#most chill boss award

[scarrfaze]

steven has never been much of a morning person. more of a nightowl, really, the kind of man who prefers staying up until the wee hours of the morning and sleeping in until noon -- unfortunately he has always had jobs where early mornings were an every day occurrence. he's gotten very good at subsisting solely on three hours of sleep and cup upon cup of coffee. sometimes energy drinks. it's a wonder he hasn't given himself a heart murmur yet.

he's still trying to stifle a yawn or two as he makes his way to the cafe, not expecting to experience the overwhelming cheerfulness of one of his fellow employees quite so soon.

"Good morning, Hanabi." she's so weighed down with whatever the hell she has that she looks like she might topple over at any moment. is that all stuff for the cafe?

"Here, let me take some of that." he has to hasten his steps a bit to keep up with her skipping, but he doesn't want her to fall and hurt herself, even if she does seem to be handling herself fine.

"What is all of this? Part of your little experiment?" better question: does he really want to try it?

@scarrfaze

"Mister Starphase!" Hanabi quickly rushes over to the manager of Cade December and...why does she have so many bags on EACH arms?!

"Are you going to the cafe too? Prepping up before we actually open? LET'S go together! I would like for you to try something." And she's so excited too. Hanabi doesn't wait and she's happily skipping forward. As heavy as those bags are, she doesn't seem bothered by the weight of them.

[2-dsimp]

——|———-|———|———

Yandere hitman squad

Introducing the Boss

——|———-|———|———

Yandere Boss who’s known as a lazy sleezebag that makes the squad carry more weight than needed. He can never be bothered to do anything that he deems as tiresome and is often just chilling in the background. However, when it comes time to flip his ON switch that’s when he truly starts making boss moves.

Yandere Boss is a closeted Otaku of anime. Having shelves upon shelves of figurines, mangas, and unopened collector items. As well as walls covered in iconic wall tapestries of his favorite characters. Along with a secret closet filled with cosplay costumes that’s yet to be touched.

Yandere Boss that happens to go to AnimeCon one day in a shady disguise silently admiring the authentic cosplays and merch. Until something caught his eye which was you in the most glamorous mouth watering homemade cosplay that left him gasping for breath and leaning up against the wall as he tried to calm his pounding heart from how fantastic you looked.

Yandere Boss who immediately became a fan. Lacking the drive to part the Red Sea of cosplayers flocking to you like a bunch of fruit flies he settled for admiring you from afar following your every move from a short distance as he began snapping photo after photo, and even taking videos of his newfound cosplayer crush that he’s becoming absolutely obsessed with like it was love at first sight.

Yandere Boss who gripped his phone screen so tightly that it cracked from him spotting two losers harassing you now that you were in a somewhat secluded area. With a long drawn out raspy sigh he retreated from the wall’s corner and came out the shadows behind you.

Yandere Boss that tentatively slithered his lean arm around your shoulder towering over you with his tall lanky frame. Peering down at the two creeps with a deadpanned expression like they were nothing but sad insects as he taunted them with an disgusted sneer. Insulting the two harassers, his sharp tongue automatically cursing them out calling them gross dickless losers and disgraces to the anime community all in one. While flipping them a slender manicured middle finger painted black as he told them to fuck off since you were taken by him.

Yandere Boss who purposely made a whole scene causing everybody to collectively to look his way and ridicule the two offenders despite his inclination to being under the attention of the masses as he was doing this all for his lovely little cosplayer. He had a look of smugness on his face, seeing the two fools be escorted out by the security for trying to commit disrespectful acts at the convention. But in the end he got a tad overwhelmed from the attention thrown his way and began sweating a bit under the pressure.

Yandere Boss who couldn’t help but feel his social battery burning out at a fast paste due to the cheers of the crowd awarding his smartarian actions when to be honest he was just acting out on his own selfish impulses since he couldn’t stand those filthy losers touching his newfound idol he was going to worship for the rest of his days.

Yandere Boss who damn neared almost suffered a heart attack when his sweet idol saw his dilemma and guided him swiftly away from the crowd that chanting how much of a chad he was. Grasping onto the arm he slung over their shoulder with their soft hands. He couldn’t help but become stiff like a robot as his face flushed his natural tired aloof features with splotches of a rosy red on his pale skin.

Yandere Boss who’s lungs got caught in his throat as you spoke to him with your adorable voice continuously thanking him. He watched you intently as you paused for a moment to ask if you could give him a hug noticing how antsy he was with the the attention that was focused on him. Saying no words he opened his arms invitingly tired eyes now sparkling full of life as if he’d just received enlightenment from god while he nodded frantically to the point where afterimages of his bobbing head could be seen in 3 different layers.

Yandere Boss who fist pumped himself in victory after you gave him your number and left the scene. He was feeling faint with a rush of endorphins flooding his senses from the interaction. Relishing in your sweet scent that covered his clothes, he vowed in his head that he’d never ever wash these clothes that were touched by his adoring idol. He was already picturing them framed up in his closet to commemorate this beautiful moment in his life.

Yandere Boss who’s your number one fan and supporter for life, and will always be sure to disregard his duties if only to fawn over you like the crazed fan that he is.

[ifearimaybeanamericanidiot]

Hidden Horns, a Devil Off The Ice

Hockey!Chris Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Your job is to write news reports on hockey games. Recently, you've been only given the stories revolving around one certain player, Chris Sturniolo. You just write what you see. It's not your fault he's pressed about it. Did you mention that you write under a pen name and his brothers begged you into going on a date with him? How did life get to complicated?

TW: "hate"/angry sex, SMUT, language

I burst into the editors' office. "Alright, dude, what the hell?! You can't keep giving me Sturniolo game stories! This is all I've gotten for almost two months!" I shout at my boss. Jim turn around in his office chair.

"I keep giving you those stories because it gets our numbers higher than ever. It's my job to do what I think is best for the paper. That's what I'm doing. You're going to keep writing about him, and you're going to keep it tension-filled!" Jim shouts right back. He stands up and shoos me out of the office. "Now, get to that game tonight!" I can not believe this man.

I never wanted to be a journalism writer. Creative writing has always been my forte, but here I am, writing for a major sporting news company. I also never thought I'd meet one of my best friends in a bar downtown after a job. Or that he'd be brothers with the man I'm being forced to write about.

I pick up my phone as I exit the office. "Hey Nick! What's up?"

"Chris is wanting me and Matt to go to the game tonight. You down?" Shit. Nick and Matt know that I work in journalism, but not about their brother. I've managed to get lucky the last few times. This is the first game they'll have gone to in a few months. The first game since I've been writing about Chris specifically. At first, it was just the team. Chris is such a star player though. The articles eventually just dissolved into being solely about him.

I've been told I sort of have a problem with separating my feelings with what I write. Meaning, I don't separate them. I started letting my frustration about being stuck with one topic out in the form of, well, of bashing Chris in my articles. But, I also tend to describe him in almost too much detail. Jim says that sex sells and therefore, I have to keep writing about him. Apparently, the audience seems to think that I'm fucking Chris behind the scenes.

"Oh?" I try to keep my cool with Nick.

"Would you mind coming with? We can get you a ticket-" I have to bite the bullet.

"Oh, I have a ticket actually! A gift from work." I look up at the sky. The color brings up an image of Chris's eyes. I drop my gaze. "Hey, how about I head your way? My editor sent me home for the day."

"Oh- yeah sure! I'm just chilling at home for now!"

"Okay babes. I'll be there in a bit." He tells me bye, and I hang up. I'm going to have to tell him about this, aren't I? I have to sit in the news section. Shit. I shake my head and walk to my car.

Traffic is god awful, but I get to Nick's unscathed. I get to his door, feeling around at the top for his spare key, and let myself in. "Honey! I'm home!" I yell out.

"I'm in the kitchen!" Nick calls back. I head that way.

"Hey." I hop up onto his counter. Matt pops his head into the room. "Oh, hey Matt! I didn't know you were here!" I say, a little surprised.

"Hey!" He smiles and waves, and takes a seat next to Nick.

"So, Nick- funny thing here. The ticket I have is in the news section of seats. I have to sit there." I give him my most award winning smile, hoping he won't put two and two together before I can explain.

"Oh?" He and Matt say in unison.

"Look, I haven't been completely honest. I need to come clean." I put my elbows on my thighs, resting my head in my hands.

"Hey, whatever it is, we won't be mad." Matt says comfortingly.

"You guys have seen the clips of Chris raging on and on about those articles about him, right?"

"Seen them? We have lived them." Nick rolls his eyes.

"I wrote them." I blurt it out. Now, it's out in the open and I can't take it back. Nick and Matt are both silent.

"So, I'm guessing you wouldn't go on a date with him?" Nick says, putting his hands in his lap.

"What." I demand.

"We think you should go on a date with Chris." Matt says.

"What? Why?" I ask, squinting at them.

"You're literally Chris's type." Matt says.

"And, he's been really focused on those articles. We thought it'd might do you both some good to just have fun with someone new." Nick adds. "Why do think he's always posed in the background of pictures I send you?" I snort at that.

"But, I'm the one writing the articles." I point out. "How would I help?"

"First, he doesn't know that it's you writing them. We sure as hell aren't going to tell him. And second, I think he's so pumped up about the articles because you say truer things than any girl he's ever been with." Nick says slowly.

"Honestly, I'm more scared for your ability to walk if he found out you wrote the articles." Matt says offhandedly.

"What?" I shout, jumping off the counter.

"Yeah, our version of the clips of his issues with the articles, is Chris shouting about how he'd like to bend whoever it is over a counter and show them 'who's head is smoking trying to think then.'" Matt shivers as he repeats what I assume are Chris's words. Of course, I recognize the words. They're my words. In one article, I responded to a clip of him being asked about a previous article. He didn't have anything to say, so I wrote 'I smell smoke. Thinking of a chirp, bud?' It's not my proudest moment.

"Ooooooo-" Nick claps his hands together. "Prank opportunity!" He stands up. "You can go to the game, write down your little notes, and go on a date with Chris before you publish the next article. You can make a more personal cut at him. Really wind him up, and then let him start to figure it out that it's you."

"That's a horrible idea." Matt says from his seat.

"I don't even like Chris." I point out.

"Bitch, that's a lie. Come on, please! It'll be so fun to see him get wound up. I never got him back for having a bird painted on my bathroom wall in the middle of the night." Maybe it's because I'm such a good friend, but I agree.

That was roughly three months ago. This "prank" of Nick's has been going on for like three months. I think Chris is finally starting to catch on though. Which sucks. I've actually started to enjoy being with him. We go on dates, and he's so sweet to me. I feel so bad every time I have to write an article. That's what I'm doing now. My computer is open on a fully finished and published article. I can't believe I wrote that Chris should be a Zamboni driver.

My apartment door swings open. There are heavy stomps coming down the hallway, towards the room I'm residing in. The door swings open, revealing Chris, still in his jersey, though he lacked any padding. It hug down a little amount, just enough for me to catch a glimpse of his collar bones. God, I love those. Don't get me started about his shoulders. Fuck.

"Hey, dollface." Chris greets me, his voice rough.

"Hey Chris. I'm sorry I couldn't stay for the whole game." He sets his bag down on my bedroom floor.

"It's okay ma, it seems like you got enough to write about before half time." I freeze. My entire body freezes. All I feel is panic. He looks at me, half turned around. "What? Did you think I wouldn't put two and two together?" I can't say anything.

He moves onto to the bed, pulling me flat onto my back, pushing his body over mine. "Really, ma. Did you think I wouldn't notice your pretty little speech patterns? You use literally, like, six times a day. I know you. I'm not stupid."

"I...I'm sorry, Chris." My voice trembles. "My boss won't stop giving me assignments about you." He stops.

"Sweetheart, we're okay." He reassures me. "I'm going to make sure you're real sorry though. Is that okay?" He runs his hand along my thigh. Oh. I nod. "Words, princess."

"Yes. Yes, that's okay." He grins, looking up at me from his position near my waist. God, he looks like a fucking angel. A sexy ass angel, a fucking demon.

"No more nice guy, for now." He pulls his jersey off with one arm. I can't help but let out a groan.

"You're so fucking pretty." I run my hands across his chest and shoulders, moving my hands to his neck. I pull him down, into a searing kiss. He fumbles with my blanket, which had pooled around my waist with all the movement. He pulls it back, breaking our kiss.

"No pants?" He slides his hand up to my ass. "No underwear? Dirty girl." My face warms. "You like that? Fucking good." He pulls my shirt off. "I'm going to fuck the shit out of you. Got that?"

"Yes-" I gasp. "Yes sir." He rests his forehead on mine, and lets out the sexiest moan I've ever heard. Abruptly, he gets up and off of me.

"Come here." He offers his hand. I take it without a second thought. He flips me around, bending me over my own bed. My face pressed into the sheets, his dick pressed against me through his pants, his hand over the back of my own. "Stay, just like this for me. Okay?"

His hand leaves me for a moment. When he comes back, his dick is pressed bare to my skin. "Fuck, Chris. I need it." His hand returns to its place on top of my own.

"Say it real nice." He whispers to me.

"Please, fuck me, Chris?" He groans, before lining himself up and sinking into me. The stretch aches so fucking good. "Yes-" His other hand finds my free one, grasping it firmly. He pulls his hips back, before sinks back into me. He goes slowly for a few thrusts.

"Hold on ma." This is the only warning I get before he begins fucking me into oblivion. I lose track of time. It feels like he goes on, molding my insides to his shape, for forever. Before I know it, I'm tightening around him and screaming, grasping the sheets for my life.

"That's right ma. Squeeze my dick so good." He lightly bite my shoulder, only adding to the amount of sensation. "Aw fuck, ma. You feel so fucking good." My orgasm finally finishes out. As the last waves of pleasure are receding, he pulls out, shooting his load between my thighs instead of in me. He rests his head on my back for a moment, breathing hard against my skin.

He pulls away. I can't muster the energy to move even an inch. Shit. Tears begin to well up in my eyes, I don't even know why I'm so fucking emotional.

"Hey baby. M gonna wipe you down." Chris whispers, wiping his cum off my thighs with a warm cloth. "You did so well, ma. Took me so well. I'm so proud of you. I love you." He adds it on at the end, like he wasn't sure he should say it or not. Then, he moves me completely onto the bed before climbing in next to me.

"I love you too." I tuck myself against his chest, resting my head on his shoulder. I lace my hand into his hair. "I love you so much."

"I love you more. Now, let's nap. Fucking you that hard took it out of me." He lays a kiss on my hairline and cuddles in closer. In his arms, I let myself drift off.

@bethsturn here you go!! sorry if it's not great :,)

[speedierthanasubmarine]

I decided to watch helluva boss and imma do 2 separate posts for seasons 1 and two (why did I write it like that…?)

Season one

God I love this show. The writing is way more my speed than Hazbin hotel on Amazon, I enjoyed the writing in the pilot, but once Amazon took over the humor just didn’t really land for me, and tbh the plot took over and I started focusing more on that, and in general I’m more partial to the rapid fire YouTube dry comedy and this sentence is a friggin mess- I found HB SO FREAKIN FUNNY

Dude when he goes “FUCK, a new hole” I lost it

“Just try and sue us”

“We’re rich and we’re hot”

“I can just buy all the things!”

“You should commit die”

“Hehe, Trumpet!”

These are just my kinda lines, I don’t know how to explain it, I was wheezing all throughout the season

The music OH LORD when I say I’ve listened to stolas’s lullabye, lulu land, cotton candy, and house of ozmodius like 100000 times I’m… exaggerating but like you get the point the music here is friggin fantastic I also really like how a lot of the music is diegetic, I think that’s a fun touch. I don’t remember whether this is the case in Hazbin, but in this one it was like… I don’t know, it made sense that they were singing when they were singing… am I articulating myself well? I don’t care, iykyk if not, no prob

The animation is great, Viv loves them spinny shots and I am here for it. The amount of genuinely amazing action scenes is super impressive, and even the chill scenes have a ton of personality

The voice acting might be what steals the show for me, idrk anyone’s names cept Alex Brightman but BLITZS VA NEEDS AN AWARD, also slight tangent but I don’t know what it is with stolas’s va but he sounds a lot like a bird in the same sense that Gary Oldman sounded a lot like a bird in Kung Fu Panda 2, what is it that casting directors recognize in actors that screams bird?! Because both of these men are just SO BIRD DOES ANYONE GET WHAT I MEAN moving on, Ozzie’s voice was also effing PERFECT it slid silkily over me like… silk butter or smtg it was the perfect lust voice, I loved it. Everyone else was also great, but they were extra great.

It was also just so fun? Like in hazbin there’s very little just… shenanigans to enjoy, nothing wrong with that because it’s not that type of show, whereas this season is jam packed with them. Like I’ve heard that everyone hated episode 4, but like I don’t know I loved it😆 I just found it to be good old fashioned chicanery, and I liked the chaos and stupidity of it, made for some entertaining TV. This story engine is just mad entertaining for me.

I also enjoyed the writing of most of the characters (Millie, Moxxie, Loona, and Octavia still leave a bit to be desired imo, but whatever, they can’t all be winners and there’s nothing wrong with them) Blitz kinda reminds me of a Barney Stinson type character, which I really enjoy, and I also really like how his boss persona kinda infects everything he does while simultaneously being what’s screwing him over, his nature is kinda like a snake swallowing its own tail, which is tragic and beautiful, and Stolas compliments him well by being, not an enabler, but… I don’t know a clever way to say this… Stolas is a wreck in the best way and he just works. He’s short sighted, like extremely so, like how he thinks sleeping with Blitz will fill his emotional void so he does it but it just drives them further apart so it’s like he’s in a hole and in order to get out he’s gonna dig to pile up dirt so he can climb out but he’s an idiot and that’s a stupid idea and I loved his whole arc. Very enjoyable stuff drama.

Kinda random but whoever Viv’s foli artist is also deserves an award, the sound effects in this show are pristine and it’s incredible (yes I’ve seen the scene where the gun sounds go off a few seconds too late, and yeah, mistakes happen, but every bone crunch sounds and other stuff like that being so enunciated in an indie show is extremely impressive)

Anyhoo, very fun, very emotional, nice to look at, very funny, yada yada- altogether great season 1.

[theellipelli]

Haii!!!

I’ve just recently read ur Nostalgic Chill fic and I loved it sm!! I love Yanqing , there’s not as much content of him as I’d like in the ao3 department so I thank u sm cuz of it

Also bc of the found family, and Jing Yuan, literally love them all

I was wondering, if you had any like writing advice? I used to love writing and I would post frequently, but I’ve gotten out of it and the last time I wrote a published thing was last yr and it was a one shot

Just wondering if u have any advice on how to really consistently post or just get back into in general?

thank you for the love!!

as for my advice on getting back into writing? read books!!! i always recommend classics, or award-winners. any thought provoking literature, something not too easily digestible. i loove fanfiction and consume it en masse, but it should not be the only thing you read if you wanna write some yourself.

but also, remember to write for yourself! i have written maaaany fics and prompts that I just. haven't posted. i like writing as a creative outlet, and the day is start viewing it as anything besides a hobby is probably the day ill stop writing

the pressure of performing is ROUGH and it is suffocating like a biiitch. it gets you. slowly. silently. deadly. wrings you dry before you even realise. your best writing will come to you when you feel your best and most at ease. like, my favourite piece of writing was written on my phone one summer while I was sitting outside in scorching sunlight waiting for my boss to come and unlock the restaurant I worked at. that was two years ago. ive written 200k words since. and yet nothing has topped it.

tldr, read books, dont feel too pressured to write, and write when you feel like it! it is still only a hobby, after all!

[creationality-productions]

Verdict on All classic Sonic Zones pt 6 (Sonic 1, Sonic CD, Sonic 2, Sonic 3, Sonic & Knuckles, & Sonic Mania)

Sonic Mania:

Angel Island Zone: Great Cutscene & Unless Ur in Encore Mode U Can't Play the Zone Regularly, but if Ur in Encore Mode, then this Zone Is Cool to be back in, i guess.

Green Hill Zone Act 1: Here Me Out! What if we Take Green Hill Zone and give it better level design and enhance its Music. I Like this version of Green Hill Zone Better than The Sonic 1 Version. Green Hill Zone Act 2: Awesome Visuals and Level Aesthetic with Great Music & Level Design + New Gimmicks!

Chemical Plant Zone Act 1: Great Music Remix and Better Level Design. Chemical Plant Zone Act 2: Syringes that change Raw Mega Mack to bouncy jelly? Yes Please! DNA Strands That take up And Sticky Jelly Platforms? I Like That! & A Boss Based around DR. Robotnik's Mean Bean Machine! U Can't Go Wrong with This Act & Its Remixed Music! Studiopolis Zone Act 1: Lights, Camera, Action! The Music, Level Aesthetics, & Speed Sections are awesome. there's even a Throwback to the Sega Sonic Popcorn Shop and The Lock on Cartridge Technology Form Back in the Day when Sega Had Made Sonic & Knuckles! Studiopolis Zone Act 2: Its Prime Time! If Ur Looking for Gimmicks up the Wazoo & Better Level Design, Then This Act is Ur choice. It's Actually My Choice over Act 1 (Lights, Camera, Action!) but act one is a Very Close Second!

Flying Battery Zone Act 1: The Remixed Music Is Great, Better Level Design Than The original, And a great New Mechanic! (Electric Shield on the Electric Roofs) Flying Battery Zone Act 2: Great Act 2 Remix Music & Level Design. + the Rain aesthetics & Reference to wacky workbench were nice touches. Bad Boss Though...

Press Garden Zone Act 1: Working in the Tabloid Jargon! The Music Is Phenomenally Amaizing! The Level aesthetics and Gimmicks are Awesome & The Level Design Is Really Good + There's a lot of references to Launch Base Zone. This is Definitely a great Zone and My 2nd Favorite. It's also Great to listen to this while Ur working or cleaning! (I don't see a lot of people caring about the 1st act of PGZ, just listen to the Music and you'll see!) Press Garden Zone Act 2: Its A Blossom Haze! NGL, i think PGZ ACT 2 is Awesome. Blossom Haze Is Really Chill and Stuff with Ice Blowers From ICZ, Ice Spikes & New Mechanics. Though all that's Awesome, I don't want People to Forget Tabloid Jargon the Greatest Work Ethic Sonic Zone and also the only Sonic Work Ethic Zone, Cause many of People Forget Press Garden Zone (Mainly Act 1), But This Zone Should Be a National Zone Treasure. Act 2 Is Still Awesome but i Prefer Act 1.

Stardust Speedway Zone Act 1: Groovy Dude! The Sonic Mania Remix Was So Solid Man! They Bring Back Every Groovy Part of the original SSZ From CD with great Level Design, Groovy Elements, And Many References to Marble Garden Zone! Stardust Speedway Zone Act 2: Now here's The Superior Act Between The two, the first Act and The Second act are tied For Best act Music but there are lots of things to like in this act, especially the Metal Sonic Boss!

HydroCity Zone Act 1: I love HydroCity Zone, Especially Act 2 but Act 1 Really Wins the award for Most Gimmicks and Gameplay. Its Great to See a Zone Like This Return, Especially Since Sonic Mania Needed a good Water Zone and I'm Absolutely Astounded that it returned & That the Music Is Remixed to the point where i could sit and listen to it for hours. HydroCity Zone Act 2: NGL, I'm Just as Happy Seeing HydroCity Return in Sonic Mania as Etika & Cobanermani 456 are. HydroCity Was a Great Nostalgic Return, I Loved Everything about This Act in S3&K and I Love Everything About It Here! I'm Glad They Didn't Change the Gimmicks and just Stayed True to the original, And That Remix Is Fire!

Mirage Saloon Zone Act 1: Skyway Octane Is a Great Music Piece & The Zone Has Some Great Aesthetics, But I'm Not a Fan of the Plane Part or the Boss. I Do like That Team Hooligans returned as part of the act 2 Boss & I do Like the Knuckles Version of Act 1 Called Wildstyle Pistolero. Mirage Saloon Zone Act 2: So, as I Stopped by The Rogues Gallery, I Noticed, This Music Is Bomb! It's Really Great. Here's the Weirdest part, I used to hate MSZ Before I played Sonic Mania. Now that i Know that this Zone is Great, I can say that I love the Handguns, Pinatas, Lightbulbs, Bumpalos, The Water Sprayers, and The Boss!

Oil Ocean Zone Act 1: Well i didn't expect this one to return, they had to have a Balancer Zone (AKA control Variable) in there and here it is. I never Liked his zone until it got a Great Mania Remix & Better Level Design Oil Ocean Zone Act 2: Thí- Hey Wait a Minute... It's JUST SANDOPOLIS ZONE IN DISGUISE! WHY SONIC MANIA, WHY DID U THINK THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA! OF ALL IDEAS YOU COULD HAVE BRUNG BACK, U BRING THIS BACK! (Calming Down) At least the music is great, but it gives off a Desert music Feeling which isn't the best feeling.

Lava Reef Zone Act 1: NGL, I love the Comeback, i Love the Mania Remix, I love the New Mechanics and Aesthetics like the bridges & Buttons, but I kind of prefer the Original Because 16-bit music for this zone is awesome & Nostalgia. This Music track is awesome whether or not the Original Inches forward or not. Lava Reef Zone Act 2: The Mystic Cave Feeling and The Cooled Crystal Feeling Have Been Amplified Due to the Music & Atmosphere. The Mechanic from Quartz Quadrant Was a Nice Touch & The Music Is Really Good with a Soft guitar Playing, Awesome!

Metallic Madness Zone Act 1: Bro, if you hate this act, u don't Know life. This Zones Music Is Fire, there's lots of Mechanics True to The Original and new Mechanics, the Music Is Phenomenal, The Level Aesthetics are Greatly Respected & The level Design is Great. I even thought out my own Lyrics (First verse: Check the Mic, Yō, We'll Break Down the Madness. Roll Out the Door, Straight Up, Storm the Castle. Imma Blast off, I Have No Fatigue. Out Of My League, Naughty Egg, You Can See the Crew. Second Verse: Now, Check Out my moves, check out My Speed, How's It really Feeling? Going Fast with The Doctor at My Feet. I Live in The Fast Track. You're Getting In my Way. I Carry the Day "Hey!" Cause I (Na, Na, Na, Na) RUN!). At least I think they're the right ones. Metallic Madness Zone Act 2: Oh Man! That Saxophone, The Level Aesthetics, Chibi Sonic, And the Music in General Is All So Awesome! Though Spikes up the wazoo are not fun, but the zone's music tells me to forget about it.

Titanic Monarch Zone Act 1: I'm in no Monarch... well unless u count this zone (Rim Shot). We All Know this Zone Was Built to Rule (Name of the Song), But It Has its Ups and Downs Like the Death Egg Act 1 Boss Came Back, The Mechanics & Gimmicks are awesome, The Spikes & Enemies Get even more tedious, and The Level aesthetic was heading for a Robot Building in Progress like Launch Base. so out of everything, this zone is just bad. Titanic Monarch Zone Act 2: If you hated final bosses in sonic Games, then you'll hate this One! I sure do! I don't like how if you're not careful, you'll get sent to the beginning of the area. Really tedious Stuff. The Steel Cortex music is good, but not the best music.

Egg Reverie Zone: The true final boss is pretty hard, but it doesn't have the best music compared to the big arms fight.

Part 7 Is Coming Soon (When I Play the new 2d Sonic Game)

[sea-dukes-assistant]

The Crown Season 5 Thoughts

Why did I watch this?

Why do I need to know Dodi likes rolepay during sexytimes?

I barely remember TV Sea Duke even being in a scene let alone saying anything

BIRB!

*does chores during an entire episode* *Bae falls asleep*

Margo's finally chilled out and is totally the cool aunt. I'd rather drink with her than Sea Duke and it kills me to say that but CHRIST Jonathan Pryce make him so fucking boring!

IDK how old Diana is at this point but like...she still acts and pouts like a child

At least it wasn't insinuated the Sir was fucking Penny LIKE IT WAS EVERY OTHER GODDAMN SEASON. My sanity finally gets a break.

Anne just comes in and bosses everyone around I guess? Definitely got more of The Windsors vibe this time.

Yeeeaaahhhh I can't do anything with any of this fanfic wise...except maybe one scene

*pours one out for the love boat HMY Britannia* Ma'am got hella dicked down on that ship. Bae: *wipes a tear and thinks I don't notice*

The most memorable part of all of this was King George V's birb. I need to know that actor's name. That birb deserves all the awards, just like my wife Claire Foy.

[profanetools]

forgot to tag that last poll, oops. the fact that polls are uneditable will be my villain origin story.

anyway, I was thinking about running a weekly silly first council poll. american yearbook style, "who would be most likely to ____?" except goofier (when we did spins on it at school, it was always goofier). for laffs and fun.

currently thinking about the following:

sexiest (duh)

MVP

life of the party / best at parties

poor little meow meow (also a tumblr classic)

most unjustly hated, 'is actually right'

trans award / honorary trans award

would be the best first date

would you like to invite to a fantasy dinner party

would be the worst service industry (mcdonalds drivethru?) employee

most likely to kill a houseplant

best at assembling IKEA furniture

most likely to be an opera singer/academy award winning actor/hacktivist/mob boss/etc. in another life (need to think of better jobs for this one)

The Boethiah Award (TM) for the most deceitful and treacherous plotter

most likely to have committed tax fraud

who would you most likely get into the terrible, terrible twitter beef with

most likely to be a toxic microinfluencer

has the best music library

biggest nerd

silliest :3 member

if they were the Last Dragonborn, they'd be the best at it

if they were the Last Dragonborn, they'd be the worst at it.

a lot of these have the potential to start tesblr ww3, and as much as I'd like to use them, this fandom is not chill enough

i'd also like to take submissions/ideas for this too. make it more collaborative.

[scribbly-dee]

Inspired by this post

I adore corruption arcs, so I graded how well the non-archivist characters would have damned humanity if they had been the archivist.

Sasha James 11/10, would be an ideal archivist, this plus her height is probably why the stranger monster targeted her before she could peak

I have a soft spot for any au that knows Sasha has never seen a brain cell in her life and that any unhinged!Sasha au is really just a regular Sasha au. Picture it with me. Sasha and Jon have parallel archivist tracks, until Sasha (my beloved show off) decides: you know what would make me more efficient at snooping? Becoming a Human Google. And things accelerate. The Web doesn't even need to bother with subtly magic lighters, it slaps all 14 marks on her at once by pulling up next to Sasha in a windowless van with "free secrets 👍" written on the side.

After the Unknowing, Sasha takes over the institute from Elias instead of Martin and Peter. With Tim dead, Jon in a coma, Martin lonely-snatched, Melanie compulsively homicidal, Daisy in the coffin, and Basira on autopilot, she quickly bonds with Rosie, the ultimate nosiness enabler. Sasha is a fully marked archivist for a good long while, but doesn't start the apocalypse right away because she's eager to read ALL the ominous notes Elias left, so the watcher's crown statement is in her to-be-read pile. When the apocalypse starts (Rosie: "Hey, Sasha, I just read something extra fucked up that Elias wrote, wanna see?" Sasha: "God yes."), she books it to become the pupil with Rosie as her anchor. Mayhapse an anchor-archivist polycule with Archivist Jon and Martin? Mayhapse Jon is just a normal eye avatar here and deeply invested in all of Sasha's eyepocalypse statements, so it's Sasha and her plus-three? Mayhapse it's a race across the eyepocalypse wasteland between Archivist Sasha and Archivist Jon to usurp Jonah and become the pupil?

Tim Stoker 2/10 dude's here for a good time, not a long time

The only way I see this working is if Elias disguises not-stranger clues as circus related so Tim is motivated to investigate. Otherwise, his archival assistants are way more curious than him and disobey his direct orders to 🍹chill🏝. Jon, Sasha, and Martin inadvertently bring marks home to him like cats bring home dead birds. He asserts his agency when he decides the best course of action? Actually? Just blow up the archives. This unfortunately puts him in a false sense of security, and Elias makes him read the watcher's crown statement by cat fishing him on grindr and sending the ritual as a dm mid conversation.

Daisy Tonner - 9/10 archivist, would have started doomsday before she was at the archivist job long enough to use her PTO

Daisy already had a lot of experience hunting down fear-entity-related people in sectioned cases, which means she possibly canonically already has all the marks from just hunting avatars who use their powers in self defense. The reason she lost one point is because she's too much of a jock to read, only nerds are culpable to watcher crown statements, so this would be the only delay but oh what a delay it will be.

Melanie King - 7/10 archivist, points awarded for achieving her breakthroughs by smashing her head against a wall until she literally breaks through, points deducted for doing so in full clown makeup.

If Jon got a handful of marks by just asking anoying questions in the same room as an avatar, imagine how much faster Melanie would get marks by bringing her trademark Chaotic Brat personality on fear entity investigations. The apocalypse would have started in like two seasons: one season to hire her off the streets and establish shakey, complex relationships with her new assistants (Jon and Sasha put in the time with the institute but were passed over on this promotion for some random YouTuber (plus they're tighter with Tim and Martin, so proletarian solidarity against the boss)).

Then a second season to stab every mark and get stabbed in return. Melanie would blitz through all 14 marks because what precious little impulse control she starts with is slowly replaced with slaughter juice. One fun moral ambiguity to explore could be if Melanie tries to use her new, dangerous Eye/Slaughter powers to revive her reputation and platform in the supernatural community now that she can, ya know, identify supernatural things for the first time ever. Does she acknowledge her entire career up to her hospital episode apparently only investigated fake sightings? A better question to ask is whether Basira, Tim, and Jon ever let her live down how Ghost Hunt UK's professional dignity was contingent on the legitimacy of her sCiEnTiFiC gHoSt eQuIpMeNt in those episodes, so the temperature spikes set to dramatic music were well and truly just temperature spikes and dramatic music. Sasha found a clip of that music playing as Melanie narrates "it's a message... from the other side..." and made it as her text tone.

Also, it would be hilarious if Melanie tried to kill Jonah on sight in the panopticon, once again botched assassination attempt number 1,963,538, and then Jon quietly snuck in to finish the job on his first try just like in canon.

Jon: "What, like it's hard?"

Basira Hussain 3/10 archivist, her eye alignment manifests as office gossip, like a normal person

Basira has the most formidable super power of all: the power to nope tf out of any conversation or plan she wants. She therefore would probably take 10x longer to start the apocalypse than any other archivist because her fatal flaw is refusal to directly engage with a lot of personally difficult things (like the slaughter bullet surgery she organized, Daisy In General, etc). The marks will be slow going if she resists putting her safety on the line or invests time in making good plans (which is smart, but unhelpful for dooming humanity). She would for sure still get marked and end the world because once she's convinced of a plan (aka Elias convinces her of a plan), she's ruthlessly efficient. So I'd stay out of her way that last year or two, she marks the entities right back at them.

Martin Blackwood 2/10 archivist, considering a prerequisite for creepy eye avatar staring is the ability to make eye contact.

S1 Archivist Martin would probably dote too much on the employees under him to be hugely susceptible to Elias' isolation-dependant manipulation. Any progress Martin inadvertently achieves toward the watcher's crown goal would have to be contingent on it helping his loved ones, which is perfect fuel for a "corrupted by good intentions" arc. This would be key because Martin has superb bullshit and manipulation detection, making the marks are tricky but not impossible to orchistrate considering Jon can't stay put in a safe corner for 10 minutes and Martin's mother would refuse to stay with him where she's safe from avatar threats.

Imagine the petty drama when Jon and Sasha learn he got the promotion they wanted because he lied on his CV.

Other than that, Martin would be even worse about pit stops on the apocalypse road trip than Jon because his Kill Bill mode would have no off switch. Does Archivist!Martin and his anchor Jon ever reach the panopticon? Eventually, but not until after they lose points for significantly reducing the apocalypse fear quantity. Would Annabelle survive to deliver her cryptic MaCHiNAtIoNs and achieve the Web's goal? Hard No, additional point reduction for neutralizing the multiverse invasion. Points potentially earned back if Martin's Web connection is strong enough to come up with the multiverse invasion plan on his own, though.

Georgie Barker 4/10, as a fearless coward, all the fear she feeds to the entities would be khaki flavored. They'd get their apocalypse, but they probably wouldn't enjoy the meal.

Similar to Basira, Georgie has the super power to Fuck This Shit I'm Out. She would overall be a subpar humanity damning archivist; a major archivist success factor of Jon's is that he has enough affective empathy to be afraid with every statement giver he reads, so when Jon archives a statement, he unintentionally contributes to the fear soup seasoning. Combined with how Georgie doesn't want anything to do with entity drama, so any corruption specific to the watcher's crown would stagnate. Even her casual exposition conversations would go like

Georgie: "I've connected no dots."

Melanie: "you've connected a lot of dots??"

Georgie: "I've connected shit all dots."

The reason she gets one more point than Basira is because Georgie's fatal flaw is the passive observer quality the Eye tried to stoke in Jon. Her level of engagement oscillates between two extremes, impulsive over commitment and judging from a distance. This would probably lead her to geting involved just long enough for her involvement to become irreversible, at which point she would try to cut that shit out of her life after it's trapped her. She'd linger, barricading herself on the margins of this problem as the marks that are targeted at her slowly tally up until boom. Apocalypse is on and she only half understands what's happening.

Georgie would wander around an apocalypse hellscape confused, but vibes and physical health fully intact. Anchor!Melanie would have quite the emotional journey starting with Georgie on that pedestal Melanie placed her, and ending with a slaughter avatar stabbing the person who convinced her to work on her slaughter inclination.

[tlbodine]

The Crimson Lion

In which I illustrate a dream I had, with the help of Dall-e Mini AI

--

It's the day of a big event, a convention that will culminate in an awards ceremony. My boss and his long-term work partner are dressed in their finest business attire, prepared to accept a lifetime achievement award. They are bickering over some old idea that one almost certainly stole from the other, though neither can remember which one thought it up first these long decades later.

I am lingering at the fringes of conversation, eavesdropping on my various coworkers. But I'm distracted, irritable. There is a red, hard-sided suitcase in my hands, and possessing it is making me nervous. It's very heavy. I'm also worried because I looked at my bullet journal this morning, and it was full of memories of a life I have not led, and all the plans end abruptly at a near-future date, as if I could no longer imagine life after a specific time.

That time is tomorrow.

I carry the suitcase out with me down a long hallway. I'm on a spaceship. The whole city is on this ship now, a floating ark. I have some dim awareness of a life before, of a world existing outside of this ship, but I have been here for a very long time. I cross through a park and reach an open air courtyard where a string quartet is set up, playing background music for the upcoming event.

I set the suitcase down. But it swings open, the clasps snapping, and though I cannot see it, I am aware that something has been released. A chill of fear rolls through my body. It is behind me. I dare not turn to look. But I am peripherally aware of it anyway.

An enormous crimson lion, its body made of galaxies, stars swirling through red mist. Its eyes are two golden suns. It stands behind me and opens its terrible jaws.

Its roar is low and vast, a clear bellowing foghorn that unleashes a crimson blade of sound. It slices through the air, a sonic wave drenched scarlet, and every human it touches is sliced perfectly and cleanly in half. The halves fall apart and are vaporized before they hit the ground.

The instruments fall.

The music ceases.

Everywhere is silence.

I AM THE GOD OF DESTRUCTION. MINE IS A DOMAIN OF LONELINESS AND SORROW. MY VOICE IS DEATH.

The lion's words pierce my awareness. I stand frozen, the only living soul left on the ship, and understanding radiates through my body, trembling with the weight of his words.

FOR EONS I HAVE BEEN LOCKED AWAY, BUT MY SLUMBER IS NOT ETERNAL. THE HEART OF EXISTENCE IS DYING. I COME FOR ALL IN THE END.

The lion begins to pad away from me, moving toward the air lock to step neatly through into space beyond, not needing to bother with doors or walls.

THIS WAS YOUR DOING, BUT IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT. IT IS MY NATURE TO CHOOSE A FINAL WITNESS, MY COMPANION FOR THE APOCALYPSE. YOUR FATE HAS BEEN WRITTEN SINCE BEFORE YOU WERE BORN.

And then I am alone, drenched in silence, painfully aware of the absence of my companions on the ship.

How far did his scream reach, I wonder? Did that terrible blade of sound pierce the universe, or was it confined by this ship? Now that he has escaped into the void of space, will galaxies now bear witness to his destruction? Will each of those worlds have a survivor left behind as well, or am I destined to be the very last observer of a dying universe?

Someone coughs.

I turn to look, astonished.

It's a man who works in the ship's kitchen. We've known each other a long time, and we've never particularly gotten along, but in this moment he is the most beautiful and precious human who has ever existed.

He looks at me, wide-eyed and panicked. It's not clear how much he understands about what is going on, or what he might have seen. But he clearly has the wrong idea about me, and my intentions.

"Hey," I say, trying to sound calm and soothing. "Something has happened. We're...we're alone, now. The two of us."

"No we're not," he says. "Mother is with me."

That doesn't seem right. I might be misremembering, but I'm almost certain that his mother died long ago, back on the home planet. Many of us left tragedies behind when we boarded this ship.

"When did you speak with her last?" I ask.

"I speak with her all the time," he protests, and then gestures to a vent in the floor. "She speaks to me through there."

I look at the vent. It opens into the ventilation shaft. There is no one there. But I address it all the same. No one replies, not even the echo of my own voice.

"Can I make you a drink?" I ask the man, because our ship may be deserted but the bar in the kitchen remains fully stocked.

He eyes me warily and then backs away, shuffling nearer the air lock where the lion had vanished. I approach, trying not to spook him, when something catches my eye.

A whistle. A simple, unobtrusive silver dog whistle, the kind whose sound does not register to human ears. I bend and pick it up, holding it in my palm.

And realize, with a rush of awareness and knowledge, that The Crimson Lion has a brother. It has always been so, in the stories.

How did I ever allow myself to forget the stories?

I put my lips to the whistle and blow, a brief, tentative note beyond the register of my hearing.

Vines sprout and grow up, clinging to the smooth ship walls around the air lock.

Of course, I think. It's all so clear.

The reason the Crimson Lion always chooses a witness. The purpose of the person left behind to bear witness to destruction is so that someone can step forward to become the new god of creation in his wake.

I take a deep breath. Brace myself against the vacuum of space. Open the airlock, and blow as hard as I can.

The whistle makes no sound. But emanating from it is a green haze, a wall like the sonic blade that tore through the air. But this one is softer. It smells like fresh-cut grass and gentle rain.

I fall back onto a grassy place and see that the air lock has disappeared. Ahead of me is just a green tunnel, lush with vegetation, leading out into the unknown.

I climb to my feet and step forward through the grass and feel something rushing past me. I look down and see dogs, dozens of them, all shapes and sizes. Some normal and cute. Some twisted and strange, fleshless, furless, bony things with wide empty sockets for eyes and forked lizard tongues.

They run past me.

I follow, into the new, unknown world of my creation. I am its new and uncertain god, and I know not what I have made.

[anagentinwriting]

Lifeline - Part 12

Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader

Word Count: 8700+ (whoops!)

Warnings: Angst, language, fluff, jumper/suicidal, snakes

Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist

AN: Flashbacks in italics

You yawned at your reflection in the mirror, bringing tears to the corner of your eyes. Today was the softball tournament, and Steve was picking you up at 6:30 in the morning. Unlucky for you, when you agreed to go with him as his date, you didn’t think it started this early. Station 107 was playing in one of the first two games of the day. It wasn’t a huge bracket with only twelve teams competing from different fire stations, dispatch call centers, paramedic units, and police departments. Nat and Clint’s West LA Police Department won last year, and they were hoping for another win.

You sighed, splashing your face with cold water, hoping it would shock your body awake, but it only made your face cold. You grabbed a towel, dabbing your face as you stared at your reflection. Your eyes shined back at you, and you couldn’t help the small approving smile spread across your lips. You shake your head, reverting your eyes back to the counter. Only an insane person smiles at themselves in the mirror, but you couldn’t help but look at yourself. Really look at yourself. You looked different, but it was a good different; no dark shadows under your eyes, a calm, relaxed expression, and a smile that came so much easier.

You were happy. It was a weird feeling, waking up refreshed without fear coursing through your veins. You were never going to be the person you were before you met him or even the person you were when you were with him; a weak, abused, and frightened woman. No, this was a whole new you. A stronger you that was finally letting old wounds heal and allowing yourself to move on and start over. You let out a deep breath as your phone vibrated on the bathroom counter. 

Steve: Good morning. I’m outside ;)

YN: Be out in a second

You sighed, slipping on the baseball cap Thor gave you to wear with LAFD (Los Angeles Fire Department) stitched on the front with their station number on the back. You let out a breath and smiled at yourself. It was a new exciting feeling, a feeling of improvement, and a fresh start.

________

You sat on the bleachers watching the game between Station 107 and Station 93. The whole team wore the same dark blue station shirt, grey sweatpants, and the same cap you had on. Your eyes scanned the field, finding Steve covering first base. The car ride over didn’t do any justice to his uniform. His shirt was stretched tight across his chest with his biceps bulging out from his tight sleeves, and his joggers hugged tight to his quads. He caught you staring, giving you a little wave before hitting his hand into his glove. 

The game was slow to watch, with the lead changing almost every inning.  Every time the batter hit the ball, your breath caught in your throat, waiting to see how it would play out. You were caught up in the game when out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar redhead. 

“Hey, YN. Guess what? We won!” She nudged you on the arm.  “How are Val and the boys doing?” 

“Winning, but not by much. Carol needs to get her ass here. I think they’re feeling lost without their Captain,” you smiled, and she nodded in agreement. “Her shift ended about 10 minutes ago, so she should be on her way, and then she’ll set them straight.”

“Yeah, I noticed that. Like, why is Thor catcher?” she pointed at him. “And Bucky at second base? I mean, he can run, put him in the outfield.”

“I was wondering the same thing, but then I realized he already got to second base with you, so...”

“Oh shut up,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “He hit a home run, but I could say the same about you and Steve.”

“And you’d be wrong; we haven’t even got to first base yet.”

“Wait, what!” She slapped your arm. “But, I thought you two have been hanging out for like two weeks. I figured you two would be doing a little somethin-somethin,” she teased, nudging you in the side. 

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I get why you’d think that, but we’re in no rush,” you insisted with a half shrug, earning a nod from her.

You heard a car door slam and glanced over your shoulder to see Carol charging over to the dugout with her cap and aviators on. 

“The boss lady has arrived,” Nat announced loud enough for Carol to shoot you two a smirk. 

Everyone huddled around her in the dugout. She used all kinds of hand gestures, some a little inappropriate, but her team stood together, nodding their heads and hanging onto every word like they do when they are on call. With it being a single-elimination tournament, they couldn’t afford to lose. It might have been a charity event, but some teams still came wanting to have bragging rights until next year. When she stood up, they broke apart, and it seemed like everyone's energy changed from defeated to conquering. It was like they finally suited up and wanted to win with two innings left.

Carol was a competitive person and always felt like she needed to take an extra step to prove herself. Growing up, she never got along with her parents; they always insisted she couldn’t do something because she was a girl. No matter how many times she got knocked down, she would always get back up and try again. When she got the job as Captain of the 107th, many men under her didn’t want to follow her orders or be controlled by a woman. Many of those ignorant men left her station, even though she proved herself time and time again. She earned the respect of a few firefighters who stuck around, and to those, she felt earned her respect as well. With everything she has gone through to get this far, you couldn’t help but admire her. 

A slight chill ran up your spine, sending a tingling sensation coursing through your body. It forced the hair on your arms to stand up straight and make your hands shake. You rubbed them together, glancing over your shoulder, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. You gulped, sitting up straighter, getting the feeling of someone’s eyes on you. You bite your lip, scanning the faces one by one until they landed on Nat.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, seeing Clint take off running to a van. “But it looks like your cheering section has arrived.” 

“On that note, I will be back--” she patted your leg “--I have to go hug my favorite niece and nephews.”

She stepped down the bleachers with a huge grin on her face and ran towards the van. Clint’s daughter met her halfway and pulled her into a hug. She hopped on Nat’s back, and Nat gave her a piggyback ride back over to her parents. You smiled at their interaction. It was such a simple gesture, but it meant so much to both of them. 

Family has always been important to you; even when you didn’t think they would be there for you, they still showed up. You always thought you were the glue that held Thor and Loki together, but now, you were almost positive they were the ones holding you together. 

Your eyes focused back on the game to see Station 107 heading back out to the field. They were up 3 points, heading into the top of the 7th inning. You couldn’t help but notice that Carol changed their field positions; Bucky and Thor moved to the outfield, but Steve stayed put at first. It’s surprising how moving a few players around made it look like a brand new team, and the game quickly ended with three straight outs, advancing them to the next round. They shook hands with the other team before huddling together in the dugout. 

Thor was the first to leave the huddle, making his way over to you with a closed mouth smile plastered on his face. He hit the bill of your hat and continued to walk past you. 

“Hey! What was that for,” you shouted at him over your shoulder. 

“Felt like it,” he grinned with a shrug, walking backwards. 

“Jerk,” you said under your breath, readjusting your hat as Steve approached you. 

“Hope you weren’t too bored.” 

“No, it was entertaining, watching you all fall over your feet until Danvers showed up and helped you pull off a win.”

“It wasn’t that bad. We kept a good pace with them all the way to the end. Just needed an extra push from Danvers,” he chuckled, putting his hands on his hips. “Did you want to get breakfast?” He offered, pointing to the line of food trucks behind you.

“What....no Wade’s Chimichangas?”

“I don’t think I have the stomach for that this early in the morning.” He rubbed his stomach before offering his hand to you. You took it with a chuckle, walking over to one of the most famous breakfast trucks in LA, Stan Lee Scrambles.

Thor had mentioned to you once before how Stan and his old firefighter crew decided to open up a food truck after they gained popularity. It started out small but soon became very successful, and they had to get a second truck. Everyone loved them, the food, and how they gave back to their community. They didn’t have a huge array of options, but it revolved heavily around breakfast items, including their award-winning breakfast sandwich, The Egg-celsior, a sausage bacon egg english muffin sandwich.

“What can I get you, Big Guy,” the old man, wearing tinted glasses and an old fire station hat, asked Thor.  

“Well, Stan...I will take two Egg-celsiors with a side of hash browns and a parfait,” Thor replied, squinting his eyes at the menu. “I think that will do for now, my good man.”

“Coming up, Big Guy.” You smirked at Stan’s nickname for your brother and moved up in line with Steve.  “Hiya, Steve. How’s your dog...Cosmo, right?” Stan asked, putting his elbows on the truck's small counter ledge. 

“Yeah, he’s doing much better. He’s gotten a lot more friendly and isn’t as skittish. I’ve been teaching him a few commands and lovin’ up on him.” 

“That’s terrific to hear. Remember, every relationship starts off a little shaky, but before you know it, the two of you will be inseparable.” Steve nodded with a smirk, as did you, reading into the double meaning. “Now, let’s get you two something to eat; what will it be?” 

You and Steve placed your order, and before you could beat him to it, Steve had his wallet out, paying. You shook your head, taking a few steps back to wait for your order to be called. You didn’t miss the subtle wink Stan shot Steve, making your eyes drift to the ground, hoping your hat would hide the bashful smile appearing on your face. 

Steve’s feet came into view, and you looked up at him. “Thanks for breakfast.”

“No problem,” he smiled. 

“So, what are the chances of you winning the next game? Any big competitors you're worried about?”

“I don’t know.” He lifted up his hat, scratching his head as he leaned in close to you, and whispered. “We’re not that good. We might make it to the next round, but I think the final four is as far as we’ll get.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Observation.” You narrowed your eyes at him as he tilted his head to the fields. “For one, one of the games behind us is already up 5 to 0, and they're still in the first inning. Second, Nat and Clint’s department dominated because Clint hits a home run every time he is up to bat. And three, I think we just want to start drinking.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You seem so sure of yourself.”

“I know a thing or two about baseball, and the odds are stacked against us.” Steve shrugged.

“Maybe, I should’ve joined your team. I’m pretty good with a bat,” you smirked, earning a breathy chuckle out of him.

“Maybe next year, you and Bruce can put together a group of individuals…”

“Let me stop you right there. No and no. I’d rather eat, drink, and watch,” you giggled, making Steve nod in understanding.

Your order was called, and you both went to the counter to pick it up. Steve followed behind you, taking a seat at one of the picnic tables with Bucky, Sam, and Thor. You took the spot beside Sam, and Steve sat across from you next to Thor. 

“You did not do that, Sam. I don’t believe you. I bet you made that up,” Thor said, waving his hand around with his Egg-celsior in it.

“I’m not, it’s 100% true.” 

“Lies. All lies this guy.” Thor shook his head, sliding over to give Steve a little more room on the end. 

“What is he lying about?” Steve asked, unwrapping his breakfast sandwich.

“Thor doesn’t believe I ran five miles in thirty minutes.”

“It’s true; we ran it together once,” Steve confirmed, nodding his head. 

Thor rolled his eyes, doing a double-take at someone behind you. “WHAT? Bruce is here! I didn’t know he was coming. YN, did you know he was coming?” Thor pointed at him, talking with Happy by the silent auction tables. 

“He told me he was going to try and make it.” You shrugged, glancing over your shoulder. 

“BRUCE, BRUCE,” Thor called, standing up in a half-sitting half-standing position at the picnic table. “BANNER, BRUCE BANNER.” Bruce noticed him and waved at him, not wanting any attention. “BANNER, IT’S ME, THOR. YOU POPPED MY CHERRY.”

All eyes in the surrounding area stopped what they were doing and looked between Bruce and Thor. You swore you saw Bruce roll his eyes from more than a few hundred feet away and let out an annoyed sigh before he headed over with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders slouched.  “Hey, Thor. Fellas, YN, Carol, Val. How was your first game?”

“We won,” Carol answered from the table next to theirs, where she was sitting with Val.  “It was a tight game before I showed up.”

“We just didn’t want to win without you, Ace,” Bucky smiled at her, forcing her to shake her head.

“Steve, did I ever tell you how I lost my dispatcher cherry to Bruce?” Thor asked as everyone stood up from your table and the table next to yours, besides you and Steve. “Wait, where is everyone going?”

“To watch the next game starting, but tell Steve the story, we have heard it one too many times,” Val stated, stepping out of the picnic table. 

“Yeah, he hasn’t heard it yet; he deserves to hear it at least once,” Sam replied with wide eyes before walking to the bleachers with Bucky, Carol, and Val. 

Thor did love telling the story. Maybe a little too much because each time he told it, you swore he added something new to it or remembered something he forgot the other 15 times he mentioned it. It was a story that only needed to be told once, but Thor liked talking about his first time. 

You shake your head, sneaking a peek at Steve through your eyelashes as a small smirk tugged at your lips. He caught you staring, widening eyes as if he was asking if they should've made a quick getaway, but it was too late for them. 

“That’s right, I did tell those guys,” Thor nodded with an amused smile. “Anyways, Bruce, take a seat. We will tell it together.” 

“No, that’s okay,” Bruce assured, holding his hands up “I got to go and...”

“Nonsense. Take a seat, Banner.” Thor tapped on the spot next to him.

“Okay,” Bruce mumbled with a shrug. “Since when do I ever get what I want.” Bruce sits beside him, knowing the faster he got this over with, the faster he could leave. He shot a quick glance in your direction, almost asking for help to make a quick getaway. 

“That’s right.” Thor patted Bruce on the shoulder. “Now, it all started when I was working at my first station in LA. I was a young greenhorn, learning the ropes many years ago...

“Thor and Sif,” Captain Heimdall spoke into the walkie on their jacket. “There is an EMT emergency at the Los Angeles Zoo. We are the closest unit, and I need you two to head there now. The team and I will finish putting this blaze out.”

Thor and Sif got into the ambulance as instructed, blasting the sirens, and drove to the access point the dispatcher routed them to. A few zookeepers were waiting as they lead them through the zoo, stopping directly in front of the reptile building. Sif ran to the back of the ambulance and threw a paramedic bag at Thor as she grabbed another bag before running into the building behind the other zookeeper.

“Now, at this point, I never had to deal with the whole paramedic, injured people side of things, so it was an intense situation. Luckily, I was able to stay calm and collected through this whole situation, and I had Sif to thank for that. She remained so focused in these emergencies, I always thought she took Xanax, but it was just her personality.” Thor shrugged, taking a sip out of his water bottle in front of him. “Back to the call...

“Did the dispatcher mention what is happening to either of you?” Zookeeper Carina asked while weaving them through the halls of the building. 

“Not much,” Sif answered. “The victim called in mentioning a snake. A few guests must have seen it happen through the viewing windows and called it in, too. I’m hoping you cleared the viewing area for now.”

“Yes, of course, we did,” Carina nodded as they continued down the hall.

“Wait, this involves a snake. I love snakes. My parents got me one when I was younger, thinking it would give me more responsibility, but then my brother let him out of his cage, and he was never found again. I like to think he found a mate, and they are living happily ever after.”

“Great story, Thor, but let’s get to the matters at hand right now,” Sif commanded, earning a serious understanding nod from him. “What’s the current situation?”

“Miek, our 16 foot long 237-pound Burmese python snake from the Asian exhibit, latched onto my fellow zookeeper, Taneleer Tivan, leg, and she started coiling her body around Taneleer’s leg, cutting off his circulation. Taneleer collects snakes, so I don’t know if he read the situation wrong or did something to provoke her.” She shook her head. “It’s protocol to have two zookeepers present during feeding to avoid these types of situations, but his co-worker was running late, so he started the feedings by himself.” 

Carina stopped at a door. “He is behind this door.” She opened it, and they both stepped in to see Taneleer holding a phone to his ear, mumbling and grunting. His eyes and head traveled to the door with a faint smile on his lips before he went unconscious. 

“OH MY GOD, that snake is huge?” Thor shouted in surprise, seeing the snake wrapped around Taneleer’s leg. 

“Taneleer, you still there? Taneleer?” The caller on the speakerphone asked. 

Sif went over to pick up the phone and tossed it to Thor. “I’m Fireman Thor Odinson. Who am I speaking with?” Thor questioned, keeping a watchful eye on Sif. 

She slowly moved into position to check his vitals while keeping an eye on the snake. Her eyes traveled over his body, further assessing the situation. She noticed multiple bite marks across his stomach that were bleeding profusely, and Miek’s jaw was still latched on tight to his stomach. Sif tried her best to put pressure on the wounds, trying not to disturb the snake while Mieks body seemed to coil tighter around Taneleers leg. 

“Dispatcher Bruce Banner here, how is Taneleer doing?”

“He’s unconscious.”

“Okay, how are his vitals?” Bruce asked, but Thor ignored him.

“Carina, do you have any protocol when this happens? Like what is the best way to get the snake off them without harming them?” Sif asked, trying to keep pressure on the wounds.

Her eyes went wide, and she shrugged. “This isn’t usually my area, I fill in where I’m needed, and…and…” her voice drifted off, staring down at Taneleer. 

Sif nodded, looking at Thor. “Thor, can you try uncoiling the snake off of his leg.”

Thor nodded, starting at the tail end, but as much strength Thor had, he couldn’t unwrap the snake. “I think Miek is getting pissed. She is making herself tighter and heavier,” Thor grunted through clenched teeth.

“STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING, THOR?” Bruce shouted from the breast pocket on Thor’s shirt. 

Thor slowly set down the snake’s body and pulled the phone from his pocket. “Then, what do you suggest we do, Banner?“

“Find some alcohol and put it in their mouth, but make sure the head is pointed downward and make sure it goes into his mouth. The alcohol won’t work if you put it on their face or body.” Carina disappeared as if she remembered something and returned with a small bottle of vodka and a syringe. 

“It needs to be the mouth, okay. I got it, but we don’t want to get this snake drunk, Bruce.”

“It will work, trust me. The snake will become disoriented and unlatch herself from Taneleer. Then you will need to slowly unwrap her from his leg. Go slow because you don’t want to make the snake uncomfortable.”

“Got it. You sure she likes vodka,” Thor winked at a blushing Carina, filling the small amount of vodka in the syringe. 

“Thor,” Sif shouted at him. “Focus.”

“If she bites me, this is on you Sif, and this Bruce Banner guy.” Thor pointed his fingers at her and then to the phone.

Thor held the syringe just enough to place a few drops into the python's mouth. In an instant, the snake disengaged its teeth and retracted them away from the bite zone. Sif stepped into action and put pressure on the wound while Thor grabbed a hold of his jaw and head, gaining full control of the snake. With his other hand, he pointed to Carina to start unwrapping the snake slowly at the tail end.  

“And just like that, another person saved.” Thor smacked the table with a big grin on his face. “If I remember right, you Banner had quite the temper in that situation.”

“Well, when a person needs help, you have to think of the best way to help.”

“How did you know the alcohol trick would work?” Steve asked, looking at Bruce.

Bruce opened his mouth when Thor spoke up for him. “This guy, right here--” he grabbed both Bruce's shoulder and shook him “--took some fancy snake class and learned how to disarm them.”

“It wasn’t for that reason per se, but it was a class at the local herpetology society to better understand situations involving reptiles and amphibians.”

“Exactly, fancy snake class,” Thor smirked, patting him on the back while Bruce nodded his head, rubbing his lips together. You couldn’t help but shake your head at them. These two had nothing in common but that one call they experienced together. “I want you to remember, Bruce, you will always be my first.”

“Okay,” Bruce nodded with a fake tight-lipped smile. 

“It was good to see you, Bruce, but I am going to go see if Stan has any more Egg-celsiors left.” He patted him on the shoulder, crawling out of the table and walking back to the truck. 

“Good to see you, too.”

“And here I thought my first time was good.” Steve winked at you, forcing you to roll your eyes.

“I will say one thing,” Bruce mentioned, peeking over you to make sure Thor was out of earshot. “He wasn’t that calm. If you ever want to hear the real version, we have it in the archives, it's in my favorites.”

“And here I thought my brother loved snakes,” you added, making both men chuckle. 

________

Steve went to warm up for his next game while you made your way over to the bleachers to watch the rest of Nat and Clint’s game.

“YN, come sit with us,” a woman with brown hair called, waving at you with a huge grin on her face. A little boy sat next to her, focused on the game in front of him. You recognized her as the woman Nat hugged earlier. “I don’t think we have been properly introduced, but I’m Laura, Clint’s wife, and this is my youngest, Nathaniel. The little lady in the purple shirt by the fence watching the game is Lila, and the young man next to her is my other son, Cooper.”

You nodded as she pointed at them. “I’m YN, but you seem to already know that,” you smiled, shaking her hand. 

“I did, I’ve heard so much about you, and it’s nice to finally put a face to the name. Here join us on the blanket.”

“Thanks.” You plopped down on the blanket, getting comfortable. “Nat’s told me so much about her niece and nephews, too, and they do seem pretty adorable.”

“Do they? Because if I’m being honest, they can be little terrors sometimes, and the sibling rivalry, well don’t get me started,” she huffed, shaking her head. 

“Oh, don’t I know it. I’ve experienced plenty of it growing up with two brothers.”

“I can imagine, but I didn’t know you had another brother.”

“Yeah, Loki. He’s adopted.” You shrugged, watching Nathaniel look through one of the books in front of him.

“Was it like sporting event after sporting event growing up? Because let me tell you something, once you have kids and they want to play sports, then that's all you're going to be focusing on until the season's finished. Bye-bye social life.”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” you let out a soft chuckle, “but for me, it wasn’t like that growing up. Loki and Thor are two very different people. Loki was more into drama theater, but Thor did play a lot of sports. And their personalities, well, they couldn’t be more opposite. Loki is great to talk to when you need someone to tell you how it is or how something is going to be, but Thor always takes your feelings into account by telling you what you want to hear before telling you what you should hear. Each brother has good and bad traits, but I still loved them and would do anything for them.”

“Do you miss Loki?” She reached over and patted your hand. “I’m assuming he doesn’t live around here because Nat mentioned you’re from New York, right?”

“Ahh, yeah. I miss talking to him and seeing him. We were close growing up and up until I moved at the last minute, but it’s just tough, right now.” You shrugged, biting your lip as your eyes drifted to the field. 

You hated not being able to talk to Loki. He helped you through so much, and you hoped he knew that. As dramatic and theatrical as he could be, you missed him. He was often hard to read, but once you cracked his hard shell, he showed a different side of himself, some never get the chance to see. You wished you could tell him what you have been doing lately, but you didn’t want to draw unwanted attention to another cell phone besides your brothers in California, in case Billy was keeping an eye on them.

“I’m sorry--” she gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, and your head snapped to hers “--I didn’t mean to pry or anything. I’m just a stay-at-home mom that hasn’t had any adult communication since last week.”

“No, you’re good, Laura,” you smiled at her. “Don’t you have Clint to talk to?”

“He’s like my fourth child. He is the oldest but acts like the youngest,” she whispered the last part, making you let out a loud laugh. “So, tell me...” She nudged your side, tilting her head at something behind you. You turned to see who she was referring to only to spot Steve. “What’s going on with you and Steve?”

“Depends on what has Nat told you?”

“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be! Wow!” She pushed you, and you laughed, falling onto your side. 

“MOM, Dad's up to bat,” Cooper shouted, sprinting over to inform her before going back to the fence.

“Is he? Oh yes, look at that,” she smirked, seeing Clint square up in the batter’s box with the bases loaded.

With the first pitch, Clint swung the bat, sending the ball flying over the fence on the opposite side of the field. He hit a grand slam, earning cheers from his teammates as he jogged around the bases with a fist up in the air. 

"Showoff," Laura snorted, shaking her head. “I’ll cue you in on a little unknown fact about Clint. He only hits those over the fence because he doesn’t want to run around the bases.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah, he’s the worst, but I love him,” she smiled with a half shrug. 

You may have just met Laura, but you already adored her. She was so easy to get along with, and seemed like the type of friend you could share all your secrets with and she wouldn’t tell a soul.  

"How long have you and Clint been together?"

“It’s been seventeen long years, but he’s been worth it,” Laura smiled, running her hand through Nathaniel’s mop of hair. “How about you and Steve?”

“Okay, back to me, then.” You shake your head, finding it hard not to smile. You glanced over at Steve to see him talking with Sam, flipping his baseball glove around in his hands. “We’ve been hanging out, but I wouldn’t call it serious.” 

“Steve’s a great guy from what I’ve come to understand. I’m pretty perceptive, and let me tell you, not many people can finagle themselves into their little group, but he fit right in. And from what my perceptive powers are telling me, he likes you,” she grinned, tilting her head at him. 

You took a deep breath and looked over your shoulder to catch Steve and Sam staring at you. Steve bit his bottom lip, a smirk forming on his lips. You stuck out your tongue at them, making them both laugh as they leaned down to grab their gear for the next game. Steve headed towards the dugout, but you didn’t miss the ever so subtle double-take Steve shot your way. You shot him a cheesy grin, and you could’ve sworn his ears couldn’t get any redder. You chuckled, your eyes drifting back to the game in front of you. 

“And that Nathaniel, my little man, is called the double-take. It means Steve is into YN.”

You scoffed. “May I ask what you’re teaching him?” You bit your lip, looking at the smiling boy. 

“My perceptive powers, of course,” she said, reaching over and tickling him. 

“No, mommy,” he screeched in a burst of high-pitched laughter. 

“He’s got the trait. Cooper and Lila are screwed.” She confessed, and you mouthed ‘wow’ with a half-smile on your lips. “Regardless, you two are cute together.” 

“Thanks,” you mumbled under your breath, feeling a rush of heat to your cheeks. 

_________

The West LA Police Department took the win and were moving onto the final four. Nat and Clint were walking over together, and Lila took off running towards them. Clint leaned down with open arms, but she ran right to Nat and wrapped her arms around her waist. You didn’t miss Clint let out a sigh of defeat as he stood back up and smirked at them.

“Did you watch us kick the other teams butt?” Nat asked, smiling down at her, patting her back. 

“Yeah, you were so awesome, Nat. I want to grow up and be just like you,” Lila grinned, looking up at her.

Clint shook his head at them, giving Lila a knowing look. “Yeah, no, that’s not gonna happen. You wanna give your old man a heart attack or something because I’m not ready for that," Clint sighed, walking over and laying down next to Nathaniel and Laura. He rested his head on his wife’s thigh with a huff. “I’m getting too old for this sh...stuff,” he groaned, closing his eyes and was out like a light. 

“Man, I wish I could fall asleep that fast,” Nat admitted, staring down at sleeping Clint.

“Don’t we all,” Laura chuckled. “At least I know where Nathaniel gets it.”

“How’s your team doing?” Nat asked, standing with her hands on her hips. 

“I haven’t checked up on them. Been too busy talking with Laura.”

“Happens to most of us. She’s so easy to talk to.”

“She is,” you nodded at Laura, and she shot you a soft smile. 

Station 107 won their game, moving them onto the final four, which started after lunch. To your surprise, Happy’s Hydrant was catering the event, and all the food looked delicious. All you had to do was pay for the plate, and all the money collected would be donated to the winning team's charity.  Everyone from the team agreed, this last game wasn’t important and that it was time to finally start partying.

_________

It was the bottom of the 7th inning of their final four game with Station 107 down by one point with one out. Val was up to bat, and the current count was one strike and two balls. She stepped back, taking a few quick practice swings before returning to the plate. The pitcher threw the ball straight across the plate, and Val swung with a miss. She stepped back out, shaking her head as her teammates cheered her on from the dugout. 

Steve gulped, seeing her set herself back up in the batter's box, doing one more quick practice swing. Steve never really had a one on one conversation with her, but he had a ton of respect for her. He was always impressed with how determined and focused she could be in a high-pressure situation. Those calls were a walk in the park for her, and he knew with the current situation at hand, she would knock that ball out of the park.

The pitcher tossed the ball, and in an instant, it landed in the catcher's glove slightly out of the strike zone. 

“Strike 3, you’re out,” the umpire called, making a fist with his hand. Val stood there with a questioning glare at the ump before she turned around and walked away. 

“What the fuck?” Steve commented under his breath, pushing his way out of the dugout and passed Val. “What kind of fucking call was that, ump?” 

“If you don’t like the call, you can get out of here.” The ump stood tall in front of him, but it didn’t do much since he was shorter than Steve. 

“The ball was nowhere near the damn strike zone, and she didn’t even swing at it. She’s not out.” 

The umpire tore off his mask. “Listen here, buddy, I’m in charge here--” He stepped closer to Steve and poked him on the chest with his mask “--from my view, she swung the bat but didn’t commit to it. Get over it or get out.”

“You know what I think…” Steve started, but Bucky showed up, forcing himself between them. Sam stepped in and grabbed a hold of Steve’s arm, pulling him back to the dugout.

“All good, Rumlow, all good. It’s just a friendly annual charity grill-out game. Can’t we all just get along,” Bucky added with a slight smirk, walking backwards to the dugout.

“Keep your new recruit under control, and we won’t have a problem.” Rumlow shook his head and pulled his mask back on with Thor up to bat next.  

“Who is that guy?” Steve asked Sam, taking a seat on the bench in the dugout.

“Brock Rumlow. You kind of took his job.”

“What do you mean, I took his job?”

“We were going to hire him, but then, Bucky told you to apply, and you got it.” Sam patted his back. “He is not very fond of our station anymore, but you were the more qualified candidate.” Sam squirted his water bottle into his mouth. “It’s probably why Val didn’t say anything to him about the call because she saw who it was and knew it wasn’t worth the fight.”

“I see,” Steve nodded, taking a drink from his water bottle. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing you watching him. Nat was saying something to you, but your attention was on him. He held up his hand with a slight smirk to show you he was fine, and you nodded at him.

“Why am I always cleaning up your messes,” Bucky inquired, plopping down in the seat next to him.

“Bad timing,” Steve smiled, forcing Sam and Bucky to shake their heads. 

You and Nat stepped down from the bleachers when the game ended, with Station 107 losing by 2 points. Nat nodded at you, leaving to prepare for the championship game. Once you realized the umpire was Rumlow, you and Nat knew it was inevitable that they were going to lose. Rumlow knew how to hold a grudge, and he was still holding onto it. You shot Steve a side smirk as he walked over to you. 

“And here, I thought you guys didn’t care about the game, and who knew you were so competitive?”

“What can I say, I got into it a little bit. We all did.” He shrugged with a tight smile.

“You did,” you chuckled, patting him on the bicep. “The ump was making some terrible calls anyways, and it doesn’t help he’s an asshole.”  

________

You sat down in the same spot at the picnic table from earlier, and Bucky and Steve joined you, still talking about their loss. 

Bucky took a bite of his BBQ ribs and grabbed his napkin, wiping the sauce from his lips. “It’s a good thing you’re not in charge of the grill, Steve? You remember what happened that one time.”

“What are you talking about? I’m great on the grill.”

“Yeah, but there was that one time, Peggy threw you that Fourth of July Birthday bash at your new house. You were on the grill and had the gas turned on too high and when you lit the match, a fire blaze shot up in the air. Hell, I thought you were going to lose your eyebrows, but Peggy was more worried about the house,” he chuckled with a crinkled-eyed smile, shaking his head.  

“In my defense, it was a new grill,” Steve snickered. “I didn’t know what it was capable of yet.”

“Who’s Peggy?” You asked, glancing between Steve and Bucky, who seemed to be in their own little world. They fell silent as Steve bit his lip, shooting Bucky a hard glare. Bucky looked away from him, shoving more mashed potatoes in his mouth. 

“Story for another time.” Steve peeked over at you, letting out a breath. He moved his potatoes around on his plate as a few different expressions crossed his face. 

“I understand,” you nodded, taking a sip of your drink. 

You knew better than anyone that there was a time and place for certain things to be shared, and this was not one of those times; it was too public. You took a bite of your sandwich, trying to remember if Steve mentioned Peggy before, but you don’t think he ever did. You peeked up at him across the table to see him laughing with Bucky, but it seemed forced. It wasn’t the hand clutching to the chest kind of laugh or the adorable chuckle that made the butterflies erupt in your stomach. It was almost like it didn’t have a sound, but the emotion hiding behind it was there, like a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He was physically here, but his mind was somewhere else. Whoever this Peggy was, she was special to him. 

“Clint and Nat’s team is fucking dominating; 12 to 2 in the bottom of the 4th. They should just call it at this point. It’s tough to watch,” Sam stated, sitting down next to you.

Everyone’s head at the table nodded in agreement. Your eyes started to wander around the park, noticing the whole Barton clan invested in this game. The line to Happy’s Hydrant was still long but moving swiftly. Thor, Val, and Carol were talking with a group of people by the beer wagon, paying no attention to the game. Your focus returned to the table, hearing Bucky comment on Nat’s uniform, forcing Sam to roll his eyes and bring his sandwich to his mouth.

“I’m gonna head back for seconds; do you want anything else? I can grab it for you,” Steve asked, catching your wandering eyes. 

“I’m fine, thanks, though.” You smiled up at him, and he nodded, stepping out of the picnic table.  

Steve stood back in Happy’s line, which was much longer than it was the first time he went through. Drunk munchies, he assumed. He glanced over at you and couldn’t help but smile. Sam must have made a comment about you and him because you smacked Sam on the arm as your gaze landed on his. You waved at him with a playful smile while giving Sam a stern look. 

He couldn’t help but smirk at your interactions with the guys. They were a rowdy bunch, but you could always hold your own against them and put them in their place, even him. Every joke you made, every laugh that escaped you, and every smile you shot his way made his heart leap in his chest. It was a feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time, a feeling he hasn’t felt since Peggy. 

"Is this the line for Happy's?" A guy behind him asked, interrupting his daydream.

“It is, yes,” he nodded, turning around to look at the guy, wearing a Northeast LA police department t-shirt and cap.

“Was your department playing today?” Steve questioned, pointing at his shirt.

“Oh no,” the bearded man chuckled. “We prefer being spectators and drinking.” He pointed behind him to a group sitting by the game with lawn chairs and coolers.

“Nothing wrong with that,” Steve smirked, shaking his head.

“What’s it like being a firefighter at the 107th?” He gestured to Steve’s shirt. “Doesn’t Thor work at that station, too?”

“Yeah, he does. Good guy.” The brunet nodded in agreement. “I like it. It’s both a physically and mentally demanding job, but I enjoy it.” Steve shrugged, grabbing a few extra napkins from the table.

“Same with me, but we aren’t fighting fires or rescuing kittens from trees.”

“If only it was that easy,” Steve nodded, narrowing his brows. “How do you know, Thor?”

“He helped me with a call a few months ago….it was a jumper,” he gulped, putting some vegetables on his plate as they made their way down the line. “I was the first officer on the scene. I was working on talking him down, and then this big intimidating guy from the 107th showed up, had a heart to heart with the guy, and he got down off the ledge. It was amazing to watch.”

“Did Thor tell the guy his wife left him and that he found himself in a similar situation?”

“Yeah.” 

“Thor made that up on the spot.” The guy furrowed his brows at him, not really understanding. “You see, sometimes to calm people down in these stressful situations, we try to find some common ground. In this case, Thor made up the story about his wife leaving him, and it ended up saving the guy’s life.”

“Wait, so Thor was never married.”

“Nope,” Steve smirked, taking a couple more BBQ ribs for his plate. “We do what we have to do to save lives, even if it means making up an emotional story for the victim to know they are not alone, and people still care.”

You glanced over at the food buffet to see Steve talking to someone in a dark blue cap that you didn’t recognize. Steve always seemed to be able to start up a conversation with anyone, even though he seemed like a quiet guy. Bucky snapped his fingers in front of your face, pulling you away from them. 

“Eyes on me, darling, eyes on me.” He pointed his middle and forefinger at his eyes than to yours.  “Stop giving Steve all the attention. He’s the real troublemaker.” Bucky shook his head. “Has he told you about all the stupid things he did when he was younger and how I had to rescue his ass?”

“A little,” you snickered, pinching your thumb and forefinger together.  “And here, I always thought you were the troublemaker.”

“Nope, all Steve. You’d be surprised how often I got into trouble for shit he did. He’s such a punk.”  You couldn’t help but grin at Steve’s back, shuffling down the buffet line. 

Steve hesitated before scooping one more serving of potatoes on his plate. He deserved a few more carbs after playing softball all day and consuming copious amounts of water. “Sorry, I don’t think I caught your name?”

“Oh, my friends call me Jig.”

“Jig?” Steve mumbled, cocking his head to the side. “I bet there is a story behind that one, but I’m Steve.”He held out his hand, and Jig shook it. “I better get back to my squad, but it was nice talking to you.”

“You too. I’ll see you around, Steve.” 

________

“Do you think Cosmo is staring at the door waiting for you to come home? I miss that pretty boy,” You suggested, standing next to Steve watching the final game between West LA Police Department and Fire Station 113. 

“Maybe,” he smirked. “I know he misses you. Won’t stop talking about it.” He shook his head, making you bite back a smile. “He wanted me to ask if you wanted to come over after this?” He shrugged, acting all innocent.  “I told him I would ask, but I wasn’t promising him anything.”

“What...like a play date?”

He chuckled under his breath, eyeing you with his blue orbs. “I guess you could say that.”

You turned your head to the ground, biting your lip. “Yeah, I'd love to, but only if it's okay with his Dad. I know he has a strict bedtime.”

“I think he will let this one slide this time,” Steve murmured next to your ear, wrapping his arm around your back and putting his hand on your hip. You leaned closer to him and wrapped your hand across his waist, pulling him closer to you.

“Where is Cosmo anyway?”

“My neighbor is watching him, and let me tell you, he is not a fan of her. I think if he sees you, he will be much happier, and then he’ll forgive me for leaving him with her.  

“I’m sure he will. If not, I’ll talk to him and put in a good word for you.” You squeezed his side and shot him a promising smile, forcing him to shake his head at you. 

“Thank you.”

To no surprise, the West LA Police Department won with the scoreboard shining 18 to 7. They decided to forfeit after the 6th inning, knowing they weren’t going to be able to catch them. It was a boring game to watch, but you were in good company. 

________

The car ride to Steve’s house sent a chill up your spine and a warm rush to your face. It was a sensation you couldn’t explain. The butterflies in your stomach erupted, and every nerve in your body made your skin tingle with anticipation. You hung out at his apartment a few times before, but tonight something felt different. You sighed, leaning back in the passenger seat, staring out the windows and watching the sky change colors. It was a beautiful sight. You glanced over at Steve, watching him bob his head along to Marvin Gaye. He tapped his hand on the steering wheel as his gaze caught yours and cracked a coy smile, causing your heart to race.

You walked up the steps behind Steve to his apartment on the second floor. He opened the door to let you in, so he could retrieve Cosmo from his neighbor. You stood next to the island by the front door with your hands on the counter, listening to the quick chit-chat Steve was having with his neighbor. You heard paws charging down the hallway followed by footsteps not much later. Under the door, you could see the shadows dancing and hear Steve giving Cosmo a little pep talk. 

“Okay, Cosmo. Someone decided to come visit you, but you have to promise me you won’t embarrass me.” Cosmo whined, and you couldn’t help but think how cute it was. “You’re gonna embarrass me, aren’t you?” Cosmo barked in response, and Steve let out a loud sigh. 

The front door creaked open, and Cosmo charged in, his head looking around the room until his eyes landed on you. He ran over to you with his front paws landing on you.

“Hello to you too, Cosmo,” you grinned, scratching the top of his head. “I heard you missed me.” His tail continued to wag, and it hit the kitchen cabinet, but he didn’t seem to have a care in the world. 

“See, I wasn’t kidding when I told you he missed you.”

“I see that now. Did you miss me, Cosmo?” You crouched down, rubbing his ears, and he licked your face. “Yuck, Cosmo, no kissing.” You shake your head and wipe the drool off your face.

“Did you want anything to drink?” Steve offered, opening a cabinet with glasses. “I was thinking about opening a bottle of wine?”

“Yeah, I’ll have a glass.” You nodded, standing up straight at the end of the bar with Cosmo sitting right beside you, waiting for another scratch. 

Steve grabbed two glasses, setting them on the counter. “See, all he wants is your attention; he could care less that I am here.” 

“I’m sure he still loves his Dad.”

“He kind of has to; I feed him,” he breathed a small smirk, shrugging his shoulder. He grabbed a wine bottle at random from the small rack on the counter. He opened the bottle, pouring it into the glasses, and handed you one. “What’s the movie going to be tonight?”

“Have to check the list.”

You turned to follow Steve to the living room when you tripped over Cosmo, and the wine glass fell from your grasp. It crashed on the hardwood floor, shattering into tiny little pieces. Your hand covered your mouth, feeling a chill run up your spine. As you stared down at the floor, your heart sped up, causing tears to peek at the corner of your eyes. A lump formed in your throat, making it harder to breathe, and your hands started to tremble. You felt him reach out and touch your shoulder, forcing you to jump back and stare at him with wide eyes. In a glimpse, you saw Billy standing where Steve used to be. A sob escaped your mouth as you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head. When you opened your eyes, Steve was holding his hands up, his mouth was moving, but his words weren’t reaching your ears.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you whimpered, backing away from him.

“It’s okay, YN, we’ll clean it up. It was an accident. These things happen.”

“No, no, I should go. I forgot I had...um...I’m sorry. I should go.” You grabbed your jacket and took off out the door with tears streaming down your face. 

The door closed with a loud bang, causing Cosmo to whine at the door. Steve let out a deep sigh, looking at the door and then at his dog. “What am I going to do, Cosmo?” He ran a hand down his face, walking over to grab his broom.

______

AN: Thanks for reading Part 12! Soooo much happened in this part, so where do I start. I originally thought about breaking this part into two, but got lazy, and was like nahhh! Haha! But what a way to end it, am I right?! Everything was going so well until it wasn't. 😬 What is Steve gonna do now? Do you think Cosmo feels bad about it? Poor pup! Did you like the Stan Lee cameo? Whenever I write a story, I try to add him in since he is the one who started it all! And what did you think about the story of Thor losing his dispatcher cherry? I don’t know anything about snakes, I just googled and this is what came up, so it could be inaccurate, but regardless, I hope you at least got a little laugh out of it! Anyways, thanks for reading, comments are always welcome!

[inabadancedcrazy]

SMT IV, SMT II, and Disco Elysium

Alright! This one will take a while, but I have many opinions for each of these. I hope nobody minds me doing repeats of certain characters though. My feelings on Daleth are vast abd complex:

SMT IV:

My Dearest Blorbo: Issachar. He toes the line between Blorbo and Glup, but I think his prominence in the prologue of IV secures him a spot as my favorite character from the game. I would kill to get a short prologue type deal where you get to play as him when he's training with Flynn or cavorting with demons.

My Most Gentlest Scrunkly: Has to be Alice. She was with me the entire rest of the gane from when I had her in IV and I wish her all the best. She doesn't have Scrunkly energy of her own, per se, but she is my Scrunkly as per the criteria of the ask.

Scrimblo Bimblo: Probably Issachar again. He doesn't get nearly as much spotlight as I, personally, feel he deserves.

The Glup Shitto I have chosen: Commander Hope. Like I said with Issachar, this can really be interchanged between the two. However, what makes Hope more obscure than Issachar is that you never get a boss fight against him, and thus never get to see his samurai skills in action... Unless you buy the DLC for Apocalypse where they make him green.

The Poorest of Little Meow Meows: How many times can I put Navarre here without it becoming annoying? I love him, he's like another of my meow meows but even more pathetic and unlikeable, I love him. I actually like him even more alive than as a ghost, so yay for base game Navarre! Earning the award for most useless holy knight.

Horse Plinko: Also Navarre.

Eeby Deeby: Abbot Hugo, absolutely, for sure.

SMT II:

Blorbo: Daleth, from my shows. I wish I could play as him.

Scrunkly: Beth. She's the most Scrunkly character in the game, I'm pretty sure. She's just shaped that way.

Scimblo Bimblo: Maybe Madame would fit here? If she's too popular, then I'll throw Daleth out here again.

Glup Shitto: I don't think I have a Glup Shitto for SMT II... Maybe Anoon. I love her, even if she has questionable taste in men. Yes I love Daleth too, but this isn't about me in this one case.

Poor Little Meow Meow: ... Daleth again? I'm sorry everything on this list has been Daleth or Daleth related so far, but I just fucking love that green bastard.

Horse Plinko: Still Daleth. My feelings on this idiot bastard are plentiful.

Eeby Deeby: Puck. Goddamn fairy and his status ailment giving, run around the dungeon, time wasting, no good lousy self. Ten superhells.

Disco Elysium:

Blorbo: This is the toughest question on the list so far. It's either Harry or Kim, but can I rightfully put one above the other? Kim gets it, but only because Harry is just so pathetic that I can't help but think of him as poor, and little, and perhaps a meow meow.

Scrunkly: A certain stick insect. :)

Scrimblo Bimblo: La Revacholiere. I am enraptured every time she speaks, through whispers on the wind and chills up my spine.

Glup Shitto: That one Moralist guy you meet in the young man's room. He's hilarious and tone deaf and I hate him so much but I want to put him on the spot to defend his bs centrism so bad. I wish you could see him more than just the once. Some Sunday Friend.

Poor Little Meow Meow: Here he is!!! Right where he and his skills need to be, one Harry duBois. What a fuckin guy. This old man *is* my poor little meow meow. I will not have his status disputed.

Horse Plinko: Cuno, but only because he would actively fight back. You can't force the Cuno into a Plinko he did not already fully intend to enter. Cuno is in the Plinko of his own design. The Cuno *is* the plinko, pigs all fucking up on the bars, devoured by the flames shit. Real fucking inferno style shit.

Eeby Deeby: Is it wrong to put a dead man here? Lely, with your beautiful eyes and horrible everything else... You get to go here post mortem.

And that's all of it! Thank you for asking!!

[raeynbowboi]

Incubi Headcanons part 2

Ace is Verosika’s second-in-command, and her lieutenant who keeps her crew in line when she’s not around. He settles the group disputes that he doesn’t feel that Verosika needs to be bothered with, and usually, his word is law, unless Verosika overrides him.

Ace likes that Josh is so stupid and reckless, as it gives Ace an excuse to take care of him. His love language includes acts of service, and he likes that he feels so needed and appreciated by Josh.

Ace craves more than anything the intimacy of a relationship. He’s given his heart away too carelessly in the past, and it has always blown up in his face. As a result, he promised himself he’d never date another incubus again. But then his one night stand with Josh happened and whoops, feelings were caught.

Ace is usually pretty chill, but if he was ever angry enough to bring out his full demon form, only Vortex is strong enough to restrain him.

Ace met Verosika when he was hired as a back-up dancer for one of her music videos. He was great at helping the other dancers with their timing and keeping them in line. Verosika was impressed and she hired him onto her official squad of back-up dancers, and made him her choreographer. When Verosika’s boyfriend dumped her right before an upcoming award show, she asked Ace to be her plus one, and from then on, he was her right hand, and the first official member of her entourage. Kiki is one of her other old back-up dancers who managed to stick around, who Ace recruited for her.

Ace met Josh through an ex-boyfriend who was friends with Josh. Initially brushing Josh off as an annoying immature brat, he found Josh later that night overdosing in the bathroom and took him to the hospital. Since then, Ace felt he needed to watch out for Josh and keep him from hurting himself like that again.

Ace follows Verosika because at least under her, he’s somebody. People get out of his way. The paparazzi snap pictures of him. Bouncers let him into VIP sections. So even if he’s not a huge fan of Verosika barking orders at him, he’d rather have a mean boss with amazing perks than be his own boss working some street corner, or pole dancing in some club. While she can be a difficult boss, Ace does admire her freedom and her dedication to her own happiness, something he often neglects out of self-restraint. He rarely has the nerve to do things he wants to do, and spending time with Verosika and her crew has helped Ace become more daring and bold.

Josh has a whole one (1) braincell, and sometimes he just straight up loses it.

Josh can handle the most lewd inuendos and double entendres immaginable without even batting an eye. But one genuine compliment about his smile, or the sound of his laughter, or how pretty his eyes are and Josh gets incredibly flustered, and doesn’t know how to respond. It’s one of the few things that can disarm his usual cocky persona.

Outside of Ace, Milky and Kat are Josh’s closest friends in the crew. Kat likewise has but a single braincell, and he’s a bit of a prankster and a memelord, so it’s never a good idea to leave them alone together. Milky encourages Josh’s stupid antics, as she finds them amusing.

Josh is obsessed with his phone and social media. He posts about everything going on and shares things he probably shouldn’t. Verosika actually had to make a rule that the entire crew can’t post about her without her approval first, and this involves her taking Josh’s phone from him a lot to make sure he doesn’t leak information to her fanbase again. He tweeted one time about going to a tanning salon with Verosika, and by the time they came out, the entire building was swamped with fans asking her for autographs and photo ops. Luckily Vortex was able to escort them to safety, but Josh did not get out of that blunder unscathed.

Josh straight up cannot take care of himself. If left unattended, Josh would probably end up killing himself in his own stupidity and ineptitude. He can’t cook for himself, do his own laundry, handle his own bills, or be left alone with drugs. He needs Ace to keep him in line  and make sure he eats more than junk food and alcohol to survive. Josh actually doesn’t mind this, as having Ace looking out for him makes Josh feel safe and protected, rather than smothered.

Before Josh joined Verosika’s entourage, he had accrued a massive debt to loan sharks due to his inability to budget or handle his money. He managed to crash at Ace’s place, and during this time, he met Verosika through Ace. Ace convinced Verosika that Josh would be a good addition to her crew, and she agreed to give Josh a chance as a favor to Ace. Luckily, things worked out, and Josh made enough money being part of Verosika’s crew to pay off his debts. But even once he paid off his debts, Josh continued to live with Ace right up until the one night stand that took them from roommates to a couple living together.

[anon-e-miss]

Oh god, poor Prowl. He’s gonna need a lotta therapy and help realizing he’s got Stockholm syndrome

"Is it just me, or is Prowl startin' to look like slag?" Jazz asked when he dropped in on Ratchet.

"He is," Ratchet replied. "I've got him on every supplement I can think of but I don't know how much he's fuelling."

"I know he ain't goin' to the commissary much," Jazz said. "Considerin' how they're actin', I can't blame him."

"How much longer is Trailbreaker going to be in the brig?" Ratchet asked.

"End o' the quartex," Jazz replied. "Longer if he don't shut up 'bout droppin' Chromedome again."

"Chromedome deserved it," Ratchet said. "And I told him as much when he limped into my medbay."

"I don't suppose he's been talkin' to Rung?" Jazz asked.

"I know they have appointments," Ratchet replied. "I doubt that he's talking."

"He's messed up," Jazz sighed. "How can he not be? Mech raped 'm 'n made 'm like it, made 'm "consent" by threatenin'm wit Vortex 'n put a bitty in 'm."

"The most important thing a mechanism in Prowl's position needs is support," Ratchet said. "He's getting the opposite here. If Tarantulas turned up, I bet Prowl would go with him willingly."

"Think ya can give me a list o' what he needs to be fuellin' on?" Jazz asked. "Maybe I can get'm his fuel, sit wit'm 'n see to it that he gets his fill."

"He could use a friend," Ratchet said. "I'll get you that list."

Jazz stocked up on enriched midgrade, rust stick, energon goodies and the press blend Prowl liked. He knew Prowl had his own press, knew it had been in one of the crates brought to his new hab, Jazz had boxed up Prowl's old hab himself, a stellar-cycle after he had disappeared when they had all largely given up the idea that he would be found alive. He had made a mistake and as Spec Ops commander, Jazz would carry the guilt forever. When he had searched for Prowl, he had focused on the Decepticon strongholds, he had never imagined one psychopath would have taken him to be his personal berthwarmer.

"Hey Prowl," Jazz pressed Prowl's buzzer. Graffiti covered the door. Decepticon Cumdump. Fantastic. Had Prowl seen it yet? As he waited for Prowl to answer, Jazz commed Hound to come take care of it. Hound would get the graffiti cleaned up before he tracked down who had painted it.

"What do you need, Jazz?" Prowl asked.

"I got ya some things, fuel from Ratch, open the door," Jazz replied.

For a moment, Jazz worried Prowl would not open the door but the door slid open and Jazz stepped inside. He front when he got a look at Prowl's hab. All the crates he had packed up a vorn ago were stacked in the middle of the room, not even one had been unpacked. Alright, not good... was Prowl just waiting for Tarantulas to reappear? Maybe, Pit, it was even likely.

"Do ya need help gettin' settled in?" Jazz asked. "I know ya shouldn't be liftin' any o' that heavy slag, I can be y're grunt."

"None of it matters," Prowl said. Jazz looked at him, feeling so sad for the mech he had served with for vorns.

"Sure it do," he said. "I swear I didn't snoop when I packed it up. Just put it away, nice and careful. Figured I'd make it easy for ya to unpack when ya finally came home."

"You packed my habsuite?" Prowl asked, his optics were searching Jazz's face.

"I didn't trust anyone else to do it," Jazz said. "I didn't want anyone snoopin', or stealin'."

"Thank you," Prowl said, he looked over the crates and his expression became pinched. "I have not appreciated your hard work on my behalf."

"Nah, nah, ya don't gotta," Jazz said. "Take a load off Prowl. I'll find yer press 'n make ya a cube 'n then ya can tell me where ya want everythin' to go."

"I should not have it," Prowl said.

"Ya always feel better after yer rocket fuel," Jazz said. "Ya look like ya got a helmache."

"Oh. Maybe."

"There ya go."

Prowl sat quietly on the couch as Jazz found the crate he remembered packing the press in and dug it out. He carried the press, a state of the art model Wheeljack had customized and set it up in the small kitchen. While Prowl's particular brew slowly dribbled into a cube Jazz remembered buying Prowl as a joke, he put away the fuel he had brought over and made Prowl a plate of goodies. He returned to the living room and found Prowl looking through one of the crates as he cupped his forge. Jazz knew how horribly wrong it all was, but Prowl made for a lovely ori-to-be.

"Hound's got yer crystals," Jazz said, holding the plate and "#1 Boss" cube. "I'll get'm to bring 'em by later."

"You kept them."

"Ya said they were yer memories o' Praxus," Jazz replied. "O' course I kept 'em. Figured Hound was the best bet for keepin' 'em alive for ya."

"Thank you, Jazz."

"Ain't no thang," Jazz replied. "Why don't ya kept comfortable? 'M here to be yer servos."

Within two joors Prowl had drunk the cube and eaten the treats as he sat with his peds up, covered in a blanket and supported by pillows. Jazz was responsible for the blanket and the pillows. Prowl had complained, offhandedly, of a chill and Jazz had not been inclined to let it stand. He thought Prowl looked better, let worn. It would not last but Jazz thought maybe it was a start. The awards Prowl had one, the few pieces of forever glass he had kept in his old hab were now set amongst the datapads, collections of poetry, historical tomes and dramas. It still needed to be homey. There was a knock at the door and Jazz knew it was Hound.

"That'll be Hound with yer crystals," Jazz said.

"Oh..." Prowl started to stand.

"Nah, nah, nah," Jazz said. "Ya just relax, I'll let'm in."

"Oh..." Prowl sounded anxious and he probably was but Jazz wanted him to know he had friends amongst the Autobots.

"Thanks, Hound," Jazz said as he stepped aside for Hound to come in. "They look great!"

"They aren't hard to tend for," Hound replied. "Good-cycle, Prowl. I'm sorry for not returning these to you sooner. I didn't want to burden you with carrying for them until you were ready."

"Thank you," Prowl said. "Thank you for keeping them alive."

"My pleasure," Hound said. He carried the crystals to Prowl so he could look over his "plant bitties".

"They've done better in your care than mine," Prowl said. "Maybe you should keep them."

"No way, Prowl," Hound replied. "I remember what they looked like when you brought them back from Praxus. You're the reason they're alive, like most of us here."

[adamrevi3ws]

West Side Story

Steven Spielberg’s West Side Story is the second time in a row I’ve went to see something infinitely praised by Film Twitter and have been blown away as a result. This is Spielberg’s Return of the King or “who’s your daddy?” moment, directing one of his best films in ages to remind us who’s boss. I’m not really one for musicals – I burnt out of my high school theater kid phase a while back – but I’ll be damned if every second there wasn’t a music number I was internally begging for another one to come up as soon as possible. The movie is so visually striking, dynamic, and gorgeous. The choreography and staging look like they should be taught in school, and Spielberg’s camera zooms around in the cleverest ways, embodying the “every frame a painting” ethos. Many of the musical numbers are so animated and intensely full of life that it almost gives you chills. For me, the clear highlights were America, Cool, and Gee, Officer Krupke. Finally, from the second the film starts, Spielberg adds in a new level of political awareness to the text acknowledging that the West Side is fundamentally threatened by demolition and gentrification to make way for the elitist neighborhood it’d soon become. Throughout the film the West Side doesn’t only look poor, it actually looks post-apocalyptic with the constant ruin and demolition in the backdrop of every outdoor scene. If anything, the tragedy of this take of West Side Story isn’t just the violence of a gang war triumphing over love – it’s also the fact that the Jets can’t overcome their racism to unite with the Sharks against their true enemy: Robert Moses. While it unfortunately slows down in terms of musical numbers and visuals near the end, West Side Story is still a massive flex and tour de force from Spielberg.

As many already know, one of the biggest points of contention for this adaptation was that Ansel Elgort, playing the main role of Tony, got outed as a sexual predator shortly after it finished shooting. Does that make this otherwise amazing film much harder to watch? Definitely. That being said, even without the sexual assault allegations Elgort is clearly one of the weakest links of the cast. He can barely sing, and his acting only goes as far as being able to do a pretty solid New York accent. Elgort (and to a lesser extent his costar Rachel Zegler) are often overshadowed by their supporting cast, more specifically Mike Faist as Riff and Ariana DeBose as Anita. These two absolutely steal the scene and step on necks every time the camera is on them. I can’t say I’m too surprised since they’re both Broadway regulars, but damn, the sheer charisma their roles really get me every time. Faist is considered to be one of the biggest snubs for this year’s Best Supporting Actor Oscar nominees, and I look forward to see how DeBose fares this Sunday (although I also wouldn’t be mad if Kirsten Dunst got the same award). It’s very clear that Spielberg places a lot of trust on the abilities of his cast. This especially rings true for the Hispanic cast, where much of their scenes are spoken in Spanish with no subtitles, expecting non Spanish speakers to just kind of get the emotional resonance behind their words. And you know what, like so many other things in this film, it just kinda works!

I’ll say it – West Side Story is probably one of the best movie musicals I’ve seen. Spielberg takes a lot of the energy and excitement we feel when watching stage musicals and brings it to another level onscreen. Even when they’re not the most consistent, at its highs, West Side Story is a testament to how an overwhelming amount of love behind the camera can really show in the final product and the power of a great cast can help bring that love to live. Watch it in theaters while you still can. 8.1 stars out of 10.

[aceofspadegrass]

Third Times The Charm~

Characters: Hatter, Niragi Suguru, Chishiya Shuntaro, Last Boss, @a-simp-20 , @niragis-right-hand-rabbit, and Me

Genre: Dunno, but Hatter's out for blood. ♥️ Hey, at least there's some fluff at the end!

1.3k words

We're back at it again, except this is more aftermath than actual heisting. Time goes by and this rendition of Hatter is gonna murder us one of these days.

Hatter thought it was the end of it all, he really did. The three that kept managing to slip underneath his nose, past the militants, would stop after a few times. No use in challenging fate too many times, there was always bound to be a slip-up somewhere.

Yet it happened again, and this time it was getting far too out of hand. He had just come back from a game, just as many of his loyal and dedicated people were doing at the same timeframe. Sweaty and exhausted from the Spades game he just had to push through — with an overwhelming success, he should add — he wanted nothing more than to sit back, relax, maybe have a nice bottle of that black cherry vodka he managed to win last week. What better way to relax?

Well, he wasn’t getting that privilege, as he steps into his room only to find something amiss.

“ Where. Is. My couch.” Hatter says to an invisible audience, eyes staring at the spots where his couches were. The funny part was, through the slow realization of the scene in front of him, was nothing else looked remotely out of place. Every little thing that he remembered leaving on the floor was still there, and nothing looked to be moved. The only evidence that anything was missing was the blank spaces, perfectly aligned in the sad shadow of his purloined couches.

Hatter slowly takes a slow, deep breath, eyes fixated on the spot — and perhaps a little bit of bloodlust was forming in his body, perhaps even more — and he lets it out, a smile of doom forming upon his lips. Oh, those three were definitely on his Super Duper Traitors list. Nobody was gonna steal his couches. Especially a second time.

Hatter strides away to his bathroom to wash up a little, finding zero reasons to not look good before he sends a search party for these three so he can finally get his hands on them. He splashes cool water on his face, washing away every bit of grime and sweat that remained on his face, sighing in relief as the water cooled him just a bit.

Not cool enough to dissipate the fire in his system, of course, but it was a good attempt on the water’s part. He straightens up, staring at himself in the mirror, smile curled on his lips as he nods to himself. “ Oh, this’ll be the day you’ll regret betraying me. I’m going to make sure traitors pay.”

Hatter turns around, his kimono swaying rather spectacularly as he begins his walk down to call a surprise manhunt. Sure, he felt a bit bad that he was sending out people just after finishing harrowing games for their lives, but it was for the greater good of him! After all, he knew what was best for everyone to get out eventually, and they all listened to him. He loved these people, how they willingly fought for the greater cause in support of him and the safe haven he created for all of them.

That support he got was going to a great cause, and that included finding the traitors. He passes by a few people, smiling as he relays the call to them, to spread the word to come back to the lobby so he could tell them all the important news. He doesn’t bother to check if they do as he asked, knowing full well that they’d do anything to help like the good people they were, making his way up to the floor where he usually spoke to the members of his beloved utopia.

Within minutes, the crowd filter left and right to hear what Hatter had to say next, Hatter smiling down at them as they all waited patiently for his news, a few chattering amongst themselves. Hatter raises his arms, a wide smile on his face.

“ Greetings everyone! I do sincerely apologize for calling you all here once more when you all deserve time to relax! Trust me, so do I, but this is quite important for you all to hear!” Hatter starts, voice clear and concise to attract even the most distracted of people. Eyes look up at him from below, Hatter raising his arms and clenching one into a fist. “ As you all know, there are three rules to this Beach!” One hand holds up three fingers, each one going down as he repeats them. “ One! You must always wear a swimsuit! Two! You can do whatever you want here! And three! Traitors will be killed.” Hatter lowers his arms to rest on the railing, leaning forward with a calm smile. “ This is about the third rule~”

That gets people chattering again, fear in their tone and faces. Hatter laughs, and he waves a hand to shush them. “ Do not fear! This isn’t about you, my beautiful and beloved members! No, this is about a certain group that continues to escape my grasp, ones that you may have seen before! They come in and out like cats in the night, frisking away my items like it is nothing more than candy in a candy shop! The horror!” He puts the back of his hand against his forehead, dipping down as if the sheer thought would make him faint. He straightens up again into that relaxed position near immediately, waving a hand out towards the crowd. “ But fear not, for I have a task that will require all of you, militant and guests alike! I want you to work extra hard in locating these dastardly fiends and bring them here so that I may properly hand them justice!”

The crowd grows louder as they continue to gossip amongst one another, and Hatter feels a wave of glee pour through him from the thrill of getting one step closer to catching these robbers. “ If you bring me them, I will reward you graciously! Consider this a bounty, a game without consequence on your end! You are all smart, capable people, and the power of many overthrows a few!” People begin cheering, Hatter looking through the crowd with his award-winning smile. “ Thank you for your patience and ears, you may all go have fun now~” He says, ending his rather passionate little speech as people cheered for him and chattered loudly, Hatter stepping away with a flourish.

Perhaps like this, he’ll finally capture the little thieves and he could finally rest.

Meanwhile……

“ Holy fuck your fucking nails hurt-“ There was a light chuckle, Niragi scowling with his eyes shut tight as his hair was massaged with shampoo, head tipped back into the water basin as he rested on a reclining chair. “ Sorry! I haven’t trimmed them yet, wasn’t expecting you to have a slip ’n slide for hair so it was a last second decision! Now stay still so I can wash your hair-“ They said, going back to trying their best to be gentle but firm.

Niragi pouts, but he lets it continue. Besides him was Chloe, who was casually humming the Mentos ad song while trying to give him a manicure, having already finished his other hand. In the background was Last Boss and Chishiya, the latter of which was just there for the free strawberry milk that was brought in. Last Boss was merely waiting for his turn for a head scrub, despite having absolutely zero hair to actually scrub. The both of them were chilling on the freshly stolen new couch, with multiple empty bottles of milk and a few empty water bottles at their (freshly water foot massaged) feet.

“ So…. are we ever going to tell Hatter that we’re borrowing his couch?” The last member of the heisting squad, Ila, asks. Chloe shakes her head. The one still scrubbing the giraffe lizard merely shrugs.

“ Eh, he’ll never figure out anyways. We’ll get away like we usually do, and these three are not allowed to spill because we’re nice and offered them a free spa day.”

“ You said you’d break my dick with a baseball bat.” Niragi mutters, just loud enough for them to hear. “ The offer still stands~”