#my friends and i created our own version of sign language

[apolytus--pc]

Chapter 1 - Nyx (first draft) (we're sorry)

I’m about to sit down with a new book in a study room when a loud scream interrupts me. I want to get in a few chapters before lunch so I ignore it and move on, finishing the first few pages.

“You bitch!” someone shouts, from far away.

I immediately recognize the voice and jump from my chair, striding towards the door. I can already tell what’s going on — a fight between Audrey and Riella. I love when they fight. It's the only entertaining thing that ever goes on here. As the yelling gets louder, I speed up. It’s coming from the common room. I pass a group of people talking just outside and grab Nat by the wrist without stopping.

“Nyx, where are we going?” She struggles to keep up with me, half a cookie still in her mouth from lunch.

I turn to her, remove my hand from her wrist and sign in ASL, “You didn’t hear the scream? Audrey and Riella are fighting again.” I generally prefer to use sign language instead of actually speaking. Plus, everyone else understands ASL so there's no need to speak out loud.

I grin at her and continue on, turning away before she can sign back, and try to convince me to not get involved. I grab her hand once more and pull her forward, urging her to go faster.

Natela and I are identical twins and best friends. We have the same blue eyes, same freckles, same humor, same split dyed black and white hair, same everything. Physically, the only difference is our clothing styles and the fact that I prefer glasses and Nat prefers to wear contacts. Also, unlike Nat, I don’t mind getting into trouble while she is usually trying to keep herself and I out of it.

“Shut off your goddamn music, Ri! Put in headphones! Something!” Audrey screams as she punches Riella square in the nose. As Riella recovers, Audrey pulls her electric blue hair back into a ponytail with a ribbon. She then removes her pink beaded earrings and tosses them to the side.

“Or what?” Riella wipes at the blood now dripping from her nose, which only smears it across her face more.

I lean against the doorframe and look over at Nat, using our own version of sign language to say, “This will be good.”

We had created our own version of sign as young kids, and used it often whenever we didn’t want others listening in. We called it TSL or twin sign language. Everyone here could understand ASL, and a few others could speak it, but none were as fluent as Nat and I. 

She rolls her eyes, pairing it with a disapproving look. I smirk and turn back to the fight.

“Or I’ll mess up your stupid face!” Audrey lunges again, seemingly going for Riella's throat. Riella sidesteps, using her long nails to scratch Audrey’s cheek and avoid harm to herself. Audrey immediately puts a hand where she was scratched, gasping dramatically. When she pulls her hand back, I can see the small bit of blood glistening on one of their fingers.

“I’d like to see you try,” Riella sneers, taking a step back

Grace and Rebecca run in behind us, yelling for Audrey and Riella to stop, but their pleas are drowned out by the scream Audrey lets out when Riella pulls her hair. Netpune eventually files into the room behind me.

He signs, “How much do you wanna bet they’ll kill each other by the end of this month?”

I suppress a smirk as the rest of the group tries to break up the fight. However, their efforts are worthless and Mr. S strides into the room a couple minutes later.

“Ahem.” He tries to get their attention but Audrey and Riella continue to fight, ignoring him. “Girls.” He tries again a little louder, but they don’t even glance in his direction. “For the love of god, will you two please stop fighting!” Mr. S shouts as loud as he can, making Audrey and Riella freeze. “Thank you. Everyone please have a seat, I will talk to you all shortly. One and Two please go clean yourselves up. Six, please get the others.”

I roll my eyes and sit on the end of the couch next to Nat, who shoots me a smile. I glance around the room, taking in what everyone else is doing. Watching the people in our house is always entertaining. 

I live in a house with nine other sixteen-year-olds and our guardian of sorts, Mr. S. There's Audrey, Riella, Vanessa, Rebecca, Effie, Neptune, Sirona, Grace, Natela, and me. We live on a secluded island with no one else around. We are educated by Mr. S and books, and we are stuck with only each other for company. It’s torture.

A few years ago, the people in our house would bicker all the time, but now the petty feud is mostly for dramatics. Only Audrey and Riella really think there’s still a divide and have recently resorted to physical fighting.

I look around the room to see all the fascinating things that the people in our house are doing. Effie, Vanessa, Rebecca, and Grace are sitting on the floor in some bean bags. Effie’s saying something and gesturing around the room with one hand while the other is wrapped around Venessa, her girlfriend. Vanessa is absent mindedly tracing Effie’s hand with her fingers, not participating in the conversation. Rebecca is frowning, as if what Effie is saying is incredibly distressing. Grace runs a hand through her long brown hair, whispering a reply to Effie’s comments.

Audrey is sitting by the window next to them, holding a towel to her bleeding cheek and ignoring everyone else. 

Audrey is what people would call “a mean girl”. She loves to stir up drama and get in fights, she’s super overdramatic, and she’s stereotypically pretty. She wears a full face of makeup and cute pink clothes. I love her. Not in the love way, not even in the “I love my friends” way. I just find her incredibly funny.

Sat in the opposite corner of the room is Riella. She is holding a tissue on her bleeding nose and staring rather unpleasantly at Vanessa. Somehow, the two of them are also twins. Unlike me and Nat, their only similarities are the amber color of their eyes and their dark tan skin. They aren’t friends the way Nat and I are, either, which is clear from the glare Vanessa is shooting right back.

Like Audrey, I also find Riella extremely funny. She has a great sense of humor, and the two of us are pretty good friends. She also definitely pisses Audrey off on purpose, which makes for some very entertaining fights.

Neptune is sitting on a chair next to the couch. It seems like he’s also just passively observing. I’m actually surprised he’s here, since a lot of the time he’ll slip away, somehow unnoticed, for long periods of time, which never seems to get them in trouble with Mr. S. I always beg them to tell me their secrets, but they refuse every time.

I glance back up towards the front of the room at Mr. S. He’s running his hand through his hair, revealing the scar on his forehead, while he paces slightly and talks in hushed tones to Sirona. 

Sirona is the nicest person in the history of the universe, or at least of everyone I know. I know that isn’t saying much given as I have only ever met like 10 other people, but seriously. She is always happy, always positive, always patient — our resident peacekeeper and Mr. S’s favorite.

Sirona has a frown on her face and keeps saying things like “why?” and “please?” I can only hear bits and pieces, though, because Mr. S keeps his own voice down, and he seems to be doing most of the talking. Suddenly Sirona shouts, “Fine!” and storms away.

Mr. S curses under his breath, wipes his glasses and takes a long deep breath as everyone turns to look at him. He’s strong but skinny with big shoulders, and shoulder-length wavy brown hair typically tied back in a ponytail. He glances up, realizing the amount of eyes staring at him. 

Even though he is shorter than a little less than half of us, he still manages to look down on us as he says, “I suppose that I should probably begin while I have all of your attention.” He pauses, looking around the room, probably making sure we were all there. 

“This is going to be hilarious,” I sign to Nat in TSL. She just shakes her head.

“I’ve kept you all here because the fight, while utterly unacceptable, has in fact brought a few things to my attention,” he continues, his voice rising as he speaks. “This feud of yours is getting out of hand. It’s aggravating, and, quite frankly, incredibly foolish. You all display such potential, but you will never be able to utilize your abilities to their full extent if you do not learn to work together. I expect you to resolve this petty conflict within the week, or the team-building exercises you can expect in your immediate future will be the least of the consequences you’ll face,” Mr. S says sharply.

“What are you going to do?” Audrey bursts out. “Ground us? We’re already living on an island with no one else around. It’s literally like an eternal grounding. What more can you do? Kill us?”

“Don’t tempt him,” Neptune mutters, turning towards the window and the open field behind it.

“I’d like to see him try. There’s ten of us and one of him.”

I mask my face into calm indifference to hide the smile, and when I glance at Nat, I could see her trying to hide her own laughter, a lot less successfully. Audrey has always been outspoken and dramatic especially if she wants something, or has an opinion, or even just wants some attention. Plus, sometimes she does occasionally have good points. 

Like the fact that this island sucks.

Mr. S pointedly ignored the outburst and resumed his speech, the only difference is his narrowed eyes. “There will be no more fighting. Do you all understand?” He enunciates each word, spitting them at us.

Mr. S meets each of our eyes, slowly turning his head to look at each of us individually. I’m the last one, and when he gets to me, I hold eye contact, eventually making him the one to break the stare. I hate eye contact but I never stand down to a challenge. Mr. S’s eyes eventually change focus, and fix on something past the doorway, and without another glance at any of us, he stalks out of the room.

As soon as he leaves, Audrey jumps up from her spot on the sofa and glares at Riella, opening her mouth to say something. 

Grace quickly stands, placing her hand on Audrey’s shoulder, quietly whispering, “Don’t.”

Audrey ignores her. 

“‘You will never be able to use your abilities if you don’t work together,’” she mocks, “Who does he think he is? That was the dumbest–”

Neptune cuts her off. “Well, you losers have fun pissing Mr. S off even more and making everything worse for all of us,” he says. “I’ve got better things to do.”

“It’s not like he can hear us,” Audrey counters, rolling her eyes.

“Really? Because as far as I’m aware, he hears everything.” Neptune looks around at all of us dramatically, then bursts out laughing. “I’m kidding. You guys are so gullible. He’s probably moping in his office because Sirona is mad at him. He couldn’t care less what we’re saying.”

With that, Neptune marches out of the room, the smile wiped from his face. Riella follows shortly after. The rest of us fall into an uncomfortable silence that I would normally accept with open arms, but this silence is unnatural. I don’t like it.

[they-call-me-z]

growing up (up until 4 or 5) i spoke a mixture of english. spanish, and polish

which is weird bc im italian? and was around no one that spoke any sort of spanish except my mom (who's only somewhat fluent bc she had spanish from like first grade until 10th or 11th grade). My mom never spoke spanish around me.

And the only person who spoke polish in my family was my polish great grandpa. but he never spoke polish around me either.

and now i only know basic spanish words and no polish.

aka things you'd learn from dora.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Bill Gates will kill us all

2.5b people in Earth's 130 poorest countries have not been vaccinated. The 85 poorest countries won't be vaccinated until 2023. The humanitarian cost is unforgivable - and self-defeating, as each infected person is a potential source of new strains.

https://www.who.int/director-general/speeches/detail/who-director-general-s-opening-remarks-at-the-media-briefing-on-covid-19-5-february-2021

How the actual fuck did this happen?

What happened to the early pledges by governments, the WHO, public health experts and leading research institutions to create global cooperation in vaccine development, eschewing patents and secrecy so that we could rescue our species?

That dream was smashed.

Many people helped create our vaccine apartheid, the single individual who did the most to get us here is Bill Gates, through his highly ideological "philanthropic" foundation, which exists to push his pitiless doctrine of unfettered monopoly.

It was Gates who sabotaged the WHO Covid-19 Technology Access Pool (C-TAP), replacing it with his failed ACT-Accelerator, a system of patents and secrecy and vast profits for the pharma industry, ornamented with nonbinding, failed promises of access for poor nations.

It was Gates who convinced Oxford to renege on its promise of patent-free access to its publicly funded vaccine research for the global south in favor of exclusive patent access for Astrazeneca.

https://khn.org/news/rather-than-give-away-its-covid-vaccine-oxford-makes-a-deal-with-drugmaker/

When we hear ghoul sellouts like Howard Dean pushing the racist, genocidal lie that "patents don't matter" because brown people in poor countries can't make vaccines, we're hearing Gates's talking points:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/08/howard-dino/#the-scream

Gates's role in vaccine apartheid is laid out in exquisite detail in Alexander Zaitchik's outstanding New Republic feature, which delves into Gates's longstanding project to sideline democratic governments and cooperation in favor of monopoly tyranny.

https://newrepublic.com/article/162000/bill-gates-impeded-global-access-covid-vaccines

This goes way, way back. I mean, *waaaay* back, all the way to 1976, when Gates wrote his infamous "Open Letter to Hobbyists," decrying the dominant, cooperative mode of software development and calling its practitioners thieves.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Open_Letter_to_Hobbyists

Gates's fortune depended on creating a software monopoly, and that monopoly required "intellectual property" protection. Gates has always been a monopolist, and so naturally, he loves IP (before "IP" was a common term, copyrights and patents were called "monopolies").

Intellectual property is a very important part of the inequality story, the story of how we got to a world where billions of people are denied vaccines and where all people face new, more virulent strains as a result.

As UNCTAD chief economist Richard Kozul-Wright told Lynn Fries for GPE: "[IP allows companies] to grab a larger share of what has already been produced in the economy."

It's a means of extracting rents, not for doing things, but for OWNING things.

IP is key to tax avoidance: companies like Ikea transfer "IP" (the Ikea trademark) to a numbered company in a tax haven; each national Ikea subsidiary pays "licensing fees" for the trademark equal to 100% of their in-country profits, so they never earn a (taxable) cent.

The transformation of the world into a monopolized system of IP-heavy, rent-extracting, tax-dodging companies really kicked into gear after 1999, with the signing of the WTO agreement and its IP adjunct, the TRIPPS, and as Zaitchik details, Gates was instrumental there.

For this part of the story, Zaitchik talks to Jamie Love, who was at the UN when NGOs like his were pushing to create vaccine and other pharma pools for the global south, while pharma companies handed out pamphlets bearing the Gates Foundation logo, smearing the plan.

Though the US delegation struggled for credibility, the combination of the Gates Foundation, and former US trade officials fronting for  the global pharma industry managed to sideline the project, which was being driven by the demand for equitable access to AIDS drugs.

With Gates's help, the WTO emerged as an IP enforcement powerhouse. Zaitchik cites Dylan Mohan Gray: "it took Washington 40 years to threaten apartheid South Africa with sanctions and less than four to threaten the post-apartheid Mandela government over AIDS drugs."

Incredibly, the Gates Foundation used this to burnish its humanitarian image: they solicited donations from pharma companies and used them to subsidize AIDS drugs in the global south, a maneuver that let them seem like philanthropists.

When in reality, they had overseen a program to systematically deny the world's poorest and most threatened people the right to make their own drugs, making them dependent on the whims of multinational corporate charity instead.

Sound familiar? Today, Gates runs around repeating the lie that poor people can't make their own medicine,  saying that patent exemptions won't make a difference now - to the extent he's right, the world *now* is the crucial one.

Having sabotaged the efforts by poor countries to engage in the kind of production ramp-up the rich world saw as vaccines were being developed, it may *now* be too late. "Because of my bad ideas *then*, it's too late *now*."

The connection between IP and elite philanthropy is deep and important. IP's rent-seeking and tax-dodging has made poor countries beholden to offshore monopolists in health, agriculture and IT, and then starved them of taxes to build up domestic alternatives.

This, in turn, makes them dependent on "gifts" from the billionaires who arm-twisted them into IP treaties, forced them to pay rent on all domestic production, and then profit-shifted the funds out of the reach of their tax-collectors.

As Anand Giridharadas reminded us in his seminal "Winners Take All," the core purpose of elite philanthropy has been the same since the robber-baron era: to burnish the reputations of monsters who take everything and give back crumbs.

https://memex.craphound.com/2018/11/10/winners-take-all-modern-philanthropy-means-that-giving-some-away-is-more-important-than-how-you-got-it/

Reading Jamie Love's quotes in Zaitchik's article reminded me of my own time working with Jamie and Knowledge Ecology International at WIPO in Geneva, when I was an NGO delegate to a global DRM treaty.

You see, at WIPO, the vast majority of NGOs aren't human rights organizations or other public interest groups - they're industry associations representing tech, entertainment, broadcast and pharma monopolists.

These guys - almost all guys - were just aghast when real NGOs started showing up for these meetings and were absolutely shameless in their sabotage of our efforts to balance their corporate lies (absolutely bald-faced lies were routinely entered into the debates).

How petty? Well, they had been accustomed to writing up "fact-sheets" for the day's debate and handing them off to WIPO staffers working for the secretariat, who would photocopy them and set them out on literature tables for the national delegates.

So we started doing this too: we'd take careful notes on the day's debates, convene with global experts to debunk industry association lies, get our Indymedia friends to translate them into six languages, and hand them off to the secretariat in the morning for copying.

So they got the secretariat - a former US textiles negotiator who made her bones helping create the conditions for slave labor in places like Bangladesh - to end the practice of photocopying papers for all NGOs.

Of course the industry bodies had cushy offices in Geneva, whereas we stayed in flophouses and youth hostels. They could ask their underlings to come in early and do their copying for them, whereas we had to take a bus to the all-night copy-shop to get our handouts copied.

Here's where it gets super-weird: our handouts started to go missing. We'd set out our stacks of paper on the literature tables before the morning session and an hour later, they'd all be gone, but none of the delegates had managed to get a copy.

We found those missing handouts...in the garbage, behind potted plants and in the *toilets*.

No, seriously.

And here's the kicker: during the ensuing furore, the main response from the pharma lobbyists was to object to us calling ourselves "public interest NGOs."

I'll never forget this smarmy sociopath in his expensive suit, with his shit-eating grin, standing there saying, "Phamaceuticals serve the public interest, and our industry association is a nonprofit. We are a non-profit, public-interest NGO."

It was a remarkable sight. 20 years later, their version of the public interest - the doctrine of Gates - has produced a multi-billion-person reservoir of the sick and vulnerable who are doomed to serve as factories for highly virulent variants.

This is a literally genocidal doctrine, and it threatens our very civilization. It's a funny kind of non-profit, public interest move for an industry and its billionaire ideologue funders to have made.

But hey, at least no one's "intellectual property" took a hit.

[luvdsc]

haha, what if we kissed? (lol jk... unless?)

fact! you’re secretly in love with your best friend, and so is he!

pairing :: zhong chenle x reader genre :: fluff / best friend, buzzfeed worth it au word count :: 5,072 words warnings :: none playlist :: sunny afternoon (red velvet) ⋆ about love (marina) ⋆ all about you (nct u) ⋆ love (x lovers) ⋆ bella notte (f. murray abraham & arturo castro) author’s note :: i literally just finished writing the rest of this in my meetings today and am posting during my lunchbreak, but happy (1 day late) birthday, chenle sweetheart!! ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.

“Hello, and welcome back to another episode of Dream: Worth It!”

Chenle shouts loudly from the driver’s seat, waving excitedly at the camera attached to the dashboard as he waits for the traffic light to turn green. You visibly flinch in your spot on the passenger's side, startled by the sudden greeting, and even Jisung jumps in the backseat, almost dropping the camcorder he was fiddling with.

Your best friend continues to give the camera a dazzling smile, paying no attention to your and Jisung’s brief glares. “Today on Worth It, thanks to a fan’s suggestion, we’ll be trying out three different spaghetti dishes at three drastically different price points to find out which one is most worth it at its price!”

“Yes,” you chime in, nodding excitedly at the camera and giving a little wave. “So if you want to see another riveting episode of Chenle and Jisung going on three dates at three drastically different price points while I third wheel again, please stay tuned!”

“Hey!”

Both the boys wildly protest, but you blatantly ignore them, checking your phone quickly before beaming at the camera again. “So here’s our first spaghetti fact! The word ‘spaghetti’ is actually the plural version of spaghetto. Spaghetto comes from the Italian word spago, which means twine or thin string.”

“Wait, that actually makes sense. Spaghetti looks like thin strings,” Chenle says, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“Yeah, basically every language makes sense, except for English,” you remark, setting your phone down in your lap before turning to your best friend. “So are you excited for this episode’s dish?”

“Yes! Shout out to Moony for your suggestion,” Chenle calls out, driving forward before making a right. “If anyone else has any suggestions for future videos, please feel free to comment below.”

You start to explain the first restaurant to your viewers. “Our first stop is called Legalize Marinara! It’s a small hole in the wall place in downtown LA, and fresh pasta is made everyday. We’ll be talking to the owner and chef Johnny Suh about the daily process.”

“And cut!” Jisung calls out, and you stop there, pressing the off button to end the recording. Later on, the three of you will have to work on snipping up the recordings to create a smooth transition from there to a shot of Johnny and his restaurant before jumping into your quick interview with him.

You quickly scroll through the questions you had written ahead of time to ask Johnny on your phone, mouthing the words and memorizing them. You were always the one who asked about the history of the restaurant because Chenle wasn’t as good with the more sentimental questions and preferred the light hearted ones about the food specifically, which you didn’t mind. As long as you get to try good food at the end of it, you’re one very happy, very stuffed camper. You are very much looking forward to visiting Legalize Marinara.

“—and that’s how the pasta is freshly made everyday in the morning.” Johnny finishes up, giving the camera a very charismatic smile and a wink. “We also have a special brew of coffee created by my dad, but that’s a story for another episode. I’ll bring out the spaghetti once it’s ready.”

You and Chenle thank him before going over to sit at one of the small metal tables near the entrance. The place had a sort of modern, yet retro feel to it with an eclectic mix of vintage, kitschy furniture adding pops of color here and there to the otherwise simple space with a neutral palette. The name of the restaurant flashes as a neon sign, serving as the main wall decor along with records scattered here and there on the wall as well.

Jisung stands across from the two of you, propping the large camera on his shoulder in preparation. You and Chenle both take a sip of the special coffee drinks Johnny prepared for you each on the house, pleasantly surprised by the crisp, refreshing taste your taste buds are immediately hit with. Johnny appears minutes later, a pretty plate of simple spaghetti and meatballs along with some Parmesan and garnish on top in hand.

“Here’s our most popular dish: spaghetti with meatballs!” he announces, placing the plate in front of you both carefully. “It’s a simple tomato sauce, but it’s made with organic, local ingredients that we get from the farmer’s market every morning. We get the fresh meat from the butcher down the block everyday to make the meatballs and buy the cheese from local sellers as well. We also add the secret spice mixture created by my mom to the meatballs, which gives it a distinct flavor from other restaurants. Please dig in, guys!”

You immediately swirl your fork into the plate of spaghetti. It looks and smells absolutely fantastic, and your mouth is already watering. You cannot believe that this only costs thirteen dollars. This is an absolute steal. You are just about to take a bite when—

“Wait! We didn’t do a ‘cheers’ yet!” Chenle exclaims, sticking out his fork towards you. You clink your fork against his own metal utensil, and he’s finally satisfied, retracting his arm. Finally, you take the much anticipated bite. The flavors absolutely explode in your mouth, and you’re already reaching out to take a second forkful of the delicious masterpiece.

“This is amazing,” you declare, and Chenle nods enthusiastically, spearing a meatball with his fork. Jisung briefly pans the camera over to Johnny, who shows a double thumbs up before doing finger guns and giving an exaggerated wink.

“Here, try this.” Chenle cuts a piece of the meatball and offers it to you. You reach out for it, but he pulls back, smiling widely and eyes sparkling. “Nuh uh, that’s too easy. Say ah, Y/N.”

“I—” Your cheeks grow warmer than ever, and his grin grows broader, wriggling the fork in front of you. Face burning, you move forward and take a bite. You can hear Jisung fake gagging behind the camera and very much would like to flip him the bird, but you are a professional. You’ll get him back for that later. After all, revenge is a dish best served piping hot and spicy, and you have some Carolina reapers leftover from another video that may accidentally find its way into Jisung’s ramen next time.

You and Chenle spend some more time describing the dish in between bites as Johnny pipes in here and there with some well placed dad jokes that has Jisung shaking his head behind the camera. By the end of it, you both are very happy, and you switch places with Jisung who has a chance to try out the pasta himself at last. He silently eats it before tossing a thumbs up at the camera, and you stop the recording there. After thanking Johnny once more before the three of you leave, you all pile into your car and get ready to go to the next stop.

Up next: Penne for your Thoughts.

“Can we stop here?” Jisung pipes up, peering out the window with interest. His eyes scan the surroundings, peering at the empty space and the wide stairs in front of the spiraling columns of a grand building.

You furrow your eyebrows, glancing at your friend in the backseat. “We’re still a couple blocks away from the restaurant though.”

“This looks like a good spot to film a dance,” he muses to himself before sitting up straighter. “Can we take a quick break? We’re still early, and I wanted to film a quick TikTok before the sun sets.”

You look over at Chenle, who shrugs and pulls over. He backs up into an available parking space, parallel parking smoothly, one hand gripping the back of your seat and the other on the steering wheel. “Alright, do your thing, Jisungie.”

Jisung excitedly hops out from the back. You and Chenle follow suit, locking the car behind you. Your friend is busy setting up his collapsible tripod before placing his phone on it and calling over to you, “Hey, can you stand in front, Y/N? I wanna angle this correctly and check the lighting.”

You move in front of his phone, standing several steps in front of the stairs. Jisung fiddles around with his phone for a few moments, switching up some of the settings and zoom functions before straightening up, eyes bright. “Okay, stay there to mark the spot! I’m gonna press the start button to record. Chenle, can I borrow your phone? I need to play the song for the dance.”

Chenle hands him his phone, and the familiar intro to Doja Cat’s “Say So” begins to blast on top volume. Jisung hands it back to its owner and hurriedly moves to stand in front of his own recording phone as you step aside. “I kinda also need you two in my TikTok.”

“Wait, what? I don’t know the dance,” you protest, starting to back out, but Jisung grabs your hand, pulling you into view, as Chenle bounces over with a shrug of his shoulders, never one to shy away from the camera.

“You don’t need to dance. I just need you both to uh, kiss my cheek on, um, both sides when I tap on them both. It should be the fourth time she says ‘say so’ in the song,” he stammers slightly, face turning slightly pink. He avoids making eye contact as you give him a suspicious look, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What? Why?”

“It’s part of the dance! Now get out of the shot please because the chorus is finally coming up again!” He unceremoniously shoves you out of the frame, and Chenle quickly catches you before you faceplant into the ground. You have a few choice words to yell at your friend and are about to furiously march over to him, but Chenle tightens his grip on you. “Let’s just let him finish, and we can go on. You know how he is about dancing.”

“I’m paying Renjun to put another cockroach picture as his lockscreen again,” you huff, frowning at the dancing boy. “Why didn’t you say anything about the whole kissing request anyway?”

“Eh, I’ve done it before. It’s no big deal.” Chenle shrugs, and you start to stutter, brain malfunctioning, “Wait, you did wha—”

“Oh, it’s almost our cue!” Chenle pushes you towards Jisung as he runs behind the camera to the other side, and you find yourself stumbling for a second time before catching yourself. Grumbling to yourself, you catch Chenle’s apologetic expression, and you sigh, shaking your head as you wait on the sidelines for Jisung to do the move.

And there it is.

Jisung points at his cheeks, tapping them on both sides, and you and Chenle jump into the frame. You lean forward, pressing your lips softly against— wait.

Eyes widening, you jump back in shock, mouth popping open, and the same reaction comes from your best friend when you two realize that you just kissed each other. On the lips.

Crouched on the ground, Jisung looks rather smug after quickly dropping down mid-dance and orchestrating the whole incident. He quickly stands up, striding towards the camera and ending the recording, before efficiently packing up the equipment and walking back to the car without another word.

“Did we just—” you splutter, unable to continue your sentence, as your face grows increasingly warm. Chenle refuses to make eye contact with you, the darkening blush spreading across his face like wildfire. The two of you both direct your disbelief at the same target, rushing over to the car which he boredly stands next to, waiting for Chenle to unlock it.

“Jisung!” You both shout his name, and he just stares at you both, a small grin across his face that he struggles to hide. “What?”

“‘What?’ That’s it? What was that?! Why did you do that?” you exclaim, waving your arms around. Chenle is rendered speechless, unable to say anything after the quick outburst of his other best friend’s name.

“I was tired of listening to Che—mmph!” Jisung is abruptly cut off as Chenle throws his hand over his friend’s mouth, effectively interrupting whatever he was about to say. The two of them silently look at each other, maintaining some sort of telepathic stare that’s probably discussed in the universal book of the bro code. You’ve seen Jaemin and Jeno or Renjun and Donghyuck share the same look before and never really understood it. To be honest, it kind of reminds you of that one moment where the main characters of a chick flick gaze into each others’ eyes and then kiss.

The sound of a text notification cuts off your train of thought and breaks the intense stare down going between the two boys, and you check your phone, eyes widening. “Oh my god, we’re going to be late if we don’t go now! Taeyong just texted me to confirm if we’re coming.”

The three of you hurry into the car, buckling up in your seats. Your hand lightly grazes Chenle’s amidst the rush, and you freeze. You look up, heat spreading across your face, as Chenle meets your gaze, turning redder than spaghetti sauce.

“Alright, you can continue this moment at the restaurant,” Jisung says loudly, jolting the two of you out of your stupor. You quickly retract your hand, mumbling a quick apology, and look away, cheeks still growing warmer than ever. Chenle awkwardly clears his throat and starts the car up, driving to your second stop on the map.

Penne for your Thoughts is simply lovely. It reminds you of a place you would see on the shiny cover of Architecture Digest: a hot spot where all those social influencers would take aesthetic snapshots and post to their Instagrams. The restaurant is quaint and spacious: a large area filled with lots of greenery, hanging plants in simple white ceramic pots, white painted brick walls, and wooden tables with soft cushions on each seat. Once you wrap up the interview with Taeyong, you are seated next to an open window with a great view of a pretty koi pond in the back.

“We serve Korean fusion style food here, and our spaghetti has a freshly made tomato sauce that includes chopped kimchi infused in it. We found that using garlic marinated pork belly makes a more flavorful meatball, which we char slightly, paying homage to the wonderful KBBQ samgyeopsal. We also found that a raw egg yolk on top adds a richness to the pasta, which is similar to a bowl of bibimbap. And there’s some grated Parmesan and mozzarella on top.” Taeyong sets the plate of gorgeous spaghetti in front of you and Chenle with a shy smile. “I hope you both enjoy it.”

You don’t know how else to describe the dish, except that it is beautiful (Just like the restaurant owner, like have you seen his face? Lee Taeyong is the true modern day Adonis, but you digress). You swear you saw Chenle wipe a tear from his face out of the corner of your eye. Practically salivating, you impatiently wait for Jisung to take a few close up videos and pictures of the dish before you immediately dig in.

Fork awkwardly hovering in the air, you pause, turning to Chenle. “Uh, cheers?”

His own loaded fork is halfway to his mouth when he halts. “Oh! Right. Yes. Um, cheers, Y/N.”

The two of you stiffly tap your forks against each other before facing forward again and finally taking the much desired bite. The flavors are bursting like fireworks, and if someone told you that you had died and gone to heaven, you would believe them because there’s no other word to explain the taste other than heavenly. Dante had many circles leading to the center of hell. If you are to apply the same concept to heaven, Legalize Marinara would be the first circle you enter once you go past the pearly gates, and Penne for your Thoughts would most definitely be the second.

The clinking of Chenle’s fork against the plate breaks you from your thoughts, and your good mood falters when you remember the incident again. You plaster a quick smile as you begin to describe the dish to the camera. Chenle chimes in with a wide smile of his own that looks a little too forced, but the only one who seems to notice is you.

Once the recording is wrapped up, Chenle drops you off at your apartment building for you to change into a more dressier attire for the last stop. He and Jisung will change at their place before coming back to pick you up for dinner.

Up next: Terrazza San Valentino.

The place is positively breathtaking. It is an upscale restaurant with open seating on a terrace, leading to a beautiful view of the ocean. Wisteria vines and bright flowers weave their way through the twisting low iron fences encompassing the space as they climb the sides of the building. You have the perfect seat to witness the picturesque sunset over the rippling waters. A bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon had been brought out and now rests on the covered table, uncorked and already poured out into two glasses. It very much reminds you of the beautiful restaurants you visited along the Amalfi Coast, specifically Il Capitano in Positano. You only hope that the food here will be just as amazing as the pasta you ordered there.

You just wish your company was a little better. The atmosphere felt more awkward than the time your mom had set you up on a blind date with her coworker’s son. You had to text Chenle for help that time, and he came to your rescue, helping you escape after pretending to be your long lost son. Obviously, your date wasn’t dumb enough to believe that, but he did believe that you were completely off your rockers and immediately took off after that.

Sneaking a glance at your best friend, you sigh when you realize that he refuses to look your way. You carefully tuck the skirt of your wine red dress under your crossed legs. The sweetheart neckline emphasizes the simple gold necklace you have on, and the dress tapers off at your waist, accentuating your figure perfectly. You paired the outfit with a matching lipstick, a simple black clutch, and some elegant black heels with ribbons that loop around your ankles into a pretty bow.

In other words, you look stunning, and Chenle’s palms are growing sweaty. He undos the first few buttons of his white dress shirt, desperately wanting to take off his tailored suit jacket, but his attire would look much too casual without it. He avoids eye contact with you and remains silent, growing even more flustered by the second, and looks at Jisung helplessly.

Of course, his other best friend proves to be useless again (Disappointing, but not surprising). Jisung simply wriggles his eyebrows at him, eyes darting from you to Chenle, before zooming into his face at a very unflattering angle. Chenle throws him a dirty look, and Jisung merely sticks out his tongue in response. However, they immediately smoothen their expressions into much more pleasant ones when Jaehyun comes out with the plate of food on a small cart.

“This is our play on spaghetti.” He gives you a dimpled smile, and you briefly wonder if the customers rave about this restaurant because of the food or the chef. Perhaps it is a combination of both.

He continued to explain the dish, setting it down in front of you and Chenle. “We use strangozzi that is made fresh every morning. We infuse sun dried tomatoes that we dried ourselves into the olive oil for a minimum of thirty days. The pasta is cooked for sixty seconds, while we slightly sauté grated truffle in the oil in a pan. Once the pasta is ready, we transfer it to the truffle pan and cook it for another minute, making sure to coat the pasta in the sauce. And then we grate some Parmesan and truffles right on top at the table.”

Jaehyun pulls out the expensive mushroom, generously grating thin slices on top of the glistening strands of pasta. The smell is incredible, and your eyes are already hyper fixated on the dish in front of you. He puts down the mushroom and grater, picking up the second grater and the cheese from the cart before shredding the cheese perfectly.

When he finishes, Jaehyun places them back on the cart and smiles at you both charmingly once more. “I hope you enjoy your meal. If you need anything else, please feel free to ask.”

You thank him before he leaves, and Jisung takes all the necessary shots before giving the okay to start eating. You and Chenle offer up some comments about the elegance of the dish, describing its appearance and finally twirling some on the end of your fork. You murmur a quiet “cheers” as the two of you clink your glasses of wine together and take a sip before having the first bite.

The amount of money you have to pay to have a truffle dish is absolutely worth it. The taste is simply indescribable, and you truly have no words. You are blown away by the amount of flavor that can be created with just a few ingredients, and your taste buds are singing. Wide eyed, you turn to look at Chenle, who has the same astonished expression on his face, already staring back at you in complete surprise.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, and your best friend agrees with you. “Holy shit indeed.”

You immediately go for another bite, and Chenle quickly follows suit. “This is— this is incredible. I don’t know how to describe it, except, except, wow. I can’t stop eating it, and the sun dried tomatoes, olive oil, fresh pasta al dente, and truffles just work so well together. It’s like a symphony in my mouth.”

“I agree,” Chenle nods enthusiastically, swiping another forkful of the yummy goodness. “This has to be one of the best dishes of the entire season.”

“Yeah, absolutely.” You spear a slice of the truffle with the pasta, and the ensuing bite is simply perfect and delectable. “I would come back here every single week if my bank account would let me.”

The stifled atmosphere between the two of you suddenly becomes relaxed at that point, the thick tension dissipating with food never failing to act as the perfect ice breaker and buffer simultaneously. For now, you can pretend the kiss didn’t happen and almost forget it (key word: almost).

“There’s a very popular fan suggestion,” Jisung pipes up, looking at the comment section of the previous video where you and Chenle announced your current recording’s star dish. “It got over twenty thousand likes and five hundred responses.”

“What is it?” You pause in eating, fork poised in the air, as you look over to your friend behind the camera. Chenle pays no attention, continuing to take another bite.

“Recreate the Lady and the Tramp moment.”

Your jaw drops, and your eyes grow round. Practically scandalized, your voice goes an octave higher. “You mean the kissing scene?!”

At the mention of kissing, Chenle chokes on a noodle, spluttering and nearly hacking up a lung, and you quickly reach over and firmly pat him on the back repeatedly until he stops coughing with a weak “thanks.”

“What? This is a food show! Why do they want us to kiss?” your best friend wheezes, and you pass him a glass of water. He grabs it from your outstretched hand gratefully and takes a large gulp.

“I don’t know, fan service? Anyway, it’s good for the views!” Jisung gives you a thumbs up, and you frown at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Why don’t you do it with Chenle then?”

“It specifically says you and Chenle,” he informs smugly with a smirk, and you glower at him, much to his amusement.

“Well, if it’s for the fans…” Chenle trails off, a faint blush beginning to make its appearance on his face. He hesitantly pulls out one strand of the pasta, picking up one end on his fork.

You can’t believe this. Yet, you slowly reach out for the other end of the strand with your fork, twirling it onto the metal prongs securely. You move to take your end of the noodle, while Chenle does the same, both of you actively avoiding eye contact.

“Oh c’mon, at least make it a little more romantic than that. Jeno and Jaemin have more chemistry than you two right now,” Jisung complains, and you would very much like to chuck the half full bottle of wine at his big, annoying head (Chenle also has similar thoughts).

Taking a deep breath, you finally place the noodle’s end in your mouth. Cheeks burning, you can feel your heart rate already skyrocketing at the mere thought of kissing your best friend again. You know you’ll freeze up if you look at him, so you do your best to focus your gaze on the center of the noodle strand. You’ll have some time before the two of you meet in the middle, right?

Wrong.

It comes much too soon, and your palms are growing sweaty as your heart races in your chest at a breakneck speed. Your lips are mere millimeters away from his, and you pause. You can’t hear anything, but the pounding of your heart and the blood rushing to your cheeks, and you finally find the courage to peek up at your best friend. You find him already gazing at you, a soft expression on his face. His eyes dart down to your lips before meeting your eyes once more, and you suddenly realize that he’s waiting for you, that he won’t do anything unless you want it too, that it’s okay if you don’t.

But you do.

So you muster up all the courage you possibly can and close the distance, carefully pressing your lips against his for a tender kiss before biting off the noodle. When you pull back, you finally notice the awestruck expression written all over Chenle’s face. He lets out a small laugh of disbelief before he positively beams, bouncing in his seat, and you sport a matching smile, albeit a little bashful.

“Uh, anyway, who left that comment? We should probably give them a mention,” you say, clearing your throat and hoping the heat subsides in your cheeks soon. Chenle continues to grin like the Cheshire Cat and secretly grabs your hand underneath the tablecloth, intertwining your fingers with his. You can feel your face exponentially growing warm once again, but you still send a pleased smile to your best friend.

“Uh…” Jisung awkwardly laughs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “‘Insert goofy’s chuckle.’”

At Jisung’s answer, you freeze up entirely in your position before immediately turning and locking eyes with Chenle in complete horror, the both of you instantly coming to the same, dreadful realization.

“HYUCK?!”

One new notification: Dream: Worth It uploaded a new video!

insert goofy’s chuckle commented:

oh my god you guys actually did it. your relationship started all thanks to ME 🙆🏻 you’re welcome btw 😘 I take payment in the form of your first born’s name

notanimpasta replied: @ insert goofy’s chuckle ok calm down rumpelstiltskin

jisung pwark replied:  @ notanimpasta what a perfect nickname for him. He’s an ugly little greedy man

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ jisung pwark LMAOOOO (and congrats, chenle and y/n!)

 insert goofy’s chuckle replied:  @ jisung pwark what tf no one asked??? 

notanimpasta replied: @ jisung pwark wait hold on you were supposed to edit that end part out????

jisung pwark replied: @ notanimpasta i left it for the views ☺️

big head king replied: @ jisung pwark people watch for the food tho!!! 🙂

nana ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ replied: @ big head king I watched it for the kiss. Love is so beautiful 🥰💓💞🥺🥺💕💛💟✨💖

jenojam replied: @ big head king I had watched it for the food! but congratulations, y/n and chenle :) 

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ big head king i watched it because ron jeon said you mentioned me

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ insert goofy’s chuckle IT’S RENJUN!!!!!! 🤬🤬 

mork lee rawr xD replied: hahaha I watch for the food~

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ mork lee rawr xD Thank you Mark, very cool!

winwin in past tense is wonwon!!! commented:

whoop whoop congrats lele 🥳🥳

rapperpunzel commented:

the pasta looks good 🍝

johnny’s communication center commented:

Thanks for stopping by! Come back for the couple’s special discount anytime 😉

baa baa yang sheep commented:

oh my god finally!!!

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ baa baa yang sheep you owe me $50 I was right, it happened before the season finale

baa baa yang sheep replied: @ ghosts are real so suck it hyuck suddenly i’m jared, 19

xiao dejasmine commented:

hahahaha cute ! 😁😁

ty track commented:

Thank you y/n and chenle for visiting ~~ congrats on your relationship !!! -TY

junguwu (◕‿◕✿) commented:

YAAAAAS CHENLE SWEETIE 😘😘😘

jisung pwark commented:

check out my latest tiktok video @ jisungpwark to see their actual first kiss!!! and don’t forget to like, comment, and subscribe ☺️

notanimpasta replied: @ jisung pwark STOP USING US AS CLICKBAIT

jisung pwark replied: @ notanimpasta no ❤️

jisung pwark replied: @ notanimpasta also red is sus

big head king replied: @ jisung pwark so when are you gonna do the best friend kissing challenge huh 👀

jisung pwark replied: @ big head king SHUT UP CHENLE

honeyfairy replied: @ jisung pwark 😳😳

gu ren gui god commented:

wow~ very cute, chenle! my angel 😊

FIGHTING HAEYADWAE commented:

YOOOOO CONGRATS, MAN 🤩🤪🤪

prince jae commented:

thank you guys for coming by! please stop by next year on your anniversary free of charge (:

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ prince jae omg mark and I will be there for sure ❤️

showmethemonet replied: @ insert goofy’s chuckle my new boyfriend and I will be there too ☺️

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ showmethemonet I’m sorry, I was wrong, pls don’t leave me for bts jin even though i am so much more handsomer and talented than him 😌

apado gwenchana god commented:

nice 😎👍🏻

[strawberrylemonz]

Innit an Adventure

An addition to the AU, lol. Instead of chat being in his head, like Techno’s, Tommy’s chat are ghosts that follow him around :)

This one is dedicated to @ivorylin for being very supportive of my first post regarding this au. This is also dedicated to @petrichormeraki for being poggers and enjoying the first part of this series, as well as inspiring it.

Part 1

Part 2 [CURRENT]

Part 3

--------

“Brother!!! Pog!!!”

“Big brother returns!”

“HE CALLED HIM STARCHILD, I’M GONNA SOB”

“I just woke up, what’s happening?”

“GOODBYE SBI, HELLO HERMIT GRIAN”

”HERMIT HOMIES HOURS”

“HOLY SHIT, HE’S OUR BROTHER”

“I was getting a snack, what’s up?”

“DJLFKNGON I’M GOANNA   CRYSLK”

“BEST BROTHER EVER”

“I’m on the toilet, pog”

“I have tacos :)”

“BRGB SOBBING”

“GRIAN POGGGG”

“This makes me happy you didn’t do a double flip”

“ADIOS TECHNOBRO AND WILBRO, I ONLY KNOW BIG BRO G!!!”

“Anyone else have dust in their eyes?”

“CHAOS DUO RELATED POG”

Tommy let out a shaky breath as he rubbed his eyes. Chat was going crazy at the new news and, to be honest, he couldn’t blame them. If he was in their position, he’d be freaking out alongside them. Wanting to end both the silence that filled the cavern and the nonsense Chat was saying, Tommy let out a hoarse laugh before speaking.

“Chat really likes you, G.”

A smile formed on the teen’s face as his head bounced with the hefty laugh that came from Grian, whose chest began to rumble alongside the laughter. Finally lifting his head off his brother’s chest, Tommy allowed the remaining tears in his eyes to fall as he looked to Grian’s face. Grian smiled fondly back at Tommy, wiping away the tears from his little brother’s eyes. 

“I suppose I should say hello to all of them. Is Chat similar to Techno’s voices?”

Concern flashed across Grian’s face as Tommy flinched at the mention of Technoblade. It was small, and could have been easily overlooked if Grian wasn’t watching his brother like a hawk. He made a mental note to ask about that later that night, when they were around the campfire.

“Nah, he’s just insane. Psychotic or some shit like that. I’m just really fucking cool and can see spirits and shit.”

Eyebrows from the crowd (shit, they were still there, weren’t they?) and Grian were raised as someone Stress half heartedly scolded Tommy for his language. Tommy just rolled his eyes, knowing that they only scolded him as a joke. They had all grown accustomed to his wording, and were worried when he didn’t slip in a few curses into his sentences.

“Spirits?”

“Yeah, spirits. I call em Chat most of the time, but they have different nicknames, and they all have individual names. Clara explained that it was one of the many side effects to her marking me as a ‘Starchild’ in her name. They are the spirits of the lands, from servers all around, or some shit like that. I can see them all, but they make the choice to stick with me or not.”

This was...news. Grian, who was still processing that he his baby brother was alive, sitting right in front of him, as well as the fact that Clara was real, could only stare. He wasn’t so sure how to feel about his brother being indifferent to all the spirits, but he suppose that it couldn’t be helped. Spending pretty much your entire life seeing spirits would make him indifferent to the spirits as well. 

“So, Chat is...everywhere?”

“Basically, yeah”

Grian hummed as he proceeded to greet Chat, being polite to the beings he couldn’t see. Much to the annoyance of Tommy, Chat seemed to be loving Grian even more. Maybe a bit too much.

“HE’S SO POLITE”

“How thoughtful of him”

“HELOO HI GRI A  N HWAHT’S UP BRO”

“Grian bro supremacy”

“GRIAN BRO SUPREMACY”

“HERMIT HOMIE WOOOOOO”

“BEST BRO POG”

“holY SHIT I’M IN LOV E ADKNVOD”

“THE RACCOON HAS A POG BROTHER WOOO”

“HI GRIAN HI”

“Rodent brothers??? pog?????”

“HELLOHELLOHELLOHENSLO”

“TELL HIM WE SAID HI, CHILD”

“Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah, calm down, calm down, calm down, calm down. Chat says hi, Grian. And, hey, I’m not a child, what the fuck!? I’m a big man!”

Impulse snickered as Mumbo walked over to the two brothers. Smiling down at them, he helped the two back to their feet. Grian smiled as he set a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, squeezing it slightly. Tommy, in turn, beamed with pride at his brother and his friends. 

“Alright, we spent enough time being emotional and shit. Let’s get going, I have more cool shit to show you guys.”

Laughter filled the cavern as Tommy fixed his hair, his booming man child I’m not a child voice being drowned out as he led them back outside. Slightly huffing. He let out a yelp as he was nearly tackled to the ground from behind. Letting out undignified noises of protest, he turned to see the smug smile of Grian, who was ruffling his hair. 

“Alright, big man, show us your land of paradise!”

Barking out a hearty laugh, Tommy ducked out from his brother’s hand before grabbing it, spinning a few times, and pulling him forward. 

“Aw, look at them!”

“Wait, so Grian has two sections now?”

------

The traditional booth games in Tavern Town were fun. From balloon darts to milk bottles, to ladder climb and hoop toss, Tommy thought of it all. Unique designs decorated each booth, all holding an individual and unique look. Everything about the area was impressive.

“Where did buy get these for the games? I don’t think I’ve ever seen them in the main server.”

Tommy peered over to Doc, who was inspecting the prizes neatly strung up on all the booths. There were plushies of different types of mods, some familiar, others not. They came in all types of colors and sizes, and were overall impressive. Walking up beside Doc, Tommy just shrugged his shoulders, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“I didn’t buy them, I made them.”

Scar perked up, before jumping right into the conversation.

“You what? Toms, that’s impressive! I didn’t know you could sew.”

‘Fucking hell,’ Tommy thought to himself. He didn’t expect to get praise for his simple hobbies.

“Yeah, I sew. I’m actually pretty crafty, being resourceful and shit. I also knit and crochet. It’s not much, but it’s really fucking therapeutic and all that jazz.”

Before anyone else could comment, a dinging noise sounded at one of the booths. Turning to look at the cause of the commotion, they saw that Stress and Impulse had won a game together. Giving each other fist bumps, they watched as a screen popped up, giving them prize options to choose from. After receiving their prizes, they hurried over to Tommy with smiles painted on their faces.

“You bet we’re gonna win one of each plush here.”

A high pitched laughter erupted from Tommy, who was starting to enjoy his decision to hand make all the prizes in his park. Wiping away a tear of joy, the teen I’m eighteen, I’m a fucking man! You’re a child, Tommy beamed at his friends, who smiled warmly in return. Tommy’s joy seemed to increase as more booth alarms were set off, many more prizes coming off the shelves. By the time everyone was ready for the next land, they all had at least two plush toys each.

———

“This is delicious! You baked these?!”

The group was currently sitting in the seating area in the Dream SMP section of the park, more specifically, L’manburg. They had gotten pastries from the duplicate bakery that belonged to Niki. According to Tommy, it was an exact replica to the real thing. The pastries sold there were the same ones Niki sold back at L’manburg. Tommy had used the recipes and techniques that Niki had demistrated to both him and Tubbo to create the dishes.

“If you think these are good, you should taste Niki’s. I swear, her pastries were sent down from Heaven by Jesus himself. They taste fucking amazing, godly.”

Grian smiled as he nudged Tommy’s shoulder with his own. Popping another sweet cake in his mouth, Tommy quirked an eyebrow as he faced the older boy.

“You should teach me some of your hobbies, Starchild. We can do a hobby exchange.”

Tommy visibly brightened up as he wiped some frosting from around his mouth. Smiling, he nodded his head happily.

“Hell yeah! That sounds fuckin’ amazing!”

The group ate with content as they looked around their area. They had already seen the rest of the Dream server lands. 

“It’s amazing that you’ve made all of this by yourself. You haven’t even showed us the rest of the park yet! Good job, for a child.”

“Hey! I’m not a fucking child! I’m turning 19 soon!”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you were an Aries.”

“What’s wrong with being an Aries?”

“Nothing is wrong with being an Aries, Tango.”

“Oh shut it, you Librarian.”

“Librarian?”

“Yeah, the worst sign.”

“First of all, kid, I’m a Gemini.”

------

The rides and games in the DSMP were very diverse and unique. Tommy had really put a lot of effort and time into every attraction, no matter how small. From things as small as a scavenger hunt through the Badlands, water themed adventures in El Rapids, to fast paced coasters in L’manburg.

“Scoot over, bandit child, I’m sharing this ride vehicle with you.”

“What the fuck, man?”

“Oh, don’t act surprised. I know you made it to where two people share a seat just so you can spend quality time with your brother.”

“Oh, fuck off, I didn’t even know you were my brother until an hour and a half ago.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

The first ride the group decided to board was dubbed A Home. Entering a little shack, everyone boarded their ride vehicles and waited for the ride to begin. While they waited for the vehicles to move, Tommy explained how he managed to use the latest mods that were added to the server to his advantage. He managed to fit different tracks to different rides in the same builds, as well as add animatronics. Just as he was about to receive yet another wave of praise, the ride began.

“It’s like looking at a younger version of you!”

“That’s kinda the point, genius.”

Grian’s statement, as obvious as it was, was true. As the vehicles left the shack and entered the caravan, and animatronic Tommy, merely 16 years of age, welcomed the riders as they witnessed the beginning of a new home, L’manburg. They kept comments to themselves when they saw, yet again, the replica of Tommy’s old base. The ride track took them through different areas of the DSMP, following the young Tommy as he searched for a home.

“-the citizenship of Wilbur Soot and Tommyinnit!!!”

“What?!”

“What does he mean revoked?!”

Before Tommy could reply, the vehicles lurched backwards, keeping the vehicles facing the stage at all times as the animatronics turned to take aim at the riders. It wasn’t until the red stone to the dirt entrance revealed the entry way to Pogtopia that the vehicles did a 180, moving forward into the entry way before going down the spiral steps into the ravine. Laughter filled the air as the group saw animatronics of Tommy, Wilbur and Techno conversing together, joking around and teasing each other. Suddenly, the ride vehicles fell down to the next part of the track, the prime path. As they raced through the tunnel, they witnessed an animatronic Tommy and Tubbo embracing and conversing, their cheerful voices free from worry. The group could only sit in awe as the scenes continued to change.

“-goodbye, Tommy.”

“What does he mean goodbye?!”

“Oh my fucking god, shut up!”

The vehicles suddenly raced through the Nether, coming out to an island far from DSMP. The sign at the entrance of the area welcomed the group to Logstedshire. There, they could see an unhappy Tommy staring out towards the ocean, listening to Chirp as he mumbled nonsense to Clara. And just as quickly as they came, they raced out of the sunny area and into the snow. They raced around the inside of Techno’s cottage before racing outside, towards an empty area. There, an animatronic Tommy yelled out in shock as an animatronic Technoblade pressed a button, turning around as a secret lair was revealed.

“Welcome home, Theseus!”

For the final time, the scene changed. They entered, backwards, into a portal, coming out to face a replica of the spawn to Hermitcraft. There, in wonderous glory, stood an animatronic Xisuma, welcoming the group to Hermitcraft. Then, the track dropped, leaving the riders back at the entrance to the ride.

“Holy shit.”

“Haha! Holy shit is right!”

———

The group quickly learned that Tommy spared no expense in all his attractions. As they explored the different lands, they really saw the individuality of every land. L’manburg had fun rides, including Nation’s Legacy, Blood’s Ballad, Wither’s Wrath, and Creator’s Cabin. Nation’s Legacy is an underground ride that worked like a turntable to tell the history of L’manburg, ending on a grim and looming hint to the possible destruction of the nation. When asked about the fate of L’manburg, Tommy admitted that he appeared in Hermitcraft before he could witness the possible doomsday, so he wasn’t entirely sure what had occured afterwards.

Blood’s Ballad is an interactive ride that used a special red stone technique. The ride vehicles could seat up eight passengers at a time, each using special gloves that allow them to interact with the special ride elements. The goal is to get the most points out of everyone in the ride vehicle. The ride took the group on a journey with Technoblade, the Blood God. The group racked up points training alongside him, as well as fighting all sorts of mobs. By the end of the ride, Tommy was sulking as Stress managed to gather the most points. Stress was enjoying the victory, smiling happily as “SUBSCRIBE TO TECHNOBLADE” boomed through the speakers. 

Wither’s Wrath was more of a small scale ride to enjoy. There were only three ride vehicles, each shaped like a wither and able to hold three riders. Each rider sat in a wither skull. Grian smiled as he pulled Mumbo and Tommy into a a wither vehicle with him. As they strapped in, they were transported to a virtual world where the rules of the game were shared. The goal was to cause the most destruction in the virtual world than the other vehicles. Each player controlled their own skull, making it easier to gather points. At least, that was the case for-

“Fuck yeah! Team Kickass all the way! Check it Grian, Mumbo, we’re badass!”

Creator’s Cabin was simple enough. It was just a large cabin that held enchanted portraits of everyone who resided in the DSMP. The portraits could move within their frames. They could also interact with each other. When the group walked in, the portraits were chatting away with each other. Sam’s portrait seemed to be listening in on the conversation that the portraits of Tubbo, Tommy and Purpled were having, occasionally joining in when he saw fit. Fundy was chatting away with Eret and Niki, a bright smile on his face. Ranboo was timidly peeking over at the group with Tommy and Tubbo, obviously wanting to join in. The portraits of Quackity, Sapnap and Karl were deep in conversation, while the portrait of George was asleep sitting up.

“Hey, Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are there two portraits of Wilbur?”

“Oh, right. Grian, about Wilbur-”

“AHOY THERE! WHY DON’CHA BOARD ME SHIP AND CONQUER THE WATERS WITH ME?”

The group, aside from Tommy, jumped at the booming voice. Without hesitation, they all ran out to the water, searching for the source of the voice. There, out on the water, stood a lone animatronic. It was the animatronic of a petite woman, one with red curls dancing around as she swayed and spoke. Once more, her confident, melodic voice filled the air. 

“JOIN ME ON MY QUEST TO RIDE THE WONDROUS WAVES OF THE SEAS”

With that, she raised her right arm, hoisting a sword into the air. On cue, she began to rise as a ship emerged from the sea below her. Once it was no longer submerged, the ship rocked a few times before settling. A banner unraveled and blew in the breeze, the name of the area now visible for all to see. 

Sally de Mon’s Sea Voyage

“You like it? Creating the entrance for this ride was a fucking bastard. Kept me up all night and crap. Almost gave up completely on it.”

“It’s amazing! I was not expecting to see something like that!

“Hey, Tommy? Who’s Sally. I don’t think it was ever explained how you know her?”

“Really? I gotta fix that, then. Sally is my sister-in-law who-”

“I HAVE A SISTER-IN-LAW?!”

“Oh, shit...surprise?”

------

The Badlands was a fun, interactive section of the DSMP area. The various puzzles and mazes made it fun for all the participants. The muffin stand was also a fan favorite to the hermits. 

El Rapids was a water-filled adventure. Because he wanted to play around with the word rapids, Tommy made several water-based rides and activities, his favorite being the log ride. They just seemed to be the perfect addition to the area, adding a way to cool down to balance all the water-free rides. It seemed as if Tommy had thought of every type of ride for every type of biome and scenario.

SMP Earth was another large section of the park. It also held the only other largest ride in the entire park, one that led the riders throughout the Antarctic Empire, as well as its surrounding cities and towns. The area for the empire was beautiful decorated in colors of all kind. Flowers and banners decorated the buildings and streets, brightening up the area. Classic activities, such as the sparing rings and archery, as well as the axe throws and parkour courses were set up. It all felt familiar to Grian, who couldn’t help but smile at his brother. Grabbing one of the fliers, he inspected it before shooting his brother a look of uncertainty.

“You didn’t”

“On the contrary, brother dearest, I did!”

“Did what? What did he do?”

Grian laughed as he showed the group what the flier said. It was decorated in beautiful, hand-drawn flowers. Golden lettering perfectly spelt out the message.

Floral Festival of Spring

Join us in the weeklong celebration of Spring! Enjoy the festivities with friends and family as you explore the traditions held within our grounds. Finally, enjoy the wondrous Floral Gala held on the final night of festivities. Dawn your greatest fabrics as you dance the night away, before enjoy a magnificent firework display.

Signed by his royal highness,

Prince Thomas Theseus Minecraft

“He used his full name and everything!”

“Your middle name is Theseus?”

“Your actual last name is Minecraft?”

“Did you actually write this? It’s worded and written so…formally.”

Huffing a bit, Tommy crossed his arms. Fixing his posture, he stood up, tall and proud, as he puffed out his chest. It took everyone every fiber in their bodies to not laugh at the sight of him.

“I can be very formal, thank you very much. I’m not a fucking idiot, I remember the formality lessons the teachers put me through. And I take the offense to that writing comment! Do you know how many attempts it took for me to be able to recreate the stupid fancy font used back at the empire? And another thing-”

Grian playfully hopped on Tommy’s shoulder, startling the younger brother to his usual stance. Ruffling his hair, he assured his brother with a laugh.

“Calm down, Toms. You know that we’re messing with you. You did amazingly. How many more flyers do you have? We’ll set them up in the Hub to be distributed across the main server. It’s been a while since I’ve attended a royal ball, so let’s make it grand!”

Laughing, Tommy had no choice but to agree with Grian. His smile faltered, however, once realization sunk in. The next activity for the group was the campfire. The secrets of his time at the Dream SMP that he kept for over 2 years would finally be revealed.

‘Better late than never to prepare the waterworks’, thought a very nervous Tommy.

[thegothicviking]

As re-entering a link from herzeleid.com never seem to work (??) I usually copy and paste the actual text. Remember a transcription of Flake chatting with fans that I posted from early 00'? Before this Paul had a similar if not the same chat. I have already too long post in tumblr now so it will be broken down in 2 parts!

PAUL CHAT WITH FANS part I

Transcribed by Jeremy Williams

Taken from Rammstein.com chat

October 26 , 2005

_____________________________

Mod: Hello to you all. Thanks for coming out. Paul will be here in just a few minutes. And then we're going to get started.

Paul: Let's go!

niti: +++

Mod: Sorry, there was a technical problem. But the chat will start soon.

niti: +++

**atomrt: how do you chose the sounds for each song because all of them fit perfectly?**

Paul: Thanks a lot! Sometimes that works out well, sometimes not so well.+++

**maria: Your album covers have always sparked a lot of controversy. Which cover is your favourite and why?**

Paul: The cover for Sehnsucht was the most dramatic in my opinion.+++

**Benzramm: What was coming out of the fake penis during the live act "Bück Dich"? **

Paul: That was water with Ouzo to make it milky.+++

**Beurgueur: Good evening, Have you ever thought to write a metal-opera based on rammstein’ story?**

Paul: Hopefully not. We have enough theater elements already.+++

**MafiUndomiel: I was at River Plate Stadium in Argentina, 1999, when you toured with KISS. You did almost surpassed KISS music and show with your impact, and many people was really impressed. I still remember the silence during Du Hast, as Till was singing the refrain. What do you remember of Argentina, of this show? **

Paul: Yeah, that was unbelievable. It's a shame that we can't play in South America this time. Flake was seriously ill.+++

**MafiUndomiel: Did Till write Te Quiero Puta on his own, or had some kind of external help? I know it's not very complicated, nor elaborated in the lyrics, but it's not easy to put two or three sentences together if you don't know the language... believe me! I'm still trying with German!**

Paul: He had some help from his girlfriend and from Flake's friend from Chile.

Paul: But Till can already speak Spanish so well that he only had a few questions about grammar.+++

**monkeyman: What type of gear do you use when recording in the studio?**

Paul: This would take two hours to list. Too much for now. Sorry.+++

**Hugo: Why did you choose almost the same cover for the japanese version of Reise, Reise and Rosenrot? **

Paul: Because we thought it would be a shame to use the cover only for the Japanese edition.+++

**MafiUndomiel: There are many bands that edited DVD and VHS with the footage they got when they recorded their albums, the creative process and all that stuff. Since many R+ fans are really interested in knowing "Rammstein's kitchen", have you considered releasing something of that kind?

** Paul: I filmed some of the footage during Reise, Reise and it will come out sometime on a DVD as bonus material.+++

**blastedop: What happened to Live DVD? It was delayed? **

Paul: Yeah a little bit, but we're going to try to do it this year.+++

**MafiUndomiel: I wanted to know how did you put your setlists together when you go to a country you've never been... you mix old and new material, or you prefer to show your new material above all, and play only the "classics"? **

Paul: We play a mix of both old and new.+++

**Jenna: As you are possibly the most successful band from Germany (singing in German) that you are expected to represent German music and culture to the rest of the world? **

Paul: It was never our plan to play all over the world.

Paul: Sometimes we wonder ourselves how this all happened.+++

**beurgueur: what american film director would you enjoy to make a ckip with **

Paul: Tarantino.+++

**Benzramm: Did you ever get hurt when you were working with fire on the live acts ? **

Paul: Sometimes.+++

**aeon: One Rammstein member said you had a movie project with Werner Herzog. Do you think this project will be carried out and would you like to act in something different from Rammstein videos ? **

Paul: It's been awhile with WErner herzog. Maybe it will work out, there's still a plan to do it.

Paul: +++

**Rammsteinizied: Dear Paul: What is your favorite live performance effect? (like the flamethrowes in Feuer frei or the bow in DRSG) **

Paul: The nose flame throwers that we use in Feuer frei!+++

**MafiUndomiel: Which was your first guitar? Do you still own it? **

Paul: It was a Telecaster copy. A cheap one. I gave away my first guitars at an auction for a good cause. No idea whether it worked out.+++

**Straya: This has been in my mind for a while now, and I must ask. From the sample songs on the official site, it seems Rosenrot might be your 'hardest/loudest' albums, the songs seem 'hard', in a way, like Ich Will, Feuer Frei, and Mein Teil; what do you think of this? **

Paul: I don't think so. There are fewer sequences so the guitars come out better.+++

**Synthema: Do you still feel that being in Rammstein is almost like being in a six-way marriage? Does the band still function as a tight a unit or have things drifted apart? **

Paul: Yeah.

Paul: We're still together. Knock on wood. We've been together for 10 years and now that we've gone through our crisis, we feel better than ever.

Paul: We've got money, success, beautiful women and all the rest.

Paul: Things can only get worse.+++

**Jenna: Do you think your videos help to stop you taking yourselves too seriously? **

Paul: We've always taken ourselves less seriously than many people think. our best friends know this.

Paul: At the moment, we don't feel like making any humouress videos.+++

**whiskeypapa: When writing a song, how many/what kinds of revisions does the song go through before finally making it onto an album? **

Paul: Some songs make it out directly as we conceived them. With other songs, we make 20 versions and they still don't make it.

Paul: +++

**Noora: HI! I'm a fashion and design student from Finland and I was wondering about your stage costumes...How much do you participate in the designing and making of the outfits that you use on your tours? I understand that every album has its own look. Do you first design the outline of the look as a band and hen consult a designer and maker? Thanx and welcome back to Finland! :)**

Paul: Most ideas come directly from the band. For the last outfit, we had the idea to combine Bavarian folkloric outfits with industrial.

Paul: Because Bavarian folklore is not very cool and we like to mix things that you're not supposed to.+++

**Beurgueur: Have you ever thought in what your life would be now if rammstein never was created?**

Paul: No. We don't think that way.+++

**minx: It’s been stated in several interviews that the band has two pyromaniacs in the group, but is there anyone who is not so fond of fire?**

Paul: Everybody in the band has a different specialty.

Paul: Each of us is really equally important.

Paul: It doesn'T matter what each does, it could be better when two are on vacation during preparation and actually help us to make a good video this way.+++

**Badeend: Who thinks of the titles of the cd's? Is it some kind of democraty or is it 1 man that decides?**

Paul: We make the decision as a group but it's not really a democracy. More like a board of directors.+++

**Biz: How have older industrial bands (such as Laibach or KMFDM) influenced you?**

Paul: A lot.

Paul: Also Ministry.+++

**minx: What is the oily black/brown liquid that you are all covered with on stage? Is it a fire retardant liquid?**

Paul: No.

Paul: That's a secret.+++

**minx: Why did you wear a paper bag over your head at the concert in Tallin, last November?**

Paul: I wanted to display an Iraqi prisoner.

Paul: There's a photo of a guy behind barbed wire and he's holding his son but he has a bag on his head.

Paul: That photo really had an impact on me.+++

**aeon: Why do you only do signing sessions in London and Paris? Why not in other big cities f Europe or even Germany? Or is anything planned? **

Paul: Actually we've only planned for Paris. London snuck in at the last minute.

Paul: I don't know any more signing sessions details right now.+++

**Badeend: Did you take gitar lessons or did you teach it on your self?**

Paul: Self-taught.

Paul: +++

**minx: I am going to be at the signing in London on Sunday. Do you enjoy doing those types of promotional events or are they just ‘hard work’?**

Paul: Sometimes it's a lot of fun but other times it can be exhausting.+++

**Synthema: It could be said that the "Rosenrot" photos are quite a departure image-wise from what one would expect from the band. Was this something that was decided by the band for a particular reason, or is this the sort of decision that is out of your hands? Does your management or record label have much control over how you present yourselves, or is that left to you?**

Paul: We don't like to repeat ourselves.

Paul: Usually the band always has the last word on these amtters. But weR'e not always interested in all of the details.+++

**Badeend: What is the new instrument you used in the song Te Quiero Puta?**

Paul: Trumpet.+++

**beurgueur: do you think you'll be on stage again when you'll be 60? (like rolling stones for example...)**

Paul: Hopefully somebody will die first. Then we won'T have to worry about that.+++

**minx: Do you do you all do own make-up for the shows?**

Paul: Yes.+++

**OK-River: Will Rammstein play again "Bück Dich" in a concert, or it is something of the past?**

Paul: I wouldn't say no.+++

**blastedop: Rosenrot is so diferent from Reise Reise. How is this possible if these songs are from Reise Reise recording season?**

Paul: I don'T think so. Listen to the whole album.+++

**Benzramm: Are you a sort of scared when flake is going with his boat in the public ? **

Paul: No.

Paul: But it was always Oli last year.+++

**whiskeypapa: Which of your songs invokes the most emotion from you?**

Paul: Seemann.+++

**MsBehaviour: Greetings from Finland and good evening! My question is, you have been playing together as a band for quite a many years now, and there is a big difference in the sound of Herzeleid and the sound of Reise Reise. Does this "evolution" come naturally to you, or do you make conscious decisions as to where to direct your sound? How do you feel about the change?**

Paul: There are some of us who want to stay the same.

Paul: There's some of us who want to always change.

Paul: These parties fight each other and the result is a new album or a black eye.+++

**MafiUndomiel: Have you heard a cover version of Keine Lust made by a Russian guy called Miguel? What did you think about it?**

Paul: Not yet, unfortunately.+++

**Badeend: Do you have a private jet or do you have to rent a plane?**

Paul: When the record company pays, we fly Business. When we have to pay, it'S Tourist class. Sometimes, when the connections are difficult, we rent a litlle jet.+++

**luna: First "Snow White" now "Rose Red". Do the members of Rammstein have a fondness for fairytales?**

Paul: Who doesn't?+++

**Synthema: Do you still enjoy performing live after all these years, or is it more of a chore now?**

Paul: If we didn't like it, we wouldn't have been around so long.+++

**Benzramm: Is there a double meaning in the songtexts of your songs ? **

Paul: Yeah. But the subtleties and double-meanings get lsot in translation.+++

**Badeend: What is your favorite song or cd?**

Paul: Kill Bill 1.+++

**DRS2G: Is "Hilf Mir" inspired by a Heinrich Hoffmann's tale?!**

Paul: Yes.+++

**Synthema: Have you ever felt that the success of Rammstein has been a negative thing for you in your personal life? That it makes it difficult to decide who to trust and who not to?**

Paul: It is difficult to stay normal despite money and success.

Paul: We fight this on a daily battle but we usually win.+++

**Beurgueur: from a viewer: what guitar do you use for your c tuning, and what guitar does richard use for this?**

Paul: I play a Gibson Les Paul and Richard plays ESP guitars.+++

**Benzramm: Did you really go to the mountains for the videoclip "Ohne Dich"?**

Paul: Yes. The was the funnest video of them all.

Paul: The thin air up there was difficult.

Paul: I'm impressed by mountain climbers who go even higher.

Paul: It was difficult for our crew and us.+++

**MafiUndomiel: how did you and richard decided who was going to be lead and who rythm guitars?**

Paul: Good question.

Paul: We're both stubborn.

Paul: It's a fight every time but we're still doing alright up to now.

Paul: Actually, the winner is supposed to be the one who plays the best solo.+++

**Badeend: Do you still have to take guitar lessons to play better?**

Paul: No.+++

**blastedop: Do you visit fansites? How about a Top 10 Fansites in the official page?**

Paul: From time to time.+++

**Badeend: Why did you pick just that girl for the Texas vocal in Stirb nich vor Mir?**

Paul: It was our producer's idea.+++

**MafiUndomiel: Paul, is there any country that you´d like to visit or going on tour, and you haven´t yet? Why?**

Paul: Yes, we would love to go to Turkey, Mongolia, Iraq. We know we've got lots of fans there.+++

**Jenna: Which current musicians (Not youselves, I'm sorry) do you think are creating the best work at the moment?**

Paul: System of a Down, Muse, Snoop Doggy Dog, Eminem, Slip Knot, etc.+++

**Rammsteinizied: Dear Paul, How do you feel about us fans?**

Paul: It's an honour.+++

**Minx: Do you have a favourite guitar part in a particular song you really enjoy?**

Paul: +++

**DRS2G: Will "Rosenrot" be the 2nd single from your new album?!**

Paul: Yes.+++

**Straya: I'm wondering how this question has not come up yet... but, plenty of people are asking if you guys will tour in America and Canada. I don't mean for this to be one of those annoying questions. But, has anything be talked about?**

Paul: I'm certain that we'll tour North and South America with our next album.+++

**rammsteinuk: I read in a recent interview that there were some arguments within the band during the production of 'Mutter'. Have there been any more strong disagreements like this since?

**Paul: Thankfully not. There's always stress when six stubborn people meet, but nothing serious.+++

**minx: Most influential musician on yourself?**

Paul: Laibach, Ministry, Metallica, Nirvana.+++

**blastedop: Did you like Benzin video? Schneider didnt.**

Paul: I don't think it's that bad.

Paul: We've had three really good videos in a row, so it'S hard to keep the standards so high.

Paul: I'm glad that there's some variation, next time we'll improve.+++

**whiskeypapa: First, Reise Reise saw a "country moment" with Los, and now Rosenrot has Te Quiero Puta. If you could make a fusion of Rammstein and any other world music (for fun), what would it be?**

Paul: Yes, I interested in all combinations of things that don'T fit together.+++

**Biz: Are there any downsides to being famous?**

Paul: We're famous but we can still buy groceries in Berlin without bodyguards.

Paul: We've got nothing to complain about.

Paul: Our band is famous around the world but we still have normal lives, thank God.+++

**minty: Paul are you looking forward to the world cup next year? who will win?**

Paul: Yes. It doesn'T look good for Germany right now.

Paul: I hope that a miracle happens.+++

**aeon: Do you hope your music will still be appreciated in many years from now or it doesn't matter to you ?**

Paul: I think that we're relatively timeless.

Paul: But that'S probably what every band thinks and two years later nobody cares ...+++

**DRS2G: Was it good to be directed by Jonas Akerlund?!**

Paul: Yes, he's just a cool guy.+++

[fortuna-della-vedova]

rules.

I. this is a blog for an alternate version of the district attorney from who killed markiplier?, created by mark fischbach. i am not affiliated with markiplier in any way, shape, or form. what you see here is my own personal rendition of what is, fundamentally, a blank slate. nothing more. other egos may be referenced on occasion -- wilford, primarily, as rose is one of his two assistants -- but the primary focus of this blog will highlight the district attorney, and them only.

II. this blog is strictly sfw, no exceptions. suggestive content and jokes are fine, but that is the furthest extent i will allow. should i find you attempting to initiate anything beyond my boundaries, you will be blocked accordingly.

III. you may send in asks of all types, including those not necessarily directed at rose herself -- theories, headcanons, drabbles, prompts, and the like are all welcome, if not encouraged. all ooc commentary will be punctuated with open-ended parenthesis, " (( like this " . please note that all responses to anonymous asks without a sign off or indication otherwise will default to second person, using gender-neutral language and pronouns.

IV. due to the nature of this specific version of rose, this blog is single-ship only. moreover, a queerplatonic relationship between rose, wilford warfstache, and z (my friend's district attorney) has already been preestablished in private and will be present throughout. as such, romantic asks will be promptly ignored, with one exception: i will only answer asks of a romantic nature if they concern damien.

V. rose has trauma relating to actor mark in particular. the details of which you are free to theorize about, but let this serve as your only warning: actor marks are free to interact, but i cannot guarantee that rose will react kindly. whatever she may say or do, please do not take it personally.

VI. i will tag triggering content to the best of my ability, but if i happen to miss something by mistake, please do let me know! however, as rose is a victim of emotional trauma, themes of psychological manipulation, gaslighting, self-depreciation, and PTSD will be present throughout. additionally, a universal trigger warning for body horror of varying types is in order, due to the fact that while she's been freed from the mirror, she is still without a body -- so in moments of distress, they'll lose control of their form and become horrifically unstable.

VII. if your ask has made me uncomfortable for any reason, i am well within my rights to delete it without explanation. depending on the severity of my discomfort, i may bar you from interacting with me by blocking you entirely, and such content will be added to a 'do not ask' list to prevent it from happening again in the future. however, tumblr is still rather finicky -- so if you believe your ask has not violated any of the rules stated here and yet has been ignored by me, you're more than free to reach out to me directly or send in something else!

VIII. anons who wish to be known may sign-off their asks with any emoji of their choosing, and in turn i will create a tag to match. if you want to know which sign-offs are taken, please refer to the anon tag list. all taken tags will be listed there.

IX. due to my inconsistency, the primary form of interaction for this blog will be asks, as they are easier to manage. reblog threads will be scarce and must be discussed with me beforehand.

so far, my tag list is as follows:

` ✧ ࿐ the pleasure’s all mine ; asks.

` ✧ ࿐ a secret admirer ; anons.

` ✧ ࿐ do you hear its whispers? ; ooc.

` ✧ ࿐ unsaid vows ; the mun’s work.

` ✧ ࿐ eternal reprieve ; prompts.

` ✧ ࿐ our galleria rebuilt ; unrelated work.

` ✧ ࿐ the ties that poison ; the actor.

` ✧ ࿐ forget me not ; damien / darkiplier.

` ✧ ࿐ a very special guest ; any other egos.

` ✧ ࿐ your soul is yet to be lost ; wilford.

` ✧ ࿐ there is light after all ; z.

[insomniamamma]

Liminal: Ezra and Cee

A/N: Contemporary AU in which Ezra becomes his niece, Cee's caretaker after an automobile accident kills his brother, Damon, and costs him his arm. Same AU as "Ferris wheels are for old people." No reader insert character, just Ezra and Cee on the road. Written for @autumnleaves1991-blog​ ‘s Writer’s Wednesday.

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma/injury. Drug references in a song. Some language. I tried to research body powered transhumeral prosthetics to get some idea of how Ezra's prosthetic arm might work, but then I fell into an overthinking morass, any inaccuracies are mine.

"Willin'" is written by Lowell George. The version referenced in the story is recorded by Linda Ronstadt.

lim·i·nal /ˈlimənl/

adjective: liminal

   1.relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process.    2.occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold.

--"Willin'"--

          "’... been warped by the rain, driven by the snow,’" Cee sings along with the music rattling through the truck's speakers, "I'm drunk and dirty, don't you know. But I'm still willin'..."

        The road stretches long and straight in front of them, harsh, rust-colored land dotted with scrub under the arc of an impossibly blue sky. Ezra asked Cee to compile the playlist. You are my co-pilot for this mission, he'd told her, and as such your duties include, but are not limited to, navigator, snack supervisor and DJ. DJ? Really? Make us a playlist, Little Bird, every adventure needs some good road music. And she had really delivered.          "’...Out on the road late last night, I'd see my pretty Alice in every headlight, Alice, Dallas Alice...’"  Ezra'd expected hours of auto-tuned pop or loud screamy music where he couldn't understand the words, and while there was some of that, Cee had taken her duties as DJ very seriously, creating a huge genre-bending list that all worked together.

     He knew a lot of it. When he was still weird Uncle Ezra and not Legal Guardian Ezra, Cee made a habit of pawing through his vinyl collection when she and Damon would visit, picking a record to play and then peppering him with questions about it. Still, some of the tracks she picked surprised him, like this one, Linda Ronstadt's version of "Willin'" a road trip anthem if there ever was one, but something he didn't expect Cee to be familiar with.  On their first go through the playlist, he'd asked her, where'd you hear this one, Birdie? You remember that movie, The Abyss? It's in that movie, the director's cut though, not the theatrical cut, the theatrical cut is bullshit--and he'd just listened to her go off about all the things wrong with the theatrical cut, the movie itself he barely remembered, something about divers finding aliens underwater, he'd listened and grinned, Cee could go so quiet sometimes. It was always a relief to hear her sound alive and interested, especially after--          "’And I've been from Tucson to Tucumcari," Cee sings and Ezra joins her, "Tehachapi to Tonopah...’" Cee's voice is sweet. Ezra's voice is not, but that's never stopped him. They've got the windows down. The AC started smelling funny a couple days ago, and, in this part of the world, a breeze to evaporate the sweat is just as good as AC. Cee's hair makes a flyaway halo as they sing--          "’Driven every kind of rig that's ever been made, Driven the backroads so I wouldn't get weighed. And if you give me...’" Ezra and Cee smile at each other, suck in deep breaths for the big chorus, "’...Weed, whites and wine, and you show me a sign...And I'll be willin' to be movin'"

--Petroglyph--

       The rust colored forms on pale stone walls peer out at them. Some loom large in the foreground, others recede into the background as if the weathered rock is a portal a window into some other place that lives just below the skin of the world. The back of Ezra's neck prickles. Sometimes the world is thin. Sometimes he feels as if there is a larger world moving and shifting beneath the surface of this one. Sometimes he feels like things are happening out of order, reality stripping and skipping like a loose bicycle chain--        Cee's warm hand creeps into his, "They're a little scary, aren't they?" She says.        "Indeed they are," says Ezra, "One has to wonder what they were thinking. What they were trying to say. Are these gods in these pictures? Or just regular men?"        "Does it matter?" Asks Cee, and he jerks his head to look at her. She is utterly entranced by the red figures and sigils.        "Of course it does," he says, "You don't think so?"        "I mean, it matters, I guess, but what matters more is that people made these," she says, "People like us. People with hands. Not that Ancient Aliens bullshit." Ezra laughs. Cee squeezes his hand.        "C'mon," she says, "let's see more."

--Rest Stop--

       "Hey MOM!," a child's voice snaps Ezra out of his reverie. Cee is in the truck stop, using the restroom and restocking their snack supply. At these stops he fuels up and then gives her some cash and sets her loose inside. And then they stretch their legs and sit outside for a spell. Ezra sits at a picnic bench letting the sun hit his closed eyelids, "MOM! That guy's got a ROBOT ARM! Like WINTER SOLDIER!" Ezra opens his eyes to a little boy, maybe four with a bunch of curly hair and big eyes, pointing at him.        "Daniel!" His mother hisses, and pinches at his arm, "That's rude. I'm so sorry. Danny, what did I tell you about staring--"        "Ma'am? It's quite alright, Ma'am," says Ezra, and hunkers down so he's eye level with the little boy.        "Hi there," he says, "Daniel, is it? I'm Ezra." He offers his right arm, the double hook at the end open, titanium alloy padded with silicone. Daniel solemnly grips the hooks and shakes.        "You've got stickers!" Says Daniel, and for a second Ezra is confused, and then he grins, looking down at the bedecked black plastic of his prosthesis. He stands.        "My girl decided that I must have a sticker for every state we stop in," says Ezra, he stands and smiles at Daniel's mom, "Like an old steamer trunk. I'm afraid I didn't catch your name--"        Cee steps out of the air-conditioned cavern of the truck stop, slits her eyes against the brightness of midday sun glittering up from the concrete, plastic bags full of crap-snacks and energy drinks threaded over her arms. Ezra handed her a couple twenties and told her to go nuts. Re-supply runs have turned into their own sort of game. She always grabs the usual stuff, chips and Snickers bars and Paydays (Ezra has an absolute weakness for Paydays. They don't taste like they used to, he'd griped, but that didn't stop him from eating them), but somewhere along the line, Cee decided to turn this into a battle of the wills. Her unspoken mission is to find something so utterly weird at one of these stops that Ezra won't eat it. So far, she has been unsuccessful. The closest thing was an aloe juice and cucumber drink that smelled amazing, but felt like swallowing cold snot. That one was a draw. She has high hopes for the dill pickle-sriracha gummy worms nestled in the bottom of the bag. The packaging looked like Christmas in hell. More important than the snacks is the plain, flat paper bag she holds.                                                                                     Ezra's near the picnic benches chattering at some lady with a kid. Menace, she thinks, but smiles. Ezra was always the extrovert before, and it's good to him smiling so big and open in the sunshine, making friends with random people at a truck stop. She sees an echo of her and him before, when she and Dad would visit when she was small and he'd tell her some outrageous tale and she'd say Uncle Ezra, you're so weird, and he'd scoop her up and swing her around, planting a prickly kiss on her cheek and saying oh, little bird, you have no idea, and this always made Dad laugh.

       "Oh, Ez-ra," Cee calls, and when he turns, he sees her devilish grin, holding a small brown paper bag up beside her face like it's contraband, "Look what I found."         "So I get to witness the sacred stickering?" Asks Ezra's new friend.        "Indeed you do," says Ezra, "This is Cee. Cee, meet Jody, and that little man playing in the dirt there is Daniel."        "Nice to meet you," says Cee, "Stick your arm out, old man."        "Don't you want to document this momentous occasion?"        "Oh, right," Cee pulls out her phone, "Hey, uh, miss Jody? Can you take some video? I got it all set up."        "Cee is documenting our adventures for posterity," says Ezra. He extends his prosthetic, already covered in overlapping ovoids, enough that they are starting to resemble dragon scales, "What do you think?" Cee and Daniel circle round.        "How bout here?" asks Daniel, tapping just above the articulated elbow.        "That's a good spot," says Cee and peels the sticker from it's backing with a flourish. She smiles up at her phone recording in a stranger's hand, "We have now infiltrated the state of Nevada," she grins, "Evil-doers beware."        "Yeah!" Says the little boy, pudgy hands planted on his hips for the benefit of the camera, "Or Winter Soldier will KICK YOUR ASS!"        "Daniel!"

--Stars--

       Cee wakes in the dead of night, disoriented, a darkness so thick that for a moment she's not sure where she is, and then she hears Ezra's rhythmic snoring off to her side, reaches out and brushes fabric of the tent and lays back, puzzled, muscles pleasantly sore from a day spent scrabbling up and down eroded granite boulders that looked like they belonged on Mars or Tatooine, walking trails and marveling at the strange ecology of the high-desert, so unlike back home. Bad dream? She wonders, probably. She feels her eyes getting heavy, feels herself lulled by Ezra's sleep sounds, snores punctuated by mumbles. Sometimes full sentences, his side of whatever dream-conversation he's having. Probably has no idea he does it--        Cee sits bolt upright, hands clutched in fists against her chest, a high-pitched wail cuts the cold night, a sound like a woman screaming, and another wail threads through the first, so loud it could be right outside the tent, and then a sound like gruesome laughter. The back of her neck prickles and her heart pounds in her throat. She tells herself that it's just some wild animal making noise, some desert bird maybe, but wasn't the California desert the last known home of the Manson family? Maybe not this desert, but still--        "Ezra," she hisses, and he mumbles something incoherent, "Ezra, wake up!" She reaches and pokes him hard, "Ezra!"        "Whazzit birdie?"        "Listen!" The screams rise and fall again like something from a horror movie.        "s'just coyotes," says Ezra, "probly next county over. They don't hurt people, they're just loud."        "You sure?"        "Go back to sleep, Cee."

       "Ezra," He's dreaming, some place with Joshua trees the size of skyscrapers, spiked limbs under a red sky. Cee's with him somewhere in the bloodlight but he can't see her, just hears her calling--        "Ezra!" He blinks awake, the red sky receding. Cee is shaking him.        "Yuh. M'awake birdie,"        "I gotta pee," she says.        "You know where the outhouses are, just right down the trail,"        "I'm not going by myself! Not with those things out there!" Ezra pushes himself up and shakes his head, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He can just make out Cee's form against the faint light of the sky leaking through the tent.        "Alright, just gimme a second," he says.        "I'll get the light,"        "We don't need it," he says.        "Ez-"        "We got night eyes now," he says, "No light pollution out here. You'll see."

       Ezra stands transfixed in the chill dark, head cocked upward. The more he looks, the more he can see. More stars than he's ever seen in his life spread across the vast inverted bowl of the sky, no summer haze out here, no light-wash from streetlights. He is dizzy with it, the vast sweep of the sky, and as he stares and his eyes adjust further, he can see the arm of the Milky Way angled across the black, can actually see the dark band of dust threaded through the silver-blue light. He doesn't hear the outhouse door shutting, doesn't notice Cee beside him until she folds his hand into hers.        "Look up, Little Bird," he breathes and it feels like a prayer, his heart suddenly full, squeezing in his chest, Cee small and warm next to him.        "Oh, wow," she says, barely a whisper, "That's the Milky Way isn't it?" Tears blur the stars and fall hot against his cheeks.        "It is." He looks at her, her face upturned, cheeks and hair frosted in star shine, limning her eyes, her smile. They've lost so much, him and Cee, but they've gained each other, and that's not nothing is it?        "We're so small," says Cee, "Us. People. This whole planet. All of us. We're just a little dot." Ezra smiles in the dark, even as tears dry in his lashes. He squeezes her fingers in his.        "C'mon, let's get back in the tent before we freeze."

--Hoodoo--

       Cee sleeps in the passenger's seat. She'd helped break camp and pack everything up even though it was early for her. They had spent an extra night in Joshua Tree and now had to make up the difference. It's time to go home. There are things he wants to do before Cee goes back to school, things they need to take care of. So he woke them early, promising Cee that she could sleep in the car as long as she needed. She'd helped him get ready, half-peeling a couple candy bars and putting them were he could easily reach.        "You want the playlist?" She asked, "I can get it going."        "Not right now. I want some quiet."          “'Kay," and Cee was asleep before they were to the next mile marker.

       Hoodoos rise on either side of the highway, striated red cliffs against the slowly lightening sky, cut into improbable formations by long gone rivers, thin spires topped with boulders, first glints of sun hitting the higher cliffs while everything else still exists in that liminal space between day and night. Ezra glances over at Cee, hair in a messy halo, face slack in sleep, cheeks sun-reddened and newly freckled, closed eyes moving, dreaming. Ezra thinks of those first days, wracked with pain and trying to navigate the new, dark-shrowded territory of her and him, each of them crippled by loss, each willing to lash out at the other. Ezra thinks of how far they've come since then, uncurling like relaxing fists and learning to be with each other. They drive into the dawn and the first bit of light touches her hair, turning it to fire. She shifts in her sleep, turning away from that first hint of sun. He doesn't know if she's awake or not.        "I love you, Cee."        "Love you to, Ez," she murmurs and settles back into sleep. Ezra looks out over hoodoo country spread red tinged and stark against the rising light, the miles of road ahead. We're gonna be ok, he thinks and means it.

[crazygrower]

Sl8 platform review for our English-speaking friends

Disclaimer: Right now I am neither developer nor moderator or administrator of the Sl8 social cryptonetwork platform. However I have been using this network since its very beginning, so I can treat myself as a Sl8 experienced user. Something like a month ago I started to prepare a set of reviews about the platform's functionality. I live in Ukraine, so it is expected I wrote them in Ukrainian. But now I see English-speaking users are joining Sl8, so I decided to also write some reviews in English. They will be based on Ukrainian version, but also adapted to the international customers.

So, let's begin.

What does Sl8 mean?

There was a whole paragraph of explanation in the Ukrainian version of this text, for English-speaking community it will be much shorter (smiley) Sl8 = "S-l-eight" = "Slate". Yes, the acronym is pronounced as "Slate" and just means "a social network from the clean Slate". This phrase also a motto of Sl8 BTW )

One of the most noticeable differences between existing social networks and Sl8 is the presence of Layers. Layer is a very convenient tool for the posts' classification. In any other social network the user has one single news feed - like a huge bulletin board, which contains all the posts regardless of their topics. Family photos, cute cats and puppies, travels, news, worknotes - all mixed up. Yes, it is possible to use hashtags - it makes search a little bit easier, but doesn't solve the main "one and only bulletin board" problem. All your subscribers see all your posts and vice versa.

So Layers in Sl8 is an approach which divides this single board to multiple "thematic" ones. All you need is just create different Layers for different post topics, and then just define the proper Layer when posting. For example, your interests are animals, travels and experimental physics. You will create three separate Layers according to these layers. When you want to post your puppy's photo or photo of a raccoon you took in your backyard - do this in layer "Animals". Just visited Ukraine and want to share beautiful photos of our country? Use the "Travels" layer. Your team created a material which is superconductive near 20 Celsius? Tell all of us about this in the "Physics" layer (and don't forget to apply for the Nobel prize).

Your future subscribers will be able to subscribe either to your account as a whole or to your specific Layers. If somebody likes cats and travels but is indifferent to physics - he will subscribe to your "Animals" and "Travels" layers. Another one doesn't like racoons (yes, this is hardly possible, but just imagine) but eagerly waiting for the results from your lab - he will subscribe to the "Physics" layer only. Sl8 users will see in their feed only the information they choose - no algorithmic feeds anymore.

This works in the opposite direction too. As a user, you can subscribe to the separate Layers of other users and thus build your own feed. Yes, build it yourself, taking into account your preferences only, to see only what is interesting for you, and not what some algorithms decide. BTW - I publish all these reviews in the separate Layer too, if you subscribe to it - will see the Sl8-related information only, without my other posts.

For making life easy your first Layer is created automatically. Its name, description and image can be edited, so the layer can be used for whatever reasons. As an experienced user, I would recommend creating several Layers according to your future posts from the very beginning. BTW, it is possible to apply age restriction both for the particular post or for the whole layer (in case you'll want to post adult content).

How to create the layer? Tap on the portrait icon (rightmost one on the bottom toolbar) - you'll see the screen with your profile. On the "Layers" pane tap on the free square/rectangle (free ones marked as gray with "+" sign in the middle) - this will open the Layer Editor. Please fill the information related to this Layer and tap "Save". The new layer is created!

"Layers" pane is scrollable - try to drag it left or right. Right now there are seven possible slots for different Layers, the Sl8 developers promise for more...

Please don't forget to choose the proper one while creating the new post! Right now there is no way to change Layer once the post is created (this functionality is to be added later on).

Sorry for my English - as I wrote, my native language is Ukrainian. Will continue posting more information about Sl8 in English and also will be glad to answer the questions )

[reincarnatedladywarrior]

WHAT THE SOCIETY DON’T WANT US TO KNOW ABOUT LOVE

Free encyclopedias on the web would define love as a range of strong and positive emotional and mental states, from the most sublime virtue or good habit, the deepest interpersonal affection, to the simplest pleasure. But come and think of it, love is not an instinct. Love is a skill. And when we say skill, it needs to be learned. A skill that the society refuses to consider as a skill. We are meant to always follow our feelings. And if you keep following your feelings, you will certainly always commit big mistakes in your life. Who wants that? No one wants that. No one wants to end up with the wrong person. Nobody wants to feel like they have been sentenced to life imprisonment by marrying the wrong person.

Unfortunately, it is primarily because people tend to idealize love just like what fairy tale movies try to project on our screens ─ an image of a perfect love where there’s a king and queen living in a castle that is bound to have a happily ever after. But in real life, that’s definitely not always the case. Love is more than just a feeling or a mutual chemistry. It is to love someone with charity and generosity in interpreting someone’s behavior; a constant recognition of ambivalence between the good and bad traits that exist in human nature. Hence, while growing up, we tend to associate an ideal partner to the idea of a good person we have created in our minds from an unconscious attempt of assessing our parents and separating their nice and unpleasant characteristics. Then, we’ll make a pretty long list of good traits that we’re looking for, only the good ones of course. But by doing so, we tend to neglect the mere fact that bad traits are also included in the package. The truth is, a ‘perfect person’ don’t and never exist and is more like a conceptual theory postulated by blind hopeless romantics.

None of us are perfect and we don’t need be perfect to love and be loved. The demand for perfection will lead you to only one thing ─ loneliness. So, one should not find a perfect person to be happy but a perfect person to suffered with in a familiar way that will help you define what genuine happiness really means. Because whether we like it or not, at some point in our lives, everyone will hurt us and all we need is to find someone worthy of the pain that is intertwined with loving. You cannot have perfection and company at the same time because to be in a company with another is negotiating imperfection every day.

Meanwhile, sulking seems to be a reflection of people’s desire to be understood by another individual. Because that’s how love was taught and how we think love should be ─  filled with understanding. That’s right but on its own detriment that’s also the reason why when a person doesn’t understand us, we get disappointed, sad or in rage. We shouldn’t expect someone to read our minds and do something that we wanted them to do for us then invalidate their feelings when they don’t act a certain way that we wanted them to behave. Love requires open communication and a cycle of giving and getting; not only an absolute selfless act of kindness towards another being. Because without communication only endless catastrophe awaits.

On the other hand,  it is also crucial to take note that love is not all about gifting someone all sorts of nice things that you could offer, although it’s considered as one of many love languages out there. On top of all of that, to love is to be a teacher and a learner. ‘If-you-love-me, you-should-accept-all-of-me’ line should be stigmatized as a sign of true love. True love is not just about accepting the way your lover is. It is accepting the truth that love has a role of transforming one another to become the best version of themselves to maintain a healthy relationship. Having said that, it’s a little ticklish but one should learn how to accept the fact that when someone tells you something about yourself, they’re not attacking you. They’re trying to make you a better person and we don’t normally believe that because it hurts our pride to actually take a look inside ourselves to find the truth…that the other person wants to educate us and it isn’t a criticism. Criticism is merely a wrong word to apply to a much nobler idea which is to try to make us better but we tend to reject this idea very strongly. Not unless it’s nothing but a below the belt statement or an insult in disguised of a joke, well then stand your ground. But sometimes you have to bear in mind that an angry person is not always what they see to appear, some of them are secretly and deeply sad pessimists. And this only further emphasizes someone’s need to hone behavioral interpretative skill in order to love properly.

Incompatibility, we are all incompatible but it’s the work of love to make us graciously accommodate each other and each other’s incompatibilities. Therefore, incompatibility is an achievement of love; it’s true love that make us gradually accept the need to be compatible.

We all have types. And we can’t probably change our types. Many of us might have certain types who are going to cause us real problems. They may be too distant, arrogant or going to torture us in some way. And your friends would casually say, cut him/her out of your life he\she’s not good for you. Realistically speaking, you cannot manage your type, let’s take that for granted but there’s an achievement here as well. It is to change how you characteristically respond to your tricky type. Most of us have formed how we respond to our tricky types in early childhood. For instance, we have a distant parent which matches to a distant lover…when we were very young, we respond to that distant parent by attention-seeking…we rattled and banged. And now we’re adults we rattle and bang in our own way. And we think it’s going to help but it doesn’t. It creates a vicious cycle that won’t get us anywhere. It is open to us to have a more mature response to the challenges that the types of people that you’re attracted are going to pose for us. And that’s an immense achievement. One thing that we can do is to recognize the inability to compromise ─ one of the shameful things that we have to admit… “This is my partner, I’ve compromised…in choosing them I’ve compromised.” “Why you’ve compromised?” “Well, I’m not that attractive myself. I’ve got lots of problems. I’m a bit naughty. Frankly, I can’t pull anyone better but they’re very nice…they’re okay.” Now, you would think loser, but that’s not true. Compromise is noble. We compromise in every area of life and there’s no reason why we shouldn’t compromise in our love life. Maybe some parents are just sticking around for the children…good! And we’ll say, “Oh, they’re just sticking around for the children.” That’s a wonderful reason to stick around, for what else they’re going to stick around. Let’s look benevolently in the art of compromise as a massive achievement in life.

Notably, a Danish Philosopher Soren Kierkegaard had a wonderful outburst where he basically said, of course you’re going to marry the wrong person and make the wrong decisions in a whole row of areas. And the reason why you’re going to do this is because you’re a human. Therefore, do not berate yourself for doing what humans do. This is what he said, “Marry, and you will regret it; don’t marry, you will also regret it; marry or don’t marry, you will regret it either way. Laugh at the world’s foolishness, you will regret it; weep over it, you will regret that too; laugh at the world’s foolishness or weep over it, you will regret both. Believe a woman, you will regret it; believe her not, you will also regret it… Hang yourself, you will regret it; do not hang yourself, and you will regret that too; hang yourself or don’t hang yourself, you’ll regret it either way; whether you hang yourself or do not hang yourself, you will regret both. This, gentlemen, is the essence of all philosophy.”

[lambourngb]

he’s got a smart mouth but a good heart - Michael Guerin

It’s Day 2, celebrating characters, and much to my own surprise, at the end of season 2, Michael Guerin decided to move into my brain and take up residence. Obviously I still love Alex Manes (He lives first and foremost in my brain since 1x08), but there was something about how Michael buried his own pain about his mother to help everyone in season two that rang pretty true to my own life right now. I didn’t always like what he was doing in season 2 but I understood it.

Anyway, when I find a story that celebrates how complicated he is, I cheer and rejoice- so here’s a few of the stories that I have gone back to again and again.

Truck stop knives and other assessors of childhood @angsty-aliens (13,200) I can’t lie, I love a good trope story, and I especially love a good sci-fi trope story, so this story hits all of my buttons. It takes our two science nerds, Liz and Michael, mucking around, and accidentally creating a version of Michael- but not just any version, but the child who hitchhiked to Fosters ranch, completely over humans and desperate to find his family. The kid who was feral from neglect and abuse... he was the cutest thing and the most mortifying thing that ever happened to Michael to be displayed and shown. This story takes the de-aged trope and turns it on its head, and oh yeah, there’s a sweet backdrop to Michael and Alex getting together.

Implicit Memories of You by @ninswhimsy (3464) - So this is an amnesia story canon-divergent story set after 2x11 basically, where they use the mind erasing drug on Michael. I know, I’m reccing this about Michael characterization, but it’s so solidly him after all the memories are stripped away and he’s acting on instincts, locked in a room to torture Alex with before death. There’s so much going on in so few words, something that Nin is a master at, especially the ephemeral remembrances of his mother that Michael has- oof right in the feels.

Maybe this time (he’ll stay) by @hannah-writes​ (7700) This is a sequel to one of my favorite stories I recced last year, dealing in alternative timelines where in one world, Michael is lost and alone and has pushed Alex away, and in another world where Alex came home from Iraq in a flagged draped coffin. It answers the question, what about Mikey? Where’s his happy ending? The confirmation of the multiverse means there’s an Alex out there who needs him- and through trial and error, Michael finds him. The world building in both stories is top notch, because for every action, there’s a reaction and reason shaping Michael.

Constant as the northern star by celzmccelz (53,000) - don’t know the tumblr here - This is an Mpreg, and it starts solidly after 1x13 and goes AU from there. But what if in the 100 mile drive home from Caulfield, Michael and Alex share a grief-induced moment of insanity where they fall back into their oldest language- sex for comfort, and then Michael does everything he does in the finale, including turning toward Maria, what if there was a souvenir? Despite the trope of mpreg, this is just how I see Michael, deeply in love with Alex but unable to trust that Alex feels the same depth in return. The friendships in here are also top-notch, from Kyle being a baby-doctor, to Isobel having her own Max-related spiral unable to let go of her brother only to refocus on Michael, to Liz fucking off with Rosa for the first half of the story because she’s caught up in her own grief (which turned out to be canon!). And there’s a whole plot here! With Jesse Manes being the worst.

Leave the light on by @sabrinachill​ (36,900) - Confession time- I love fake dating as a trope, I know, shocked right? But I especially love it with RNM because Malex are exes by 1x03. Mattie nailed the dynamic of pining and the assumption of unrequited love so well in this story. Although the POV switches here a bit between chapters, (and Alex is fabulous) what I really really loved was how she wrote Michael, in love but convinced that he’s messed up too much for Alex. Aware of his faults but not in a sullen way, but an acknowledgment that he was in a bad place and Alex hasn’t always been the best remedy him in the past. It was a very mature take on the “give me another chance” trope in Malex reunion stories, where both sides had a share of blame. The plot was suspenseful and tight (how do people do that???) with a climax that honestly shocked me! I really enjoyed rereading it while I prepped my rec-sets, and I won’t be surprised if this story isn’t mentioned by everyone doing ‘Creators Week’. It’s worthy of all the love.

Temporary wounds by @prouvaireafterdark​ (7800) - How many times can I rec this story? Hopefully you’re not bored by my adoration of this Lynne.  So even though it’s set post-season 1 with the assumption that Michael/Maria will fizzle out while Alex/Forrest date- it’s actually perfectly set for season 3 (an author who is psychic??). As a rule, I hate jealousy as a trope, but this story has the only type of jealousy I want to see on screen- where Michael wonders what was missing inside of him that Alex didn’t want to be public during their long affair (even with the acknowledgment that Alex was too scared before)- like that type of sad pining is my catnip!

The first who ever did by nostalijinks (33,000) post season 1, but really it also stands pretty well after season 2.  There was an interview during season 1 I think that talked about how all Michael really wanted was to be a hero to Alex (the way he stepped in front of Jesse as a kid)  but he thinks he failed at it since Alex enlisted. That failure soured him in ways but he never stops trying, for Alex. This is a really well done 5 times plus 1 story, with an overreaching arc of reconciliation between Alex and Michael, starting as teenagers, then as adults while Michael is with Maria, then as friends, real friends, trying to support Alex as Alex dates. The whole emotional journey of maturity that Michael takes here is so well done, where there’s no real villains in the friend group. I just love it. I wish the author had written 100 more like this one, but as a standalone work it’s epic.

The person that you’d take a bullet for is behind the trigger by @iwontbeyourmedicine​ (25,000) Ly has a very large body of work, that you could spend days paging through on AO3 or tumblr, but this one hits two of my kinks hard- the amnesia story line and true love conquers all. So three fandoms ago I was huge into Steve/Bucky, that iconic moment in Cap 2 where Bucky breaks through the brainwashing has never left me. This story takes my love for that moment, and makes it Malex. Alex gets programmed by his family and set loose on his friends, on the aliens and it’s a shitshow bloodbath since he’s really fucking good at kicking ass. Michael is caught between keeping everyone safe and trying not to hurt Alex, and the tension is just top-notch. I love how it’s not an immediate fix either, the way they circle each other in the aftermath, wanting to come home, but home would be a totally new step for both of them. Just chef’s kiss good at joining action, angst, and romance together.

Into the palm of your hand by @haloud​ (5900) hal is a treasured friend, so I am admitting some bias here, but we both enjoy talking about how wonderful and sad Michael is and how desperately we enjoy poking at that softness and then wrapping him up with love again... so this story was written pre-shamegate (and if you know what that means, I’m sorry) but it matches my head canon of what the history of hiding does to someone. The internalization of believing maybe there’s a reason behind the hiding that has nothing to do with homophobic townies. Alex has an ex boyfriend come to town, and he doesn’t tell Michael. And omg the journey hal takes us on with Michael’s spiral and Brave Little Toaster act was so wonderful and painful and real. The communication between these two was top notch as they worked through a road bump from the past, and let’s face it, once we get our malex back, these things are going to happen, and it will either tear them apart or bring them closer together- I prefer to believe it will be closer together.

There is beauty in a failure by @jule1122​ (2400) There’s been a few Greg and Michael stories to pop up on my radar after 2x10, and this one was one of my favorites. This is a Greg who pulls no punches in exposing his brother’s past to Michael, but also gives Michael the space to work through what he wants. It’s an AU from 2x12, that allowed Michael to break up with Maria for basically the same reasons that Maria used on him in 2x13. The way Michael is able to what he wants and communicate it Alex in the end- so good! We can only hope to see something similar in season 3.

I don’t know what to think (but I think of supernovas) by @queersirius​ (3900) This story is a delight from start to finish- I mean frustrated cursing turns the console on into a hologram who then takes the most pleasing form to Michael’s eyes? SIGN ME UP for those shenanigans. I fucking loved how Isobel saw it first too. And then the comedy of Alex discovering it? And what happens afterwards? Oh it’s so delicious. Now of course, full disclosure, this light-hearted romp through the feels also inspired me  to think up a much much sadder version of Michael building an AI for companionship considering how isolated he ended up being at the end of Season 2 and we all know Michael needs friends, badly.

Innuendo by the Roswell anon (6000) written for @bisexualalienblast​  the roswell anon is my favorite treasure in this fandom, I could pretty much list all of their stories as examples of some very fine Michael Guerin characterization. This one was one of my favorite post-season 1 fix-it fics though, because it has some of the most real 28-30 year old guy dialogue I’ve come across- from the crude jokes, to the sharply self-deprecating observations- this is Alex and Michael stripped down, all edges but what’s left is fatigue and love. The resolution at the end, where Alex observes that yes, Michael has tried the last 10 years but this is their first chance to try together- to pull in the same direction? It just lays me flat on the ground with how true that is to canon.

Whenever You Want to Begin, Begin by @foramomentonly (3200) - this is a sequel, and the first story is dynamite- don’t get me wrong- but it moves from the hopeful side of an ending to legit Happily-Ever-After here, and I devoured every word. First of all, having Michael turn to photography as a way of self-improvement is fucking genius. Photographers are always at the center of every happy event, but never the focus, and that screams Michael to me, the way he lives on the outskirts of the 9-5 job and literal outskirts of town in his trailer. The other thing is photographers are revealed by their work, and that’s also something I head-canon with Michael just in the mundane- he’s good with his hands, he wants to leave a car better than he found. Anyway, this story is gorgeously written, moves a bit like a really good bottle of wine- heavy but soft, as you watch Michael become Alex’s friend, and even more importantly, Alex becomes Michael’s friend. Fantastic- I’ve read it about four times now since it was published.

[static-fanatic-1]

Day Two

-| Stuck at A StandStill |-

StandStill: Chapter Three

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Foul Language, Bullying.

Komori didn't really appreciate being in second place. Out of everyone in his school he went against one of the weakest students, and yet he got second in a two person race.

That isn't something to be proud of.

And it made his blood boil to no end.

With a bubbling jealousy and a rough plan in mind, the second day of U.A would be the beginning of his call to action. Of course he had some help, another student who resented class 1-A. He was blond and had a stare that pierced daggers through anyone he looked at. He had a smile that called you an asshole and an attitude that was too envious even for Komori.

His name was Monoma, and he would help him finally break Aiko down. Once she's out of the way with a mind as malleable as clay, he'll be able to shape her into his ideal version of herself. It'll be easy, just a little bit of manipulation to do so.

Komori sauntered his way into the school. His uniform was loose and he didn't bother fixing the tie around his neck. As long as he has the components of his uniform the teachers won't bother him.

His plum eyes glanced around at the students piling into the school, each one different than the others. Some had spiraling blue hair and doe like eyes while others had fur like manes. Teeth, horns, tails and more created a mythical atmosphere while some people had mechanical parts attached to their limbs. Some people even looked normal, well as normal as someone can be in a quirk infested world.

The bat child wasn't paying attention, and his shoulder bumped into someone else. "Tsk, watch it." He growled, turning to face the kid beside him.

He was tall, about as tall as Komori minus his ears, and they both shared a pair of glasses. Though he smiled, nervously, a extended his hand in good fortune. "I'm sorry about that, I'll take better care in watching where I am going."

Komori's sharp teeth gleamed past his pink lips. "Yeah, whatever." He turned his body away and waved his wings behind his back to dismiss the other student. "Just stay out of my way."

Iida furrowed his brows and pursed his lips in a scowl. "What a... nice fellow." He whispered, watching the bat saunter further into the school. Iida pushes up his glasses and turned to his locker.

Behind him he could hear heavy breathing and the clatter of shoes. He turned and waved his hand, shutting his own locker in the process. "Hello Aiko! Are you alright?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah! I just woke up late." She brushed her curly pink bangs from her sweaty forehead.

"Late? You're early, there are fifteen minutes before the ten minute bell."

Aiko whipped her head around with a pause. "Wait, what time is it?"

Iida lifted his wrist and pulled back his sleeve. "It is five minutes past eight."

"Really?! My alarm must have been off." She lightly chuckled, it was nervous and stressed. "I'll have to fix that when I get home. Uh, how have you been, Iida?"

He smacked a hand onto his chest and happily smiled. "My day is going wonderfully so far! And you?"

Aiko blushed. "I'm doing good." She shut her locker and fixed her backpack. "I guess we should go ahead and head to class huh?"

"Of course! All the top students are early to class!" Iida grabbed Aiko's hand and dragged her to the classroom with a grin plastered onto his strong features.

The hallways were the most uncrowded Aiko has ever seen. Being so early meant most of the students hung out around the lockers, conversing about whatever came to mind. Most seemed to be second or third years, while a few were first years who wanted to know the ropes.

Iida stopped near the door, not exactly in front of it, but close enough to not raise suspicion. Though, she should have guess something was wrong with someone as meticulous as Iida.

She glanced past his broad shoulder and was greeted with a face full of leathery wings. "Oh look who it is. The twat and the slapper. Seems they don't care who gets into class 1-a."

Iida moved back a bit, kinda stumbling over Aiko in the process. "Twat? Slapper?" He furrowed his brows at the insults, wait, were they even insults?

"You heard me." Komori pushed, stretching out his large wings to size Iida up. "Twat." Plum eyes scanned the figure behind Iida, a toothy grin stretching across his lips. "And slapper."

Aiko bit her lip, now the time to grow a backbone, she thought. He can insult me as much as he wanted but insulting a friend was out of the question. 'Say something. Tell him off!'

"Are you just going to stand there, mouth open like a fish out of water?" He mused, sidestepping to face her fully. "Or are you too terrified?" He leaned down, sharp teeth only a few inches away from nipping at her nose.

"Leave her alone." Snapped Iida, placing a large hand upon the aggressors shoulder. "There is a zero tolerance for bullying at U.A."

"Tsk, like that matters." The bat shrugged off the hand with a scoff, turning his back and ruffling with wings once more. His thin tail swished behind his lanky form with a newfound vigor. As if he enjoyed the challenge despite being seemingly annoyed. "But seriously, this is what the legendary class 1-A has to offer? A kid who can run fast and some girl with a useless quirk? Where's the competition?"

"Leave us alone, Komori. If we aren't worth your time why are you wasting it?" Snapped Aiko, finally building a bit of a backbone.

Komori turned and glared, his signature grin now faltering into something of mixed surprise and malice. He didn't need words to tell her to shut her pretty little mouth.

The tension was high and the thickness of the air could only be cut through with a sharp blade. Luckily, it seemed Iida was that sharp blade. He placed a warm hand on the small of her back to support the backbone. "We'll be taking our leave." Iida's tone was sharp, strong and defensive, warning Komori to back off and leave them alone before things get too ugly.

Komori watched with a malevolent glare through his shimmering glasses. "Just needed to make sure you knew your place."

The two students of class 1-A watched the bat walk away, his figure disappearing behind the doorframe of the class over. There was a pregnant silence between Aiko and Iida as they entered their classroom.

They were the only ones so far, so they stood next to each other and soaked in the new student they met. "Aiko, May I ask you a question?"

She hummed in approval, placing her bag down and giving him her undivided attention.

"Komori... do you know him?"

"Oh, yeah. We went to the same school ever since we were kids. He... always bullied me. I'm kind of used to it by now." She gave a small chuckle and avoided eye contact. Instead she decided her sketchbook cover was far more interesting than Iida's concerned eyes. "I wouldn't worry too much about him. He's all bark no bite."

Iida has never been bullied, at least not to his face. Every once in a while in middle school, a student would talk about him behind his back. Thing like his strange body language, intelligence, or physical appearance. He never thought too much about it, only that they must be jealous of his hard work. Still, that doesn't mean it didn't hurt.

"Well, tell me if you have any problem then." His hand pointed to Aiko and a comforting smile stretched across his thin lips.

"Th-thank you. I appreciate it." She really did, it wasn't everyday someone would help her stand up to a past bully. It actually never happened, not even her past teachers did anything other than scolding Komori.

Iida sat down in his seat and awaited the start of class. She guessed the conversation was over. Though it didn't feel over, Aiko couldn't help but linger on the kindness from her classmate. His words echoed trough her head as she sketched away her future hero costume. She made a few changes from her current costume, some she actually liked, but she could do that once she goes big after school.

Once she became a hero, all of her problems would fade away to nothing. All she'll have to do is battle against her family's killer: All for One.

The door to the classroom opened, the green haired boy labeled Izuku shuffling into the room. More students entered, each one with their own gait.

Then there was the teacher, he really was a strange man. He still looked like a gruff cat of sorts with yellow goggles. The scarf around his neck hung loosely on top his slouched shoulders. In his hands was a small stack of papers, he straightened them up in the pedestal in front of the class and readied himself for the rest of the students.

Once class started, Mr. Aizawa cleated his throat and began. "Today I am going to give you the class syllabus. I would read it carefully and thoroughly, if you don't you will miss something important." He flipped to the back of one of the papers. "We will need your parent's signature and your own, as well as a class fee and other important information. Again, look over it completely. You need to turn it in by this Friday."

~~~

Nothing too important happened, introductions, classes, teachers. Some were eccentric like the Voice Hero Present Mic, and some were... R-rated like Midnight.

Still, Aiko was giddy with excitement. She would be taught by heroes! Professional heroes! The young girl couldn't help but bounce her leg beneath her desk, tap her pencil on her sketchbook, and nibble her lip between her teeth.

She dug her hands into her backpack to fish out her binder. One section for each class, right now with different syllabuses and paperwork. She already took out her pen and signed everything, so she just had to ask Ms. Takahashi to do her part.

Aiko wasn't too focused on the door, well, until it burst open with s gust of wind. "Hahaha! Hello there!"

Everyone jumped from their seats with a newfound vigor, yelping and jumping with smiles that rivaled his own. All Might! In class 1-A! "All Might!" Even Aiko couldn't handle her excitement!

He continued to chuckle, swaying his way inside with Aizawa and shutting the door behind him. "Hello young heroes! I would introduce myself but I'm sure you already know who I am! Number one hero-" he turned to his side and flexed his muscles to the class "ALL MIGHT!!"

Out of everyone in the class, no one was as excited as Aiko. Even that kid with the freckles and green hair had nothing on the beaming smile and jumping Aiko was doing. She couldn't help it! All Might was more than her hero! He was kinda like a messiah for anyone in the Hero community! And Aiko was becoming a hero!

"This year will be an eventful one, as I have decided to help train the new generation of aspiring heroes!" He returned to standing straight and tall, towering over everyone in the room. He set his fists on his hips and continued. "I, as well as all the other teachers, will do our best to mold you into fine, young heroes! Bravery! Integrity! Compassion and hope are all necessary for someone to be the best hero they can be!”

He threw his head in a cheerful laugh, the entire class clapping from the small speech. All of them would become heroes and nothing would stop them! Aiko couldn't help the rush of excitement either!

All Might evaluates the class, each one a rising hero with promise. Finally, his eyes landed on Midoriya, and his smile grew just a bit more, yeah, he chose one good successor!

"Hurry up, All Might." Aizawa pushes, moving to his desk and tapping away on his computer.

"Right right." The number one rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry. Anyways, I have your syllabus' right here for my class. I will read most of it out, the important stuff at least, and then I'll ask you a question I would like you all to answer. So, let begin shall we?"

All Might, with his theatrical voice, wasn't the best at reading out loud. He stuttered more than any other teacher, and Aiko couldn't get past the funny tone he always wore. Imagine an over exaggerated, comedy relief character trying to read something serious. It's more entertaining than anything.

"Finally, the question I want to ask all of you is, what do you think makes a good hero?"

Iida raised his hand first, his entire body leaning up to the roof. Momo was the same, her hand stretched high above her head and even higher against all the other classmates. Though, All Might seemed to be a bit nicer to the shyer students, his first choice was a kid in the back with white and red hair, and a scar across his right heterochromia eyes.

"Go on, introduce yourself first, then answer the question."

All eyes took in the student in the back, his body shriveled and his hand slowly dipping down to his side. His face portrayed a different story, instead of being reserved and shy, there was a hint of distaste as his brows furrowed together. "My name is Todoroki Shoto, and I believe what makes a good hero is someone who protects people. Someone who doesn't hurt others needlessly, and instead helps them when they need it."

Aiko glanced back at All Might, the cryptic message seemed to make the number one hero uncomfortable. Weird.

"Of course! A good hero always puts others before themselves, and makes sure the masses are safe against villain attacks!" He moved on to the next student, the infamously pissed blond who seemed to not care at all given his posture. "And what about you?"

"Bakugou Katsuki," he introduced, springing up from his chair when he began the second part. "What makes the best hero is being on top! Winning and taking down useless villains!"

All Might stuttered. "We-well of course winning against villains is important! But winning isn't exactly what makes a hero. It is important to think of victory as a means to save as many civilians as possible." The pro hero moved on to another student, then another one, and another one, until he landed on Aiko.

She didn't even realize her hand was up, too excited to even think correctly. Her bright features dulled down, what was she going to say?! Revenge? Helping people like herself? That'd defiantly get Mr. and Mrs. Takahashi in trouble... they would hate that.

"My name is Takahashi Aiko and I think what makes a good hero is... helping people who can't help themselves. Through anything, like helping the elderly cross the street or helping someone with their homework."

All Might smiled. "That's a perfect example of what makes a good hero! Being a hero isn't always about fighting villains or saving civilians, it is also about being a good role model for the people who look up to you."

His theatrics didn't end when the bell rang, and he dashed out of the class with a strength matched by only one. Aiko was beyond excited, beyond proud! Talking in front of a class is difficult and she did it without any hiccups.

Seeing All Might, being brave, and making friends counts as a win in her book.

Iida wondered into view, his glasses falling slightly down his nose with a pleased grin. "Can you believe it?! All Might will be teaching us heroics! It's the chance of a life time!"

"Yeah!" Aiko began. "I can't believe it either! He's my hero."

"Mine too, I've always looked up to All Might. He's the world's best hero, there's no competition!" Iida finished collecting his things and waited, two more people wondering over. One was Uraraka, the cute brown haired girl with flushing cheeks. The other one was the green haired kid with cute freckles, Izuku maybe? "This is Uraraka and Izuku, we were in the same entrance exam."

Aiko gave a gentle smile. "Hi, I'm Aiko. I met Iida at my locker, his is across mine." She shrugged and stuffed her sketchbook into her back. "You guys can go ahead and get a table, I wanted to stay after class a few minutes."

"Sure!" Uraraka smiled and threw up a few thumbs up. "We'll save you a seat!"

"Sounds good." Aiko grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. She waved away the small ground and looked around the busy halls, where did All Might go? From the path of talking students, her probably went in the opposite direction of the cafeteria. Would it be okay to see him?

She bit her lip, this would probably be the only time she could talk to him privately, after all he's probably really busy already. It would just be better to get what she's itching to say out of the way. Silver eyes glanced at her homeroom teacher, he was sitting at his desk, shifting through some papers with a bored expression.

He looks too busy to be bothered, so the aspiring hero trotted off into the hallways with vigor in her step. Passing through the cluttered halls, Aiko rushed through the crowds of students and past class 1-B.

Until she stumbled to the side form bumping into someone. "Sorry! Sorry!" She yelped, catching herself and grabbing the shoulders of the figure she hit. "I wasn't watching where I was going!"

The blond ran his hand through his hair, his too gleeful grin plastered onto his now visible face. "This is class 1-A? Pathetic! Can't even watch their own feet!" He cackled through his disturbing grin and held his pained chest. "Seriously?!"

The pink haired girl stumbled back, once again almost tripping on her feet. "I-I'm sorry?"

"Sorry? You don't even know how to apologize? Useless, hahaha!" He continued to imitate a hyena as another figure showed up... and smacked him across the back of the head.

"That's no way to talk to a fellow student!" The new figure chided, using her hand to swipe away the red ponytail form her shoulder. "Sorry about him, he's always been like this since we started class. Don't know why." She shyly laughed to herself. "My name's Itsuka Kendo by the way, if he ever does this again, just call me."

"S-sure?" Aiko gave a scared smile. "Uh, thanks—oh! Do you know where All Might went?"

"All Might?" Her face flashed with excitement. "Yeah! We went to the teacher's lounge over in that direction." She pointed her thumb behind her. "Anyway, I should take him to the lunchroom, ya' know?"

"Right, uh, thanks by the way... Kendo. I appreciate it." She glanced to the side, movement catching her eye.

Komori stared into her soul form behind Kendo, a snark plastered onto his features. He scoffed and walked off with his clawed hands into his pockets.

Kendo didn't notice Komori and instead smiled at Aiko's discomfort. "We honestly think he's an escapee from Tartarus or something." She giggles at her joke to try and lift the mood.

It worked. The two exchanged a little laugh. "I'll see you around I guess."

"Defiantly! See you later-?"

"Aiko, you too." Both separated their own ways, and continued their missions.

The pink haired girl ran through the halls and stopped in front of sign high on the wall. Big, bold letters told her she finally made it to the teacher's lounge. God, was she really going to go through with this?

The door opened before she could bail, a small mouse with the most adorable suit she had ever seen walked out. He had the cutest smile on his face with beady, black eyes that shimmered with momentary surprise. "Hello there!" He began, waving around a tiny paw. "How May I help you?"

She knew who this cute mouse was, and it only made her more regretful of her decision, would he be angry at her? "I-I-umm, I just-I was meaning to-uh-ask Mr. Might a question. I-I can ask another time if he is busy."

All Might jumped at her voice, quickly scurrying away from the view of the door. He wasn't in his All Might form, and if a student already figured out his secret, god that would be difficult to deal with. Still, he listened in, wondering what she might have been wanting to ask. He should go out there right? A little more time wouldn't kill him, besides he needed to be a role model right?

Taking a deep breath he inflated, fixed his suit and leaned into the doors entrance. "Hello there-er-little miss."

Her eyes shined a bit brighter, and Nezu glanced behind him with a raised brow. Toshinori grew his smile to reassure the little mouse.

"Sorry to bother you sir, I was just wondering if I could ask a question about earlier?"

He thought for a moment and remembered which class she might have been from. Oh! Right, the one he was just in. "Of course! What did you want to ask?" He fixed his posture and leaned on the door, waiting for her to continue, but she didn't right away. Instead she glanced over at Nezu nervously and fiddled with her hands.

"I'll see you at the office room, All Might." Nezu said, shuffling away with another cute wave.

The teacher and student watched him walk off before looking at each other once more. "Um, I was thinking about what you said, about what makes a hero, but would it be wrong for someone to want... revenge?"

The question took him by surprise. Revenge? Such a fickle idea split between right and wrong, would it be bad to want revenge? He didn't think so, after all an ulterior motive of him being a hero was also once revenge. "You want to be a hero for revenge? Who are you after?"

She blushed, clearly embarrassed. "It's a bit of a long story, but six years or so ago you saved me from a villain attack. My family didn't make it, but if you weren't there I'm sure more people would have died! If it wasn't for you I probably wouldn't be here, that's why I idolize you!"

"Six years ago? I'm sorry I don't remember much about villain attacks back then." He rubbed the back of his neck with a shy smile. "It's been quite a while."

Aiko shuffled on her feet. "It was a major attack in one of the rich districts, it has been rebuilt since then."

All Might thought deeply about her words, it's normal for villains to attack wealthy districts or shopping centers, either to get hostages or to steal. Her words didn't really make it easy to remember.

Then he thought about what happened six years ago, the scar along his torso tingling form a long lost memory. With that in mind, he would just base her experience after what he remembers in that fight. He couldn't forget that fight. "I think I remember, there was a lot of collateral damage, I'm sorry for your loss."

She smiled a sad smile and avoided eye contact. "Don't worry, you saved my life... and it wasn't your fault. I just want to find that villain and put him to justice for what he did, is that wrong?"

He snapped out of his thoughts, a small head of sweat dropping down his high cheekbones. "Of course it isn't, revenge can be a bad thing, but I think you are justified in wanting to find this missing villain." He shook his head to clear his mind. "You seem like such a sweet, young girl. There is no doubt in my mind you can put that villain to justice and make your family proud."

He placed a large hand on her shoulder and crouched down. Shadowed blue eyes now stared into weary silver ones. "You will be an amazing hero one day, I can tell."

"Th-Thank you, Mr. Might. Hearing that from my hero means more than you think." She glanced down at her hands, a loose nail catching her eyes, must have been from her fiddling. "Thank you, I was worried you'd think it was wrong."

"Everyone has their motives, some more selfish than others, wanting justice is on the selfless side of the spectrum." He stood up to his full height and flashed a smile. "And if it makes you feel any better, I find it admirable to want to justice."

Aiko blushed a deep crimson, did her hero seriously just call her admirable?! Is she dreaming?! No, she isn't, and the man in front of her wasn't just a made up fantasy. She was actually talking to the number one, her literal savior. "Th-Thank you! I promise to be the best hero I can be! I promise to put that man to justice and make you proud!"

With that she dashed off, her hands gripping her hair over her face to cover her blazing cheeks.

All Might chuckled, these students really seemed like a promising bunch huh?

[rpgsandbox]

‘I do believe in fairies! l do! I do!’

Peter Pan - J.M. Barrie

Experiencing visions of a mythical land throughout your childhood, you are suddenly transported to the Inspirisles, a kingdom ruled by the fey. Responsible for a pact made long ago by your ancestors, you must now earn Belief and the respect of their gods or find yourself trapped there forever.

INSPIRISLES is a completely original tabletop RPG aimed at teenagers. It will promote empathy, life skills and deaf awareness with an emphasis on teamwork and creativity.

Play as teens gifted extraordinary powers.

Meet famous characters and fearsome monsters from Celtic folklore.

Work together to heal a crumbling land and restore a fractured kingdom.

Learn British/American Sign Language as you cast spells and solve puzzles.

Become apprentices to the gods.

Offer Belief to earn your tickets home.

This project came about after running my teen Dungeons & Dragons group Hatchlings for over a year. I wanted to create something for them. Something they could have a hand in building. And something I could take beyond the group to use in schools and communities as a workshop model. Inspirisles is the result of this, a game for young players that reflects my interest in folklore and my ongoing work with the deaf community.

Though Inspirisles is aimed at children, it can be enjoyed equally by adults and we are especially encouraging parents, educators and tabletop beginners to invest in our game. Many of us have fond memories of 80s fantasy classics such as The NeverEnding Story & Labyrinth. Inspirisles aims to capture some of that nostalgic magic and transport its older participants back to a more carefree and imaginative time.

                         Standard & Limited Edition book mock-ups

A5 premium-colour hardback with over 150 pages of material, including...

History of the islands and their Friends.

Creating your Foundling character.

Collection of spell, ability & item cards and the tools to invent your own.

A host of worldbuilding ideas & mechanics to breathe life into your quests, including using the arts in roleplaying, creating challenging environmental puzzles, alternative ways to earn Belief, rules for Inspired apprenticeships, exploration, downtime & Doom.

Scriv’s Tour: Follow the famous bard as she journals the key locations & personalities you will encounter during your adventures.

Scriv’s Story: Fiction retelling the moment our bard met Athelyn for the first time (Limited Edition only).

Menagerie of monsters from Celtic folklore & the tools to invent your own.

Starter adventure: ‘Duster Trials’.

Stunning art from cover to cover, including maps for locations and encounters.

Two page spread of Josh Somerville’s spectacular knot art (Limited Edition only).

Dyslexia friendly fonts throughout to prioritise accessibility.

Handouts: Blank character sheet, Shaping alphabet (BSL & ASL), milestone certificates & Grail template.

* terms in bold explored below.

                    Page sample by Anna Urbanek of Double Proficiency

Belief is the keystone of the Inspirisles. The energy binding all things. In its absence, the land and its children would fade from life and from memory.

If Belief were to run dry, it would have terrible repercussions. Imagine something calamitous like Earth’s polar caps suddenly melting or electricity disappearing from the globe overnight.

Though Belief is generated through such things as exploration, the arts, work and even battle, these pale in comparison to the amount collected from human children.

As children believe in magic less and less, the inhabitants of the Inspirisles must come up with new and increasingly creative ways to convince them otherwise.

Belief gathered from Earth is taken to the World Tree and released over its roots. This energy then spreads throughout the land, healing the foundations of the islands.

                                                          Shaping

A place where the gods walk freely, where dragons are hunted for hoarding Belief, where a war rages between Friends, where reforging an ancient sword can reforge a kingdom, where sign language is used to cast spells, where there is no death, only Disbelief, and where heroes rise and fall together.

It is also a setting to reflect the struggles of our own world. You’ll find environmental calamity, political greed and social injustice to name but a few. Making Inspirisles relatable to our future generations was an ambition from the very start. However, we would never want to push an agenda, so building a platform for whichever stories need to be told has been our sole responsibility.

                                                       Hibernation

Our system and its mechanics are entirely built around the theme of Belief. Players must work together to collect this wondrous commodity, reaching the heights before deciding whether to stay and enjoy the renown or return home and reunite with their true families.

Moving away from systems found in many popular tabletop RPGs, Inspirisles is largely aimed at young adults and does away with traditional mechanics such as racial bonuses, class systems, ponderous combat and even death.

Though our players should expect an open, sandbox experience, it’s nice to have an overall goal in mind. As such, the concept of healing the land as a team for rewards and progression is at the heart of Inspirisles.

As with any roleplaying game, Inspirisles will throw challenges at its players. As well as social and environmental encounters, Foundlings (players) will inevitably come across familiar monsters of Celtic legend, such as the Questing Beast who will stalk them across the land. Within the book, you’ll also discover many nasties of our own invention and the tools to invent your own.

                                                  Don’t go it alone!

                                                        Attributes

Foundlings will have six attributes: sword, shield, speed, smarts, social & survival. When facing obstacles, they can lay down up to three cards representing spells, abilities or items. These cards display unique properties that will have an impact on their attribute bonus. Players then roll 2d6, adding the attribute bonus plus any additions from the cards. If the obstacle they are facing is truly perilous, they may turn to their Grail Pool as a last resort, a resource only carried by Foundlings.

                                     Sample obstacle resolution

Obstacles can include social interactions, puzzles, environmental challenges and battle. Whether the obstacle is resolved through roleplay or combat, if it requires a check, it is always contested between player and Grail Guide (Game Master).

With every failed encounter and instead of suffering injury or death, Foundlings will instead experience Disbelief. If too much Disbelief is accumulated as a group, players must pull together to reduce it using the Belief they may be saving for a rank or new cards. This balancing act encourages empathy between participants, but also prevents Doom from affecting the islands.

                                                Puzzles & predators

                        Guinevere & Arthur, our Grail Guide choices

Our version of a Game Master is called the Grail Guide (GG). A participating adult or teenager will take on the role of GG and become the spirit of King Arthur Pendragon or Queen Guinevere. It will be their task to guide the players on their journey, making decisions on the rules, lending voice to the citizens and fangs to the denizens, and encouraging everyone to work together, share the limelight and have fun.

As the GG, you also have the unique opportunity to gift your players their Grail Pool, a set of polyhedral dice (d4, d6, d8, d10, d12 & d20). Foundlings are the only beings able to carry this water poured from the Holy Grail. Even a sip will offer them an edge when facing the greatest of challenges and most dangerous of foes.

Talking of the Grail, with the book will be a template for the holy vessel that GG’s can cutout before sessions. This prop is then placed in the centre of the playing space and can be flipped whenever a player finds a theme or scenario too difficult. The GG can then move on swiftly without disrupting the overall session.

                                                        Safety tool

It is also the responsibility of the GG to add tension and peril to the experience. If their players accumulate too much Disbelief, they can consult a Doom chart. This will change the Inspirisles in dramatic ways, such as causing a volcano to erupt, introducing the Questing Beast to hunt Foundlings, having Excalibur seized by an enemy or building a troll bridge on the outskirts of a city.

                                                        Spelunking

As a player, you take on the role of Foundling, a human teen drawn by fate to the islands. Instead of selecting a race or class, Foundlings are trained by one of eight fey clans, otherwise known as Friends. The Knockers, Glow, Wyrmbitten, Capra, Piskies, Giantheld and Bucca populate distinct locations from city to forest, tin mine to tundra. Seven of these races work tirelessly to restore Belief and prevent the collapse of the Inspirisles. Whilst the eighth, an exiled people known as Glimmers refuse to help, sheltered far beneath the surface where the cracks go unseen and the tremors unfelt.

                                                        Friends

As a Foundling, once Belief is gathered, it can be used in 3 distinct ways...

Pilgrimage to Avalon where the World Tree sits. Belief is offered to its roots in exchange for training.

Patronage to the Inspired. Belief is offered in exchange for spells.

Provide for the community they were embraced by. Belief is offered in exchange for items.

Regardless of how Foundlings offer Belief, they will earn the favour of the ruling houses and feel their reputation and power grow.

                                           Foundling character sheet

The Inspired are the closest thing the islands have to deities. Their influence can be felt across the kingdom at all times and ultimately players will need to impress them if they are to return home.

As well as being great teachers of magic in the form of Shaping, they have trades in their homelands, allowing Foundling players to become apprentices and earn Belief through hard work and dedication.

Kilna of the Fire has his forge.

Egrain of the Earth has her vinyard.

Athelyn of the Water has their bath house.

Vorm of the Air has his skyship.

                                                    The Inspired

Travelling via All’s Well, a mysterious portal leading to the British Isles, on their 15th birthdays, the brightest and bravest Foundlings are sent Earthwards to collect Belief. These elite are known as Dusters.

With the help of a Wellwisher, a common mammal transformed by Athelyn to be more like you and I, Dusters will be guided to a child without Belief, a teenager struggling to feel magic in their life.

Players will then roll a six-sided Dusting Dice (d6), revealing the target child’s particular sensitivity. 1: Fear 2: Joy 3: Wonder 4: Help 5: Story and (6: Other - determined by GG). Through roleplaying this sensitivity, Foundlings must convince the child that magic exists before collecting their Belief to take back.

                                                      Wellwisher

                                    BSL alphabet by british-sign.co.uk

As well as speaking the common tongue for the sake of interactions with humankind, the fey use a form of sign language they believe communicates right to the heart.

The technique is known as Shaping, a term derived from the hand and finger movements used and a deeper meaning of shaping the world around them. Spells are solely expressed through Shaping, with gestures building energy before being released from the fingertips.

Spells are taught only by the Inspired. Only they know the deeper intricacies of the language necessary to harness magic.

Though optional, we are introducing British Sign Language (BSL) and Sign Supported English (SSE) into our game. We are using it as part of the spellcasting process and to solve some of the setting’s most challenging puzzles, encouraging our young players to learn the alphabet and more as they play.

When you back our core book, whether digitally or physically, you will gain access to a video workshop on the art of Shaping produced by our friends in the deaf community. Whilst not a comprehensive introduction to British Sign (see Stretch Goals), it will teach participants enough to encourage them to pursue the language beyond the game.

The core book will also come with an American Sign Language (ASL) alphabet sheet. The video tutorial unlocks through a stretch goal.

Kickstarter campaign ends: Mon, August 17 2020 12:00 AM BST

Website: Hatchlings

[buffyversefanfiction]

Slayer of Slayers

Warnings:I do not own, nor do I claim to own any of the copyright or characters within the Buffyverse which includes but not limited to the television shows Buffy and Angel, as well as the Darkhorse comics series’ continuation.

15+ Strong to moderate violence, Graphic to mild descriptions of gore, and torture, sexually charged scenes, sexual innuendos, mild to strong language, and practices of witchcraft.

M/M, F/F, M/F, GEN, OTHER +

PART FOUR LINK HERE

Part Five - Parental Guidance Advised

Theo Frey, the slayer of slayers, was now a vampire, a vampire unlike any other before him, one that sired themselves, and along with his new undead status, he found his slayer strength, speed, and healing, was now matched with his vampire side making him even more powerful than ever before, all working towards Drusilla’s grand plans which were created after she had a vision of the vampire/slayer hybrid bringing about the end of days.

Drusilla and Theo traveled to the outskirts of New York, in the middle of nowhere, located deep within some woods, arriving at an abandoned asylum which Drusilla had claimed to be her home for many years now, the first place she took Theo after his parents died, the place in which Theo first met the love of his life, Tobias. “The future is a funny little thing not once did I see the death of my darling Tobias in any vision and now it’s the first and last thing, I see every day.” Drusilla sadly revealed to Theo, as the two walked down a hallway within the abandoned asylum late at night. “Well, it would have been good to get a whole heads up about becoming a vamp myself before it actually happened, but I guess I was not on a need-to-know basis with that one.” Theo slyly snapped at his fellow vampire. “It was you and Tobias who chose to go off on your own create your own paths and become number one targets for all slayers,” Drusilla replied. “Everything was meant to happen the way it was for you to become the best version of yourself, a version strong enough to kill your birth mother.” “Did Tobias always know? That I’d one day become a vampire?” Theo could not help but wonder, as he began to wonder whether falling for Tobias was all just a part of Drusilla’s plans. “No, he did not…you two were truly destined to love each other it is with great sadness that your love story with my beautiful Tobias has come to an end but sadly it does not surprise me either,” Drusilla revealed to him, before going on to say. “Buffy will stop at nothing to slay us all, yet where was she to slay the monsters who took the ones that raised you?” “Buffy and Angel will pay for abandoning me in fact I am already putting a plan into action for them both but let me make myself clear when I say I will not be waiting as long to take revenge for Tobias,” Theo promised her, much to Drusilla’s delight. “Now why do I still feel the same?” “Well, another little hitch has occurred it seems you still have your soul,” Drusilla answered him, both looking as shocked as the other. “I do not know why that pesky thing is still in place, but I am not worried about it, some of the biggest monsters in the world still have souls after all…now please do tell mummy what you have planned for other mummy and naughty daddy?”

After being M.I.A from the slayer world as well as her friends, loved ones, and all real-world connections, Buffy Summers had taken to a cabin in the woods, in the middle of nowhere, the perfect place to get lost and forget about the rest of the world, and for one whole year she had uninterrupted bliss as she attempted to get over the loss of her son, but as she sat on the steps of her cabin porch and felt a sudden change in the wind nearby, she knew her perfect isolation was about to be intruded and after a blast of lightning struck the nearby grounds it became abundantly clear that her best friend Willow had found her. “I told you not to come looking for me I told you when I was ready, I’d come looking for you,” Buffy told the red-headed witch after Willow appeared from out of the ripped air that the lightning strike had just caused. “But it is good to see you again Willow…I’ve missed you.” “We found him, Buffy…” Willow said with great sadness, knowing the story she was about to tell her friend would only cause her more hurt but also knowing she had to be the one who Buffy found out from. Willow sat Buffy back down on the porch, sitting next to her, and went on to tell her everything she knew about Buffy’s son Theo, the revelation that he was somehow a slayer like his mother, that he was seeing a vampire just like his mother, but that was where the similarities ended as she went on to talk about Theo hunting other slayers before being captured and possibly killed by Buffy’s former watcher Rupert Giles in self-defense. Willow made it clear that they had no idea who he was until it was too late, that despite not knowing who he was they fought hard for his redemption, and how she believed that despite it being unlikely, that Theo Frey had somehow survived and was still out there somewhere. She hugged Buffy as she cried, listened while she shouted, advised her while she tried to make sense of it all, and stayed with the blonde-haired slayer until she was ready to act towards the shocking revelations. “He’s been hiding in plain sight this whole time, living a life before our very eyes…god knows what he has been through, what I was not there to protect him from.” Buffy cried as she tried to come to terms with the news about her now fully grown son who was just born over a year ago. “And now he could be gone again…” “I have several covens working on locating him, Faith’s headed to Los Angeles to speak to Angel about it all and get him involved in finding him too,” Willow confessed to the slayer, trying to give her some positive news. “We are going to find him; I know he is still out there I just know it!” “Oh god, we told him his son was dead and now he might actually be.” Buffy realized as she felt the weight of lying to Angel for all this time.

Angel sat behind the desk in his office within the Hyperion Hotel looking through the books he had gathered through the years as he searched for information on the latest demon he and Illyria were hunting when he was surprised to hear the front door to the Hyperion Hotel being opened thanks to his advanced vampire hearing and so he rose out of his chair, grabbed a hold of a nearby knife and walked into the main foyer of the hotel where he was shocked to find Faith stood there waiting for him. “You can drop the weapon big man it's only little old me.” Faith said to the vampire with a soul, before the two walked into his office, as the slayer slowly began to prepare herself for telling Angel the truth, fearing it would change their friendship forever. “Thought you were held up at slayer rehab trying to mend the boy slayer’s broken ways,” Angel replied as he placed his knife back onto his desk table. “Do not tell me he’s already redeemed and ready to be put back into society.” “Far from it actually,” Faith answered nervously. “The thing about Theo is, well he kind of, sort of, turns out to be your long lost son, the miracle child you had with Buffy who we kind of told you was dead…there is no better way to say this than we kind of lost him through a portal last year and told you he died because well Connor…but he’s back all grown up just like Connor and sort of evil again like Connor.” “You guys told me he was dead, you told me he was dead!” Angel snapped at the one slayer he believed would never keep something from him, especially not something like this. “I help you capture him, we could have killed him, and all this time he was my son? How that hell is that even possible?” “Well, the good news is he wound up in the past and not a hell dimension.” Faith told the vampire reluctantly, feeling his fury over the lies that she helped tell, even if she believed it was for his best. “None of this is good Faith! You lied to me! You, Buffy, and Willow told me he died! I mourned the loss of my baby son, I blamed myself for not being enough to protect him, I blamed her.” Angel shouted in disbelief, infuriated to learn his son had been alive all this time. “Where is he now? Where is Theo?” “Okay do not get all murder and Angelus like on me but Giles sort of shot him multiple times then he swan dived out of a window into deep waters but hey on the plus side Willow is pretty sure he’s still alive…” Faith quickly responded, making sure she gave him all the information needed as she wished for this conversation, and for her friend’s anger, to come to an end, despite knowing this was only the beginning.

The several covens working on finding a location for Theo Frey through magical means had finally got some results, questionable results, as they informed Willow that the male slayer was in his hometown of Riverborn, of all places, Theo had headed home, and despite the gut feeling that this was most definitely some kind of trap, Willow revealed her covens’ findings to Buffy and the two best friends quickly headed for the Californian small town located rather close to their own hometown of Sunnydale, or where Sunnydale once stood. “This place is giving me all the wrong kind of Sunnydale vibes which only serves to convince me even further that we are walking straight into a trap,” Willow told her blonde-haired friend, as she and Buffy walked the streets of Riverborn, late at night, in search of the Frey family home, where Buffy’s son once lived. “I do not care if he wants to trap me or not the point is he wants us there which is a step in the right direction for me,” Buffy admitted to her, as the two stopped outside of an abandoned home, the tell-tale signs of its boarded windows, and the decaying build revealing it to be the former family home of Theo and his adoptive parents. “I hope this was a happy home to grow up in…I hope his life has not all been as twisted as the recent years we know about.” “Well, if it was not, it is not like I could have done anything, you know with the whole fact that I thought my son was dead this entire time.” Angel snapped at Buffy, appearing from behind the slayer and witch. “Angel…I can’t begin to apologize for everything I’ve put you through, that I forced Willow and Faith to put you through, so I’m not going to, not yet anyway.” Buffy told the vampire with which she shared a child, as his eyes never left the view of their son’s former home. Willow quickly informed Angel of the plan which she and Buffy had made while on their way to Riverborn, hoping to avoid as much awkwardness between the two as possible, as she revealed she would wait outside ready to cast any spells needed if Theo had not come alone so that the two could focus on trying to get through to their son, and after a few minutes of talking things through it was time to put their plans into action.

As Buffy and Angel walked through the front door of Theo’s family home and into the living room he once shared with his adoptive parents it became abundantly clear, by the photos in frames placed above a cozy fireplace, that the people who had raised their son truly loved him like he was their own, and for a brief moment, they found comfort in that knowledge, until their minds began to wonder what happened to them for this once loving home to become so empty and for their son to go down such a wicked path. “All I wanted for him was a normal life, a normal home, and to be safe,” Buffy told Angel as tears formed in her eyes, while the slayer and vampire moved into the kitchen where they found a sinister-looking Theo gleefully awaiting their arrival as he held a crossbow in his hands ready to fire at any given moment. “Before or after the monsters that you were supposed to slay took everything away from me.” Theo sarcastically replied to his mother, finally meeting her for the first time after all these years. “The blood-stained carpet in the living room is where I found my mother on my sixteenth birthday…oh the irony, and here is where I found my father.” “Theo I am so sorry!” Buffy cried, seeing nothing but hatred for her in her son’s eyes, beautiful eyes which he had gotten from Buffy’s mother, with his facial structure very much like Angel’s. “You seem different!” Angel stated to his son, realizing something had changed within him since the last time they met when he did not know Theo was his son. “So, the cat is clearly out of the bag about who I really am. That’s good it’s going to make this so much more enjoyable!” Theo declared revealing to them both that he knew exactly who they were and that he hated them more than anything else on this planet. “Theo, you have got to know I had no idea that you were even alive. I’d have stopped at nothing to find you otherwise.” Angel promised his son, hoping to explain his absence to Theo, that he was not to blame for not being in his life. “I thought I had lost you forever I had no clue where you wound up…I should’ve looked for you, but I hoped you were better off without me.” Buffy confessed as Theo kept the crossbow firmly pointing at both of his biological parents, seeming untouched by their words. “I do not want answers, you idiots.” Theo scoffed at them both. “Answers are what some lost boy looks for as he longs to be found but I’m no lost boy and I found myself a very long time ago. All I want is revenge!” Theo did not wait for either Buffy or Angel to reply before shooting two arrows in their direction, arrows which Angel managed to catch, one in each hand, before it made any damage towards him or Buffy as Theo quickly scurried out of the kitchen ready to play a game of hide and seek, a game he intended to not only win but to use as another trap for the two people he blamed for everything wrong in his life.

Angel took to the upstairs of Theo’s family home while Buffy went down to the basement, figuring if they took both options to where their son could have run to, then he would not be able to get away so easily, and as Angel reached the upstairs hallway, he found himself walking into Theo’s bedroom which looked like it had been kept the same way since he was last in it. Angel scoured the room where he found shelves filled with books, a desk filled with awards, and a picture by Theo’s bed of himself and a friend, which he did not know at the time was Ruby Moon, and as he continued to look around his son’s room he realized Theo once lived a happy life in this home, which is exactly why they were brought here because Theo blamed them for his happy life coming to an end. Although Angel’s search led to nowhere, Buffy’s search was going much better as she reached the bottom of the basement stairs to see Theo stood there, having ditched his crossbow, for a shiny blade. “I was hoping you’d be the one to find me first, mother and son, slayer versus slayer, you’re going to be my biggest kill.” Theo boasted to a horrified Buffy who was left unnerved by her son’s desire to kill her. “I do not want to fight you, Theo, you are my son and I love you,” Buffy replied cautiously, fearing she would have no choice but to go head-to-head with her own son. “I’m a vampire just like daddy now, did I forget to mention that? So, if you think you’re going to win against me then I have to tell you I’m a lot stronger than when I went up against your friends.” Theo confessed to a stunned Buffy, who realized her son had died before she even got a chance to meet him and at the hands of Giles, nonetheless. “You’re dead?” Buffy answered in complete shock, blaming herself for her son’s doomed fate. “But you still have a soul…” Angel announced as he appeared at the top of the basement stairs and began walking down towards Buffy and Theo. “I don’t know how it’s possible, how you are a vampire, and yet somehow you are still you but the fact that you’ve kept your soul is very much evidence that you are not as evil as you want us to believe.” “Or maybe my soul is so damned the devil himself does not want it?” Theo replied to his father, eager to debunk Angel’s theory about him. “I am the first vampire in history to ever sire himself I guess that means the rules are different for me and although there are two of you, I like my odds considering I am both vampire and slayer.” “I am not going to fight you!” Buffy repeated herself, refusing to lay hands on her son. “I will,” Angel stated before going on to say. “If I have to beat the good back into you then I will.” Theo charged towards Angel swinging his blade multiple times in his direction, Angel managing to avoid being cut before knocking the blade out of Theo’s hands leading to the two vampires going head-to-head in a brutal and bloody fight. Angel managed to hold his own against his son Theo for some time, but it was not long before Theo began to get the better of his father but not because of his new undead status but rather because Angel was holding back, and Buffy could see that, so as Theo threw his biological father to the floor Buffy rushed across the basement floor and picked up Theo’s knife. “Stop it now!” Buffy shouted at her son as she placed the knife against her son. “If you are so damned determined to kill your parents then start with me. “Buffy…” Angel muttered before being knocked out by a killer right hook punch by Theo, who left his father unconscious on the ground as he began to walk over towards his mother. “Do not think that I will not kill you right here right now!” Theo told Buffy as he placed his own hands on the blade pressed against Buffy’s chest. “Then do it! If it is going to make you happy then do it!” Buffy pleaded with her son as tears began to form in her eyes. “All I have ever wanted is your happiness…” Theo pushed the blade into Buffy’s chest ever so slightly, just enough force so she could feel the blade but not enough force to break the skin, and he stood there with a knife

to his mother’s chest for what felt like forever to Buffy but in likelihood was less than a minute, before Theo threw the blade to the ground, unable to kill his own mother. “I do not remember what happy feels like anymore,” Theo admitted honestly, his words making Buffy realize how truly broken he was, much to her own horror, and as he began walking up the stairs leaving both Buffy and Angel in the basement, Buffy could not help but feel responsible for her son’s fate, vowing to save him from himself even if it did lead to her own death.

[ddixons-angel]

Fated: Season 4

Summary: Gloria Rhee narrowly escapes Atlanta with her brother as the outbreak reaches the city. Luckily, they find a camp outside the city and together, they fend through encounters with the living and undead.

Starts a little before Season 1 and then follows the main storyline of the show.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Glenn Sister!OC

Warnings: major TWD spoilers, language, violence (the typical TWD stuff)

A/N: This is the FINAL CHAPTER of Season 4! I’ll be going back to posting once a week after this for Seasons 5 and 6 so the first chapter of Season 5 will be up next Monday!!! This is so I can hopefully finish my WIPs for after Fated is over so I won’t need to take a hiatus ^^ Thank you guys for understanding~ Now... ONTO THE FINALE!

also I wanted to find the uncensored version of the gif because it is literally my favorite line of the whole show but I couldn’t get a decent one *sad face* 

Chapter 13

The group decided to take up camp inside the tunnel. They had barricaded the other side so that the only entrance would be on the far end of the tunnel and by the time anyone or anything tried to get in, the group would hear it and be prepared. Eugene had created a campfire in the middle of the tracks as the others cleared up the rest of the bodies. Now, they were all sitting by the campfire, huddled together as Abraham told Sasha, Bob, and Gloria about their plans to go to Washington. Apparently, Eugene knew what had caused the outbreak and they were on a mission to fix it, cure whatever disease they were all infected with and maybe even repair the whole world. 

“What’s up?” Maggie asks when her, Glenn, Rosita, and Tara, the woman who helped Glenn, joins them by the campfire.

“He just said,” Sasha says, pointing to Abraham, then at Eugene, “that he knows what caused the outbreak.”

“Yeah, he does... and let me guess, he asked you to go to DC with him?” Glenn says, crossing his arms. 

“I’m downright tickled y’all found each other. Should spend the rest of the night celebrating, because tomorrow there’s absolutely no reason why the nine of us don’t stuff ourselves in that van and head up to Washington.” Abraham says, matter-of-factly. 

“He’s right,” Tara says, “I’m gonna go.”

Gloria looks around the group as they all seem to be in silent agreement, “no, he’s wrong.”

“And why’s that?” Abraham says with a frown.

“Because you said there’s absolutely no reason why we shouldn’t go to Washington together, well I have a reason not to go.” Gloria says, she then turns to Glenn, “now that I know you’re alive, you and Maggie go with them, it’s safer for you in a group.”

“No!” Glenn protests, “no way in hell am I letting you go off on your own, if you’re not going then neither am I.”

“And may we know what your reason is?” Abraham pushes, his tone was condescending as if any reason she gave wouldn’t be enough.

“There’s someone else I need to find, and I’m not going anywhere without him.” Gloria tells him straightforwardly. 

Knowing that she was talking about Daryl, Glenn reaches out to her and gently grabs her arm, “then we’ll find him together.”

The group turned in for the night and Gloria took it upon herself to take first watch. She sits on the side of the railroad track and looks out towards the only entrance and exit point of the tunnel. She sighs as she feels the lingering void in her heart. Earlier when they were all sharing their rations, Gloria couldn’t help but feel alone. She was happy that Bob and Sasha had each other, ecstatic that Glenn and Maggie found each other again, and it seemed like Abraham and Rosita had something between them. Being surrounded by couples, it was hard not to miss Daryl. She tugs the shirt that she was wearing around her, wrapping it tightly around her, Daryl’s shirt. 

“I hope you’re okay...” she whispers as if he could hear it. 

Gloria was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t notice that Glenn had approached her until he sat down beside her. She quickly wipes the stray tear that fell then glances at him.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” she asks him.

“What kind of brother would I be if I slept while my little sister is crying to herself?” Glenn says, looking at her, “talk to me.”

“I’m scared... what if I don’t find him... what if he’s already...” she sighs deeply, unable to finish her sentence before her emotions take over. 

“Hey... come here,” Glenn says as he wraps his arm around her, pulling her into a comforting embrace, “we’ll find him, I already convinced the others to go to Terminus, that’ll be the first place we look, and if he isn’t there, we don’t go to DC until we find him.”

“What if he didn’t make it out...” Gloria softly sobs out.

“He made it,” Glenn reassures her, “if anyone made it out, it’s him, you know more than anyone how much of a fighter he is.”

Gloria nods and snuggles into her brother, “I miss him...”

“I know, and I’m sure he misses you too. He’s probably doing everything he can to find you too. Tell you what, if he’s not there at Terminus when we get there, we can wait for him to find us, what do you say?” Glenn suggests.

A small smile tugs at Gloria’s lips and she nods. She remembers back to Daryl’s words, that he’d always be able to find her. She knew that Glenn was right, if anyone made it out from the prison, it would be Daryl. She felt guilty that she almost gave in to thinking that he might have died in the battle. Gloria needed to have faith and trust that Daryl is still alive and looking for her as well. 

---

“So... you and Bob?” Gloria teases Sasha as she walks beside her.

“Ugh, I knew I was gonna hear it from you sooner or later,” Sasha shakes her head but there was still a smile on her face. 

“I’m just surprised,” Maggie chimes in, “we both thought you hated him.”

“I did not,” Sasha rolls her eyes. 

“Then you just thought he was extremely annoying?” Gloria asks.

“Hey, I’m right here and I can hear you,” Bob calls out, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

“I know,” Gloria grins at him teasingly.

“Guys,” Glenn calls out as he leads the group, “I think we found it...”

It was a day’s walk from the tunnel to Terminus but there it was, standing tall with fences around it. Large letters in the windows that read TERMINUS. The group of nine glance at each other before making their way to the gate, pushing it open and walking towards the large building. They see a sign that directs them into the alleyway between the arrangement of buildings.

“‘Lower your weapons, you will be met. You have arrived at Terminus’.” Gloria reads the sign that was displayed on the main entrance of the building, she looks at Glenn, “should we listen?”

“They’ll only be hostile if we are, so, yeah, I say we listen.” Glenn says.

The others agree with him and enter the premises with their weapons lowered. As they walk through the alleyway, they are soon met by the backside of a woman who seems to be cooking on a barbeque stove. She seems to have noticed the group as she turns around and greets them with a welcoming smile.

“Hi, I’m Mary,” she says as she walks in front of the barbeque, “looks like you’ve been on the road a while.”

“We have,” Maggie responds for the whole group.

“Let’s get you settled and we’ll make you a plate.” Mary says then adds with a smile, “welcome to Terminus.”

“Thank you, uh, I’m Glenn, this is my sister Gloria, my wife Maggie, Bob, Sasha, Tara, Rosita, Eugene, and Abraham.” he says, gesturing to each respective person as he introduces the group. 

“Pleased to meet you all,” she says, then she goes back behind the stove and puts some pieces of meat on the grill, “Gareth! Alex! Please come out here and welcome our new group of friends!”

Soon enough, two men come out and greet the group with a smile, “hi! I’m Gareth and this is Alex. First we’d like to welcome you to Terminus. If you don’t mind coming with us to that building over there, that’s where we will be starting the welcoming process, you know the basics, screening, checking your weapons, questioning, and all that. I hope you understand that even though we’re welcoming to every person, we still need to think of our safety.”

The approach of the procedure seemed understandable and so the group agreed to follow Gareth and Alex into the building he had pointed to earlier. Once they were outside the building, Gareth began explaining the details of the procedure.

“As I mentioned, there is a questioning process and I hope you guys understand that we will only be letting in one person at a time. The reason for that is the last time we did a group questioning... well let’s just say that some of the people who were with us when it happened, aren’t here anymore, and we don’t want anything close to that happening ever again.” Gareth explains.

They all nod at this, it seems reasonable since they were only trying to protect their own people. However, something about it rubbed Gloria the wrong way. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she just didn’t get a good feeling about the place now that she was actually here. Abraham was the first one to go in for questioning as he wanted to make sure it was safe for Eugene to go in right after him. 

“Older brother,” Gloria says in Korean softly to Glenn, “I don’t have a good feeling about this place.”

Glenn looks at her and responds in Korean, “come on, we already made it and you have a bad feeling now?”

“I can’t explain it but I just don’t...” she says then looks around and eyes the meat on the barbeque, “isn’t this place supposed to be a train station?”

“I think so, why?” Glenn asks.

“Do you smell manure or anything like that?” she asks, earning a weird look from Glenn.

“I don’t. What are you getting at?” he asks.

“This is a train station with no sign of a farm to raise cattle and yet there’s a ton of what looks like fresh meat cooking on the stove, you don’t find that weird?” Gloria points out.

Glenn registers her words and it dawns on him that she’s right. He could probably play it off if this were some kind of meat processing plant with a large freezer to store meat but this was just a train station. Unbeknownst to the siblings, Gareth seemed to be eyeing the two as they spoke in their mother tongue, wary and curious as to what they were saying.

“Everything okay?” Maggie asks, noting their serious faces.

Glenn tightens his lips and forces a smile as he nods to Maggie, “yeah, yeah, everything’s fine.” 

Gloria gives him a look and tells him in Korean, “listen, when it’s your turn, ask if you can bring sister-in-law with you, I don’t trust you going in there alone.”

Before Glenn could give her a response, the door to the building opens and Glenn is next in line to go in. He glances at Alex who smiles at him, waiting for him to enter the building. He looks back at Gloria who gives him a disapproving look. 

“I uh... I know it’s custom for you guys to just take in one person at a time, but is it okay if I bring my wife in?” Glenn asks Gareth, heeding Gloria’s word.

Alex looks over at Gareth who smiles at him and nods, “I don’t see why not.”

Maggie furrows her brows, slightly confused at the request but goes into the building with Glenn anyway, trusting him. Gloria watches with worry as the door closes behind them and her look is caught by Gareth.

“Hey, Gloria, right?” Gareth calls out, “I know you’re worried about whether or not we’re good people, but I promise you that we are. We just want to survive, just like you.”

Gloria forces a smile on her face and nods. She doesn’t verbally answer him though as she anxiously waits for her turn. Curiosity was eating at her, were Glenn and Maggie okay? Was it really just a simple questioning or was it something more? She is about to find out as the door opens and Alex greets her with a smile. Gloria sighs and enters the building without a second thought. He leads her down a hallway and into a smaller room. The inside of the room looked just like that of a guidance counselor’s office in high school, only difference being that the desk was empty and there were no chairs. Two people were already inside the room but they looked to be guards as they stood in the corner of the room. 

“First, I’d like to ask you to put your weapons on the desk, we’re going to be doing a body search before the questioning.” Alex tells her once she’s standing in front of the desk.

Gloria lets out a breath and does as she’s told, removing her daggers from her belt along with the gun she’d taken from Joe’s men. She places them on the desk. 

“Good,” Alex says with a smile then he goes over to, “now for the body search, hope you don’t mind.”

“I’ll let you know with a kick in the face if you make me feel uncomfortable,” Gloria spits out, not liking the vibe Alex was giving her.

“Feisty,” he chuckles then begins to check her body for any additional or hidden weapons in which he did not find, “nothing, that’s good.”

Alex steps away from Gloria then he looks behind her to send one of the guards a signal. She frowns as she catches the eye signal and she tries to turn around but she’s caught by the guard. Gloria freezes when she feels a gun pointed to her back and the guard ushers her out of the room and out of the building altogether through another door. He keeps the gun pressed to her back as he brings her to a large red train car with a big white ‘A’ painted on the side. He roughly pushes her forward but keeps the gun aimed at her.

“Open the door and go in,” he tells her, “now!”

Gloria sighs and does as told, sliding the door to the train car open and stepping inside. The door closes behind her almost immediately and she lets her eyes adjust to the darkness of the train car.

“I hate to admit it... but you were right.” Glenn says somewhere in the train car.

She scoffs at that and raises her arms to feel around the place so she doesn’t run into a wall, “I’m always right.”

Once she finds the wall, she leans her back on it, “now what?”

“Figure out a way to get the hell out of here.” Maggie says, standing on Glenn’s other side. 

“And how would we do that?” Abraham asks, leaning on the opposite wall of Gloria. 

“They have to open the doors here some time, right? Keep us fed, hydrated, if they were going to kill us, they would have already.” Glenn reasons.

“They’re going to kill us...” Gloria says and she feels Glenn throw her a disappointed look although she can’t see it, “the meat they were cooking up, what do you think that was?”

“Long pork,” Eugene pipes up, “I found it bizarre, there’s no emanation of manure in the air which means no livestock. As we may have noticed this is a train terminal of sorts, and in my knowledge there is no equipment within these facilities to act as any form of preservation of meats such as a cooler or refrigerator. I believe that we have just become their livestock.”

Gloria looks at Abraham,” does he always talk like that?”

“He does.” Abraham nods. 

“Wait, so you’re saying they’re... cannibals?” Glenn says, a look of horror on his face.

“It’s smart.. Disgusting and absolutely inhumane... but smart,” Maggie says, “they set up signs for people to come to them as a lure... and we fell straight into their trap...” 

“We gotta figure out a plan to get out of here before they butcher us...” Gloria stated the obvious with a heavy sigh. 

One by one, the doors open to let in the others of their group but after that, no one from Terminus comes to check up on the group. They were all stuck in there, with no way out nor any indication of a schedule for them to try an ambush attack. The only sign of day and night was from the light that poured into the small holes and cracks of the train car. 

A full day had gone by and there was nothing they could do about their situation. The only positive to this was that none of them were dead. 

“I can’t believe it...” Gloria mutters, “we were all so busy running from the dead trying to eat us, we run straight into a stupid trap for other people to try and eat us.”

“That’s not helping, Gloria.” Glenn groans.

She scoffs and is about to say something else when she hears gunshots coming from nearby, “did you guys hear that?”

“That’s gunfire if I ever heard it,” Abraham says.

“Are they getting attacked?” Tara asks.

“Oh I really fucking hope so.” Gloria says as she tries to look out one of the small holes. 

The gunfire continues for a brief moment then stops completely. They all hear a voice that sounds like Gareth shouting but they aren’t able to comprehend what he was saying. Soon the door opens, blinding them all as light floods into the train car. Someone steps in, followed by three others and the door is closed again. It seems that they had just caught more people. Gloria sighs and leans on the wall again while Glenn gets up and walks towards the new people.

“Rick?” he calls, making Gloria look in the direction of the new people. 

It takes a few seconds for Gloria’s eyes to adjust to the darkness again and relief floods through her when she sees Rick and Carl, they were alive. She recognizes the woman behind Carl as well, Michonne. Gloria lets out a breath when she sees the figure behind Rick, tears well up in her eyes.

“Daryl...” she whispers quietly, as if she was scared that if she said it any louder he would disappear. 

Daryl’s eyes land on her and within a second Gloria dashes towards him, tackling him in a tight hug. His arms wrap around her body in an instant, his hand cradling her head as he presses a kiss to her forehead. She pulls away from him reluctantly and turns to look at Rick who smiles at her. 

“You’re here,” he says with a nod, then looks at the others in the train car, seemingly looking at the people he didn’t recognize.

“They’re our friends.” Maggie tells him.

“They helped save us.” Gloria adds. 

“Yeah,” Daryl says, taking Gloria’s hand in his, “and now they’re friends o’ ours.”

“For however long that’ll be,” Abraham remarks. 

“No...” Rick says, he then steps towards the door he came through, seemingly checking for any cracks or ways out, “they’re gonna feel pretty stupid when they find out.”

“Find out what?” Abraham asks, stepping towards the man.

Rick looks at Abraham, then at everyone else in the train car, “they’re fucking with the wrong people.” 

---

Next Chapter

I really hate to leave it here but as you all know, this is literally how they ended Season 4 and they jump straight into it for Season 5, so please forgive me!! At least Gloria and Daryl are reunited~~ I gotta be honest, I wasn’t sure how I wanted them to reunite at first haha I was thinking that maybe Gloria would sneak away from Glenn and the others but Glenn would just freak out trying to find her haha and then I realized I don’t think I’ve ever read any other fics with then reuniting in the actual train car, so I went with it (if there is a scene like that in another fic, please link me, I’d love to read it!)

Please let me know what you thought of this chapter and ending to Season 4! As I mentioned earlier, Season 5 will begin NEXT MONDAY!!!  ^^ 

And as always, I would really appreciate any comments left for me! I’ll be replying to any comments in a new post because this is a sideblog!

Taglist (please let me know if you’d like to be added/removed!):

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[jimmyflemion]

Hi everyone. The Spiritual album is here. Damaged Goods  / Sinned in Reverse. Out now! Finally. Our album that has been talked about in interviews & the works for the last 30 years. Today digitally available everywhere. Always had it in mind for this to come out as an album in album form (who knows, maybe someday?) but now that it has been finished this seemed the perfect time for its release. Over the last 9 years all the song versions were listened to meticulously, chosen, vocals & instruments added & recorded, the theme of the story & running order placed in a schematic theme, mixed, mastered & the artwork went through several renovations until today as it stands in its completed form. Whenever it seemed like it was finished & patience had given out, there was that voice saying that when the time was right it would be ready. Why are any of us here? Our spirits, our souls, the learning, the forgetting, the remembering. What is my purpose? Is it something other than what I think it is? Am I supposed to be helping in some other way? I often ask myself these questions. Music always has given me hope to figure out these things & be good with myself & my choices, helping me to make sense. I often think of my sins & sins of omission words I feel I should have said or shouldn’t have said. The life I’ve led, previous lives. Being honest with myself & others & communicating my feelings freely & openly. Reflecting how my life would have changed dramatically. Often pointing the finger & not owning up to my own part in things. We all play a part in the communion. I’ve judged so much in my life. Through my own faults perceived through my own judgement, I become more & more conscientious & conscious & not so much on autopilot. For those I’ve hurt through my own neglect, I offer my sincere apologies. To be good with yourself & your pure refection brings peace. Myself & my brother were The Frogs. We grew up together, played & wrote songs entwining a world revered & a world despised & quickly scribed them with quill, in the end giving you the listeners your own choice in choosing where your heart aligns. From seeing both sides of characters as well as taking an honest look at ourselves, there began an introspection as to who we are as humans & it made its’ way into the work. We uncovered a society of depravity we had no intention of joining. Although given somewhat of a view of the music biz here & there from a ringside seat, in fact we were never invited to the party for we posed a threat in seeing through your false idol’s bullshit. We were different, we didn’t fit in & in retrospect a very good thing to be, working in our favor. But alas however cool or punk or whatever someone might think that might feel it took on an aura of loneliness. We were outsiders, who still in a way wanted for our ego’s sake (remember this is show biz, it takes some sort of ego to continue on, year after year) to be appreciated or make some sort of a living at this game. However, looking at things now, there really was never anything we missed out on, knowing how proud he was of me & I of him & what we set out to do through our creativity. I am reminded by a beautiful princess who once upon a time told me, we are all frogs. We are God’s children that keep getting turned into frogs & under the spell of the witches. The Frogs, the band represents all the frogs of the world. The Frogs, the band are the narrator, the storyteller as in the fairytale. The Frogs have their sweet revenge by flipping, showing the people thru song their own judgements of what beauty, evil, cruelty & perception of what is truth or not. You are the judge. It’s always been up to the listener of the message what they were to receive from it to learn or unlearn. Like a lot of music itself, it’s multilayered, multidimensional, the listener gets to decide what it means. We are all frogs, right & wrong, good & bad, ugly & beautiful, loving & hateful, mean & kind. We have a choice. Thru our own experience, we can heal & help to shine our light or to stay in the darkness & continue to judge all of it or accept & return to all that is within us which is love. & somewhere within all that we must not forget what they do to frogs in school’s biology class, cutting them open, dissecting removing parts showing children that it is ok in the name of science & men who eat & destroy the lives of children. Becoming comfortable with these ideas as if it’s cool or gross, not really understanding what they are doing. That which was once life, God’s creation lie there on the table, it represents us thru the fairytales. Being manipulated, being blinded from the day of our birth that we should be okay with all this and yet that is the great big lie too. The world you, we know/knew & the people of it that revel & cling to darkness remain at that vibration until they subscribe to the light. The light is for all yet some have an allergic reaction to it due to their disposition & judgement of the collective creation. The Frogs, myself and my brother spoke the truth about everything the 3rd dimensional world holds & ascending dimensions above. Together we were not puppets, poseurs, plagiarists or frauds, follow the long lost line of money, our trail is short. Those who hijack the heart will find & attract those of like. There remains nothing to be taught or learned for the kingdom of heaven is within, pretty simple. It’s easy to innerstand, if one makes a concerted conscious effort to spread love as opposed to their fascination with fear & pornographic obsession with death, which spoiler alert walks hand in hand with life. The music we created has nothing to do with “satire”, in fact at times there is no rhyme & reason & in times needed there is rhyme & reason. A fool auditions for a song, a wise man dresses up in costume, the world’s zoo comes to life & appears & disappears in illusion or what some call magic or a critic appears on notice to define art. There is a floodgate of material & songs to peruse & at times it makes the most sense to corral them conceptually. I used to be so concerned on being comprehended correctly to my liking but matters not. If I must spell it out, see how the Phoenicians, use their created language & words in plain sight, with the word spell to cast spells. In conclusion, the words with respect to the music are laced with wisdom. There is no other way. The goal, the direction, the soul purpose being co-creating beautiful sounds, energy & vibrations with the maker. In appreciation of creation. The heart beats, the world turns, the divine nature of the soul is changeless, without wavering, it answers the call of protecting & nurturing the mutual life force. Love avoids competition as it stands in its own sovereignty. ‘Tis the very common ground we all share & vibrate to. No one else can control our destiny, that which we were put on this plane, planet earth to fulfill. There was a shared mission only Dennis & I shared. The understanding & meaning that music in the right hands transforms the soul. Caging people, labeling, putting them in boxes, thinking these monsters own you is the absolute antithesis of love. The angels provide the roadmap, speak to them, I’ve spoken in song about freedom, having loved the show “Born Free” growing up under the Leo sign. I pray someday people that are real will find like minded humans & the fake actors satisfied with their empty empathy will have a true awakening. Judge much, yes but ‘tis a lonely world full of ghosts. So on a lighter note, as we float higher, what have I learned in all these years later 9 since Dennis has passed. What I’ve always known that I am so beyond blessed & grateful to have had him as my brother, how much love, care & detail he put into every moment of his life, how much he gave & how everything was a gift, how much he cherished life & being in everyone’s presence. His heart was always in the right place. An angel. Finally this album is the final Frogs album (the spiritual album that has been promised for years) 32 tracks, (number 5) Dennis & I were both number 5’s in our life paths. “damaged GOoDS / sinneD in Reverse” Damaged Goods / Dennis in Reverse In reality this album could not have been completed without the help of our dear friend Bjorn Thorsrud (additional production, mastering & editing) Dennis always wanted to have Bjorn work on this album & when he offered to help it was a GODsend. I devoted my heart & soul into this record & when I finally completed it on the final playback, I broke into tears, my only wish was for Dennis to be proud & happy with this record as a testament to The Frogs legacy. This album is in 432 hertz, the highest energy that governs the universe, vibrates with the earth’s heartbeat, the golden ratio, divine proportion. We made music because it brought us joy & made life such a wonderful experience. The telepathic musical communication Dennis & I shared is innerstood, felt inside. With regards to words they would have you say understood, but none of us is beneath or under where any other human soul stands, we are all equal & equally divine. I love Dennis with all my heart, always have & always will. I am so happy & thank creation so much that I was able to be here on this day to fulfill Dennis & my dream for you to hear this our final Frogs album. This album is for you all the fans who drove all over the country to come to our shows, stood in line, supported us at our merch booths. We started out having fun playing music together in the garage, writing songs in our bedrooms, had absolutely no idea any & all of this would have happened, well it couldn’t have happened without you our fans, we love each & every one of you for showering us with your love all of these years. This album is dedicated to the fans. Love,         Jimmy