#m!a pint sized metal

[asktheevilgeniusesson]

chao chao! chao [heyyy metal you're the same size as me now! we can have so much fun together :D]

The robot perks and swivels its ears twords the shadow chao. Its pupils round out more like a cat being happy and slowly waves with a tilt of its head.

“I guess i an xhao sized now.. what do chao do, then?”

[silver---linings]

Someone made Metal tiny.

"Wait, seriously??" Silver busts out laughing. "That's hilarious! Get karma'd, jerk!"

[anarchywoofwoof]

oh cool i wanna play

i was homeschooled my entire life. literally my entire life - from first grade until i got my GED when i was 18 years old. i have a lot of ~feelings~ about this that i eventually plan to address by way of holding a very long winded and self congratulatory suckfest in honor of myself on this blog

i have roughly 40%-ish hearing loss in my left ear due to recurring ear infections from the time i was 4 weeks old until around my 14th birthday. i also have difficulty tasting things on the left side of my tongue because the infections at one point had eaten away at the nerves in my face. metal as fuck \m/

despite not going to a traditional school, i played baseball as a teenager. also, despite not starting to play until i was 13 years old (when most decently skilled kids start playing at Tee-Ball), i was recruited to play baseball in Germany as part of an international tournament and scouted professionally before hurting my arm and having to shut it down.

last seven folks from my notes:

@genericprofyle @lemonlyre @spinelikericekrispy @sonderdream @hippoedcampus @dormats-town @stubborn-pint-sized-asshole

🦋 If you get this, answer with three facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notifications (anonymously if you wish to). Let’s get to know the person behind the blog 🦋

1. I love reading fiction books

2. I'm a closeted biseual to most people I know yet attempt to make being queer my whole personality

3. I'm a massive animal person

@s0lit4ir3 @plumspider @acuriousconstellation @robinheaney12 @lonelycatsblog @tinybitofhope @achilleanauthor

[apiratewhopines]

Story Summary: When his brother’s best friend calls in desperate need of help, mercenary Killian Jones will stop at nothing to save the woman from his old enemy. Flying halfway across the world to meet Emma Swan was all part of the plan, falling for her not so much.

Between deadly inventions, criminal masterminds, and his feelings, he soon realizes he may be in over his head.

That’s just the way he likes it, really.

Rating: M

Thanks to @motherkatereloyshipper for reading this over and making it better!

2/22 (updates daily)

Smoke Screen

Summary: In which our heroes plan

“Tryna find the right time to tell you

What you might not like to hear”

-Fallen Star, The Neighbourhood

Killian Jones had suffered through many a meeting since starting Jones Consulting with his older brother, but this one may be the end of him. Liam had a system he claimed would maximize effectiveness and limit miscommunication. He usually had PowerPoints and handouts and the expectation that questions would be held to the end. His brother was thorough and organized.

Unfortunately, he was also boring as hell unless you got a few pints in him.

It didn’t help that Killian was coming off a late night with a chatty brunette. The woman refused to get the gentle hints that he wasn’t interested in her, her ex-boyfriend, or her tipsy attempts to forget said ex for a few hours in his arms. As he made his way into the office, he considered never forgiving Liam for dragging him from bed at such an ungodly hour with only a stern warning of bad news.

The stormy winter skies made the walls seem to close in and the lights seem dim. The informal boardroom, which alternately served as a breakroom or war room as the need arose, seemed smaller and crowded when he made his way to the end chair. Barely nodding at his coworkers, he wondered at the group of men who managed to make it from various parts of the city before he could find his way downstairs from the penthouse flat. There were five partners in the business now. The small operation grew as their reputation to deliver against nearly impossible odds spread through word of mouth.

If one were to wander by the discreet entrance to their Mayfair townhouse, it would be impossible to guess at the work going on behind the walls. That was precisely the way they wanted it. Every member of the crew knew the benefit of fading into their surroundings, the protection anonymity provided.

If you were looking for glory and fame, Liam liked to say, take your nonsense somewhere else.

But regardless of trying to keep a low profile, the name Jones Consulting meant results in circles where alliances shifted as quickly as the borders between countries and people paid in precious metals and secrets because everyone knew currencies were fragile things that weren’t worth the paper they were printed on.

Since starting the business two years ago, the men had recovered incriminating documents, retrieved wayward celebrities and kidnapped heirs, buried scandals, brokered trade deals between bitter rivals, secured safe passage across war-torn lands, and guarded treasures of all shapes, sizes, and colors.

If you have an unsolvable and persistent problem, you called Jones Consulting to clean up your mess.

Read the rest on AO3

@teamhook @jrob64 @kmomof4 @klynn-stormz @xarandomdreamx @xsajx @stahlop

[teenyfish]

Marine Biology Story of the Day #4

Do ya’ll know how deep the ocean is? 

I mean, have you ever just sat and thought about it?  I’m sure you have.  I know a lot of people on tumblr have thalassophobia, or fear of vast and deep oceans.

I have the opposite, I have claustrophobia.  You will never catch my ass in a deep cave, diving or otherwise.  I don’t do well in elevators.  But I love the open air, and I love the open sea--as long as there is light.  

When I was on my Pacific research trip, we traveled over 2000 nautical miles across a deep, deep ocean.  Our voyage went from Honolulu to San Francisco.   Now, theoretically, I understand how deep the ocean is, hell, the Pacific ocean is home to the Challenger Deep, which is the deepest point in the Marianas Trench, and therefore, the whole world.  It is 10,929 m deep, which is deeper than Mt. Everest is tall. 

Here’s a diagram to give you the heeb jeebs. 

But that doesn’t bother me.  So when I got a chance to jump into the Pacific ocean, out in the literal middle of it, 1000 miles away from Hawaii and the West Coast, you can bet I did. 

Now, post jump, I immediately went to the science lab and checked the depth on our computer.  We had all just jumped into water that was over 4,000 meters deep. Now, that’s no challenger deep, but think about that real real quick.  That’s over 2 and 1/2 miles of open water between my little floating body and the sea floor. 

Deepest damn pool I’ve ever been in. I’m glad I didn’t check the depth before I jumped. 

That being said, because we were over the deep ocean for most of our journey, we got to sample a lot of cool deep sea fish. Here are a few of my favorites: 

I’ve already mentioned our friends the myctophids, or the lanternfish with their bioluminescent photophores 

Deep Sea Hatchetfish, who use their mirrored sides to reflect light from above and can completely disappear from view. They also have photophores on their tummies that take the color of the light from above and reflect it out below them, so they blend in with surface light.  They can almost turn completely invisible. 

And the Deep Sea Dragonfish or Viperfish, which is a type of angler fish that has their light filled lure on their chin. 

How did we catch these monsters of the deep? With an itty bitty neuston net. This net is often used for sampling plankton, but we used a winch to plunge it 1000 m deep.  Contrary to popular belief, most deep sea “monsters” are actually very small, and this is because not a lot of food gets down into the depths, so these critters may go months between a good meal (Dragonfish), or may subsist on “marine snow” or the nutrients and decay that float down from above.  Others, like the lanternfish, migrate up to the surface to feed on the zooplankton there. 

Beside the creepy fishies and dark depths, the reason why the deep sea and the open ocean is sort of the “last frontier” for exploration is because of the crushing pressure.  In space, you don’t have that issue, so humans can leave their vehicles in “relative” comfort.  This is because of the relentless crushing pressure--the deepest scuba dive is only about 332 m--compare that to the 4000 m deep water we were swimming in. To show this effect, our chief scientists had us drop a bag of pint size Styrofoam cups down to the seafloor.  This was the result when we brought them back to the surface (and yes I did decorate mine).

So imagine the amount of metal needed to protect a human body from this kind of immense crushing. 

Now the vehicles are out there--it is possible to even go to the Challenger Deep now.  Will I ever go down there?  I don’t know.  It’s not the vastness that scares me--on the contrary, for me, its the claustrophobia and the fear of being crushed or trapped in a tiny submersible with no way to come back up and no hope of rescue (they don’t have bathrooms ya’ll, you gotta wear a diaper.  They also don’t have much in the way of legroom.)

But if I ever get offered the opportunity?  Can I pass up going where very few have gone before, to see animals that no one has ever witnessed? 

Maybe the marine biologist in me would win out.  

Next time, we gonna talk more sharks because I just love them so much, and later, we will talk about our less deep, much less scary, coastal ocean communities. And as always if you have any questions, PLEASE don’t hesitate to ask. 

[youarejesting]

Limited Edition.7 Shattered

[FULL MASTERLIST] [Limited Edition Master list]

Beta: N/A Rating: All audiences Genre: Fantasy, Comedy, Fluffy Fluff, Adventure. Pairing: Bts x Friend!Reader Words: 1.4K

Summary: It is your first time buying proper merchandise, there are new chibi figurines and the first person to order will recieve a limited edition set. But what happens when BTS have gone missing without a trace and a few days later you receive your package. The box says congratulations, you open to find your limited edition figures, they look so lifelike. OH WAIT! it’s cause they are.

Announcement: the new TINY TAN video is adorable!!!

“Finally you are out, we are starving?” Taehyung whined. 

“Sorry, I will get your ingredients” selecting one of the ziplock bags from the freezer you looked at the tiny portions, handing it over to Yoongi. 

Seokjin asked, “why are you crying?”

“I called Mr. Kang Jungho and he said they aren’t coming for you, he admitted he did this?”

Yoongi who had touched your hand in concern and empathy backed away in disgust. 

“You don’t have to lie, I get it your favorite Kpop group living with you acting friendly and cuddly” he sighed “honestly I thought you were cool and we could hang out without it being weird.”

“What’s going on?” Namjoon asked, looking at  Yoongi in confusion. 

“She is a sasaeng, Kang warned us in his email that she might try to keep us forever and lie to us about not being contacted or that the company had given up on us.”

They all seemed to realize something and stepped back. You pressed your lips together muting your denial. Pleading your case against Mr. Kang would only make things worse. 

You nodded “okay” you walked out leaving the room, taking a collection of snacks and water. Jacket and keys in hand, you left the house shutting and locking the doors behind you. You went out to the mall and scolded yourself for thinking about buying them things you thought they would like.

The bitter feeling didn’t pass, you stayed out later than you should have and when you came back, they were asleep. Lifting the house you took it to your roommate’s room, she was away visiting family so you were able to leave them on her desk.

You left them more water and food and walked away shutting the door. You wouldn’t disturb them, not when they don’t want anything to do with you. Taking a deep breath you laid down in your bed, sending emails to the BIGHIT.

They were all being declined, you had obviously been blocked from messaging the company. One day past and you entered the room with more food to hear them on the phone with Mr. Kang.

“It makes sense that she is lying I am doing everything I can to get you back”

“Well BIGHIT is a big company send a private Jet, I will have them at the airport in a heartbeat, Mr. Kang,” You scoffed “Wouldn’t want them to be with a crazy Sasaeng, would we?”

“Of course, we will have a Jet ready for them by tomorrow,” Mr. Kang said “I can see this is taking a toll on your mental health”

“Sure, great. What time, what terminal, what airport?” You sneered “Get it done.”

You stormed out to your room and sat on the bed, you were trying to hold it together but the tears were so hot. With a soft sigh, you went to the kitchen bench and sat on the tiles with a pint of ice cream that you demolished listening to ‘We Are Bulletproof: The Eternal’.

Something about the way they said ‘We are not seven with you’, made you feel like they actually cared about you. Clearly you had thought wrong. You didn’t notice that Jungkook had stepped left the room and was watching you sob grotesquely. Turning off the song and throwing the headphones you were packing up wiping your eyes as your phone began to ring.

“What do you want?’ You snapped into the phone putting it on speaker.

“The boys said you had put them in another room, they don’t trust you now do they?” You could hear the amusement in his voice. “Take them to the airport, I will tell them, you canceled the tickets, or don’t take them. Either way, you are the bad guy”

“Listen, you know I don’t care if they hate me I am going to get them back to Korea and when we expose you, you will be fired” you threatened

“Try your best I have blocked all your calls to the company so you won’t be able to contact anyone” you placed the dishes in the drying rack. 

“You can’t hide the truth forever” you shouted as the phone beeped, he had hung up. You turned only to see Jungkook’s retreating figure. The young and now tiny man thought he was stealthy but you were very observant. 

“Jungkook?” The way your voice called sounded full of defeat made you cringe. Jungkook’s face appeared around the corner looking guilty. His hair fell in its usual coconut-like shape. 

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to listen to your conversation.” He said and you heard a small sneeze. Walking slowly around the counter to see the entire group of young men shuffling in ᵗᶦⁿʸ.

Hoseok looked devastated eyes watering which set off Jimin and even Jungkook’s eyes spilled over helpless to his hyungs emotions. You wanted to coo, at the sight of the boys running towards you their eyes misted and little arms outstretched the pressed their faces into your knee and spluttering their apologies.

“Seems I was wrong and I am sorry?” Yoongi tried to act cool and it made you smile. 

“We are so sorry?” Hoseok whined and you sniffed wiping your eyes from the emotional moment. 

“Hey it’s okay, imma get you home and to your correct size” you sighed scooping them up into your arms and carrying them to their little house. 

“Can we have some hot water?” You nodded moving their house back to your room. 

The boys were feeling quite upset by the recent events, they felt betrayed and guilty for hurting you. That night you heard the door to their home open and you turned blinking tiredly. “What’s wrong?”

Taehyung has a blanket in his hand and a sad expression, you blinked concerned. “Can I sleep beside you?” Taehyung asked and you hummed reaching your hand out, he climbed on and you placed him on the pillow beside you. 

You held your hand there and he cuddled against it tired. 

Without the boy's knowledge you were trying to get accepted for a loan to get the boys back to Korea, the thing is you were not exactly rich and your job was a YouTuber live streamer. 

Thankfully your tiny tan videos were gaining a lot of popularity so you decided to ask them, “hey would you be interested in recreating a music video?”

It was a bit of a stretch but perhaps you could get enough revenue to go over seas. They agreed dancing, rapping and singing adorably for the camera. People praised your cgi animation skills. 

By two months you had just enough to get to Korea but you needed a little more, the boys did interviews and mukbangs and they continued practicing some new songs for when they were normal again. 

You got approved for a loan and was ecstatic, taking the time to pack and look at the boys. You took their house and had the boys in your jacket. 

You had to go through a metal detector. And put your things in a tray. You took the tray and sat on a near by chair unbuckling your heels. While the boys ran stealthily under the line of chairs to the other side where you went through and took a seat to put on your shoes again. 

You got onto the plane and was in first class in a private pod where the boys could run around freely. They shared your inflight meal and slept on your lap half the way. 

Namjoon has secretly gotten in contact with Adora and was hoping everything went well, and that she would turn up to collect them. 

“When you arrived she was there with a sign with your name on it” she looked confused and lead you to a hire car. 

“You haven’t happened to have seen the boys have you, it was strange to have them contact me and still be in hiding, and it’s such a strange request”

“Well we thank you for going to all this trouble it is really important” You breathed blushing talking with Adora was super intimidating. She was so pretty and elegant and you felt so plain beside her.

Shuffling your scuffed boots looking at her pristinely shined kitten heels. “Alright, I don’t know why the boys are in hiding, or why Namjoon messaged me wanting for me to take you to the figurine factory. But I won’t question it, as long as it gets them to come home.”

“Thank you very much!” You said nervously, “it really will help them return”

Tags:  @victory0461 @gqmf-bangtanmama​ @simplymemyself​ (please make sure your tag option is selected in your settings)

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[paipayaseeds]

The bomb did its work and she watched as, one by one, the Exisals deactivated. Kokichi was less than thrilled with this development while everyone else seemed to be in various degrees of disbelief. That is, right up until Shuichi explained it to them. Her eyes flickered to Maki and, sure enough, the assassin had wasted no time in going after the pint-sized leader. Crap, she had forgotten about her.

Gathering all her strength, she ran as fast as she could in Maki’s intended destination, her throat still burning from her episode. Her heart stopped when the assassin’s hand closed on Kokichi’s still bruised throat and she put on a burst of speed that surprised even her.

Thankfully, some miracle enabled him to break free of her hold and he sprinted off back through the Death Road of Despair. Before going after him, she rammed into Maki with all her strength, hopefully throwing her off balance and causing the distance between pursued and pursuer to be lengthened. Skidding to change direction, she took off in Kokichi’s direction, staying at high alert for the traps that littered the pathway.

She had never been a fast runner and even now she could feel her lungs burning and her legs cramping up. But she staunchly ignored the discomfort and tried to force herself to go faster. She needed to get to Kokichi. To save him from Maki but also from himself. She was NOT going to let him sacrifice himself. Not by a long shot! Spurred on by this, she put on another burst of speed and forced herself keep her eyes peeled for him.

"S/o, go back!" Growling out, she somehow managed to speak in between steady, but shallow breaths. "I'm telling you this for your safety!" Half-true. Knowing her, she'd be a stubborn one, furthermore; a hard one to get rid of and if she had just given up, it'd be much easier for Maki to kill Kokichi. "You don't want to watch this...!" Maki spoke as if she was more than positive that she was going to get Kokichi and kill him.

Kokichi could feel sweat perspiring at the back of his neck, for reasons more than one; the fear of death, and the fact he had been sprinting down the tunnel, all the while avoiding the traps stuck in awkward positions at cause to the hammers. Kokichi started laughing, in a forceful, yet panicked voice, he reasoned with the angry assassin.

Well, he tried to. His reaction to Maki calling out S/o's name had been delayed, "M- Maki, c'mon! Just give up, you're never gonna-" Suddenly paling, time seemed to stop — "Huh? S/o..?" Kokichi missed a step at the consequence of his mind going straight to his heart —

— and he somehow fell off the cliff of the wired floors, paling, trembling hands somehow catching the diamond-crossed wire he was once standing on.

"Fuck!" He exclaimed, squinting eyes narrowing as he pulled himself up; thankfully he had enough time to pull himself up with his likely fractured fingers. "S- S/o, what are you doing!? She's crazy, she'll kill you if you s- stop her!" Kokichi couldn't express how relieved he was to see S/o, but he quickly yelped as he felt his grip loosening from the emotion. "I g- got this! N- nishishi!" with his voice weakened from his desperate crawling back onto the metal platform, he still managed to force out his signature laugh.

Maki gritted her teeth, legs going faster in an attempt to make up for the slam S/o had granted on the assassin. In a leap of 'indistinguishable urge for murder', Maki jumped and grabbed the large chain connecting to the chain cage that slowly rose up. Using it for momentum, she managed to jump to the other side, landing directly in front of Kokichi who had only half his body on the platform.

Kokichi looked up at Maki in feigned nervousness, letting her think she had the upper hand but really, he had a Plan B. "Aha... You got me." with his eyes flickering to S/o behind Maki's legs, he gulped; going over his choices and made-up-on-the-spot plan carefully.

"Why the hell did you do it, you sadistic bastard? What was your reason for the killing game?" He rolled his eyes, here was the heroic closure speech between the hero and the villain.

[newnewyorker93]

Blueprints for a Rescue

read on ao3 here

Pepperony Week 2020 • Day 1: battle couple

Summary: Tony gives Pepper something special for their 1st wedding anniversary, and Pepper makes an important decision.

—

“Hey, Pep! Do you have a minute?”

Pepper looked up from where she was sitting, curled up on the living room floor with baby Morgan lying on her stomach next to her. Morgan was giggling and shrieking excitedly as she grabbed for the toy Pepper held out for her - a plush platypus, a gift from Uncle Rhodey and currently one of her favorite toys; its beak let out a very satisfying squeak! whenever she managed to squeeze it tight enough in her tiny fists. The two of them were so engrossed in their little game that Pepper hadn’t even noticed Tony entering the room but there he was now, standing next to the coffee table. He had something held behind his back, a thick roll of paper, and he was tapping it against the back of his leg while doing that shift-shuffling move with his feet that Pepper knew meant he was nervous about whatever it was he wanted to tell her.

Instead of answering his question directly, she instead addressed Morgan. “What do you think? Should we see what your silly father is up to this time?” The baby gurgled happily in response and tried to roll over, a move she hadn’t quite mastered yet, and Pepper gave her back a quick rub in acknowledgement of the attempt before looking back up at Tony with an inviting smile. “Sounds like a ‘yes’ to me.”

“Are you sure?” Tony asked, hesitating slightly. “I'd hate to interrupt tummy time.”

Pepper laughed. "Morgan's got a very full schedule today, but I think we can squeeze you in."

“Oh good. I've got something for you. A present, actually. For our anniversary.”

Pepper stopped rubbing Morgan’s back, a puzzled expression crossing her face. “It’s not our anniversary.”

“I know.”

“Our anniversary is next week.”

“I  know.”

"But you're giving me a present today?"

"A stunningly accurate summation of the situation, yes. Astute as always, pepper pot!" Tony was teasing her now, but Pepper could tell there was an undercurrent of real nervousness behind his words. His voice softened, then, as he explained, “It’s just, this is- well, is about to be- our first anniversary, and I want to get it right, and given my, shall we say, mixed track record on gifts…” He trailed off, giving Pepper a second to fill in the blank. She did a quick mental inventory of Tony’s various ‘surprises’ over the years - when he got it right, he got it really right, and when he didn’t...well when he didn’t a team of construction workers ended up getting hired to rip a hole in their wall so a 15-foot-tall stuffed bunny could be maneuvered through. So yeah, maybe his concern wasn’t entirely unwarranted, although whatever this was at least already had the advantage of fitting inside the house. Evidently enough of this thought process could be read on Pepper’s face because Tony nodded in agreement before continuing. “See, you get it. Hence, my brilliant solution! I give you your present a week early, and then I’ve got time to put together a plan B in case you don’t like this one!”

“And if I do like it?” Pepper asked, amused and touched by Tony’s mildly convoluted approach to problem solving.

“Oh, in that case I will…um, still have to find something special to give you on the day of…” Tony scratched the back of his head, a sheepish expression on his face. “I really didn’t think that part through, did I? Although In my defense, this is my first go at a wedding anniversary.”

“Hmm, fair. You’d better get used to it though,” Pepper teased. “You’re going to have a lot more of them to figure out.”

“Yeah…” A soft happy smile lit up Tony’s face, the kind that made the corners of his eyes crinkle up and he was lost for a moment, thinking about that.

“So,” Pepper eventually prompted, “do I get to actually see my pre-anniversary present?”

“Yes! Right. Of course.” Tony moved aside the few knick-knacks left out on the coffee table and unrolled the papers he’d been holding behind his back onto it, revealing a stack of technical drawings. He gestured for Pepper to scoot forward and take a look. "I made you a suit! Well, to be more precise, I designed you a suit."

Pepper examined the figure on the top page and frowned. Armor would be a generous description for whatever this was, as it looked more like a bikini that just happened to be made out of metal rather than anything meant to be in any way protective. It wasn’t until she looked up, ready to indignantly lay into Tony because what the fuck, that she caught the tell-tale mischievous twinkle in his eyes and realized what he was doing.

“Oh god, babe, you should see your face right now!” Tony crowed. “Just a little joke to break the tension,” he reassured Pepper, “I mean, come on, it’d be completely useless as armor like this, no defensive coverage at all. Although I'm sure we could find something else to use it for… Yes? No? You're smiling, Pep, I can see it!” She was smiling, biting back a laugh because it was just so Tony, getting his anxiety out by completely designing and drawing out by hand an entire prank suit of armor. “We'll file that one under maybe, then… But seriously, as much as I enjoy a bit of pin-up Pepper, this-” he pulled aside the top sheet with a dramatic flourish, unveiling a set of schematics for a suit that looked much more like his own Iron Man armor, if slightly more feminine, “-is your real present, should you choose to accept it." 

Tony sat himself down on the floor across the table from Pepper, giving her some space to study the blueprints more closely. After a few moments of forcing himself to sit perfectly still he scooped Morgan up off the rug and snuggled her up to his chest, letting his daughter’s squirming distract him from the otherwise irresistible urge to start fidgeting and drumming his fingers against his leg as he waited for Pepper’s verdict.

“This is…wow.” Pepper didn’t even know where to begin. She was awed by the sheer scope of the project, at the amount of time Tony must have put into making this for her - there were pages and pages of plans, intricate renderings of every piece of the suit from helmet to gauntlets to boots and every bit in between, all painstakingly (and gorgeously; with so much of his work done in holograms and machinery, it was easy to forget how much of an artist Tony really was) hand-drawn and neatly labeled down to the most precise measurements. “How… You drew all of this?”

Tony shrugged. “I’ve had the image in my head for years, this was just letting it all out, finally. Like an exorcism.” Pepper cocked her head at that and Tony laughed. “Ok, maybe that’s not the best metaphor, but you know what I mean. Besides, it was kind of nice to go analog again, break out the old pencil and paper. And it wasn’t all me! Morgan helped too.”

"Oh really?"

"Yep! Very helpful design critic, our daughter. Here, I'll show you." Tony flipped forward to a sheet that displayed detailed close-up and exploded views of the suit's helmet. "She really liked this part, see?" He pointed out the signs of Morgan's interest - a wrinkly spot on the corner of the page where the baby had clearly drooled on the paper, and a few smudges the exact width of her tiny fingers streaked right across the center of the main drawing. "Tried to grab your helmet right off the page!"

While Pepper fondly examined this father-daughter collaboration, Tony turned his attention to Morgan, giving the pint-sized engineer a playful bounce in his arms. “You really are your Daddy’s little girl, aren’t you?” Morgan smooshed her hand onto Tony’s face in response and he pretended to nibble at the tips of her fingers, making her (and Pepper) laugh. “You want a suit too, baby girl?”

Pepper stopped laughing at that and looked sternly at her husband. "Tony, please tell me you aren't…"

"Of course not," Tony retorted, making sure to sound appropriately scandalized at the very notion. “I told her, I said, not until you’re at least six-” he waited for Pepper to glare, right on cue, then finished with an impish grin, “-teen.”

Pepper rolled her eyes at that, but affectionately, and focused back on the schematics. “What’s this mean, here?” she asked, pointing out the title block at the corner of the page.

“Oh, that’s what I’ve been calling her, Rescue.” Tony explained. “You can change if you want something different though!” he hurriedly added. “Maybe something a bit flashier - you don’t know how tempted I was to go with Iron Maiden; a bit more my speed than yours, of course, but you’re welcome to it. Anyway, I just kept coming back to that first time I saw you suited up, remember? In the Mark 42 armor, how you saved me…” How you’ve saved me so many times, in so many ways over the years, he thought, but left unspoken. “It’ll still have all the usual defensive and attack capabilities, of course, and we can add in whatever fancy tricks and toys you want, but the primary intent is, well, rescue.”

“Did you start building it already?”

“No, I-” Tony’s eyes met Pepper’s and she could see the vulnerability there, the kind he only ever let her see. “I did this for you, Pepper, only for you, and it’s your choice. It doesn’t need to go any further than this, it can just be some art for our bedroom wall, if that’s all you want it to be. But I needed to show it to you either way. So…what do you think?"

Pepper traced her finger lightly over a little inset drawing on the last page of the blueprints. It was an image of Iron Man and Rescue flying next to each other, more of a sketch than a schematic really (although, knowing Tony, more likely than not still to scale and accurate in all technical aspects). There was probably some mundane reason for that picture to be there, maybe to show a size comparison between the suits, but all Pepper could think of as she looked at it was Tony sitting at his worktable in the garage, lovingly drawing the two of them twirling through the air together. Maybe telling Morgan about it, spinning her stories of her parents as knights in shining armor, off to save the world. She could see how much he wanted this - for her, for them - in every line, in every detail so lovingly rendered, and to her surprise she realized she really did want it too.

They’d talked so much, over the years, about the negative side of Tony and his suits - the obsession, all the ways he’d hidden away and almost lost himself in them - but that’s never been the whole story. There’s freedom there, and joy too and this...this, she understood, was Tony trying to share all that with her. It wasn’t insecurity or a distraction, it was calm and careful - and beautiful. Invention born out of love, not fear. And just like that, Pepper knew what her answer was. She shifted her gaze back towards Tony’s tentative, hopeful face. “I think…” she gave him a soft smile and nodded. “Yes, Tony, I’ll be your Rescue.”

[migleefulmoments]

Alright, who wants to bet that the tinhats will say Darren’s outfit at the GQ thing tonight was “gay”? I’m giving them til lunch tomorrow to call him out for “mocking the queer community” by “wearing something so obviously gay while pretending Mia is his wife.”

Oh no...they haven’t but what is super interesting is that Abby hated the outfit but some other people liked it and because they weren’t “Nonnies”, she backed down and pretended like she loves how “subjective” fashion is when previously she would attack anyone who disagreed with her- also she blames all fashion don’ts on Ashley rather than Darren with really annoys me. They both make the decisions together. 

I prefer him in a tighter fit but wearing the same thing every day would be boring.  The suit looked so shiny well under the bright lights but in IG videos taken during the party, the sheen of the fabric is quite pretty.  

zozzledsheba I am just thrilled to see him in Kim Jones, nothing against Balmain and Oliver Rousteing, but I love what Kim does for man’s fashion (and with Dior) and I just love love love this look, also with the sash draped around and you see the gradient 😍 god I love cloths.

I don’t known if this is punishment for the L word (having to stand next to her dressed like that should be punishment enough) I assume with D being the pint size he is they can’t just whip this up in 3 days as this one, unlike the maroon suit, is fitted. I also think that the L word premiere was a last minute event M needed to show people what a good ally she is with the offensively themed night, unlike this, which has probably been on his schedule for at least a few weeks now.

ajw720 I love how subjective fashion is, and that is what makes the world interesting, because I HATE this look beyond reason.   But I am happy to see others love it.  On the ring, it just feels too deliberate to me that he has an accessory that requires he show that hideous piece of metal off, perhaps not a punishment for Monday as perhaps pre-planned (you never know, this was a runway look but we don’t know when AW picked it for him), but it was picked in my opinion for that reason.

oldladyklainer asked: I just saw a recent picture of Darren. He should fire the stylist who made him wear that blue 'shmattah' they call a suit and use the scarf to keep his fake wife quiet. Usually, Darren looks dapper in his clothes, especially if they have been tailored to fit him, but this outfit rates an "oy vey". OLK/steph

Ajw answered: It might be one of my least favorite D RC looks ever.  But the funny thing is, for as many people who hate it, there are some that love it.   I think it is absolutely awful.  I hate the color, the fit, the scarf is frankly stupid and it does not look better when he wraps it around himself (and yes would be better suited to keep her quiet). And the material looks wrinkled. Just not a fan at all.

Good think he is very handsome.

notes-from-nowhere. There. Much better.

ajw720 @notes-from-nowhere​ I don’t agree, not much better. I think it is almost worse.

[elapsed-spiral]

Mark Means Business - First Chapter! (M/M gay comedy “romance” novel)

I may have already mentioned(!) but I wrote a book! Here’s the first chapter for anyone interested in checking it out. Warnings for explicit language and content (in ch 2). If you like what you read, search for “Mark Means Business” on Amazon to read chapter two for free as well! 

If you’re a fan of funny but awful characters and shows like It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia, Black Books and Bojack Horseman, Mark Means Business might be what you’re looking for. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1

Simon

(Wednesday Afternoon)

The crowd roars. 

The stage lights cook him until sweat is dripping off his clammy chin. 

Girls make desperate grabs at his legs, their make-up streaked from sobbing his name. 

He grabs the microphone stand, metal hot in his palm, opens his mouth and-

“Ground control to Geoff, come in Geoff.”

 “Who’s Geoff?” Simon looks up, his arms still buried in the rack of floral nightgowns.

“You are,” Leah says, “according to your name badge.”

“Oh, yeah, I left mine at home.”

“Least you’re not Ethel today.”

He makes a point of straightening the badge. Leah ignores him in favour of judging his progress tidying the nightgowns.

“You remember how to count, yeah?” she asks. “School’s not that long ago.”

“I got distracted.”

“You’re not winning employee of the month any time soon, Pratt.”

“Lucky they don’t have that here.” He yanks a few size 8s from the middle and shoves them to the front of the display. “S’your fault for showing me up.”

“It’d be pretty bloody stupid, slacking off when I’m gonna be a graduate manager.”

“See, this is why you went to uni, Leah.” He wags a rogue hanger for emphasis. “You’ve got that wisdom.”

“Cheek of you, giving your future boss lip.”

“Could we keep dating if you were my boss? Isn’t that like an abuse of power or something?”

“It’s Paul and Tompkins lingerie department Si, not the army. Reckon we’re fine.” She bats his arm away before he’s got it halfway around her waist, grabs the hanger and gives him a whack. “Back to work, slacker.”

“Yes boss.” He diligently reorders more nightgowns while she picks up a pair of stray knickers and slips them back in their pack. It’s not long before he feels his thoughts stray.

She shoots him a sidelong look. “What?”

“I was thinking about the gig.”

“Course you were. Tonight the night? Think any record labels will have caught wind of it?”

He gives the nightgowns an unnecessarily rough shove to make more room on the rail.

“A boy can dream.”

“Dream being the keyword.” She purses her lips like she’s tasted something sour. “Simon-”

“Oi, no negativity,” he says. “I’m all about visualising success nowadays. Visualise your goals and they’ll happen, right? That’s what New Age people do.”

“New Age people?” He knows he’s lost her from the way her words start dragging. 

“Yeah, like Madonna and that.” He follows her gaze and spots a leather jacketed figure across the aisle flicking squirrely looks around, arm clasped over a bulging shopping bag. Simon and Leah exchange a knowing look. 

“Think I’ll go and check if that customer needs any assistance,” Leah says. 

Simon sidles over to the thermal vests to keep in earshot, resisting the urge to turn and watch proceedings. 

“Can I help?” Simon clamps his mouth shut to keep from snorting at Leah’s sunny tone. 

“Yeah. Looking for some lingerie.” The stranger’s accent is Northern, though Simon’s clueless as to where. 

“For a special lady, I assume?” Leah asks a little mockingly. Simon disguises a laugh with a cough. 

“Let’s start with her,” the stranger says. “I can always come back for something skimpy for me next payday, eh Leah?” 

She gives a surprised laugh. “What sort of thing does she like?”

The stranger clicks his tongue in thought. “Red ‘n’ racy.”

“Paul and Tompkins’s probably not your best bet. We do have some nice silky sets in at the moment, though.” 

Simon shuffles further right as they head towards the silk and lace collection behind him. He hears the snick of hangers on a rail. 

“What size is she?” Leah asks. 

“I’d say about your size-”

Simon spins around before the words have left the stranger’s mouth. He registers waist length black hair and a battered leather jacket, boots and jeans, all in black. Sharp brown eyes narrow with amusement in a square face dominated by a Roman nose. After a quick glance at his name badge, the man returns Simon’s look keenly. 

“You alright, Geoff?” Roman Nose asks faux politely. 

Simon feels his nostrils flare. Leah looks ready to make a warning grab for his arm but he sidesteps her, stomping closer to the man. 

“What’s in your bag?” Roman Nose opens his mouth, evidently ready to bullshit, but Simon plows on. “You planning to buy that lot?” He jerks his head at the till bank. “Lemme show you where you can pay.”

“How kind.”

“Just an oversight, shoving it all in your bag like that, yeah?”

“Absolutely.” Roman Nose darts looks between Simon and Leah, grin growing. “Flirting with your girlfriend though? Totally intentional.”

Simon can’t track what happens next. Leah growls a protest as he launches himself at Roman Nose’s retreating back. Roman Nose’s boots squeak on the lino as he legs it to the back exit. Threatening to wind himself on a stand of night cream, Simon barrels after him, ignoring Leah’s warning yells and the gasps from old dears browsing the tights display. His knee starts twinging when he gets onto the rain soaked street, but he sets his teeth against the pain, spots a trail of abandoned thongs and follows them into Soho. 

He turns into a side street and sees Roman Nose in the distance, legs akimbo as he pounds down the pavement, splashing through puddles. 

“Oi!” Simon yells. Roman Nose accelerates. “Oi, crackhead! I’m talking to you!”

Simon sucks in a breath and imagines he’s tearing down a football pitch, ignoring how his polyester trousers chafe. Roman Nose leads them into an alleyway littered with abandoned pint glasses and cigarette butts. He closes the distance as Roman Nose staggers to a halt. 

The man offers him an unnervingly broad grin as he struggles for breath. “M’more of a whizz man, actually.”

Simon makes to charge at him when Roman Nose yanks a silky black bra out of his bag, winding his arm back as though ready to lob it. Simon instinctively flinches and Roman Nose starts laughing like a stalling, chuntering engine. 

“Well, that doesn’t bode well for the lovely Leah, does it?” Roman Nose asks. 

Simon stomps to a halt inches from the man, eyes threatening to cross with the proximity. “You fancy a slap?”

“Always,” Roman Nose says. The sour tang of unbrushed teeth and stale alcohol wafts hot on Simon’s face. He takes an instinctive step back but returns Roman Nose’s intent stare. “Anyone’d think you were having fun.”

His jaw clenches. “What?” 

“Nice being outside, in’t it, getting some air. Lovely and fresh after the rain too, really shifts the piss smell.” Roman Nose jerks his head towards the end of the alleyway. “You done much exploring in Soho? Heartily recommend checking out the girls off Brewer Street, they give great massages.” Simon can hear the air quotes. “Leah might give you a bollocking for that though, eh Si?”

The name makes his stomach twist. He thins his mouth to keep from asking how the man knows his name and looks at his bulging shopping bag instead. Roman Nose clutches the handles. 

“Think you’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty, Si.” The man takes a few swaggering steps backwards down the alleyway. “Stay out any longer and your boss might reckon you’re slacking off. We can’t have that.”

“Who the fuck’re you?” 

Roman Nose’s eyes crease in apparent delight. 

“Me? I’m an absolute bastard. Anyway,” the man wafts a dismissive hand, “off you fuck, back to tidying nighties. I’m late for taking over the world. Toodle loo!” Roman Nose gives him a quick, puckered air kiss before spinning around and charging away. 

Simon catches himself before he can go pelting after him, glowering at the spot Roman Nose had occupied, while waiting for his heart to stop thudding. 

Swallowing against the dryness in his mouth, Simon blinks hard to try and clear his thoughts before retracing his steps. He stoops to collect each abandoned thong and bra he encounters, pointedly ignoring the baffled looks he gets from people on their fag breaks as he loops them over one wrist. 

When he reaches P&Ts, he turns and studies the street one last time before heading inside, forehead furrowed hard enough to risk bringing on a headache. He slopes over to the fitting rooms to grab some spare hangers and starts rehanging everything while events cycle in his head like an action replay. 

“Took your time. Burying the body?” 

He jumps despite himself, recovering quickly by plastering a smile on his face. Leah takes in the bras and pants hooked over his arm. 

“Was that everything he took?” she asks. 

“No, he legged it. He said some proper shit.” 

“What shit?”

Simon flounders, struck by how ridiculous their conversation will sound. “Just, shit. Total twat, definitely high.”

Leah takes the remaining underwear from his wrist and deftly hangs it. 

“Well you defended P&Ts’ honour and that’s what counts.”

“Getting employee of the month for that.” Simon thinks about going for a kiss but can readily imagine the telling off it’ll get him.

“If they had that here,” she says. “You’re due on tills y’know? I told Pauline you were having toilet troubles to buy you time.”

He grimaces. “Why’d you go with that and not stories of my heroics?”

“Cause I thought it was funny, Pratt,” she smirks as she struts away. “Like you thought that poem you wrote in the school toilets was funny: Leah Colman is properly fit, she’s got a great pair of double D-” She quickly jerks one bra up to chest height. 

“Oi, that was Ryan! You know I’m crap at lyrics.” 

She scoffs as she disappears into the thicket of bra stands. 

Simon feels the last of the adrenaline seeping out of his system as he sidles over to the tills. After returning Pauline’s sympathetic grimace, he logs himself onto one and lets his gaze settle on middle distance. Time moves in fits and starts, speeding up when customers materialise and slowing glacially when the shop floor empties. He mentally stacks his wages in ten pence increments as the minutes tick by, then stacks the pennies until they’re pounds, until he’s paid for his day’s tube travel. He imagines what he’ll spend the rest on: pints with Ryan, a nice meal with Leah, a day out in Southend. 

Roman Nose smirks, inches from his face. 

Simon shoves the thought aside in favour of imagining where he’ll be a year from now. He makes a concentrated effort to visualise some possibility that doesn’t involve singing to a packed Wembley Arena. As though in protest, his brain offers him the opposite: laid on a creeper under someone’s clapped out Ford Mondeo in his dad’s garage, straining to hear the radio over the sound of pneumatic tools. 

Roman Nose looks so smackably amused. Amused by Simon, by his polyester trousers, shirt and name badge. 

Like clockwork, Pauline’s ankles start swelling mid-afternoon so Simon offers to hold down the fort while she takes a walk around the department. He waits until she’s out of earshot before tapping rhythms on the counter edge. His brow knits as he drums, breath held in anticipation of crafting something new and novel. He hums along, fingers twitchy with excitement as he convinces himself he’s concocting something new, only to realise seconds later that he’s remembering a Heaven 17 tune. By the time Pauline’s returned, he’s back to daydreaming about sweating under spotlights, but the girls in the audience are laughing not cheering, their voices gravelly and chuntering. 

Leah does the honours of locking up when closing time finally arrives. Simon pulls off Geoff’s name badge and chucks it back in the spares box. He sits on the counter, swinging his feet while Leah diligently trots around the shop floor, locking tills, closing fitting rooms and bidding everyone a good evening. When she’s done, she collects him like he’s a dog tied up outside a corner shop and they grab their bags from the locker room. 

“D’you need to get your coursework done before the gig?” he asks.

“Nah, I’ve finished with assignments now.” She leads the way down Wardour Street, luckily avoiding the route he’d sprinted earlier.

“Doctor Colman.”

“It’s a Business Management undergrad degree Si, not quite.”

The nickname sends his thoughts back to wet alleyways and waist length hair. Leah gives him a look while they wait at the traffic lights on Shaftesbury Avenue. 

“You’ve got a face like thunder.”

Simon slaps on a smile. “Sorry, m’mind drifted.”

“You still thinking about that bloke?” 

He winces at the accuracy of her mind reading. “A bit, I guess. He was such a weirdo.”

“Must’ve been, to distract you from thinking about your gig. Sorry, I mean visualising it,” she corrects, playfully bumping her hip against his. 

He tries not to dwell on her choice of words - his gig, not their gig - knowing full well he doesn’t want to know her reasons. 

“I think I’ve seen him before,” she says, jolting him from his thoughts. 

“What, at P&Ts?”

“No, somewhere else.” Her face scrunches with thought before she huffs out a breath. “Can’t remember, bet it’ll come to me later.”

“Definitely got a face you’d remember. Face only a mother could love.” Leah makes to give Simon his customary peck goodbye at the ticket barrier. “Aren’t you coming back wimme to Barking?”

“No, I’ll meet you there,” she says. 

 “Why? If you’re done with studying, what’re you doing?”

“Packing, what else?”

“Didn’t your landlord agree that you could stay in your flat a little longer?” 

“No, they’ve already got a new tenant lined up so I’ve gotta be out by next Monday.”

“But your new flat isn’t available yet, where’re you gonna go?”

“I dunno yet. It’s only a week, I’ll stay in a hostel if I really have to. Me and Fiona are asking around on the scheme to see if anyone’s got a spare sofa.”

“That new landlord’s given you a right run-around,” he mutters. 

“Not a lot I can do about it, is there? I’ve already signed the lease.”

“You could end it and move back home, it’d save you some money.”

“You can’t just end it, that’s not how leases work.”

“Well, when it expires then.”

“I’ll be making way more money when I start on the scheme,” Leah says, “I don’t need to move back home. Hayley moved into my old room, anyway, she’d have a fit if I asked for it back.” 

“We’d get more time together if you moved back to Barking.”

“We’d get more time together if you moved in closer.”

“I can’t afford that, just working at P&Ts, my mum’d never let it drop.”

“So you need to come up with somewhere else to work, don’t you?” she says, tone getting tetchy. “Dream bigger or dream smaller, New Age Man.”

“Alright, alright, just don’t leave it too late, getting to Barking, we’re on at nine thirty.”

“I know, you’ve only said ten times today.”

“Sure you can’t just come now?”

“Simon, all I need to do is have a shower and slap some make up on. It’s not like I need to practice, I barely do anything, you’re the one doing all the singing and playing.”

“Not all of it.”

“Most of it. I better get going, I’ll see you later. Wear the gold suit, you haven’t worn it in a while.” 

Leah gives his hand a quick squeeze before heading for the Bakerloo platform.

“Yes boss,” Simon says, saluting her retreating back. 

He waits for the Upminster service to pull into the platform, drops onto a worn, lumpy seat and does his best to imagine the future, looking at the darkened window of the tube train like he’s crystal ball gazing. His own weary face stares blankly back.

[asktheevilgeniusesson]

The wolf looked rather unamused about the predicament about being tied up with the metallic hedgehog. infact, dare say Crescent was bored at his potentially dangerous predicament.. though he does eventually end up speaking up.

' ' you realize I've got teeth and claws right? actually, I'll just show you. ' ' The wolf begins to chew on the rope with his sharp canines- atleast for himself. it doesnt take long before Crescent finds himself out of his binds and standing. though he does need to duck as to not hit his head on the top of the blimp. shockingly.. he even stands taller than the albatross.

' ' So.. your deal is selling or pawning off Metal? well I'll admit, im surprised you birdbrains got your feathery fingers on him without him decimating each one of you but I suppose that blame is to be put towards the doctor. ' ' Crescent rolls his shoulders, a soft pop and cracking some from his bones could be heard before he looks towards the babylon rogues again.

' ' why even bother with any of this? you've got a blimp. why waste so much energy and time trying to pawn off eggman's junk when chaos relics would go for millions more, hm? or maybe there's something in the gaia temples you lot could find for a history nerd willing to spend their entire life savings on.. plus, who do you expect is gonna buy metal from you? ' ' The Wolf tilts his head. ' ' and who's to say Metal wont kill the one who buys him? ' '

The birds are seemingly distracted for a moment, talking about incoming bids for the tech and robot, but waves attention is caught by the wolves voice and his easy breakout from the ropes. She lets out a surprised and intimidated sqauwk at his sheer size and violently taps the boys’s shoulders, their heads whip to the wolf and they both Caw out in fear.

“STORM, HOW DID YOU FIT THIS ONE ON THE BLINP-?!”

“Mmmmagic..-“

“Oh for FUCKS SAKE- hold on i got this-“

Jet grumbles to the two before glaring up at the wolf and scowling, marching up to the massive ‘mobian’ and glaring him dead in his eye. Feathers are ruffled and his blue eyes burn into the wolves. Its clear the hawk isnt amused but is also intimidated, but aswell cocky and thinks he can stand up to him.

“And who are you to judge us for makin a living here fuck-face? Eggmans fucked us, and multiple cities, up MULTIPLE times, hes tried to destroy the world dangnabit! And if sonic wont just KILL him, WE decided to start taking revenge in the best way we know how! Selling his shit or just trashing his place until sonics bitchass does something!”

The hawk shrieks, gritting his teeth.

“Dont underestimate a flock of bird, big dog! And plus, metals pint sized, he was easy to nab! Like stealing a child.”

Jet snickers, scowl turning to a cocky grin and putting his talons on his hips, rolling his eyes.

“You got a point there, big dog, but we find it fun to mess with the egghead and foil his plans, plus without his prized possession, metal, he cant really cause much destruction without sonic tearing through his robots in seconds! We’re helpin in our own way, and thats stealing from the wicked and givin to the city! We’ll be goin for more pricey expensive shit later though, dont you worry. And well, if you must know the highest bid for this little bitch is 2 MILLION rings! Or dollars, depends on what they’re paying with. But STILL. People want this little bucket ‘a bolts. But i take it some edge,ord like you don’t want nothin to do with this?”

Jet snorts as he rambles, throwing his talons and wings around in motions as he does, before perking his brows to that last statement. The green hawk then looks to the small robot and snorts, moving over to pick up the rather small cage the chao-sized robots in and holds it so the wolf can see it.

“You see this? You see how small and insignificant it is right now? It cant kill anyone in this state! And besides, we made sure to declaw it. It was.. a pain in the ass but hey, it worked.”

As the hawk holds up the cage. The tiny chao-sized hedgehog stares up at the wolf. It moves to slide its paw through the bars and pathetically reach and strain its tiny body to try and reach out to him for help since it recognizes crescent, letting out small mechanical cries once more. This is essentially a living hell for the little robot. Nothing but a little pet in a cage.

[actualbampot]

Skewed

A/N: I’ve been writing crap fanfiction since the dawn of time and not once have I posted any of it online. Be nice, this is 3/4 years old. If it’s your cup of tea, enjoy or whatever.  What if Raven didn’t save Yang in the ‘No Brakes’ episode? Warnings for mild/moderate torture, blood, YangxNeo, Baked Alaska

The cracking thud of Yang's heavy body dropping to the floor was a sickening sound.

Pain blossomed out over the narrow of her vision followed by a loud whimper. How had this happened again?

Oh yea.. heterochromia

That was Yang's first thought at the time, her clothes, hair and eyes. All of them alternating between sickly sweet colours of pink, chocolate and vanilla, betrayed by that sudden shift of her innocent smile curling into a cruel and knowing smirk.

Those eyes. Had they been really changing?

At first Yang thought the pumping adrenaline was simply making her lose her focus, that she was just imagining it. Her opponent had been landing some lucky shots and throwing her off her game.

But when her face and body began to sting, when her arms were heaving towards the girl and hitting only air, Yang dreadfully began to realize that this pint sized monster was just toying with her, her small frame moving with such fluidity and grace that Yang could only snarl at each dodge and parry, and in response her opponent flashed a toothy smirk solely in mockery.

Come on. Hit me

She’d remained silent throughout, though the words may as well have been written all over her features, and in a flare of rage Yang was carelessly throwing all of her strength behind her hooks. The familiar sight of red bleeding into lilac becoming more apparent with each swing, drawing a silent chuckle from the short girl, hand resting over her lips for effect.

Yang was having trouble recalling the exact moment her body hit the floor. She remembered throwing all her body weight into a jab- so sure that this time it would hit and wipe that smug expression of hers to kingdom come.

However the girl had parried, sending two kicks in quick succession square underneath her chin with enough force that her body collided harshly with the steel wall of the train carriage before unceremoniously hitting the floor.

Stars of pain broke out along Yang's skull and she found herself squinting up at the lights through a dark tunnel of vision. She tried to move but everywhere throbbed in angry and exhausted pain, even Ember Celica felt like dead weights on her arms.

How had this happened again? It was getting harder to recall.

-Oh yea, heterochromia.

'Concentrate Yang. Stay awake'

The familiar click of heels scraping metal flooring approached over her body. The sound trapped a lump of dread in Yang's throat and within moments her dazed but desperate eyes were locked with another pair.

The brawler held in a whimper when the small terror blinked away the brown and cotton candy pink eyes that had been taunting her thus far, replacing the former with a pale, almost eerily transparent silver.

Yang could only watch as her hand lowered down to the handle of that wretched parasol she wielded. Attached to the handle the girl unsheathed a long and deadly pointed needle from the umbrella’s spine, and within moments Yang's expression creased in terror.

The smirk that had been nothing more than a frustrating distraction was gone, replaced by a manically wide grin of intent that only matched the sharpness of her needle.

In an act of self preservation Yang’s body kick started to life, bringing her arm back to throw a last ditch and desperate punch.

It was met with a heeled boot slamming down into her bicep. The heel drove her arm back down to the floor with the harsh point almost puncturing her skin. Yang hissed in pain, and before she could try to retaliate she felt the same searing pain as her opposite arm was cruelly pinned down in a similar fashion.

Above her the girl shifted her weight back onto both heels and carefully squatted lower to Yang's body, only stopping when her hips hovered a few inches from Yang's chest. The weight tore a cry of pain from the huntresses throat and to her horror, Yang watched a faint redness bloom along the girls cheeks, her teeth tentatively catching her lower lip in unadulterated thought.

She was enjoying this.

'Don't- My teammates will- DON'T-'

Pain ripped out along Yang's shoulder and chest and nothing could have suppressed the cry that tore from her throat mid sentence.

Neo buried her needle inch-deep, her eyes lighting up in delight as Yang desperately writhed and twisted underneath her.

Yang's head was swimming, her chest rising and falling fast and dangerously close to hyperventilation. She need to do something. She needed her team. Needed Ruby.

Meanwhile Neo drank in the sight of this towering hot-head coming undone. She sharply tilted her head and twisted the needle in unison, escalating cries of pain deepening the pink blush she already wore.

More.

A small bud of blood rose to the surface of Yang's skin when the needle slid out with ease, red blooming beneath her jacket.

There was no warning when the needle punctured for a second time, and Yang's jaws clenched hard enough to shatter.

'F-FUCK-' leather tight against her mouth cut her cuss short. Neo twisted the needle again, her lips parting and closing wordlessly at the vibrations of Yang's muffled screams against her gloved hand.

This was too much. She couldn't breathe, couldn't find her voice to try crying for help. White began spotting the girls' vision, feeling that at any point her mind would snap like a taught thread.

And this terrifying, beautiful little nightmare was winding the string tight around her fingers, forcing her desired responses from Yang with every single pull and tug.

Yang watched as Neo's small pink tongue darted across her lips, then pursed as if trying to contain her excitement. The needle eased further inside, flesh offering little resistance against its razor sharp point and the girl above her forced her weight down.

More.

Yang's eyes snapped wordlessly wide as needle found its mark, puncturing through the other side of her shoulder into the floor beneath. A shudder coursed up Neo's spine, the sensation of Yang's raw screaming against her palm making her fingers tingle in delight.

What felt like an eternity passed for the younger girl before Neo's leather clad hand finally slid from Yangs mouth, allowing her to heave in agony and panic. Her gulps and coughs of air were close enough to mingle with the hot breeze of her captors short and excited breaths.

The blondes heart felt like it was breaking through her chest in fear as Neo's gloved thumb traced patterns on her soft lower lip, parting her own in unison with Yang's when sliding the needle further down.

Neo drank up her opponents cries with bated breath relishing the heat emanating from her body like a wildfire.

Just as she'd expected, the younger girls aura was weak and untrained and couldn't compensate against intense pain, but in turn it fueled her fiery semblance to its limits. Heat defiantly rolled from her body in waves, those red pools of hurt and rage coupled with heady scent of blood and sweat almost causing Neo to lower her lips and close the few centimeters left between them- Almost.

Her stretched and manic grin continued to push the limits of her blushing cheeks. Abandoning the needle that held Yang down, her hands found the brawlers hot and dampened face, thumbs tentatively catching her tears.

'M-my team...' Yang rasped out between the scorching area that separated their lips 'W-will find you down h-here.'

Neo cocked her multi toned head as if urging her to continue speaking, feeding gloved fingers up through those gorgeous blonde tresses.

'..T-they won’t let you g-get-'

A rip cut her short. Neo sunk tight fists into the helpless girls' hair and tore her body up from the floor.

Yangs agape and wordless scream could never be matched by the girl above her. In a single blink one silver and one chocolate eye lidded over with heavy desire as she slowly dragged Yang's quivering and flushed body up the length of the needle.

Neo could only appear to suppress a moan of delight that would never be heard as she wrenched on that glowing golden hair of hers to brush their lips together.

'..S-stop' The word barely passed as a whisper, repeating brokenly until the plead died out on Yang’s tongue.

The beautiful monster above wrenched her head back, tilting her neck at a sharp angle to expose the length of her throat, one hand freeing her hair to tug her annoying scarf aside before pressing the hot skin flush against her lips and teeth.

Yang felt like she was going to die. The girls mouth left hot trails along her neck, biting and sucking possessively as if proof of her existence wouldn't be validated enough by skewering the girl to the floor like an animal.

Her body shivered despite her semblance, and somehow the pain became a background drone, the only thing she could differentiate between being the stiff rattling in her bones, and Neo's warm lips and breath trailing from her neck to her jaw, her shockingly hot tongue mixing against the dampness clinging to her skin.

Something hot was curling a knot in her stomach, a sensation hiding beneath the surface of the pain.

She was sure she was dying, but her semblance continued to burn life into her heart until her chest felt like fire. Somewhere deep down, Yang knew her body was betraying her.

Neo's weight shifted and the blonde felt the throb of relief when her heels dislodged from her arms and moved away, the shorter girl instead sitting perched on her chest like a throne. It wasn't long before she realized the multicoloured girl had shifted her attention, leaving Yang's skin simmering with the absence of her mouth.

Neo reached behind her to where the girls legs lay motionless. She couldn't feel a hand against her clothes, rummaging until she moved back with a scroll in hand. HER scroll.

The blonde squinted through hazy vision to focus on her sisters face on the screen and somewhere in the background a familiar ringtone was playing. Neo's next smile was one of endearment, her finger toying across the glass where Ruby's mouth was displayed before swiping to accept the incoming call.

Sharp elbows were propped on her chest hard, and the scroll was held to Yang's ear, playful eyes silently observing, Neo's small pearly teeth catching her lower lip to suppress a smile that made Yang feel sick.

'Yang the train is coming close to the end- are you ok? We need you up here! Yang?'

Ruby's voice carried clearly across the speaker and the fiery blonde swallowed down hard to control her breathing.

She kept absolutely silent, the sound of the rickety train should have been the only noise playing on the other side. No. She wouldn't lead Ruby down here, not with Neo waiting and with no way of defending her sister.

The girl above her shifted with a soft tut of disapproval, reaching for her needle and bending.

'Yang are you there?! Yang!'

The moment went white.

[inkblccded-moved]

“What do you think you’re doing?!” @ Ranpo from Wolf Dad (light novel era? :3 )

meme! ; accepting ; @strcysouls

       “YOU CAN’T GET HURT!”

The words spilled from Ranpo’s lips with a frantic force behind them as he sprinted right for Fukuzawa. The old man was an incredible warrior- one with no equal. Anyone could tell that much with just one glance. But, for some reason, he hadn’t seen the attack coming. Ranpo knew in an instant that it was going to hit him and that it would be nothing he could easily walk away from.

He couldn’t let that happen.

Ranpo moved as quick as his little legs could carry him and shoved himself between Fukuzawa and the incoming bullet. The metal tore right into his shoulder and sent the pint-sized detective to the ground in a heap. He curled into himself, hand pressed tight over the bleeding wound. The teenager gritted his teeth against the pain and squeezed his eyes shut tight, hot tears immediately spilling down his cheeks.

He’d never felt pain like this before. 

Back in his comfortable, sheltered country life, he never would have imagined he’d end up getting shot in a city street one day. 

“You can’t get hurt…! Because if you get hurt…you m-might die too…and I cannNN’t–!” He shuddered in agony, keeping pressure over the bullet hole to keep the blood from flowing freely. He needed a hospital. “I can’t lose anyone else…You can’t leave me too!”

[littlemulattokitten]

The Game

*If you don’t like spoopy serial killer AUs, this is your warning.*

Day ?

?

Contestants Remaining: —

The hard crack of the light switch echoed through the metal panel on the wall and around the room. A low electric hum followed, fading into the background as more switches were flipped, more buttons pressed. A high frequency whine filled the room, increasing until the sound became too high for human ears and seemed to stop. Computer monitors blinked to life, their screens full of silent static until a button on the keyboard was held down. The sound of nineteen bodies breathing out of sync added to the quiet droning that filled the air.

Slowly, the monitors filled with images of rooms that were identical save for their inhabitants. Some were male. Some female. All of them were unconscious. None of them knew what awaited them when they awoke.

Dark eyes watched the last fuzzy monitor, the only monitor that mattered, as it’s camera feed came into view.

She looked healthy. She looked whole.

She was broken.

Another monitor, one that was unassuming except for the fact that it was as far away from the first as physically possible, showed a man. He looked peaceful, his dark blond hair askew in sleep.

It was ironic. He was whole.

But in time, he would crumble, shatter, fracture.

Break. And break. And break until he was nothing more than tiny pieces.

~~~~~

This was avoidable.

If blame is to be placed I place it with you.

I’ve accepted responsibility for my mistakes.

I’ve long since made peace with the consequences.

But you.

You. Took. Her. From. Me.

And I let her go.

~~~~~

Day 1

8:00 AM

Contestants Remaining: 19

Her head was full of cotton.

Limbs that weren’t responding as well as they should have been twitched outward as she tried to feel around for her bedside table. Her hands met something cold and hard, more like a floor than her nightstand. She squinted against the lights and waited for her vision to focus.

She was not in her bedroom.

Her panic set in mentally much faster than the effects were catching up with her body. It felt like several minutes had passed from the time she’d opened her eyes to successfully sitting up. Her head was still cloudy, buy she could think well enough even if she couldn’t move around properly.

Her back was pressed up against one of four plain, cold white walls. There was a door a few feet from where she sat, there was one across from her, and there was on to her left. Only the leftmost door had a knob. The others were smooth, and looked like single elevator doors, also painted white, and with no button panels.

She was on a plain twin sized mattress with a thin blanket and a single pillow. Two fluorescent lights, the kinds that lit hospital hallways and professor’s offices on college campuses, were on the ceiling. There was a speaker, painted white, directly above the center of the room.

There was a rectangular digital clock mounted above the door across from her. The time was in bright green letter and beside it, instead of the date, it simply said Day 1.

Hermione had absolutely no idea where the hell she was or why and nearly jumped out of her skin when a distorted voice came from the speaker.

Good morning, everyone.

Everyone? She stared up at the ceiling with blood rushing through her ears and muscles spasming in her stomach.

I do hope you all slept well.

She swallowed hard and tried to remember how to breathe even as anxiety crept up her chest.

Some of you are very energetic this morning. I would save that energy. You won’t be needing it for a few days yet.

“What the hell happens in a few days?” she muttered through numb lips. “What is this?”

My name is M. Just the letter. Very simple. Very easy to remember.

I have a puzzle for all of you. Each of you has a cubby panel in one of your walls. In a few moments, your panels will open. There will be a piece of paper and a single crayon. On the paper is a riddle. Write your answer with the crayon and leave everything in the panel.

Very, very easy. You have thirty minutes to turn in your responses.

There was a pause, during which Hermione eyed her walls a bit more closely and chewed her bottom lip. It sounded like this M person was using a voice modulator, which raised several questions. Why use an alias and hide your voice unless you thought you’d be recognized? Did that mean she and whoever else was…wherever they were, knew this person?

She jumped when M laughed.

Some of you have inquired about the…consequences of refusing to participate in my little activity.

You are more than welcome to decline and find out

But that will be the last thing you ever do.

Good luck.

Hermione stared at the ceiling in muted horror, not even jumping when the panel in the right wall slid open loudly.

The last thing she remembered was falling asleep on the couch in her flat. She’d gotten lackluster take out and downed an entire pint of ice cream during a rerun of her favorite science show. But now she was trapped in a room with a madman who, apparently, would kill her if she didn’t complete his puzzle.

She wondered what would happen if she answered wrong as she went to the cubby in the wall to retrieve her puzzle.

I devour everything with no end in sight and I command everything from morning to night.

She frowned at the slip of paper and stuck the ‘grape juice purple’ crayon between her teeth. The paper wrapping was inconspicuous and so blatantly not name brand that she rolled her eyes. She assumed her captor wasn’t very careful with his funds and had blown his kidnapping budget before he’d gotten to the art supplies, and thus, he hadn’t been able to afford Crayola.

She hoped she lived long enough to find humor in off-brand crayons one day.

“I devour everything,” she read aloud. Fire didn’t command things from morning to night, so that was out. Time or ambition, maybe, but it seemed odd to her that the answer would be borderline philosophical.

She sighed heavily and rested her head against the wall. She had fifteen minutes left to answer.

“Or else,” she muttered under her breath, glancing in the corners of the room again. There weren’t any cameras, but judging from his earlier announcement, it seemed M could at least hear them, if not see them.

She stopped worrying the crayon and hesitated.

Would he kill her for getting clarification?

She huffed out another sigh. “Are we allowed to put more than one answer?” she asked clearly, though she felt foolish speaking to an empty room.

You may.

“Jesus-fucking-Christ,” she muttered, grinding her teeth in annoyance. His voice had made her jump and now goosebumps covered her arms.

Voice modulators did not prevent amusement from being conveyed, she now knew. Maybe if she lived that tid bit of trivia would help her someday.

She wrote time, ambition, life, death, and humanity under the riddle and took her supplies back to the cubby hole. The panel slid shut as she lowered herself back to the mattress. She had just gotten comfortable again when it reopened, to her surprise.

Curiosity beat apprehension, and against her better judgement, Hermione walked back over to the right wall. She blinked at the tray of food and the seemingly unopened water bottle, idly wondering if it had been tampered with.

Not that there’s anything else to drink.

“Um. Thank you?” she said, taking the water, sandwich, packet of crisps, and cookie out of the cubby. “So I answered correctly?”

Yes.

Right then.

She cracked open the water and took a long drink after determining that it tasted normal. The sandwich, she was more than surprised to find, was a ham and turkey club…on sourdough…prepared exactly how she liked it.

She counted her blessings that M was feeding her at all and tried not to think too hard about how or why he’d presented her with one of her favorite meals.

~~~~~

It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

You needn’t have left.

Nor stayed away for so long.

He took you, but you went willingly.

Why didn’t you stay?

~~~~~

[taikoturtle]

Mini Trimberly fic

Dedicated to @gay-ass-sideblog​ who gave me the tumblr prompt “telling the rest of the rangers they’re together”. I couldn’t start writing until after work and I had a million ideas for this (initially more humorous I don’t know what happened??) but I hope you enjoy it. :)

Read it on AO3 

Rated M? Some allusions to sex, a little bit of violence, but nothing too crazy.

More under the cut

“Trini, we should really–”

The rest of Kimberly’s words catch in her throat as the shorter girl’s mouth presses against her neck in a series of feverish kisses, each one shooting waves of heat through her body and melting her from the inside out.  

Kimberly’s breath exhales in shaky, drawn out bursts as if she was actually in control of the relentless desire boiling to the surface, but she knows it’s a damn lie and just a couple more minutes is all it would take to hurl her past the point of no return.

They shouldn’t be doing this – especially not here of all places.

Kimberly can feel the cool tile of the girl’s bathroom wall at school rubbing against her back – a stark contrast to the raging inferno of her skin – as Trini closes whatever miniscule gap that remained between their bodies by leaning in with all her weight.  Her heart hammers away in her chest with such force that she’s almost certain Trini can feel it too.

She feels a hand snake under her shirt and palm at her stomach. Trini’s hands are the perfect mixture of soft and gentle, yet firmly demanding and her touch instantly short-circuits Kimberly’s senses. A quiet moan escapes her lips, surprising her enough into a vaguely lucid state long enough to string words together.

“I’m… missing AP biology… r-right now.”

Trini pauses and laughs – an actual genuine laugh – relenting in her onslaught for a brief moment to address her concerns.

“This ain’t enough bio for you, princess?”

Her breath is hot against her skin and Kimberly shudders involuntarily as a small smile tugs at her lips. “God, you’re so lame.”

“Whatever, you know you like it.”

In a flash, Trini’s lips are back on her neck, her teeth biting down just hard enough to elicit another moan, much louder than before, as Kimberly throws her head back against the wall because she's definitely loving this.

Her eyes squeeze shut and she’s far beyond the point of self-control, so she figures fuck it, who even needs bio these days? It’s not like missing one class will be the end of the world.

So she squeezes Trini tighter, drawing her in closer than anyone has ever been before, closer to her heart than she’d ever admit out loud, and lets herself get lost in the moment.

//

Kimberly doesn’t know when it started.

Sure, she can pinpoint the exact moment when she thought holy shit this girl is hot – it was while they were doing just a routine training, because goddamn the vivid image of Trini in a low-cut tanktop with glistening skin – but the gradual developing feelings over time? Hell no.

Was it their first one-on-one at their favorite coffee shop?

Or was it when she pulled Trini down into the ravine for the first time? Her eyes wide all at once with fear, shock, and rage as if shouting I can’t believe you just fucking tricked me.

Could it have been when they were being pushed back into the pit against Goldar, hope seemingly lost and their lives all but forfeit?

No, she doesn’t know when it started but what she does know now is that she’s falling hard for this pint-sized, feisty ranger and she really couldn’t care less.

About a month after Rita Repulsa’s failed attack on Angel Grove, they were fighting off another terrible villain claiming to be all-powerful and beyond their mortal comprehension. With a name like Lord Zedd? Yeah right, whatever.

Regardless, he gave them a good run for their money, what with a large zord to match their own and immense strength in his own right, but more importantly he essentially served as the catalyst to Kimberly’s emotional epiphany.

Trini’s zord had been struck hard by an oversized monster, courtesy of Lord Zedd, and launched into a hill before catching fire. She struggled to crawl out of the cockpit amidst the burning flames and though she seemed to be holding up just fine, the moment she stood up on the snout of her sabertooth tiger her legs gave way and her body collapsed like a rag doll.

All the way up in the sky, Kimberly sensed Trini’s energy slowly beginning to fade, and when she laid eyes on her crumpled figure, something in her utterly snapped.

Screaming with fury, she unleashed a maelstrom of rockets and lasers - any and every firepower at her disposal she just let the monster have it. The Ptera zord rained down destruction on the oversized beast, and though the others followed suit with their own range of weaponry, nothing rivaled the unbridled rage coursing through Kimberly’s veins.

When the dust settled and the monster was vanquished, Kimberly piloted her zord over to be the first one over to Trini. Leaping down from her own machine midair, she landed roughly in a somersaulting roll before skidding to a stop by the yellow ranger.

She yanked off Trini’s helmet to give her more space to breathe, revealing a scratched up, battered face, and it took all of Kimberly’s willpower not to scream and break down into a sobbing mess.

“Trini. Trini! Don’t you dare do this to me!”

She pulled the smaller girl into her arms and cradled her tenderly before it suddenly hit her like a tidal wave. Flashes of memories, snippets of their time together brief as it may have been, but it all came together and inundated her senses with unbearable emotions until she was one step away from the edge of oblivion. Kimberly cared for her on such a deep level that she felt like a blindsided fool for not knowing how she couldn’t recognize it before.

This moment of loss, this level of absence, the absolute void that was threatening to form in her heart and swallow her whole - it all pointed to one glaring conclusion that seemed so painfully obvious in retrospect.

Pulling off her own helmet, Kimberly pressed her forehead to Trini’s and felt warm tears trickle down her cheeks.

“You dummy. Don’t leave me. You can’t leave me - please. ”

The rest of the zords started to catch up to their location and through the cacophony of grinding metal and roaring flames licking up around their surroundings, Kimberly could only focus on the rough cough that reverberated through Trini’s body like a miracle.

“W-who you callin’ a dummy?”

Kimberly didn’t know whether she should laugh or cry, and instead managed an ugly combination of the two resulting in an unceremonious choked snorting sound. It was ugly and on any other day she’d loathe for anyone to hear it, but all that mattered was that Trini was safe in her arms and very much alive.

Trini’s arms wrapped loosely around Kimberly for support in more ways than one and she whispered weakly for just her to hear.

“I’ll never leave you.”

The bond between the two shifted that day. Kimberly hated herself for not realizing how she felt sooner, how it took Trini nearly dying again for her to see it so crystal clear, but somewhere along the journey of becoming rangers together and fighting off evil, she developed feelings for this feisty yellow ranger and now she can't imagine her life without Trini in it.

//

“We’re going to have to tell the others.”

Kimberly munches on a donut thoughtfully as Trini’s words cut through the mellow drone of ambient noise in their favorite coffee shop.

“I mean, c’mon, you know they’ll find out eventually. Especially Zack. The dude is insane and can probably hear us talking about him right now through weird telepathy or some shit. Plus what if this affects our morphing abilities?”

Trini takes a bite of her own donut covered with a healthy layer of sugar, and though her words always poke fun at their black ranger comrade, Kimberly knows it’s always just a front – Trini and Zack are nearly inseparable. They’re the dynamic duo of mayhem to the point where if Trini isn’t with Kimberly, then they know she’s with Zack.

It’s a ‘bromance’ made in heaven, according to Zack who enjoys exclaiming this fact out loud as they train against putties, to which Trini merely rolls her eyes with exasperation in response, but when she turns away and thinks nobody is watching, a small grin overtakes her features. It’s a minute gesture that never escapes Kimberly and reminds her that becoming the power rangers meant welcoming a new formed family.

No matter how rough things may get, they know they would always have each other.

With their powers constantly keeping them finely in tune with one another though, Trini does make a valid point that any secrets could possibly begin to disrupt their synchronicity.

Shrugging nonchalantly, Kimberly keeps her gaze averted to her half-eaten donut rather than look the other girl in the eyes.

“We’ll tell them. Eventually.”

The clatter of cups and chatting customers fills the gap of silence that follows, and when Trini doesn’t respond, Kimberly glances up and her heart sinks. Trini’s shoulders are slumped, her eyes low and crestfallen, and her overall aura likens to that of a deflating balloon.

Kimberly can practically feel Trini’s disappointment as her own, radiating out in a near tangible fashion, as if it’s reaching out and touching her soul through their power ranger connection, and suddenly her heart feels suffocated and heavy like an anchor cast out at sea.

She reaches out and takes Trini’s free hand in her own, lacing their fingers together in a comfortable, intimate grip as if they were made for each other, and gives her a reassuring squeeze.

I’m not ashamed of you, I swear.

These words flash through Kimberly’s mind and as Trini looks up and into her eyes, the pain in her chest diminishes somewhat.

She knows telepathy isn’t a thing, or at least she really hopes it isn’t considering all of the things that have run through her mind when they’re alone together, but she can’t seem to find the right words to say to put Trini at ease.

Truth be told, Kimberly doesn’t know why they haven’t told the rest of the group. It’s always boiled down to ‘this just isn’t the best time’ or something along those lines, but honestly when is it ever a good time?  

There’s no fear as to whether the group would accept it, seeing as how they seemed fine when Trini made her nondescript declaration at the campfire some odd months ago, so that reason for hesitation is out of the picture.

Nobody seemed romantically interested in anybody else within the group, as far as she could tell anyways, so no toes would be stepped on and no feelings would be hurt. Another reason for hesitation scratched off.

So that settles it.

“We can say something by the end of the week. That sound okay to you?”

Kimberly proposes a sort of pseudo-ultimatum, one that if it fails to follow through wouldn’t spell the end of the world, but would still mean a great deal to Trini.

Nodding with renewed vigor and higher spirits, Trini cocks her head to the side and smiles gratefully.

“Sounds perfect.”

//

“Where are Trini and Kimberly? They were supposed to be here by now!”

Jason paces around the cliff top above the ravine, dust kicking up in his wake as he checks his watch every couple of minutes as if it would help the two girls magically appear out of thin air.

“W-well they have been acting awfully strange this past week. Perhaps they are in the middle of an argument? Maybe some personal issues have arisen?” Billy proposes, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of the absent rangers.

“Personal or not, we have training to keep up with,” Jason retorts, annoyance dripping in his words, “and we have to stick by it or we’re going to get our butts kicked if we start getting lazy.”

A light breeze blows through the air, rustling the plants and adding to the dust kicking up from Jason’s impatience. Nobody could blame him though. The bright overhead sun, coupled with relatively clear skies spells the perfect day for outdoor activities. Biking, hiking, sports, pretty much anything would be better than being cooped up in an underground alien facility yet here they are, ready to put in their time.

“Dude, let’s just start without them. I’m sure they’ll catch up later,” says Zack before diving down into the water below.

Billy shrugs his shoulders in agreement. “We shouldn’t be held back from our training just because the girls are late. I do believe we should begin and they’ll get here when they get here.”

Grumbling because it’s definitely not okay for members of their team to just go rogue, Jason finally acquiesces and figures he has no other choice but to go along with the members who are actually present.

“Fine, you’re right. We’ll get started on our own, but if they’re not here in a half hour then I’m going to go looking for them. They could just be slacking off but what if there’s a problem? What if they ran into trouble? What if--“

His voice trails off and images of Rita flashes through his mind and he thinks of the terrible things that almost came to pass. He thinks of his team who he led recklessly into danger, of his team who was willing to die with him to defend the world, of his team member who actually did die to selflessly protect everyone.

A hand rests on his shoulder and Jason looks up into Billy’s twinkling eyes, his infectiously optimistic smile lifting a weight off his shoulders that he barely knew was there.

“Jason, I’m sure they’re fine. Can we go train now? I really need to be home in two hours or my mom is going to have some very stern words with me.”

Chuckling softly Jason nods. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The pair dive into the deep ravine like it’s second nature and swim through to the power rangers headquarters. They navigate through the winding underground rock paths and though in the very beginning it seemed cavernous and infinitely maze-like, now it just feels like home.

With their eyes adjusted to the darker light of the tunnels, the pair spot Zack doing push-ups on the ground outside of the entrance to the training room. Upon hearing their arrival, he shoots up and claps his hands together eagerly.

“Took you long enough! Okay so I was thinking that maybe after our typical hand-to-hand combat we can take the zords out for a spin, do a little group training, maybe do some cool tricks and—“

“Last time you took a zord out for a ‘spin’ you almost crashed it on us.” Billy says very manner-of-factly, his eyes contorted in a curious frown.

“Okay, that was like, one time and that was so long ago! We pilot our zords all the time now, why can’t we do something more awesome?”

Continuing to walk towards the makeshift training room, Jason rubs his forehead and sighs.

“No Zack, we’ve gone over this before.” He pauses momentarily before they finally leap down into the training room, or ‘glorified cave’ as Zack once called it, and continues on.

“No tricks, no stunts, no joyrides, no—oh my God!”

Zack's head whips into the direction of Jason's line of sight and he instantly falls to the ground, cackling like an elated child, because he sees exactly what stopped Jason in his tracks mere seconds after the exclamation. Kimberly had been leaning up against one of the larger rock formations, but with Jason’s yelp she had practically shoved the other girl away in panicked surprise.

Sprawled out on the ground like a kicked puppy, Trini scoops up her shirt and quickly shoves it over her head in an attempt to make herself somewhat decent as Kimberly scrambles to put her pants back on. Wiping her mouth unabashedly, Trini smirks at her girlfriend.

“Looks like we didn’t have to say anything to them after all.”

The remark garners her a light slap on the back of her head as Kimberly’s face completely flush from embarrassment shoots her a look of indignation, but Trini thinks the boys’ expressions are totally worth it.

“In-in here? Why. How. Wh-what? What you were you doing?!"

Jason’s shrill voice echoes through the training room before Billy chimes in.

“Well I think they were having se-“

“THANK YOU BILLY.”

[elevenhoursinfront-blog]

8th March 2017

Steve’s alarm went off at 0515. He left for work at 0600 and was back by 0645. Turns out, the sand hole was rained in too much and they didn’t require Steve as it was too dangerous. The company were told but didn’t tell Steve not to come in… The manager tried to get Steve to stay - he said he would pay him out of his own pocket. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything Steve could do so he had to go back home.

My alarm went off at 1000. I told myself to have a lay in but I didn’t want to waste the day. We both went down for breakfast. It was absolutely packed! There were groups of people sitting on the floor eating so it was even difficult to walk through. It was absolutely chucking it down with rain so I guess nobody had plans. I text Natalie - they lady who offered me the job, asking what was going on. It felt like I was waiting for a miracle. She replied straight away apologising. She explained that they had a brand new restaurant opening that she wanted me to work for. It has 3 more weeks of building work before I could start. I’m heart broken. I was so excited by the sound of it but I couldn’t wait 3 weeks for employment. I’d only have 1 month before I flew up to Cairns. She told me to seek employment until it opens. I haven’t told her I’m leaving in May. So, Melbourne?

Steve and I got ready and I dragged him out to find somewhere that could do my eyebrows. Sounds stupid, but they needed threading/waxing asap. It had been a month since they were done and they were well past using tweezers. My hair grows stupidly fast.

We got the train for 3 stops to Central. We hadn’t walked around here before so it was nice to be somewhere new. It was massive and there were shops everywhere. We walked about 15 minutes until I found a shopping centre with an eyebrow threading place inside. $37!!!!!!! For my brows to be threaded and dyed. No. My heart shattered. I had to suck up the $20 and get them threaded. I bought my own dye from a pharmacy so I could do it at home. Ridiculous. Would normally cost me £12 at home. Luckily, it should last a month.

There was a massive shop inside called “K-Mart”. We walked around and I was finally in my element. CHEAP CLOTHES. CHEAP EVERYTHING. It looks exactly like Tesco with Primark prices. Shoes for $4. TOP FOR $5! In my size too. The shop had big sizes, proper sizes. 14’s that we’re actually 14’s and not 10’s. I loved it. I got a couple of bits including Bridget’s! A personal favourite of mine. Big knickers that hold everything in is a God send in my opinion. I also managed to whack my forehead on a metal pole holding clothes up. I now have an egg and a bruise to show for it.

We walked around and found H&M… With a massive sale on. Of course I was partial to a slight bit of window shopping. It got to roughly 1700 when we were finished in the shopping centre. I told Steve I didn’t want to travel home in rush hour so we found a pub.

Conveniently, there was a pub opposite the centre. It was happy hour from 1700-1900. I was extremely happy. I messaged our friend Josh, who moved to central, to come join us. Luckily, his hostel was a 1 minute walk around the corner. He was with us in no time. I ordered Summersby - an apple cider. It was lovely and refreshing. Steve ordered different pints each time as he couldn’t find a nice one.

The two hours went past and I had a good 4-5 ciders. It was fair to say I was tipsy. Cider made me feel extremely bloated and ucky. I know it’s not a real word, but it’s a great way to describe how I felt.

Josh ran home as it was chucking it down and Steve and I walked to the station. It was only 15 minutes. We got the train home and got into the hostel. Everyone was getting ready to go out and I was well and truly ready to go to bed. I was stupidly tired. You get stages when you drink and I was at the tipsy tired stage. Steve was just normal. I was even too tired to blog so I would personally like to apologise to all my loyal fans (Nan and Grandad Richards).

I went to sleep but it was an awful sleep. Majority of the room came back around 0200. The Scottish two are ridiculously noisy. Steve is very close to losing the plot with them. A guy from Belgium checked in and his English is better than mine. I thought he was from London.

It got to 0300 and the aircon went off. I don’t know whether someone turned it off or it stopped working. I got up and went to the fuse box to turn it on again.

Steve’s alarm went off at 0515 for work. It woke me up and everything was stupidly loud. I spent 15 minutes looking for my earplugs… I got out of bed, checked under my pillows, down the side of the bed, pulled my mattress out until I found them. IN MY EARS. How did I not realise they were in my ears already? I needed to go back to sleep..