#my brain works fine now in that arena

[bobzora]

yeah femc has some really solid romance routes but i just cannot be assed to care too much because there are some crazy level yuri goings on in this game

[adozentothedawn]

It is once again the time of the year where I decide to fix my shit with the power of Pokémon, stay tuned how long it will hold

[heartfullofleeches]

That one mega horny Incubus Reader would be eating good with Pomegranate and/or Titus. No longer will they live in oppression under Priest Yan who won't even give them as much as a nip tease. Now, they're in the presence of two big titty, tall ass manwhores who'll gladly give them all the love they need - physically and emotionally, but a big emphasis on the physical. Incubus would be happy with a lot of my ocs, but Pom and Titus are at the forefront of my brain rn-

-

Pomegranate: My, aren't you a cute little thing~ I can't seem to take my eyes off of you. Your adorable little horns- Oh, and that cute tail too.... You must feel so lonely all by yourself- Come closer, Sweetheart. I'll keep you company.

Titus: Hmph- Much too delicate to put you to work as a guard. You wouldn't a second in the arena either. I wouldn't say you're completely useless, however. You'll do just fine in my bedroom as my personal self relive.

[Incubus Reader drops to their knees - hands raised in prayer at the sky.]

Incubus Reader: God? I know we ain't on the best terms, but I just gotta say - thank you.

[co-sharkie]

My Girl–

Grayson Waller x F! Wrestler! Reader

Summary: Bron Breakker flirts with Grayson’s girlfriend.

This was a request from @there-goes-thefighter 💖

Bron Breakker made his impression on the WWE universe with his Smackdown debut and signing. He observed the competition beforehand. He saw many familiar faces, but one stood out--a beautiful woman who he saw in the ring multiple times.

He loved the way she executed her moves flawlessly and her crowd work was phenomenal. It was only a matter of time before he tried to talk to her. And luckily, he saw her backstage. She was occupied on her phone while sitting on a crate. Bron strut up to her, ready to shoot his shot.

You looked up from your phone and spotted a huge man making his way towards you. He leaned on the crate and you thanked your past self for making sure the wheels were locked. He had a flirtatious smirk on his face. "I don't think I got your name, beautiful."

You quickly recognized him as Bron Breakker, the newly signed superstar. He was a man you remember Grayson having a ton a issues with during his NXT time. Grayson complained non-stop the night Bron was signed. He stayed up all night telling you every single detail about the man and why he hated him.

"Did you not look at the roster before signing with Smackdown?" You innocently smiled after your attitude showed. Bron blinked, surprised with your sass. "My name is all over the women's division."

He tried to laugh off the embarrassment as he must have missed your name (he didn't look at the women's roster). "What I'm trying to say is that I didn't see you at my meet-and-greet." The superstars typically host a small gathering backstage at catering after someone new is signed. It gives them a good opportunity to meet the new person and exchange socials with them.

"Sorry, I was going to go, but I got busy." Grayson had refused to go to the meet-and-greet. He knew that they still had bad blood. You decided to leave the arena with your boyfriend, much to his relief.

"That's fine. How about I take you out for dinner tonight so we can officially meet?" Bron offered. You were going to give him another sassy remark in hopes that he would back off, but your knight in funky button-ups had other plans.

Grayson was taken aback by the sight of Bron so close to you. He stormed up to you two. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?" Grayson was fuming.

Bron quickly pushed himself off of the crate and made himself look bigger. "Getting something you could never." Bron's snarky remark made you snort. You stifle your laugh behind your hand. Thankfully, Bron didn't notice.

"What, a girlfriend? That's really funny, mate, because you're talking to mine!" Grayson picked you up from the crate and held you in his arms. "And trust me, she doesn't want someone with a brain the size of a walnut."

You waved goodbye to Bron over Grayson's shoulder. Bron stood in silence, totally stunned by the interaction. He was unaware Grayson had a girlfriend, or that he could even get one. He was disappointed that the beautiful girl he held interest in was taken by one of his old rivals, but maybe he could prove his worth in the ring.

Grayson didn't say anything until he was almost on the other side of backstage. He set you back on your feet. "What was he saying to you?" He was much more calm now that it was just you and him, but you could still hear his frustration.

"He just asked for my name and if I wanted dinner later. I had it under control, but thanks for coming to save me." You smiled and gave him a quick kiss. Grayson grumbled something you couldn't hear but it sounded somewhere along the lines of, 'who does he think he is'.

[captainsophiestark]

The Details

Jack Thompson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Requested by anon! Hope you enjoy!

Fandom: Marvel

Day Twenty Prompt: "I saw your eyes light up."

Summary: SSR agents are supposed to notice the details, something Jack Thompson never seems to do for anyone other than himself. Or does he?

Word Count: 1,763

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I squinted, the words on the page blurring as I let my face drop slowly closer to it. Maybe if I just rested my head on the documents for a while, the secrets hiding between the lines would seep into my head and I could be done with this damn investigation...

"Hey!"

My head snapped up at a loud voice and fingers snapping a few inches away from me. Apparently, I'd drifted off without even realizing it, head down on the desk. Unfortunately, however long I'd managed to pass out, it hadn't been enough for any new breakthroughs to magically materialize in my head.

I sighed and flopped backwards in my chair, glaring at the man who'd woken me up. Chief Jack Thompson, recently returned to the side of the good guys while we were on limited assignment in LA. He'd joined Peggy, Daniel, and I in working day and night on tracking down the remaining members of the Arena Club and any conspiracies they might still be attached to, and it had been far from easy even before Jack showed up.

Technically, he'd been helpful and contributing to the case. He was the Chief of the New York SSR, after all. But his ego and his attitude continued to get in our way, even if it was marginally better than it had been.

I almost snorted at the memory of the crush I'd had on him when I'd first joined the SSR. I couldn't say I'd completely gotten over it, but from the first time he opened his mouth to spew some self-important horseshit, it had at least gotten smaller and more manageable.

"Tell me you've got coffee," I said to Jack as I crossed my arms. He huffed.

"No, but Rose and Samberly are on their way back with a round for all of us. You doing okay over here?"

"Fine," I sighed, running a hand over my face. I expected Jack to just nod and move on, but when I looked up again, I found him still standing right in front of me. "You need something, Jack?"

"No. But I think you might." I just raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue. "You just passed out so hard that I heard the sound of your head hitting the desk from across the room. I think you might need sleep, not coffee."

"I think we all need sleep and not coffee. But that's not an option right now."

Jack frowned, and for the first time I could remember, I caught him hesitating. Like he was unsure of himself. After a moment, though, he just huffed and turned away. I rolled my eyes and turned back to the papers all over my desk.

I managed to settle back into a rythm of reading reports and taking notes, and although my brain kept trying to force me to sleep again, I managed to fight it off. When Rose and Samberly came back into the bullpen with coffees in-hand, I could've kissed them both.

"Alright, coffees for everybody," said Samberly, he and Rose handing out the cups to each of us. I didn't even let him set mine on the desk, instead taking it right out of his hands. I was on my absolute last legs, and this coffee was the only thing that was gonna be able to get me through.

I'd just brought the cup to my lips when Jack came storming out of his office and actually snatched the thing out of my hands. I whirled on him and shot out of my chair, and I swear, I was moments away from punching out the Chief of the SSR.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I demanded. Jack ignored me, instead looking at Samberly with a frown.

"She can't have this." Then, at last meeting my glare, "You can't have this."

"Take your nap shit and take a hike, Thompson. I can take care of myself-"

"This has nothing to do with you needing a nap. This is from the coffee shop down the street, I went when I first got into town. They make their coffee with a bunch of fancy shit for flavoring, including almonds."

My mouth dropped open. I was super allergic to almonds, and it would not have been good if I'd had that coffee. But how the hell did Jack know that about me?

"I am so sorry," Rose said, coming over to me as Samberly nodded next to her. "We had no idea. They didn't say anything about it."

"It's okay, Rose, don't worry about it. Like you said, you didn't know. I... Thanks for catching that, Jack."

He nodded, carefully setting my coffee on Daniel's desk instead. As he did, I caught him and Peggy staring between the two of us with wild grins on their faces for god knows what reason. I narrowed my eyes at both of them.

"I'm glad I came out here when I did, but it was for more than just a coffee save," Jack said, straightening to look at me again. "I need a word with you in my office."

"My office," Daniel broke in. Jack just rolled his eyes.

"The Chief's office. So, you mind?"

He gestured towards the office, and I nodded before following him. I was still reeling a little from his save with the coffee, but any lasting impressed surprise disappeared when I saw a cot laid out in the middle of Daniel's office, set up with blankets and a pillow.

I turned back to Jack with my hands on my hips as he shut the door to the office. When he turned back to me, I raised an eyebrow and fixed him with a look.

"Not that I'm not grateful for the save with the coffee, but are you kidding me with this right now?"

"Just hear me out," Jack said, holding up his hands as a gesture of peace. I sighed, but waited for Jack to say wahtever it was he wanted to say. "This isn't just for you. I talked to Sousa and Carter, and they agreed that all of us are losing our edge from sleep depravation. We're gonna start taking turns crashing for a few hours, and all three of us agreed you need to go first since you've had a thousand yard stare going since lunch, so don't try to fight it."

I huffed, once again shocked into just staring. After a moment without argument from me, Jack stepped forward and gently took my arm, guiding me backwards toward the cot.

"C'mon. Sooner you get some rest, sooner the rest of us get to."

I sat down, still a bit out of it as I stared at Jack. He huffed a laugh and turned back to Sousa's desk, snatching something off of it and handing it to me. All I could do was blink at the cover a few times as I took it in.

The Hobbit. Jack had just given me a copy of my favorite book.

"In case you want something to read before you knock out for your nap."

Slowly, I turned my stunned blinking from the book in my hands to Jack. He had that nervous look on his face again that I'd seen earlier.

"Jack... why do you have this? I didn't think you were into the Hobbit."

He cleared his throat and rubbed at the back of his neck, looking away from me. Still, I could see a blush rising to his neck and cheeks. My confusion grew.

"You talked it up so much, I figured I should give it a chance. I'm not very far in, since we've all been a little busy, but-"

"Hold on." I put up a hand to stop Jack short. "I talked about this book at the office one time. It wasn't even specifically in conversation with you. You remember that?"

Jack let out a little huff, looking everywhere in the office but at me before his gaze finally found mine again. He shrugged.

"I saw your eyes light up. Watching you so animated, talking about something you love... yeah, it was pretty memorable."

I stared at Jack, my mouth dropping open slightly in shock. He looked incredibly uncomfortable, but I couldn't get my mind in gear enough to figure out why or to put him at ease. I'd spent a long time irritated with Jack, largely because he didn't seem to pay attention to anyone other than himself. That assumption had been blow to smithereens in the last ten minutes, more than once.

"Jack... that's actually really sweet. Thank you."

He nodded, clearing his throat and apparently trying to shake it off.

"Don't mention it. It's not a big deal."

"It is a big deal," I said. I wasn't totally sure where the words had come from (sleep depravation was probably a good bet), but I knew they were true, and that I wanted to say them to Jack. "It's a big deal that you remembered this stuff. Hell, I would've been in serious trouble if I'd had a sip of that coffee, and out of everyone at the office, you're the only one who caught the problem. It's really sweet of you. It... means a lot to me."

Jack's face was bright red by the time I was done, but I could see him fighting a smile.

"Well... I'm glad. Maybe... after we both get some rest, and we deal with this whole Arena Club disaster... you'd let me take you to dinner?"

I grinned, huffing a slightly disbelieving laugh as my heart raced. I nodded to Jack.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I'd like that."

I could see the stress drain out of Jack's body, his shoulders dropping from his ears as he relaxed and smiled at me.

"Okay. Great. Welll... good, then."

"Yeah. Good."

The two of us shared a dopey smile, clearly both a little loopy from lack of sleep. I slowly laid back on the bed, holding the Hobbit close to my chest as Jack headed for the door of the room.

"Sleep well, sweetheart. I'll go find some coffee you can have in the meantime."

I absolutely beamed at Jack as he flipped off the lights and returned to the bullpen, shutting the door behind him. The smile stayed on my face as I laid back, staring at the dark office ceiling. Jack still had his moments, but... all of a sudden, there was a massive potential light in the tunnel for my crush where there very much hadn't been one before. Among quite a few reasons I couldn't wait to wrap up this case, dinner with Jack Thompson had suddenly jumped to the top of the list.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @infinetlyforgotten @sagesmelts @gaychaosgremlin

[magicalrocketships]

ok im ready to be converted. what f1 fics do u recommend to start my full brain rot?

EXCELLENT, my plan is working (make people like what I like). Here is a very small and somewhat random selection, mostly Daniel/Max except where stated. Extremely loosely grouped. I've said if they're focused on them racing (grid), even if it's an AU. I have not associated anyone's ao3 handle with their tumblr name, so apologies for that. Do come back and tell me your thoughts and feelings. (!!)

F1 TASTING MENU (Maxiel Flavour)

Amuse Bouche: an opening vid

maxiel x 2022 season - “i would just draw it at like, i wouldn’t say love” by @daniel-enchante

Starters (shorter (ish) fics)

Cool Things to Say to Your Soulmate - words by powerfulowl, art by loveleah (grid, E): Only dumbasses get goosed. If a Soulmate Goose of Enforcement comes to intervene in your love life, it is a clear sign you have fucked up. You’re so bad at navigating human relationships that the universe thinks a violent waterfowl impervious to damage and capable of walking through walls will actually improve the situation. 

i carry your heart with me by capsize (grid, M): “What’s up little guy?” Daniel asks – because like his car, Max’s heart is a boy too – and moves the heart from the desk into his lap. “Is Max not paying attention to you? He can be a bit of a cunt, yeah? No, I know.” Or, five times someone found Max’s heart, and one time they kept it.

Just kissed you hello by charlotte_stant (grid, M): Everything freezes for a long moment��and then Daniel’s heart is back to beating and it’s fine, he can see how funny the situation is. “Maximus, my brother, my comrade,” he says, “what the fuck, mate. I’m not gay, ok?"

Amuse Bouche: another vid

max and daniel at redbull by @love-leah

Main Course (longer fics)

Good To You by TheNorthRemembers (grid, E): Max walks and talks like he has a big dick. He always has, and it’s not like Daniel ever really thought about Max’s dick, but he just- He assumed, maybe. That the equipment would match the attitude. That at the very least what Max is packing, would be completely average. The fact, that apparently it’s not- Well. Daniel doesn’t know what to do with that information, in more ways than one. Or: Max a small dick, Daniel is into it; lots of sex and a bit of angst ensue

my kind's your kind by hardlythewiser (grid, series, E, Max/Kelly/Daniel, resolving with Max/Daniel): Max can talk about it now, out of bed, casual. Kelly helped him practice, talking about it like it was just another activity, like her tennis lessons or nights out with friends, ever since that first time. But she doesn't say anything now.

To the Victor Belong the Spoils by powerfulowl (hunger games AU, E): Daniel didn’t kill anyone in the arena. He’s the one untarnished Hunger Games victor. The beautiful boy who stole the hearts of Panem with a fishing net and a smile. He can kiss babies and sell sun cream and fuck who they tell him to fuck and suck on the fingers that feed him– he’s not gonna bite. But then Max wins the Hunger Games. Max bites.

Amuse Bouche: vid time

"what's going on between you and max verstappen?" by @love-leah

Dessert (where the focus is on sex)

Sweeter than I ever knew by purples_all_the_way_down (grid, girls, E): Daniel has never had an orgasm. Somehow (Charles, it's always Charles), Max gets involved. Things get complicated.

I just want to know you like nobody ever has by 33Max (grid, E): They are in the bathroom, Daniel had insisted that he needed a shower if they were going to do this. He’s still damp, Max hadn’t even waited for him to dry himself off before he was pushing Daniel against the counter and dropping to his knees behind him.

Coffee (something different)

both hands tied on the wheel by kayshea (George Russell/Toto Wolff, grid, E): George feels, stupidly, like a cat that’s been stroked. Like his skin is electric. It’s what everyone has been saying to him all day, but it feels different, somehow, coming from Toto.

if i should come upon your house lonely by withfeathers (Lewis Hamilton/Hanna Prater/Sebastian Vettel, grid, E): The summer after Sebastian's retirement, Lewis visits Switzerland for a week. Nothing about it goes as he expected.

[accio-victuuri]

THE STORY OF THE 85 LOGO 🏍️

Since Yibo was spotted on the race track, the conversation around the logo is picking up again. This has been discussed so many times before & in bits and pieces but I want to give it a go and make my own version of it’s history. It’s a mix of the logo itself as well as the cpn speculation surrounding it’s origin. I’m not gonna talk about other related designer zz candies, this is only for the logo.

I used this video by R背靠大树好乘凉W as a guide on the timeline but i did my own fact checking and added a lot more points especially with Parts II-IV of this post.

I. THE ORIGIN

11/10/2018, Yamaha Racing Team weibo account posts the first look of the 85 logo. At this point, everyone already knew who this is supposed to be. It’s also cute how the time it was posted had the timestamp “28” which is Ai Bo, another clue.

“ driver number 85 is coming soon! “

1/19/2019, The same account officially shared that Yibo will be joining the MLT YAMAHA team for 2019 and Tracer 85 was born. Yibo also reposted this and replied with :

Happy New Year to all! ! ! ! ! racing career has begun! ! ! ! ☺️☺️☺️Please call me driver Wang Yibo! ! ! ! ～～～～～

1/29/2019, the draft for Yibo’s Tracer 85 racing suit was released by the weibo account. It prominently features “85”.

Now a key player in this whole designing mystery is DAINESE a company that describes themselves as: Dedicated to producing the most effective safety solutions in every arena where athletes continually push the human body and mind to surpass their prior achievements. From our motorcycle racing origins to alpine skiing, mountain biking, competitive sailing and outer space. So they posted about the racing suit itself as well as the helmet. Again, both things featured the 85 logo, along with other symbols that is an entirely different cpn on it’s own.

It’s so obvious that a professional company will make this for WYB. Even if we CPN that the logo was made by XZ, or even a rough sketch of it and passed on to Yibo, down to this company’s team to refine. There is just no way that XZ will write his name down as the owner of it, if we didn’t have that BTS video of their conversation about it then we won’t have a confirmation. Even if we have that video, there is still the probability that XZ didn’t follow through.

Then someone asked the company itself about the origin of the logo and they said WYB brought it himself.

The logo of No. 85 is not designed by us, it is brought by Yibo himself

Thank you for your support

If you look at the original post for the racing suit, the comments are all wf being so prissy about who designed it. I know that this post is supposedly about the 85 logo but the suit is a huge part of that. Also I think it’s about time to clear up the fact that cpfs are not trying to discredit anyone who made WYB’s gear. Why can’t we just be happy that he has a cool moto suit with the 85 on it? We are. We really are. It’s just that analyzing the elements within it is something that CPFs love to do. Not even for the relationship part of it but just to understand him better. The thing is, I don’t look at it and think only about how “handsome” yibo is. I also wanna know what it means. The details. This is something that represents him as a racer so I will naturally be curious about what’s on it. Not to say that so/os are shallow or anything, It’s just that we are two different kinds of fans. Our brains don’t work the same way. That’s fine. I wish people will one day accept that we all approach fandom in different ways. If you don’t like something— then ignore it.

So the conclusion here is, 85 was not an idea/logo made by the company DAINESE. Yes, they produced the gear and finalized everything. They were hired by YAMAHA to do so. However the one who drew that logo on a piece of paper is unknown.

Our best guess is Xiao Zhan. 🫶🏼

II. IMPORTANCE OF 85 TO YIBO

85 represents Yibo’s birthday, August 5. But it’s really became his “identity” when Tracer 85 was born. Even if he wasn’t racing, this number became a recurring theme & design with his endorsements. For example when he did a collab with Miniso, the goods had 85 on them.

He has moved to the “Panther” more recently but 85 and 0805 is still very much a Yibo’s thing. There are even endorsements that have 85 on the price they sell his items for ( example is Richora ).

So using 85 is not a spur of the moment thing and goes beyond his racing career.

III. OTHER SIGHTINGS ( of the logo )

Aside from the race track, the most important way the logo was incorporated was through merchandise. Whether it’s the custom phone case that only Yibo has —

or the infamous 85 cap which was repped by yinzheng. the sus part here is yibo commenting, only acknowledging the post but then yz had to reply back with : lemons grow on lemon trees, under the lemon tree there’s me. which means he is jealous and then yibo had to reply back with a series of emojis that makes things more suspicious.

sure, yinzheng can mean that he is jealous of the merch. that yibo has his own now and that the whole tracer 85 now goes beyond being a racer. but the cpf explanation to this is that he is jealous that wyb has someone that made this amazing logo for him too. it's really so cool to have your own designer at home.

a fan favorite would be this cap, released by Day Day Up in their WYB goods line back in 2020. What’s interesting is, the number of pieces available for it’s initial presale was 1005. LOL. 1005 is October 5, of course, XZ’s birthday. I think the number of pieces for a presale though not entirely up to yibo, may still be influenced by him. It could easily be 8500 pieces just to be meta but no. Why 1005? Is it a nod to the guy who made the 85 design? Plus if this logo was owned by Yamaha or Dainese, then why was it allowed to be used commercial by a completely different entity. Our answer is that it’s Yibo.

It’s curious that the cap received this special treatment, because out of all the merch sold in that line, it is the one that had the 85 logo in it’s original form. The rest had their own iteration of 85 but the cap is the closest to the “logo”. This is why a lot of fans, and CPFs specifically wanted to get it.

My favorite memory from when this line came out was the loud speculation about the logo and it’s connection to XZ. There were even talks of 🍤 buying something cause if XZ is the designer, then it’s also a XZ merch. This is the same year when 🍤 was going around SDC3 filming cause XZ was supposedly there. So yeah. This cannot be confirmed and no shrimp will ever admit but it was definitely a rumor going around that time. Looking back, that CPN was beneficial ( in a way ) to shrimps because it casts XZ in a good light. They know XZ’s capability so they can sort of agree to it. Not that we need so/o fans validating our opinions/speculations, but it’s a possible explanation to their reaction. Compared to motos who were angry with the association and insulted XZ. Implying that he isn’t capable, they can say that cause they don’t know XZ.

IV. Connection to Xiao Zhan “the designer” and candies

Turtles pointing to XZ as the designer is not only rooted in CPN, but the fact that making logos was his previous job. Even before the leaked video, it made sense to the community because after all, this is what XZ is good at. He’d done it for years in school and as a professional. There were photos of his previous work that leaked and he also talked about logo-making when he visited the bilibili office. Where he shared how frustrating it was to work with clients. More recently, in one his vlogs, we could see him explaining his thoughts on a visual logo for XZ Studio.

( video is about xz the designer, mostly talking about it during xfire / xnine days )

So his capability, closeness & familiarity with WYB at the time of the logo’s conception is key. CPFs are very familiar with how XZ makes art and logos for himself so to us it’s a rational speculation to think XZ had some influence on this.

There is another talk about Yuehua being the one who made it. They do have people who can make those right? However it was pointed out that with how they make logos for their other artists, it’s unlikely. They did claim the rights to the Panther, but the identity of the artist was left blank on the application. No one ever did claim ownership of this Logo or the Panther in public. Why wouldn’t they? It’s free promotion.

CPN Clues:

• 85 read as 28. Ai Bo + the Z.

• The Z is really my favorite clue 🥺🥺🥺🥺

• How it looks very similar to the M skateboarding logo. Which can also look like a 85.

• Some other explanation on what the 85 could mean. It’s XZ’s style to have hidden meanings aside from what you actually see.

• The minimalist design that screams XZ.

The 85 logo talk and cpn have really been in full swing when EVISU released those photos and I hope BXGs ( especially big accounts on the bird app and beyond ) will rein it in with the Xiao Zhan association. We already know how hostile the environment is so it’s best to not use his full name. It’s actually a common CPF way of doing things, not using their full names in our posts. As excited as we all were, the whole point was that tracer 85 is back, not the CPN. I know it’s tricky to find a balance with how our brains are wired, but you will learn. It should always be them as individuals first.

85 logo and all other “designer GG” is one of those CPN that is very popular and widely circulated in the bxg community — and with good reason. However, it is in no way to take away 85 from Yibo. It’s him. It is his brand and it will always be his.

This is one in a couple of “yizhan mysteries” out there that keeps the BXG flame alive 🔥. These (alleged) silent collaboration/s between them are so great because it shows how well they work together as a team.

-END.

[georgiapeach30513]

Closer to Heaven and Closer to You, Part 1

Summary:  When your boyfriend, Ransom wants to take a trip back home to the ranch to meet your family, you are unsure.  Knowing that a rodeo in town could only mean your ex, Frank Adler, was most likely riding for eight seconds, still trying to beat his best friend, Steve Rogers.  All you wanted was a nice time, not old memories bothering your brain.

Pairings:  Frank Adler X Reader (Past), Ransom Drysdale X Reader (Present)

Rating:  explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, unprotected sex, PIV sex, too many cowboy/bull riding innuendos, swallowing, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  4.7K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics​

“Hey, watch it,” Mindy pulls you out of the way of a group of rodeo clowns that were heading to the ring.  “You always gotta have a watchful eye.  You’re okay, come on.  So we’re going to be stationed beside the fence.  This isn’t some big time rodeo, so don’t get attached.”

“What?” You asked confused, trying to keep up with the fast moving nurse that you were going to be stuck with for the evening.

“Oh, don’t give me that,” she rolls her eyes looking straight ahead.  “First off, get on some birth control.  Don’t let these cowboys drag you down.  Secondly, don’t become some buckle bunny to these local boys.  You want to make it to the big time.  Travel to the big arenas; Cheyenne, Arlington, Houston, ya know?”

“I’m not following,” she stops abruptly, and turns around.  Her big doe eyes look you up and down, and she chuckles.  “This is literally my first rodeo.  I answered an ad.  And here I am.”

“Yeah, they keep hiring pretty ones,” she was talking about herself like she was hideous.  Mindy was adorable.  Tiny little thing with bright green eyes.  She lifts up her left hand, showing you her rings, “I’m taken.  They stay away from me.”

“Who is they?” Her arm goes out to her side, and she gestures towards the backsides of dozens of men in cowboy hats, tight shirts, and tighter jeans.  

“Bull riders.  They’re a dime a dozen.  They’ll talk this big game here, because they need a place to wet their dicks for the night.  If they’re lucky, dumb, and have enough they go on to the next county and find them another one.”

“Buckle bunnies?”

One cowboy happens to turn around, and it’s glaringly obvious what buckles she was referring to.  He had a giant silver buckle, bow legged, tall, and dangerously handsome, “And that one is the worst of them all.  Stay away,” she smiles at him, and gestures with her hands to shoo, “Nu-uh, Steve, we don’t want whatever it is your peddling.  We’re working,” even though she was talking to this man like he was a dog, she still opens her arms wide for a quick hug.

He extends a hand out to you with a crooked grin, and you reach yours out to him, “Well, hello darlin’, you look new here.”

“She is, and my help, go on with your boys.  I’m sure we’ll see you and Frank later.”

“Now, that’s not nice.  I’m not near as reckless as him.  I can’t help it, he can never get the points that I do.”

“And you can’t help that he’s more charming than you.  Goodbye, Steve,” she grabs your hand, pulling you over to the nurses station, and you keep your eyes ahead of you.  It was like he was a predator searching for his next prey, and you were just there for the taking.  Waiting on the sidelines for him to sink his talons into you.

“Steve is trouble.  He is one that will make you fall in love in one night, and you never hear from him again, unless he gets another itch.  The bunnies all go after him because he’s the top rider.  Bucky is the one you go after.  Sweet as southern tea.  He’s going to make a real fine husband, but Frank…he has no quittin’ sense.”

“What do you mean,” you look back towards Steve and his friends.  One seemed particularly taller than the rest.  

“He’s gonna end up dying for a buckle.  He won’t hurt you for another woman.  He’ll hurt you for another ride,” the tallest of the group gives you a big smile, and tips his hat towards you, and your head spins to look back at Mindy.  “Great.  You’ve been caught hook, line, and sinker.  Don’t let those long legs, tight ass, and smirk get you.  You are here to work.  You are not here to chase around some cowboy.”

“You never have?”

“That is beside the point.”

“Steve?”

“I ain’t never chased him.  He found me.  I’m just telling you, I’ve lost a lot of nurses because they can’t leave them be.  Cowboys can’t be trusted.  Find you someone who sponsors one.  You get the glamor of the rodeo, and get the security of money,” she tilts her head, and blows a kiss at a businessman in a booth.  “That’s my Johnny.  He’s a representative for Wrangler, and he looks even better in them.”

“So…”

“Just say no to the cowboys, ya got it?”

“Yeah.  Completely got it,” and yet you still find your way to look back to Steve and his group, and your eyes go back to the tallest one.  He definitely looked like trouble, and you hoped that he was Bucky.

“We’re up,” Mindy grabs your arm, cussing up a storm.  The both of you race to the side of the ring, pushing past the cowboys next to the chute, “Dammit, Frank,” she pushes the tall cowboy down in a chair, and he yells up at her, “Oh, don’t act like you don’t get off on this pain.”

“Well, I ain’t done it.  It’s just part of the job.  Don’t touch me,” he jerks his head out of her way, looking back in the ring, “Would somebody get my damn hat?”

“Frank, your wound needs cleaning,” Mindy groans, still trying to get to the gash in his head, but he smacks her hand out of the way.

“Yeah, and you’re rough.  I want her to do it,” she shakes her head no, but you get that enticing grin, “You can butterfly a wound up, right?” You nod your head, stepping closer to him.  “Usually Mindy here just straddles my legs to get closer to me.”

“Frank!”

“I’m just saying,” trying to prove to Mindy you weren’t some buckle chaser, you push his head back, and lean over him.  “You got a name, sweetheart?” You give him your name, while you clean the wound, “That’s a real pretty name.  You know you stick your tongue when you do that?”

“I do not.”

“Ow!  Dammit that stings.”

“Alcohol usually does.  Hold still, ya big baby.  You’re acting like this hurts worse than being thrown from that big bull.  You gotta death wish or something?”

“No,” his legs spread out even more, and he sinks down lower into the seat.  Mindy, seeing you had everything under control, walks away, watching as the next rider preps himself.  “You wanna know what the problem is?  Why Steve always looks like the big time hero?  It’s the draw of the bulls.  You know what he always gets?  Ole Blue or Kensington, the smallest ones.  You know who I always get?”

“Ole Red or Blue Bonnet?”

“She’s got jokes,” he chuckles, stilling while you butterfly his cut.  “No, his name is the Hornet.  He’s the biggest and meanest, and I still get my eight seconds, so I’m not too concerned.  It’d be nice to start winning every once in a while though.  Steve gets it easy, and the crowd loves him.  I get it hard, but I got loyal fans.”

“The ones that follow you to your hotel after a ride?”

Someone hands Frank his hat, and you remove your gloves, giving him a knowing look, “You've been talking to Mindy too much.  Trust me, I got more rides in me than on a bull.  I ride horses, too.  Used to ride sheep.  I don’t get a girl in every city.”

“Oh?  You get one and make her chase you around?”

“I’ll let you know when I find one,” before you realize what was happening, someone bumps into you, knocking you straight into Frank’s lap.  “I got cha.  You gonna need a bandage, darling?”

“No.  I’m good.”

“Gotta watch these rough riders.  They just don’t know when to pay attention to a lady in their way.”

“Are you a rough rider, Frank?”

“I caught ya, didn’t?  I’d say I’m a gentle rider, but all kinds of fun.  I’m not who you think I am.  And I’m far from what Mindy says I am,” he was definitely cute.  This must have been the charm she was talking about.  It wasn’t just those tight jeans, there was this sweetness under his shameless flirting.

“She says you’re reckless.”

“Well, that I am.  But I ain’t Steve.  I ain’t got the time or patience to deal with those,” you give him a head nod, starting to walk back to your post.  “Do I get your number or something?  I’m also clumsy.  It might be nice to have someone patch me up.  You did such a good job.  I don’t even feel it.”

“I hope you score well tonight, Frank,” you were currently walking backwards.  You didn’t want to fall for him, but you figured it was too late.  It had been too long since you even talked to a guy, much less one that looked that good in jeans, and knew how to handle a horse, in his case a bull, too.

“I’d score better if I got a number!” You bite your lip, shaking your head no.  “You going to the next county?”

“She is Frank.  Get to the chute, it’s Bucky’s turn,” Frank puts his hat on his head, giving you a quick nod, before walking off.  He was making sure you saw just how good he looked in them jeans, and Mindy made sure you knew that she saw you looking.  Giving you a whack in the back of your head, “Don’t fall in love with a cowboy.”

“You said that he…”

“I know what I said, and I stick behind it.  I’m saying that is your kryptonite.  Stay away.  You’re going on tour with me.  And I like you.  That was clean work on Frank.  You’re just easily distracted.”

“Does he always get hurt?”

“Just about every damn rodeo.  He can’t gracefully fall off the bull.  He makes sure it’s dramatic as hell.  Remember…”

“Got it,” you take a drink from your water bottle, glancing over at Frank, Steve, and Bucky.  Frank should have been helping tie Bucky’s hand off, but he kept glancing back at you, “What about having some fun with him?”

“You think you can have fun with Frank and not fall in love?  Not fall for that sweet accent, and charming smile?”

No, you didn’t.  You were already too far gone.  Already distracted by the man with blue green eyes.  A tall drink of water that you wouldn’t mind seeing after the rodeo.  Mindy knew it, too.  Knew that Frank had found him a girl that was easy to follow him around from show to show, because that’s exactly what you were going to be doing.  Steve loved the draw of a girl coming to him.  Bucky was too shy to even consider talking to a girl.  While Frank, if it wasn’t for his penchant for painful behavior to himself, would have been the one.  He didn’t break hearts, he broke bones.  

“Mhmm…already gone.”

“Shut up.”

“Here,” she gives you a quarter and starts laughing.  “Keep this in between your legs.  If it falls while you're around him, you’re in trouble,” you toss quarter at her, and try to watch Bucky.  It was your job description to watch him.  Ready to assist where you could, but you were failing.  Frank had already got your attention.

“I’m serious.”

“I’m fine.”

“Mmm,” his lips kiss up your stomach, and between the spears of your tits.  Kissing up your neck, giving your jaw a little nibble, before his body hovers over you, “Ransom, what are you doing?”

“Morning to you, too, Buns.  I was just trying to be sexy and romantic.”

“If we weren’t having dinner with your parents today it would be,” he sits up, still having his knees on either of you, but nods his head.  “Ran, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, you’re right.  We’ve had this conversation. I wished Harlan was my father, but unfortunately I got stuck with Linda and Richard.  But, I have a very important question to ask Greatnana.  And you are going to wear the pretty little dress that I bought just for the occasion,” you try and open your mouth, but he places his whole hand over it. “And, in a few weeks we’re going to Montana.”

“Why are we doing that again?”

“You miss your family.  You talk about that place nonstop.”

“I do love it here.”

“You love the estate.  Love not having anyone around.  And then my parents show up, and you get all feisty and cute, because they call you the help,” you roll your eyes, but still give him the softest smile.  “I don’t tell you enough, but I’m glad you came here.  I don’t know what I would have done had you not been here for Harlan.  You acted fast.”

“And you fell in love,” his hands go to your side, and he starts tickling you.  Making your body thrash around, and he knew how much you loathe tickling.  If it wasn’t for his sweet little face, laughing along with you, it would be much more annoying.  “You did.”

He stops abruptly, and starts sinking lower on you again, “As did you, Bunny.  If I recall you fell asleep on my shoulder.  You held my hand.  I never had anyone that comforted me.”

“You needed it.  And I couldn’t just leave Harlan.  I had to make sure those nurses knew what they were doing.  They weren’t.  I told them he was already on blood thinners, and that they had to chase his veins.”

“And I thank you for that.  Gave him round the clock care, without pay,” you glare up at him.  You most definitely did get paid.  Your rent was paid for the whole year.  “You didn’t have money in your hand.”

“I did get a date out of that stay.”

“You did.  I’m so glad you asked.  And I’m also so glad that I got to realize that I can go out to eat and not even spend a hundred dollars.  And that’s with drinks and dessert.”

“We’ve upgraded to appetizers, too,” you give him a little reminder.  He loved your morning giggles.  Was addicted to them.  His mornings with you were always so special.  A bit sexy, but mostly it was just sweet.  The two of you together, alone for the moment, before a dual shower, to save water of course, and head to the estate.  Ransom opted not to work at the office as much since you had started working there.

“Speaking of which, is there a Longhorn in Montana?”

“Yes,” you give him a little smack to his arm, and he dramatically flops over on his back.  “Come on, let’s get our shower.”

“Can we get a quickie in at lunch time?  I know just the place we haven’t tried.”

“I have to be presentable for dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Drysdale.”

“Those two ruin everything.”

“How about I give you road head on the way home?” Pulling you over top of him, he gives you a kiss to your nose, and then your lip.

“I’d love that,” he whispers in your mouth.  “And I love you.”

“And I love you, Ransom.  Come on, shower.  Harlan and I need our coffees.”

“Ransom needs his coffee, too.”

“Hey, I caught up with you,” Frank jogs up behind you, while you finally load your final bag into your car, and slam the trunk closed.  “Am I going to see you in the next county?”

“Seeing how I signed a contract, yes.  You’ll be graced with my presence for the next few months.  What are you needing, Frank?”

“You remembered my name,” ugh, it was slightly infuriating the way the man looked with his mud covered clothes, sweaty skin, and popped up cowboy hat, trying to avoid his wound that you had patched up earlier.  You start to head into your car, and he chases after you, opening the door for you, “I was wondering, I mean…the boys and I usually find us some bar to go to after rides, and there’s usually dancing.  Would you want to go?”

“You’re asking me to dance with you, and your clothes are all dirty?  You sure know how to make a woman swoon,” backing yourself into the car, you smile at him.  Needing to close your door, but he still held on.  “Frank, give me my door.”

“You didn’t say no.”

“Didn’t say yes either.”

He gives you a chuckle, his eyes looking down at his worn state.  “What if I took a shower?  Got all freshened up.  The beer at these bars is usually stale, but the music is decent.  We got us a hotel room down the road from the bar.  It’s in walking distance,” you scoff, pulling at the door even harder, “That’s not what I meant.  Honestly.”

“If you want someone to chase your buckle around, I’m sure there’s plenty.”

“I done told you, I don’t want no buckle chasing bunny.  If I did, I wouldn’t be offering to buy you cheap beer, willing to dance out in public with you.  Bunnies are good for one thing.  You’re not that,” he lets your door go, closing it for you.  “It’s the Wild Horse.  Just come on by.  It’d be nice to see you in something besides scrubs.”

“Goodbye, Frank.”

“You still didn’t say no,” you didn’t.  And maybe you were crazy or a glutton for punishment, but you wanted to see him out of those chaps.  Wondered if he wore the hat out in public, too, or if he wore something different.  You had too many thoughts running in your mind, but you were curious.

“I know that look,” Mindy leans in your open window.  “Did you learn nothing?”

“No,” you pout at her.  He was cute, no he was hot.  And while it was silly, could it be so bad.  “Is he that bad of a guy?”

“No.  He’s honestly not.  Just remember, his first love is the rodeo.  If you’re wanting to tame him and have your ranch and family with him, I’d say you need to just walk away.  It would take a special woman for Frank to stop this life.”

“I just don’t want to go back to my hotel alone, and sit there watching reruns of some show that I’m not even paying attention to,” it was innocent enough and true.  You just wanted to have fun.  Do things you hadn’t done before.  That was the purpose of this job.  You wanted to see what was out there, even if it was from a rodeo.  

“Don’t get your heart set on changing the man, and you’ll be fine.”

Steve kicks at Frank’s chair, the man hadn’t stopped staring at the door.  A steady round of pitchers of beer kept his belly full.  But he was hoping you showed up.  “Let’s play pool.”

“Don’t want to.”

“Darts?  You haven’t played darts in a while.”

“Nope,” Steve looks over at Bucky who hadn’t stopped dancing with a girl he met at the bar.  She thought it was going to be more than that.  That Bucky was going to get in a heated kiss and take her to their hotel room.  He wouldn’t.  Bucky was a hopeless romantic, and one night stands never happened with him.

“You’re killing my vibe.”

Frank looks over at Steve glaring.  “Go find you someone to fuck in the bathroom.”

“Already have.  Found one that wants a threesome, and Bucky don’t…”

“No.”

“Dammit,” Steve throws his head back whining, “Why are you sitting here waiting on that damn nurse.  She didn’t seem interested.”

“Yeah, she did.”

“Okay.  She was interested.  Where is she now?” Frank gets the biggest smile on his face as you walk through the door.  Your eyes move around the smoky atmosphere in search of Frank, while Steve groans.  “Have your fun.  Maybe we can talk her into some switching action.”

“No.  Go find fuck number two.  I’m going to dance,” Steve and Frank both stand up, and it isn’t long until some pink manicured hand is rubbing on Steve’s belt, but Frank sees nothing, but you.  Meeting you beside the bar.

“What’re you drinking?” He asks with a smile.

“Already ordered a double shot of Jack.”

“Ooh, she’s ballsy.  Put her on my tab,” the bartender slides your cup in front of you, acknowledging what Frank had said. “Was beginning to think you weren’t going to show.”

“I was beginning to think the same thing,” you nervously laugh, ready to get another drink when yours is finished, but Frank starts pulling you out to the dance floor.  “What are you doing?”

“You came to dance.  Besides, alcohol impairs your thought process.  I don’t want that.”

“Why’s that,” his hands touch your hips, bringing you closer to him, and you want more.  You hadn’t been with anyone since you started nursing school.

“I just want you to be fully aware of me,” even with a ball cap on, Frank was still attractive.  He didn’t flash a buckle around or a cowboy hat in search of someone who knew who he was or what he did, unlike Steve.  He was proud of the fact that he was a bull rider, and loved to show it off.  Frank looked like an average man.  With long legs, and the cutest ass.  He was a dream.  A sinful little dream.

Frank struggles to find his keycard with the way you were kissing all over his neck.  Pulling out his shirt, and your fingers rub over his lower abs.  “Hold on…stop…dammit, I can’t,” he finally opens the door, undoes his belt, ripping it out of the loops before placing it on the door handle, and pulls you inside.

Walking you to the bed furthest from the door, and you see that pretty white cowboy hat.  Pushing him onto the bed, you grab it up, getting a few tongue clicks from him, and you cock up your eyebrow.  “You gotta earn the hat ma’am.”

“How do I earn it?”

“You gotta….gotta ride a bull and try not to get bucked off,” pulling off the straps to your sundress, you let it sink to the floor, and Frank yips.  “That…that’s a start.”

“You gonna show me how to do an eight second ride?”

“Shit, I hope this lasts longer than eight seconds.”

“Frank, take off your clothes,” his fingers start unbuttoning his shirt, before it’s enough to pull over his head.  And he stands, tripping out of his jeans.  Boxer briefs were your favorite, and those white ones were leaving nothing to the imagination.  “All of it,” unhooking your bra, you toss it into the floor, and walk out of your panties just as Frank discards his briefs.  “Can I wear the hat now, cowboy?”

“Y-yeah.  Yeah.  You really gonna ride this bull?  Yep,” he stops talking when you sling your leg over him.  Grabbing the base of his cock you slowly start to sink over him.  “Oh, you feel better than any saddle.  Yeah,” he sighs when you sink down completely.

His hat perches on your head, while he smiles up at you.  “I could get used to this view,” he gives your ass a smack, “Okay boys.  Go on, ride your bull,” you slowly start grinding over him.  Rolling your hips, whimpering at the way he stretched you out.  He was thick, by far the biggest dick you had ever taken.  You understood now why he strutted around the arena.

He reaches up to pinch your nipples.  Pulling them until you were right at his face, and he gives you a filthy kiss.  Didn’t hesitate to push his tongue past your lips.  “I said, you gotta earn that hat.  Show me you know how to ride a bull,” he bites at your lip.  Letting his teeth softly scrape over your kiss bruised lips, and releases your nipples.  

You sit back up, and put your hands behind you.  Getting off your knees, and resting your feet beside him in a crouch.  He had the perfect view to see where the two of you connected.  Could see your walls slicking his cock up as you start bouncing on him.  Hugging his dick so perfectly.  Your walls were already fluttering over him.  The fact that he had that effect on you made him even harder, and you moan out his name.  

“Come here.  I wanna use those reigns again,” getting back to your knees, he grabs onto your tits, while you ride him like your life depended on it.  Slamming yourself over his giant cock, and making the prettiest sounds.  “Just like that.  You’re earning that fucking hat.  Just like that.”

Steve stumbles to the hotel room, and lifts up Frank’s belt.  Looking back up to the bar confused, before forgetting what was even going on.  Taking his card key out, he opens the door to see your body move over Frank’s. Sick fucker had you wearing his cowboy hat, and both of you were distracted by the pleasure.  

“Looks like you found you a buckle bunny after all,” he hiccups, as you drop your body down on Frank’s chest, and his hands move to cover your ass.  “She’s a real pretty one.  Your belt is on the door handle.”

“To tell you not to come in here.  Dammit, Steve, Get out.”

“Did you have to pay for this rodeo?” He collapses on the bed, completely passed out and snoring.

And you look up at Frank, “You’re sharing a room with him?”

“Him and Bucky.”

“You know I had my own room.  Steve just saw me naked.  Called this a fucking rodeo,” he starts moving your body over him, and you don’t wanna smile.  You don’t wanna care, but it does feel so good.  It wasn’t fair that he didn’t get to finish.

“You haven’t got bucked off yet.  About the buckle bunny business…”

“I’m only your bunny, Frank.”

“Good,” he lifts your head up to give you a soft kiss, “I don’t want anyone else to be my Bunny.  You go on and finish us. He won’t remember this.”

“How many points do I get with this ride?” You playfully ask, starting to get back into fucking him.

“Oh, you’ve scored off the charts.  I bet it’ll be even higher when I finish.”

“In that case,” your hands press into his chest while you finish the ride for the both of you.  Forgetting Steve all together, he could lay there passed out and drunk for all you cared.  Frank’s fingers dig into your waist as he makes you pound over him harder before holding you still.  It just wasn’t enough.  He needed to feel just how weak you got when he fucked into you.  He pushes his hips up into you with such force you start to see stars.  Jackhammering up into your drenched cunt over and over again.

Your walls constrict around him, and you slap your hand over your mouth as you come hard over his dick.  Frank pushes you off him, and onto your back, adjusting himself to straddle your upper body, and he fists his cock.  It only takes a few pumps before he releases his load into your mouth.  Stifling his own moans as he lets every drop drip onto your greedy tongue.  

“That was beautiful.  I really wished you’d stay,” he whispers, climbing off you to put his underwear back on.  “Steve and Bucky always share a bed.  You can wear my shirt and panties.  Cuddle up real nice.”

“You won’t hate me in the morning?”

“I’m going to hate it when the morning comes because I’ll have idiots in the bed beside us.  I’d much rather fuck you in the morning.”

“Just for tonight, Frank,” he throws you his shirt and your panties as he walks to retrieve his belt.

“Can I come in yet?” Bucky asks, sitting on the floor.  “I couldn’t find Steve, so I figured he found him another one.”

“He’s passed out in here, Buck,” Frank gives you another look as you crawl under the blanket, before he lets Bucky inside.  “Don’t ask me any questions, and I won’t tell you any lies.”

“Lips are sealed.  Oh…hey, uh…”

“You can call me, Bunny.”

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @infatuatedharleys @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10​ @patzammit​ @lavender-annd-lilac​

[highway-tuna]

'777' (Chapter One)

pairing(s): Jake Kiszka x Reader, Josh Kiszka x Reader

wc: 3.4k+

warnings: depictions of anxiety, alcohol, swearing

Masterlist

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The loud slam of a palm hitting wood right beside your head shocks you straight out of your sleep, perking your head up and looking around. The scenery around you starts to piece together in your head that you didn’t go home last night, but instead fell asleep in the back office of the bar. “Jesus, hun. Again?” You whip your head to the direction of your boss, Eleanor, standing over your shoulder. Running your hands over your face and wiping the sleep out of your eyes, a yawn is the only thing that leaves you before any excuse even comes to mind. “At least you made it to the back this time.” She chuckles and shakes her head, collecting whatever she came back here for. 

“Sorry, El. Sorry. I was closing up last night and I-”

“You’re fine, kid. Just try not to make this a habit. Well… anymore than it already is.” She claps an assuring hand against your back. Eleanor’s been your support system for the last couple of years, almost like a mother figure since you lost yours. Hell, your job at El’s bar has practically been your entire life since you started working there years ago. Everyone here has become almost family to you, even some of the clientele. Which is morbidly ironic for you, all things considered. “You hoppin’ on to help? Because if I were you, I’d probably wait until tonight. We’re gonna be busy as shit.” 

It wasn’t uncommon for you to pick up shifts, sometimes even showing up to work off the clock. Just to help out. Just to be helpful. Was it probably illegal? Sure. Did you have a problem doing it? Not at all. There wasn’t a bone in your body that knew how to relax, take the day off. No matter how many times Eleanor would try to shoo you away to do so.

You tilt your head at her with slight confusion before taking a glance over at the perpetual calendar on the messy desk. “Oh. Friday night shift, yeah,” you mutter, mostly confirming with yourself. Time must really be escaping you lately, not even being aware of the days of the week. It’s been stressful. Especially with the anniversary coming up, you’ve been doing everything you possibly can to avoid your own thoughts.

She shakes her head, chuckling. An almost sly smile crosses her lips; a cat that swallowed the canary type of grin. “Not just that. There’s a big concert happening at the arena around the corner.” Her eyes narrow as if she’s testing you, clearly trying to garner some sort of reaction. You mirror her with an aura of confusion. “A homecoming concert…?” Whether it’s the brain fog from just waking up or simply not being in the loop, the discorded staredown continues. “Your buddies, those Greta boys! They’re back. Y’know, I’m awfully proud of them. My daughter’s actually a big fan...” 

Her tangent goes on, but it fades off while you process the information you’ve just been given. They’re… here? Sam and Danny, Josh and Jake are here? On top of the spiral of thoughts, your body reacts as well: stomach twisting in knots, heartbeat picking up, that tingling sensation in your limbs. You won’t even see them. You try to reassure yourself. There’s no way they’d come into this bar of all places. Rich, famous rock stars have better places to be, better things to do than trudge up the past. They probably wouldn’t even recognize you if they saw you. Would you even recognize them?

“(Y/N)?” El calls out your name, bringing you back to earth. With the slight shake of your head and a couple of blinks, you look back at her. “So are you hoppin’ on now or later?” A sigh escapes you while you wrestle with your options. You’re not even scheduled today. You could just go home… not that you want to be there either. You could hop on now and try to leave before the rush. Like an asshole. 

The chair beneath you screeches as you stand from it, bracing yourself against the desk. “I’m gonna grab something to eat first. I’ll… hop on when I get back, alright?” She gives you a wary smile and nod, letting you on your way. Practically storming out of the office, one of your coworkers catches you on your way out, just before reaching the door. Calling out your name in that shrill tone of hers, you debate even turning around. One hand already on the door, you whip your head around to respond, “What, Syd?”

Sydney’s the newest hire around here and as much as you hate to admit it, she’s basically already up to par with everyone else, both in skill and in relationships. Like the prettiest, daintiest little puzzle piece, she fits in perfectly. You’ve got no actual bad blood with her, but sometimes, you can’t hide your envy. She’s beautiful, she’s young, she’s great with people, the whole package. Unfortunately, she’s nice too. Her kindness blows every bitter feeling out of the water.

“Leaving already?” She asks, her head cocked to the side.

“Stepping out for food.” You push the door, ready to step out before she calls your name once more. You hide the roll of your eyes before turning to face her again. “Yes, Sydney?”

“Sorry, I could just ask you la-”

“Well, you’ve got my attention now. Go.” You hate being so stern, but she’s unfortunately caught you at a bad moment with the recent revelation that a whirlwind of history is performing around the corner from you. Your brow raises expectantly at her, waiting to finish her thought.

A sudden wave of nervous energy radiates from her which strikes you with guilt. “Right, yeah. Do you think you could cover part of my shift? Like twelve-ish onward? Only the last two hours, right?” Your face falls, for reasons unbeknownst to her, but she takes that as a cue to try to correct the situation. “It’s totally fine if you can’t. Or don’t want to. I get it. I just… I’ve been talking to this guy and he’s-”

“Yeah, I’ll take it.” Her smile’s uncontrollable and she’d probably shower you with praise and thanks if you hadn’t walked out as soon as those words passed your lips. You could’ve said no. You didn’t have to take her shift. Again, could’ve just left, but no. You never take the easy way out. As much as whatever feelings burn you up inside, you’d rather face it head on than be a coward.

Mindlessly walking to your favorite local eatery, a cacophony of screams and cheers cause you to stop where you stand. Right in front of the arena’s box office. A swarm of people seem to be clamoring around a general spot. Curiosity gets the better of you so you stick around, watching from a distance. The voices amongst the horde become clearer.

“Oh my god, Danny!”

“Sammy, hi!”

“I love you, Jake!”

A wry smile forms across your face. You can’t even help it. Luckily, the distance as well as the crowd block any view you might have had of the guys. Even luckier the same applies for them to you. It’s a funny situation that leaves you feeling empty. Only feet away stands a key to your past, a bittersweet trip down memory lane. The massive screen above the venue showcases tonight’s act. Greta Van Fleet. They’re bigger than ever, huh. They’ve grown, they’ve changed. You can barely recognize them. Especially the twins you once knew inside and out, who once knew you all the same. Taking a deep breath and one last passing glance at their ever adoring fans, you shove your hands into your pockets and keep walking on your way.

----------------------------------------------------

“A band?” You can’t hide the bewilderment in your voice as you sit straight up from Josh’s bed. “But what about all of your film stuff? You’re just dropping that?” The twins were always wrapped up in some musical endeavors, but to make it a main focus was completely out of left field for Josh especially with us graduating in a couple of years. His sights were already set on going to film school.

The bed shifts as he sits up beside you, completely unfazed by your shock. “Don’t think of it as dropping it. I’ll get back to it. Or I’ll do it simultaneously.” Before you could interject, he continues. “Jake has really big plans w-”

“And so do you, Josh.” Your brows furrow in his direction. 

“Sunny,” he speaks your nickname, loving but firm. His gentle hands find yours, interlocking fingers. “I know what I’m doing. I have a lifetime ahead of me to do everything I want to do. Right now, I want to help Jake do what he wants to do.” You sigh, knowing full well he won’t change his mind. You can see it in that determined glint in his eyes. Or maybe it’s the fact that both him and his brother are established stubborn asses. For better or worse. He lightens the mood with a hearty chuckle. “Hey, you get to be our number two biggest fan.”

“Who’s number one?”

Without missing a beat, you both come to the same conclusion. “Mom.” Karen Kiszka was the mother you never had. You were intertwined with the entire Kiszka family, but there were never ending pleasant things to say about Karen. She doted on you as well, treated you as if you were one of them. There were times you’d go to the Kiszka household to find the boys busy so you’d just spend time with her, helping around the house. It was a breath of fresh air compared to your home life.

“I could be your number one roadie, packing your shit up and following you guys around.”

Josh raises his brows with clear mischief. “Or our number one groupie?” The mere mention sets your cheeks aflame with blush. With a look of offense, you withdraw your hands from his to hit his shoulder. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” He raises his arm to block the weak attacks.  

“You’re disgusting, Joshua.”

“Hey, I was joking. I’m not interested in groupies. Jake, on the other hand…” You roll your eyes and groan, cringing at that thought. It’s not surprising though. The second Jake could think about girls without the fear of cooties, he was off to the races. He never concerned himself with you, but maybe that was just because you’d always been around. 

As if on cue, Jake comes barging into the room. His mouth opens to speak, but he’s swiftly cut off. “Do we not knock around here, brother?” Josh complains for the sake of complaining. Jake raises his brow as his eyes dart between the two of us.

“Is there a reason I should’ve knocked?”

You have no time to react as Josh wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. “Maybe I was spending one on one time with our number one groupie.” Laughing at his antics, you push him off of you and shake your head. Crossed arms as he leans against the doorframe, Jake simply watches our dispute. 

“Stop calling me that!” You snap at him with laughter in the midst before hopping out of the bed, standing beside Jake staring at his twin with a look of disapproval. “As you can probably tell, Josh let me know about your little band.”

“And?” He smirks, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Wanna join, sunshine?” You narrow your eyes at him as both boys snicker.

“I’d be no help there. I can’t even play anything.”

Josh gets up from the bed and heads towards us, stretching. “Jake’s teaching Sammy the bass. I’m sure he could teach you something too.” You lock eyes with Jake as his twin offers up his services. A silent exchange is made; Jake is willing to teach you and you shrug at the notion. It’s not a yes, not a no, but you’re definitely not joining a band. Josh pushes past the two of you, walking down the hall.

“Where’re you going?” Jake asks, “We’ve gotta practice. Sam just got back, let’s go.” Josh looks back and rolls his eyes at his brother. As the boys began to get together and set up, you simply lingered around, trying not to be in the way. You got a sudden feeling that you were intruding. A reassuring hand squeezes your shoulder. Jake speaks quietly, Josh and Sam clearly too distracted to hear what he was practically whispering to you. “You can stay and watch… if you want, sunshine. I know your dad’s-”

Before he could even finish, you nod frantically. “Yeah, yeah. Thank you.”

“Mom wouldn’t mind you staying the night. I know you say no everytime, but the offer’s out there.” One more squeeze before he lets go, returning to his brothers. You’d love to take the offer. If only you could.

----------------------------------------------------

Your lunch (that just so happens to be your first meal of the day) is quickly wrapped up by the fact that your stomach can barely settle to eat so after finishing what you can, you head back to El’s. The afternoon shift moves pretty swiftly into the evening where things quickly start to pick up. The usual Friday night crowd pours in, working everyone out, but once eleven rolls around, things get out of hand. A horde of very wild and very sparkly people flood into the building. A group you could only assume came from a certain nearby concert. With one deep breath to prepare yourself, you plaster on your very best customer service voice and smile. 

Drinks are flowing and service is booming. Transactions go well if not for the occasional nagging in the back of your mind when you hear the fans speak excitedly about Danny, Sam, Josh, and Jake. It’s another strange reminder of your circumstance, hearing them speak so casually about ghosts of your past. Even El, who knew about your connection, rarely spoke of them to you at all.

As you're finishing up a drink, you hear your name being called out over all the chatter. You turn to see Syd wiping her hands on a bar towel before approaching you. “I’m heading out. Are you sure you've got everything handled?” She asks, almost absentmindedly. Her eyes scan every patron in the bar. Ah, her date or whatever. Before you could give her the okay, you get pulled away to deal with another person. Order, drink, and payment; the transaction’s complete. Returning to Syd, you see her leaning over the bar, speaking directly into a guy’s ear. 

He looks a little shady if anything. A hat, sunglasses, and a hood… inside a bar. If that doesn’t scream suspicious. You nudge her and give her a polite thin lipped smile as you get closer. “You’re good to go.” The shady man turns to you and clearly gives you a once over. Creeps at the bar are common, but to see Syd about to leave with a guy like that causes a sense of worry to fill you. We’re all grown adults, but the least you could do is get some information on this dude. “Actually…” You face the man and extend your hand. “I’m (Y/N). Your name?” The second the two of you touch, you manage to get a closer look at him and deeply regret this whole interaction.

“(Y/N)? Like (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” His jaw goes ever so slightly slack as he scoffs in disbelief. “Holy shit. It’s-”

“Hi, Sammy.” You immediately withdraw your hand, nervously running it over your face. “Sorry, you two have a good night.” You gesture to both him and Syd, quickly turning away to return to your work. Hoping and praying that he takes the hint and leaves you alone, that Syd just somehow understands and takes him out of the bar, you try to keep a straight face as you talk to other bar goers. Honestly, he should leave for his sake too, drawing a crowd would be a terrible idea. Although, Sammy has always been one for terrible ideas. 

You hear your name being called out once more by the dreadfully familiar voice. Trying not to give him direct attention, you tend to someone around him. “(Y/N), I’ve gotta tell the guys you’re here. This is an insane coincidence,” he speaks out and whips out his phone.

Hunching over, you lean low to speak to him. “Sam, you should go, there’s a ton of your groupies here and I don’t want to have to play bodyguard, alright?” It felt bad to be so short with him, seeing how happy he is to see you, but you don’t have much of a choice here. Stuck behind the bar, you can’t really get away.

“When do you get out?” Not taking no for an answer here.

Sighing, you prepare yourself to be firm, ready to just kick him out when Syd chimes in from behind you, “Oh, she gets out at two.” So much for not having a reason to dislike her. “El would probably let you leave early if you asked.” The anger behind your eyes can barely be hidden.

“Eleanor’s still here? I should say hi to her,” Sam turns towards Syd with an expectant look. She nods and guides him out of sight, presumably to the back office. How well do they even know each other? How do they even know each other? More pressing matters plague your thoughts. The rest of the guys are going to know you’re here. Jake and Josh will know you’re here. Will they want to see you? They will, but why? They shouldn’t. They should just take their fancy instruments and go. Like last time. 

Your body goes on autopilot as you continue to make and serve drinks. You jump at the feeling of a hand on your shoulder. “Hun, I’ll take over,” El gives you a sweet smile. “You should go see your friends, (Y/N).” It’s a command disguised as a charitable gesture. How her eyes pour into yours, she’s begging you to go. “It’ll be good for you.” The seething child inside wants to lash out at her. What would she know, right? She can’t tell you what to do. But the memories swirling in your head and the empty feeling in your chest reminds you that she does know. She saw you at your worst. 

Weakly, you nod wiping your hands on your shirt before leaving from behind the bar to the back office, collecting your belongings. Sam and Syd seem like they were almost waiting for you outside the backdoor exit. You inhale and exhale, closing your eyes just for a moment. As you walk up to them, Sam’s beaming with excitement. He takes off his hood, hat, and sunglasses, finally allowing you to get a good look at him. Over half a decade since you’ve seen him, he’s really grown up. Long hair, longer than before at least. Facial hair, very unlike how baby faced he was when you last saw him. But the Kiszka blueprint was still there.

You let your guard down and give him a genuine smile. Let’s try this again. “Hi, Sammy.” He doesn’t even respond, simply pulling you into a tight hug. It practically knocks the wind out of you.

“I’m sorry I had to hound you at work, but Josh would’ve had my head if I saw you and just let you go.” Just Josh? You chuckle and nod, slinking out of his tight grasp. “You should’ve come to the show tonight, you could’ve messaged one of us or-”

“Yeah, I didn’t know.” A half truth. 

“Oh, our biggest fan didn’t know?” He teases, nudging you lightly. When you flatly laugh, a lull falls between you two. Between you three actually. Syd clears her throat, bringing all eyes on her. It’s as if you two forgot she was there. “We’re uh- actually headed to an afterparty of sorts. Everyone’s already there.” In an attempt to self soothe, you wrap your arms around yourself, fingertips pressing into your flesh. “You have to come with us. C’mon.” 

The urge to turn around and head back into the bar or reluctantly just go home is extremely intense, but then you recall the look in El’s eyes. “That’d be- yeah, sure.” You gaze down at yourself, looking less than presentable. “Is there a dress code or something?”

Sam drapes one arm over your shoulder and the other over Syd’s. “Nah, you’re fine.” He laughs as we all start walking away from the bar. “If anything, you could work the bar over there. That’s probably where you’ll find Jake, anyhow.” Jake and alcohol has always been a recipe for disaster in your experiences. Fun.

[aza-writes]

Revenge or Revolution

Chapter 1

• District 2 • Six Years Before the Revolution •

My calloused, tough fingers work fast as I braid the feathers around the fishing hook. I tell myself to make the wire tighter in my head before my mom says out loud a minute later.

"Tighter, Ivory! Or, do you not care about winning?" my breath gets caught in my throat. I hate when she uses that tone, it means she's disappointed. I hate disappointing her.

"Yes, mom. I'm sorry." I know better than to reply with anything else. I pull tighter before one wire slips from my finger, unraveling the whole thing.

"It's fine." Her tone shifts as she lets out a sigh. She's still disappointed,  but more subtle in showing it while accepting the fact that I still have areas to improve in. I feel worse now. "Just take a break. Go work on your flashcards."

"Yes, mom." I go into my room away from our "future Victor workstation." My mother came up with the idea when I was very little and I gave it to me as a birthday present for my fifth birthday. That was ten years ago. Ever since I've been training.

My mother has been very controlling with all my training and preparation aspects. She wasn't abusive in any way, she wasn't even mean. I felt love from both my mom and dad. They told me they loved me, but only when it was deserved or earned. It makes sense for love to be conditional, you wouldn't want to love an idiot loser who can't even give you something in return. There are many ways to earn love in my family, but most of them come with being the best at something like getting the best grade in the class or winning one of the many stupid contests they hold at school, and there are a lot. It's one of the many ways competitiveness and drive are instilled in kids in District 2. Not that I mind the competitions, they're mostly fun. They're also a way for me to win another medal or trophy for the case in our dining room. I fill with pride when my mom smiles and announces to our family, basically the whole neighborhood since she insisted the windows had to be open to "let in the fresh air," that she was the mom of a winner. 

And it wasn't that my mom was mad if we didn't win or if we came short in one of the many events or training exercises in a career district, she just added another thing on the list of things my sister, Clove, and I need to improve on. She doesn't do it because of reputation or anything, she was just concerned for my sister's and my future. Mostly mine since I'm older. And her efforts aren't in vain. Even at fifteen, I hold the title for the female with the highest ranking in the district, in all aspects. 

Bow and Arrow: Perfect Spear: Perfect Swords: Perfect Axe: Perfect Knife Handling: Beyond Perfection

Most people specialize in one or two things, but my mom insists I'm a "well-rounded tribute" because you never know what the arena will be like or what weapons will be available. It's also why she has us practice specialties of other districts. Climbing trees like Seven, fishing like Four, simple engineering like Three, and stuff like that. It's what allowed me to beat out all of the older students. If there was one thing they weren't good at, I could capitalize on it. 

It's also why my mom pushed on survival skills just as much as combat. "The poor districts may not be able to fight as well, but they are scrappy as hell. They know how to survive on nothing because they have nothing. So you have to outsmart them." Followed by this speech was an extensive lecture about every victor ever, how they won, and why they won. I've sat through that lecture so many times I'm able to pick up on the patterns of each district. One and Two are similar in how they are the strongest in combat, but Two is better with a variety of weapons instead of just one or two. Three was brains, Four always had something to do with water, and Seven was best with close combat. The rest are a scramble of dumb luck since there weren't many victors from those districts. A lot of them only have one or two victors of each gender that are still alive. 

Even now as I study my flashcards I'm learning about the other districts. My flashcards include plants from every district and every region of Panem where the games could potentially happen. I look at the many plants, roots, and barks and name what it is, their identifying features, and how they can be utilized. Eat, poison, medicine. And if it's poison or medicine I have to then state how it would help or hurt someone. I got these flashcards on my fifth birthday along with the "victor station."

I don't know why my mom makes me go through these flashcards, it's been months since I got one wrong. And I only got it wrong because it was one of the new ones added. 

I toss the deck to the side of the bed as I look at the clock on my desk. 4:45. Clove should be finishing up her training soon. If my training is enough to get me in the games, then Clove won't have to go through all of this. Mom will have her victor, she might let Clove stay good enough to earn respect amongst the District, but not high enough to have her be chosen to volunteer. As much as it is an honor to be chosen to volunteer and win the games, in the end, you're still killing people. 

I go through some of my other decks of flashcards for another fifteen-ish minutes. Identifying soil, matching the bite to the bug then the treatment, and other simple survival trivia that I can't learn firsthand in District Two.

Tap... Tap Tap... Tap Tap Tap... Tap Tap... Tap

Right on time. 

Clove's signature knock echoes from my door, indicating mom gave her approval for her to be done with training for the day. She knocks this way to politely ask if I'm in training or not. Instead of walking into my room and risking interrupting me. I don't know why she started it or even when, but it's been our tradition as long as I can remember. A smile grows on my face, excited I finally get to spend more than a few minutes with her. 

"Come in, Clove." My door opens, Clove peaks in with a small smile on her face. 

"Has Mom dismissed you yet?" Her voice is in almost a whisper, worried she's interrupting me. Even though she did her knock and I gave her verbal confirmation to come in, she still asks. 

I nod my head, even though Mom hasn't come into my room and officially declared it yet, but it's the time she usually would come in. "Yes ma'am, I'm all done." In a millisecond she comes in and hops on my bed next to me. 

Fragments of her uniform are still on, just not as prestige as it was at the beginning of the day. Her shoes, tie, and jacket are off, and her school dress pants have been replaced with softer trousers. The only thing that remains the same from the morning is her hair up and her collared frilly tank top that the younger grades wear, reminding me of her short time between the end of the school day and training. Since I'm older and it's a more formal part of my day, I have designated time to train, but for her, she goes directly from school to a private trainer. Most kids don't start practicing until they turn ten, sometimes they wait until they're twelve. Like me, Clove started her training when she turned five and started weapon and then combat training two years ago when she turned eight. Our training has been almost identical, starting with practice weapons and survival skills starting at five, then combat training beginning when we turned eight. Although we were trained in all weapons, there was an emphasis on knife handling. It was a long and short-distance weapon that provided an extra level of protection. 

Clove sits right next to me on my bed, our shoulders touching. "How was your day?" Her voice is soft. Well, as soft as hers can be. She isn't annoyingly loud, but she isn't weak by any standards. She is confident in herself and her abilities. She's the smallest girl in her grade but she scores higher than them in every aspect. I hope this doesn't mean anything though, that my training is enough for me to gain the win for our family and she can slow down her training. Maybe she can even enjoy her childhood without thinking of how every second she isn't training, she is failing our parents. 

"My day was good. School is school. Training is training." She leans her head on my shoulder and I rest my head on hers. I'm not a fan of any kind of physical touch, but I like Clove's. Her's was comforting. "How was yours?"

Her hands reach for mine. "It was good. I got the highest grade on my history test." 

"Atta girl." 

She smiles softly, relishing in the praise. "Thanks." She sits up and looks at me. I can't make out her expression. It's worrying but also very matter-of-fact. "Mom was mumbling to herself at the victors station. What happened?"

I meet her gaze, a small smirk appears on my face. "I can't make a fishhook." I giggle a bit, trying to make her not nervous. Anytime I'm not doing something perfect, Clove worries. I get it. I have high expectations this year. Not just my family, but the whole district. If I won these games I would get the title of "Youngest Female Victor" ever, giving another "only," "ever," or "first" victor to add to their collection. It's still hard for my district to talk about the 65th Games. Saying it's not fair that the youngest victor is from District 4. They might be able to tolerate District 1, but 4 is unacceptable. Me winning might start a chain reaction of children training at the age of five, producing younger and younger victors. 

Clove's eyes search mine, trying to see if I'm worried or not and if she should be worried too. "But you'll get it, right?" She sounds like mom. So much like mom. 

"I'll get it. Besides, it's not something I 'need' to know."

"Don't say that. You need to know everything so you get in. So you win." Her voice is earnest, stressed. As many people come home to District 2, there are even more that don't.

"Trust me, I'll be okay. And if I need to fish I'll use a spear or something." I snuggle into her, trying to calm her nerves but she is as stiff as a board. Even my reassuring words aren't fixing her anxiety, but I know what will. "Clove?" a mischievous smile grows on my face, " Do you want to grab the nail polish?" 

Her eyes immediately light up and she runs into her room. I hate the feeling of nail polish, but Clove is still at the age where she likes to do girly things. Mom might also like it, an added bit of "flair" for the cameras when I get reaped. Making my stylist appreciate me more thinking "she'll be so easy to work with." 

My life has been planned around these stylist, stylists I don't even know. My mom crafted my appearance around them. She had me grow my hair out so if they want to cut it they can. I keep my skin as clean as possible so it will be easier for them to do makeup. My whole life revolves around the games. 

Clove comes back holding a large, dark red box. "Can I do yours first?" Her smile is wide, we finally have sister time that doesn't revolve around training. Time to relax. 

••••••

Series Masterlist

[siriannatan]

Tale of Two Champions - ScfWhip

I honestly had similar stories in this au' circling my brain for months, but I finally got to it, yay.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55722241

fWhip tired every excuse he had in his sleeves but there was no reasoning with Gem. “Come on sis, I'll be fine, like literally no one ever recognises me…” he did still try though. Gem might be impossible to convince but fWhip could argue with her the whole day long.

“No,” she said sternly as she turned to poke her finger onto his chest. “You'll listen, and you'll stay with Scott until me and Jimmy catch whoever's targeting the former arena champions,” she could be pretty scary if she wanted to.

“Come on Gem, I can take care of myself, I don't need some pompous prick looking after me,” fWhip rolled his eyes. This was getting ridiculous in his eyes.

“He's not looking after you, he's the current champion, therefore also a potential target. Both of you are under constant watch,” Gem finally seemed to see fit to say he'd be stuck with the person who probably liked him less than the killer did. “I'll sooner eat my hat than let anything happen to you,” she finished with one last poke and marched on. fWhip had no excuse to not follow. He could just hope the killer would be caught quickly.

“Why are you hiding us at the arena? Wouldn't whoever's looking for Scott just come right here?” fWhip questioned, hoping Scott wasn't there yet.

“Wouldn't whoever's looking for you two assume we hid you away from the arena? Besides, it's just the meeting spot and I wasn't the one who came up with it,” Gem's response didn't feel fWhip with confidence in Council’s decision making process.

Seeing Jimmy, his freaking ex, member of the council, head of law enforcement, talking to Scott. Whom fWhip only knew from TV and posters. Had his confidence sinking even lower. Of course he had to have been dragged out from work, in very casual clothes, when he had to meet Jimmy for the first time since the break up.

And not to mention Scott was like the walking image of the perfect champion. With his perfect form fitting trousers. Did they have to be so tight? Thigh high boots. Why the heel? You're tall enough you pompous prick, fWhip thought as he eyed his successor. The perfectly fitted blazer and stupidly perfect, soft looking bar. And his stupidly perfect, handsome face?

Next to him fWhip looked like some vagrant. With his heavy boots and loose jeans with more holes than they had when he brought them. Not to mention the old tank top and how messy his hair was. Not that it was ever properly styled for more than five minutes. All in varying shades of black and dark red. Well, save for his cyan hoodie that painfully matched Scott's hair. Sleeves rolled up even if it was barely hanging on around his elbows, exposing the shimmering tattoos on his arms. And he had his glasses on and likely looked low-key like a bit of a nerd. Which he was but it didn't mean he wanted to look too much like one.

And of course Gem instantly started talking to Jimmy about how to best get them to the hiding spot they prepared. Leaving fWhip to awkwardly stand next to Scott. Whose unfair tallness was even more apparent up close.

“So you are still alive,” Scott huffed with what had to be disdain in his voice.

“What? Disappointed you didn't win the title from me?” fWhip bit back, doing his best to match vitriol Scott spoke with even if he personally didn really care how Scott felt about him just stepping down with no fight.

“Maybe at the start I was, but now I don't really care,” Scott seemed to shrug and fWhip just tensed a bit more, kind of ready for a fight.

“That's good because I'm not fighting anyone, ever again,” he huffed just to have the last word. And thanks to Gem and Jimmy moving in to explain their elaborate plan he did.

The plan was that four cars with Council agents disgusted with illusions to look like them would leave first. With a car with real them leaving a bit later. Scott and fWhip just nodded as Jimmy spoke. Then they would be practically on house arrest in a secret safe house somewhere in the city.

“And how long are we expected to stay there?” Scott asked what fWhip was thinking.

“Until we catch the guy,” Jimmy's answer only had fWhip groan in annoyance.

“Come on Jim, some of us have actual jobs they have to go to,” he grumbled. He didn't really believe this was the first thing he said to Jimmy since.

“We informed your job you'll be unavailable for the foreseeable future, they agreed to mark it as a vacation without taking any of your days off away,” of course Gem had an explanation for everything.

fWhip just huffed out an annoyed puff of smoke. Perks of fire magic. You can breathe smoke at anyone who annoys you. Like a twin sister or ex boyfriend. Or icy, pompous prick. “Let's just get this over with then,” he grumbled.

Jimmy and Gem then left to coordinate the decoys and fWhip was left alone with Scott. And several guards who were probably there to make sure they didn't run away.

“They probably don't have a plan in case the killer finds us anyway,” Scott said in a hushed tone. At least he looked a bit worried.

“Knowing Jim? Absolutely,” fWhip huffed. “I guess we can try to knock them out or something,” he shrugged.

“I was about to say you better stick close to me in case it happens,” Scott rolled his eyes.

“Why? I can protect myself.”

“Didn't you say you didn't want to fight anyone ever again?” Scott's expression was too serious for fWhip to even attempt reading it as a dig at him. Bastard was totally serious. And it was pretty nice of him to offer.

“Well, I'll fight if my life depends on it, duh,” he rolle dnia eyes but quickly added, “but I appreciate the thought,” to not look like a complete jerk. It wasn't Scott's fault Gem and Jimmy decided to get them stuck together.

They spend the rest of the wait awkwardly standing there in silence. fWhip holding onto his bad. Scott just standing like an ice statue.

The drive wasn't any more exciting. Just the silent in the back seat as he agents drove. They weren't even playing the radio so talk about awkward silence.

The safehouse was a pretty nice suburban home with tall fence and electric gate.

“Leave the key in the car, remote for gate and garage too,in case we have to get away quickly,” Scott told the agents. They tried to argue but fWhip backe dthe idea up. At least the two of them had some braincells in this whole operation.

The rest of the day was pretty boring. There was no TV in the house. No radio. No internet. They were not allowed to turn their phones on since they turned them off at the arena. At least there were cards and board games so they had something to do until it was time to sleep. fWhip really hoped Gem and Jimmy would catch the killer soon. He was going to go crazy if he had to keep this up for too long.

At least Scott seemed to be equally bored and annoyed by the time they separated to get ready for bed. Annoyingly enough, no one thought to get them a change of clothes. Scott had to be real comfy in his outfit, fWhip thought. He himself was totally fine sleeping in his jeans. In case anyone attacked at night.

He was almost sleep when someone sneaked into his room. “Off the bed, stay low and quiet,” Scott whispered as he shook fWhip. “I think we've been found. I heard commotion, and new voices,” he explained as fWhip follows his instructions, dragging his bag with him.

“Think we can't get to the car?” fWhip asked, focusing his hearing. He heard nothing. Scott's room was closer to the front of he house.

“Can you drive?” Scott asked back.

“Yes. You don't?”

“Everyone was pushing me to focus on magic training,” Scott sighed. “If we get out of here alive I'll go and learn, we need to move,” he hissed, pulling fWhip to the window. There were barley audible footsteps outside the door

Scott seemed to have it all figured out as he left his window open. So they could sneak back in. They assumed whoever the intruders were already searched that room. And they were right. The door just closed as they dared sneak in.

They waited a bit by the door listening for footsteps, ready to fight. But no one came in. When they heard doors open and close the peeked out. Clear. So they quickly and quietly made their way to garage.

“Once we're out turn my phone out and call Gem,” fWhip said tossing his back in Scott's lap. Garage door and front gate already opening as h started the car. He didn't really have time to bother with seatbelts at the moment.

“Got it,” Scott nodded. “Head down,” he added as he started looking for fWhip's phone.

fWhip ducked enoug to still see the road and drove them out quietly, as to not alarm anyone in the house. Idiots didn't leave anyone outside.

“She's ‘twinny’ in my contacts,” fWhip said without Scott needing to ask.

Scott nodded and called Gem. No answer. Was she in trouble too? Did someone mess with the signal? “What now?” Scott grumbled, looking back. Yup, they were being pursued already.

“The arena? At least there's space there, just in case, keep trying to call her,” fWhip sighed. Of course they couldn't contact help.

The arena looked creepy at night. “To the center,” fWhip said, ready to be exhausted and in a lot of pain the next day. He hated physical exercise.

Which was clear when he started running out of breath about halfway. Scott just grumbles something and the next second fWhip was over his shoulder, carried like a sack of potatoes. “Oi, I'm not that tired,” fWhip huffed but his lungs were saying otherwise. He was not getting out of bed tomorrow.

“Shut up and tell me if they're getting too close,” Scott huffed and ran possibly even faster than before. Was fWhip's lack of condition holding him back? Show off.

The arena center instantly illuminated as soon as they walked in. “Well well well, council really saved us some work putting both the last and present champions together,” a voice laughed as fWhip tried to recall how to breathe once sat in the sand.

“And you are?” Scott called out, ice covering the door they got in through. And generally covering them as a shield from any potential attacks from outside the arena.

The person didn't seem to like it. “You insolent little… No. It doesn't matter if you know, you'll both die tonight anyway, and tomorrow I'll be the champion,” they cackled as fWhip and Scott exchanged stares and shrugs.

“Can't you just challenge me normally?” Scott asked and fWhip instantly knew what he was doing. Buying time. So fWhip hid as much as he could behind him and tried sending a text to Gem. It got through. ‘Been got, at the arenaz whole organization, Scott's distracting the leader’ he sent, once he knew it would work. Now they had to just wait.

“What? You think you can win against me? You'll freeze before you can,” the man in charge scoffed.

“I don't think he will,” fWhip grinned and snapped his fingers. Instantly the outer edge of the arena burst in flames. He was starting to get chilly from Scott's ice surrounding them anyway. “Go crazy,” he chuckled, patting Scott's back.

And go crazy Scott did. The few times fWhip saw him fight, even if just on the TV at the tattoo shop he worked at now, he didn't see Scott pull out maneuvers and spells this crazy. It was honestly pretty impressive. But it also meant he had to put effort into keeping the flames going.

At the end of the fight, when the leader got knocked out Scott still had some frost on his hands and face and his breath came out with puffs of cold.

And it would seem Gem got everyone into gear as fast as she could and every member of the mysterious organization present got caught.

“You okay?” fWhip asked, sitting next to Scott. Gem and Jimmy had everything else handled now.

“I think so,” Scott nodded with a clearly forced smile. “Could use a blanked,” he joked, that fWhip knew. But he still cradled his stupidly pretty face in his hands. Melting the ice build up on there

“No you're not, you're bleeding,” fWhip sighed and used a trick not even Gem knew he had. Long time ago he figured out he could heal small scrapes with his flames. And used it now on Scott. “Not a word to anyone,” he grinned, not mentioning Scott's hands coming up to lay on his as he still held ice pricks face.

“Fine, but I'm buying you coffee tomorrow, it'd be a much more troublesome fight without you here,” Scott countered with a genuine smile.

“Uhum, I hate to break the moment but I'll need you two to get up and see the medics,” Gem interrupted, arms crossed over her chest. She might have looked annoyed but fWhip knew she was glad they were fine.

“Yeah yeah,” fWhip sighed and got up, and offered a hand to Scott but he didn't need it, already up before fWhip. He just rolled his eyes and dutifully went to see the medics even if he was totally fine.

Medics didn't hold them long, quickly declaring them good to go home. At least some good news. Now, how does he get home at this hour…

“My place isn't too far and I have a free guest bedroom if you don't feel like being alone after all that,” Scott offered as fWhip wondered how to get to his apartment. “And I can add breakfast to that coffee,” he added with the most awkward smile fWhip ever saw.

“You know what, sure, it'd be a pain for me to get to my place anyway,” fWhip shrugged and once Jimmy cleared them as free to leave the scene. They walked to Scott's.

It was indeed not at all far away. And pretty cozy for a high rise, luxury apartment. The guest bed was damn comfy too. Not that fWhip could sleep at all. Even after a shower and changing into comfier clothes Scott lent him he kept tossing and turning as his brain wondered what would happen if Scott didn't come for him.

“Damn it,” fWhip muttered and decided Scott probably wouldn't mind if he makes himself some tea.

To his shock Scott was already in the kitchen, sipping on some tea. Looking exhausted. “Can't sleep too?” He asked with a weak smile.

fWhip nodded. “Can't stop my brain from thinking,” he sighed and glanced at the kitchen.

“Go for it,” Scott nodded and yawned.

fWhip thought for a second and decided that it was too late for tea. “I have a better idea if you're willing to listen,” he offered. Scott nodded so he continued. “We can just sleep in one bed, might calm our brains to have someone else there, but feel free to refuse I won't be offended,” he quickly rambled out.

Scott blinked a few times as he processed what fWhip had just said. Then he looked at his tea, grimaced and nodded. “We can at least try,” he agreed.

In all honesty, until they were together in Scott's bed fWhip didn't really process that sharing a bed entailed them both being in it. At once. And that Scott only had shorts and a t-shirt on, same as fWhip. But once the initial shock passed it was shockingly easy to fall asleep like that. Staring at Scott's face. It was really nice up close, okay.

fWhip woke up, mildly confused, with something cold touching him. Cracking one eye open he got met with a mess of cyan hair. Scott, his brain supplied as he remembered last night. The current magic arena champion, his successor even if they never fought each other, was cuddling up to fWhip. They were in his bed. Some crazy group tried killing them last night.

Who would have thought the ice prince would be cuddly in the morning, fWhip smiled to himself as he just let Scott cuddle him. Who knew if he ever got a chance to share a bed with Scott again.

Not that he got a long time with the cuddles. Scott soon started to stir awake and abruptly sat up once he realized he was cuddling fWhip and not his mass of pillows of varying sizes and shapes.

“Morning,” fWhip yawned, stretching slightly but did not even try to get up.

Scott looked at him with wide eyes. “Morning,” he said, whole face red in embarrassment. “I should have mentioned I can get grabby…” he sighed.

“Don't worry about it, I don't mind,” fWhip waved it off.

That didn't seem to convince Scott. “We should go get breakfast…” he muttered and fWhip sighed.

“Or it can wait and you can cuddle more if you want, I really don't mind he offered with a grin. Scott was absolutely adorable when not putting up the champion persona.

“Really?” He asked and fWhip nodde. In like two seconds Scott was once more cuddled up to him. “You're warm…” he sighed.

“Yeah, I know,” fWhip nodded. Mission success he thought.

In the end neither of them felt like cooking so they went out for brunch. It was a bit late to call it breakfast. Scott took them to a place that, in his words, had best blueberry pancakes in town. Couple bites in fWhip was inclined to agree.

Or maybe he was enjoying spending time with Scott when he wasn't dressed as champion but instead in baby blue cardigan, beige slacks and tenis shoes. Who knew. He'd have to come by couple more times to really decide. Coffee was pretty good too.

“So what now? We just go back to living like we used to?” Scott asked, poking his pancakes with a fork.

fWhip shrugged. “I certainly wouldn't mind having pancakes with you again,” he grinned, hoping he read Scott's intentions correctly. “Or cuddling again,” he added as Scott blushes a little, making him blush harder.

“That would be amazing,” Scott nodded with the cutest smile ever.

fWhip was about to offer they exchange numbers when, “aren't you two adorable?” Gem was suddenly next to their table. “Media will certainly love you two going out more.”

“Any news of what that organisation was?” fWhip ak

Sked to move the topic off of personal topics.

“No clue, they all suddenly died while in police custody, but that's Jimmy's problem. He's gonna be so salty his exes got together while he struggles to try asking Tango out for coffee,” she grinned and fWhip groaned. Of course.

“You and Jimmy? Wow,” Scott whistled.

“Ditto,” fWhip rolled his eyes but could see what Scott meant. fWhip never looked like someone who'd date a cop.

“I'll leave you two to your flirting, but next time let me know before gossip radio channels do, okay?” Gem sighed and left with a wave.

Scott groaned. fWhip just nodded. Media was one of the top reasons he quit being the champion. “Media's why I don't hate you for just stepping down,” Scott explained with a deep sigh.

fWhip hummed and passed his phone to Scott. “Put your number in and maybe I'll agree to a friendly spar. But only because it's you,” he grinned. Scott instantly perked up at that.

[kafkaoftherubble]

做工前，聊一下JJK 245

This rambling is about Chapter 245 of the Jujutsu Kaisen manga!

Anime only, please turn away and feast your eyes on Itadori's Goat Moment (more like a Pyrrhic victory, damn) instead!

Yea, this chapter ain't doing it for me.

There's this faction in r/Jujutsushi that thinks most of a reader's criticism against C245 is because of how Confiscation ultimately worked. Instead of taking away Sukuna's Cursed Technique, it takes away his cursed tool (christened "Dumbell Maracas" by me) and leaves Sukuna's techniques and CE intact. Our heroes seemed to have not gained any purchase.

Then people, like the dude in the link above, would explain that this is literally how Confiscation should work in the real world, i.e. "taking away possessions such as guns." This KLReviews fella summed it up really well: "He (Sukuna) can pay his fines so the Judge charges him."

After ghost-reading Reddit for a bit, I've come to expect this emerging pattern every time after a rebuttal-against-criticism post like this one: a certain subset of people begin to believe that all critics have only one "actual" argument against the chapter—and the rest are just their emotions and biases talking. This time, the Actual Argument, in their mind, is "the problem with Confiscation." Then, with a rebuttal like this post existing, critics of C245 now somehow lose ground and can only rant more or less from being butthurt over their feelings or unrealized headcanons.

But really, what if our criticisms aren't centered on the blueballing of Confiscation?

I was really excited to see C244 be devoted to the gang trying to workshop a plan based on Japanese laws so that their capricious Judge Shinigami could mete out the best sentences for their advantage. The previous chapters had been balls-to-the-walls insane—to me, the chapters recalled Stephen Chow's "Mo Le Tau" style comedy I'd grown up on. I'm sure the Japanese reader and others will be reminded of their own familiar kinds of comedy styles—and even managed to give us insights into Takaba's psyche.

With C244, I was really getting ready to see the battle becoming a (brief?) legal procedural drama where it became a bit of a showdown of wits between Sukuna, Itadori, and Higuruma. What defense will Sukuna shore up? What critical hits will Higgy bring up?

I was so ready that I haunted my amazing ass friend who dabbles in law and pestered them to give me a crash course or an essay about things. Man, I learned quite a lot just from the conversation at the tail of C244.

Sukuna was always told to be this genius chessmaster with high IQ and whatnot, so pitting him in a courtroom drama and watching him quickly learn the ropes would have been the best show-not-tell ever. And yes! A little insight into Sukuna's backstory would be a great bonus. I'm not badgering Gege over that, but I know a lot of others care a ton about this for good reasons.

And if his Cleave and Dismantle were Confiscated, well, we would be able to see how good Sukuna throws down with pure Cursed Energy + Cursed Tool (that Dumbell Maracas) and, of course, his "⬛: Open" secret technique. However, this is again, beside the point.

I really wanted to see Sukuna show his chops in an arena beyond fighting, even if just a bit. And I thought it was the best arena for our protagonists to even the odds, too.

But no. Sukuna just went I AM BORED "Skip Ad" and then the verdict and then hooray, his Dumbell Maracas was the one Confiscated and he had his CT and CE intact. Don't worry; I'm sure Sukuna will win and get his confiscated tool back, too. It's literally in his contract that he cannot lose—it's like Steven Seagal, but way less pathetic.

Someone even had the audacity to say that this """proves""" Sukuna is "very high intelligent" because he "predicted" he's gonna face Higgy and so had this Dumbell Maracas at the ready to thwart Higgy's domain. Bruh. Can brain cells also be pulled out of an ass?

Because this specific show of intelligence is also kinda... ass-pully. Why would Sukuna know this would happen if Higgy himself didn't, and that this had never happened before in Higgy's Domain Expansion career? It's as if Sukuna had read the script and had a hand in its writing while everyone is at the mercy of Gege's chef skills. You know, the way we readers are, too.

I couldn't find this^ comment in that Reddit post now. It's probably nestled too deep in some of the threads.

I really don't mind Sukuna winning the court case in Higgy's Domain; most of us predicted that. Again, Sukuna Seagal. It's the process. The meat of the writing is in the process and Gege flunked that one with yet another instance of lazy writing. Come now! Takaba vs. Kenjaku was really good. I thought it signaled a momentum. It didn't.

C245 disappointed me for what I see as yet another case of "lazy writing" masquerading as "ineffable maverick subverting expectations while "clearly" setting up the twist at the beginning."

Yea, no. I'm not convinced. I translated enough hack novels and logic-challenged self-indulgent power fantasies as my work, that I can kinda catch what lazy writing looks like. This fits the bill.

Last thought: I honestly don't know why some people are so allergic to criticismS against a cherished author. CriticismSSSS. With plural. Lest one somehow believed it was "just one valid criticism (which I then rebutted!) and the rest are all dudes melting and seething". Also, hey, I'm not abandoning the JJK ship. I like the stuff. I can feel disappointment and dismay precisely because I like this stuff. It happens. You sometimes don't love everything about this thing.

Thank you for reading my ramble.

------ ----- --------

Links in this rambling, in order of appearance, will take you to:

r/Jujutsushi - "Catered, in-depth, text-based manga discussion of the series Jujutsu Kaisen by Gege Akutami. "

comedytradeschool.com - "MASTERING THE ART OF COMEDY: UNRAVELING THE GENIUS OF STEPHEN CHOW’S NONSENSE HUMOR." It divulges a bit on this style of comedy.

An additional entry to understand "Mo Le Tau" is in Wikipedia.

--------

Tagging @karasukarei because this is the rant I have been holding up, but I waited for the official chapter to drop before going off anyway 😂. For specifics we discuss in Discord hahaha EVEN THOUGH I SHOULD BE WORKING

[bohemian-nights]

Favorite AU for Dettles?

Oh gosh, there are honestly so many great au ideas for them. I think my opinion on this fluctuates depending on my mood.

Right now though, because of the Hunger Games resurgence, I really like the idea of mentor Daemon with mentee Nettles.

Like, imagine he’s a bit disheartened by life in general. year after year seeing his mentees die takes its toll.

To top it off, he pulled some trick like Haymitch to win his games which landed him on the president's naughty list. His entire family(including his wife who was pregnant at the time) was murdered as a result. He’s pretty much checked out and self-medicating at this point.

Then Nettles games come along. Just by looking at her, he’s like She’s gonna die within the first couple of minutes if not by the end of the first day. She’s small for her age and clearly malnourished. She’s an orphan, a social pariah(lol she made an enemy which is why she got reaped in the first place), and she’s been crying ever since she’s gotten on the train to the capital.

Lol, the fact that Nettles’ story is already suited for the Hunger Games💀

Her male counterpart(Addam of Hull or Jace who is book!Jace not the wimpy show version) shows some promise. However, he's also very self-sacrificing. Daemon can easily see him trying to help out one of the weaker tributes early on in the games(like Nettles) and losing his life because of it.

He knows they both won’t last long. The career pack is going to make a meal of them if nothing else so why even bother with them?

The career pack includes Ulf and Hugh 🤣 Let’s just say they aren’t the smartest career pack which is partially why Nettles is able to win her games😏 I mean she has some skills, but they made it easier for her.

Addam(or Jace, IDK pick your poison) tries to interact with him and pick his brain, but he’s totally non-receptive. He’s rude and crass. He smells of booze and he keeps bringing up how they are going to die.

Addam: How do we get sponsors?

Daemon: You won’t need sponsors, you’ll be dead from helping her out(points to a crying Nettles who has almost reached her breaking point). There is no we in the arena. That was your first mistake.

Addam: 💀

Nettles:😭😡 I’m not dead yet you drunk🤬

By this point, Nettles has had enough. She understands that she’s not in the best shape. She knows what will happen if she can’t pull herself together. She understands that out of the twenty-four children reaped only one is walking out of there alive.

She knows she’s probably on the lower end of the pack and even though Addam admittedly has better odds than her he is unlikely to win, but she doesn’t want to die. She certainly doesn’t want to die without a fight.

While Daemon is in mid-rant telling Addam all the ways the careers can and will kill them she picks up a knife at her side.

It’s a small thing. A butter knife really. It won’t do much damage, but she doesn’t want it to do damage. She just wants him to stop it and be their mentor, and not see them just see them as if they were already buried six feet under.

So she chucks the knife at his head.

The knife ends up grazing his ear before sticking into the door behind him. A nearby avox flinches. Even Addam is freaking out when Daemon moves his hand up to his ear and pulls it back to reveal a bit of blood on his fingertips.

Nettles is too busy yelling at him to stop attacking like their lives mean nothing to really feel any fear, but he interrupts her when he starts laughing.

He looks her square in the eyes(she almost wants to look away but she holds her ground) and tells her that she needs to work on her aim. She tells him that her aim was fine and that if she meant to hurt him she would’ve aimed for something more vital which only causes him to laugh some more.

They both know that it’s a lie. Nettles did mean to get his attention, but she had not been aiming for him.

It’s not until then that he actually takes notice of her.

Nettles is very small. She needs to get some meat on her bones(he almost immediately starts pilling onto her plate food and telling her to eat). She could surely use some dressing up and training, but she’s not hopeless. She’s got gumption which is more than the tributes before her had.

It’s then that he realizes that the little runt girl just might make it out of this thing alive.

[surskip]

lately ive been going through my bookshelf so I can eventually sort it out, and most recently ive been reading the hunger games the past couple days. i just started the last one. apparently there’s a new one that just came out? wow.. i remembered liking the books a lot when the movies were coming out (though i was a staunch The books were better.. movie hater at the time) and they’re fine. like a 6.5-7/10. so far all of them are pretty top heavy, in the sense that the first half is by far the best and then it has too many ideas and not enough time to flesh any of them out so everything gets explained really fast and then the book ends. ​the arenas aren’t really that compelling to me either. the books are alright but i am out of the age range for sure. i want to get through all the books i remembered being so invested in as an 11 year old so i can look upon them now with my Old Elderly Brain. and then i will read the good stuff ive been putting off… it’s fun to read stuff and feel the echoes of emotions you felt so heavily then but not so much now. And then you go That’s not how cpr works. Tch… and the spell goes away for a while

[brokenonyxestate]

DRESSAGE TRAINING IN THE WRONG GEAR

CALYPSO'S POV

If you are a little observant you will see that in this picture, and the many after this one, that I am wearing the wrong kind of tack for basic Dressage training, and so are Thor. Case is that our dressage tack is in for a cleaning, and normally I would do it myself, but my younger siblings Athena and Ares are in this competitive streak, and has made a competition out of who can maintain the leather and assemble tack the fastest - so who am I to say no to less work?

Anyways, so I took BOE Kalliope out alongside Thor and his horse for the day Sparrow's Dandelion. Kalliope enjoyed actually having the summerheat graze her coat, as we have had rain the last many days, so sweating a little did us both a lot of good.

When we came out there, Ma was out there too with little baby Kaida (BOE Solomeus x SC Keep the Faith). She is ready for some training from the ground, such as being lead around, move for pressure and moving backwards.

Dandy was very frisky today, but Thor handled her well as usual. I am always impressed with how Mom and Ma manage to find such excellent riders. One thing is being skilled at Dressage or Show Jumping, another is to have a good heart and being skilled at communicating with your horse. I think the last one is more important than skills in a few disciplines though.

While letting Kallie cool down a little in a slower walk (man, it was hot!), I watched as Ma trained the young Kaida. As always she was calm and collected, so different from Mom, who was slightly more well... she clearly has a temper, but of course never herself get irritated at the horse. She instead turns it inwards, and gets angry with herself - never ever the horse she is training.

And as HEC Sophie's Amber Eyes, aka. Amber Mom/Feline's private horse, will be ready for retirement soon, she is kinda jumpy about everything. She hates retiring a private horse, but as Amber has been pregnant the last few months maybe the change will be better for her. I worry about her though. Maybe it was better if she had another private horse, so she didn't have to say goodbye to an old one, to train an new one from the bottom up?

Anyways, we were finished with today's training, finishing with a glorious halt, Kallie standing squarely and surely on all four hooves. She is probably more of a Dressage horse than a Show Jumper, but Ma entrusted me with training her, and that's what I will do. It's pretty clear what the mare prefers though, even if she of course will jump too, if you ask her nicely.

"Hey Thor, do you think Feline will be okay? With her retiring Amber soon, I mean? Because it's not even for sure, if Amber's baby foal will be a horse for Ma," I said, as I worriedly scratched at Kallie's neck as a way to calm and ground myself.

"Well," the normally quiet man said, after all he has been a part of the stable family for awhile now, "I am sure she will be fine-"

I was trying to interrupt him, but he added a:

"-BUT I understand that you are worried for her. After all, when she said goodbye to Tallboy years back she was heartbroken. The dead of him was so sudden. This time she lets go of Amber on her own terms, and the mare will be in the pasture just down the road, if Feline needs her," he smiled kindly.

"I know, it's just... I worry for her sometimes. She is not exactly taking loss that well in general. And what if Amber doesn't make it through the birth of her foal? Mom will be heartbroken yet again," I wondered out loud, hoping that Ma couldn't hear us from the training arena as we passed it, while letting the mares walk to cool down.

"So that is why it took Hera so long to convince her to breed Amber!" It seemed as if a light turned on in Thor's brain just like that.

"Yeah, that's probably the real reason, even if Mom would postulate for a long time that it just wasn't the right time for her yet," I mussed, and shook my head with a short laugh, "Anyways, I really think Mom should get another horse, before Amber retires completely. So she doesn't have to be in this weird non-riding limbo for too long. Maybe even right away."

"You are probably right. I'll tell the other staff members to keep their eyes open for a calm horse with a good heart for Feline," he nodded in agreement.

"Especially bc Ajax, the baby's sire, is so different from whatever horse Feline would like. What if the foal gets more traits from him than from Amber? Then she suddenly won't have a horse to care for. And she has already been without riding for a few months now. I don't know, she seems a little depressed," I shrugged, my brows knitted together in worry.

"Don't worry, Calypso. We'll figure it out. I will alert the staff, and see what we can do about this," he said, patting me on the shoulder.

That lifted my spirit a little, as we turned around the mares to head back to the barn to cool them down with some water, before it was feeding time.

And then, after the cooling wash, they were let outside into the pasture again!

[crystalelemental]

Did you know there's a tier list maker for Unicorn Overlord classes now? Time to have opinions no one else agrees with!

For context: I am ranking this solely based on combat performance that I achieved. There are classes I have seen people rank far above what I do, and whether that's because they understand something I don't, or they had particular setups I didn't piece together and got better results out of it, it doesn't matter. I am rating this on how I experienced the class playing through twice.

The highest I beat was Tactical. I did try Expert, and beat the maps just fine, but I have this known brain problem where anything timed starts to stress me out if it runs too close, and I was constantly running too close. I never lost a map through the 8 or so hours I played it, but I couldn't stand the time pressure and kicked it down to have a more relaxed time of my life. Make of that what you wish.

S-TIER

Breaker. I feel like the surest indication of an S-tier classification is not having to think about it at all. While some will argue for the best possible performance being the indication of tier, I argue the opposite. I don't think many people are going to dig into the game that hard, and thus many aren't going to see the glory of incredibly fine-tuned tactics that let you beat Arena at level 15 with like three guys. Most are playing normally, and encounter stuff that just naturally works, and that, to me, is the surest sign of potency for a class, because there is nothing hidden that makes it good, you feel it right away. That in mind: Breaker is the most mindless win condition in the game, and my personal assertion for best class. Enrage is dirt cheap at 1PP, stacks, includes accuracy for consistent hit rates, counters armors, and has a row-wide attack that can't even be blocked or guarded. Once armor is removed, Assaulting Blow will recharge 1AP for every KO they land, potentially sweeping the entire enemy team, with no more support than "make sure they don't get hit." Anyone with cover and the tactic of "prioritize Highest Phys Atk" will do the job.

Gryphon Master. Gryphon Master is a bit more dynamic than Breaker, but no less devastating. Row-wide damage for 1AP is exceptionally strong, and they don't suffer the Berserker's accuracy penalty either. Add in cav effectivenss, and they're unspeakably strong. Being flying, they can front row dodge tank. Late in the game, they can pivot to Fatal Dive, dealing true damage to foes and denying guard, which can easily annihilate back-row foes and chip bulkier targets enough for follow-ups to finish. Griyphon Master has so much going for it, and very few legitimate flaws. So long as arrows are covered, they excel.

High Lord. Alain is ridiculous. Not because of anything offensive, but because defensively, he is unparalleled. Blocking is a huge deal to me, I like covering for squishier allies, and Alain's access to specific equipment giving him a much easier time hitting 4/4 means he adds a lot of defensive backbone, without suffering poor Mag Def, and contributing some DPS through anti-cavalry tech and row-wide offense. That anti-cav tech also removes AP and PP both, while inflicting Guard Seal, which is exceptionally potent. His potential to disrupt and defense a team cannot be understated.

Featherbow. At time of writing...this is my favorite class. Consider this bias if you must. Featherbow is S on utility. Row-wide Blindness in response to an attack leaves little room for foes to counter. She is not bound by the Rogues need to hit, and is instant enough that removing this status is impossible prior to them attacking. Photon Arrow hits two targets for -50% Phys Def and Passive Seal, which is devastating if aimed correctly given her high initiative, potentially shutting out a healer completely. Even Saint's Shot can be devastating, just removing 1PP from a target, or 2 if they're non-flying. As a flier themselves, they have evade potential on the front row, and can use their own blind effect to deny archers specifically. Featherbow is a metric ton of fun, and can really disrupt entire teams with good play.

Snow Ranger. Snow White Strike. That alone gets this an S. Follow-up attacks are generally good, accounting for typical shaky accuracy, but Yunifi defies that will solid bow accuracy and a devastating Freeze effect. This is an excellent way to keep an opponent locked down, and the damage doubles if someone else freezes for her. Triple Counter can be devastating as well with enough evasion on her; a full power retaliation that hits three opponents is amazing. Yunifi is interesting in that it really is her passives that make her tick, but Glacial Rain can be used on the back line to really hammer an enemy team with full AoE damage and a freeze effect that shuts down everything. The accuracy is shakier, but to my understanding, only one arrow has to hit for freeze to work. Yunifi is fantastic, and I adore using her.

Dark Marquess. I admit, my first run, I did not really respect Berengeria. I get it now, though. On-entry passive that cuts the initiative and attack of all foes is excellent. So long as foes are afflicted, she recharges PP on multiple attacks, including a 1PP follow up move for infinite regain that also heals her. When she's attacked, she boosts Atk/Initiative and gets 1AP back. She has row-wide offense that inflicts Stun. While it requires afflictions to be present, which can be slightly restrictive, she still has strong options even without that condition met. Dark Marquess is just very persistent and incredibly strong, with a powerful opening move, and it's hard to go wrong with her presence.

Elven Augur. The elf girls are very, very strong, but Augur is definitely stronger. Offensively, an on-entry row-wide attack that inflicts stun if it doesn't kill is great. Much like Sibyl, Augur has a good synergy between skills. Primus Edge restores 1PP if at 100% HP, even if it misses. Elemental Impetus will use 2PP to recharge 1AP, making this a good, steady source of recharge. The main draw, however, is Elemental Roar, a 3AP move that hits all foes and gets stronger with more active fairies. Her opening skill is strong by default, but adding a fairy into an AoE burst is outstanding. Very little investment needs to go into Augur for their magic to devastate, and they even pack a little recovery that can specifically heal up a Cleric-type if they get hit with status, keeping your team rolling without a care.

A-TIER

Shieldshooter. Again, I like blocking. Shieldshooters can block while recovering HP to allies. Shieldshooters also have competent offense in Heavy Bolt, making them a good two-skill focus unit. Their follow-up is fairly weak, but can be nice as I believe it cannot be interrupted, finishing off units that get Holy Cradle or otherwise barely survived. As a bow user in the front, she can aim specifically for back row as well, taking out core supports or big threats with hilarious precision. If anything holds Shieldshooter back, I'd say it's that they don't quite excel at what they aim to do. Heavy Bolt is good damage, but she lacks the same kind of hilarious disruption as Alain does against cavalry, or the row-wide offense he can pack, leading to her being more about sniping a particular target in a match and otherwise existing for defense. Still one of my favorites, though.

Swordmaster. One of my favorites. Swordmasters are about precision removal of specific enemies. By default, this is Scout. In some situations, it can be the fliers. With Runic Sword and some backup with Inspiration, it can include Armor, which legitimately feels like their best utility. But Swordmasters rarely carry. Their damage can be good with proper support, but maintaining that is difficult. And without it, their damage drops precipitously. I do compliment their anti-meta properties, like Meteor Strike being the easiest way to just blow through Galerius' Dark Armor, but they have trouble answering as much as they counter. Outside of Runic Sword, which is a one-time item, they have no means of getting around armor or guards. They're evade tanks whose Parry doesn't work on range, so arrows can break them, and truestrike remains a problem. Their PP generation is a bit challenging as well. Two swords means less flexibility on accessories. But for the sheer depth of what they can do for a team, and how well they can be crafted to serve any comp, A feels right.

Wyvern Master. Look, I don't know why I like Gryphon Master better. I think better early tools, but Fire Breath doesn't take long to unlock and is arguably stronger. Column-piercing is really good too, easily slapping someone out of commission on the back row. I think Wyvern Master is fantastic, but for some reason it just never felt like it worked as well as Gryphon Master, despite having comparable tools. Maybe I'm just biased. Maybe I just really liked Fatal Dive. I cannot give a satisfying answer, because they do rule.

Druid. Druid's great. Probably the strongest on-entry skill in the game, coupled with immediate debuffing of a target's offense as they attack. Defense Curse wildly improves damage and prevents Guard entirely, which is exceptional for offensive cores. I think the only reason I don't respect Druid more is that I didn't use Druid more. Their kit is truly excellent, if hard countered by Clerics.

Prince. Buffing alternative to Druid. Seriously, it's the same thing but reversed. Buffs initiative on entry instead of debuffing, buffs attack instead of debuffing defense, grants truestrike instead of inflicting Guard Seal. Prince does fantastic back-row work. I think I value Druid just a little more, solely because I think the entry skill is stronger, and Guard Seal slightly more valuable than a truestrike.

Elven Sibyl. She's a healing version of the Augur, whose on-entry skill is a heal that provides a nullification to one debuff for a row. She also has Primus Edge/Elemental Impetus, allowing for fantastic generation. However. My problem lies in her AP skills. Elemental Roar remains the boom it is on Augur, but her 2AP skill goes entirely to waste using it, and it's a row-wide heal that provides nullification of one attack to a whole row. To put it bluntly, this is insanely good. Evade tanks have a backup that can now prevent certain death, solely because Eltolinde was present to provide it. And yet...this comes at the cost of Elemental Roar. I talked about this positively in other classes, having strong variability, and I think that's Sibyl's strength too. You can use her as either Elemental Roar AoE damage for a wipe, or you can use her as a healer with built-in blocks to damage for an entire row. But you cannot do both. And that's why she's down here in A. Because the S class options? They can do everything they want in one set. Eltolinde cannot. She makes much harder concessions.

Valkyria. I wish I could put this higher, but I do think it's fairly limited at times. Boosting team defenses and guard rate on entry makes the entire team a lot stronger, and 50% guard rate is percentage points, meaning even your frail back row has better than average odds to guard and reduce a lot of damage. This is not what sells her. What sells her is Maiden's Hammer, a Truestrike move that deals better damage the lower her HP, and is a counterattacking move. This is an excellent utility move. Combined with her natural ability to hit Flying with Vertical Edge, she's like a heavily defensive variation on Swordmaster. But. Swordmaster has that magic attack to blast armor apart, being much more offensively competent. Valkyria relies on Brandish, which is expensive and never deals as much as you want. She can eventually break through, but definitely needs support to see it happen.

Dreadnought. I feel like Dreadnought is a boring, overly straight-forward damage class with exactly one interesting tool. Unfortunately for me, that one interesting tool is hilarious and extremely powerful. When a foe guards an attack, Dreadnought kicks them in the face, inflicting Stun and Guard Seal. That is. EXTREMELY good. It turns a lot of offensive focus options from middling and in need of support, to potentially just blowing right through armors. With her self-buff to get truestrike and sure crit, she's able to obliterate pretty much any individual enemy she sets her sights on. And with greatshields, even in the back row, she tends to be excellent on defense. Initiative can be a problem, but just kicking open a guard for allies is a massive boon.

High Priestess. This may seem a bit mean, but I don't consider Scarlett as potent as other unique classes. Her healing leaves a bit to be desired, and while her main attacks remove buffs, the fact they can miss creates issues. It's not like her damage is exceptional either. What keeps Scarlett in A is really just how rare buff removal is, and how nice having a shield to halve incoming damage while denying status can be in good hands. But the later you get, the more allies can find items that make them immune to status anyway, and thus her shield goes largely to waste. This is especially true for evade tanks, who just...move out of the way of the attack, rendering that shield moot. Scarlett has good tools mired by problems that kept haunting me, but I fully acknowledge what she brings.

B-TIER

Bishop. Standard healer. What gets Bishop in my good graces is Refresh being row-wide, and access to some good AP skills from staves, most notably Lyrical Wand. Most of their AP skills are pretty whatever, so the wand skill is free, and recharges AP of a target. I do think Bishop can be a little finicky, though. Specifically targeting what you want and when can be a challenge on the tactics, with their default sets healing every single hit no matter how minor resulting in consumption of 1PP. It's a necessary class, but not an exceptional one.

Featherstaff. Featherstaff has some solid traits, but I feel like initiative is their worst enemy. Unless they get Overheal or Holy Cradle up right away, it's easy for opponents to just slap something and ruin your plan. Holy Cradle in particular feels like shit outside of PvP/Arena contexts. It's 2AP that could go into just keeping you from dying, and very little in main game can threaten to one-shot you. They're overly specific for single matches, which is why I put them below Bishop.

Wereowl. Very fun but very finicky. Wereowl has basically one truly good trait, and that is granting 1PP to an ally after they use one. This combos into some hilarious shit, especially when you look at things like Featherbow's row-wide blind response, or sustaining healing or guarding, or counterattacks, etc. That said, getting that PP where you want it to go and not having them burn through all of it is very, very challenging. I will give credit for having pretty whatever AP skills. I think they're another that really likes the staff effect to be their primary, though Night Vision for huge accuracy buffs is nice.

Feathershield. What if your tank could dodge? Feathershield is fun because they are flying armor, which means they both take hits well and can evade, making them excellent at sticking around. That said...is it just me, or are there like no greatshields that have passive abilities to shield allies? Is no one else bothered by this? It's like the one fatal flaw. If I could get this guy to both reflect spells and jump in on attacks against the healer, I think we'd be set. I do want to specifically complement synergy with Valkyria. Iron Will with his buff to Mag Def for the entire party makes for some outrageously tanky units.

Great Knight. Cavalry Call. That's basically the class in a nutshell. They have a great buff that applies to all cavs, and are able to rush a column both with their base move and with a follow-up. In addition, they pack the usual AP recovering stuff, but with two different forms of attack, including a 2AP multi-hit move. Great Knights have a lot in their favor. I don't really respect them. I feel like a lot of their utility relies entirely on a full cav team that makes them hysterically easy to counterpick. I think they put so much in offense that every comp tends to lack wildly for defense, and their results in a map are either a clean sweep of massive damage, or getting half the team killed. I think without someone to proc boosted initiative or debuff foe's initiative, they tend to move too slowly and eat a lot of damage. They live attached to Selvie. Outside of cav comps, while they have decent tools, their offenses are significantly less pronounced, and I feel like they falter. They're really fun and have one of the more mindless overall setups, but it's such a hit and miss tactic that's so, so easy to counter.

Doom Knight. I don't really favor sacrificing HP for power. I admit they have a good system going, as well as good bulk and potential to recover damage they do take. I recognize their fire-base AoE move is tremendous damage with a lot of benefits. I just can't put them higher than this. Similar deal to the Great Knights, I think they tend to be easily bowled over at times. Tactics matter a lot, and if their conditions aren't in place, they falter wildly. Without a Cleric, or at least some means of active healing, they're very easily KOd. I like them well enough, but not all that much.

Sergeant. Granting Sure-crit can be specifically tailed for Maximum Funny. Granting 1AP to any ally at the cost of 2PP is also really nice. Sergeant doesn't have the best offensive profile, but column-piercing and cav effectiveness isn't bad, and they add some response to fliers as well. They're a decent all-arounder with no particularly outstanding traits, but some really fun concepts to play with.

Elven Archer. Ice Arrow is one of my favorites, I love freeze and they have the initiative to back it up. I've also seen talk of their on-entry skill resulting in Scarlett granting a PP back with some healing, kicking off their party-wide heal and instantly recovering the team to full not matter how battered from the last encounter. It's something! But I feel like Elven Archer often fails to dazzle. Damage isn't great, they don't have the same truestrike as base archers, their on-entry skill is nice but not one of the better options out there, etc. I do like them a lot, though.

Elven Fencer. Similar deal but worse. They rely heavily on evasion, and can sure-dodge, but only when conditions occur that grant the effect. Otherwise, they have sub-par evasion for a frontline tank, and are always hoping to recharge AP on successful dodges. They rely heavily on allies to set conditions for dodging, and are as easily bopped by truestrike as other evade tanks. At least they have really good and fun offense that has a magical edge, allowing them to hurt armor types.

C-TIER

Sainted Knight. This one would get me killed on Reddit. I don't think Sainted Knight is all that good. I think the blocking of magic can be divine, and the combo with Legionnaire is obviously decent. But I think their problem is often passivity, and being too cluttered with AP. Yes, they can deal hilarious magical damage. If they aren't using Row Heal. But then you need someone else dedicated to healing. Which causes its own problems. But keeping healing means they don't do much in the way of attacks, and that magic potential goes to waste. But also there's only two magical swords in the game and Swordmaster is way more proficient about removing armor, while their attacks seem to fail to KO anything with reasonable Mag Def. Even in just general runs, I use Sainted Knight often for mobility and reduction of magical assist attacks used against us, but their teams are extremely hit and miss by effectiveness. I struggle to see a situation in which they feel as good as many claim.

Legionnaire. I like blocking, so here they are. I do think they're highly passive, lacking for damage or healing or literally anything but guard. But it's nice to have someone to just block attacks and take like no damage, you know?

Feathersword. Kinda middling. Yes, ranged attack, decent self-buffing, but their kit is kinda whatever. No particularly great attacks, buffs literally everything but stats you really want like straight Atk, Discharge is their only means of offense but it removes literally every other form of buff. They have a Truestrike but its 2AP, and their lack of sheer crit rate means Gambler's Coin isn't even salvaging them. I have yet to feel like Feathersword truly does all that much.

Landsknecht. What if you were a follow-up class, but your follow-up missed? What if Berengeria were kinda bad? Bastard's Cross is huge damage, but easily guarded and then rendered unimportant. Landsknecht does have good damage potential, and the AP regeneration of Breaker and Great Knight, but it tends to fall way behind on every other metric I care about.

Warlock. On the one hand, row-wide move that can stun, and great follow-up and counter attacks with generalized magic. I do think the shaky 90 accuracy is a problem, as is general initiative woes and frailty. Pure magic classes tend to heavy invest in just their magical offense and everything else is kinda whatever. As a result, Warlock can do some nice stuff, but I rarely consider them exceptional.

Sniper. I barely used them. I kinda dislike them, to be honest. I got one to work in the Virginia/Feathershield team comp I used, but I feel like the biggest issue they have is that damage output feels limited. They're kind of another precision removal tool, in that they can aim wherever they want and are specifically good against fliers, but only okay when it's a wyvern without crits. Taking out back row stuff also relies heavily on what the enemy team's composition is. They can work, but they're not a favorite, for reasons that are slightly difficult to parse. I don't think they're that bad, but I've never had good success with them.

Sorceress. This has to be my most contentious opinion. I think Sorceress kinda blows. Stupid frail, horrendous initiative, magic can get completely hard countered by two class types, getting conferrals to land where you want when you want is an exercise in pure frustration, status conferrals take 2PP and a whole accessory slot which is demanding, and while their freeze is an excellent status, I pretty much never see it because the rest of the team does its job first or the witch dies immediately. They can be good. Devastating, even. But I feel like they're very often a liability. Also now that both are on here: I don't respect Trinity Rain. Way, way too much investment of a team's resources for something that can (1) miss, (2) be blocked, and (3) be entirely shut down by Feathershields and Sainted Knights.

D-TIER

Vanguard. They're just not too useful. I give some credit for Arrow Cover blocking flying attacks as well, and being useful alongside Swordmasters and fliers for the specifics of what it does. But that's about all I can really praise it for. Neat concept, very lacking outcomes. There's a reason they're a 25 Honor promotion.

Werelion/Berserker. They are the same goddamn class and I don't like them. Row wide and then full party AoE damage should be great, but their offense is surprisingly low by raw stats, and all of their attacks are base 80% accuracy. Which is, as it turns out, bad. The only good stat they have is HP, and fun fact: no situation in any game I've ever played has allowed high HP but bad defenses and evasion to work out. Ever. I feel like this could be a way better class if their other stats were a little stronger in some places, but as it stands, very underwhelming.

Werebear. I tried, but never found much interest in them. A greatshield class that can't block anything, and instead specs into attempts at offense that are inaccurate, or completely miss anything not on the ground. Wholly unimpressed.

Viking. Their on-entry skill should be a favorite. There's so much that should be fun with this. I have never, even once, found a situation where I think it's worth it. Other on-entry skills just offer a lot more bang for your buck, and letting everyone bypass guard, while nice, often isn't necessary to taking down armor. There are other approaches. Like magic. Even half-magic like the Elven classes will do a better job than bringing a Viking's low initiative and inaccurate shenanigans. I want to respect them, I really do, but I've never found a significant use.

Werefox. Let the broad opinion being: I do not respect units whose life is evasion. "But you like Swordmaster." For the offense. For its ability to remove, with incredible precision, several different types of opponents as you see fit. Werefox does not do that. It has some offensive utility I'm willing to acknowledge, but I didn't have a great time using them ever.

F-TIER

Werewolf. Werewolf is one I wanted to like. A row-wide 15% Phys Atk buff with no other conditions is fairly unique, and they have means of restoring AP for further moves. Unfortunately...I just never encountered success. This feels unfair, I feel like something could've happened if I just found something I liked. But the one (1) time I made a team with one that actually started to work out? It was the Virginia/Fodoquia team. And it turned out the best results for that team? Was dropping the Werewolf for a Cleric. I dunno man! Results don't lie! Maybe I'm using it wrong, but I've yet to see this class accomplish literally anything.

Rogue. _Lucille_ on Reddit has some excellent takes on classes, and some fantastic strategy. They're the kind of person who can beat Arena before breaking level 20 on the highest difficulty, something I legitimately could never piece together. So when they say that dodge tanks are better than physical tanks, and that Rogue is very good, I'm inclined to believe this is true. Evasion likely is more successful overall if outfitted correctly. But personally? I consider tier based on ease of access as much as anything. If something is stupid broken busted, but only once you've been playing for a while and have a working meta knowledge of tactics and how to specifically counteract all the things that otherwise beat you? That to me isn't success. That requires niche knowledge for success. And on that note: Rogue sucks. Getting it to work is an unending nightmare. So many enemies have Truestrike, and the only means of not dying horribly is knowing AI patters and how to avoid being the target of attacks that threaten, and nothing else. Even outside of this, just letting one (1) attack land the low percentage to hit is instant death, and in general maps, you're encountering so many swings that eventually that 10% will land. It requires a level of precision and calculation that I feel is way beyond what is reasonable as a more casual fan of the game. While their skills feel exciting, I never once found them significant. Row blindness is done infinitely better by Featherbow, and even Druid if you want to use the staff for it. Stealing AP is only ever 1AP despite the translation, and fails entirely if guarded. PP steal can also be guarded against, ruining the attempt. Someone mentioned using them with Viking's War Horn to ensure hits, stealing PP and using that on accessories to buff allies constantly. Great plan! That also cuts into their evade rate because less equipment goes to it, so you get hit more often. Evade stops working the instant archers are introduced, because they just hit you through it. Their bulk is so bad, anything that touches them kills. Their passive skills are bad, with an on-entry that just inflicts Guard/Passive seal on one (1) target, which sucks, but is likely to go first given their high initiative, ruining much better options because only one goes off. I have active contempt for Rogue. I would love to get it to work, just to see what others are seeing, but I feel like their utility ran out before I even finished the demo. I get that no damage is better than chip damage, but you know what's even better than that? Not dying immediately because you failed a roll.

Paladin. I think the basic fact that nothing seems to outline the skills on a Paladin should tell you what you need to know. The class itself is good enough, but Josef is so gimped in the stats department that once you leave Cornia, and start fighting things closer to his level? He's easily overwhelmed on the frontline and contributes very little to a backline. There's no reason to use Josef past the opening. At least the Rogues can be outfitted with something going on, Josef just feels like a burden.