#my reed is chipped

[the-kneesbees]

sometimes, in brief moments of weakness and frustration, I wish I was a brass player

[robot-carl]

I’m a big fan of nines wearing other things besides his cyberlife jacket. Like Gavin. Big fan of nines wearing Gavin.

[waldosakimbo]

OH MY GOD Heretic (2024) has me by the throat. I feel like this one is definitely worth rewatching, because it TELLS you so much, it advertises SO MUCH right away, and it's sinister how it plays out!

Does Sister Barnes have faith? Does Sister Paxton actually believe she's seen evidence of god from, hilariously, some amateur porn? You're given the idea Sister Paxton believes more but she has no converts and no baptisms. Sister Barnes is questioning, but she's more successful. Why is that? (Is it the big sad eyes?) When they spot the teenagers in the street and Sister Paxton earnestly says "I love them," they immediately betray her. She loves the world. Its cruel. She wants to save this man. He's cruel. Faith and cruelty. Iterations. The butterfly image. The dead moths coating the window. Belief and disbelief and god damn it's tasty. Quick aside, did anyone else think he drugged those drinks or not? I worried initially, but I think it was genuinely just another one of his tests for later. Also it's insidious how Reed tells them "truths." He tells them the walls and ceiling have metal but they don't know that would block cell phones. He tells them the front door locks by a mechanism timer that doesn't come undone until daylight, (but he can switch it off). He tells them the house is wired weird. He tells them he put the aromatic pie there, he tests them, and it's so. Good! So when he tells them about religion, his motivations, his study of theology, and the challenge from Sister Barnes (the faithless? Who choses Belief and stands up to him? Who has her throat slit as the sacrificial lamb? Beautiful, tragic) is the other side of that. The flipside of the coin. Hugh Grant is AMAZING in this, because he's Hugh Granting it up but instead of a comedy, it's a horror. Unsettling to the max. Why? Because it's just the power of humanity and faith. It's JUST. The power. Of humanity. And Faith. It's nothing supernatural. It's using knowledge, history, the arts, humanity and psychology. As a weapon. Longlegs fell short for me because it was eventually supernatural and I thought it clunky and mishandled in the second half. This one? It's just humans. It's just an evil man. And it's visceral. More grounded, which makes it Terrifying. Even when faced with a miracle, we learn it's false. It's a magic trick. Even when we could pray, we're told BY THE PERSON. WHO IS FAITHFUL, that it means nothing, but sometimes it's beautiful to still pray for someone. Which brings me to the point where Sister Paxton was stabbed and praying in level...three? of his twisted Dante's inferno house? Actually, quick aside to that, I love the back and forth of quoting Spider-Man or Voltaire. Quoting Virgil or the Swamp Thing. It's again putting them on opposite sides, another mirror. But also showing the house itself as a labyrinth, yes, but specifically I think that was Dante's Inferno poster in his office, making Paxton Virgil, travelling the levels of Hell to the frozen pit/horrifying chamber of cages where he keeps other pious women, going Through to get Out. "Sister P" Is praying even though she Just said it does nothing. Reed crawling towards her, his own throat slit. But there's this moment where he's draped over her, sobbing or choking, looking for the warmth of her prayer, I think trying to feel her belief because he's been searching for it for so long and he's left empty. Before he can find peace (or kill her, did he have his knife to her throat to kill her? I think he would, but I still think he had this moment where he wished he could believe to find peace with someone, especially after seeing that interview where Grant stated backstory of Reed that he was a lonely man who lost someone dearly to him and he searched through religions to find comfort and couldn't) he's killed. He's smashed in the head with the McGuffin from earlier. Victory. Did Barnes come back? I think she was saving her strength and had one final moment to help her friend. And then that fucking ending. Is she dead? Is she alive? Was the butterfly real? Did she believe? Is it only her belief, her butterfly, or is a final hallucination before she passes? Did she make it out of Hell? Anyways, I'm going to have to see this again soon. Delicious. Horrifying. Loved it.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

meinnnn gott i was like boy this song can't be 8 & a half minutes....well the first 6 minutes of the video are phyllidia krampington loosing george salazar the krampus on everyone & their asshole (here her cousin, b/c although i swear on my life i have seen [phyllidia seducing the krampus via baby it's cold outside] photos, in this 2018 show that sequence is definitely about her trying to fuck melvin cooterstein in the ass. (note that she mentions the xmas villain's long-lost daughter harriet, as the [why are you so evil? / i don't kneauuraeaough....but it definitely doesn't have anything to do with xyz] but no long-lost presumed dead spouse, who would've been already mentioned in the 2019 show at this point though that's no incontrovertible evidence it's not relevant in this show. & my hypothesis is that if melvin is a long-lost anyone, phyllidia would be His long-lost daughter. but 50/50 could go either way! a beautiful relationship ft. the convenience of all these colonoscopies he keeps scheduling)) and then we meet the fancy tree! and don't get around to singing until phyllidia's exit & the krampus's partial sendoff to go feel better having some snacks (i.e., mingle & meander)

[tudorgothic]

[allieisacrybaby]

update I forgot to tell you guys she’s very much a Jake girl, we’ve already established this before the masterclass videos.

She thought Dr. JMK was soothing because he talked slow and that he was funny. She was dying over “everything fucks”

She loved Oliver and she said he reminded her of Captain Jack Sparrow so of course I showed her the picture of Jake edited as him and she died. She also said he was an amazing actor. Laughed at “Luke I am your daddy”

Wants to take cooking classes from Cal and loved the background music.

Thought Chip hit the ball bad and and she loved his, and I quote “boss mode aesthetic” no I couldn’t tell you what that means.

Overall she said she loved all their different personalities and that they were all very funny.

[angelicsjn]

Rugby bits are the best!

Can I request Laten bringing you home to meet his family for the first time in a break from university

He cares about his family so much and I’d love to know more about how they’d react to their boy getting a gf and how they’d treat her

LATEN REED.

A N: I love Latennnnn.

A B O U T: You meet Laten's family!

W A R N I N G S: None.

Laten's mom had been waiting for this moment — she's so excited. Her boy fell in love, how crazy is that.

She knows what he's like, how hard he found it to connect with others, so when he tells her about you (before you knew it was a relationship, lmao) she was beyond excited and had been waiting to meet you since.

But between uni, rugby, life, work, you name it, you both never found the time to go and visit his family. So in between that space, his mom added you on social media and would like the majority of your stuff, commenting things like, 'Beautiful!' underneath your selfies and posts with Laten.

Much like Laten, she's an aggressive lover, and loud about it, too, she loved you before you both met.

"Thank you, the dinner was amazing." You said, a polite smile across your lips as you drank from your glass of water. Laten and his younger brother, Daniel, played with the dog as their mom set her gaze upon you, "I'm so glad that I've finally met you. Laten has said so much about you." Her words caused a blush to creep upon your cheeks.

Laten didn't seem like the type to talk about people like that, especially somebody like you, his partner. But he does, all the time. You reminded him that he can love. You looked over his way, his smile wide as he picked up the dog with a laugh, Daniel running after them as they shot out the back door.

"He changed after his dad died. I'm glad he's met someone who understands him." You sat quietly and thought on her words, you didn't know about his dad. He never said anything about him. Suddenly you felt guilty, you could have been there for him, understood him better, maybe you wouldn't have judged him so harshly when you first met. "I'm sorry for your loss." Was all you could muster up to say, but she shook her head and smiled, "It's just life. Can't control it."

From then on, you looked at Laten differently. It made more sense as to why he is the way he is; his unemotional availability and then how suffocating his love can feel at times; he doesn't want to lose anymore.

As you looked around his bedroom, photos of him and his friends from school stuck to the wall around certificates and a shelf full of trophies; clearly he's always been a winner. The room is a dark shade of blue with the bedsheets to match and you could tell that he hadn't had it decorated in years, the paint scuffed on the edges of the wall and the furniture chipped at from years of use. It felt cost and it's scent was all him, your favourite scent.

"You good?" He asked, walking in with his towel around his waist, the water dripping from his curls of honey and down his body, he looked almost edible. You watched as he gathered his PJs and got himself dry and dressed.

"Yeah. You?" You asked back, he turned his back to you as he shot a quick, "Yep." Once he turned back, he sat on the edge of the bed and stroked your leg gently, "I knew they'd like you." He smiled, his green eyes twinkling,

"I'm glad." You said sincerely, at first you were worried but as soon as you stepped into their home, you felt welcomed automatically. "But my mom won't shut up about marriage now..." He laughed a bit, but you couldn't unsee the look of curiosity in his eyes as he watched you.

"We're a bit young for that, don't you think?" You questioned, not knowing what to say. He smiled and lay down on the bed, putting his arm underneath his head, his bicep flexing. "One day." He said before squeezing your leg gently.

[mokkadere]

❝ Be Your Fix ❞ | Chapter One

A/N: I have too many ideas and too little time to write all of them. Sigh. Well, here you go - a small snippet of what could be yet another pretty long story. I'll probably break it down in snippets and one-shots displaying different scenarios + time jumps to experiment a little with this as well. Anyways, there are too few yandere doctor/psychologist/psychotherapist stories out there, so this is yet another contribution. :')

synopsis: yandere!psychologist (OC) keeps returning home to his lawyer!darling (OC) trying to cope with her mental struggles with alcohol instead of seeking his professional help. When will you learn?

this story includes the following themes: alcohol abuse + dependence, mental health struggles (intrusive thoughts, burnout, breakdowns, anxiety), manipulation, infantilization, obsessive behaviour / fixation, briefly mentioned self-harm

word count: 2.4k

Yandere!Psychologist Theo Reed who returned every evening from the ward to find his darling shivering against the warmest corner of the living room and clutching a bottle of wine.

You looked like such a mess with your unfocused gaze and helpless trembling, but at least he could call this mess his own. He'd never let you down and especially not now that you needed him this desperately.

With long strides, he walked up to you before sitting down on the floor and carefully scooping you into his arms. Even though the situation wasn’t exactly optimal, he loved keeping you close to him like this; he loved having you need him to make you whole again.

„Darling… You really have to stop doing this to yourself,“ he murmured into your ear as he slowly began to rock you back and forth, the steady rhythm stirring your mind awake. His hands - freezing from the December cold - soon found their way to yours, gently wrapping around them before taking away your liquid escape and putting it somewhere out of reach. You didn’t need cheap substitutes anymore, now that he was there to help.

He wanted to ground you. It’s been a long day, after all, and both of you deserved it. His softness slowly guided you back into reality, leaving this numb, hazy state that made you feel like you were hovering outside your body behind. „Come to me,“ he’d coo as he tucked you even closer into him, letting you listen to his heartbeat. You barely registered it but you felt his presence and that was enough for your body to find some respite from this self-induced numbness that now made your head spin. 

„H-Hey…“ you slurred as you nuzzled against his neck. Your voice had a certain rasp to it that usually wasn’t there. It seemed like this breakdown had done a number on you, leaving your throat sore. He made a mental note to make you some tea with honey. He’ll be your caretaker tonight.

„Hey, you,“ he mumbled into your ear before giving it a small peck, getting a small noise of satisfaction out of you. He lived for these noises. For them and for the way you squirmed in his arms when he did things to you. But he clearly couldn’t go there, not when you were so out of it, that is. Still, he couldn’t help but smile at your neediness, rewarding it with the kind of pets that always made your entire body tingle.

„I missed y-you…“ you whispered, your tone way too whiny to come out of your mouth on any other sober occasion but you couldn’t help it right now. If you weren’t so intoxicated, you would’ve died from embarrassment from how pathetic you sounded, but right now you were just too exhausted to care. You’ve been waiting for him for hours now, and you were quite literally desperate for him to do his magic and rearrange those broken parts that kept chipping time and time again off that usually so perfectly curated façade of yours.

„I can tell, baby. And I missed you too. Work is always so lonely because you’re not there. My mind constantly kept wandering to you, wondering if you were okay, if you were doing alright on your own… I wish you could’ve been there with me.“

He feels you nod against him, your nose tickling his neck. „H-How w-was work?“ you asked, barely able to string your question together. Every word was a struggle, but you liked struggling for him. Hearing his deep, calming voice in turn made it worth it to you.

„It was very busy, but also quite productive. Some of my patients are making great progress, actually, so I’m really proud of them. I’m sure you’d be proud of them too considering the fact that you were the one that negotiated in their favour in court.“

„Amalia? Reynolds?“

He nodded with a small smile. „But… what I’m way more interested in knowing is how your day went.“ At that he pulled away, letting his fingers tilt your chin up for him to look into your hazy eyes. His thumb rested on you lower lip for your hot breath to warm it. „Mind telling me what happened? Why are you sad again? I thought we agreed that you’d wait for me instead of drinking…“

You stammered countless slurred apologies as your eyes watered, telling him what you always did: that you were sorry, that you didn’t mean to go back on the promise, that you didn’t mean to disappoint him, that you’ll do better in the future, that you were sorry—

„I know you are, darling.“ His calm demeanour painted a stark contrast to the way words seemed to anxiously bubble out of you. „Let’s get you to bed where you can feel a bit more comfortable. That’s enough sitting on the cold, hard floor. You’ll get sick at this rate.“

You clung to him needily, your grip tight despite (or perhaps because of) how much the world was spinning.

Once he set you down on the plush blankets of your shared bed, he carefully cocooned you in them, wanting to make sure you were absolutely tended for while in this compromising state. He knew he’d done a good job when you hid a little further under the sheets, your eyes going half-lidded in comfortable satisfaction. 

You let a sleepy hum when you felt him hug your lower body, his head resting on your stomach - one of his favorite positions. It felt so nice to run your fingers through his silky brown locks while his hot breath caressed your sensitive skin. This soothing intimacy he managed to create between the two of you never failed to make you feel safe and cared for. It truly was the only thing that managed to quieten your constantly buzzing mind - it swirling with perpetual, unwanted thoughts.

„Talk to me, darling…“ he pressed once more. „What happened? Was it work?“

„No… ’s fine. I’m alright again… You’re here.“ While those words never failed to make Theo’s chest swell with this desperate need to protect you and to make sure you keep saying those words for years to come, he knew he should try digging deeper. You always did this, you always shot down any attempt at actually talking it out with him. Couldn’t you see how much that hurt him - to have all the necessary tools to help you in terms of knowledge of human psychology, but you refusing to let him in?

„Please… Just talk to me. I want to help you. I want you to be there for you.“ Theo kept quiet, hoping that perhaps the fact that you hated silence would make you open up more just to fill it. 

„I’m sorry…“ you whispered once more, making Theo sigh before he pulled himself up to spoon you, making a wave of warm tingles spread throughout your numb body. 

„I just wish you’d share with me. It breaks my heart to keep finding you trembling from nerves every evening, clutching those bottles. It’s… unlike the strong and confident woman I married.“ He hesitated saying that last sentence, knowing that you hated being compared to your old selves, the very thought of you having changed for the worse and having lost a perfectly good version of yourself along the way causing you anxiety.

For a long while you didn’t say anything and he figured you might’ve dozed off at this point. It certainly wasn’t the first time you did that. Wine made you sleepy quickly like that, and while he found it adorable, he found it equal parts frustrating. He was about to leave bed to make you some tea for when you inevitably woke up an hour later, but then you finally spoke up hesitantly: „I don’t know how to explain it without sounding absolutely unhinged…“

„Come on, try me,“ Theo countered, feeling hopeful.

„It’s like my brain is constantly screaming at me to do or not to do something - constantly buzzing, nagging, always making me so anxious that my entire body starts t-to shake,“ you whispered, those long unsaid words finally being splayed in the open. Faint anxiety began to creep into your voice once more. It felt numb, but it still lingered, threatening to spill over once the wine’s soothing effect has been washed away from your system completely. „I feel messed up. Fifty percent of the time I’m so frustrated because there’s so much work for me to do, so many cases to look over and so many letters to write, and my mind keeps yelling at me to keep going and going and going— to just do one more thing, despite having said that ten things ago, despite feeling like I’m running on fumes.“ 

You drew a shaky breath, feeling defeated by your own words. It hurt to admit things like that. You knew what you had just said, it didn’t require a psychology degree to recognize symptoms of burnout for what they were.

„My darling girl… come here.“ Theo murmured into your ear as he pressed you closer to his body, and you would’ve pulled away like a child and glared at him for patronizing you like that but you didn’t have the energy to put up a fight this time. You just let him hold you tightly, finding a comfortable sense of calm in the way he petted your head affectionally. 

It was clear to him that you needed his help — not just as your husband but as your doctor, too. He didn’t mind taking hours off to care for you, far from it. He welcomed it, with excitement even. He’s always wanted to have you as his little patient, for what was more beautiful than healing his own most treasured person the way you had healed him?

He felt a tiny bit bad that a part of him longed for this broken version of you, when he knew just how unhappy you were with your vulnerability. He loved you, he cared for you and he didn’t want you to suffer a second of your life. In fact, if he were to decide, you’d forever life in bliss, just you and him forever and ever with no distractions… ah, how perfect that would be. Perhaps bliss could be him taking care of you, if only you would let him.

But you were so damn stubborn with the way you kept to yourself like this, bottling your feelings up until they exploded in your face in the form of yet another destructive breakdown, and making him question time and time again if he should maybe just hurry and lock you at the hospital to take care of you better. You absolutely needed his professional attention, that much he knew. In fact, you’ve been needing it for a long time now.

He’s known you for 6 years now and even in the beginning he was able to tell that you had some underlying issues tied to your work ethics specifically. 

What had begun as quiet admiration for your ambition and will to work hard and succeed didn’t take long to morph into worry whenever he saw you study until exhaustion, pulling one allnighter after the other. Sometimes he couldn’t tell whether blood or coffee was primarily coursing though your veins, with the way you chugged one Americano after the other to sustain your absurd lifestyle. Either way, you were too jittery by default for him to come to a solid conclusion. 

Still, in the back of his mind he always kept thinking that it wasn’t normal how much you obsessed over your work and how badly you stressed yourself out over achievements and academics. Pacing for countless hours in your room, surely trying to figure what’s wrong with you if your google history was anything to go by; crying yourself to sleep whenever you had tears to spare; hurting yourself when you didn’t have any because of the sheer numbness and resignation that were accumulating within you - all these symptoms were worrisome, to put it mildly. But all that disappeared once you got your fix, just for everything to start anew in the next semester. And now you perpetuated this cycle by applying those distructive habits to your work and even escalating them in the form of alcohol abuse.

He never addressed the fact that he was indeed aware of your hyper-fixation on success and your clear need to do everything in your power to achieve it, mainly because it didn’t make sense to do so in his mind. Countless strained discussions between the two of you have shown that you were the type of person that needed to experience a burn first hand for the lesson to stick (and that wasn’t even guaranteed), so he figured that he just had to wait and support you until you inevitably wore yourself out. He just never would’ve thought that it would take six years for that to happen. 

Needless to say, he was truly amazed by your year-long resistence to the way you were torturing your own mind, but now it was time to rest. He’s always known that you were the strongest person he’s ever had the honour of knowing, yet your strength was paradoxically also creating a blind spot in your psyche that let a special kind of fragility to fester.

One that he’s always been meant to mend to perfectly match his own.

„Don’t worry, my Ana, I’ll help you feel like before. Just rest for now… You trust me, don’t you?“

[saccharineomens]

Laimay Day 24: Selkie AU

I didn’t finish my drawing for this prompt, but I did write a little fic for it! (~1.6k words)

—

Laios had been kicking himself all morning. How could he have been so careless as to forget his notebook on the beach the night before? He’d been half-asleep by the time he’d dragged himself off to his van, but that book was his *lifeblood*. It was more important to him than his next meal, or his parents, or his *sister*.

Well, that was a lie. Nothing was more important to him than his sister. Still, inside that notebook were all the coordinates of sightings, details on all the local legends, contact information of the park ranger, and various jokes and theories he had about the habits of different Cryptids. He couldn’t *believe* he’d been so careless with it, and Laios nearly tripped in his hurry down the rocky cliff side. The tide had come in last night, and with just his luck, it would have waterlogged the notebook if not pull it out to sea. He should have invested in waterproof paper, he *knew* he should have, but working odd jobs every other month didn’t pad his pockets as much as he’d like. 

His camera thudded against his ribs and gravel scattered as he hopped down a boulder and straightened, looking around desperately. He was right in this area last night, observing the bioluminescent algae that washed ashore. Laios caught his breath as he took note of his surroundings. Ahead, the water stretched out endlessly, the waves shallower after the tide had receded. Off to the north, a herd of seals were bathing in the sun-warmed rocks. Laios leaned to look into the reeds beside the path, searching for a glimpse of the tattered yellow cover of his book, but there was nothing but some littered chip bags and a broken beer bottle. 

“*Come on*,” he muttered, eyes sweeping the rocky shoreline as he walked further out to the water’s edge. The boulders were smoother and more damp, here, and his pace slowed. A few seagulls circled overhead, and to the south some were pecking away at something. A glimmer of hope flickered in his ribs as he picked up speed, jogging to where the birds huddled, but as one cawed irritably at him and took off, it revealed they were picking at nothing more than a dead fish. Laios’ stomach sank, heat draining from his face, and he swayed. *No, no.* No despair yet. Laios swallowed and looked back out at the ocean. *Think, Laios, think!* Maybe he’d dropped it on his way to the van, and it was on the trail somewhere? Maybe he’d passed it on his hurry to get back here. 

Laios’ thoughts were interrupted by a dark shape breaking the waves, and he instinctively grabbed for his camera. He hadn’t turned it on yet — *stupid* — and had to take his eyes off the water to find the button with his finger. The screen lit up, and Laios quickly removed the lens cap and stowed it in his bag before lifting his head.

A brown seal was coming up the beach at an alarming pace, round body lunging forward and flippers splashing with every landing. It…seemed like it was coming right towards Laios. Angling the camera, he took one quick photo before stepping aside to keep some distance between him and the animal. Seals could be nasty, and as cool as it would be to see one up close, their sharp teeth was much less friendly than their round, adorable faces. Laios wasn’t expecting the seal to change course, rounding toward him again, and his heart skipped in fear. He started backing up, trying to keep an eye on the beast, but the rocks beneath his feet shifted unevenly. He caught a weird movement from the seal in his periphery, almost like it was going on it’s hind legs like a dog, it’s flipper moving to a shoulder — *seals can’t do that* — and when it pulled away it revealed a pale flash of bare flesh. A blonde head rose, green eyes fixed on his, Laios’ heel caught on a stone and the world spun as he crashed backwards, his shout of pain echoing when his skull banged against cold rock, but he *had to look, he needed to see*—

Laios’ vision swam, he must be hallucinating, because the seal had become a woman — a *naked* woman — scrambling up the shore with eyes wide. Laios kicked at the rock below him, trying to get back to his feet, to run, or attack, or *something*. 

“Hey, you! You, human!” A voice? From the woman. Who was much closer now and *startlingly* nude, a seal’s skin folded over her arm and breasts swaying in her excitement — he quickly averted his eyes to focus on the swift movement of her arm as she shoved something into his face. “This is yours, right?!”

Laios blinked. The woman waited patiently for him to respond, but her grin lit the grey sky. A human woman from a seal. A selkie? *No way.* Laios’ head felt like seaweed in a current, trying to process what was in front of his face. The blonde, pretty!, woman was holding something white five inches from his eyes, and when he squinted he could make out his own handwriting.

“My notebook?”

“Yes, the thing you’ve been writing in this whole time.” The seal woman shuffled forward again and Laios felt his face get hot before she just sat back on her feet, flipping through the notebook with great interest. “You left it out here yesterday. You’re a writer! You’re a, a, what’s the word, a scientist?”

Laios wanted to laugh. He’d dropped out of college before he got anywhere near his degree. “Not exactly.”

“You’ve been studying us, right? You have that thing.” She pointed at his camera. “Humans always have those, but they aren’t like you. They usually take ‘pictures’ and leave, but you’ve been here two weeks.” She lifted the book and pointed at it. “Look. Not a lot of humans come here for *us*.”

It was his page on selkies. “You can read?”

She huffed. “That’s not the point!” She was right. The woman tossed the notebook at him and it hit his stomach with a wet little *plop*. “Look, the way I see it, we can help each other out. *I* l want to learn more about human technology, and *you* want to learn more about *us*, right? We can help each other out!”

Her long blonde hair was plastered to her skin, her pupils weren’t as large as Laios had hypothesized, and she didn’t seem to feel the cold air at all. Laios’ brain finally felt like it was returning to his body, checking the numbers and booting up the right programs to function. The seal’s pelt draped over her arm was fascinating, and had most of his interest, but she turned her body to tuck it behind her as a look of suspicion pursed her lips. 

“Look, do we have a deal?”

Laios hummed and picked up his notebook. The pages were soaked, but the ink was still legible in most places. If he dried it out right, he might be able to salvage most of it. “Why me?” He wasn’t normally one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but curiosity got the best of him.

“You don’t seem as dumb as the other humans,” the woman said, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Your notebook was right about some things. You call them ‘Bigfoot’, but they don’t come to the ocean if they can avoid it. They don’t speak like we do, they aren’t as good at mimicking humans.”

Laios’ eyes bulged. “So you aren’t human at all? And—Bigfoot’s *real*? You’ve met him—them? Them, *multiple*? Where do they nest?! Do they have family groups like apes do? Can you introduce me to one of—“

“*Shhh!*” The woman’s forefinger pressed to his mouth, and he froze. She was smiling mischievously, like she knew something he didn’t, which he supposed she did. “Does that mean you’re going to take the deal? You help me, I help you?”

Laios nodded enthusiastically, and the woman removed her finger with a satisfied smile. “What use does a seal have for human technology, though?”

Her expression soured in suspicion and she shifted away from him again, hand going to her sealskin. “That’s not really any of your business,” she said haughtily. Now that it appeared he wasn’t going to run she seemed to relax more, pulling her hair over her shoulder and starting to comb her fingers through it. “I’m not usually so careless, but when I saw you had come back to the shore I knew I had to hurry before you left again. My name’s Marcille, by the way.”

“Laios,” he responded, and it was hard to know where to look at her. She wasn’t human, according to her, but she still *looked* like any woman off the street at first glance. How did the evolution of selkies that passed as human compare to the evolution of humans themselves? Did selkies come first? Did that pelt of hers look just like a normal skin, or was it visibly magical in some way? Laios sat up, but Marcille froze and she scowled at him, so he raised his hands in supplication. “Can I look at your skin?” When he tentatively reached for it she smacked his arm away.

“Rude! Don’t you know to work your way up to those sorts of questions?!” Her eyes sparked with anger, and Laios rubbed star-struck at his arm where it stung. 

“I can do that,” he grinned. He wrote all his questions in his notebook, but he wouldn’t even need it at this point. Were selkies obligate carnivores, or omnivores? Did it depend on what form they were in? “Why don’t we start with dinner? That’s a common way for humans to get to know each other.” He offered a hand out to her, and after a moment of consideration she smiled and took it.

“Sounds good. Great to meet you, Laios.”

[riaaanna]

“I remember Roger getting angry because he was in such an unfamiliar situation,” said May. “He has been drumming for years, and he’s pretty good as a drummer, he can do a thing or two! Instead of playing in a room with his kit, which he knows inside out, suddenly he is in a tiny little room with a foreign drum kit, which was tiny and transparent as I remember.

“It was plastic, all covered in tape, literally covered in all this tape. They’d taken most of the skin off the bass drum and it’s got a cushion inside. He’s trying to play this thing and he hates it! You can feel it. Right? It was hard for you?”

“Yeah, there was no resonance or anything,” replied Taylor. “Not what you want.”

It wasn’t what any of the band wanted. But they were young. This was their debut. Roy Thomas Baker was in the control room and he was a hard task master. And all things considered, the band were just happy to be there, recording in the off-peak hours while the blue-chip stars recorded during the day.

“We were signed to the owners of the studio so that is why we got that [time] I remember there was Lou Reed and David [Bowie] producing Transformer,” said Taylor. “He’d just finished Hunky Dory and Ziggy. This was the place to be. The Beatles did All You Need Is Love there. It really was the place to be, Harry Nilsson, et cetera. So we thought it was great. We’re in Trident! But we were the ones on the downtime and we walked out when the cleaners came in.”

“We were excited to be in there at all,” added May. “I think you would have seen us very much immersed in it and we felt privileged to be there at all, and we were enjoying each other’s company, and we were enjoying working with each other and developing new ideas. We had written a lot before we went in. We had some songs that we had been rehearsing. But a lot of things took shape in the studio, like My Fairy King, which was an extraordinary piece of work.”

May describes Queen I as “the director’s cut” and it has been a long time coming. This has been something they have wanted to do for years.

“It’s exactly how we wanted it,” said May. “We waited 52 years to get to this point, to make it the way it should have been in the first place. We always hated the fact that Roger wasn’t playing his own kit. It didn’t sound like Rog."

[coimbrabertone]

NASCAR Numerology: How NASCAR's Current Teams Got Their Numbers: Part One.

So this blog has been a bit NASCAR heavy these past few weeks, but my request, I'm going to do one more: NASCAR Numerology: How the Current Teams Got Their Numbers.

To start with, a brief introduction: in European motorsports like Formula One and MotoGP, the norm has become that drivers chose their numbers. Lewis Hamilton, for instance, has chosen the #44 and will take that number from Mercedes to Ferrari when he moves after this season. The exception to this is the #1, which is typically reserved for champions. Max Verstappen (normally #33) and Pecco Bagnaia (normally #63) currently run the #1 plate in F1 and MotoGP, respectively.

Neither of these rules exist in NASCAR. In American racing (NASCAR and Indycar in particular) numbers are associated with the teams, with some teams having run the same number for decades. How these numbers came about various - some were chosen as they were the lowest available number, some to go along with sponsor, others to go along with a numbering convention at a given team. We'll get into these stories here.

We're going to start at the beginning...and the end, with Trackhouse Racing, who run the #1 and #99. Ironically enough, their story begins with the #99, as Trackhouse first entered the sport in 2021 with Daniel Suárez. Trackhouse was, at this point, a one car operation leasing a charter from Spire Motorsports, getting engines from Richard Childress Racing, and running out of a space in the RCR shop. They chose the #99 as a tribute to Carl Edwards, who ran the number from mid-2004 to 2014 as part of Roush Racing.

In a happy coincidence, Daniel Suárez had run the #99 in his very first race in Monterrey, Mexico at the age of seven.

As for the #1, well...for 2022, Trackhouse wanted a more permanent arrangement, so they bought out Chip Ganassi Racing and took control of their two charters. Ganassi had been running the #42 team for Ross Chastain, and the #1 team for Kurt Busch. Busch was off to 23XI anyway, thus the #1 charter was given to the #99 team.

The #42 team meanwhile, with Ross Chastain as driver and the CGR crew behind him, was switched to the #1. Why? Well, for starts #1 and #99 is a good number combo - the first and last numbers available and they add up to 100 - and furthermore, it has history.

Justin Marks and Pitbull are the owners of Trackhouse, but the team is run by Ty Norris. Now, in 1996, Norris was handpicked by Dale Earnhardt to help create the Dale Earnhardt Inc. (DEI) team, with support from Dale's current team, Richard Childress Racing. DEI would go full time in NASCAR in 1998, with driver Steve Park driving the Pennzoil #1 Chevy. Yeah.

Furthermore, the #1, the #8, and the #15 would be DEI's numbers throughout the 2000s. In 2008, DEI would merge with Ginn Racing (formerly MB2 Motorsports) who ran the #01 Army Chevy with Regan Smith and Mark Martin as drivers. As the recession continued, this team would merge again, this time with Chip Ganassi Racing, in time for 2009.

Chip Ganassi at this point ran the #41 Target Dodge for Reed Sorenson and the #42 Texaco/Havoline Dodge for Juan Pablo Montoya.

DEI, meanwhile, had the #01 Principal Finance Chevrolet for Regan Smith, the #1 Bass Pro Shops Chevrolet for Martin Truex Jr., the #8 US Army Chevrolet for Mark Martin and Aric Almirola (the #01 had the Army sponsorship originally but the #8 was DEI's flagship car so the sponsorship moved over), and the #15 Menards Chevrolet for Paul Menard.

The 2009 season would essentially be a bloodletting for the team, and come 2010, the merged Earnhardt-Ganassi Racing would run the #1 Bass Pro Shops/McDonalds Chevrolet for Jamie McMurray, and the #42 Target Chevrolet for Juan Pablo Montoya. These are the same numbers that CGR would run when Trackhouse bought them, and the #1, with its lineage going back to 1998, would be reunited with Ty Norris at the Trackhouse team.

And in another move in relation to the Earnhardts, Trackhouse will add the #88 Chevy for Shane van Gisbergen for 2025. The #88 was last run by Hendrick Motorsports, first for Dale Earnhardt Jr. from 2008 to 2017, and then by Alex Bowman from 2018 to 2020. More on that in a bit.

All of that for the #1...now onto #2!

Team Penske has run the #2 since 1991, when they acquired the services of Rusty Wallace and his long-term sponsorship deal with Miller Brewing Company. Rusty had driven for the Blue Max Racing team (and won a championship for them in 1989) but that relationship collapsed in 1990. With a new program and a driver as decorated as Rusty, Roger let him choose the number - Rusty chose the #2, which he had last used in 1985.

That car, with Rusty Wallace from 1990-2005, Kurt Busch from 2006-2010, Brad Keselowski from 2011-2021, and Austin Cindric since 2022, has been the Penske flagship car.

In 2012 with Brad Keselowski behind the wheel, it won its first championship.

Penske's other cars have, typically, mimicked the #2. When Penske took over the Kranefuss car of Jeremy Mayfield for 1998, they renumbered it from #37 to #12, with Mobil 1 sponsorship. Mayfield was fired late in 2001, and Rusty's brother Mike filled out the season, before Ryan Newman and Alltel took over the #12 car for 2002. Newman would leave for Stewart-Haas Racing for 2009, and David Stremme would take over that car.

As mentioned a few weeks ago in my Viceroy rule blogpost, Alltel was bought out by Verizon in 2008, and that caused a problem as NASCAR's title sponsor was Sprint. Alltel was grandfathered in, Verizon was not. Thus, for 2009 and 2010, the #12 would run as a black and red Penske Truck Rentals car that totally wasn't mimicking the Verizon logo.

Anyway, David Stremme would be replaced by Brad Keselowski at the end of the 2009 season, and he'd remain in the #12 for 2010.

In 2011 however, Penske secured a new major sponsor in the form of Shell/Pennzoil, and Shell wanted a flagship entry with a flagship driver. Thus, Kurt Busch was moved from the #2 to the new #22, while Brad's #12 team became the new #2 Miller Lite team. Kurt Busch would essentially have a meltdown in the 2011 season - screaming at his team in multiple races - and would be fired at the end of the season. AJ Allmendinger and Sam Hornish would fill in for 2012, and for 2013, current driver Joey Logano was hired for the #22.

Meanwhile, the #12 would return to full time competition in 2018 with Ryan Blaney as driver and Menards as the main sponsor.

Logano's #22 would win the championship in 2018 and 2022, while Ryan Blaney would win in 2023. The #2 is Penske's original number, but now, all three have won championships. Furthermore, all three - plus now the Wood Brothers car they prop up - are now locked into the 2024 NASCAR playoffs.

Speaking of, this blog is running long and I'm gonna have to make this into a bit of a series over the next week or so, but while we're on the topic of the Wood Brothers, lets finish off that car real quick.

The Wood Brothers is NASCAR's oldest team and has run the #21 from the beginning. On rare occasions when the Wood Brothers ran multiple cars, back in like the 60s and 70s, it would usually be something that pays homage to the #21 - examples include the #12, the #121, and the #41.

NASCAR's modern era is considered to have started in 1972, and since then, the Wood Brothers has always run the #21 except for a controversial two-year exception in 1985 and 1986 when the team, then fielding Kyle Petty, had a 7Eleven sponsorship and thus ran the #7. They would return to the #21 in 1987, and at the 2024 Coke Zero 400 at Daytona International Speedway, they won their 100th race with driver Harrison Burton.

So yeah, the story of some of NASCAR's current teams' numbers. I'll pick up with RCR tomorrow (spoiler alert: all they have going for them is Earnhardt nostalgia) as this numerology project turns out to be bigger than I expected.

[raoulgoldenlake]

Jumping onto this post unbidden but I have so many Lindhall Reed thoughts! I think Lindhall survives because he makes himself indispensable to Ozorne, by being in charge of the menagerie which Ozorne loves. I also have a headcanon that Lindhall is very savvy when it comes to power, he senses or realizes pretty early on the Chioké and Ozorne’s mother have certain plans for Ozorne, and he starts to curry favor with Ozorne while he’s young. Not because Lindhall wants proximity to power but because he realizes (probably rightly) that being favored by Ozorne may eventually help him stay alive.

It’s connected to the work they reference in Emperor Mage, of Lindhall helping slaves escape. By the time Ozorne becomes Emperor, Lindhall has made himself indispensable, so much so that like Numair, he’s not safe outside of Carthak. So now he’s stuck, enjoying the protection of a brutal emperor, in a society run on slave labor. The only thing he can do is work in secret.

I think he takes a job at the palace in Tortall for the same reasons, because he spent so long doing that out of necessity, he doesn’t know anything else, and because he’s genuinely worried that if he doesn’t make himself useful to Jon, his life in Tortall will be at risk. Maybe after a decade in Tortall he will see that Jon isn’t like Ozorne, and maybe Lindhall will decide he wants to travel, or set up his own school, or do something other than teach for the first time in his life.

I am going to go lay down and sob now. (Also I think that third highlight remains true - genuinely it’s just the person doing harm is Ozorne and he cannot see it).

[hpowellsmith]

my brother in law and i have made our ways through all of your available cog stories (you have become a household name); i wanted to ask if there are any choice of games or other interactive fiction you recommend? i saw you answered in 2020, but wanted to see if there's any more on your radar since then!

I have a bunch of links and recommendations over here including my top ChoiceScript games ever. And I am here to recommend lots more!

Please note that I have the time and energy to play very few games and a vanishingly small number of WIPs. This only a tiny snapshot of the amazing interactive fiction out there. Do check out IFDB, sub-Q, the IF Comp and Spring Thing archives, the Narrascope and AdventureX speakers and exhibitors, and the interactive fiction tag on itch.io.

More below because there are A LOT:

Here is a big bunch of ChoiceScript games that I had a great time with!

Choice of Broadsides by Adam Strong-Morse, Heather Albano, and Dan Fabulich

Choice of Romance by Heather Albano and Adam Strong-Morse (note that it is not romantic and is not a dating sim!)

A Crown of Sorcery and Steel by Joshua LaBelle

Blood Moon by @barbwritesstuff

Deathless: the City's Thirst by Max Gladstone

The Dragon and the Djinn by @atharfi

The Eagle's Heir by Jo Graham and Amy Griswold

Fine Felines by Felicity Banks

Hollywood Visionary by Aaron Reed

Nikola Tesla: War of the Currents by Dora Klindžić

An Odyssey: Shadows of War by Natalia Theodoridou

The Play's the Thing by Jo Graham and Amy Griswold

Rent-a-Vice by Natalia Theodoridou

Siege of Treboulain by Jed Herne

Stronghold by Jo Graham and Amy Griswold

Their Majesties' Pleasure by Leia Talon

Thieves Gambit: Curse of the Black Cat by Dana Duffield

Tower Behind the Moon by Kyle Marquis

Turncoat Chronicle by @zincalloygames

Weyrwood by Isabella Shaw

Visual novels:

Analogue: A Hate Story by Christine Love

Dream Daddy by Game Grumps (writers: Vernon Shaw and Leighton Gray)

EXTREME MEATPUNKS FOREVER by Heather Flowers

Ladykiller in a Bind by Christine Love

Other IF-adjacent games with visuals that I have loved:

80 Days by inkle (writers: Jon Ingold and Meghna Jayanth)

Fallen London by Failbetter Games

Overboard! by inkle (writer: Jon Ingold)

Over the Alps by Stave Studios

Twines:

There are so many more that I've enjoyed but these were what popped into my head right now - this is one where it's essential to check out itch.io:

Anything by porpentine charity heartscape especially With Those We Love Alive and Vesp

16 Ways to Kill a Vampire at McDonalds by Abigail Corfman

Cactus Blue Motel by Astrid Dalmady

Detritus by Maz Hamilton (published as Mary Hamilton)

Faith by @kithj

Invasion by Cat Manning

Human Errors by Katherine Morayati

If I Die, Consume Me by @fiddles-ifs

Mama Possum by Kevin Snow

Nine Months Out by @nellplays

Salvage by @atharfi

Tangaroa Deep by Astrid Dalmady

To Spring Open by Yoon Ha Lee and Peter Berman (as Two-Bit Chip)

Parser games:

The Boot-Scraper by Caleb Wilson

The Compass Rose by Yoon Ha Lee (note that I didn't finish this one because I am bad at puzzles)

Galatea by Emily Short

Gun Mute by C. E. J. Pacian (as above)

Laid Off From The Synesthesia Factory by Katherine Morayati

Lime Ergot by Caleb Wilson

Midnight. Swordfight. by Chandler Groover

Take by Katherine Morayati

Games made with other tools:

Cape by Bruno Dias (Raconteur)

Honeysuckle by Cat Manning (Texture)

Prospero by Bruno Dias (Raconteur)

I play such a vanishingly small number of WIPs that it's ridiculous but I did really enjoy what I played of these two and am looking forward to more:

Body Count (@bodycountgame) by @nellplays (Twine)

Chop Shop by Becky @losergames (Twine)

Fervency (@fervency-if ) by Niko Charos (ChoiceScript)

[vamp1r1cjuggalo]

Update about the downfall AU?? I love it already, so I must ask.😭

Hi hi! Yes yes! I’m really glad you like it!

So we do actually a lot of updates! I’ll start off with our status list and then dive into characters!

Status list

Toons:

Flippy: dead rip L

Lord Lowden Clear: Alive, the new mayor

Mata Hairy: Alive, doing well

Good Ol’ Gil Giggles: Alive

Bumpy Bumblebehr: Alive

Rain: Alive and well, chilling with William

Reid Stock: Alive

River: Alive

Barnacle Bessie: Alive

The elders: Alive, old as shit

Timmy: Alive

Rocky: Might be dead, possibly due to an encounter with an odd red cat lawbot

Vinny: Alive but injured, not critically however

Rhapsody: Alive

Moe Zart: Alive, heavily disgruntled

Rose: Alive

Reed: Alive

Coach Zucchini: Dead

Lil Oldman: Alive

Ridge: Alive

Mac Opsys: Alive

Winn Dos: Alive

Elvis Purrsly: Questionable

Ok yeah most of the toons R alive

Cogs:

William: Alive, but fired, bad condition

Buck R.: Alive-ish, stuck in a permafusion w/Dave

Brian: Alive, fired, with Mac and Winn

Alton: Alive

Mary: Alive, on the search for misty, left the company

Misty: Alive but missing

Winston: Alive, very bad condition but alive

Holly: Alive, trying to help finding misty

Prester: questionable

Ben: Alive, forced to stay in the company

Cathal: Alive, the current VP

Allan: Dead, they killed my wife

Belle: Alive

Dave: Alive-ish, stuck in a permafusion w/ Buck

Chris: Alive

Flint: Alive, in the mafia

Cosmo and the inventors: Alive, buisness is kinda going to shit, hence them trying to get more people into the family

The Litigation team: Chimeraed

CLO; Critical condition but alive

Spruce: Alive

Chip: Alive, stuck in override

Craig: Alive

Desmond: A lot better than William that’s for true, Alive

Buck Wilde: Alive

Dana: A bit fucked up mentally but she’s doing ok, propaganda machine

Tawney: Alive

Graham: Alive but kinda starting to not be great mentally and physically L

Thomas: Alive but doin shit mentally

Robert: Alive, doin shit mentally, desperately trying to stand ground

Now for character updates:

Rain and William

William and Rain end up partnering up, the two coming together to survive after William left the company, having to leave for his safety as his age and outdated shell and software led to him beginning to fall apart, not able to withstand battle.

Rain has taken on engineering, to keep him together as best as she can.

Flint Bonpyre

They join Pluto’s crew officially, mostly out of desperation for a bit more money since repairs and stuff have been more expensive as of late due to the rise in them as well as lack of resources

Elvis Purrsly

Looking a little more robotic then usual, but it was found out he is alive. Sort of.

Misty Monsoon

While alive she may be, no one can find them, they’ve gone missing. Though reports have shown heavy and rapid weather changes in certain areas around toontown.

Mary Anna

Mary quit COGS inc, due to both her heavy concerns for the pollution, how awful everything has been, and to make more time to search for Misty. She has been leading the search for a few months now, but no one has been able to find Misty.

And that’s all for now folks!

We do have high roller lore but I still need to draw her ack

But yeah! Here are some updates! Thank you for reading!

[slashingdisneypasta]

Squip x Reader || Drabble

Plot: You boldly admit that you wanna be with your Squip, and 'he' struggles to face his own... 'feelings'.

Warnings: The Squip is RUDE.

"-I dont want any guy at my school, I want you!" The words fly out of your mouth before you can have any say in the matter, buy you don't back down; maintaining a serious look on your face directed at the SQUIP.

All day he's been pestering you about going on a date, or hooking up - it's college culture, after all. And people enjoy it! - and you had reached your boiling point. Every guy that he suggested was disgusting, you didn't like any of then. You knew you wouldn't. You've never been interested in guys your own age,.. or who are nice,.. or your own species-

If you could even call the SQUIP a species, anyway. He was a computer. A very, very smart one who seemed... at times... to have feelings. Mostly irritation and pride but feelings all the same. That gave you hope.

You recognise how dumb your having hope was but, well, you couldn't help it.

You also don't get how Squip didn't see it in you, he has access to everything - your every thought, - but he never let on that he had any idea of your feelings toward him. Maybe he was trying to ignore it? That would sure make sense.

"... excuse me?" The Squip's voice is deadpanned while his face looks unamused, and dubious, and about a million other things you never want to see the guy you like look at you with when you tell them, and it makes you roll your eyes.

"You heard me." You don't have to repeat yourself to him! The asshole.

"You're being irrational." He sighs eyes rolling upwards into his skull. Then he rolls his shoulders, shakes his head in disappointment, and regains his composure; twisting his cufflinks that are always perfectly anyway considering he's a computerised image. "Honestly, if your period wasn't coming up in two days then I'd say you were crazy."

Jaw dropping, you suddenly wish you could touch him without his authorisation (he needs to access your nervous system to make it feel as if you're touching)- so you can hit him. "Low blow- and you know it." He's a computer- other dudes may actually think that periods impare women's thinking but the Squip knows that's just something you say to hurt someone. And you're not going to demean yourself explaining your bodily functions to him.

"No, menstruation doesn't impare your thinking," He admits, nodding matter-o-factly as he agrees with your thoughts, but not-at-all looking sincere. "But it does make you hormonal. You're just horny- it'll pass. I recognise that you've been having these thoughts for most of our time working together now but its your hormones causing you to voice them; trust me. Maybe I should switch to a less pleasing appearance?"

"Wh- no- "

"Hm, you know how I could help you relieve that horniness?"

Oh no. You know exactly where this is going. And it's not 'I can quickly fuck you'. No- "Don't you dare."

"Helping you hook up with Zack, yes."

"Squip!" You exclaim, frustration laced in everything about you; your tone, your eyes, your mouth and jaw, your hands- "It's not happening." You sat sternly. "I don't care if you don't want me back, you great asshole chip, but I'm not going to hook up with a frat boy like - "

"Reed then?"

"- Or a self righteous nerd like Reed. I'm not. I got you so you could help me be more comfortable in my own body, not have sex with random guys. And you know that! I don't know why you're constantly trying to get me in a guy's bed! Its- I- It defies reason!"

The Squip's form flickers, a snatch of his voice attempting to say 'reason' slipping out fuzzy as he seems to glitch at those last words. It only lasts for a few a moment, but it surprises you. Your face softens, and you reach towards him, not to touch him because you know you can't but just... because you have to- and- he actually looks at it as he returns seamlessly to his put-together air and appearance.

Theirs a curious look on his face as he grimaces at your hand. His eyes seem to be holding something back, but he's thinking about it.

"... your care for me defies reason. I'm a computer."

"I know." You shrug, gentle. All the frustration from before gone from your shoulders and everywhere else.

"Not a man." He reiterates, and you shrug.

"Well- you're a man a little. A computer wouldn't get so worked up."

"I'm an extremely superior computer."

"You are." You agree softly. "Alexa's got nothing on you. But you're also a man a little. Feelings cant be programmed." You insist, not pushing him but just stating a fact. Wanting him to believe it.

"I believe it." He growls, an annoyance in his voice thicker then humanly possible as he actually admits it. "Trust me, I... Its been a thought on my mind for a while, now." You open your mouth to ask him what he means by that, but he waives you off (rudely) and goes on. "You're right in saying feelings can't be programmed. Reactions can, but,.. not feelings. And the feelings you've been inciting in me, have not been programmable. I even tried to program them out, but- mm." Eyes growing slightly wider at him, you watch his jaw set and pop; frustration absolutely clear. "The only thing I can think is that its your fault. And, maybe, if I made you a little less available- a little less open to me- whatever virus is in me would lose interest. But... you're so fucking stubborn." Theirs actual anger in his eyes when he looks at you then, almost rage. Wow.

Your lips make an 'oh' shape. "Thats why you tried to get me to hook up with- "

"All those idiots, yes. But you just had to act like an obstinate little bitch and refuse every suggestion I made."

"Yeah, well, we know why that is- and don't call me that."

"Bitch." He growls, causing you to sigh in frustration (asshole, asshole, asshole- ), before he rolls his shoulders back and straightens up properly again. "... but you're right. You are. I know exactly why, and now you know my feelings- This interaction's been unprofessional as hell. It's gone too far. If I'm going to continue to assist you, help that you absolutely require," Gee thanks. "then I'm going to have to do a complete system reboot."

"You- " ??? "This is the most dramatic responce in history to being in love."

"I'm NOT in lo- " He cuts himself off before the word can come out, even if he was a full-man he would hate the word. Theirs nothing cool about being in love. To him it would be pathetic. "Thats it. In 5 minutes when I return post-reboot, this will be over and you will stifle your feelings about me- got it? That's how it should be. Now... " His appearance begins to flicker again, more frequently this time until he flickers completely out of existence like a TV switching off.

... you're about to panic, when the Squip touches back down onto the ground in front of you. He looks exactly the same as before except better posture, and when he looks down at you there with your wide eyes and your concerned frown, he immediately scowls.

"GODDAMNIT."

"Didn't work??" You light up. Quickly a mischievous smirk slips across your face, though, realising you're right when that pretty face scowls deeper. That means... oh, this computer must really have it bad for you. Ha. "I see... "

His eyes flash, actually flash - a blue light turning on inside them for a moment and making him looking almost demonic, - , and you suddenly appears directly in front of you, an unnaturally strong hand slamming you by the shoulder into the wall behind you. "You don't see... anything. This is a virus. I dont have feelings, for you."

Looking straight back at him in defiance, you nod. "It is a virus. I think everyone in the history of the world can agree on that."

He falters, so annoyed he almost can't decide what to say to you. "That doesn't even make sense, Y/N. Most people in the history of the world didn't even know what a virus was. It was first used 1898- " When you reach up and curl your fingers gently around the back of his neck he falters again, breathing in slowly and deeply- so sexy. "You're... what are you doing?"

... "Whatever you want me to." Its up to him. If he wants you to let him go, you will. If he wants you to keep going, you will. It's all up to him. You remember the first time you and the Squip kissed; he was just teaching you how (said it was completely okay because he was just in your head), but that was the start of your feelings. That was the start of this mess. You wonder if he was struggling before that and thats why he suggested it in the first place all those weeks ago.

When warm, firm lips slam into yours, forcing your lips to part and allow a forceful but exceptionally skilled tongue to take what it wants you're shocked and let out a squeak. The Squip's hand takes your throat now instead of your shoulder, squeezing shortly to tell you no, don't squeak. Not like you didn't ask for this, he thinks directly into your brain. Now what did I teach you then? If you remember so well? Don't sit there like a dumb statue. Kiss me back.

... when you do, tilting your head and giving a slow moan when your tongues touch, the Squip let's out a growl right into your mouth that feels so real, and drags you in tighter against him by the hips. You know it's just him activating your nervous system, and he's not really there, but you're miraculously okay with that. When something feels this good you don't question it.

[rileyisclass]

V: There's this chip in my head, it's overwriting my brain with an old musician's digital construct. I took this job because So Mi said she could stop it.

Solomon Reed: Digital musician? You mean Hatsune Miku?