his usual methods of flirtation and find other ways to get what he needs.

But in the other adaptions his feelings towards Ellen are mixed. I think his unique backstory with being so dependent on women to live a happier and more lavish life style, significantly effect how he views Ellen beyond AM’s tampering

Throughout the short story Ted constantly thinks ill of Ellen. Even though prior to being placed in this hell, she had only had sex twice before. But she is the last woman alive on earth. The video game(while following a different plot line(still one that is extremely tragic and literally made me cry)) expresses that even before Ellen’s assualr she had little to no interest in sex. She would never have had sex with the four men if it weren’t for

1. AM

2. Being the Last women alive

3. AM’s deliberate tampering

In a world where characters like Benny have been so permanently physically marked as a form of torture by AM, something like sex, is not as extreme in comparison(at least from Ted’s perspective). However to be the last woman alive, with minimal interest in sex, to be tampered with in such a way, is such a horrific form of torture.

I’m going to shift a way from this for a second to talk about Ted’s backstory for the video game. I understand that the videogame makes changes in terms of backstory for some of the characters(like Benny), so we can’t claim Ted’s backstory for the game is even remotely close to whatever it might have been for the short story. However, I still think can provide interesting context to his behavior towards Ellen.

Starting off, he really isn’t the cool rich guy that he played himself off to be when life was still normal. He never came from money, he was poor and he was forced to work and couldn’t go to school. However he was good looking which is resulted in older woman being attracted to him. And when he was NINETEEN, one older woman gave him her husband’s money and offered him the chance to travel and live in luxury.

Now this probably isn’t important, or was even taken into consideration by the game makers, but I was curious as to what the possible age gap between this older woman and Ted could be. The were together for 5 years, then she died

She died specifically of an aneurysm, which according to Google typically happens between the ages of 30 to 60. There is all this stuff with the Cold War and ww3 and I was going to try to do all this math with it but it’s too late for that and not relevant to the point I’m trying to make. But I’m just going to do some simple mental math and estimate that it might have been late 60’s or early 70’s when the older woman and Ted first got into a relationship. As I’m assuming everything went to shit in 1995 since that’s when the game came out, and 25 years had passed after he met the woman. Also this makes sense as Ted’s grandfather sold the farm due to the Great Depression, since most people married and had kids young, I’m going to be generous and say grandpa was 30 in 1929, and Ted’s mother or father was 9, then 10-12 years later Ted was born. Then 19 years later it would be about the 60’s or 70’s.

I am going to presume that the older woman had been married to her husband for at least 15 years. So it might have been 50’s at the earliest possibility. And the average age people married at then was when they were in their 20’s. So when she met Ted she was AT THE EARLIEST 35. Making her at least 16 years older than Ted when the first got together. But also worth noting that they do specifically mention older. So if we look on the higher side of the typical ages for aneurisms she could have been 55 when they first met(as the 5 years would pass making her 60) so she could have been 36 years older than him.

This seriously isn’t relevant to the actual point I’m trying to make with Ellen and Ted but I got sucked in. I guess I just wanted to highlight that Ted did not have the power in this relationship, he was young and poor, while she was old and rich, and I can imagine how that kind of relationship would impact him.

The next thing I want to note is the use of the word ‘lover’.

Though it can be used in a strictly romantic non intimate sense, I think it is used in the sexual way here.

Especially with the provided context of two different definitions of the word ‘lover’ both highlighting it’s connotations with sexual relationships

Furthermore, Ted’s relationship with the older woman is essentially just a sugar baby relationship. She is letting him experience things he never could have without her money. She teaches him how to act as a socialite and gets him used to the high life.

In connection to the sexual elements above, there was a video I wanted to link here but I can’t find it anywhere anymore. It was a YouTube video with a bunch of sugar babies discussing their experiences. And one woman confides that you really won’t make much money if you are in a platonic or non intimate romantic relationship with your sugar parent. If you want to make money and live richly, you have to preform sexual favors.

Now it’s hard to say if this was the only relationship with an older woman that Ted had been in. But regardless of whether it was one woman or a billion, using his body in order to get something that he wants has become an important asset to Ted; As seen in the castle with the maid and the witch. His love for Ellen(in the video game) helps him break past this fatal flaw of his, despite AM’s obvious temptations to make him fail.

Even if this stuff was in anyone’s minds when they wrote Ted’s backstory but I think it’s extremely important to note, especially as we return to my main point.

As stated before, Ted views Ellen negatively due to her promiscuity, despite the desire(felt really gross typing this word in this context) being placed in her as a form of torture by AM. She also is a woman, and Ted’s life has been spent around using and being used by women, so definitely lots of conflicting stuff there. Additionally Ted’s experiences with sexual relations are shown to be based in being transactional.

When he agrees with Ellen to go to the caves to get the food, she rewards him by being intimate with him to show her gratitude. Ted sees it as her ‘using him.’ (From the Radio Drama, I was going to post the clip but I could only post one video in a tumblr post apparently)

In the comic, after this encounter he questions her motivations. What she got out of it, once again thinking transactionally. But her response

“Does there have to be a reason”

Really gets to me. Especially after looking at all this intertextual context. Thinking about video game Ted’s backstory with book Ted’s thoughts and behaviors, he is shown to always think there is some kind of catch. No one is doing something without getting something in return, especially if that thing is kindness.

Ted is so intensely paranoid(as seen in all versions). I think by pairing up the backstory for the game with the short story/comic/radio drama it’s evident to see how heavily affected he is by it.

He thinks he has been tormented less by AM, making him paranoid of the others, contributing towards his behavior towards Ellen. Yet despite everything from the past and all of AM’s tampering, he still finds comfort with Ellen. Her unfaltering kindness manages to reach him even when he dismisses it as a farce. She doesn’t hate him or the others for how they’ve treated her, she still wants to help them. He still cares for her and the others. But he is filled with so much fear. He even apologizes to her.

I feel like at that point in the Radio drama marks a shift. Ted has made a realization about AM and it’s a lot for him, but Ellen is there for him. It’s a genuinely sincere act of kindness from her where she doesn’t ask or expect anything in return. They have some kind of connection. Once again blending the different versions, I think that this moment between them comes together in the end when they kill the other victims together. They don’t speak to each other, they just do it quickly and he kills her. And here he doesn’t refer to her by any degrading names. In the comic he holds her. Like how in the radio drama she held him.

Overall I just wanted to point out how well all these versions really mix to provide so much more behind each character. The backstories for the video game allow the reader to understand book Ted’s actions and relationships from a new angle.

The is was super duper major mess of a ramble. It’s now 3 am and I have a migraine, so I’m done for tonight. I might clean this up another time or make another post about Video game Ted with context to his backstory since I didn’t include the events from the video game in here.

Once again these are just my thoughts and beliefs on how I think the video game backstory for Ted provides interesting context for Book Ted. I know that both stories play out differently and both Ted’s act differently so please don’t get angry if you disagree with the message of stuff I said

mini sequel post about video game Ted

[jeanforestauthor]

Perhaps You Would Like To Read My Book For Free?

Hi! I would like you to read my book. In fact I'd like you to do that so much that the e-book is literally free.

In The Princess and the Peaches we follow Ethan, a young man with a lot of heart, and not much spine, who is struggling to run a small failing grocery store after the untimely death of his parents. Ethan also has the misfortune of being a thoroughly Normal Guy in a world where fairytales are far more fact than fiction.

Ethan has always lived with the understanding that magic was quite firmly None of his Business, but when a wayward Princess falls victim to a curse inside his shop, he is informed by an iron-fisted Fairy Godperson that it has suddenly become Entirely his Business.

As a result, Ethan is forced to deal with flirtatious dragons, sadistic Princes, and more than a few deep seated insecurities.

So look, I won't insult you by trotting out all the tropes I've jammed into this baby. You're cool. We're cooler than that. However, I will say that if you're looking for a read that's fresh, and funny, I truly believe you'll enjoy my book.

Also it's free. Like seriously, no strings attached, free. It's available through these venues:

Google Play to follow soon! If I still haven't convinced you, fear not! You can read the first two chapters right here, after the read-more. Now I'm gonna go, because self promotion makes me feel like I'm chewing glass.

Chapter 1

It was always the same dream.

For twenty-some years Ethan Green had enjoyed placid, peaceful sleep. He'd had boring, pointless dreams and loved it. Then everything had changed, and now, for four years, it had been the same stupid nightmare, every single night. He drifted through it, carried along in its insistent, unchanging rhythm.

He passed through the living room, warm and full of light. Meandered towards the door, his stride easy and unhurried. At this point, Ethan always somehow felt calm, even eager, despite knowing how this was inevitably going to end. Reflecting on it later, he knew it made a sad kind of sense. This was the only way he could see them now.

He heard them before he'd even reached the door. Laughter so deep and loud it sounded like trains passing outside the window. Then a quiet, lilting tone, rising and falling like birdsong.

With one twist of the handle, one swing of the door, he stepped out into the bright, sun drenched storefront, and for just a brief moment, everything felt right.

Ethan's gaze traveled over the deep velvety green of the walls, the worn pine floor, dappled with light. He looked at the big, arched windows, draped in the same old green gingham curtains, heard the quiet chatter of customers, and now, just like every time, he could swear he smelled the scent of sweet, ripe peaches.

And then came the moment he always anticipated. His view swept from the windows, to the neat, trim counter waiting at the front of the store, over the battered old till, up into the lively, animated face of his father.

He was exactly the way Ethan remembered him. Big as a bear and nearly as hairy, booming with laughter, his rough, calloused fingers almost too large for the spindly keys on the register. Ethan took in his twinkling eyes and crooked grin fervently, as if to fix every minute detail in his memory.

And then there, nestled in amongst the bins and barrels of fresh fruit was his mother, as small and willowy as his father was large, but no less intimidating. Her voice was bright, her movements brisk and efficient. Ethan watched her long, elegant hands tug trimly at the curtains and found himself remembering the way they'd often done the same at the collars of his shirts.

Ethan basked in this moment, like the sight of a sunset, brief and fleeting.

Because of course, it never lasted. It started with the windows, like Every. Single. Time.

Small cracks, that began to spread, like ugly, spiraling spider webs, reaching greedily for the corners of the panes, until suddenly with a deafening crash, the air was full of cascading shards of glass. As usual, his parents made no reaction, still cheerful, unshaken. Ethan always tried to reach them, even while knowing it was pointless.

"Dad!" He cried, working off the same unending script. "The windows! What's happening!?"

His father turned to him, a placid smile in place.

"It's alright, kiddo, don't worry. I know you can handle it." He replied in his deep, bass rumble.

Ethan stared down at his feet, shifting through the piles of shattered glass.

"But dad-"

Then the fruit would go. Where there was once jewel-bright piles of fresh, ripe produce, suddenly there would be putrid mounds of rotted fruit, their stench overpowering.

"Mom!? How did this-!?"

His mother would give him that soft, exasperated look, like he'd forgotten to comb his hair again.

"Ethan, it's okay, honey. We know you'll take care of it."

And then came the groaning, rending sound of splintering wood, and Ethan's heart would drop into his stomach. The long beams overhead would begin to tear, shaking dust from the ceiling. Every inch of the walls would begin to crack and buckle.

Ethan would look to his parents, still blissfully smiling back at him. "Everything's falling apart! Can't you see it!? Come on, help me!" He'd cry.

"Ethan calm down," His mother would laugh, "Everything will be fine." "Yeah kiddo," His father would add with a grin, "You'll just need to take care of it."

And like every time, Ethan would find himself brought up short, paralyzed. He'd stand in the midst of the destruction, his whole life going to ruins around him, and he'd be useless.

"You can do it." His father would add, with such perfect, maddening certainty.

"But…" Ethan muttered, as always, his voice strangely clear among the chaos. "But I don't know how."

Ethan awoke, a few seconds before his alarm, like always, just a little too late to stop it from going off. It's grating, jangling tones piercing straight into the center of Ethan's brain.

He levered himself out of bed immediately. A Green did not snooze, he told himself wearily, not when there was work to be done. Ethan had never once in his life slept past the alarm and today was no exception.

Groggily, he shuffled into the bathroom and stared at his reflection. There was that curly mop of comb-destroying hair. There were those same, tired brown eyes. A nose a little too long, a mouth a little too feminine, a frame far, far too scrawny.

Nothing new here.

He went through his usual routine, dressing in the same white shirt, and the same green slacks he wore just about every day of his adult life. He slipped on the same, stiff loafers, and then… Well, then the apron.

He'd thought he'd have gotten used to it by now. He'd seen it on his parents since he was a child. He'd worn it himself since he was a teenager. But somehow, it still managed to give him pause. Probably because it was hideous.

Family legend said that his great grandmother had chosen the color because it reminded her of springtime, of freshness. Most people Ethan knew would never in their wildest dreams have come to these associations. Looking at it, the words of Ethan's best friend ran through his head.

"If that's fresh anything, it's fresh vomit. Unhealthy vomit. Go to the doctor, something's gone wrong, vomit."

But… It had been a family tradition for generations. It was the Green family's trademark.

And so, dutifully, Ethan put it on, tying it in a tight double knot, even though it made it near impossible to get off later. It was what he always did. It was how it had always been done.

With heavy feet, he trudged downstairs, into the living room. In truth, it looked almost no different from his dreams. Everything was still in its place, untouched, as it had been for four years now. A few low couches, huddled around the room, a tall bookshelf standing sentinel in the corner, a battered TV sitting silent nearby. The same pictures, arrayed on the mantelpiece, familiar faces staring out. It was exactly the same, an almost perfect monument to the way things used to be… except.

It was so empty. Ethan had managed to preserve every inch of the room, as though nothing had changed, but somehow, like sand slipping through his fingers, he hadn't been able to keep the life that had once existed here, the almost palpable feel of warmth and joy. Now, absence seemed to hang like dust in the air.

Well, that wasn't the only change. Slowly, Ethan made his way over to the bookshelf, and ran his fingers over the glossy, cool stone of the urn sitting high on its shelves. He muttered a quiet, customary, "Good morning." For a moment he forgot his rituals, forgot his duties, and let himself get lost.

The soft tinkle of the bell on the other side of the door jarred him out of his reverie though. There wasn't really time to pause, he reminded himself. With brisk, purposeful steps, he crossed the room and exited out of the dim, musty corners of his home, and into the bright halls of the storefront.

This too, like the living room, differed little from his dreams, although Ethan thought hopefully that the store at least, was less melancholy than the rest of the house. The soft light of sunrise was just filtering through the tall arched windows, catching in the gingham curtains, painting the pine floor.

There was no boisterous, laughing man behind the front counter though. Instead, there sat Todd… Or lounged Todd, his sandy, brush cut head lying in a nest of insultingly well muscled arms.

This too, Ethan had to concede, wasn't exactly new. Since Ethan had begun running the shop, Todd worked every morning, the same time, same as Ethan, and yet somehow stubbornly refused to adjust himself to actually being awake during sed time. And as he had every morning, Ethan considered that if Todd hadn't been his best friend, he'd probably have fired him by now. That, and he was pretty good at moving boxes.

Sighing, Ethan made his way over to the stool Todd had precariously perched himself on and gave it a lazy kick. Todd awoke with a start, scrambling to keep upright.

"Am I keeping you awake Todd?" Ethan asked with a weary smile.

"Bro, you are single handedly destroying my sleep cycle, but what else is new?" Todd replied groggily, "Why'd you wake me up? You don't even need me for anything."

"The produce shipment-" Ethan began.

"-Probably won't come until noon," Todd concluded sourly.

Ethan scowled. "You've noticed that too huh? He used to come first thing a few years ago… Now he's been coming later and later…"

"Fine by me, I'm in no hurry to play packhorse." Todd replied with a jaw cracking yawn.

"It's your job Todd. Being awake, by the way, is also your job."

"Yeah, when there's shit to do. Trust me, I'll be all over those boxes when they come. I'll hit those boxes like they owed me money. Fuckin' Prince of boxes over here. But for now, no boxes, no customers… So no Todd," He muttered, laying his head down again.

"Todd, come on man. You've gotta do something. Remember what dad used to say? If you've got time to lean-"

"- You've got time to clean, yeah I remember. And don't get me wrong bro, your dad was a regular fountain of wisdom, but it's gonna be a long friggin' day. The dust will still be there after my power nap."

Shaking his head, Ethan abandoned his efforts to rouse Todd and fetched his old push broom from its resting place nearby.

It was worn, it's bristles tattered, it's paint chipped, and it was heavier than a broom had any right to be, the shaft made of what Ethan suspected was solid metal, but it had been in the family for generations, and it fit in Ethan's hand like it was made just for him. Wearily, he took it and made a few halfhearted swipes at the floor, but had to concede that all he was doing was likely wearing more of the already thin varnish off the boards. He'd spent most of last night aimlessly sweeping too, after all. It wasn't like there were customers to keep them busy.

Todd looked up, and seemed to notice the despondent look on Ethan's face.

"Hey man, I'm just fuckin' around. You know I'll work hard today." "Yeah Todd, I know, I'm not really worried about you," Ethan replied quietly.

Todd stood and made his way over to Ethan, awkwardly clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry so much dude. Things will get better. Today's gonna be different! I can feel it!" Todd exclaimed with as much enthusiasm as one could have at six in the morning.

"I don't really want it to be different," Ethan sighed, "I'd rather things… went back to being the same."

Todd scowled. "Well, tough. I said today's gonna be different, and it will. You wait and see, bro."

"Alright," Ethan laughed, "If you say so."

As the day wore on, things certainly seemed far from different. As Todd predicted, the produce shipment came extraordinarily late. True to his word, Todd tackled the task with gusto. Ethan was forced to admit, when there was actual work to be done, Todd was a model employee. It was just sheer boredom that tripped him up.

Unfortunately, boredom was the one commodity they had in plenty at the store. Once the crates were squared away, the produce stocked, there was little else to be found, because as Ethan had predicted, only a few, meandering customers made their way into the store all day. Even fewer had bought anything.

As evening began to fall, Ethan gradually found that even he was running out of mindless busywork for himself, and so, he began to fall back on entertaining Todd's inane chatter.

"Hey, bro!" Todd called from the front of the store. From where Ethan stood, crowded in the far corner, surrounded by crates of fruit, he could only just make out Todd's frame leaning languidly on the counter, a newspaper in hand. "Did you read this story? The one in the paper today?"

"You mean that paper we're supposed to be selling?" Ethan sighed. "Yeah, whatever dude, listen up. Apparently there was a dragon attack in South Mills. Isn't that crazy?"

Ethan scowled. "A dragon? An actual like… wild dragon? I thought those were pretty rare."

"Yeah, I know right? I guess it's the first attack in like, five years or something," Todd paused, laying down the paper, "Hey… do you think something like that could happen here?" He added, in a tone far more hopeful than frightened.

"Here?" Ethan didn't even give the question a moment's consideration, "No way. That stuff happens out in the country, not in the middle of downtown. Not here."

"I dunno, could happen. Oh! like I heard from my cousin’s friend's sister, there was that place down on Pine St, that mom and pop diner? Anyhow, so I guess the health inspector was due to visit, and they were freaking out because they'd never make the grade, right? And then like, overnight, they get one of those… Uh, those little bastards… What're they called? Something like food… a muffin?"

"A Brownie," Ethan supplied wearily.

"Yeah! That's the thing! Anyhow, I guess one of those moves in, and suddenly the next morning their kitchen is totally clean and up to code! So see man, that kind of thing happens around here."

Ethan shook his head. "Don't hold your breath Todd. This place isn't exactly magical."

Ethan had always been vaguely aware of Magic, in the same way one could be vaguely aware that elephants existed. It was a part of life for some people, and sometimes interesting to hear about, but Ethan sure as hell didn't want it in his shop. A Green, he could almost hear his father saying, did not rely on Magic. Hard work, courage and love had their own magic, he would state, and it was all their family ever needed. Ethan held by this attitude dutifully… Not that anything remotely Magical had ever shown up at his door. Life at the shop had been blissfully routine for years, so much so that it was almost easy to forget that Magic even existed to begin with.

"Still, it'd be cool," Todd muttered.

Ethan smirked. "What, you want a dragon to come burn the shop down?"

Todd heaved a sigh. "Well at least then I'd get weekends off…"

Ethan paused, a twinge of guilt running through him. "Look…" He began awkwardly, "I'm… I'm really sorry you've had to work so much lately. It's just, you know, money's tight… I can't really afford to hire…"

"Bro," Todd cut in with a laugh, "Shut the fuck up man. I don't care. I didn't really mean what I said, you know that."

"I… Yeah," Ethan sighed, "I just… Feel bad."

"You always feel bad. Constantly. You're like a little rain cloud of pure downer. Come on, bro, don't take me so seriously. I don't."

"Yeah okay. Just, I don't wanna be that boss, y'know?"

"You aren't dude. Calm down. Sweep or something, that'll cheer you up."

"Great advice. Thanks, Todd." Ethan shot back sarcastically.

"Anytime." Todd replied with cheerful sincerity.

Aggravatingly, as closing hour neared, Ethan really was still sweeping.

There was no real aim. He just skated his broom around the shop, letting his mind wander, trying to keep visions of red ink and out of business signs out of his head. He was startled out of these thoughts however, by a sharp jab to the back.

"Ow! F-Fudge!" He muttered.

He heard Todd creak on his stool. "The spinning wheel?" He drawled lazily.

Ethan wheeled to eye the contraption in question. "Yeah, the stupid thing."

"Goddamn, that's got to be the fifth time this week. You'd think you'd steer clear of that thing by now.”

"You'd think…" Ethan muttered darkly.

He hated that spinning wheel. Hated it. Nearly every day of his life he'd had to dodge its spindle, jutting out into the aisles, taking up precious space. But his mother, and his grandmother, and her mother before that had been enamored with it. Made the place look rustic, they'd said, homey. Made it a death trap, Ethan thought murderously to himself. But still, he couldn't bring himself to remove it. It was a part of the shop. Tradition.

He was still rubbing his sore back when the smell met his nose. He felt his stomach sink. Rotten fruit. Again. Just what he needed. Striding over to the produce, he bent over the bin of peaches and poked at them experimentally. Their flesh gave way, revealing their slick, browning insides, releasing that same putrid odor. Ethan suppressed a groan of frustration.

"Todd!" He called.

"Yeah, what?"

"Did you forget to swap out yesterday's peaches?"

Todd poked his head down the aisle, scowling. "No man. I restocked those today, my own two hands."

"They're friggin' rotten again!"

"Again? That's weird. They looked okay when I stocked them, I guess," Todd shrugged.

"Well, they're garbage now," Ethan sighed.

Grumbling, Ethan seized a trash bag and set about the unenviable task of discarding the moldering peaches. He was so consumed by his frustration that he didn't even hear the bell tinkling on the front door. After a few minutes though, he couldn't help but notice Todd's frantic attempts to get his attention from behind the counter. "Bro!" Todd hissed, "Bro c'mere! C'mere c'mere!"

Ethan wasn't sure why Todd was bothering to whisper, considering that he was also windmilling his arms enthusiastically. With a sigh, Ethan set down his bag and wandered over.

"What is it, Todd?" He asked wearily.

"Check it, bro. Unbelievable," Todd breathed, gesturing down the central aisle.

Ethan followed his gaze. It was a girl. That was unsurprising. Todd never hesitated to point out a shapely looking lady or two, with just as much finesse as he was doing now. Ethan usually didn't humor these gawking sessions, a little too respectful and very much too terrified to scope out women, but this time, he found he couldn't quite tear his eyes away.

She was beautiful. Radiantly, impossibly beautiful.

She was short, but not too short, perhaps a full head below Ethan. Her hair was cropped startlingly, boyishly close, but it was a color that Ethan, though a not poetic sort, could only describe as honey-gold. Though she wore loose, casual clothes; a t-shirt, jeans, a scarf hanging about her neck, she bore them as if they were the finest regalia.

She stood near the coolers, inspecting a drink, and as she moved Ethan found himself taking in even the tiniest aspects of her delicate form. She had slender, perfect fingers. Rosy, cherubic, perfect lips. A pert, perfect nose. Indeed as Ethan stared, he began to realize that just about everything on her was perfect, in a very uniform, depthless kind of way. This idea suddenly changed his awe to unnerved fixation. There was something… uncanny about her.

If you'd asked a man to describe what a perfect woman looked like, aside from her haircut and clothes, they likely would have rattled off her exact attributes. There were no flaws, no quirks, nothing curious or odd on her body anywhere. Not a single freckle, beauty mark, scar, wrinkle. She was of perfect proportion, curvaceous, but not overly so. Her ears were cute ears, her brows were cute brows. Even before he caught sight of her eyes, he could predict their color, a pure brilliant sky blue. The entire effect was one of a lovely woman, to make no mistake, but something struck him as off. She seemed so… generically gorgeous. So… homogenized.

Still, she was a girl, and she was beautiful, and so Todd's next words brought a twist to Ethan's stomach.

"Go talk to her, bro."

Ethan whirled to face Todd. "What!?" He hissed.

"Yeah, dude, go talk to her! One of us has to! We can't let a babe like that walk out the door without saying something!"

"Yes we can! And why me!?"

Todd shrugged. "I know my limits dude. A girl like that? Wouldn't say two words to me. But you've got that whole kicked-puppy thing going on. Girls love that. Go talk to her."

"I… What?"

"Besides, you deserve a break. Maybe if you got a girlfriend you'd stop moping for once."

"I am not going to go over there and hit on her!" Ethan exclaimed, a little more loudly than he'd intended. He froze, panicked for a moment. Had she heard? He snuck a glance at her, but she was still staring impassively at her drink. He could have sworn he heard a snicker though.

"Relax dude. I didn't tell you to go ask her to marry you. Just say something to her."

"Like what!?" Ethan demanded quietly.

"I don't know man, like, "Hey, need help finding anything?" At the very least you gotta go help her out. It's good customer service."

Ethan paused. In a roundabout way, Todd was right. She was a customer, and so far all he'd done was stare at her. His parents would be mortified.

"Okay, well… yeah. I'm going to go help her. But I mean… Just because it's my job," He stammered.

"Sure bro. Good luck. I'll be here, thinking up baby names for you." Ethan scowled and shook his head, but nonetheless gathered his courage and began to approach the mystery girl. He saw her gaze slant over to him, and it hit him like an electric shock. Suddenly Ethan became painfully aware of his every flaw, and imagined a few new ones for good measure. Was he walking funny? Did he always walk like that? How did walking work again?

His suddenly stilted gait carried him to her, and as she stared up at him expectantly, he remembered that now he was supposed to talk. "Hhhh…." He began. It was supposed to be Hi, but the I had jumped ship somewhere between his brain and his lungs. "So, can I… find… anything?"

Somewhere, in the back of his skull, a cruelly rational part of him began dissecting his sentence, and concluded that it was at least missing a verb and a pronoun. It decided that the obvious remedy to this problem was to make him blush furiously. The girl bit her lip. Ethan wasn't sure what this was supposed to mean, but he had a suspicion it meant something, in the mystic language of girl.

"Uh, yeah, no, I'm just looking at the sodas," She replied with a fluttering smile.

She had a soft, lilting voice. The kind you expected to hear raised in song. Just listening to it Ethan had the impression that pan flutes and violins were on standby.

"Oh. Okay. Sodas are… good," Ethan murmured. He could hear Todd's hand hit his forehead all the way from the front of the store.

"Yeah, uh… right. So…" The girl murmured back awkwardly.

"So…" Was all Ethan could manage to reply.

He knew this was his cue to walk away. But he just… couldn't. It was as if something intoxicating was radiating off this girl, like a perfume. It fixed him to his place, denying him the dignity of a hasty retreat. He was struggling for some kind of rational explanation for this when the girl cleared her throat.

"Look," She began. Her lyrical voice had taken on a wearied, flat tone, to very odd effect. "I'm sorry. This isn't your fault."

"Wait, what's not my fault?"

"The awkwardness."

Her bluntness was surprising, but somehow Ethan found himself laughing. "Oh. No. I'm pretty sure it's all my fault. It's kind of what I do."

The girl laughed in return, and it sounded like bells. "No, seriously though. I have this effect on everyone. It's not just you."

Ethan's mouth beat his brain. "Well, yeah, because you're gorgeous."

From the front came the distinct noise of Todd falling off his chair.

To his relief and bewilderment, she laughed again. "Uh huh. I know. It's kind of part and parcel of the whole gig. I'm, uh… Well see, I'm a Princess."

Ethan blinked. Even as his mouth was saying, "What?" His mind was quickly putting the pieces together. It made sense, actually.

Up to now, Ethan had only seen Princesses on the television, generally being paraded as some kind of prize in reality shows. The formula was always the same, a few handsome Princes, some perilous trials, and in the end, a happily ever after, or so the tabloids purported. The Princess in question had always stuck Ethan as more of a prop than a person, bubbly, vacuous, grinning glossily as men risked life and limb in the pursuit of their hands, cooing breathlessly as they were carried away into the sunset like hunted pelts on the back of some ridiculous horse. And they all looked the same. A minor variation in hair or skin color, height, features, but nearly always the same, tame, brand name beautiful. Looking at this girl now, he realized that she fit the same mold perfectly, as though she'd been crafted on the same assembly line.

At any rate, Princesses, like Magic, were something that didn't happen to Ethan Green. So despite instantly believing her confession, it took a few moments for the gears in his head to restart.

"Yeah, so, I guess it's normal that you're… y'know, staring and everything," She muttered, "It's okay. Well actually it's not okay, I mean, it's kind of a pain in the ass, but it's not like you're the only one."

Ethan shook his head. "I… I'm sorry. I just… Why are you in my shop!?" He blurted.

The Princess regarded him frostily, a strange expression on her angelic face. "Excuse me?"

"No! No no, I didn't mean that like, 'Get out of my shop or anything' it's just that… Aren't you guys usually-?"

Her expression only darkened, her long fingers gripping the top of her soda viciously. "Aren't we usually what? Fawning out windows, waiting for our Prince to come? Embroidering our wedding gowns? What are you saying, 'Shouldn't you be in your tower?!'"

"No! No, jeez, no," Ethan cried, holding his hands up placatingly, "I just… You're here, doing… Normal people stuff. I mean, Princesses aren't… Normal."

Somehow, he knew it was the wrong thing the moment he said it. Still, he didn't expect the tears that sprang up in her eyes.

"No. We're not. Thanks for reminding me." She seethed. Roughly, she jammed the soda back into the cooler, and wheeled around. Ethan expected her to storm off, but instead she froze.

"Miss? Please Miss… Uh, or your highness, or… whatever. I'm sorry." Ethan stammered out.

She didn't turn, didn't move.

"Miss? Are you alright?"

He walked as close as he dared to her. She was still fixed in place, and as Ethan watched her, he could see she was barely breathing.

Baffled, he followed her gaze. She was staring, wide eyed, unblinking, at the spinning wheel.

She let out a small, defeated breath. Spoke only two words.

"Oh, fuck."

Then, moving like a woman possessed, she stepped forward, stretched out a hand, and pricked her finger on the spindle. Then dropped like a sack of rocks.

Chapter 2

Ethan gaped for a second, staring at her sprawled body, stepping away from it like it was toxic. It took him a few seconds to find his voice. It took him longer to form actual words.

"Oh fu- Oh sh- Oh God. Oh god oh man. Ohhhhhh god oh man oh god…"

"Bro?" Came Todd's voice tentatively from the front.

"TODD!"

"Whoa, Bro, what!?" Todd called, scrambling out from behind the counter.

"TODD!" Ethan cried again, pointing to her prone body.

"OH SHIT!" Todd yelped, jumping back. "WHAT THE FUCK, BRO!? I told you to talk to her, not club her like a fucking seal!"

"I didn't! I was talking to her, and then she flipped out, and then she… died?"

"OH FUCK, IS SHE DEAD!?" Todd roared.

"I DON'T KNOW! I don't know! I don't know, I just… SEE THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I TALK TO GIRLS!"

Todd let out a small burst of hysterical laughter. "Oh shit, Bro, you're a real lady killer."

"NOT FUNNY!"

"Okay. Okay, just chill, just… Just chill," Todd took a deep breath, ran his hands through his crop of hair, "Okay. First aid right? Do we check her pulse, or… CPR? Mouth to mouth?" He offered vaguely.

"I wouldn't recommend that." Came a dry voice from behind them. Both of them jumped. Todd let out what could only accurately be described as a squeal.

Whirling, Ethan came face to face with the most bizarre looking woman he'd ever seen in his life.

She wasn't quite young, but she wasn't quite old either. Something about her eyes suggested a certain august maturity, but her face had a glossy, flawless quality to it, not unlike the Princess. Her hair was a faint lavender, pulled into a rather intricate bun at the crown of her head. In truth, everything about her was lavender, from her severe, sensible pumps to her glittering, wire rim spectacles. She even seemed to emanate a nearly imperceptible lavender aura. Her clothes smacked of the same sickly hue. Ethan was just a bit at a loss for how to describe them though.

It looked like a pantsuit, tailored by someone given only the barest description of what that entailed, and with a fanciful imagination. Flairs and curlicues and embroideries plagued the thing. Ethan absently made out that her buttons were in fact twee little violet butterflies.

And then of course, there were the wings. Gossamer, gaudy affairs, in the same precise shade of Lavender. They reached above her head, and came to an almost menacing hooked peak. They swallow-tailed beneath her, trailing just above the ground.

Ethan absorbed all of this in just a few stunned seconds. Sheer panic made him a studious observer. As the shock wore off, he felt Todd, gripping his arm so hard he was losing sensation.

"Whathafuckisthat?" Todd squeaked.

The woman… person… thing, straightened her glasses and scowled. "My name is Louise. I'm your Godperson attendant for this juncture," She answered. Her voice was somewhere in a bland, middle range, sterile and professional, the type of voice one chose for answering machine menus.

"Our what?" Ethan breathed.

"Here, take my card." She twiddled her fingers and in a blink of an eye a small card appeared in her hand, lavender of course. As Ethan took it, he noted absently that it gave off a strange, nauseatingly sweet smell.

"Wherethafuckyoucomefrom?" Todd cut in again.

"I teleported. Standard procedure. Much more efficient than flying,"

She stated as if this were self-evident, "Now, before we continue chatting, I have to observe protocol," She cleared her throat, staring Ethan square in the face. Her eyes were god damn lavender colored, "We have received notice that on these premises, a Princess has succumbed to a Curse, and as such as initiated her Trial Phase." She had a remarkable ability for pronouncing capital letters. Everything was said with an inflection of slight annoyance.

"Uh, Miss Godperson… Louise. Ma'am. May I ask a few questions?" Ethan ventured, struggling to tread water.

"By all means."

"Okay. So. Princess?"

"Her." Louise replied flatly, pointing to the girl sprawled on the floor.

"Okay… Curse?"

"The Spinning Wheel's Spindle. A rather old fashioned method. Usually avoided nowadays, the whole Coma business can put Princes off rather a bit, but it was deemed… Necessary in her case. Nonetheless, it was rather hard to trigger. I have to say I'm grateful for your assistance in that matter."

"Assist? I didn't push her into the thing!" Ethan exclaimed.

"Of course not. It would have drawn her in the moment she saw it. All the same, I'm glad you have one lying around. They're hard to come by."

"I… Yeah, sure… Anyhow. Uh… Trial Phase?"

"Ah, now here is where we really talk business. Are you the owner of these premises?" She demanded, fixing Ethan with a piercing gaze.

For a moment, Ethan almost said no. Some part of him still knew it as his parents' house. Their shop. Their home. But no, it was only his now.

"Yes. Yes I'm the owner," He nodded.

"Well then, as such, you are required, by code, to permit the use of these premises for use in the Princess' trials, and house her person until such a time as the trials are complete and a suitable Prince has awoken her."

"Waitwaitwait," Todd chimed in, "Trials? Like… Those crazy fuckin' things we see on TV? Riding up glass hills, and slaying dragons and shit?"

Louise looked at Todd as one might regard a diseased dog. "Yes, sir. Those sorts of trials. It's customary, once a Princess enters her Trial Phase, for Princes to compete for her hand. The onus of hosting these trials always falls on the owner of the-"

"Premises the Princess conks out on," Ethan surmised.

"In the cases of Magically Induced Comas, yes," Louise agreed.

"So you're going to roost a dragon in my SHOP!?" Ethan roared.

"There's no need to become excitable," Louise huffed, "Any and all damages you suffer will be compensated for. Honestly, most people are delighted to host Trials. It can be quite lucrative, you know."

"Lucrative?" Todd mumbled.

"Indeed. If you so choose, many Media outlets are happy to televise the proceedings, and pay a handsome fee for the privilege."

"No," Ethan replied firmly.

"Are you sure? It's quite routine nowadays," Louise replied airily.

"No. No media, no money, no… No trials! I don't want this! Take the girl but leave me alone!" He cried.

A look of frosty severity crossed Louise's face, momentarily contorting it into something that appeared not entirely human. Both he and Todd backed up a step. "You Don't Have A Choice Mr. Green," She intoned, every capital crisp.

"But… But this is my shop! It's my family's shop, it's been ours for generations!" Ethan protested.

"From the minute that girl fainted on your floor, for all intents and purposes, this shop became property of Fate, Mr. Green," Louise insisted.

"You can't…"

"I can. I will. You have very little choice in the matter. What choice you do have, I suggest you exercise wisely." She put firmly. Ethan felt the argument close like a pair of iron doors. "Now, as I said, you can still make a fine profit from this venture-"

"No, I still stand by what I said. No cameras." Ethan pressed. She was right. If this was the only choice he had, he was going to make the proper one. The Greens did not indulge in spectacle. The Greens didn't caper for money. The Greens did not seek fame. These were truths Ethan understood as firmly as his own name.

"Suit yourself," Louise dismissed, "It's not required. All that is required is that you don't impede the process. Do what you like with the Princess' body. Whatever is most convenient. I warn you though, lest you get visions of glory, that kissing her would be ill advised. Or any other kind of… miscreancy with her body, but kissing will have the most adverse effects."

"I… What!? No! God no! I'm not kissing a girl in a coma!" Ethan exclaimed.

"Fuckin' right! That's creepy as balls!" Todd nodded.

"Good. See to it you maintain that attitude and I think we'll have a very amicable partnership." Louise declared cordially.

Ethan was less than reassured. He looked around his shop and fervently began to wish he really had told the Princess to get the hell out, customer service be damned.

"Oh cheer up," Louise pronounced. She sported something that it took several seconds for Ethan to realize was supposed to be a smile. "You're about to be aiding in the pursuit of True Love."

She pronounced the last two words in such a fashion that Ethan almost saw the letters TM floating after them.

"I… Okay?"

"Don't worry, dear," The endearment came off more than a little scripted, "I'll take care of the particulars. All you have to do is sit back and stay out of the way. Who knows, you may even find it entertaining."

"I… But… Okay?"

"Good lad. Now then. I have a lot of business to attend to. We must get cracking as soon as possible, very eager to wrap this case up. That being said, how does tomorrow night, around nine o'clock fetch you?"

"For what?" Ethan asked numbly.

"Well the trial of course!" Louise exclaimed, "Honestly, do keep up."

"Uh, well, it is after close," Ethan reasoned lamely.

"Lovely. Works for both of us. Good to see you're becoming more agreeable." Louise flashed another dubious smile.

"I… Yeah, no problem," Ethan replied dazedly.

"Well, if that's all that sorted, I'll be on my way. You can expect the Dragon sometime around Eight, I expect."

"The… wait, what, seriously!?" Ethan exclaimed.

"Good day!" Louise replied brightly. There was a slight flash, a small sound like rushing air, and then she was gone.

He and Todd stood stock still for what must have been minutes. When Todd finally released his grip on Ethan's arm, he left sweaty fingerprints on his shirt.

"Dragon," Ethan muttered absently, "She said Dragon."

"And you said this shit doesn't happen here!" Todd replied with a faint laugh.

"Why Dragons? Why here? Why… Why me?" Ethan whispered. He looked to Todd frantically. "Did I like, murder someone and forget about it? Kick some kittens? How did my luck get this bad!?"

"Well, you did get this chick zonked," Todd chuckled, prodding the girl with his foot.

"Don't kick her! God, what do we do with her? We can't just leave her here," Ethan moaned. Looking at her, sprawled on the hard floor, he already felt a bit guilty he'd ignored her as long as he had.

"We could prop her up in the corner, tape her eyes open, scare the shit out of shoplifters."

"Todd!"

"Alright, dude, just kidding."

"It'll have to be the couch I guess," Ethan sighed, "Come on, help me move her."

Awkwardly, Ethan bent and slipped his hands under her arms, and Todd obligingly gathered up her legs. Lifting her, Ethan found she was actually rather light. He guessed that Todd could have lifted her on his own, but it would have hurt his pride to admit he himself likely couldn't. Together, they shuffled her into the living room.

"She's not really breathing, Eh?" Todd ventured quietly.

Ethan had noticed the same thing. She looked still as death, but her skin was warm, her face rosy. "Yeah… It's creepy," He grunted as he struggled.

"Fuckin' creepy," Todd echoed.

Gesturing with his head, Ethan guided Todd over to the low, green couch set flush against the stairwell. "I don't know if her heart's beating either," He said as they laid her down.

Todd looked down at her, shook his head. "Nope. Nope I don't think it is."

Ethan shuddered. "So creepy."

Todd nodded, then considered a moment more. "Hey so… Hopefully that means she doesn't have to pee, right?"

"Oh jeez. Oh wow that's gross but, yeah."

"Or eat. Or drink or anything…"

"God, where is that stupid Fairy Godperson when you need her?" Ethan hissed.

"More like Fairy Godbitch. What a cu-"

"Todd!" "Country fried fool, as my grandma used to say," Todd recovered. Ethan shot him a smirk, but looking down at the stranger on his couch, he began to get the sensation that he was sliding down a very steep ravine. In actuality, it was a feeling he'd had for a very long time now, but the pace of his descent had gotten markedly faster.

"Bro? You okay?" Todd ventured quietly.

Ethan looked up, aware he'd been staring into space. "Yeah… I mean, well no, but yeah."

"I hear you. Weird fuckin' day, right?"

"Yeah, no kidding," Ethan laughed softly.

They fell into silence again for a minute. Todd seemed to become aware of his surroundings all of a sudden.

"Hey. I just realized. I haven't been back here in like, years. Man, nothing's changed," He remarked.

"Yeah," Ethan replied vaguely. He knew Todd hadn't. No one had, except for a few well-wishing aunts, uncles, cousins, but even they'd stopped visiting months ago. The Princess was the first person to make use of the couch in ages. It always felt too big to sit on alone.

"So what now man?" Todd asked hesitantly.

Ethan shrugged. "I guess… We just close up. Go to bed, right?"

"That's it? You sure I can't do anything else?"

"No. Wait, yeah," Ethan considered, "Can you… Can you get rid of that stupid spinning wheel for me? Just wrap it in a tarp and stick it in storage or something?"

Todd gaped openly, "Wait, for real?"

Ethan nodded wearily, "Uh, yeah. If it's not too much trouble."

"Hell no! I'd cart that fucking thing to an active volcano if you asked me, bro! But, I mean, I thought you wanted to keep it around. Because of… You know…"

Ethan knew. Some part of it felt like a betrayal, even thinking about discarding it. It was a piece of his memories, something his mother had been fond of… But he HATED it. The thing had stretched his tolerance just by hulking in the corner, but now it seemed it was actively trying to spite him. No more. It had to go.

"Yeah, Todd. I knew I said we should keep it around but… Well that's before I knew the thing was a friggin' Princess trap.," He laughed.

Todd chuckled in return. "It was like a freaking predator man! Waitin' for nubile young Princesses to wander into its clutches. It was probably practicing on you all these years."

"I don't look like a Princess," Ethan pouted.

"Sure, whatever you say, bro." Todd laughed. Turning, he strode on his heel, whistling cheerfully.

Copyright © 2025 by Jean Forest

All rights reserved.

[sethmcc22]

Our Little Blessing In The End Of The War.

In this Tony and Nat doesn’t die in the end game. Just goes into a small week long coma. K/N means Kid Name.

You and Bucky been dating for a while, and you guys fell in love basically at first sight. You were already an Avenger member before, you tagged alone with Steve during the fight against Tony and others because of the Sovia Courts. You and Bucky fell in love instantly, since then you both been dating.

Current time, It was during the fight of Avengers Infinity War. You were beside Natasha helping her, as Bucky and Steve were near each other shooting guns. Suddenly things went quiet, some of the Avengers yelled for their friends. You and Nat looked at each other confused, you ran to go find Bucky. You ran seeing Steve, he was on one of his knees touching the ground.

“Steve?” Your voice shaking. “Where is- where is Bucky?”

Steve looked up, fear and sadness in his face. Then you realized, what he was touching is Bucky. You look around and see others fading away. Fear set in you now as well. You began to cry.

Weeks went by since that day, you felt depressed all the time, but unusually felt sick a lot especially in mornings. You googled your symptoms, realizing you might be pregnant. You quickly left heading to the store, coming home with a box of pregnancy tests. You took it, just waiting for the results. You felt afraid of what the test would say. After 3 minutes past, you looked a it seeing two pink lines. You took another one because you didn’t believe it, same results positive. You grabbed your phone, instantly calling Steve. Once he answered you asked him to come over it’s urgent. A knock comes at your door, you rush opening the door. You let him in, he left to go into the bathroom as he sat on your couch. You walked towards him with two pregnancy tests, you showed him them.

“Wait.. you’re.. pregnant?” Steve said, confusion in his voice,

You nod your head. “Yes.”

Your eyes glossed over as tears started to form. Steve stood up as he took the tests from your hand setting them down. Steve opened his arms giving you a hug. He rubbed your hand contorting you. You balled your eyes in his arms for almost an hour. Once you finally relaxed, Steve and you began to talk.

“It’s Bucky’s.” You said looking down at the tests. “The baby, it’s his.”

Steve already knew, it was obvious. “I know. I know it is.”

“Steve, what am I supposed to do but he is not here because of the blip I’m afraid.” You exclaimed.

Steve sighed. “Don’t be you know Nat and I will easily help you with this baby despite us not having kids we know a lot. I’ll gladly help you.”

You smiled out of relief. “I just feel-” Your words felt stuck in your throat. “Like I- I feel like I’m not gonna be a good mother.”

Steve rubbed your back. “No, No. I have faith in you. I know you’ll be a good mother.”

You smiled at Steve. “But another thing is, how am I supposed to literally tell my kid why their father isn’t here.”

“Time will tell I guess.” Steve responded.

Your first ultrasound came up, and you cried once you saw the baby for the first time. Nat went with you for this ultrasound because you felt awkward with Steve being there. You showed Steve the photos, he felt amazed when seeing them. You all joked around how the baby has Bucky’s forehead. As your pregnancy continued, you got more ultrasounds. You were about to pop almost. That’s what Nat described you, you laughed at it. It was a late night, your water broke. Lucky Nat was spending the night, she rushed you to the hospital. Steve eventually showing up after you gave birth. You were lying in the hospital bed, tears of joy as you held your baby. You had a baby girl, you smiled with joy. You let Nat and Steve hold her as well.

Eventually the time went by, the End Game came, they’ve been collecting stones for couples weeks. Eventually getting the stones all ready, you stayed with the baby at home. You just worried, Steve got your hopes on telling you they might be able to bring Bucky and everyone we all lost back. You hope so, your daughter is now 5 years old. She’s sitting playing with toys as you made dinner. You just couldn’t help to worry.

A knock at the door startled you.

“I’ll get it mommy!” Your daughter ran to the door. You followed behind her.

You both opened the door seeing Steve standing there. “Hi uncle Steve!”

“Hi K/N.” Steve replied.

You looked at him as he smiled brightly. Bucky walked up behind Steve. Steve went inside as well Bucky did. You hugged Bucky tightly. Crying in his arms. Eventually one time, Steve did tell your daughter where her daddy went, who he was. All he claimed was he was kidnapped that’s it. Bucky looked at K/N and smiled.

“Daddy?” She turned her head looking at Bucky.

“Yes- it’s me.” Bucky had tears already in his eyes but now even more from seeing his daughter.

She ran hugging Bucky as he hugged her back. From that day, Bucky always made sure he was there. It was a dream come true you thought, your boyfriend and your guys kid. You both got married shortly after, having your daughter as the flower girl because she begged to be a flower girl anyways. Nat was your brides maid, Steve was the groomsmen.

Thank you for reading. I know it’s not the best but I hope you enjoy!!