#nO WONDER ALAN WAS PISSED

[hide-your-bugs-away]

need to post my magnum opus before the sun sets on this wonderful May 18th

[roosterforme]

Wrong Number | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was planning on a quiet night at home with a beer and a basketball game on TV. When he receives a text from a wrong number, he's left looking at a beautiful photo of you. Now he just needs to persuade you to ditch the guy you meant to text and focus on him instead.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, slight dirty talk, Bradley touching himself

Length: 4700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for Rocktober. Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @thedroneranger

Bradley had endured such a long week at work, all he wanted to do was change out of his uniform, grab a beer from his fridge and lounge around on the couch in his underwear without a responsibility in sight. Nobody should have to work until ten on a Friday night, but it had taken him that long to sort through the massive stack of paperwork from Admiral Simpson. At least now he had nothing planned for the rest of his evening.

His apartment was too hot, and the cold bottle of beer pressed to his bare thigh as he reached for the TV remote left some droplets of condensation. It felt good. He took another sip as his phone vibrated next to him. With a soft grunt, he abandoned the remote in favor of the phone and unlocked it with his pass code.

There was a new text from an unknown number. And there was a photo attached. He grimaced, afraid of what he was going to find if he tapped on it. He read the phone number twice, but it didn't sound familiar beyond the San Diego area code. He let his head tip back as he recalled the time he pissed Nat off and she gave his phone number to a random sailor in retaliation. Bradley really hoped he wasn't going to have to kindly ask someone to stop sending him dick pics like last time. 

Before he lost the nerve, he tapped on the message, and his screen was suddenly filled with a photo of a woman who looked just a few years younger than him. And she was hot. He paused with his beer bottle halfway to his lips before letting it settle back down to his thigh. 

Hey, Alan. It's me. So now you have my phone number, too.

Bradley didn't know who the hell Alan was, but he wasn't mad about the mix-up. This photo was something else. It almost looked like it was taken in the bathroom at the Hard Deck. The lighting was bad, and there was a paper towel dispenser in the background, but whoever you were.... damn, you were stunning. All pretty features and smiling like you had a secret. 

It took him a moment to stop staring at the photo and return to the previous screen and your message. He was going to have to tell you that he wasn't Alan and that you had the wrong number, but he just sat there and tapped his phone case instead. He didn't even like the name Alan, but damn if he didn't want to be Alan right now. That lucky bastard had you interested in him. 

Bradley was wondering how the mix-up happened in the first place as he drafted up a text to you. Only some sort of fucking idiot wouldn't check and double check that he gave you the right number. "Amateurs," he mumbled as he typed with a little smirk on his face.

Hey, sorry to inform you, but this actually isn't Alan. However, I wouldn't mind one bit if you kept sending me the photos that are meant for him.

He hit send and tossed his phone aside, assuming you'd just block him and move on with your night. He brought his beer bottle back to his lips and enjoyed the way the drink helped cool him down while he contemplated taking a shower, but when he reached for the remote again, his phone vibrated. 

There was another message from the same number. Intrigued, Bradley unlocked his phone again, and he was pleased to see another text and another photo.

Hi, Not-Alan. Sorry about that! I hope you have a great night.

This photo was similar to the first one, except that you were flipping him the peace sign and winking which made Bradley laugh. You seemed fun, even through this limited interaction. And he was sure that was the ladies' bathroom at the Hard Deck, which pissed him off, because he got out of work so late he didn't feel like going out tonight. Maybe if he had been there, you wouldn't have been talking to Alan in the first place.

"Damn it." He was intrigued. He wanted to know more about this.

My night is substantially better now that I have two photos of you. So where did Alan get off to anyway? And why is he trying to steal my phone number?

This time Bradley was dying for another response. But it didn't come. He stared at his phone for a solid minute before returning to his beer and downing the rest of the bottle. Still nothing. He stood and made his way into the kitchen, tossing his empty into the recycling bin before getting another one from the fridge and eyeing up the food situation. He should probably eat something, but he swore he heard his phone vibrating. When he looked over to the couch, the screen was lit up. 

He slammed the fridge door and opened the new bottle before heading back to his phone. There was no photo this time, but there was a new message.

I actually lost Alan in the crowd, so really, the man could be just about anywhere. And I don't think he was trying to steal your number at all, Not-Alan. He wrote it on my palm, and it smeared before I could add it to my phone.

"Okay," Bradley said out loud. "Now we're getting somewhere." He sat down on the couch with his beer on the coffee table and started a new message. 

Alan should learn how to write neater in the future, because he's missing out here. You have to double check that someone who looks like you got the number right. Everyone knows that.

Bradley decided that he was going to have no shame for the night. Not as long as you kept writing back to him. He was contemplating how to save your number in his phone when another selfie with a message came through. You were out by the bar at the Hard Deck with a smile on your face, and you were holding up your palm complete with Bradley's smeared phone number.

Does this number look familiar, Not-Alan? Still no actual Alan in sight, by the way. 

Bradley supposed that the 7 could have been mistaken for a 1. Or maybe Alan's phone number had a 5 that got smeared into a 6. It didn't really matter. Bradley was going to shoot his shot and hope Alan didn't resurface. 

Good, Alan can just stay lost. What's your name, pretty girl?

Then he saved your number as Pretty Girl, and this time he did manage to turn the TV on while he waited with his phone in his hand. He muted the Clippers game and picked up his beer before promptly setting it back down again.

Pretty Girl: Not so fast, Not-Alan. You tell me your name first. And how old you are. And your blood type and the last four of your social security number. 

Bradley laughed and started typing. He realized he hadn't stopped smiling for the last twenty minutes as he hit send.

I'm Bradley. I'm 34. O positive. 2305.

On a regular night, the basketball game would have held his attention, but tonight he couldn't stop looking at his phone. "Come on, Pretty Girl," he muttered, running his beer bottle along his thigh before taking a sip. 

Pretty Girl: Okay, Bradley. You have my attention. Send me a selfie exactly where you are, and I'll think about telling you my name. No changing into something nicer. No fixing your hair. Just a selfie. Right now.

Bradley looked down at himself in just his black boxer briefs and mumbled, "If you say so." When he set his phone camera to selfie mode, he looked at the screen and realized his hair still looked pretty decent from work. So he went ahead and took a picture where he was wearing a bit of a skeptical smirk, and he sent it before he could think twice. 

And now his heart was beating a little faster. This was probably where you'd stop responding. Oh hell, at least he went for it, but a few minutes later, you still hadn't sent anything back to him. Maybe he could have tried to hide the scars on his neck and cheek, but what was the point? Clearly you were sending him actual selfies you'd taken tonight, and he did exactly what you'd told him to. Then his phone vibrated.

Pretty Girl: Do you really expect me to believe that you're not just googling "hot shirtless guy with a mustache", downloading a photo, and trying to pass it off as yourself?

He tipped his head back and laughed. There was just something about you. He didn't even know your name or what your voice sounded like, but he could already tell he was going to like both of those things. If you ever told him or let him hear you.

That's really me. Promise. Will you tell me your name now? Or do I have to keep calling you Pretty Girl?

He was wondering if you were still at the bar, surrounded by guys like Alan who would love to take you home while you were chatting with him. And he hoped the next text would contain your name. But you just ignored him when you wrote back a few minutes later. 

Pretty Girl: Prove you're not just sending some photos of a random hot dude. Go stand by your open refrigerator and take a selfie. Then take another one with your toothbrush. 

"She's a handful," Bradley murmured as he stood with a smile. He carried his beer into the kitchen, opened his refrigerator and snapped a selfie where the fridge light somehow accentuated his features nicely. Then he left his beer on the counter while he went into his bathroom. He was actively trying not to smile for this one where he had his red toothbrush hanging out of the side of his mouth, but he was on the verge of laughing at how ridiculous his night turned out to be. 

He typed up a message and attached both photos and then sent them off while he finished his beer at the kitchen counter, Clippers game forgotten. 

What is this, Pretty Girl? A hostage negotiation? I already told you, that's really me.

It didn't take too long for you to respond this time, and Bradley wasn't even letting his screen dim long enough to need to unlock it now.

Pretty Girl: Are you naked in these photos?

"Jesus," he muttered. Of course he wasn't. Did you want him to be? Shit, he needed to stop thinking about that.

No! I'm wearing underwear. You told me not to get changed or anything.

He felt flushed and too warm as he set his phone down on the counter and went to open some windows. Then he walked a few laps around his apartment in an effort to chill the fuck out. He wasn't even with you, and you were under his skin. 

When he returned to his phone, there was a selfie and a message waiting for him. In the photo, you were sipping a drink, and the way the straw pressed to your perfect lips had him practically moaning. 

Pretty Girl: My friend thinks there's something wrong with me. I'm at a Navy bar in San Diego at the moment. There are hot guys galore, and yet I'm glued to my phone. 

"Shit, shit, shit." Bradley thought about getting dressed and heading out to the bar himself. Then maybe he could hear you tell him your name in person right before he pulled the straw away from your mouth and kissed you.

How much longer are you going to be at the Hard Deck, Pretty Girl?

Bradley started heading for his bedroom closet when his phone vibrated in his hand.

Pretty Girl: How do you know I'm at the Hard Deck? Do I need to smash my phone to bits and go into hiding?

"Fuck," he grunted, typing so quickly he had to go back and fix several spelling errors before he could send it. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable, so he paused before getting any clothing out of his closet.

Because I'm in the Navy, and I live in San Diego. And I recognized the inside of the bathroom from the first photo you sent me. I swear I'm not creepy. You can ask Penny, the bartender and owner of that fine establishment. I spend enough time there. Show her my photo.

Bradley collapsed onto his bed with his forearm over his eyes and his phone clutched to his chest. He didn't have to check the time to know it had been a while since he texted you. He also didn't have to look at his phone to know it was after midnight now and that you and he had been chatting for almost two hours. Bradley jolted when the phone vibrated against his chest.

Pretty Girl: Okay. Alright. Penny is a sweetheart, and your story checks out. Also, she told me your call sign and then told me to have you verify what it is for my own peace of mind. So what is it, Bradley? And how do you know what the ladies' restroom here looks like?

Oh, he was going to owe Penny big time. He typed away as he lay sprawled out on his bed.

My call sign is Rooster. And as for your bathroom question.... are you really going to make me answer that?

Bradley closed his eyes and thought about the girl who had taken him into the bathroom with her last year. He was pretty sure she had brown hair, but other than that, he couldn't really recall. But he did remember looking at that paper towel holder on the wall and the framed photo of an F/A-14 that was hanging over it while he was in there with her. 

He wouldn't mind taking a trip there with you, that was for sure. Or maybe you and he could skip the scandalous bar hookup and just go right to dinner or a movie. For some reason, he thought he might actually prefer that.

Pretty Girl: Be back soon. I'm getting a ride home.

Bradley mused out loud, "It better not be from Alan." Shit, he could have offered to go pick you up and make sure you got home safely. He'd only had those two beers all night, and now he was picturing some faceless guy named Alan driving you home and pawing at you.

He texted you back.

Let me know when you get home, okay? And you can always just call me.

With a sigh, he got out of bed and plugged his phone in, not sure what to expect at this point. He went back into the bathroom and used his red toothbrush. And then he went back to the living room and closed all the windows. When he was in his room again, he had no new notifications as he climbed in bed. He was about to text you again and check in when his phone rang.

CALL FROM Pretty Girl

Bradley was smiling as he answered. "Hey, Pretty Girl."

A soft laugh preceded your voice, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek as you said, "Hi, Bradley with the O positive blood. Are you trying to tell me that you were in that bar bathroom with a girl?"

He found himself laughing. "Can I plead the fifth?"

When you moaned softly, he dropped his phone onto the pillow and had to scramble to get it. "Oh, my god. Even your voice is sexy."

Okay. He should not be on the verge of touching himself after you spoke three whole sentences to him. "You make it home safely?" he asked, trying to play it cool as he thought about those photos you sent him. 

"Mmhmm. A very nice man named Alan drove me home. He's right here next to me as I get changed for bed."

Bradley thought for a beat that he had met his match in you. "You better be lying. You know what, put Alan on the phone."

Your laughter filled him up as you said, "He's not really here. I had to ditch him, because he doesn't even have a mustache. Apparently that's a deal breaker for me now?"

Holy shit. Bradley was in trouble. He was getting turned on, and you weren't even really saying anything dirty. "You're killing me. You gonna tell me your name, Pretty Girl?"

"No. I think I'm going to hold onto it a little longer."

"Fine. But please explain to me how I've never seen you at the Hard Deck before. I'm certain I would remember your face."

Your voice sounded a little softer now as you said, "I just moved to Coronado. It was my first time at the bar."

If he hadn't worked so late today, Bradley would have probably been there tonight as well. "You had fun? You think you'll go back again?"

"Probably," you replied casually. "When do you think you'll be there?"

Bradley was so warm he was starting to sweat. "Pretty Girl, you just say the word, and I'll clear my whole damn calendar."

Your little sighs and soft giggles were going to be the death of him. "You know, I still have Alan's, or rather your phone number on my hand."

He imagined himself kissing your palm and rewriting his phone number. "Should be in my handwriting. I'll make sure I always bring a pen with me to the bar."

You cleared your throat softly, and Bradley imagined you climbing into bed. "Penny told me to watch out for some of the other guys. But she said you're okay."

"Just okay?"

"Actually, she called you a big, brown eyed puppy dog."

Bradley laughed. "I've been called worse."

"I'm sure you have," you replied quickly. "You deserve some sort of punishment for daring to look good with a mustache."

"It's a blessing and a curse. Now, are you going to send me another photo? Or are you going to just agree to meet me tomorrow night?"

He heard a rustling noise and then you softly said, "Alan is not going to like this one bit." And then another photo arrived, and this one had Bradley's mouth hanging open. 

"Now it's my turn to ask if you're naked in this picture." He was taking in every inch of your exposed skin and your bedding tucked up to your collar bones. You took your makeup off for bed, and you looked cozy and intimate. And you were talking to him. You were letting him see this. Bradley had to actively think about not touching himself. 

"Totally naked."

"Fuck."

"Send me another one?"

"Yeah," he grunted, swallowing hard as he tried to pose for another selfie just how he was, sprawled out on his pillow with his left arm bent and tucked back behind his head. But his cheeks looked flushed, and his eyes looked darker than usual. He was turned on. 

Fuck it. He snapped the photo and sent it. And about ten seconds later, he was greeted with the strangled sound you made.

"It should be illegal for someone with that mustache to look so good. It's rude, honestly. Bradley, you're kind of rude, because now I want to know...."

He was hanging on your every word. "Know what, Pretty Girl?"

The call went completely silent before you said softly and sweetly, "What your mustache feels like...everywhere."

A soft, startled laugh escaped his lips. You were on the verge of some dirty talk now, he could just tell. And his cock was hard as he replied with, "I'd love to let you find out. But before you respond, I need to know how much you've had to drink tonight. I don't want to take advantage of anything here."

You whimpered on the other end of the call. "A mustache, brown eyes, and a gentleman? All Alan did for me was buy me those two Long Island iced teas."

Bradley grunted and said, "That's enough about Alan. Why don't you go ahead and tell me where you'd like to feel my mustache first, Pretty Girl."

You squeaked and said, "I want to feel it rough along my skin right below my ear while you whisper to me. Oh my god, I can't believe I said that out loud. I should just go to bed."

"Don't hang up," Bradley said, panting with need now. "Tell me more."

"Okay," you sighed with another little squeak. "I want to feel it on my lips. While I'm sitting in your lap, licking the taste of that beer you drank from your mouth."

"Holy shit," he groaned, palming himself through his boxer briefs.

"I know," you whined with need. "And I want to feel it on the back of my neck while you do filthy things to me. And I don't even know you!"

"You will," he guaranteed. "Please, tell me what time I can meet you tomorrow."

Bradley listened to the rustle of your sheets as he waited. Then you finally said, "Seven o'clock? At the Hard Deck?"

"I'll be there, Pretty Girl. I can't wait to see you."

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

It was barely even 6:30, but you were already at the bar all made up and wearing a cute dress. Penny recognized you right away, which was kind of nice and kind of embarrassing. When she asked if you wanted another Long Island, you waved her off and said, "Nothing yet. I'm meeting someone."

Her eyes lit up as she asked, "Is it Rooster?"

You'd barely slept all night, preferring to look at the four selfies he'd sent you after you ended the call around two. There was a little more dirty talk, sure, but you and he also learned a bit more about each other. And now you were going to meet this naval aviator who was originally from Virginia but loved the Los Angeles Clippers face to face. 

"Yeah. It's Rooster."

Penny looked truly delighted. "You have nothing to worry about. He's very sweet."

"Tell that to the butterflies," you muttered as you placed one hand on your stomach for a beat, willing the nerves to dissipate as you walked away. You'd told Bradley you wanted his mustache on your body. In several places. And then he told you he thought you were so pretty and fun that he wanted to kiss you everywhere. And right now you were just mystified as to how this could have possibly happened only a week after you moved to this neighborhood. And you still didn't know what happened to Alan after you went to the ladies' bathroom and saved the wrong number in your phone.

You laughed when you thought about it, and then you ran your hands along the fabric of your dress. You were so antsy, your palms were sweaty. You looked down at yourself and just got more nervous. Bradley hadn't seen much of your body in the photos you'd sent to him. You'd seen plenty of his though, and he looked tall and muscular even next to his damn refrigerator. And his face was gorgeous, right down to that sinful looking mustache. 

And you were just... you. Alan was really more your speed with his nerdy glasses and messy hairstyle and his lack of ability to even grow any sort of facial hair at all. You just hoped that Bradley wouldn't take one look at you in person and walk right back out of the bar. 

You were about to tell Penny that you thought you needed a drink after all when the door caught your eye, and Bradley strolled into the bar like he owned the place. "Oh...fuck," you whispered, gaping at him as he ran his fingers through his hair. The photos hadn't even done him justice. He had to be over six feet tall, and he was so broad and muscular, he looked like he could pick you up and toss you around a little bit. "Shit." He was wearing some snug fitting jeans and a tropical print shirt like he just knew he could pull off the most ridiculous look. "Damn." He was glancing around, trying to find you while you started scouring the room unsuccessfully for another exit. 

You were trapped in here, and he was walking further into the bar now. And you didn't think you could hide halfway behind this couple who was making out for very much longer.  

As Bradley's eyes scanned the crowd again, he looked a little apprehensive. His brow was scrunched, and he checked the time on his watch. You knew it was almost seven. So you took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and then you scooted one step to your left. When his gaze came your way again, his eyes landed on you. And then his face softened. The apprehension melted away, and he smiled a cute and somehow sexy little grin that made you whimper.

Now he was heading your way, his gait sure and steady. And then he was just a few feet away and you could see the scars on his face that you'd studied all night in the photos. And you could see the flecks of gold in his eyes that somehow the selfies didn't capture. And then he was talking, and his voice was even better in person.

"Pretty Girl."

Okay, so he'd seen you up close, and he wasn't running away. That had to be a good sign, right? You managed to say just one slightly breathless word. "Hi." And then his smile grew, and he was closing the space between your body and his. He was reaching for your face and running one rough thumb along your cheek. And then he kissed you.

And the soft scrape of his mustache was even better than all of the ways you'd spent your night imagining it might feel. You couldn't help but return his kiss, and somehow your hands ended up pressed to the front of him, sliding up to his chest. 

When he broke the kiss, he stayed close, his lips not far from your face. He covered your hands with his, keeping them on his body. And then he leaned close to your ear, his mustache scraping along your soft skin there as he whispered, "Tell me your name, Pretty Girl. I'm dying here."

Soft laughter bubbled out of you as he pulled away from you a bit, and those butterflies were going wild. His eyes were fixed on your face, begging for an answer this time as he stroked your hands with his thumbs. And then you told him, and he tried your name out on his tongue a few times with that grin that you liked so much. He kept saying it softly until you kissed him this time, and then he guided your arms around his neck. 

"Listen," he said in that raspy voice that you'd love to focus on all night. "I have no problem staying here for a while if you want to. I bet you could even persuade me to join you in the ladies' room."

"Sounds tempting," you told him with a smirk.

"It really does. But we could also just ditch the bar and grab dinner instead? Maybe watch the Clippers game and have a drink at my place? I'm a little worried Alan might show up here and try to lure you away, if I'm being honest."

You practically snorted with laughter. "I can't even really remember what Alan looks like. He was totally gone from my mind after the first selfie you sent me. Let's get out of here."

He took you by the hand. "Anything you want, Pretty Girl."

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

I love dreamy loverboy Bradley, and I love Pretty Girl too. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[tokyo-debunkers-headcanons]

Vagastrom (+ Lucas my bbi 💖) and MC are absent-minded and forgetful

(I'm thinking about Leo's expression when MC forgot about their date 🙋🏻‍♀️)

This is me deadass lol! Thank you for sending in a request!

ALAN MIDO

Alan would be worried that something happened at first. He would get Sho to call MC and see if they were alright.

He wouldn't catch on until sometime later when they were at the garage and he asked them to grab him a tool that he left in the other room, while he worked on a car.

He would hear them walk away. He'd wait patiently, wondering if maybe they didn't know what the tool he asked for looked like. After a few minutes of silence he would slide out from under the car and find them doing something else. When they explained that they forgot as soon as they came into the room. It all clicked.

He'll actually be pretty patient with them. He understands what its like to not be the best at something (like him and tech) so he won't yell or get pissy when they forget something.

He'll drop a gentle reminder any time he sees them, especially if its something important like medication or an important appointment.

SHOHEI HAIZONO "SHO"

.

Sho will at first think something happened. He'll shoot them a quick text to ask where the hell they are. And when they tell him he forgot he'll roll his eyes and remind them.

With a brother like his (iykyk) he's used to that sort of thing, so it doesn't bother him too much.

The only time it will genuinely piss him off is if MC forgot that he was making food and they go out to eat. Like they grabbed fast food when he already made dinner.

I HC Sho as someone who hates wasting good food. So if there's one way to piss him off its that.

He wouldn't snap at MC but he would give them a bit of a lecture before a short while of silent treatment. Its not just about the food though. Its about the fact that he put so much effort into something and they just forgot.

Once he learned that it was kinda who they were he'll be more forgiving but he'll still get pissed.

LEO KUROSAGI

Okay Leo is petty when it first happens. If Sho gives them a littl a while of silent treatment, Leo will straight up act like they don't exist until they've either apologized with starbies or he's satisfied.

Once he learns its not their fault, he'll still be petty but he'll set alarms on their phone. He isn't going to spam call or text them. That's super desperate and ugly in his opinion (even if he wants to)

Leo is one of those guys who will stay mad if they forgot. The only time he won't is if it was an emergency (like they're dead)

LUCAS ERRANT "LUCA"

Our boi Luca doesn't get mad. He gets a little one track minded himself (obviously) she he's always patient with MC.

He'll pick up on it faster than Alan though, thats for sure. He'll give them gentle reminders every now and then and try to keep them on track when they're together.

If he's not with them he'll send them texts about what they may have to do. If they asked him to he'd even try to find ways to help: giving them a list, reminding them, setting alarms, etc.

He can't lie that it does upset him a little when they forget about dates or important things, but he tries not to take it personally. That and he'll tell MC how he's feeling and why.

[certifiedcy-n]

Animator vs Animation 11

Oh gosh. That was one hell of a rollercoaster ride.

After watching the video... I have to admit, what Victim saw was that TCO was a powerful entity and allies with the cursor, sent to ruin his life on the Outernet. So, the question is,

Does Victim deserve a karma arc?

I mean, if a stick that looks like you killed the love of your life and destroyed everything you worked for, I would be pissed. It seems like Victim doesn't know that TDL was also a part of the terrorist attacks. There is so much things just pushed into this one video, so: This explains how TSC revived the colour gang; with the green internet power thingies. I wonder how TSC has those powers? Victim definitely has PTSD over cursors, judging by how he got killed over and over, who wouldn't?

awww look at them Can I just say; oh my days. Oh my days. Victim and Mitsi are so cute. I was wondering if Mitsi would die while I was watching the livestream and whoops. I jinxed it.

Purple and his family are shown in the video, which I think is cool. It also explains how sticks from the Outernet are created.

TCO and TDL - oh my- like, we all knew they were cyber-terrorists or whatever, but that is genuinely so messed up. I need to know why they decided to destroy the city. The fact that TCO and TDL did a little high-five (cute, but like, wrong time, wrong place lol) means that didn't have any sympathy for the citizens.

Reading the magazines on the wall nearly at the end of the video; Vic didn't want to continue his business after the terrorist attack, leading to their downfall, seeing the (ex)workers quit Rocket Corp. and stuff.

Also, TDL wasn't shown on the papers.

Only TCO was.

I wonder if that means something. I wonder if TDL set TCO up so everyone thinks he's the one doing the terrorist attacks by himself? Unlikely, but still. Also, Vic never knew TDL existed, or that he was part of the terrorist attacks. That explains why TCO was wanted for Rocket Corp., and TDL never was.

ALSO, WHAT IS THIS, ALAN.

Oh my days. I think I won't be able to sleep tonight...

[themultifandomgal]

From 2010- Rumours Turn Into A Break Up

2011

Part 11

Band members

YN YLN and Harry styles dating?

12/05/2011 4;05

Band members Harry Styles (17) and YN YLN (17) were seen cosying up together on the recent episode of Alan Carr Chatty Man.

The band One Direction came 3rd in X-Factor last year and while it looks like everyone in the band have become close friends, two in particular seem to be getting on very well. Dating rumours have only gotten stronger when the pair were seen together out in London laughing. YN was seen linking her arm into Harry’s while walking down the street.

We wonder how YN’s high school and long term boyfriend James Madison is feeling with all of these possible dating rumours.

I close down the tab on my laptop with a sigh and look up at Simon who looks pissed

“Harry and I are just friends” I say in defence

“I know that, but if girls think Harry is in a relationship then we will lose many fans. Clear this up” Simon points at me and leaves the room

“How am I supposed to clear up dating rumours? If I say that Harry and I are just friends then I will be called a liar” I throw myself back onto the sofa next to Zayn

“Just send out a tweet to appease the big man. Then ignore anything else that’s said” Louis says putting an arm around my shoulders

“I guess that’s all I can do” I say getting out my phone from my back pocket and putting out a tweet, but almost immediately I see hate coming through.

“Hey” I answer the phone to Emma sadly

“Hey YN. How are you doing?”

“Not great to be honest”

“I’m about to tell you something that’s not going to make you any happier. Sorry”

“What’s up?” I ask frowning even though Emma can’t see me

“You remember that party James went to while your were in LA?”

“Yeah”

“Well Alex told me that Mia sent him a photo of James kissing someone” I can feel my heart drop almost immediately “YN it was with a guy. I think James is gay, or curious or… I’m not really sure, but Alex sent me the photo. I can send it you, but I’m not sure you want to see that”

“No no. I trust you. Thank you for telling me. I’ll have a word with him” I glance at the bedroom door where James is

“Ok. Do you want me to come over?”

“Maybe. I’ll ring you later” I end the call and make my way to the bedroom. I stand in the door way with my arms crossed watching James on his phone

“Are you coming in or you just going to stare at me?”

“I’m just trying to decided whether I’m going to yell or cry or maybe both”

“Why?” James frowns putting his phone down

“Who were you texting?”

“Does it matter”

“Yes it fucking does matter!” I shout “who were you texting?”

“A friend”

“Girl or boy?”

“Why does that matter?” James stands up from the bed

“Because I wanna know if your cheating on me”

“Boy! Ok I’m not cheating. I’m texting a friend”

“What about the party you went to while I was in LA? Emma said you were drunk. Who did you hang around with?”

“A friend. God YN I can have friends”

“So do you kiss all your friends or just your best friends?”

“What?” James looks shocked

“I’m talking about you kissing someone! You cheated on me! How could you?” My eyes start to tear up. James looks defeated and sits down on the bed

“YN…”

“I guess I’m not your type” I laugh sadly “why did you move with me if you were just going to cheat?” James looks up at me

“I… I made a friend over here”

“A friend? Or a boyfriend? God James if you were gay why couldn’t you have just told me? We could have split up on good terms, you could have still moved in with me, but instead you cheat?”

“You were busy and I thought you’d not notice since you and Harry…”

“Are friends!”

“Don’t give me that crap. I see the way you look at him”

“Like what?” I throw my hands in the air

“You like him”

“He’s a friend, and actually a friend unlike your version where you kiss and probably do more. You know what I’m done with this conversation. We’re done” I turn and leave our apartment and head over to Harry and Louis’ place.

"Boys suck" I say walking into their place huffing as I sit in between Harry and Louis. The other boys are here also

"Gee thanks" Zayn jokes laughing, but once he sees my face he stops

"What's happened?" Harry asks frowning

“I just found out that my boyfriend would rather kiss his friends than me. His male friends by the way”

“He’s gay?”

“I think so. Maybe? I don’t care if he is, I care that cheated on me”

"Are you ok?" Liam asks and I give him a shrug

"I don't know how to feel to be honest. I think l'm pissed off more than anything”

"What a dick" Niall sighs

"I'm sorry YN" Zayn gives me a small smile

"It's ok, but thanks"

"Let's go get ice cream, watch as manny chick flicks as ya like and I'll even let ya paint me nails" Harry says standing up "tha's what girls do innit?"

“What?” I chuckle looking at Harry

"Well if Emma can't be here to cheer you up, then we will become your girlfriends for the night" I give the boys a smile feeling so happy that I have not only the best bandmates, but also best friends.

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

I am already so gone for Alan & Jeff.

Age gaps can be so tricky, but I think it works because Jeff is so serious and mature. And Alan doesn't come across as creepy, just affectionate. Sailub and Pon are playing it so well.

Although I will never stop laughing at this image of Sailub learning about his character's love interest during casting.

Who knew it would work so well!

We learned a lot this episode! So...alphas are mutants, lol.

And Tony collects the kids, but they don't know about each other. Which makes sense with how in the casting announcement, they mentioned multiple characters who had been "adopted" by Tony.

And I definitely think Charlie & Jeff are two of them, but are breaking free to do their own thing.

And not to spoil anything for those not keeping up with @pharawee's book recaps, but if Jeff's ability is the same in the book, I am wondering if it is touch-triggered - because of this face when Alan puts his hand on him:

And he certainly has no problem touching Charlie. It's only Alan he seems to react to this way. And keep running away from. Heh heh.

The Babe & Charlie moments were so sweet here. Babe gave in to the kissing so quickly. He down bad.

Babe clearly needs to be babied so badly.

Holy shit this man is so goddamn pretty.

I like how they're handling Babe's character. He's been hurt so much and so desperately wants love. Yeah, it'd be great if he would confront Charlie more directly, but he's scared of what he'll learn. He's already in love and yet doesn't want to deal with what that means, both in terms of if Charlie is someone sent by Tony to destroy him, or if this is a shot at a real loving relationship.

And we are definitely setting up both Dean & Kim to swap sides at some point. Kim has integrity

and Dean is going to get pissed when Charlie is given an opportunity that he wanted.

Oh yeah, when you get the big sponsor and bring in that chicken nugget money!

Live it up boys!

[lmh8903]

Benny Rodriguez x Reader Pt 1.

Lil intro: Hi, my name is Y/N McClennan, I'm the older sister of Alan McClennan, but everyone calls him YeahYeah. I am 17 years old, a junior, and I have the best boyfriend ever, Phillips.  I love baseball. I used to play at the Sandlot with the boys, but when I started dating Phillips, the boys got really pissed at me. It's been about a year since I've touched a baseball or even talked to my old friends, which was when I started dating Phillips. This has been incredibly hard since the boys have been my best friends for as long as I can remember. However, the only thing  I can really do about it now is to accept the fact that I broke their trust. Especially Benny's. 

Actual Story: Y/N's POV

I was incredibly excited for today. It was finally the official last day of my junior year. After a long and anticipated wait, school just got out, and now it's time for one of my last summers in the San Fernando Valley.

Of course, as part of my everyday routine, I walked up to Phillips's locker. "Hey," I said.

"Hey, baby," Phillips replied as he kissed my cheek. He grabbed my hand, and I gladly took it, but out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something unusual. Benny was looking at us, and it was clear he wasn't too thrilled.

This made me a little upset and curious because Benny and I were best friends for almost as long as I can remember. The day that our friendship ended was the day that I told him I started dating Phillips, which will be a year in two days. Everyone except Scotty and my brother rebelled to get me off their team, and we haven't talked since.

I still remember how he looked when I told him. He didn't look pissed off, he just looked sad and disappointed. The pain in his eyes, the betrayal. I understand that he and Phillips don't get along, but as my best friend, I was hoping he would have been supportive. I didn't realize I was thinking so much until Phillips cut me off.

"You okay babe?" Phillips asked.

"Yeah, of course, I'm fine," I replied with a slight smile.

He turned around, clearly knowing I was lying. Benny was still looking at us. "You're looking at Rodriguez?" Phillips asked.

"Oh, um yeah. I just wanted to make sure he saw this," I said as I passionately kissed Phillips. I don't even know why I did this. I would've liked to have mended my relationship with Benny, but this just shows that I don't care. How could I be so fucking stupid?

We pulled away when we heard a locker door and a door slam. I looked at where Benny was standing. He was gone. I could tell he was infuriated. I could kind of feel his pain in a way. It was obvious Benny was irritated when he saw us before I made the rash decision of kissing Phillips in front of him. I should have just left it at that.

In all honesty, I've always had a little crush on Benny. The way he is so passionate about baseball, it's pretty hot. Once Benny and I talked about the future, and what we wanted. He made it very clear that he did not have time for a relationship, nor did he want one. I knew at that moment I had to move on. So, I went with someone who had put in the effort of trying to impress me and decided to give him a chance.

I love Phillips, I mean, he's great, and we're super happy, but sometimes I wonder how happy I would be with Benny. I really miss him. After all, he was my best friend. I'm going to talk to Yeah-Yeah when I get home to see if the boys would let me back on the team. They really were the best and most loyal friends a girl could have. And what did I do? I started dating their enemy. Like who does that? Thinking about it now, I see why they kicked me off the team, and I wouldn't blame them if they didn't want to be friends again.

After thinking, Phillips and I start walking to his house. It's only a couple of blocks, so we don't feel the need to drive. It's nice walking with him. It's giving me time to clear my head and push out any doubts that I have.

Phillips then breaks the silence, "Y/N, are you okay? You've been acting weird since we saw Rodriguez." I sigh and reply, "I don't know. I just really miss my friends. I love you, and you know that, but I just wish they would get over it." Phillips responds, "I know you miss them. You also need to understand that, besides Rodriguez, there's an age difference there. They're only 14 and 15. Them being like this is somewhat valid, they're supposed to be immature, you know? Rodriguez, on the other hand, that's just immature." I don't say anything; I just give him a peck on the cheek and smile. We look up to see that we're standing outside his house. We go in, start watching movies, and cuddle.

After we get done hanging out at his house, I kiss Phillips goodbye, get in my car that I drove over to his house before school, and drive home. I start bawling in the car. Phillips made a lot of sense, but it doesn't hurt any less. I reach my driveway, park my car, and then head inside my house. I walk to Yeah-Yeah's room to go talk to him and see how the boys are doing. Once I get to his room, he's not in there. I guess he's still out with them. I then walk to my room and try to go to sleep in order to prevent myself from crying again. 

After struggling to fall asleep for a few hours, I left my bedroom. I look in Yeah-Yeah's room to see if he's home. He's passed out cold. I have no one to talk to currently, so I  walk to the one place I can fully clear my thoughts. 

Lmk if y’all want part 2!! <3

[pruneunfair]

Characters I hate the most in remarried empress

5:Heinrey

A lot of people dislike him now for being a cruel bastard to the point of torturing foreign nobles just so he can favor his wife. While that is messed up I'll take that over his constant "UwU my queen~" persona that he displays 90% of the time because at least the former is the remnants of his inital personality. It goes from kind of funny to straight up cringey, I do not see what Navier likes so much about his puppy guise, he's so low because to be fair, he was introduced as a scumbag (kind of), he just spends so much time simping that it's basically tossed to the side

4:Lebetti

I know a lot of fans say Lebetti is young and can learn better, she's 17 sure but it took her entire family being executed just so she'd be inclined to care about Ian. She's basically a mini me of Lotteshu and when's she not doing that, she's another blind Navier worshipper who is used for as a stand in for the reader, I don't know how fans didn't realize their stand in is a slave owner but I digress. The only reason she's at number 4 is that while I do find messed up she gets to raise Rashtas child and likely feed a biased view of her to Ian, if she really wanted to be evil, she would've let Ian become a slave for his mother's crimes so I guess there's that.

3:Kaufman

Jesus christ this man is a walking, talking manifestation of second ML syndrome. He's essentially a plot device for no other purpose other than propping up Navier as so beautiful that multiple royal guys want her and so shit can go down , And of course the obvious slipping love potions in others for no other reason then "the plot calls for it", he doesn't even face the consequences. He's fucking creepy as well since he's STILL in love with Navier even after she's married and pregnant GET OVER IT MAN! In the end he just gets with Charlotte (Kosairs ex fiancé) so writting wise: his whole "nice guy" problems can be solved

2:Alan

I really just have a personal vendetta against the whole Rimwell family. The moment I lost all hope in remarried empress is when I was expected to sympathize with a rapist. The narrative wants readers to believe Alan was wronged even though he was the one to participate in keeping Ian away from Rashta until she got rich, even though it was HIM who decided to abandon Rashta after she wanted to run away with him. Yeah he's a good father so what? Wow! A dad actually raising his kid how amazing, it's almost like that's called the bare minimum. The moment he tried to say that Ian deserved to be treated like a prince because he was Rashtas son is when the comments finally saw him for what he was, he makes up for all this by getting executed in the end

1:Laura

Your probably wondering out of all these scumbags, why is a random side character on top? Well, the characters below at some point had personality traits that made then complex characters in the past or they did something to make up a little for it making them a tiny bit more tolerable. Laura however has never once shown any signs of any other personality other than "Your majesty! Your so wonderful and the best! That slave needs to know its place around you!" At least all Naviers other ladies in waiting have some sort of gimmick to them or in rare cases they have other stories going on with just them. Laura's gimmick is that she is willing to hit a slave for Navier even if said slave made a genuine mistake and isn't used to palace intrigue. Her face pisses me off everytime I look at it and everytime she speaks it's never anything besides love for the leads and hatred for anyone against Navier. she needs to get off her glazing and go back to bullying Cinderella with her evil stepsister design she's got.

Anyway let me know if there's any other manhwa/comic to rant about because I'm sure everyone's probably tired of me bitching about remarried empress

[thecomfywriter]

What meaning does von doro have to you as the author? What insight would you like to share?

OOOO THIS IS INTERESTING. thank you for the ask, wyked! let's dive in!

day six of tcw's 12 days of askmas--the author's analysis of von doro [EXTREME SPOILERS TREAD WITH WARNING I HAVE NO FILTER RIGHT NOW]:

oh boy... i'm going to do one more disclaimer before i actually go on a tangent. it is past 12am, i'm listening to evan's playlist, and my filter is gone so let's see how yamble-y this gets.

DISLAIMER: I AM GOING TO BE GOING ON A TANGENT. BE WARNED FOR SPOILERS !!!

--

we're good? okay cool.

what does von doro mean to me as the author? there are so many ways i can interpret this question: her symbolism, her role in the narrative, the type of character she is, her archetype, her ending... everything. but if i had to summarize it into one word, i'd say this:

tragic.

von doro, in my opinion, is one of the biggest tragedies in the entire duology. more than alan. more than caramel. more than all of them. von doro was born and groomed from the very beginning to inherit a curse, and despite fulfilling her duties perfectly, she never got liberated from it in her lifespan. nothing about von doro's story is fair, to the point where it honestly pisses me off.

the more i think about her, especially the story from her perspective, the more AWFUL i feel for her. she was born for this role. locked away from society and trapped inside the volcano so she couldn't develop any attachments for anything, and she didn't accidentally disregulate her emotions. she had no social life. no forms of happiness. no family. no shot at ANYTHING. she just stayed locked away in the volcano for centuries. all with one task, which was to not let the volcano explode.

the smoke destroyed her lung and voice. the sounds of the gods in her head rattled her brain and made her lose her sense of reality. she forgot her own name at one point. she didn't see the sunset. didn't get to take a breath of fresh air. she didn't even get to see the kingdom she was born to protect. all the while, everyone curses her out as the "beast that threatens us with explosions".

and she does everything without complaint. she takes care of the cairoyas and the dragons. she raises those eggs and watches them from the distant shadows they cast over her den. occassionally, her jervees visit her, but no one ever stays. no one can.

that's why jer'vazir meant so much to her. he stayed. he visited. he helped her remember her name again. he helped her feel for once. and that was dangerous.

and then, the age of limiouses. it was glorious. it was a walk in the park. it was easy. life was getting easier. she was getting closer to liberation.

and then HILBERT.

THIS BRUIBIFNJF.

i can't even begin to describe how much of a villain i see hilbert as. because bro unravelled her entire life with his pride, arrogancy, and "ambition." he literally tore everything apart, brick by brick, piece by piece.

turned soilaila against her. caused riots and a civil war. don't even ask about the other limiouses. hunted down and massacred every single dragon. the last straw was killing the last dragon, then laughing in jer'vazir's face and telling him he did it "proudly".

she broke. the resolve of apathy she had mastered had been slowly crumbling with her new feelings, but the loss of all her dragons completely shattered her. and what was soilaila's response to her grief? to try and assasinate her.

CENTURIES of taking care of them. CENTURIES of protecting them. and the one goddamn time she breaks down, they freakin villainize her???

holy shit--the jervees and jer'vazir were the only people who tried to console her and show her compassion.

AND THEN HILBERT ATTACKS HER.

no wonder she snapped. i would have a long time prior.

AND THAT'S ONLY THE PRE-TOV LORE. HER ENDING UPSETS ME VISCERALLY.

i can't even say the ending of tov makes me happy. every thing that i thought i wanted from the ending just made me feel viscerally upset, dejected, and hollow, because that's the point. by the time you get to the point where you get the "aha! this person is finally getting punished," i no longer wanted her to be punished. at least, not like that?

i don't know bro... von doro's breakdown in sai really hurts my feelings. i can't tell you why. i just feel so deeply for her.

“So you think you can spear lightning at the beast who survived the volcano for three hundred years? Is that it, daara? You think the storms of the heavens hold a flame to the rage of the underworld?”

“Oh? And I am so selfish? [...] Three hundred years, daara! You say these pompous words now, but wait until the years tick by and you find an Apa you are willing to slaughter the world for! Wait until that curse steals them away from you and tortures you with isolation and betrayal! Wait until the clock ticks centuries by and you are stuck within the same walls, quelling the same voices that drive you insane, reaching for the same happiness you were never entitled to, [REDACTED]! [...] This place destroys you, daara. It turns you vile, and lonely, and desperate to leave. But no… You are so much more noble than I, that of course you would have just gambled away your freedom and your chance to live and rest in peace if I had just asked you to. Like you were not seeking out death to escape pain only an hour ago. [...] Oh please, daara. Give me a break.”

is this... a sai excerpt?

yes.

you're welcome.

--

as for insight as the author? i'll say this:

von doro represents the cyclic nature of vengeance. the entire curse reflects it, but also her entire cycle of revenge with hilbert.

hilbert was acting in revenge -> he attacks the dragons -> the dragons death cause von doro's grief -> the explosions -> hilbert attacks von doro for the explosions -> he triggers the full extent of her wrath -> the incident -> half of soilaila dies + magic ban -> alan seeking vengeance

and it just keeps continuing. she is a tragedy, but worse than that, she is the generational cycle of suffering passed onto the next. misery who wants company.

thanks for the ask, wyked!

-- the holiday limited-edition tag list --

@wyked-ao3 @an-indecisive-nerd @drchenquill

@paeliae-occasionally @theink-stainedfolk @inseasofgreen

@thelovelymachinery @the-letterbox-archives @illarian-rambling

@bunnymermaidwrites @the-golden-comet @sm-writes-chaos

@leahnardo-da-veggie @corinneglass

[please tell me if you don't wanna be tagged i promise i will stop 🥺]

[gumnut-logic]

Well, this just sucked.

Alan fiddled with the restraints holding him to a bulkhead. Nope, not a thing he could do about it.

Other than him, the room, more a cargo hold than anything else, was empty except for an airlock door on the far side.

Why couldn’t he be kidnapped by an idiot? These ones had actually removed his baldric and his helmet, effectively cutting him off from Thunderbird Five.

Except for the tracker in his wrist, but they didn’t need to know about that.

The nerve, though. He was out here to help. He had thought he was saving a private space yacht that had engine trouble and was making a good attempt at colliding with a satellite or two.

But no, it had all been a trap. Probably to get a hold of his ‘bird.

Why couldn’t the bad guys make their own Thunderbirds and stop messing with theirs.

Oh, yeah, technology and all.

Then go invent your own technology, you assholes, and leave us alone.

Alan gave his restraints another tug and grunted as they bit through his uniform.

Of course, the astronaut in him was having a mild fit. He was stuck in an unknown craft of unknown safety specs with people who undoubtedly did not have his best health in mind, and he had no helmet.

He might as well be naked.

No, don’t give them ideas, you idiot.

Okay, focus. He had his training.

And he had his brothers.

While he had no wish to worry said brothers it was kind of reassuring to think exactly what those brothers might do to the persons responsible for this. If there was one thing he could say, it was that he was ever so proud of his family.

Scott would be pissed. That had both its positives and its negatives. There would likely be tactical scenarios in the future to prevent this from happening again. Scott was all about prepared and strategic readiness.

Couldn’t blame him really. The list of incidents in his brother’s resume was extensive. No doubt, Scott had learnt the hard way.

Now Virgil, Virgil was the softy. He smiled to himself. His tank of a brother was almost as much a worry wart as their eldest brother. He was less likely to get angry, but when he did, the whole house knew about it and avoided him. Only Scott and occasionally John would weather a Virgil snit, simply because it was terrifying. Add the list of equipment the engineer had at hand and buildings had the potential to be reduced to rubble. Nah, you didn’t want to piss off Virg.

But then there was John. No one, just no one dared rankle his middle brother. Alan snorted. John was the quiet one, and that fooled a lot of people. To their detriment. Gordon…it was always Gordon…had once taken a step too far and his music streaming still hadn’t recovered…six years after the incident. There was still whining. John just raised an eyebrow and smiled that gentle smile of his and flickered out.

Bit hard to chase a brother down who was literally thousands of miles away, yet had access to every personal detail, ever digital print, every part of your life.

Not that he didn’t trust John. No, he trusted him with his life, but hell, you did not want to piss him off.

The ship around him suddenly shook and Alan found himself thrown against the bulkhead. A grunt as his suit armour took the brunt, along with his shoulder guards.

These guys were really starting to piss Alan off, much less his brothers.

The ship stilled again and he was left wondering what the hell was going on. What did they want?

He pictured his next eldest brother beside him and the smart ass grin that came with the image. Gordon. Alan couldn’t help but smile. Gordon could be an ass, but he was an ass who was always on your side. The two of them had done so much…often to the ire of the above three brothers, but that just made it more fun.

Alan found himself grinning and he wondered if the assholes had a camera on him. Good luck to them if they did, because Gords was always going to make him smile.

His fish brother was amazing. Alan had seen him go through absolute hell, but his spirit was ever so strong. Alan admired Gordon. He was a role model.

That had him snickering. Scott’s frown at that thought was hilarious. 

But it wasn’t the pranks - though they were hilarious - it was Gordy’s view on life. His ability to keep smiling, stay in the positive, even when everything was absolute shit.

That was a thought for right now. Chained to a bulkhead in a strange ship, possibly abandoned, possibly kidnapped. What would Gords do?

A snort. Put jello in their knickers before kicking their asses out into space.

But Gords wasn’t a fan of space, was he? But his bro was brave and would kick ass anyway.

That was Gords.

Alan swallowed. Would Gords be as scared as he was at the moment?

Possibly.

But he would kick ass anyway.

Like Kayo.

Kayo.

You never pissed off Kayo and lived. Again it was Gordon who had tried exactly that. At the time, Alan had thought his brother was upset. That could be the only reason for tempting death.

He’d been partly right.

The dye in Kayo’s shower rose had prompted her focussed attention. She had cornered Gordon and the next thing Alan knew she had thrown his brother so hard around the spar mat he had bruises.

Which led to a Scott lecture of epic proportions. The smile on Gordon’s face had said so much more.

Alan still questioned his fish brother’s sanity.

And admired him for his bravery.

The whole ship shook around him and Alan startled.

The door on the far side of the bay stayed closed.

Scott, where are you?

And there was the truth of the matter. Scott had been his go to for so long, he was the default he yelled for when he needed help.

He would love to see him walk through that door.

Hell, he would love to see any and all of his brothers and his sister put a fist in these assholes’ faces and set him free.

Honestly, it wasn’t a matter of if, more of when. You don’t piss off a Tracy.

Any of them.

Because they would all kick your ass.

Even the littlest. 

Alan straightened where he floated. Yes, he would kick necessary ass anytime. He may be the littlest, but he was a damned astronaut, he knew stuff.

The restraints were still too damned tight.

The door on the other side of the room suddenly hissed and cracked open.

Alan spun and readied himself. He was not going down without a fight.

A familiar blue helmet peered through the door. “Alan?”

“Scott!”

And his big brother was there. A laser cutter and he was free and enveloped in a strong hug. “Hey, Allie.”

Before he knew it, he was being towed towards the door.

“How? Who?” He swallowed as Scott shoved the door wider and pushed him through. “What?”

But the answer was there before him.

Virgil was hovering in the space version of his exosuit, monitoring a forcefield over a massive hole in the side of the spacecraft’s cockpit.

Gordon and Kayo had three men hanging upside down from the ceiling wrapped in so many restraints, breathing appeared optional.

And John was muttering to Eos as he hovered over the controls of the craft. There was snarling.

Oh, dear.

“Here, we found these.” Scott’s hand hadn’t left his shoulder, but his other hand suddenly had Alan’s baldric and helmet hovering in front of him.

“I…”

There was a hum as a scanner was whisked over him from the direction of Virgil.

Scott’s eyes questioned the engineer, but he must have received the info he needed because a second later those eyes were once again trained on Alan.

As Alan took his baldric and snapped on his helmet, both of Scott’s hands landed on his shoulders. “You okay?”

There were so many eyes trained on him at the moment.

Alan straightened. “Yeah, I’m good.”

One of the bad guys whimpered and Gordon prodded him.

Blue eyes flickered but didn’t leave Alan. “Three is secured, though John is not happy.”

Another snarl issued from his red-haired brother.

Alan arched an eyebrow.

Those hands squeezed his shoulders. “Let’s get you home.”

Alan stared at his four brothers and his sister and smiled. 

“I’m driving.”

-o-o-o-

[jannahime]

Hello, can you do where Raian meets Zara aka (Zack Foster sister), and she is crazy just like him. Where Raian and his brothers heard commotion and screaming and saw a building and they saw blood and Raian was interested. When they went to the building, they saw 2 males screaming at the women with a scythe and she sliced them into halves and she was cackling crazy just like her brother. Raian was not only intrigued but was deeply in love with her and they both have a connection. They are both crazy and want to kill with bloodlust. After that she turned around saw Raian and her eyes went to neutral color and she waved at him innocently. Raian took her with him and they get to meet interact with each other. Around 6 months, she was nervous to her skin to Raian because she was also burned like her brother and she had bandages around her. Raian saw her and she jumped little bit and told him she was scared to show her skin. Raian told her (his style), “I don’t give a flying fuck what you look like underneath, all I care about is what is underneath with those crazy beautiful sexy eyes”. Zara tested up and kissed him and she showed him her true self. Raian carefully touch her and he kissed some scars and Zara reared up more and kissed him more.

Yes I can I am very sorry for taking so long in answering your ask! 🙏😞

Psycho Love

Raian Kure x GN Reader, Raian Kure

|fluff|Blood|limbs chopped|a little bit of 18+|

Word count: 1,638

It was already 3 am and Raian and Reiichi and Hollis were out on a mission that required three men. But Raian thought otherwise and he was very annoyed at the fact that he was being babysitted by these two.

He wanted to be on his own, and he craved carnage and a good ol massacre. “Why are the two of you here with me on this mission? What the fuck was the old man thinking sending you and Reiichi with me on this mission!? I can fucking handle it!” Growled Raian with annoyance.

“Look Raian….grandfather Erioh said you needed backup and we're doing just that. After what you did to Alan….Edward Wu himself will try to kill you or he'll send someone to come kill you…. we're just here to cover you while you fight the big boss.” Replied Hollis with an indifferent expression.

Raian just snarled and continued to walk away fast to the point where he was now jumping from rooftop to rooftop. Suddenly his ears caught a blood curdling scream and a sinister grin appeared on his face.

He soon glided from rooftop to rooftop towards the scream. He now heard psychotic laughter and it began to get him quite curious and excited at the same time, wondering who is unleashing carnage at the moment and why.

When he arrived at the scene, he saw two grown men from Edward Wu’s clan shaking in fear from a small, curvy, and feisty looking wild cat with a huge scythe that was covered and dripping with blood. She laughed like the maniac she is as she threatened the two men with her scythe.

“Look at you two grown men trembling with fear now! Look at the one on the left pissed his pants! Hahahahaha 🤣!!!” Her maniac laugh echoed in the air.

Raian’s sinister grin grew wider and wider as the woman swung her scythe and chopped the two men up like chopped liver leaving nothing but bits and chunks swimming in a puddle of blood.

“Wooh! How fun!” She giggled like a schoolgirl who just got a date.

When she turns around she stops in her tracks and she sees Raian Kure towering over looking down at her with a smug grin and a smooth look that says “woah mama.”

“Who the fuck are you?” She asked with such a diva attitude, popping one hip out and leaning on it with her one hand resting on her hip and the other carrying her scythe over her shoulder.

“Raian Kure at your service doll. And you are?” Raian spoke smoothly to her being a flirtatious thug.

“....It's Zara…..Zara Foster. So…..what do you want….Raian Kure?” She replied dryly.

“Oh come on! lighten up kitten.” Purrs Raian as he plays with a few strands of her long messy hair.

“Back off creep….don't touch me!” Spat Zara at Raian as she threatened him with her scythe to his throat. He only raised an eyebrow as he continues to sincerely grin at her not being bothered by the fact that he was being threatened by a weapon to his throat.

“Look doll face-”

“It's Zara!” She hissed threateningly at him.

“Whatever. My point is…..it seems that you and I share a common interest.” Spoke Raian with a small chuckle.

“Is that so?..and what might that be?” Spoke Zara sarcastically as she rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“Our arousal for bloodlust.” replied Raian with a cheeky grin.

“Is that right ……” She spoke uninterested. But soon more of Edward Wu’s clan surrounded the two of them. The two began to smile and cackle in a maniac way.

Raian attacked from the left side while Zara took the right side unleashing her mighty strength and chopping off limbs and heads from the right bodies dropping to the ground one by one.

Hollis and Reiichi looked on with bewildered looks as they saw Raian and Zara dance in joy in a cesspool of the Wu clan's blood. Zara’s eyes were glowing red with bloodlust and Raian twirled her around up in the air picking her up from the waist twirling her up in the air.

Soon her eyes went back to normal and she waved and blushed at him shyly. Months go by as the two begin to date. Fusui couldn't believe her older brother found someone who actually clicked with him and was just as crazy as him.

The fact that he was asking her for advice on a gift and what to wear on a fancy date. “oh my god……did I die and go to heaven or hell…..who are yih and what have you done with my brother. Where the fuck is my crazy bastard brother that I know?” Fusui replied, still shocked.

“Shut up! Hurry up and tell me what the fuck do women like so I can fucking get a present for my girl! And is this outfit good enough or do I need to get fancier clothing?” He replied dryly.

“.....just get her some red roses…or black roses…..and what you're wearing is fine if you're going to take her to Cheddar's. That outfit is fine.” Fusui replied, still shocked.

“Um…” uttered Fusui.

“What?” Replied Raian with a snarl.

“Are you going to introduce her to us one of these days?” Fusui asked, a little anxious.

“Fuck no! Why the fuck would do that! Plus I don't want to fucking look desperate into marrying her….at least not yet.” Growled Raian in annoyance as he fixed his tie.

Raian didn't come back last night, in fact he didn't come back home for a few months. Fusui and everyone else got worried. no matter who texted Raian he wouldn't pick up nor reply to the messages and calls, he would sometimes read the messages but he would leave them on read.

Everyone worried that the Wu clans got to him out a few weeks later he showed up with scratch marks, bite, marks, hickeys, and a bitten and a semi swollen bottom lip a little bit of red lipstick smudged on his lips

“Where have you been…..did you seriously get devoured by-”

“Yeah and what of it grandpa ... .oh we and by the way you're going to be a grandpa AND I'm going to be a dad…. you're welcome!” He walks away humming to himself in a happy mood.

Erioh almost had a heart attack as he clutched his chest uncertain how to feel. Fusui fainted and everyone else was still shocked.

Months prior:

Zara was a little nervous. Raian was coming to sleepover. He didn't ask permission, he literally texted her telling her that he was coming over and that he wasn't going to wait on an answer.

Zara was blushing and a nervous wreck. She knew that tonight might be the night as to where it would be an intimate passionate night between her and Raian.

She was self-conscious of herself. She was full of burn marks from head to toe. And she felt like he would be disgusted if he saw her skin.

He kicks the door down without knocking. “Hey I'm here.” Replied Raian nonchalant.

“I have a door knob and a doorbell you know.” Zara replied with a sigh.

“Yeah I know.” Replied Raian nonchalantly.

He pins Zara to the wall and kisses her through her bandaids. Zara moans softly but she tries to push him away but he doesn't let go.

“R-Raian…..ah …..wait……mmm……” she whispers softly into his mouth.

Raian began to tear open her bandages. But Zara pushes him away, roughly jumping a little. “No Raian! I just don't feel comfortable in my own skin! I-”

“I don't give a flying fuck what you look like underneath, all I care about is what is underneath those crazy, beautiful, sexy, eyes of yours.” Replied Raian in a hoarse tone of voice.

Zara gasps softly and she kisses him back just as fiercely. Raian manages to tear off all of her bandages and then he kisses every scar on her body from head to toe.

She helps um undress while he rips off her clothes. He kisses her neck and jawline nuzzling her ear with his lips whispering dirty things in her ear.

Zara chuckles softly as she tilts her head back giving him freedom to kiss her neck and jawline. He soon cups her chin and he devours her mouth, their tongues tangile with each other.

He soon lifts her up in his arms and begins thrust into her roughly. Zara mewls quietly as she continues to kiss him and wrap her arms and legs around him tightly.

Raian had more missions to do but it was the first time he ever ignored them and spent his time with Zara for many months.

Until Zara got morning sickness one day. She took a test and she found out she got pregnant.

Back to present day:

When Fusui woke up she looked around. “I swear…..did I just hear that psycho older brother…..is going to be a father?” She said still shocked.

“That he is….oh my…..I hope the baby grows up to be powerful as him but not as deranged as him.” Spoke Erioh in a sigh.

Months later Zara gave birth to a son and she named him Zack after her older brother. Zack had his mother's black hair and Raian's demon eyes. The many prayings of Erioh were heard as he wished for Raian’s son to be different and Zack’s IQ was high. The boy was very smart and spoke at a very young age when he's supposed to be talking gibberish.

The boy grew up to be one of the most powerful lethal weapons in the Kure Family just like his father Raian Kure.

The end…….

[hi-imlilac]

Five nights at the mansion (fnaf inspired)

Warning: if you dislike or are uncomfortable with fnaf related stuff, wouldn't suggest continuing from this point. Might get unsettling along the way

Welcome to the mansion!

After receiving an invitation to have a one week stay at a mansion, you decided to give it a try and go for it. You were greeted by a few of the residents before heading to your room to settle in. The time is now 18:30. You feel something unsettling. There's a computer in your room, along with a tape recorder right next to it. One of the residents said your room was the only one in the mansion with access to the cameras, also adding something around the lines of "you're gonna need it." Originally, you had no intentions of using it, but now something within you is screaming at you to do it.

You make your way to the desk and turn it on. Instant regret. You can see blue eyes- or- one blue eye gazing at the camera. The figure itself is motionless. You try remembering who it was. You look at the tape recorder and just as your gut feeling told you to check the cameras, it told you to play it. You hit the play button and hear a feminine voice on the other end.

Hello? For Alan's sake- how do you operate this thing?! I should've just asked Solum to- oh wait is it on? The red light is blinking so maybe... I'll just assume it is.

Hello dear guest! This is Armia ( @armiaochima ) You're probably listening to this because you feel... unsafe, yes? Well, it'sa good thing you are listening to it. Hopefully it's not too late by the time you do.

Listen, this mansion is dangerous. More specifically, four of it's residents. The invitation was a trick to lure you in, and unfortunately it seems to have worked. I promise it's nothing personal, they were just getting restless and needed someone- ANYONE to help satisfy their needs.

Fortunately for you, I'm here to assist you in your survival. It's the least i can do for allowing them to trick you. Follow my instructions and you should make it through the night. They start the hunt at 19:00 and will stop at 06:00

First up is Killer.

Amongst the four dangerous residents, killer is the only girl. And like all girls, she likes her privacy. She will remain in the living room area for the night, pacing around. Her footsteps will be an indicator of this. If her footsteps stop,check the living room camera. She should be standing still for a few moments.

After some time she'll look at the camera. Turn it off as quick as possible and wait 15 seconds. Her footsteps should be heard once again in the same rhythm and area as before. Don't look at her for too long, otherwise she'll get angry.

You'll know you've looked for too long if her footsteps speed up and get louder. This means she's coming to the room. Hide under the desk and wait for her to enter. Once she's in, she'll look for a brief moment before leaving and returning to the living room.

This is all the help I can give you for tonight. If you're still alive by tomorrow, another friend will place a new tape. Good luck.

You were frozen in shock as the tape finished. Dangerous residents? The hunt? Killer? It was a lot to take in at once and you were still processing it. Your attention goes to the clock. 18:45. You have 15 minutes left. You wonder if leaving is still optional, but you feel as though the figure in the camera wouldn't take lightly to such. Fortunately, they stopped staring at the camera. You turn it off. Alright then... if you'll have to do this, might as well prepare yourself. 15 minutes flies by. It's time.

After several close calls, the clock finally strikes 06:00. You see her return to her room. Thank Becker. You were so drowsy and nearly slipped up a couple of times, even making the mistake of dozing off while looking at her. Boy, you've never felt so scared to have someone else come to your room, especially a pissed off girl. You were so tired you fell asleep throughout the most of the day.

You woke up at around 16:25. Enough time to go greet everyone and get something to eat. SurprisingSurprisingly enough, lilac looked a bit annoyed and displeased to see you. Perhaps she remembers what she attempted last night and was mad you survived? Whatever. You were about to leave but a storm rolled in. It was too heavy to risk it and you were practically blinded by the lightening. Another night, you guess. Another night and then you'll leave.

You return to the room to find a new tape. It's 18:25, so you got a good amount of time to prepare. You play the tape, your eyebrows raising when you here a new voice. This one is male.

Hey buddy. Glad you survived night one of your nightmare. You pissed off killer real good! Anyways, this is Duck ( @louistheduck ) and you're stuck with me for your guide. Aren't you just blessed, huh?

Anyways, tonight you'll be dealing with TG. By the way, I'm referring to Tea Green. @alexartink

They're a plush sized grinch who likes blowing up stuff. He's not a problem if you're not a problem, so pay attention.

TG spends his time in the garden. If you hear an explosion, look out the window. Is he still there? If so, be at ease. He's just playing around. If he's not, look through the cameras until you see him. Do this quickly, he's not gonna wait for you.

once you find him he should stop moving. He'll stay still for a bit before leaving to go back to the garden. For TG, getting caught ruins the fun. However, if you hear his footsteps near, hide under the desk. You took too long to find him and he's arrived at your room. He's not as patient as killer and will probably leave as soon as he sees you're not there.

That's all for tonight. Don't let the bed bugs bite. See ya.... if ya survive that is, haha.

Something about how nonchalant he was about the possibility of not making through the night sent shivers down your spine. Like he didn't care if you survived or not. The thought leaves you feeling somewhat insignificant, but you brush it off. Time to focus.

06:00, at last! TG was a force to be reckoned with, and killer still being there made it no easier. But you made it. And you fell asleep again the next day. Not surprising. TAO seems a bit tired herself. So does Lilac. I guess they technically didn't sleep, since they were too busy hunting me down. It's still raining hard. Strange that TG stayed out there even in this weather. You know by now what happens. You go to your room, the new tape is already there. You play it. Another voice, feminine, but not Armia.

Ok good,it's on. Hey buddy. I'm surprised to see you're still alive. Good job though. This is Solum ( @s0lie )and by now you get the idea. Tonight will be Red @mar-doce0

Red is not one to faf around with. He wants to catch you, and he wants to do it now. He does, however, demand your attention for the night's. It's strange but oh well.

There should be the sound of silverware or just metal downstairs in the kitchen. He's looking for something. Now, you don't have tp keep an eye on him like the other two. But you do need to listen for him a lot, especially if the sound of metal stops. His footsteps are heavier and louder than TG and Killer, don't mix them!

That desk is your best friend, because you'll be hiding under it when he enters. He's somewhat not patient with such, but he'll he'll willing to wait five seconds before leaving. Hopefully this is enough to help you. Fortunately he only comes around 3-4 times. See ya. Don't die.

Hm. That was actually both helpful yet terrifying. Red sounds scarier since I can't rely on visual aid with him, but as long as what solum said is true I should be fine. And so the night begins.

Finally... 06:00... last night was hectic. Solum never said he was fast! That muthfuqa nearly caught you twice! The routine stays the same as the past two nights, fall asleep during the day, wake up and exist, the three hunters from last night are either angry or tired, blah blah blah. It's still raining. By now you've accepted that you're not getting out of this that easily. Just play their games and you may live. By 18:00 you're in the room. New tape, new voice. Feminine again.

Woah... You survived three nights... congrats man. But they all grow restless and more infuriated. For this, you have my guidance. I'm Luna ( @thesecondlight-luna ) for the record

Tonight you'll be dealing with Black @thewhiteguy

Black is not easy to read. He's cold to some, nice to others. But to you, he's gonna be ruthless. Usually he spends his time writing in the garden, but the rain stops such. So he's in the library. Don't look through another camera unless it's to look for TG or watch killer.

Watch him at all times. If you need to change the camera, always go back to check. Is he still there? If not, hide. You can't depend on sound when it comes to him. Fortunately he's just as impatient as the others. He'll leave after 5 seconds as well.

I wish you the best of luck

Why were they just getting harder and harder?! I mean, yeah, I wasn't expecting us to hold hands and sing khumbaya, but I also wasn't expecting this!!! Ugh, whatever. Suck it up, we've got a long night ahead of us.

Aaaaaaand 06:00!!! FINALLY! Last night was absolute chaos! The amount of times i nearly got caught- DANG! I just wanna leave this place! It always the same routine even today! But hey, the rain is simmering down. Maybe I can leave by tomorrow morning. Once again it's a new tape.

Armia:you did it.... You survived till night five... as impressed as I am, I've never seen them this angry before Duck: I'm surprised you made it so far. They're all absolutely pissed too. It'd Ite funny, if I didn't have to deal with whatever the aftermath May be. Solum: you're interesting, y'know? Accepting the invitation here was a guarantee, but staying? Why would you wish to stay in a place like this? Cuz of some rain? Luna: this is probably the last time you hear us. I'm sorry you had to be the unfortunate victim in this. We can't save you. Not tonight.

Strange. No new hunter? They were all on the tape to... tonight will be difficult, but I've made it too far to quit now. I have to survive. I WILL survive!

06:00... it's finally 06:00.... but why haven't they moved?.... they're still there, frozen... what's going on?... am I ok now?... wait... wait wait wait- NO! They're all coming! Why are they all coming?! You hide under the desk. You see them all enter. A squeak escapes your mouth when they lift it up with ease. You're cornered.

"Finally, we meet dear."

"After so long of chasing you... we finally got you."

"You were persistent, I'll give you that."

"But in the end it was all inevitable, pointless even"

That was the last time you heard or saw anyone before they-

-System disconnected-

[neil-neil-orange-peel]

S2E1 of The New Statesman really has it all in terms of what you want from an episode of TNS:

*Opens on Alan being truly despicable on national television (plus declaring himself a shark)

*He threatens Piers with a drill

*Alan is so racist in this episode, but I think generally they do a good job of making him look the fool for that

*He corrupts Georgina like the devil on her shoulder (and don't get me started on the way he delivers "I think they must be right. Whenever I hear it I get all horny." SIR-)

*Rik doing his Yorkshire accent

*"Larry! What a very good idea!"

*The way Bob Crippen lists every disadvantaged demographic under the sun is really funny to me

*Alan's poll tax speech is legendary - I have used it before to introduce people to him

*Also on Alan's poll tax speech - he looks so delightfully ghoulish and his hair is so slick in that scene for some reason oof

*Funny little gag with the still of Alan winking at the audience from the TV

*Is this the first appearance of Alan's London residence? Possibly? Can't recall at the moment if it appears in S1

*Mr Whippyyyyyy

*"The country will be forced to choose between the royal family and the Conservative Party. Can't you think what a trauma that will be for the millions who don't know the difference!"

*God the way Georgina pulls Alan up as she's explaining how she beat him at his own game (everyone read this fic by @frankenbolt)

*More sadomasochism with Alan and Piers!

*"But you're a millionaire already! You don't need the money!" "Yes, but, you see, Piers, I want it! Because I'm very, very greedy, Piers! That is why I became a Conservative!"

*Alan using his piss poor sexual prowess as a hook to pull the Chief Whip in always makes me wonder if he is actually aware he's a shit lay (and probably just doesn't care)

*"Boy, have you made a big mistake!" He's evil EVIL I tell you

All in all this is a really great episode. It's a good contender for THE episode to show someone if you wanna introduce them to TNS. A solid ep to start a solid series. Only thing it's really missing is Sarah.

[wehangout]

7 for the prompts ask!

Send me a number prompt and I’ll make it smutty

7. holding their hand under a table

"And then we had to go back again because we got the Chadwick cherry tomatoes instead of the Sweet Million tomatoes!"

Ian laughs, and it sounds genuine, but all you can do is frown at Jill and Alan and wonder why the fuck Ian agreed to this bullshit dinner. Jill and Alan. Ugh. Fuckers have been judging you since you threw the chairs into the pool, which, sure, not you're best move, but mostly fuck them.

And fuck Ian for agreeing to this ... whatever the fuck this is. Double date? Casual get-together? No fucking clue. Definitely not a casual get-together, though. Ian made you wear your good jeans and fuck him for that, too.

You shift in your chair and try not to make it obvious. Ian likes this shit and you love Ian. It's that simple. If he wants to go to a nice restaurant with your shitty neighbours, then you go to a nice restaurant with your shitty neighbours.

But when Jill and Alan - seriously, fuck those guys - start talking about Jill's crazy cousin who spent a month in a nut house because she's a fucking psycho ...

Well, fuck those guys.

You literally feel every moment of your body tensing up. You get tight and your hands curl into fists. You want to hit Alan and yell at Jill, but Ian. Ian won't want you to make a scene. Ian doesn't want everyone to know his shit. Ian can fight his own fucking battles.

Slowly, trying to keep your rage from showing, you pull your hands beneath the table and let them curl into fists.

And Ian - fucking Ian - knows exactly what you're thinking and how you're feeling, and his hand follows, reaches beneath the table, grasps one of yours in his own.

Squeezes.

It's not a calm-the-fuck-down squeeze, or a don't-fuckin'-think-about-it squeeze, or even a let-it-fucking-go squeeze. It's an I-got-you-we're-fine-I-love-you squeeze.

It's reassurance and it's grounding.

You grip his hand right back, thankful that the subject quickly changes to some artsy fucking movie Jill and Alan want to see. Ian asks questions about it, his thumb stroking your knuckles the entire time, and it's good. It helps. Ian helps.

You give his fingers one last touch and go back to your food. Everyone else is almost done because you've been too pissed off to eat the shitty portions of shitty food, but you need to catch up. You need to pretend everything's okay.

Kinda hard when Ian's hand stays beneath the table, when it flattens against your thigh, when his long fingers stroke along the inner seam of your jeans.

You look at him, eyebrows raised, and the smile he gives you in return is totally calm, shows nothing but love, and considering the way he moves his big hand to cover your crotch as he does it, it's a fucking contrast.

You turn back to your food, hands gripping your utensils a little too tight, and, for once in this stupid double date bullshit, try to pay attention to the conversation. You listen to the words and take in the subject matter, nodding along at appropriate times, because if you don't you'll focus solely on the way Ian's hand slowly massages at your hardening dick and that would just be - be ...

"Shit," you mutter.

Everyone stops talking and looks at you - Jill with mild disgust, Alan in confusion, and Ian in concern - even as his hand keeps moving behind the tablecloth.

"Everything okay, Mick?"

You swallow and nod. "Yeah, just thought I forgot to do something."

Conversation continues and Ian doesn't stop. He doesn't stop and he doesn't stop, and he continues to just not stop until you grab his wrist and force him to because you're close to coming in your pants like when you were teenagers and would rub up against each other because that's all you had time for. Only then does Ian stop. He lets you breathe. He waits until you've had a sip of your beer and then moves in again.

You glare at him. He ignores you. He moves his hand up and down your hard cock, using his nail to trace the tip through the denim of your jeans, and it's good, it's so fucking good that whatever the fuck yoga bullshit Jill's talking about doesn't matter. It just doesn't matter. Because Ian's rubbing you through your jeans and it just doesn't matter.

But then you stop him again. You have to. Fuck. You're literally panting at the table - quietly, but panting nonetheless. And they just keep talking. Even Ian, his voice calm and smooth, and that - the contrast of everything he's doing above the table and the filthy shit he's doing to you below the table is too much and not enough.

He moves back again and you look at him, face slack, eyes wide, because he can't be, he can't -

Fuck.

You still have to get through dessert.

He meets your gaze, and even though his smile is still soft and warm, his eyes ...

You know that look. Jill and Alan won't have a fucking clue, but you recognise the heat and want and command in them.

He is. He's going to keep going. He's going to take you to the brink again and again, right at the table, knowing the risks, knowing you could possibly make a fucking fool of yourself at the shitty dinner table at the shitty restaurant in front of your shitty neighbours, but also knowing that it won't happen because he won't let it. He won't let you come until he's good and ready and you - shit - you won't come until he lets you.

You pick up your beer with shaking hands and down it in one.

It's gonna be a hell of a fucking night.

[becauseimanicequeen]

Rewatching Pit Babe (ep. 6-7) and the Colors

This is part of my Crazy-Ass End-of-Year Rewatch Challenge where I will rewatch some of my favorite shows, my least-favorite shows, and some shows in between.

I can't promise cohesive thoughts in these posts because it's the end of the year, I'm currently living in right-brain land 10+ hours per day, and I'm TIRED because the darkness of winter is coming. You've been warned.

My previous post: episodes 1-2, episode 3, episodes 4-5.

Also, since this is a rewatch, there are spoilers ahead.

Episode 6

We start this episode where we left off in the previous one, which means that Charlie still has that red detail on his racing overalls:

We've seen it before. But we've also seen him being loyal to Babe.

But, this bitch, though, with that red seat and line of the steering wheel:

He's switching sides faster than he can drive.

And when Dean chooses to accuse Alan of not valuing him after choosing Charlie to replace Babe in the team, Alan gets the most angry we've seen him so far:

This is the first time I've seen red on this man, but it's justified. Dean is being a spoiled brat and it will drive him to make idiot decisions.

Btw, is that red I see on Way's lighter?

The red on him is sneaky, but it is there.

Also, look at these moody brooders in black:

I wonder what a situationship or romantic relationship between these two would have been like. No, let's not go there.

Let's move on to Jeff instead. Here he is at the café and my hyper brain is wondering what the fuck to focus on:

The red title on the book/magazine and the red on his bag tattling about his past? The blue clothes that say something about his current loyalty? The yellow-ish/orange-ish cake that seems to follow him around (the color, not the cake, lol)? The pink drink and the pink light outside? And does that equal Alan's feelings in his attempt to get Jeff back with his Love Actually flashcard apology?

Anyway, they should just stop being idiots and hook up already! (I know they won't for a while longer, but can't a girl dream that the rewatch will be different? LOL!)

Also, I will defend Charlie until the end. I did it over on Twitter when the show was airing (before I had this tumblr) and I will do it now. But I have to admit that it's kind of annoying seeing that red follow him around!

Because all I see is Mr. Red's presence, and I don't like him.

And even though there's red in purple, look at that pretty purple-ish sky:

These boys are in love. Even Charlie, who is being secretive, came to X-Hunter to protect Babe because he thought that was the right thing to do. Isn't that a trait of a blue character through and through, though? Noble tendencies.

Either way, I love how the red and blue light appears in the frame when they're at Babe's special place and he asks Charlie to be his boyfriend.

And the way I fucking cackle every time Charlie brings up the whole children and Papa/Mama conversation.

(I needed a good laugh, so I watched that scene three times, lol.)

But, Sonic (even though he has some blue on the shirt under his jacket), what is up with the yellow?

No wonder Dean gets pissed.

The colors are all over the fucking place with these two!

And I'm saying this as a visual artist who reinvents myself ALL. THE. FUCKING. TIME. It's a pain for my loved ones, and I feel sorry for them. So, this is my official apology to all the Deans in my life. I understand your pain. (But the only thing I won't change is how much I change.)

Anyway, moving on...

Babe comes out of the bar/diner with the blue light behind him.

And meets Jeff who has both the red on his bag and shirt mixed with the blue. After Babe apologizes for the behavior he displayed before he knew Charlie and Jeff were brothers, Jeff uses his power on Babe and freaks out.

His and Charlie's plan is about to take a sharp turn.

And, so is Babe and Charlie's relationship (very soon, at least) since the red is the big secret between them that will get exposed.

Unfortunately for Way, he's going to see exactly how upset Babe will get when Babe finds out about Charlie's red past.

It won't matter that he's crying in the blue...

Because Way has had a red past all along...

Babe will feel more betrayed by Way keeping his red past from him than he ever was for Charlie doing the same thing...

And, that's the end of the 6th episode. Let's move on to the next!

Episode 7

On the subject of Way and the red. I can't believe Babe accepted Way's red-flag tendencies...

Good friends don't make you feel that way, Babe.

Instead of crying in the blue at the end of the previous episode, Way is better off focusing on the man who doesn't care about his red past.

Mainly because Pete knows exactly who Way is and accepts him for who he is (red past and all). And because Pete has a red past of his own.

Even though he could hide that red strap of his watch under his blue jacket. What a sneaky (but pretty) man he is.

Anyway, let's move on to the truth about Charlie's past coming out. You know what I love about this, though? Charlie is sitting there in blue.

He's being loyal to Babe and X-Hunter right in front of Tony, who is finally drinking something red again (that greedy green was getting boring, lol).

And even though Babe is livid, which he has every right to be...

Charlie is loyal to Babe. He fucking showed up in front of his psycho adoptive father and flashed his loyalty left right and center.

He's even confronted in a blue room. But Babe is too angry to see the loyalty (understandable). Instead, he runs to Way who is keeping his own secrets about his affiliations with Tony.

But Charlie is persistent enough to seek Babe out and tell him the truth. And luckily for Charlie, Babe chooses to see Charlie's loyalty to him rather than the past connection with Tony.

Too bad for Way, though, who thought he and Babe were having dinner that night to celebrate that Babe was single again. But, showing up with a bouquet of red flowers tied together with a red ribbon...

I'm sorry, honey, but I can't see that as a gesture of love (usually associated with red). All I see are secrets, Tony, and Red Racing.

Bad choice of color, Way.

So, excuse Babe for standing you up.

He's busy riding Papa with that purple light shining in the background.

Babe is gone and won't go back. His purple phone says so.

But Sonic... What's with that fucking red?!

He is giving me a migraine!

That's the end of this episode, and my image limit. So, let's move on to another post!

[omi-papus]

Light The Lamp

Part: 2

Fandom: Subnautica

Pairing: Robin x Al-An

Ao3 link

Content: Age difference, ADHD x Autism, Ableist slur, Ice Hockey AU, Modern era AU, Human Al-An AU, Drug use, Eventual smut

Summary: Rookie ice hockey player Robin Ayou stuns the league with a controversial but impressive debut, catching the eye of popular YouTuber Alan Silvester. Known for his hockey insights. After an awkward first encounter, he begs her to feature in one of his videos. And she after thinking shes found her new babygirl cant help but agree.

Word count: 8.9k

A/N: Hey guys. I managed to get this out at a decent pace I think, this fic is a lot easier to write than some of my other projects so I can balance it with Uni a lot better. Here we have more of the idiots being themselves.

She completed the interview. Robin stood firm even when faced with questions like, “How do you plan to avoid being a hindrance to your team?” No matter what, she wasn't going to cave and walk out.

Now she's wondering if that would have been the less humiliating option.

The second they finished recording, she stormed out, not saying a single word to either of the men in the room, and went straight to the gym. She doesn't know how long she stayed there, but all she could think about was what a waste of time this had all been. The dinner, the recording, the time she had spent planning her answers and all she could say to make the interview good, the time she wasted on him. Because she thought none of it amounted to anything. That the interview footage was unusable and no one in their right mind would have thought it was good enough to be released. That it would all be deleted, and they would pretend they never met. Oh boy, how wrong she was.

“AND WHEN DID I TELL YOU YOU COULD FUCKING DO THAT?!” Coach Maida yelled at the entrance of the arena, not minding for a second who else was there to hear her. Robin knew exactly what she meant the second she started yelling because she had seen it too. She forgot to unsubscribe from that godforsaken channel and saw the thumbnail that very morning. It had her nearly foaming at the mouth, and boy had she considered running up to that office and chewing him out. But she had training that day and did not want that fucker taking up any more of her time and brainpower than he already did. And lo and behold, her coach had caught wind of everything and was currently in the process of tearing her a new one.

“ARE YOU AN ACTUAL TODDLER?!”

“I wasn't expecting him to just insult me like that!”

“Oh no, he had every right to insult your piss poor playing. What you should have done was NOT throw a tantrum on camera!”

“I had to defend myself! I couldn't just sit there and take it and embarrass the team!”

“YOU EMBARRASSED THE TEAM WHEN YOU BROKE YOUR FACE ON LIVE TELEVISION!”

Robin couldn't respond to that and just gritted her teeth, holding onto her stick with enough strength to possibly break it.

“I should have kicked you out when I could…” the woman grumbled. Robin would have been scared if she hadn't made that exact threat multiple times and never followed through. She looked down at the floor. At that point, Coach Maida had stopped talking as well and just stared at her, waiting for a response. It took a minute for Robin to simmer down, to hold back from screaming and crying about what had happened in that interview and why it wasn’t her fault. She had to think about something else.

Her next words were soft, almost achingly resigned, but her eyes had that one last spark of confrontation as she locked eyes with her coach.

“Sam won’t be mad if you do. You know that, right?”

Marguerite’s expression did not change, but she didn’t answer. A cold breeze came in through the open door of the building, and the sounds of the other players whispering among themselves cut through the tension like glass. A grunt could be heard from the coach before Robin winced as she received a quick hit to the back of the head. When she opened her eyes again, she saw the coach walking away from her and into the rink.

“What are all of you staring at?! Get ready and get on the ice in five minutes! You’re doing triple laps today! You can thank Ayou for that!”

Robin could barely process the sounds of her team heckling her as she felt a certain weight in her chest grow heavier

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She was the last to leave the locker room, still in her underwear, going through her phone. She had meant to unsubscribe from the YouTube channel but quickly found herself unable to look away from the comment section of the newest video.

"Like all women. Basically children." "She should not be playing if she’s this sensitive." "She just mad nobody wants to fuck a masculine thing like her." "Bro thinks she’s good."

It went on and on. She was trying her hardest not to look at Twitter. She could only imagine what the rhetoric would be there. It made her blood boil.

The Alterra Giants had requested a rematch. It would be in only a few days. She would fucking show them. Every single one of them how great of a player Robin Ayou was.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The puck slid out of her reach far too quickly for her to attempt to redirect it. Then, pathetically slowly, it moved away from her before she was pushed to the side and had to refocus her energy on regaining her balance. She stopped herself from moving too far away, getting back into hot pursuit as quickly as possible. She could feel her pulse in her ears. Her trajectory had changed to herding the action back to the left of the rink. The opposing winger was cutting across center ice, trying to get a clean entry into the zone, but Robin was determined to force her wide, to keep her from getting any closer to the middle of the rink. With a burst of speed, she closed the gap, angling her body to cut off the winger’s path. The opposing player saw her coming and tried to make a quick move to the outside, but Robin was ready. She threw her weight into the check, sending the winger off balance. The puck popped loose.

The game was tight, the score tied 3-3, and her team was down to their last minutes in the final period. Every pass, every shot, every hit mattered. The Alterra Giants seemed to have fixed themselves overnight, always having at least two players specifically countering her.

She had to feel flattered.

The center was in position near the slot. Robin’s eyes flicked to her. This was it. She sent the puck screaming across the ice, a laser pass threading between two defenders. Her teammate caught it cleanly and wound up for a one-timer. Robin held her breath. The faceoff was in the offensive zone now. Robin skated into position. She locked eyes with their captain, who was lining up for the draw. They had a plan, the captain would tie up the opposing center, and Robin would swoop in to pick up the loose puck. If everything worked perfectly, they’d get another shot and a goal.

The puck dropped. The captain did her job, tying up her opponent’s stick. Robin surged forward, her stick darting out to grab the puck. She had it. She snapped a quick shot at the net, low and hard, hoping for a rebound. The goalie blocked it, but the puck bounced out into the slot. Bodies crashed together as everyone scrambled for the loose puck.

The opposing winger, a speedster with a nose for breakaways, found the puck and chipped it past the defense. Robin’s heart sank as she watched her own defensewoman hesitate for a split second. just enough time for the winger to take off. Robin turned and sprinted, legs pumping furiously as she tried to catch up. But it was too late. The winger was already across the blue line, alone on a breakaway. Robin could only watch as the forward closed in on their goalie, faked a shot, and then lifted the puck top shelf. The red light flashed.

She didn’t truly remember what happened after that. “4-3” was her last coherent thought.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“This is hideous, dear, you really ought to change the way you arrange these.” The woman began taking out plates and placing them loosely on the table. Alan stood at the edge of the kitchen, staring firmly at the ground, knowing that if he dared to look up, his brain would shut down. His entire kitchen was in disarray, every plate, cup, fork, and spoon placed out onto the counters and table, many at risk of falling off the edge.

“I’ve taught you how to organize a million times. You are a grown man. You don’t have excuses to be this messy. The cups should go in the top drawer, not the bottom right one, and the pans need to go closer to the stove.” His mother opened one of the bottom drawers and began pulling out the one pot and pan, and with no more space left on the counter, she put them on the floor. “I want this all reorganized by the end of the day, Alan. I am not letting you live like this.” She finally looked back at him as she pointed to the mess around her, and she was fuming when she noticed him looking at the ground.

She let out a deep sigh and massaged her temple. “You’re lucky I’m so patient. I don’t even want to look at your room. I can’t imagine that it’s organized either.”

“It is organized.”

“Don’t talk to me like that! I’ll go see for myself. You stay here and fix this mess.”

She walked past him, and he shuddered. He finally had to look at what she had done, and when he did, he felt his entire head heat up with stress. He held back from putting everything back where it went, knowing that it would not please his mother. He tried to remember what she had told him. The only "right" way to organize, and began rearranging as much as he could according to her rules. He tried to think of his childhood kitchen and how that was organized. Normally, it would be easy to replicate, but the layout of the kitchen was different from his current home, and he wasn’t sure how to make it equivalent in the "right" way that wouldn’t get him another angered lecture and his kitchen torn apart again. Distantly, he could hear the sound of cloth being thrown from down the hall. No doubt his mother had already begun dismantling his closet. He had moved all his hockey paraphernalia to his office for this exact reason.

Because it wasn’t the first time she had done this. Show up unannounced and invite herself in. Sometimes she was only judgmental of his lack of decor and the general subpar aesthetics of his one-bedroom apartment, commenting on his habits, like how long it took him to shower on the days she arrived before he had to head out, and where he placed his coat when she came at the end of the day. But sometimes she did this. Dug through every drawer and crevice in the house, found something she disliked, and then took out everything and told him to put it all back the "right" way.

It wasn’t that Alan was disorganized. He loved keeping his spaces tidy, clean, and in perfect order. He had created multiple systems of how things should be stacked, folded, and stored and hated when anything was out of its assigned spot. Unfortunately, his mother was never a fan of his ways of doing things and insisted that everything should be done based on how her household, when she was a child, used to run.

This had been a battle they had fought for as long as he could remember. It was an immovable object meets unstoppable force scenario, two equally obsessive people steeped in their own ways and unable to accept anything else. Alan would arrange everything to his mother’s liking, wait for her to leave, which might take multiple hours, and then put it all back, until she showed up again. It was a cycle that periodically would steal up to an entire day from him. Sometimes, he’d have to call off work to Ryley because he had to either entertain his mother or reorganize everything again.

Alan used to think he would be free to have his house the way he liked when he had his own, but his mother’s incessant visits never let him know peace. In half an hour, the kitchen was mostly presentable. He could only hope she wouldn’t undo his work twice. He didn’t have to guessshe had already told him she was angry with him, for missing her call all those weeks ago and for making a scene at that restaurant. He knew from experience that her anger would last at least another month at this rate. And he guessed that Robin’s anger would last forever.

He was smart enough to tell that she was furious. The way she conducted herself in the interview was proof enough. And the way she had left, so quickly and violently, was unnerving. Ryley had suggested, nearly begged, that he not post the video. He didn’t know why Ryley was so adamant, as Ryley had always been pretty detached from anything Alan did outside of what directly affected him. Unfortunately, Alan had promised his viewers an interview with Robin Ayou, and he couldn’t back down from that. But it really was a disaster. She refused to answer multiple questions, and the ones she did, she fought him at every step. She was obviously very upset with what he was asking her.

He had told her to notify him if she had a problem. Why didn’t she? He had given her every question. None of this should have happened like this. At least not on camera. She was clearly surprised by the questions, and it was apparent she hadn’t read the list he gave her, and that made him more upset than anything else. That he had planned everything out perfectly and it was all sabotaged because she just felt like it. Like his way of doing things was stupid and didn’t deserve consideration. Just like his mother was doing now.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by a loud thud followed by what sounded like a crack. Quickly, he put down whatever he was holding and scurried over to his room, where he could see three things.

His mother stood in the corner of the room, looking visibly shaken his bed was filled with now unfolded clothes, thrown half-heartedly around, and his headset was on the floor, the shell on the left speaker broken and detached from the headband, the cushion having detached as well.

“Sweetie, I’m so sorry! They just fell out of the closet, I didn’t know they were there! Oh my God, I broke them! I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m a terrible mother who breaks my son’s things! I’m so, so sorry, Alan.”

His feelings toward the broken headset were quickly derailed by his need to calm his mom down.

“It’s alright. It was an accident. Go sit down. I can get another one.”

“I didn’t mean to do it, I’m sorry!”

“I know, Mother. Don’t worry. It’s fine.”

This went on for a solid twenty minutes. And it was only after two hours that she finally left, and he was faced with the fact that he had to replace the now broken headset.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Robin stood still against the bathroom wall, fighting the burning sting of tears yet again. Every time she thought her anger had subsided, it bubbled up again like magma, and she could do nothing but grit her teeth and hold back from punching a wall.

She had told herself she would not look at social media after their loss, but, like with seemingly everything in her life, she failed. Twitter was swarming with comments about not only her team but her specifically. The connections made between her performance and the interview were plentiful. She remembered the scolding Coach Maida had given her, and even that didn’t feel close to the sheer anger she had felt in her bones when she saw that scoreboard.

She pressed her forehead against the stall wall, fists tight and jaw clenched. She was only a month into her professional career, and all of this was happening. She couldn’t help it. The gut punch of regret, coupled with an all-too-familiar helplessness, made the tears threaten to fall again. She had to mentally recite a mantra to herself, reminding herself why she was doing this, why she chose this path.

You're good at this. You're good at this. You. Are. Good. At. This.

She wiped her eyes and blew her nose quickly when she heard a knock at the stall door. She had been in there for a good ten minutes, moping. Hastily stepping out, she made her way to the sinks and splashed water on her face. Looking at herself in the mirror for a moment, she wished she were home right now. The only reason she hadn’t hotboxed her room and smoked herself stupid was that she was completely out of groceries and had nothing to eat for either dinner or tomorrow’s breakfast. She was starting to regret not ordering takeout, but her budget was getting stretched thin, and she knew this was the healthier option. The closest grocery store was attached to the main mall in the area, so that's where she was. Stores would be closing soon, so she had to hurry.

It was because she was speed-walking that she only half-registered a white blur move past her. Her instinct, however, was strong enough to tell her to stop and turn around, knowing that properly identifying it would be important.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alan should have, by all means, waited until at least tomorrow to purchase another headset. Or better yet, he should have ordered it online and waited. He had most of the month's videos already recorded and could have honestly just recorded everything on camera with the whiteboard instead. But he hated waiting, and he also just needed to get this situation out of his head before it made his brain explode with rage. Needless to say, he was furious, because of everything. The broken headset had just been the final push between his mother's visit and the recent interview fiasco. He felt like he would lose it if he didn’t fix the one thing he could control in this situation.

He never liked malls very much, few things interested him, bright lights and loud sounds abounded. It wasn't unbearable, but he certainly wasn't fond of it. He was walking around, searching for an electronics store that looked like it sold more than cheap chargers and phone cases, in hopes of getting a half-decent headset to serve as a placeholder while he waited to get another identical to the one he already had. He knew that wasn't the wisest financial decision, but he simply did not care at this point. He walked along with his head facing the ground, just thinking about how much better it would be once all of this was behind him. That was until a very loud noise pierced his ears, and he turned around to recognize a person stomping toward him.

“YOU!”

She had quickly pinned him to the wall, pointing at his face, her finger dangerously close to his chin.

“You motherfucker!”

He was never great at identifying facial expressions, which only made the vibrant anger in her eyes even more noticeable. It took him a whole five seconds of staring before he processed the eye contact, became uncomfortable, and looked away.

“Oh no, you look at me, you piece of shit!”

Her hand was already on the wall to the left of his head, leaning in way too close for comfort. He only took tentative glances at her, slowly shuffling to the side, away from her. He was thankful she didn't outright grab his face.

“I said look at me, dammit. Can you at least treat me like a person?!”

That confused him, his eyes still on the pillar to the side of them.

“I have never indicated I don't see you as a person,” he mumbled unsurely. He nearly felt her huff exasperatedly on his chin.

“Are…” She seemed almost choked for a short second before frowning at him again. “Am I supposed to believe you're just stupid?”

He finally took a step to the side, getting out of her hold. A nearly imperceptible growl escaped her when he did, but she removed herself from the wall and stared him down.

“Am I just expected to believe that you didn’t know how bad all of that would fucking look?! Is that your excuse?!” She spoke loudly but stopped outright yelling.

“I…” He cut himself off, realizing he needed to further think his words through. “I gave you time to contest the questions if you wanted to,” he struggled to say.

“And how did you expect me to react exactly?! I wouldn't have done the interview at all if you were just going to shit on my entire career for thirty minutes straight!”

His hand twitched. “Your career is barely existent. You’ve got one victory under your belt, one that you lost immediately after.”

She visibly fumed. So the shithead had watched that day's game too. Of course, he had. “So then why care about me at all?! If you just think I'm a piece of shit at my job, then what was the point of interviewing me in front of hundreds of people? Do you just get off on humiliating me?!”

They were starting to get looks. Robin noticed this far before Alan did. For a moment, she was self-conscious. She was making a scene so soon after being called emotional and childish for her on-camera outburst. The thought made her so upset that she nearly didn’t care about how those around her might see her. But that underlying shame was still there, that feeling that she was just being dramatic, that she should just suck it up and move on with her life. That she should just train harder and force him to eat his words. But something about looking at him directly set her off. Seeing him there, looking so lost and vaguely afraid, even through the thick facade of his expressionless face, made the barb sink so much deeper into her chest. Betrayed. She felt betrayed. And she felt stupid for it. Because it wasn’t a secret to her that he had quickly endeared himself to her, that she had found him oddly cute and charming. That she had felt that they were friends. She had known him for so little time. She shouldn’t have gotten this attached that quickly. Or shouldn’t have gotten attached at all.

“I thought the phenomenon of how you played was worth investigating,” he said, still facing the wall. Robin had to force herself to sigh. It did not help.

“What? Is my failure just fun to you?! Am I just entertaining because I'm so fucked up at playing hockey that I need to be studied?”

“I think you're taking it personally.”

“It IS personal, Alan! This isn't just my hobby! This is my life!”

“Well maybe play like it, then.” His fists were clenched hard, his brow ever so slightly furrowed. For a moment, Robin was too stunned to clap back. She fumbled with her words for a good few seconds as they kept getting stuck in her throat. The sheer audacity of the statement actually made her return to reality. Him so openly admitting he thought she was shit felt like it put an end to a small fire that had been burning her lungs. It felt like some type of closure.

“I shouldn’t even care. You're nothing but some nobody on the internet. Your own followers are getting tired of you, and you're more preoccupied with shitting on me than getting your mediocre career back on track.”

“You're trying to offend me, and it is not going to work.” He spat at her, looking now at her feet.

“Ryley was right about you. You're nothing but a neurotic freak with an ego up your ass!”

“Listen, I just want to go purchase something. I have nothing to say to you.”

“No wonder nobody likes you. Nothing is ever enough for you.”

That, Robin noticed, lightly changed the look in his eyes. “Listen.” His shoulders tensed, and to her surprise, he turned to face her, still looking at her feet. He took a step toward her, and they were once again toe to toe with each other.

“You have no experience with what being less than enough is like. If you really weren't enough, that coach of yours would have kicked you out a long time ago. I’ve seen her do worse for less. You’ve waved to your loving family at plenty of your games since university.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

He should have shut up then, but an unstable cocktail of built-up frustration and anger was making him unreasonable. “Nothing I do is ever enough. Not for my family, not for my audience, not even for my own employee, and clearly not for you.”

Robin only raised an eyebrow, demanding he elaborate. He happily did. “I gave you every single question written out on paper and would have easily sent you a digital copy if you asked. I gave you a week to make the choice, to communicate with me, and yet you said nothing. It was clear you couldn’t even be bothered to read any of them. I would have changed them. I would have called off the interview if it was really that bad. I had everything set up to avoid disaster, but that was not enough. I tell my viewers that I’m going to interview a professional player, but that's not good enough. I lose nearly half of my income to pay my assistant a livable wage by just doing the job he signed up for, and that is not enough. I show my family over and over that I’m managing my life and have found even a little success in what I do, and that is still not enough. It’s never fucking enough.”

Robin blinked, her breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t what he was saying that surprised her, but how he said it. For all his usual detachment, this was the first time she had seen him genuinely vulnerable. She tried to shake that feeling off. He was the one who had treated her like a lab rat for his personal gain. He didn’t get to turn this around on her now, not after everything.

“That’s your excuse? You’re sad, so you did this to me?” She bristled.

“I am not giving you excuses. I am just simply expressing how I feel since you’re so intent on arguing.”

“What you feel?! What about what I felt?! When you still posted that stupid interview when I was clearly not happy with it?!”

“You didn’t tell me not to post it. You didn’t tell me anything. You just left.”

“And you’re going to tell me you didn’t see I was upset about it? It was obvious, you should have known!”

“Your subpar communication skills are not my responsibility.”

“Oh, we’re talking about communication, how funny. I would have LOVED for you to have communicated that you thought I was a stupid piece of shit instead of schmoozing me up at dinner and texting me like we were best friends!”

He was taken aback by that last statement, finally catching himself staring at her again, this time in sheer disbelief. “What do you mean by that?” he said slowly.

“If you were just going to insult my playing, why did you act so polite, take me out, and… and make me trust you?”

She sounded… hurt by the end of the sentence, her burning ire fading into the background ever so slightly. Alan couldn't decipher it, but he was dumbfounded by the very question.

“Because you’re a person. Even if a messy one, you are still a high-level professional player. And just… because I respect you? I never thought that you were stupid, and I just… Why wouldn’t I?

She was exhausted. She only then realized it. Frustration was starting to burn away at the last of her energy reserves along with her sore arms and bruised calves. She let out a huffy, exasperated noise as she held her head in her hands. It dawned on her what she was doing and how stupid and insane it looked to everyone around her. Was she being childish? She didn't know and only half cared. But she knew then that she wanted this to be over.

“Are you even sorry?” She simply sounded tired now, the tone of her voice significantly higher-pitched than before. Alan was able to sense this, and therefore his own defensiveness lowered, but he still had to take a moment to think about it.

“I do not think it is my fault, but I am sorry it turned out like this,” was all he could say. Robin stayed quiet, looking at him in a way that made him deeply uncomfortable, and he finally had enough.

“Goodbye, Miss Ayou.” It took a lot of strength for him to turn around and walk away, but he finally did, leaving Robin to deal with the stares. The supermarket had already closed.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She was going hungry tonight. She refused to spend more money on takeout, and Cal had his parents over, so she couldn't raid his fridge tonight. She was almost tempted to ask Sam for food, but the fear that Coach Maida could be the one to answer the phone was enough to dissuade her.

She should have, by all means, gone to sleep already. Her tired body was screaming at her, and her frayed nerves couldn't handle any more, but she just couldn't feel like it. That was very much like her, procrastinating even when it came to sleep. Fuck, she did not want to go to training tomorrow. If only she could call in sick like any other job, well, at least any job where Coach Maida wasn’t in charge. She tried to think of ways to get out of it while boiling some water. She really needed to get a kettle. Busting out the pot every time she wanted to fill her hot water bottle was getting beyond annoying, especially since these days she had to do it daily. Everything hurt. She looked over to her room and heavily considered rolling one out, but it would go to waste if she was just going to fall asleep five minutes later.

In minutes, she was on the couch, a hot water bottle pressed against her shoulder, her phone at ten percent, bright in the darkness. She scrolled past a group chat with her teammates, a message from her mom asking how she was doing, and a few promotional emails from places she'd never shop at. She was in that mood in which she couldn't stay on a single app for more than a couple of seconds, her attention span wouldn’t sit with her for more than that. She leaned her head back against the couch, trying to force herself to relax. Eventually, she decided to scroll through YouTube Shorts since she hadn’t tried that yet. Pretty quickly, that got boring as well, so she began looking through her YouTube feed. Maybe her favorite ichthyologist YouTuber had posted something new today.

Like a bitter metallic taste suddenly making its way into her mouth, a video showed up on the feed that nearly jump-scared her. She sat upright on her couch and stared at the screen. She thought she had unsubscribed from that stupid channel earlier today. Did she really forget to do it then, too? Fuck, she was stupid.

She collapsed back down again. “Stupid, stupid, stupid…” she muttered to herself tiredly. The video still stared her in the face. It made her angry. She felt the urge to report it, but she knew that doing that would actually cross the line into being childish. Currently, she was frozen. Something in her stopped her from scrolling along, unsubscribing, or doing anything about the situation that was bothering her. She placed the phone on her chest. She never did watch any videos from him, maybe if she had, she would have picked up that he was an asshole before she agreed to be part of them. And thinking about it more, she felt like an idiot again. She really did just like the idea of being interviewed like a celebrity, regardless of who did it. She never cared about his channel or whatever greater goal he had in mind. She just wanted to feel good about herself. Was that wrong of her? It felt like it was.

His little speech still bothered her. It wasn’t unimaginable that he had his own bullshit going on. Everyone did. Robin was convinced that everyone thought the world was caving in around them half the time. He wasn’t special. Still, she had to feel bad because it was true, if she had just not lost the paper like a moron, this wouldn’t have happened. He said so himself. And, God, she was never going to live down what Cal told her to do. Just ask for the questions again. She had avoided doing it for such a stupid reason, too. And that's the part that bruised her ego the most.

Because she was attracted to him. That had been apparent from minute one. She had wanted to look cool in front of him. She didn’t want him to know she was an idiot. And what hurt the most was finding out he already did. Seemingly from the start, he knew. And she really was stupid, wasn’t she? Her tooth still stood sharp and broken in her mouth, the image of the scoreboard was still seared into her brain.

Why hadn’t Maida kicked her out yet? If she let a boy get under her skin like a teenager, surely she deserved to be left behind with the college kids like so many of the other girls did. She should have never been drafted. This was a mistake. She was just destined for nothing, like all her school teachers had told her.

She curled up on the couch, burying her face against the cushion. She was spiraling again. She needed a distraction, now. She took out her phone and just mindlessly clicked on the video. Fuck it. Maybe getting angry at Alan again would get her back on track. What the video was even about didn’t matter, as long as it was something other than more loud thoughts of self-hate. Alan was in front of a whiteboard with a projection on it. He wasted no time, beginning to scribble and talk at length. Robin immediately recognized the topic, neutral zone traps, forechecking, and counterattacks. She stared at the screen, watching Alan’s hands move across the whiteboard, the slight tilt of his head as he spoke. She was annoyed that even now, after everything, he could still captivate her attention. Pathetic.

The video droned on about the timing of offensive breakouts and how players should anticipate defensive collapses. But then something in the video caught her ear, a mention of adaptability. Alan was saying something about how great players aren’t just skilled at executing strategies, they’re able to adapt to changing circumstances. The ones who succeed long-term are the ones who can read a situation, make quick decisions, and adjust, even when things go off script. She was good at that, she thought. Robin had always been quick on her feet and would thrust herself at any opportunity that presented itself to strike. Heh, she was so dead set on improvising that she had… broken… her tooth. She instinctively ran her tongue along the jagged edge of it, wincing at the reminder. Improvising was her strength, sure, but sometimes it came with a cost.

Alan’s voice brought her back to the video. He was talking about the importance of balance, knowing when to adapt but also knowing when to stick to the fundamentals. "It’s not just about reacting to the situation," he said, his tone calm but firm. "It’s about controlling how you react.” Robin remembered that incident, how it had happened because she flung herself at a loose puck and accidentally planted the toe picks of her skates on the ground and fell over. She hadn't thought about the consequences, about how her desperate attempts to turn the tide were turning into sloppy mistakes.

Robin gritted her teeth. Control. That word made her stomach churn. It was what Coach Maida had been drilling into her head for months now. Her natural instincts were sharp. She’d fight tooth and nail to force a play, to make something happen, but in doing so, she’d lose sight of the bigger picture and…

Her head was starting to hurt. She got off of YouTube, cutting the video off. She stared at the ceiling for God knows how long. Thankfully, she had the loud sounds of cars honking outside to save her from being submerged in the silence. She hugged the hot water bottle. Well, just like he seemed, Alan was smart. Too smart. Too blunt as well. He hadn’t just made his points by themselves. He had provided examples for every single aspect he was discussing, heavily criticizing a number of players in the process. She let out a deep sigh. Alright, maybe it wasn’t personal. She still found what happened in the interview incredibly rude and insensitive, especially with how little faith people naturally have in female hockey. But she supposed he just didn’t consider that. It was weird, actually, how little he cared about that fact. She looked through his recent videos, and the last seven of them were all about female games, even if she noticed that those had fewer views than the previous male-led ones.

A sudden urge to ask him about it popped into her head. It was just a fleeting notion, but the fact that she had just thought of texting him about why he liked female hockey like that caught her off guard. Like she hadn’t just sworn off ever thinking of him again a few hours prior.

“Uuuuugh, nooooooooo…” she whined lowly. Watching that video had done something for her. She just saw him, so focused and objective, that she finally had to realize that Alan was just some guy. He loved hockey like an obsessive little kid who cared about the game itself so much that people's feelings just slipped his mind. Could she really be that mad at that? He himself had admitted to her that he was autistic, and- no. No, no, no, no. That was NOT an excuse. Never had been, never would be. But what, she just wasn't mad at him anymore? What was she supposed to do with that? She didn't just want to forgive him. But… he wasn’t malicious. He was… blunt, obsessive, maybe even careless, but not cruel. She was almost certain of that now. Maybe she was infantilizing him, but that was better than considering him a shitbag. Robin remembered what he had told her, that although she was messy, she was still a professional. Did he always feel that way about her? How she felt now? So lukewarm and weirdly disturbed by the existence of a grown adult who was so… clumsy. Her with her feet and him with his words.

She briefly considered that her brain might just be looking for excuses to let things go so she could fawn over him again. It was at that moment that she made a choice. If she was going to go anywhere with this relationship, that attraction had to go. He wasn't some irresistible supermodel. Most of what appealed to her was just that he was taller than her, which most men weren't. He was decently polite, but she had gotten a good enough look at his personality to realize that the soft boy sweetheart persona she had built up in her head was far from the truth. She had been into her girlfriends before, and she got over that. Yes, this was the right choice. She could do this.

Now the question was, did she want to continue their relationship? If she even could, he looked pretty pissed at her too. But if they made up, what would become of whatever they had? Well, first of all, any more videos were off the table. But that had been the only reason they even met in the first place. The only reason he approached her, and the only reason she followed along with the weirdo that ran to corner her in the street. She huffed. Well, at least they were even cornering each other in public. The point was, what else did she want from him?

She thought about it while scratching dirt from under her fingernails, and rather easily, she had her answer. She felt bad for him. Not just because she screamed at him in public, but because of everything. Like she said, he wasn't special for having his own emotional baggage, which he had revealed to her seemingly on impulse. But still, even before that, he had such wet dog energy. When they were on good terms, he would text her incessantly, like he had no one else to talk to. She had a suspicion that was the reason he invited her out to dinner instead of just forwarding her the questions via email. And now she knew that he was aware that Ryley, his only work colleague, thought badly of him. Adding that he also briefly mentioned having family issues, something Robin had never been familiar with.

If she wasn't going to be his friend, then no one else would. And something about her hypersocial brain wouldn't let that go. Was she really going to let go of all the humiliation and anger to adopt a thirty yearold man? Fuck, she needed to broaden her hobbies.

She lay down comfortably again and put a pin in that thought. She was being hormonal or something. She had just finished tearing his ear out. She couldn't just call him up and be like, Hey, sorry, let’s be friends. She wasn't a saint.

Looking at her phone with five percent battery left, she decided she had enough of videos and hopped on Twitter. Robin had fought for her life to keep her Twitter hockey-free. She had enough of that shit on the daily. When she had phone time in bed, she would prefer to look at videos of Cuddlefish. Well, until a few days ago, of course. Following Alan had completely thrown off her algorithm, if only because of how much he tweeted. She should have known that she couldn't avoid him here either. There were just old threads of arguing until she got to the top, where she inevitably came across his most recent tweet and…

“Let it be on record that I do not condone the misogynistic and degrading comments made about the athlete Robin Ayou as a result of my video.”

Suddenly, it was quiet even on the street outside. Without thinking, she clicked on the thread and continued reading.

“While I stand by my analysis of her play, it’s important to separate criticism of performance from personal attacks. I respect Robin as a player and as a person, and any comments attacking her have no place in the discussion.”

He hadn’t tagged her in the tweet. Maybe he thought that was him being respectful, but now she wished he had. At least then she could have responded, said her piece, and maybe even defended herself instead of just being some invisible target. She looked at the time it was posted. Ten minutes ago. So after their spat at the mall. Even after all of that…

She buried her face in her hands. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck…” she groaned. She stood up, back pain be damned. She stomped over to her room and plugged in her phone, not waiting for the little sound to ring before going into her contacts and searching for a familiar name. Alphabetically, it was the first. She put the phone to her ear as her breath caught in her throat. What was she doing? Whatever it was, she had to do it now before she lost her nerve or her pride swallowed her alive. The phone was already ringing, so there was no going back now.

The sound permeated for an unbearably long time. A small part of her was hoping he wouldn't pick up. That she could tell herself that she tried and that it was him who rejected her.

The ringing stopped.

“A-”

“I will have you know that it is only legal to claim defamation if the statements made are both false and damaging to your reputation. I have extensive proof of all my claims and proof of your consent to-”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! No, no, no, no, no! I never- I don't- what?”

“I would urge you not to allow this to go to court.”

“Alan, I am not trying to sue you!”

“Then what do you want?”

The words suddenly got caught in her throat. For what felt like an eternity, she was unable to say anything out of sheer nervousness.

“Miss Ayou, this is considered harassment.” His voice never wavered once.

“No! Wait! Fuck! I just- I’m sorry!”

“What was that?”

“I- I- I” She sighed harshly. “I’m sorry, Alan.”

“Okay.”

Robin blinked. That's it? Okay? She nearly said that out loud. A short silence followed before she realized it really was on her to make this count. “I did take it personally. Too personally. I know now that you're like that with every player, and I shouldn't have accused you of trying to hurt me.”

“Because I wasn't.”

“I know. Listen, I was being irrational back there at the mall. That wasn't deserved. I shouldn't have made a scene like that.”

“Is that it?”

He was really going to milk her dry, wasn’t he? “Alright, I'm also sorry for the interview. It… it was stupid. I should have done something more productive than just digging my heels in like that.”

“Miss Ayou?”

She wished his voice would soften even a little but knew that even if he was in a good mood, it almost never did.

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you read the interview questions?”

She dragged her palm across her face, hunched her shoulders, and held back a groan. He noticed. Of course, he noticed. She had no choice but to rip off the band-aid now.

“I… I lost the paper…”

Where had the cars outside gone? She couldn’t deal with this silence!

“Are you serious?”

“Yyyyyep…”

“You’re not messing with me?”

“Why would I make this up?” She sounded like she wanted to jump off a pier because honestly, she did.

“I just…” That was the first time she had ever heard him lose his words like that. It was honestly intimidating.

“Why???” His pitch heightened in disbelief. She swallowed hard, she couldn't decide if this was going better or worse than she had expected.

“I just put it away and then I couldn't find it.”

“Are you one hundred percent certain?”

“Yes? I know it's the dumbest shit you've ever heard, but that's what happened.”

She could hear fiddling on the other line. He must have started to pace.

“And… why… didn't you ask for a copy??”

She briefly couldn't speak again. Her face was burning, and it was making her dizzy. What did she expect to say here? I had a crush on you, so I didn't want to embarrass myself? Well, yeah, that exactly, but for the sake of her sanity, she would omit some things.

“I didn't… want you to know that I lost it. Because… well, like I said, it's stupid, and I didn't want you to think I was an idiot for losing something so simple.”

It was his turn to struggle to speak for a couple of seconds. “I- Robin, what you did is much dumber than just asking for them again.”

“I know!”

Alan, on his side, had in fact been pacing around his room, eventually, he had to stop and sit back on the bed. He ran a hand through his hair and fiddled with his shirt collar for several seconds before thinking of how to continue. Robin was waiting for a response, as she had fallen silent, save for the occasional short squeal of frustration that would come through.

“So this was all a misunderstanding then.” He didn't sound completely sure.

“Ugh, I mean no. It's mostly my fault. I'll take that, but it's because I wouldn't have done the interview if I had known what the questions were.”

Alan sighed. "So you went into the interview blind. And now you’re apologizing after wanting to kill me four hours ago."

"Yes! I get it, okay? I’m an idiot. I didn’t plan for it to spiral like this."

"That’s an understatement," he muttered. There was a pause.

"You didn’t have to make that interview so brutal," Robin said, more quietly now.

"You expected me to go easy on you?" Alan’s voice was incredulous.

She was going to implode. “Well, when you put it like that, I look like a little bitch.”

“What do you plan to do when criticism like this comes to you again?”

Robin buried her face in her free hand. “I’ve gotten worse, just not in front of a bunch of people, man!”

“You're twenty three, you'll recover.” He attempted to comfort her, but it only agitated her more for reasons unknown to him.

“D-don't treat me like a kid!” Her face was flushed, and her ears got hot.

“I never did. I simply meant to say that you have the rest of your career ahead of you.”

She brought her knees to her chest, her voice coming out much softer than either of them had anticipated. “So what? Do I just have ‘potential’ and nothing else? Is that how you see me?”

This time she could hear him breathe through the phone. “I'm not that important, Robin.”

Her eyes widened momentarily, and she mentally kicked herself for caring so much again. She was taking too long to answer, so he did in her stead. “I don't understand. Are you upset because you found the video defamatory or because you think I dislike you?”

Even through her pinkish-brown skin, the dark red of her blush could show through. That was a good question. The obvious answer was both, but if she looked inside herself, she could find which of the two dug at her ego the hardest.

“It's not like we're even friends.”

And she was not about to be honest about that.

“I suppose not.”

They were both quiet for a long time. It didn't feel right to hang up, but neither could come up with something more substantial to say.

She cleared her throat. “Look, I didn’t call you to- ugh, whatever this is. I just wanted to say sorry for blowing up. I… I get that you were just doing your job, and I need to stop making everything personal.”

“Good,” Alan said flatly.

Robin felt her heart sink just a little, even though she’d expected him to say something like that. What had she been hoping for?

“I just... I don’t want to be on bad terms with you. That’s all.”

“Bad terms? Robin, this wasn’t personal. I don’t go around trying to make enemies of people.”

“Well, you got pretty personal back at the mall with that little spiel about your life.” She said with a certain venom in her voice. This was supposed to be an apology, but she refused to pretend like she was the only emotional one in the situation.

He choked for a second, almost dropping his phone in the process. When he finally spoke, his voice sounded more than a little strained. “That was an oversight.”

“And what? Do mistakes only have consequences when I make them?”

He hesitated for several seconds. “And what consequences am I supposed to suffer then?”

It was Robin's turn to stall. During the span of five seconds, she went through all five stages of grief for her pride and finally settled on what she wanted. “I want you to forgive me.”

He blinked a couple of times. That was a much simpler request than he had expected. “I already did.”

“Forgive me like you mean it.”

“How am I supposed to prove that?” He was utterly perplexed, even if he didn't fully convey it.

“Everything has to go back to normal between you and me. Back to the random blocks of text at 3 PM. Back to asking about our day. No more videos or interviews in mind. Just talk, like normal.”

Alan was close to short circuiting. This took a turn that he never could have expected. “But like you said, we are not friends.”

“Well, fuck you, you’re my friend now.”

“What? Do I get a choice in the matter?”

“Nope.”

“You can't do that.”

“Sure can, white boy.”

“What does that have to do with anything?!”

“Talk to you tomorrow, Al. Good night.”

She hung up, leaving him more confused than he had been in his life. What?