#nothing more punk rock than being disabled

[21stc3nturyd1gitalb0y]

shoutout to disabled punks who can’t go to shows by themselves so they have to be accompanied by a parent/caretaker! i see you… in the mirror

[transbookoftheday]

🧛 Trans Vampire Books 🧛

Can't get enough of What We Do In The Shadows? Read some trans vampire books!

A whirlwind romance between an eccentric archivist and a grieving widow explores what it means to be at home in your own body in this clever, humorous, and heartfelt novel. When archivist Sol meets Elsie, the larger than life widow of a moderately famous television writer who’s come to donate her wife’s papers, there’s an instant spark. But Sol has a secret: he suffers from an illness called vampirism, and hides from the sun by living in his basement office. On their way to falling in love, the two traverse grief, delve into the Internet fandom they once unknowingly shared, and navigate the realities of transphobia and the stigmas of carrying the “vampire disease.” Then, when strange things start happening at the collection, Sol must embrace even more of the unknown to save himself and his job. DEAD COLLECTIONS is a wry novel full of heart and empathy, that celebrates the journey, the difficulties and joys, in finding love and comfort within our own bodies.

In becoming a vampire, I’m less than a girl. And more. Or maybe I’m becoming what I always have been, deep inside. A blade. When nineteen-year-old Fin volunteers to take her secret love’s place in their village’s Finding, she is terrified. Those who are chosen at the Finding are whisked away to Castle Courtsheart, a vampire school where human students either succeed and become vampires, fail and spend the rest of their lives as human thralls…or they don’t survive long enough to become either. Fin is determined to forge a different path: learn how to kill the undead and get revenge for her mother, who was taken by the vampires years ago. But Courtsheart is as captivating as it is deadly, and Fin is quickly swept up in her new world and its inhabitants - particularly Gavron, her handsome and hostile vampire maker, whose blood is nothing short of intoxicating. As Fin begins to discover new aspects of her own identity and test her newfound powers, she stumbles across a string of murders that may be connected to a larger ritual - one with potentially lethal consequences for vampires and humans alike. Fin must uncover the truth and find the killer before she loses her life…or betrays her own heart.

ARC 1, IN WHICH: A cute punk-rock vampire and a disabled firefighter-turned-mall-cop with a dark past join forces to battle the forces of evil. Jude used to leap out of helicopters to rescue/protect people from terrifying infernos. Now, by day, he protects the local mall from rowdy teenagers who ride their skateboards inside. By night, he protects the the parking lot, and the rest of Portland, from undead, bloodsucking creatures of the darkness. Or would if he could find them. But he’s just about ready to give it up (living with PTSD and pain from the traumatic event that cost him a leg, a friend, and a lot more is hard enough), when something crashes into his life. And his window. It’s one of these creatures of the darkness - and he’s a lot less scary than expected. More cuddly, with dark fuzzy wings, and neon-bright hair. His name is Pixie, and he refuses to bite anyone. Assault/murder/draining fluids isn’t punk, even if being a vampire really kind of is. He’s very hungry by now, and the much bigger, meaner, deadlier vamps kick him around on the nightly. Jude would love to find and fight some actual undead bullies. And Pixie could use some help staying… ‘alive.’ Time to make a deal. Of course, life still sucks when you’re a vampire who refuses to suck blood. Fortunately, there’s a really interesting new barbecue restaurant in the mall, with an intriguing new recipe. (We hear that the secret ingredient is… love. No, really.)

Darren is your average half-human, half-fae trans teenager, busy figuring out his powers and puberty while trying to survive finals. When Vlad, a newly turned vampire, moves in with the witch down the street, he and Darren get off on the wrong foot. Darren is always one to give somebody a second chance, though, and as they become friends, he realizes Vlad is just lonely and struggling with his new powers. That’s something Darren can definitely relate to, and he’s happy to lend his support. But while he coaxes Vlad out of his shell, Darren ends up learning about Vlad’s past… and the danger Vlad is in. Darren only wants to help—help Vlad feel comfortable in his own skin and help him feel safe. He hadn’t planned on falling in love.

Book titles:

Dead Collections by Isaac Fellman

Court of the Undying Seasons by A.M. Strickland

Stake Sauce, Arc 1: The Secret Ingredient Is Love. No, Really by RoAnna Sylver

Showers, Flowers, and Fangs by Aidan Wayne

[robbiefischer]

💭 📚 🩹 🎶 for Viola and Jamila?

Ooooh, these are such great questions anon, thank you!! And tysm for asking about my girls! Since I've never talked about them here, here are the absolute basics. Jamila (35 years old) and Viola (37 years old) are another set of my doctor wives - Jamila's a plastic surgeon and Viola's a trauma surgeon, and they both work at the same hospital in New Islington. I apologize in advance for any missing words/spelling issues - my dog's kept me up most of the night the last couple of nights because of storms (plus my partner, who she adores, has been on a business trip) and my brain feels mushy af not getting much sleep.

💭 THOUGHT BALLOON — what is your oc's MBTI, enneagram, and/or other personality aspects (if known/interested in)?

So, I don't usually do MBTI or enneagram stuff for my OCs but I decided to take a test for each of them answering as I think they would based off of what I know about them and it was a really interesting experiment, ty!

Viola is an ENTJ-A (assertive subtype, apparently) which... makes perfect sense, really. She is 100% a natural born leader, is extremely charismatic, loves nothing more than a challenge and is very goal and achievement-oriented. She has a very big personality and sort of commands attention and respect, if that makes sense. She's not obnoxious about it at all, it's just who she is and how people respond to her energy. She's also an enneagram type 8, wing 7 which seems to correspond well to her MBTI type.

Jamila is an ENFJ-A, although quite a bit less extroverted than her wife. She's closer to the border between I and E and definitely has moments where she needs time to herself to recharge her energy. She very much has the "wants to do the right thing always" trait, and loves nothing more than an opportunity to help her friends and family grow into the people that they're supposed to be. Jamila is an enneagram type 3, wing 2.

📚 BOOKS — what level of education has your oc most recently completed/is currently in (GED, undergraduate, grad school, phd, etc)?

Jamila and Viola both finished medical school, then went on to do fellowships in their respective specialities - Viola in trauma surgery, Jamila in plastic surgery.

🩹 ADHESIVE BANDAGE — does your oc have any physical and/or mental disabilities?

Sorry, I know this is probably boring but I don't think either of them have any physical or mental disabilities.

🎶 MUSICAL NOTES — what type of music does your oc like? do they listen to music very often?

Viola absolutely loves music and listens to it whenever it's practical (the only time it's not blasting in her OR is when she's got another surgeon in there with her who can't concentrate with music on). She tends to be drawn to rock, especially harder rock and alt rock, punk and post-punk, heavy metal, some industrial and EDM (especially dubstep). When she was younger (as a teenager and young adult) she was a constant presence in the local scene, and spent so much of her time going to shows and being in the pit. Now, she still loves going to shows but is a lot more careful and less willing to take dumb risks especially if she could hurt herself or her hands - her job's too important to her.

Jamila's not actually a huge music person. She doesn't dislike it or anything, and has artists she really enjoys but she just doesn't tend to think of putting it on most of the time. She's another of my OCs who tends to really prefer music without lyrics - she loves minimalist, modern piano music and film scores more than anything else. If she's going to listen to music she'll probably put on a little Joep Beving, Arvo Part, Megan Wofford, Gavin Luke, Franz Gordon, Reeder, Arden Forest, Ludovico Einaudi, Max Richter or someone like that. It's soothing and helps her center herself, and she has a playlist that she always listens to before bed to help her brain wind down (it's one of the few times she DOES think to listen to music).

[rookie-critic]

Wendell & Wild (2022, dir. Henry Selick) - review by Rookie-Critic

Wendell & Wild was a wonderful stop-motion animated film with one of the best soundtracks of 2022 and a story that, while nothing spectacularly new, was wildly entertaining and full of Halloween heart. The newest from Coraline and The Nightmare Before Christmas visionary Henry Selick from a script co-written by Selick and Jordan Peele, Wendell & Wild follows Kat, an orphaned girl who, failed by the system, is dumped into a school for girls as a part of a juvenile detention rehabilitation program (the headmaster of which is very much just in it for the funding it gives to his school). Shortly after arriving, Kat starts to notice strange powers arising within her, and sees two demons (the titular Wendell & Wild, played by none other than Keegan-Michael Key & Peele) that tell her they can bring her parents back if she'll summon them to the land of the living. It of course is a bit more complicated than that, but there's your bird's eye view.

The cast of this film is a nice mix of a few veteran names alongside a slurry of fresh talent, and almost all of the newer names give fantastic performances. I'll note that a couple of the performances felt very wooden, and stood out all the more because of the phenomenal job being done by the rest of the cast. Another win for this film is its commitment to positive representation with a number of characters, the most prominent of which being the trans character Raúl. Outside of a handful of moments where the fact that Raúl is trans are brought up, the character is allowed to exist and not have his whole character defined by his gender, but rather by his loyalty and artistry. It just really seems like a lot of love and care went into making sure his character, as well as other characters representative of a marginalized group, were not portrayed as a token character of that group, but just as another character in the movie, who are fully realized personalities that are not just pigeonholed into "the trans character" or "the disabled character." That effort did not go unnoticed and I applaud Selick and Peele for making that happen. I'll also applaud this film for daring to be dark and go places that a traditional "family friendly" film wouldn't and discuss themes that most studios would say are "too mature" for a younger audience. Discussing death and loss in such a direct way, and especially framing that loss as a child losing both of their parents at an intensely young age, is a bold move on Selick's part. He, of course, is no stranger to darker themes, having made movies like Coraline, but somehow Wendell & Wild feels more grounded, more real in its depiction of death, even though it still has a foot firmly planted in the darkly fantastical, and I appreciate a movie that's willing to give a younger demographic a little more credit and give them the exposure to mature themes with the idea that they can understand and handle them.

Now it's time to give a shout out to the biggest pro this film has in its corner: the soundtrack. The needle drops in this film are insanely well done with near Guardians of the Galaxy levels of style and precision, with a track list mostly consisting of punk rock music from the late 70s/early 80s, but that ventures into alternative rock acts like TV on the Radio, and even throws in some ska for good measure. Every track hits as intended when it plays in the film, and I could not be more of a fan. If this collection of songs were available for purchase on vinyl or even CD, I'd be first in line to buy it. This one's been at the back of my head, buried in my much-neglected "streaming watch list," ever since it dropped on Netflix back in late October, and I'm glad I finally took the time to sit down and check it out.

Score: 9/10

Currently streaming on Netflix.

[euaxel]

heyyy, eonia. i’m reid, i’m twenty-three, still can’t read, and all i know about pjo is that it fucking rocks and the protag has the same learning disabilities that i do! also, i picked hypnos for this punk mainly to be mean to him and because in the hades game hypnos bullies me every time i die and i’m kiiiinda into it. hmu on discord one on one for the best plotting experience, but i’ll be around plenty to bug y’all in the gc too. you can read about bastard boy number one right here and under the cut we’ll get down to business. 

⟨ ELLIOT FLETCHER. TRANS MALE. HE/HIM. ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, AXEL EVERETT is actually a descendent of H Y P N O S. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-TWO year old VIDEO GAME DEVELOPMENT & COMBAT TACTICS MAJOR from BROOKLYN, USA has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite WITTY & SELF-DEPRICATING.

be advised, axel’s a pretty heavy character.  i’m gonna keep it brief for the bio & need-to-knows, tag around the parts with bold applicable triggers so you can skip around as needed, and tag this post accordingly, but just let me know if i miss anything and i’ll fix it & be safe reading. godspeed and i apologize in advance for bringing you all my personal punching bag as my first muse. 

the main triggers that are gonna come up are: parental abuse, alcoholism * major, mentions of bullying, drowning * major, religious trauma, and drug abuse with some harder drugs ( particularly, weed, pills and cocaine / nothing with needles. )

general stats. 

— full name ,  axel harley everett.  — nicknames/alias ,  axe, ax, wolverine jr, tyler durden jr, trouble, Who? - every professor he’s ever had. — house,  hypnos and mad about it.  — age, 22, as of today. also mad about it.  — gender,  trans male.    — pronouns,  he/him.  — sexual orientation, bisexual with a somewhat heavy masc lean.  — d.o.b, january 1st, 1999. ( generally unknown to anyone but maybe siblings, he will probably lie and say Nobody Knows... I Just Am unless he really fucks with you. ) — hometown,

phys. 

— height,  5′0ft even. furious about it. — eyes,  brown. — hair, brown.  — face claim, elliot fletcher.

misc.

— zodiac,  capricorn. — alignment,  chaotic good. — character inspo,  lip gallagher, steve rogers ( young ), ellie from tlou1, logan howlett, stiles stilinski ( if anyone says shit i will scream ), probably someone from euphoria but i’m too scared to watch that, peter parker ( andrew garfield ), shinsou hitoshi, finn mertens, marceline the vampire queen, dipper pines, this is all over the place but it’s there.  — most played spotify songs, passion for publication by anarbor, sober haha jk unless by hospital bracelet, nobody by mitski, class of 2013 by mitski, king princess’ cover of monster from adventure time, way too much phoebe bridgers, in love or whatever by future teens, and the entire front bottoms discography but especially in sickness & in flames with the hard way & bus beat well at the top of his loop.  — aesthetics,   bloody knuckles, left open and tipped over prescription bottles, walking on the carpet with socks to get that tingly feeling, skateboarding inside, dozing off at the bar, tangled legs in messy sheets, ten pillows on a twin sized mattress, laying down in the shower, brian sella’s cracky singing voice. 

bio. 

— axel was born and raised in brooklyn, new york, and he was claimed at thirteen, on his thirteenth birthday, by hypnos. — the day he was claimed, axel ceased contact with his human mother and his step-dad, and he attended a camp for half-bloods that wasn’t far from home. he spent his adolescence there year round for safety from monsters at home and abroad, then moved on to eonia.  — ( parental abuse tw, drowning tw begin ) i don’t want to be too graphic here so i’m going to plainly say that axel’s mother was a very, very bad person, and the man she married was absent at his best, physically abusive at worst. axel’s powers (  hypnokinesis, namely )  were potent and difficult to control at a young age, and as a deeply religious catholic woman, this scared his mother and influenced most of the animosity in their relationship. she was convinced that the defensive visions he created and his ability to put her to sleep ( an attempt to help her, on his end; insomnia plagued her and later, it would him, too ) were of demonic origin, and tried to drown him more than once; cleansing, she claimed. the worst instance was the day he was claimed, actually — new years day, 2012; his life was saved by hypnos, and that was the last he saw of her.   ( parental abuse tw, drowning tw end. )  —  that said, he’s a little ( very ) hydrophobic. poseidon kids do NOT fucking interact ( i’m kidding. kind of. he Will avoid a little though ) —  anyway! moving on. all of this aside, axel did his best to put his past behind him, and he was actually super stoked to learn that his powers came from somewhere good and that there was places out there for kids like him; to learn he wasn’t any kind of monster. ( still working on believing that, though.. marcelines monster.mp3 right here )  — he’s less stoked when he starts having trouble falling asleep, and really, it feels like a more cruel twist than any other fate has thrown at him ( his upbringing was chock full of mean twists, so that’s saying something ); and really, it’s more like insomnia just full on kicks in, but he can put other people to sleep. great, right? whatever, though — combat classes are kickass and he’s surrounded by babes that think he’s hilarious so things could be totally, way worse.  — ( bullying tw (brief) ) for the most part, axel was pretty well liked among his peers. he was bullied as a young kid (pre-claim), but he bit back and he bit back hard, and sure, some of that followed him into his teen years but he’s more confident by then; less fun to poke at, and absolutely unhinged when provoked, so people learn better of it. the only real lasting effect was one instant that hit him a little too deep in the inferiority, when he was seventeen — he fell in love with a girl, told her that, and found himself at the end of a very mean spirited prank. he shook it off like he did anything else, or at least — he told himself he did, even if the hurt hit him somewhere a little too deep rooted ( ie. being god’s most unlovable son would naturally land him here, right? ) love’s kinda stupid anyways, so what the hell, right?  (bullying tw end.)

— ( alcoholism tw, drug use tw begin ) this is already obscenely long so i’m just going to keep it to the point here and say he began drinking when he was sneaking booze in to camp at fifteen, and it just never stopped there. he’s also a massive stoner, which is all well, harmless and good for the most part; he’s always grinning, half-lidded, and has a room full of smoke at any given time. it’s the pills that do him in, and he did them at first just so he could get some shut eye, and... well. after that, because he’s dependent on them. but he keeps this part under wraps for the most part; it doesn’t have to be anyone’s problem but his, and it’s not a problem until it is one. partying’s fun, so is coke; so is taking a few too many xan’s, mdma.   ( alcoholism tw, drug use tw end )

FUN FACTS!!! 

— i swear he is not as doom and gloom as he sounds from the bio, and yeah, writing that made me so sad i feel like we absolutely must hone in on the fun and cute things about him!?!  — he loves dnd. he can talk about it for HOURS and if you let him, he absolutely will. — adventure time makes him cry. he’s a baby don’t let him fool you.  — very into cryptids, aliens, horror stories, conspiracy theories, in love with ryan from watcher, wanna be shane medej.  — he loves to draw! the one thing he loves about his power is what it’s done for his imagination, and sure, he mostly draws horror things, but it’s why he went into video game development. he wants to be a concept artist.  — his double major is in combat tactics because he loves fighting. he thinks it’s so fun. he’s a little nuts, actually — i mean, get hit in the face and come up grinning. all he’s ever wanted is to run a fight club and be the shortest, baddest little bitch on the planet.  — he tends to nod off in weird places because he doesn’t sleep enough at night, which is sad, but; he can seriously fall asleep anywhere. standing up, in a tree, you name it.  — he’s a hobby musician! he loves singing and playing guitar.  — he’s a huge flirt.  — loves to scare people. he’s harmless, though. like, honestly. he might make you think you’re seeing a walking toadstool but he’ll probably apologize later.  — he’s very much a singing in the shower type?  — clothes thief. friends and significant others beware.  — actually, just kind of a thief? but of weird, little things. like, just the left shoe. puts them in a little corner in his room that he has set up like an exhibit. “things you thought you lost lol” is written on the whiteboard on the wall above it. he likes collecting rocks too. he’s a little freak!!  — he’s better at the memory retrieval part of his power than the rest. naturally, as this mostly applies for other people. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS. im literally so tired of hearing myself talk... 

friends/squad. self explanatory!!!  he’s friendly, a class clown, and a loyal friend through and through; he’s also adaptable, and his demeanor is very relaxed and inviting. he’s probably gonna have 2-3 people that he’s really close with, and he’d do quite literally anything for them. seriously, don’t tempt him.  a best friend.  so this is kind of vague but. i’d really love for him to have one person that is just a tier above the rest? they’d know things about him that are like pulling teeth to find out ( aka, anything deeper than his most recommended podcasts and loudmouth opinions on non important things ), someone who will call him on his shit, and maybe take care of his stupid little self when he gets too fucked up, because they’d be someone he trusts enough to let them.   enemies?    he probably gets along with most people until given a reason not to? but he is a loud mouth and if one of his friends gets into drama, he will stick his nose where it doesn’t belong and he will throw hands, so it could happen.

harmless rivalries. maybe even steamy ones. he’s a little shit and he likes banter so, so, so much? if given the opportunity and if someone rubs him a certain type of way, he’s so not above being a menace, although never super maliciously. just, you know, annoying the shit out of them on purpose, for fun. he’s also not above blowing a few kisses their way.

current hookups. self explanatory too. he’s a little harlot. HFBHVFNJ. it’s gonna be kinda hard to go beyond sex with him because he’s very deep in his own insecurity but he does catch feelings, he’s just mad about it when he does. i’m mostly gonna go off chem for that though! an ex. could be on friendly terms? but, it should be noted that he could’ve ghosted someone too; or pulled from the relationship when things got serious and he couldn’t choke out that ‘i love you’, even if he felt it. worse, if he did choke it out, but they didn’t feel the same way.  siblings. hypnos kids he is gonna be so protective of all of u... family is hard for axel, i’m ngl, but he really wants one is the tragedy of it all, i guess? so he just really wants to be a good brother. he thinks hypnos is kind of a dick for making him but he tries not to fault him for his existence. fuck u dad i dont wanna be alive feels a little unfair. HDBHFDSJ. anyways he’s a good brother even if he is absolutely so reckless and terrifying in regards to himself but his siblings. his siblings he will do anything for. ALSO!!! FOUND FAMILY!!!! it would be kinda nice if he bonded with someone a little older maybe, could be outside of the hypnos house even, someone he’s kind of a bratty-little-brother type with.... or bratty older brother that takes your things and makes you laugh, y’know. 

PERSONALITY.  just tacking this part of the app on at the end too to highlight parts that i think are important for understanding who he is, and just so it’s all in one place!

toothy grins, half-lidded eyes, and keepin’ them laughing is what it’s all about, baby. axel walks with more confidence in his posture than he’s earned ( or claimed, for that matter ), and it’s the backbone of what gets him by. he’s a glowing example of the fake it ‘til you make it mentality, and he knows what he wants, usually how to get it, and doesn’t mind letting you know that. there’s an ever present mischievous glint in his eyes that says more about what to expect from him than he does, and that’s still not much? he likes to have fun, and there isn’t a whole lot of regard for righteousness or responsibility on his end, but hey! it’s usually only ever at his own expense, so what’s the damage? he’s an absolute clown and he knows it.

axel loves people. he does — you might not guess that with how elusive he is, but it’s true. there’s nothing he likes more than a good conversation with someone interesting, or maybe not even then; if there’s a sparkle in you, he’ll see it. ( might even draw it, not that you’d ever know. ) he’s warm, loyal, compassionate, relaxed, and understanding; and none of that is at the cost of being passive, or lacking passion. 

as long as the vibes are right, he’s happy to just be; though, he’s known to have a fuse for certain provocations, and will jump readily at chance to fight in someone else’s honor. also, it’s not unlike him to spar for the sake of sparring; but that’s all in good fun, no worries.

there’s no way to sugarcoat it — axel has an inferiority complex. where that stems from is something he’s more self-aware of than he’s willing to admit, but he doesn’t have the patience or the will to dissect it; much less do anything about it, and he’s as bull-headed as they come — especially regarding anything related to the psyche. how much this impacts his demeanor and relationships with others varies on the situation, but one constant is that he’s going to retreat before things get bad; even if ‘things are getting bad’ exists only as his own paranoia-born hypothetical.

things can’t go bad if you don’t let them, and he’s content to keep it that way; even if it means being stuck in the stasis of missed opportunities. it’s when he’s retreating into himself that he can get irritable, anxious, jumpy; secretive, defensive, even. he’s personable until he isn’t, essentially.

[the-mic-drop]

Class 1-A Cypher by Rustage

Lyrics below the cut

Izuku Midoriya - Deku (Performed by Rustage)

Call me Deku, I’m starting out on this cypher

I was quirkless, but by working I’m deserving something higher

It’s my purpose, I’m versing my present, future, and my past

So I’m gonna rock the mic with a Detroit Smash

Taking a second, I’m breaking my limit

Hitting with everything, pain I can feel it

I’m straining my muscles, I tussle with enemies

Better be ready, I’m more than a critic

I spit it, exhibit it all night

I’m killing it, chilling with All-Might

A villain inhibited by my ability

in minutes you’re watching my school fight

Fumikage Tokoyami - Tsukuyomi (Performed by Shwabadi)

When you cross this bird, you might get to see me wield the talons

So absurd how I’m applying subverse talents

Yes I’m cursed, carry a demon, I’m full of malice

Even worse for you when striking a bitter balance

Dark claws harming the vermin that are below me

Start wars, armed with determination and Oni

Get back, I’ve been endangering those who know me

Jet Black Hero, they’re calling me Tsukuyomi

Ochaco Uraraka - Uravity (Performed by DaisyBanaisy)

I’ll make you float as I’m messing with zero gravity

Don’t mean to gloat when I’m calculating these strategies

Rapidly climbing casually, my quirk “lacks in lethality”

but actually your apathy will lead straight to your casualty

I’ll happily fight for justice, with all of my capacity

My motive’s money, thankfully that don’t define morality

Reality is I’m just helping others for my family

I’m saving all humanity, don’t you mess with Uravity!

Tenya Iida - Ingenium (Performed by Dan Bull)

I’ve got many a twitch, that’s the Tenya itch

I’m like my test scores, I got plenty of tics

Academic, educated, but I never skip leg day

Still regretful of the day that I met Stain

Enraged, by what he did to my brother Tensei

I didn’t handle it the best way, I dare say

Left my hand damaged in remembrance of fair play

I’m representing Class 1-A, they’re my best mates

Tsuyu Asui - Froppy (Performed by Sophia Dere)

Ribbit Ribbit, exhibit a hero’s spirit

I’m in it and so I’ll win it

When I’m swimming, yeah I won’t stop

This frog’s idyllic not a gimmick in a minute

I be launching in to kill it

Like a frog, I’m bringing mad hops

My tongue’s deadly, spitting and I take charge

and then I’m turning invisible with my camoflage

In the water, no villain can dare to stop me

You’re looking sloppy, now you’re facing Froppy

Hanta Sero - Cellophane (Performed by VideoGameRapBattles)

Lucky 13 of the A-1 team

Kid I spit great mixtapes, stick your team

Wraps so clean,

and I’m sealing all the matches now that Cellophane will bring the pain all wrapped up in a package

Getting shipped with tons of damage, but there’s no send backs

Shut you up with my bind attacks

Get back, ‘cause you know that I’ll be winning

in this sticky situation, so I think you better stick it.

Mezo Shoji - Tentacole (Performed by Dreaded Yasuke)

You can call me wall that have ears, door that have eyes

Meaning I’m cavalier when it comes to fighting just like a spy

In close combat, my dupli-arms is coming for the harm

and I’m laughing at you if you’re trying disarm

I’ll sacrifice for everybody exhausting my quirk

Even when I’m down for the count, I’m disguising my smirk

You can cut off all of my limbs, I’m still coming in a burst

Class 1-A will always come first

Kyoka Jiro - Earphone Jack (Performed by Savvy Hyuga)

It’s ya edgy girl, Earphone Jack

Utilizing my quirk in both stealth and combat

I guess I can see how you think I fell flat

but lemme show you how I make up for that

with punk rock attacks

When my earlobes are growing

you know they whippin and probin

an’ now they got you tip-toeing

findin the range that my tone is

It’s not your typical motion n my moves don’t need compression

It’s just another jam session featuring my form of expression

Denki Kaminari - Chargebolt (Performed by Dizzy Eight)

It’s time to put in work, I got this cypher on lock

I don’t need my quirk when this verse will leave you shocked

Like a battery, I got the juice, so they put me in a box

When my positive means negative, I’m like “so watt?”

You don’t want that static with me homie it’s fatal

I got so much energy, I’m plugged in without the cable

On the low, I’ll leave everybody on the scene disabled

I’m underrated, but in a flash, I’ll leave you endangered

Shoto Todoroki - Shoto (Performed by None Like Joshua)

It’s Todoroki, I chose to be cold and lonely

Nobody can hold me with the inferno, I’m overloading

From a broken home to known hero I’m going up slowly but surely

and be better than Endeavor whether it’s hot or it’s snowing

Even if I’m behind, I’ll be sure to make Bakugo see

I do it for All of his Might or to stop killer Stain, forget any trophy

So now that you’re immobilized and then frozen in pain, no one can approach me

Put up a wall of my ice or a wall of my flames to build your enclosing

Rikido Sato - Sugarman (Performed by GameboyJones)

Give me 10 grams of white, then I’m activated (um)

Wait, I’m talking ‘bout the sugar that I took

Got a sweet tooth for taking out these villains ‘cause they’re agitating

Plus the girlies like a guy that can cook

Call me Sato the Macho, I’m saving these streets

Yeah these nachos are not yours, I need me a treat

and this crime fighting’s hard work, it can leave me beat

but like candy and cakes, being me is real sweet

Mina Ashido - Pinky (Performed by StarGirl)

The corrosive caped crusader, Pinky here to save the day

and end up taking center stage upon these lyrics that I lay up

Easygoing, I’m passionate in battle, I’m not passive

See it flowing I don’t spit fire, I spit acid

Hypnotic fashion sense, I leave you in a trance

I’m good at fighting, my other skills are in dance

Protect my friends, we’re going in on advance

Mina Ashido, you don’t even stand a chance

Eijiro Kirishima - Red Riot (Performed by NerdOut)

Kirishima’s here, everybody stand down

I’mma activate a quirk and give your chest a hand pound

With these Red Gun Turrets yeah the target is locked

I’m a boulder with a boner, man I’m hard as a rock

I’m unbreakable, cannot penetrate this armor

and I don’t need a little blue pill to get harder

I’m full of energy, enemies looking dead tired

Blood running in the street, you can call it Red Riot

Koji Koda - Anima (Performed by Connor Rapper)

I’m the quiet type, lying with the wildlife

When I’m on, you wouldn’t even need subtitle lines

Nervous around others, I’m the last one who would yell loud

But to be a hero, then I need to break the shell now

Yo it’s Koda bringing massive noise, flowing with that Ani-Voice

That timid kid with rabbit toys no longer acting coy

Drinking honey tea, facing my fear of bugs and bees

Get a bull stampeding with the words like I’m Douglby

Yuga Aoyama - Can’t Stop Twinkling (Performed by Zach Boucher)

Never needed fame or money, I can get it later

Even though it hurts my tummy, when I use my navel laser

I have got finesse, snazzier than all the rest

I’m the best, nothing less

being honest, not a flex, I’m a threat

It’s getting harder to stomach, I’ve got the smarts and I love

I’m certainly perfect, it hurts just like the art of seduction

Heart of a Puma, get ready to lose

I’ll be spreading the truth

and y’all are stupid if you choose to fight against the Yuga

Momo Yaoyorozu - Creati (Performed by HalaCG)

I’ve got the quirk creation and patience to work it

Balancing equations, don’t even need to research it

Sequencing elements, a testament to intelligence

You’d better watch out ‘cause I’m not feeling very benevolent

If a person’s in trouble, just wait and see what I’ll do

I can literally make anything. Overpowered, who?

Overpowered, who?

I meant I’ll overpower you

It’s true, sincerely Class 1-A’s Momo Yaoyorozu

Minoru Mineta - Grape Juice (Performed by Nux Taku)

Where the ladies at? (ay)

Where the ladies at? (ay)

Mineta’s here to peek at women that I’m gazing at

People thinking that I’m weak, but you know what I say to that

Leave you in a sticky situation with my grape attacks

Underestimating me? You’re lacking information

Incapacitation, when you’re facing me, frustration

Master of flirtation, pretty much the top dog

You ain’t ever coming close when I pop off

Ojiro Mashirao - Tailman (Performed by Rockit Gaming)

Ojiro, the Tailman, you get what you train for

Master martial artist, black belt on my waist though

Nobody even really understands me

Got intelligence, can’t predict any hit that I’m landing

Classmate you confide in with dignity

You can wear a costume, all I got on is a gi

Noble attitude, that’s my personality

Accept results that I earn with my own abilities

Toru Hagakure - Invisible Girl (Performed by Outcast Rae)

Take you by surprise, yeah, I can do it easy

Miss me with your eyes, yeah, you can’t even see me

No matter what you try, yeah, you can never beat me

Feels a little cheesy, like a wish from a genie

When it comes to action, my quirk is in light refraction

so it has the side effect of never being a distraction

Sneak up on my enemies, let me be the best assassin

Toru Hagakure, you can feel my passion

Katsuki Bakugo - Kacchan (Performed by DaddyPhatSnaps)

I don’t think you other heroes are even listenin’

Maybe I should focus your attention with some ‘glycerin

You don’t even get it, there’s really no competition

I’m lighting these rookies up, boi, I’m slaying on every mission

I’ll show them once and for all, little Deku won’t know what hit ‘im

I will get the recognition, exploding the opposition

I will be the greatest hero that ever took the position

So come at me little bitches, I’ll make you wish that you didn’t

[ramblinganthropologist]

N7 Challenge 12 and 13 (Green and Militay)

Summary: What do you do when a lolita is being targeted? Apparently, the answer is make Commander Shepard crossdress. Fun fact, you can’t fit armor under a petticoat. The vids lied.

---

“Commander Shepard, are you in position yet? You should be getting close soon.

Honestly, Alistair wasn't sure how he got himself in these sorts of positions as he edged closer to what was probably the most unenjoyable mission he had ever been on. Well, he understood why people asked him to help prevent trouble; he was good at that sort of thing and had a track record for being a boy scout anyway.

He just didn't understand why he had to do it in a fucking dress... and why the hell was it mint green? He hated green.

---

“Do you ever read your fucking email? There was like a million in there.”

“Why are you even reading my email anyway? Don't you have something else to do?”

Dumb question, of course Bo read his email when he wasn't looking. Snooping was part of being a little sister. However, Alistair was still not too sure if it was part of the duties of being his XO. That all but convinced him she needed a favor and he wasn't going to like it.

Bo at the moment was at his door, looking as though this was important. However, if she was the one introducing the matter, then it couldn't involve the Alliance. That should tell him he should say no... but he would be a terrible CO if he ignored it.

Talk about a rock and a hard place...

At least she didn't completely bowl past him as she entered the room and sat at his desk  He had been a little busy making sure Saren was well situated, but so be it. Technically, it was her job as XO to bring up important matters.

“Yeah, like make sure a very good friend of mine doesn't die.” She tapped a few details. “Alright, you can go ahead. He's in the room.”

Yes, because it was his room. Why did he get the feeling this was going to be a nightmare?

A face appeared on the screen of his computer, prompting Alistair to step away from Saren's cage and close the lid. He dusted off his hands as he watched someone steady themselves. Then he briefly glanced over at Bo to make sure he wasn't being punked. Based on her body language, that was still a possibility.

“My thanks for being our go-between.” The person on screen was wearing... well... he wasn't sure. He wanted to say it was a dress, but the rest of the ensemble made his brain think otherwise. Then again, he wasn't exactly known for being up on fashion anyone, so maybe he ought to close his damn mouth. “Commander Shepard, I don't doubt you're wondering what's going on.”

Yes.

“Things have quieted down since you, Bo, and Archangel took out the trash on Omega. However, there are still some malcontents that make things difficult.”

He was using way too much energy keeping his eyebrows from leaving his face. “I don't doubt that. Is everything alright...”

He trailed off. “I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch your name.”

She smiled. “Bo did say you were polite, but she didn't mention what a gentleman you were. My name is Alice.”

Of course her name was Alice. Why wouldn't someone dressed like a living cake not be named Alice? But there was something about how thick she was laying it on that unfortunately activated his gender euphoria.

“Alice, then. You can call me Alistair for now.” He nodded his head. “You mentioned malcontents. Are we dealing with Blood Pack, Eclipse, Blue Suns, or some new outfit?”

She sighed, and again, laying it on a bit thick. “I'm afraid it's the Blue Suns. My father was at one point involved with them, and he racked up quite a bit of debt. I would rather he handle them himself, but they've set their sights on me. A friend of mine mentioned they would be by, and I worried for my safety. You know how they are, Alistair.”

Yes, Garrus' face was proof of that.

“Bo mentioned you were one of the Alliance's best defense biotics before the two of you became Spectres. If anyone can stop them, it's you.”

Ok, he knew when he was being buttered up. Any more, and he feared he might start sliding around the room. Whatever she needed, it was going to require something he definitely didn't want to do. That's why he shot Bo a blank look as she tried not too look too innocent.

“I can understand that, but why come to me like this? All you had to do was ask.”

She definitely looked a little nervous. “Well... there has been word one of their men will be around next week's circle. If someone were to take my place, with your abilities... I wouldn't be worried about them getting hurt.”

Alistair's eyebrows definitely left his face that time as he lost it. “Wait, are you suggesting...”

He look from Alice to Bo, and then back again. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck as reality set in as he put the pieces together for what they both wanted. No wonder they had been trying so hard to get him to say yes.

There was no way in hell.

Bo cut in before he could say no. “You're the only one who can pull this off, Al...”

“And why the hell is that?”

“You're the only one who can fit into the dress we have, Alice is your size and you both weigh about the same. Once you're in, they're not going to notice the difference. It'll only be a couple hours!”

He made a gesture towards himself. “I know I don't look like much, but I have a little more muscle than your friend here.”

After all, he was a space marine... they did go through boot camp after all. He might not be as strong as Bo, but he could do more than few push-ups without embarrassing himself. Sure, he was lean muscle... but it was still muscle!

“Don't worry, the petticoat and blouse can cover any of your muscular up. Add in the wig and makeup and I doubt your own crew would even recognize you.” Alice sounded almost amused. “Bo knows what to do.”

Oh, great...

Alistair scowled as he shook his head. “I'm not doing it. Get somebody else.”

“Nobody else in the Normandy can fit in the dress. You're the perfect size and weight, and you're biotic.” Bo was ticking reasons off her fingers. “And if you do it, I'll make sure you only have shifts with Garrus.”

…

Technically, as CO he could do that himself. But it wouldn't look good if he did. If someone else...

Fuck.

The Spectre grimaced as he ran a hand over his hair. “What kind of dress is it?”

Alice sighed in relief on screen. “I have just the coord for you. It's one of my first, but it's still in style. Bo, you know what to do!”

Oh, he was going to regret this...

---

“Hey, you look good as a brunette.”

“Shut the fuck up, Joker.”

Alistair's face was burning as he waited in the airlock to be let out into Omega. They had docked in a side area so nobody saw him walk out of the Normandy. After all, he was supposed to be undercover. Walking in with a Spectre ship was just asking for trouble.

So was what he was wearing...

“Relax, you're going to wrinkle it.” Bo was next to him, smoothing the skirt over the petticoat. “Just remember what we told you.”

He shot her a look as he resisted the urge to run screaming. “Don't worry, I spent 4 years pretending to be a girl. I'm an expert at it.”

Only... he had never worn anything like this. The skirt and shirt he was wearing were light green and brown, reminding him of mint chocolate chip ice cream only not tasting like toothpaste. There was too much lace and detail for his taste, but at least it wasn't a miniskirt. Even better, no heels. He would've died if they were heels.

And... well the shoes made him a little taller.

“You got this, Commander.” Joker was enjoying this way too much as Alistair adjusted the wig – brown, way too long and curly with a bow in it - “you got your gear?”

He shot the helmsman another look as he pulled his red Striker pistol out of the purse Bo had given him. “I've got spare clips in the purse.”

Unfortunately, no hard armor though. He had tried to fit a few pieces in under the skirt, but it had 'ruined the silhouette' or something like that. So he was mostly relying on his biotics and the shield he had built into his omni-tool. He was still wearing that, only it had been cute-fied with a new band to disguise it.

Luckily, he had disabled all photo taking capabilities on the Normandy before coming out. No way this was winding up in a tabloid.

Bo nodded as she made one final adjustment. “You got this.”

“I got something alright.” The airlock dinged, signaling he could leave. “Well... here goes nothing.”

And then he was on his own, walking down the plank with careful steps. At least this part of the docks was abandoned. Still, he sighed as he adjusted his gait to fit the skirt he was wearing. Something about petticoats rubbed him the wrong way...

Fuck. He was going to suck.

---

“We've been looking for you, Alice. You're a tough girl to find.”

Great... at least he didn't need to look too hard.

Alistair felt the sweat drip down the back of his neck as he felt the bricks dig into his back. There were two mercs in front of him, both wearing Blue Sun armor. They were grinning, and there was nothing fun about it. Not only that, they were packing heat – heavy pistols and rifles on their backs. Both were serious artillery.

And he... had a pistol in his purse.

He cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound higher. “I have no idea who either of you two are.”

“Don't play cute.” The bigger one got closer. He smelled like stale booze, but it wasn't strong enough to make his eyes water. “We told you if you came around here there'd be trouble.”

Ah, nobody told him about that. He was going to need to chat with Alice about that later once these two were either dead or unconscious. Right then, he was leaning to the former as he tried to keep his calm around the two.

“Must be hard to run in skirts like that... maybe we should test it?” The smaller one was starting to unholster his gun – it wasn't quite heated up yet. “We'll give you to the count of three and maybe we won't shoot you too much.”

Ah, so they weren't going to torture him. Alice really fucked up. Luckily for her, she was somewhere else entirely. Him, not so much.

“Are you really going to shoot an unarmed woman?” He gripped his borrowed purse tighter. “What kind of men are you?”

Shitty Blue Suns, that's what. Why hadn't Garrus shot these two in the bridge assault?

The big one chuckled. “Pissed off ones owed a lot of money.”

Well, unlucky for them that his brain was his strongest weapon. Alistair hadn't wanted to do this, but if they were going to start shooting... well he wasn't about to let Alice's skirt get dirty. So it was time to get down to business.

“I'm going to give you both the chance to back down and leave me alone.”

They both laughed, but of course they did. After all, he was wearing a frilly dress and platform shoes. It wasn't like they could realize what the look in his eyes meant, or know that when he clenched his fist around the purse strap it was his trigger gesture. At least they figured it out when they both started hovering off the ground.

It wasn't his flashiest ability, but it got the job done.

“What the fuck?” The little one tried to grab for the ground, but he held him higher. “Shit, I can't get down!”

The big one tried to reach for his gun, but it floated out of his grasp and landed at Alistair's feet. The biotic instead reached into his purse and pulled out his Striker. A few seconds, and it was humming with a round.

“Now then... are we going to listen?”

They both paled as he checked the safety. “You are going to tell me who is bothering Alice. Then you're going to turn yourself in. Do we understand?”

He didn't get an answer, so the Spectre clicked the safety off. The ready meter was bright green now, indicating how many shots he had. The number was full, with more than enough to put the two of them down permanently. If he somehow missed 72 times, he had more rounds in his borrowed purse.

But he needed to save those for round two.

“Y-you're not Alice... who the fuck are you?”

He shot them a blank look. “A friend. Now, talk. I'm not going to ask a second time.”

Mostly because they were both fucking heavy and it was hard to focus with the quasi-corset he was wearing. Besides, anymore and someone might come around and see someone in a dress holding two mercs at their mercy. That would be bad for the Blue Suns, and his targets would be dead before he got the promise out of them.

He kind of needed that.

The big one had given up trying to reach the ground. “And if we don't?”

Alistair raised the pistol. “I have a pretty good rating for heavy pistols. Not the best, but I didn't fail. Do you want to see my training in action?”

Well, he hadn't failed at the very least... but it wasn't like he had aced the tests either. He'd never be an Archangel, but... he did alright. Definitely good enough to shoot someone at close quarters like that. Hopefully they didn't make him use it.

“I don't think she's kidding...” The little one looked as though he was about to piss himself. “I-It's our boss. His name's Gern. Big dude with a missing eye. Can't miss him!”

Excellent. He would know who to aim for.

The big one glared at his partner. “You idiot, he'll kill us both!”

“She'll kill us now if we don't!”

Well, actually Alistair had no plans to shoot anybody. When it came down to it, he wasn't fond of shooting fish in a barrel. More than that, he didn't want to get the dress dirty. After all, he had to give it back after. But for the moment, they could think what they wanted.

As long as they didn't piss themselves. Gross.

His favorite snitch was shivering now. “C-come on... let us go so we can start running. Gern's fucked up, a real hardass since Archangel cleared us out...”

“He sounds terrible. We'll have to have a talk after you two promise to leave Alice alone.” He aimed again. “Well?”

The quick promises came in a waterfall. It was like music to his ears as he stood there, waiting. Inwardly, Alistair sighed in relief as he clicked the safety back on. 72 was still glowing, reminding him what he had left.

Shit, that was close.

“Thank you gentlemen, pleasure doing business with you.” They both fell to the floor with a heavy thud as he returned the gun to his borrowed purse. “Well, get going then. I think there's a secondhand shop you can dump your armor in, should be enough to book passage off Omega if you're quick about it and ask the right price.”

In a flash, the goons were gone and off to start a new life. Alistair shook his head as he started tapping into his omni-tool. Now he had a name to go on. Lucky for him, Omega had really shitty data security and within minutes he had some details.

Now... time to go hunting. Hopefully Gern didn't run too fast. It was murder walking in these shoes, even if they were cute.

[mozarellarellarella123-blog]

El amor esta aqui

By mozarellarellarella123

@shalilyweek

Writers Note:

Hello everyone!!! I’m fairly new to this community and I’m glad to be a part of it! By the way, the title (El amor esta aqui) translates to “love is here” from Spanish to English. (Not accurately) Anyway, before you read, I’d like to thank @indayiashow for helping and inspiring me to be a part of this community and to write fan-fics like this! Another note, this is actually my first fan fiction (So naturally it’s gonna be terrible) so please tell me what you think because even if you say something like: “This was terrible and never do this again”, I’d rather have that then a comment that lies to me about my work. So please leave criticism down below!!! 😊 Anyway, lets get to the story!

Fandom: Fairy Tail | Characters: (Human) Shagotte X Pantherlily | Word Count: 2,208 | Age: 13+ (Includes bad words and fluff)

Heavy and shining lightning strook the sky from the rain-filled heavy clouds above as rain wet the land like a cold shower and hit Lily’s umbrella, making a pitter-patter sound as hail hit Lily’s head like a hard rock being thrown at him. Lily was shivering cold and sidestepping along the wet pavement. He was wearing some green and purple nike trainers, a soaked shirt and tie, some drenched blue jeans and a smart top hat which was also wet. The street lamp illuminated Lily’s smile. He had finally arrived.

But where did lily arrive? Why was he in the rain and how did he find himself into this situation? It all started in Lily’s house. It was your regular, average day and lily was relaxing in his house.

He was watching a movie with the fire on, some marshmallows and a soft, woollen blanket. He heard a knock and paused the film to answer the door. “Hello-“ Lily was in shock. It was none other then his old friend Gajeel Redfox.

“What’s up punk?” Gajeel Laughed histerically while smiling cheekily. “Gajeel! It’s been a while hasn’t it?!” Lily exclaimed a little too loudly. “...”. An awkward silence occurred as the two stopped looking at each other and started to twiddle their thumbs or look the other way.

Finally, Gajeel broke the silence in a heartwarming and honest way. “Look lily, I’m sorry for what I did...” He softly said as he started to make eye contact with lily again. “I’m sorry too.....” Lily muttered awkwardly while looking down and fiddling with his fingers.

“To make it up to you, I want you to come to a party I’m hostin’. How does that sound huh?” Gajeel explained bravely. A smile spread across Lily’s face. “I would love to.” He replied with a bright smile and shaking Gajeel’s hand.

Lily would’ve brang a coat and a pair of boots if he knew it would rain this hard. He brought out an umbrella but the heavy drops of rain and the intense, strong and superior wind blew the umbrella away, leaving lily exposed to the lightning and hail.

This would’ve been a lot easier if he went to the party by car, so then he could avoid the rain and get there in a jiffy. Unfortunately for him, he couldn’t afford a car; he couldn’t even afford most things. He wasn’t the richest person in the world but he definitely had the looks.

He would’ve entered the party in style if his whole outfit wasn’t soaked to the core. Once he arrived, he knocked the door and rang the doorbell. He shivered intensely while waiting for someone to let him in. After 5 minutes had passed, lily knocked again and at last, Gajeel answered the door. He just opened the door and walked away, not even welcoming lily into his house. This was why they fell out in the first place, Gajeel being a dick.

Once he walked in, he was blinded by a disco ball, colourful lights and massive fog machines. He had to close his eyes and shove his way past everyone into the bathroom. Once he was in there, he used a towel to dry himself off and make sure he looked smart. He fixed his tie and did his collar until he looked fairly presentable. (Well at least, as presentable as you can look when you have been walking in the harsh rain for 20 minutes)

The lights weren’t blinding him when he walked out of the bathroom so he decided to take this chance to look around. There was a disco area, a karaoke/stage area,(Where Gajeel was) a snack area and a gaming area.

This area particularly peaked Lily’s interest as he was indeed a gamer. When he is off work, he usually games for 2-3 hours before going to bed. He absolutely loved gaming. Gaming was his soul. Gaming kept him alive. Gaming was his true passion and he wouldn’t give it up for absolutely anything.

He walked over to that area faster then a cat chasing a mouse and soon found himself in the middle of three sections. These sections were: The Video Game area, (Where people played video games) The board Game area, (Where people played board games) and finally, The card area, where you can imagine what they play there. He swiftly approached the video game area.

Lily sat down next to a person who had won matches 5 times in a row with complete perfection and accuracy. “So, you just arrived?” She asked menacingly while giving lily a dirty look through her black sunglasses.

She was an absolute badass. Lily gulped. He obviously picked a fight with someone way above his competition. But, he was prepared. He was ready. He turned around and what he saw was absolutely mind blowing.

It was a women with beautiful white hair that flowed down her body like a river, some beautiful jewellery that you could see your own reflection in and a beautiful dress that complimented her entire body. Lily had never seen someone so beautiful in his entire life. In fact, he has never actually felt love until now.

His heart rate went from 60 to a clean 120 in nothing short of a millisecond. “Ahem?!” She scowled intimidatingly. Lily had completely forgotten about her question because of this girl.

His mouth was watering and his senses were tingling. He quickly remembered what the women had asked him and answered as quickly as he could. “Y-y-yeah...” He awkwardly stumbled out.

She didn’t say a word after that and just started the match. They were playing smash bros and Lily loved to play as mewtwo. That was his favoutite character. The terrifying and mysterious women played as Mario, simple but complicated.

Lily turned around to see the girl watching him play. He must not lose. Or else that may lead to massive embarrassment. He had to win. It was the only way. His heart rate shot up again and he could literally feel his heart pounding out of his chest.

This match decided his fate.

The match had started. 3, 2, 1, GO!!! Lily immediately attacked his neural special which fired a shadow ball. She immediately parried it with a perfect shield. Lily was in shock.

Her instincts and reflexes were on a whole new level. A lever way higher than Lily’s playing level. She saw her advantage and immediately attacked back with 3 fireballs.

Lily didn’t have the reflexes to dodge or parry it in time, so he ended up taking the hit. 12% damage. Lily got annoyed and immediately used his side smash. This sent Mario flying and now all lily had to do was to stop her from getting back onto the stage.

On the edge, lily ceased his opportunity and used his down special, disable. This let her off the platform completely and she went flying into the distance. She had an agitated look on her face. A look of rivalry and revenge.

She was absolutely pissed. Lily gulped again. He just had to survive one more minute more until the time ran out. But there was a thin chance of him surviving her wrath.

When she respawned, she immediately started throwing punches, none of which lily could dodge. She kept on going until her final smash meter was charged up. This was bad news.

She was gonna finish him off with one last final sweep. It was called fireball finale. This was the attack that was gonna send lily flying off stage. Lily immediately started to jump around because if she missed then her chance of using it would be over. But she wasted absolutely no time in using it. There it was.

Fireball Finale.

The move that sent lily flying off stage. GAME!!! The match had ended. They both had one kill on each other. A tie. Which means this could only be settled in sudden death.

Sudden death was a finale move that ended everything off. Lily was so scared. More scared then he has ever been is his entire life. He looked at the mysterious women. Her face told of winning and determination. Lily’s face told of the opposite. SUDDEN DEATH!!! GO!!!!!

This was now or never. Lily immediately used disable, which stunned her and gave lily one last chance. One last chance to attack. The stage was filling with fire and he had finite time. He made his final attack and it finished her off. GAME!!!

She obviously was annoyed but you could literally see the red on her face. After all of Lily’s hard gaming and training, he had broken her winning streak. She immediately left annoyed and frustrated with herself.

The beautiful girl went over to him and happily said: “That was amazing!!! You did great!” Lily smiled joyously. He was victorious. “Thank you but it was nothing really...” He mumbled overconfidently.

“What’s your name?” She asked curiously. “Pantherlily. But you can call me lily.” Lily told her. “Shagotte is mine. But you can call me anything you want!” She explained excitedly. “Shagotte is just fine for me.” He replied.

This made her blush and put a massive smile on her face. They both shared a glance at each other. A glance that spoke to them saying: “Love has finally arrived. Love is here.”

They walked to the dance floor holding each other’s hands. Lily did the gentlemanly thing and asked: “May I have this dance?” Shagotte straight away started to dance with him. Kisses and hugs were exchanged and that night was one of Lily’s best nights in his entire life.

Lily couldn’t sleep that night. His thoughts had filled up with love and romance and dance like a whole new world had been opened up to him. He finally fell asleep and dreamed about Shagotte. Getting married, having kids and overall living a good life. When he woke up he cried and wished that dreams could be brought to life.

He wondered why he was so addicted. Why was he so drawn to Shagotte like a magnet? He pulled himself together and got out of bed. He put a vest and some underwear on, and shortly head downstairs for a nice bowl of cereal.

After that, he started to clean frantically. He wouldn’t normally clean but he knew that Shagotte was coming over to his house for the day, and he needed to clean. Sure his house wasn’t very “grand” or “stylish” but inviting her over would put him closer to bringing that dream to real life just like he wished.

Once he finished cleaning, he put some clothes on, used deodorant and brushed his teeth until they were sparkling clean like a diamond being polished with a cloth. He heard the doorbell ring and got excited. He rushed downstairs and took deep breaths, trying to hide his everlasting excitement for her, and finally opened the door.

“Hello!!! Come in and make yourself at home!” Lily welcomed kindly. She smiled at the warm opening and sat on the couch. “Would you like some tea or coffee?” He asked, trying to be as polite as possible.

“Coffee please! And can I have 2 sugars and milk in it as well?” She questioned while also trying to hide her excitement for him. “Coffee with milk and two sugars coming right up!!!” He exclaimed. Shagotte turned on the tv and enjoyed herself.

Once lily made two coffees, they both sat down and started a conversation. “So, how has life been treating you?” Lily asked, trying to start up a conversation. “It’s been okay I guess... It’s just that...” Shagotte muttered sadly. “I’ve been really lonely lately...”

“Yeah me too. I understand.” He said awkwardly. “I’ve been struggling for money and working at this job I hate.” She stuttered while taking a small sip of her coffee. “I’m also struggling with money and a job to find.” Lily replied.

“I have no friends, no job and no money.” She stated in a depressed tone. It was like they were in the same boat. Lily also didn’t have these things and was in a state of sadness. He decided to cheer her up.

“That’s a lie. You have one friend. And that friend is me.” He declared heartwarmingly. Lily could see the tears in her eyes. “Oh lily-“ She cried as she gave him a massive hug and a kiss.

Lily saw an opportunity and whispered in her ear: “I love you.” These three words made Shagotte burst into even more tears; tears of happiness and pure joy.

“I love you too... lily...” She sniffled while tightening her hug even more. “I absolutely hate my house. I live in a cramped flat that only has one room in it.” Lily started to feel bad because he thought that his house was bad.

“So please!!! PLEASE!!! Can I live here?!” She wailed loudly, letting all of her feelings out. “Yes. Of course you can.” Lily smiled rapidly. This resulted in even more tears and love.

The next day they became boyfriend and girlfriend. Lily had found his hope. His light at the end of the dark tunnel. His happiness. Happiness that he had been searching for but could never find. The happiness that led to a bright and joy-filled future.

-mozarellarellarella123

[leisurelypanda]

A Moment’s Bliss

(a What Happens in Asgard one shot)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18794410

Four months. It had been four months since Bucky gave birth to his twins. It had been the busiest, most exhausting times of his life, since then. He had thought that retiring from hero work would mean his life would free up a bit. As it turned out, however, it just meant that he had just enough time to take care of his babies. Rebecca and Joey were beautiful and wonderful, but God, they required a lot of care and attention. Bucky was happy to give it to them, but he was getting tired.

According to May Parker, raising kids was one long case of being tired. Apparently being a super soldier didn’t make him immune to that.

On top of all that, he and Steve had spent the first couple months looking for a place to live away from the Tower. Sirens going off at all hours signaling distress in need of taking care of wasn’t good for the babies. After the first couple times it happened, they were able to get the signal disabled on their floor since they weren’t active duty.

They had looked at a number of places in Brooklyn, which was way more expensive than either of them remembered. That was everything, though. Thankfully, Stark had been paying them handsomely the past few years, so it wasn’t as though they were penniless. It was still somewhat flabbergasting to look at some of the prices, though.

They finally found a house that actually not that bad, price wise. It was large, spacious, and beautifully modern without Tony’s unfortunate minimalist tendencies and oblong structure. The outside had light grey paneling and the inside had gorgeous amber colored hardwood floors, and cream/beige colored tiles in the kitchen.

The living room was round with a massive window which gave them a beautiful view of the front yard, more windows beneath that with a door that led to the wrap around porch, and a stone mantle with a fireplace (a real one, not the cutesy fake kind). Overlooking the room was a balcony that led to the bedrooms.

His favorite part of the house, though, was the master bath. The bathtub was huge, and it easily fit both Steve and Bucky comfortably. More often, though, Bucky let himself take advantage of it, letting himself fully submerge and luxuriate in the hot water. Peter had gifted him with a small collection of bath bombs and Bucky had to admit, they were his new favorite thing.

Now, four and a half months after his babies were born, the four of them were moved in. The sellers were only too happy to sell to the former Captain America. The house was bigger than either of them knew what to do with, but with the help of an interior decorator, they had managed to furnish and decorate the house in a way that was practical, comfortable, and pleasing to the eye.

His reverie was broken by the sound of babies crying. He sighed, but got up from the couch. Bucky went up the stairs and turned the corner to the nursery. Steve held little Joey in his arms in the rocking chair, while Becca was still crying in the crib. She sounded hungry and Bucky picked her up with a gentle coo and let her latch onto a nipple. He sat down in the other rocking chair next to Steve and relaxed. Joey was drinking from one of the bottles they had, since Bucky produced a lot of milk. He blamed the serum, as usual.

“They’re getting so big,” Steve murmured. Bucky hummed in agreement. They were big for their age, according to Dr. Cho. Becca had been nearly 7 pounds, while Joey had been closer to six, but now, they were 18 and 16 pounds respectively. That Becca was consistently bigger than Joey was interesting, but Dr. Cho insisted that there was nothing to worry about.

“I know it’s pointless to say this, but I wish they’d stay small,” Bucky said.

“Me, too,” Steve chuckled. He stroked Joey’s cheek with a finger, a soft, loving smile on his face. It was so bright it made Bucky’s heart melt. “They’re so cute.”

Bucky smiled and looked down at their daughter. She had a mop of wispy brown hair, as opposed to the blond hair on Joey’s head. He stroked her cheek lovingly as she drank, her blue eyes wide and bright. He smiled and she smiled back around his nipple. Or she tried to. She grinned up at him with milk dripping down her chin.

“Baphhhha!” she babbled.

“Made a mess, little miss,” Bucky said with a chuckle. He took a soft towel and gently wiped up the mess. She babbled again and grabbed his finger. “Aww, you wanna play, Becca?”

He got up and grabbed her favorite toy: a set of plastic keys. He sat on the floor and set her down on her stomach. She propped herself up and looked at him with a wide, gummy smile as he rattled the toy. She babbled happily and reached for them. Bucky gave them to her and she shook them and laughed at the sound they made.

Joey started babbling too and Steve got on the floor with them. He set their son down and handed him a bright, blue and yellow elephant toy. It was Joey’s favorite. He tended to like soft toys and he often smiled and babbled at them while Becca preferred toys that made interesting sounds. It was so weird and fascinating to Bucky, how they could be twins, but so different.

Still, despite that, they still played together. Bucky loved watching them babble and play, like they understood each other already. Every now and then they would catch him watching and smile at him and Bucky would smile back and play with them for a bit.

Becca moved towards Bucky with a little difficulty. She hadn’t quite figured out crawling yet, so Bucky picked her up and placed her in his lap. She laughed and slapped her keys against his metal arm. She laughed as she did it again, smiling and laughing brightly as the keys clanged against his metal arm.

“She loves it,” Bucky said with a mix of bewilderment and fondness.

“Course she does,” Steve said. “It’s yours. You’re her Papa.”

Bucky smiled at that and looked down at their daughter. She reached a hand out to wrap around one of his metal fingers, her eyes full of curiosity and wonder. It was beautiful.

“I love them,” Bucky murmured. “God, I love them so much.”

“Gppphhh!” Joey replied. Steve chuckled and blew a raspberry at him. Joey smiled and laughed and Steve smiled down at him before he kissed the top of his head.

“I love them, too.”

Mother’s Day was somewhat strange. Bucky didn’t think of himself as a mother, like some other male omegas. He simply thought of himself a man who could get pregnant and give birth. At the same time, this was the first parent holiday when he’d actually been a parent and he was at something of a loss for what to do.

Steve was up to something, he knew that much. He wasn’t avoiding Bucky, but at the same time, he was oddly… circumspect about the subject for what to do on Mother’s Day. Bucky proposed that they simply use the day to celebrate parenthood. Steve had agreed, but that was it. The man with a plan… didn’t have one. At least, not that he’d told Bucky.

When Bucky emerged from the bedroom that morning, the house was strangely quiet. He crept downstairs, eager to not wake the twins if he didn’t have to. Quiet was hard to come by these days and Bucky found he craved the moments when the house was still and the twins were sleeping.

Who knew babies could be so exhausting? Bucky thought. Peter had enough energy as it was, but the babies seemed to have two speeds: 0 and 100. It was adorable and endearing, but still exhausting.

He went into the dining room and found a vase full with a large bouquet of red roses. His heart swelled at the sight (he blamed the omega hormones) and he put his nose near them and smelled. They even smelled like roses. It was hard to believe that people had ruined the flowers, but most roses these days didn’t seem to have a smell to speak of. It was the best part.

Steve came around the corner and smiled. He crossed over to where Bucky was standing and placed a soft kiss to his lips. Bucky hummed into the kiss.

“Happy Mother’s Day,” Steve said. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“I’m not a ma, Steve,” he replied.

“So?”

“So why are you giving me shit for Mother’s Day?” he asked.

“Well, the way I see it,” Steve replied. “Mother’s Day is really just a day to appreciate someone you love. So… I decided that since there isn’t a mother in this family, that I would just celebrate you.”

Bucky reached a hand down and laced their fingers together.

“You’re a dork,” he said. Steve smiled.

“Yup.”

“And a sap.”

“Definitely.”

“And a punk.”

“Always.”

“I love you,” Bucky said. He pressed their lips together in a gentle kiss. Steve wrapped his free arm around Bucky and drew him close. They kissed for a long, peaceful, blissful moment before the twins started crying. Bucky sighed with annoyance.

“Just as it was getting good,” Steve chuckled.

“Shut up, they’re hungry,” Bucky said. “I’m hungry, too. Make me some breakfast if you really appreciate me.”

Steve laughed and waved him off. He marched up the stairs and went straight to the nursery. He carefully picked up each baby and cradled them gently as he set himself down in a rocking chair. Becca was already hitting his chest, demanding food while little Joey just cried. Bucky hummed gently as he pulled his shirt up and each of them latched onto a nipple and began to suck. He leaned back in the chair and settled in.

He must have dozed off a bit, because the next thing he knew, the twins were squirming in his arms and definitely were not interested in food anymore. He stood up and took them downstairs. He placed them in the play pen they kept in the living room so he could help Steve with the cooking. He took a moment to smile down at them before he did so.

They worked in silent efficiency, orbiting around each other as they worked. Soon the room was filled with the smell of biscuits and eggs and bacon. It was an easy, somewhat shocking form of happiness. Back in the 40s, most of these seasonings weren’t even available and those that were were too expensive.

This part of retirement was both the most comforting and the most difficult to get used to. The cooking without wondering if they would be called on a mission, the going to sleep without wondering if an alarm would wake them and the twins, even being able to take a bath without wondering if they would have to get dressed quickly, it all seemed so strange.

The only thing that disturbed the quiet was the sound of babies crying. Even that was less stressful than hero work. Bucky didn’t mind it, either. After decades of assassinations, brutality, and violence, it was good to do something different.

Maybe it was why Steve started making more art. Maybe he got tired of the violence and destruction, too. Making something, nurturing something, it was hard, but it was also immensely satisfying.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asked.

Steve glanced up from where he was standing over the twins. They were playing on the carpet in the living room with big, goofy smiles on their faces. Steve, meanwhile, held a camera. An actual, honest to God camera, like professional people used instead of his phone like a normal person. He looked up sheepishly and grinned at Bucky.

“It’s their first Mother’s Day,” Steve replied.

“They don’t have a ma,” Bucky countered.

“They have parents who love them,” Steve said.

“You didn’t do this before,” Bucky said.

“Well, I thought I’d try something new,” Steve replied. “You know, scrapbooking, so we can look back on the times we had when they were babies.”

“You mean the thing where people have embarrassing baby pictures of their kids that they show to dates?” Bucky asked. Steve grinned and nodded.

“But, you know, also because they’re cute,” Steve replied. He held up the camera and looked at Bucky hopefully. “You wanna be in one?”

“For their, ‘Babies’ First Mother’s Day’ picture?” Bucky asked.

Steve looked like a little puppy the way he smiled so earnestly. It wasn’t fair that he could do that. Bucky’s resolve crumbled as he walked over to the twins and sat on the floor. They turned and smiled at him. He scooped up Becca with his left arm and Joey with his right. Joey reached up and took a lock of Bucky’s hair and giggled as he pulled it. Bucky ignored the little bit of pain. Hopefully it wouldn’t become a habit. He liked his hair.

The camera lens clicked and Bucky ignored it as he smiled between his babies. Becca giggled as Bucky kissed her head gently and the camera clicked again.

“You’re gonna be that suburban dweller who makes the family get themed pictures every year, aren’t you?” Bucky asked with a grin on his face.

“That’s a good idea,” Steve said. “Could be fun.”

Bucky made a note to kick himself later. Steve placed Joey’s elephant in Bucky’s lap and Joey abandoned the lock of Bucky’s hair (thank God) and started playing with the stuffed animal instead. He pulled on the ears, instead, and laughed.

“You’ll show me the pictures later, right?” Bucky asked.

“Of course,” Steve said. “I think I’m good, now.”

Bucky didn’t move to get up, but he did set them down on the floor. Steve sat down, too, and they played with their babies until they tuckered themselves out.

At the end of the day, after the babies were put to bed, Bucky crept through the house as quietly as possible. Who knew that the decades of espionage and assassin training would come in handy like this? He knew which parts of the house made sounds, how to avoid making them, and how to get from one end of the house to the other in complete silence.

Steve was decent at it, but obviously as Captain America, he had fewer stealth missions and more that involved straight up fights. There tended to be more explosions, too. As long as that didn’t become part of his parenting style, though, Bucky had no issues with that.

Of course, knowing that his birthday was on the 4th of July, there probably would be explosions involved in Steve’s parenting at some point. There was no getting around that. At least they would be small and easily controlled.

The light to the office was on and Bucky crept inside. Steve was sitting at the desk, clicking away at something. Bucky cleared his throat as he approached and Steve smiled sheepishly up at him.

“What’cha doin’?” Bucky asked. Steve was quiet for a bit.

“I’m experimenting with Photoshop,” he said. Bucky looked at the screen and sure enough, it was one of the pictures Steve had taken earlier. It was beautiful as it was, from what Bucky could tell. Then again, he had never been the artist. Steve had the attention to detail, the perfectionism that made him so good at it.

“You ever thought about going to school for this sorta thing?” Bucky asked. “They have that these days, you know. Could learn how to do this stuff all fancy and shit.”

“Language, Buck.”

“They’re sleeping,” Bucky drawled softly.

“I’ve thought about it,” Steve replied. “Not sure I’d wanna do it… you know, with my name.”

“Think SHIELD would give us fake names so we could go to college?” Bucky asked.

“Maybe,” Steve replied. “Not sure what they could do about your arm, though.”

“It’s easy enough to hide if you know how,” Bucky said. “I could manage.”

“Does that mean you wanna go to school?” Steve asked.

“Well I’m not gonna be your pretty stay-at-home omega, barefoot and pregnant,” Bucky said. “Not exactly what I was thinking when we retired.”

Steve chuckled. “Darn, there goes that fantasy.”

“Tough luck,” Bucky replied.

“What would you study?” Steve asked.

“No idea,” Bucky replied. “I just know that I have to do something. Staying at home is fine for now, but eventually I’m gonna get antsy.”

Steve was quiet for a while. “You know,” he said. “I could be the stay-at-home parent.”

Bucky looked down at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “I mean, I like being here. I could make art here at home, watch the kids. I don’t know if I would even have to take that many classes.”

“Could get Peter to babysit if we ever needed to be out of the house,” Bucky said. “I think you’d be great at being a stay-at-home parent.”

Steve smiled and leaned in to rest his head on Bucky’s chest. Bucky wrapped an arm around his shoulders and hugged him gently.

“Thank you,” Steve murmured. Bucky leaned down and kissed him. It was sweet and chaste and affectionate. Steve reached up and took Bucky’s face in his hands as he started to deepen the kiss. It became heated and Bucky pulled back.

“Stop,” he said. Steve nodded and pulled back a bit.

“Still not up for it?” he asked.

“No, I just don’t want an Irish twin in addition to the twins we have already,” Bucky replied. Steve chuckled.

“That would get in the way of school, wouldn’t it?” Steve said.

“I mean, maybe,” Bucky said. “I just know that I’m not ready to get knocked up again.”

Steve chuckled. At that moment, they heard the sound of a baby crying, which soon lead to the sound of two babies crying. Bucky sighed as his own arousal dampened.

“Duty calls,” he said. “I’ll get them, you keep doing what you’re doing here.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Steve said.

Bucky walked out of the room and went to the nursery. He picked his babies up out of the crib and shushed them quietly, soothing their distress. They were tired. He sympathized. He walked over to his rocking chair and sat down to let them scent him. He stayed that way until they fell back asleep. The sound of a camera lens drew his attention and he looked up at Steve.

“Another one?” Bucky asked quietly.

“You’re all so cute when you’re like this,” Steve replied softly. “I love it. I’m gonna use this as a reference and draw it.”

Bucky actually smiled at that. “Sap.”

“That’s right,” Steve said. He walked over and kissed him. “Your sap.”

Bucky smiled. It was a nice thought. Steve was a good alpha. He was lucky, so lucky, to have him. Steve picked up one of the babies and set them back in the crib for the night. Bucky followed suit and as they walked off back to their room to go to bed, he found himself smiling at the simple, blissful life he had.

[lovemesomesurveys]

5,000 questions survey series--part forty-one

3901. What is the most annoying tv ad? Most of them are. I pretty much just tune ‘em out, but they sometimes sneak their way in anyway. 3902. If you died, how would you hope others would remember you? I mean, in a positive way of course. 3903. Name 2 questions that you will most likely never say 'no' to: 1. Do you want coffee? 2. Do you want to go on vacation? 3904. What is the softest part of your body? I mean, most of it is except for my hands. 3905. What family do you want to see in place of the Osbournes when they finally stop doing their show? I can’t get over how old this survey really is wow. This show aired from 2002 to 2005. :O Anyway, the next big family of reality TV was obviously the Kardashians. They’ve been on since like 2008/2009.

3906. If you could pick 3 bands to go on tour together who would they be? Linkin Park, Coldplay, and The Foo Fighters.  3907. What is a main differance between western and eastern philospohy? Uhh. 3908. Would you be fooled by Joe/Josephine Millionaire? I never watched the show, but I know the premise. The women thought they were on a dating competition show dating this millionaire guy, but turns out wasn’t a millionaire at all and was just some average Joe (literally). At the end he makes his choice and then comes clean about the whole thing. Anyway, to answer the question, I would never go on a show like this or ever date a guy for his money, but hypothetically speaking I suppose I probably would be fooled by it because they did all this outlandish things on the show and he seemed to really have money. I wouldn’t have a reason to think it was all a lie  (though obviously it was). 

3909. Do you believe Michael Jackson does innoprpriate things at his Neverland Ranch? Like what? This was highly talked about and brought to light again earlier this year and based on the documentary, he did in fact do inappropriate things at his Neverland Ranch. A lot of inappropriate things. 3910. What do you think of gov. Ryan who cleared out Illinois' death row? I know nothing about that. 3911. Would you want a $500 gift certificate to: Kmart or Target? Macy's or Hot Topic? Border's Books or Spencer Gifts? (Sadly, Borders no longer exists) Victoria's Secret or Frederick's of Hollywood? 3912. What do you think of this website: www.blackpeopleloveus.com/ I’ve never heard of it and I don’t feel like checking it out.  3913. Man vs Elephant. A zookeeper was treating a constipated elephant. He gave her too much laxitive. Suddenly everything exploded out onto the zookeeper. He was knocked to the ground where he hit his head on a rock and got knocked out. There he suffocated under a pile of elephant dung. True story. Is it a funy story? No, I never find a person’s death funny. If yes, what is funny about it? Why is it so taboo to laugh at death? Because it’s a very sensitive subject and just not something to laugh about, regardless of who it is or what the circumstances are.  3914. What are your favorite five things from this list: alternate realities, animals, astronomy, birds, camus, cats, cheap trick, cocaine, cooking, costumes, dancing, elvis, gambling, greta garbo, james dean, jeff buckley, joy division, marilyn monroe, mixed drinks, moody blues, morrissey, mozart, my bloody valentine, orbital, pizza, playing flute, prince, radiohead, rummy 500, scrabble, table tennis, talk talk, van morrison, writing 

^^^ Only 4 things but oh well. 3915. Do you have to read lots to be able to write well? No? I mean, it definitely helps, sure, but you can still be a great writer without having read a lot. 3916. Vanilla ice. Everyone loved him, suddenly everyone hated him. What was the deal?? I forget what the issue was. 3917. If you could kick one person out of the grammies who would it be (Avril, Eminem, etc)? 3918. Studies have revealed that when sending out a resume a person has a 50% higher chance of getting a responce if their name is white sounding than if it is black sounding. What do you think about this? Why do companies respond this way? 3919. Should Big Fat Greek Wedding really be a Big Fat Greek sitcom? I never had the interest in seeing the movie, so I wouldn’t have cared to see a sitcom either. I don’t remember if there was one or not. I feel like there was? 3920. What are you addicted to? Caffeine. And truthfully, after many years on my pain medication my body has become dependent.  3921. What fascinates you? Psychology. 3922. What is fascinating about you? Ha, nothing. I’m so boring. 3923. Personality wise, is anything the same for all human beings and if so, what? I don’t think so. 3924. What kind of a contest woud you have a shot at winning? A simple one where I just submit an entry in, ha. I’m not doing anything requiring more than that. 3925. You see a dirty punk kid who had a giant cowboy hat on who is rolling his own cigarettes. Your impression? I don’t care. 3926. What would you never want to have more than 2 of? Hmm. 3927. Is there a movie you just could not finish watching? What and why? Yeah, but of course I can’t think of an example right now. It’s pretty rare for me not to finish a movie even if I’m not into it, but it has happened. 3928. Is there anyone that you love and want to be around for no explainable reason? I mean, I love to be around my family. It’s explainable, though. I love them and enjoy spending time together. 3929. Would you go to times square for new years? Noooo. That sounds like an absolute nightmare. 3930. Do you think that there are to many signs blocking up the scenery? In some places. 3931. Did video really kill the radio star? Yep. Video later died, too. I mean, yeah artists still make music videos, but it’s not at all as big a hype anymore like I feel it was back in the day during the TRL days and when MTV actually played music videos all the time. 3932. What was your favorite atari game? I’ve actually never played. 3933. what is your favorite neon color? I don’t have a favorite neon color. 3934. Do you get depressed eveytime it rains? If yes, why? No. I love the rain. 3935. 'The more you admit that all your actions are robotic, the less robotic you are.' What does Tim leary mean by this? Maybe because if you admit it then that means you’re conscious and aware.  Do you agree or disagree and why? How much of your actions do you admit are robotic? I feel like I live on autopilot. 3936. Are we not men? Uh, not all of us. 3937. Is it easy to be you? Would being someone else make it any easier? No, it definitely not easy for me and I can’t imagine why anyone would ever think it was. It’s not easy for anyone; though, despite what it might look like. Everyone has their struggles. 3938. Why are sex religion and politics such taboo subjects? Because people have very strong opinions about it and they’re just very sensitive topics. 3939. Is there really a differance between republicans and democrats? Yeah? 3940. Imagine someone has a great personality, sense or humor, family and job. they also really really like you a lot. Would you consider dating them if they: were fat? Yes. I care a lot more about a person’s personality and I would not reject someone because of something like weight.  limped? Sure? I’m in a wheelchair, so who am I to judge a limp. were a midget? I totally do not mean this in a mean or shallow way at ALL, but I honestly don’t know. That’s only because I think as someone in a wheelchair, I would like to be with someone who would be able to lift /carry me and/or my chair. were paralized in one arm? Yes. Again, I’m paralyzed from the waist down, so. had a glass eye? Yes. That’s not a big deal. had only 6 months to live? I wouldn’t want to enter a relationship, no. I would gladly be there as a friend for support. 3941. What makes you experiance nostalgia? A lot of things. I’m a very nostalgic person. I really miss my childhood and have been feeling more sad about it lately. I think cause I’m turning 30 soon and just feeling old. 3942. What do you remember about these historical figures: Woodrow Wilson? He was a president. Hellen Keller? She was blind and deaf. Was an activist for the disabled.  Christopher Columbus? “Sailed the ocean blue in 1492.” 3943. Out of the above three figures, one is a huge racist, one is a socialist and one is a slave trader. Can you guess which is which? Racist: socialist: slave trader: 3944. Betcha they didn't tell you that in american history. Wilson, Keller and Columbus are painted as heros, impossibly good, ideal people. Why are so many things ommitted from and lied about in american history text books? 3945. Do you drink super caffinated energy drinks? Nope. I don’t drink any energy drinks. 3946. eminem or moby? Eminem.  3947. spongebob or the animanicas? Animaniacs was from my childhood, so I’ll have to go with that. 3948. Why do people rush to grow up only to wish they were a child again? I have no idea. I definitely wasn’t one of those people. 3949. Why do people sacrifice their health to obtain moneya d then use the money to restore their health? Uh. 3950. Jetsons or Flintstones? I watched both as a kid. 3951. What are you saving up for? Nothing, specifically. 3952. Would you rather improve your cooking, creativity, body,logic or charisma? Body. 3953. Is it more important to have stregnth or speed? For me, strength. 3954. What is your favorite thing to do each day? Drink coffee. 3955. When you are driving do you ever feel like turning the car towards someplace unfamiliar and not comming back? I don’t drive. 3956. Have you ever gone to lunch at a job and never gone back to the job? I’ve never had a job. 3957. What kind of a dining room set defines you as a person? Uh. I have no idea, that’s never been something I’ve thought about.  3958. Kiss, with or without the make up? I’d say it’s better without lip gloss or lipstick cause it gets messy. 3959. Madonna or Courtney Love? Madonna. 3960. Are you down with james Brown? Nah. 3961. Do you believe in miracles? Yes. 3962. Are you living a lie? I wouldn’t say that. 3963. If you had to give up one would it be caled ID or call waiting? I like knowing who’s calling. 3964. Are you ready to switch to an electric or solar powered car? I don’t drive. 3965. What is the greatest band of the 90's? That’s too hard to choose. 3966. What's the appeal of Alley Mcbeal? I never really watched it apart from seeing bits of it here and there because my mom watched it. I was just a kid and didn’t care. 3967. Fill in the blank. ___ aint the kind of place to raise a kid. 3968. What song goes: starry eye surprise, sundown to sunrise, we're gonna dance all night to this dj' and who is it by? Starry Eyed Surprise by Paul Oakenfold.  3969. What ever happened to the mtv vj Kennedy? No idea. 3970. if you could sing with one band for a day what band and what song would you want it to be? Probably, “In the End” by Linkin Park. 3971. Josie and the PussyCats or Jem? Josie and the Pussycats. Aw, I remember that cartoon that came on Cartoon Network when I was a kid. 3972. Wouldn't oyu like to be a pepper too? Not sure what this is referencing.  3973. Britney spears, school girl or sexy, which do you prefer? Poor Britney. She’s really been going through it. I think there’s a lot that has been going on that we don’t know about. I don’t know if she’s being treated the right way or that people really have her best interest. It’s sad.  3974. Would you get married on tv? No. Not sure why I would. I’m no one famous. 3975. Where do you go looking for the secrets of life? Uhhh. 3976. What is the fuel for your soul? Coffee. 3977. Why do people watch american idol (I think it's for Simon)? I stopped watching after the OG judges left. I checked it once like 3 years ago and...yikes. It just wasn’t good. I’m into The Voice. 3978. What makes life sweet? Desserts. ha. 3979. What does it take to make a great band? People that can sing,  play instruments, and write music? 3980. What do you think of when you hear the word 'devo'? “I said, whip it! Whip it good.” 3981. What song or movie represents the 80's for you? The Breakfast Club and Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Of course I instantly thought of the song, “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” by Simple Minds. 3982. What song poem or other piece of writing would you want read when you died? I don’t know.

3983. Is a stable job home and family pretty much your goal or do you want more than that and WHAT? Right now I want good health. 3984. What tv show that is no longer on tv do you miss? True Blood. 3985. Remember when Chris from nirvana threw his bass in the air and hit himself in the head with it? Yeah. 3986. What commercial is really annoying you(almonds, want some almonds, you're a big fellow aren't you)??? Currently, there isn’t really one that’s annoying me. Like I had mentioned before, I tend to just tune ‘em out. 3987. Nominate a rockstar for president: 3988. Who amazes you? Hmm. 3989. What's the best musical act to come outta your own country? another country? 3990. Is your life glamorous and exciting? Pffft, no. 3991. Greatest oldschool rap artist: greatest newschool rap artist: 3992. DJ Jazzy jeff or Will Smith, which persona? Both. Summatime will always be a fave.  39993. Ever try yoga? No. 3994. Are you a brick shit house? ..No. 3995. What products do you use? A lot? 3996. How good do you look? Not good at all. I’m a mess. 3997. Tonight you're going to party like_________ someone who is about to go to bed. ha. Okay, okay I know what you’re getting at: like it’s 1999.  3998. Have you ever written a song? No. if yes did you record it? 3999. What would you like to have 999 of? Dollars. 4000. Do you own a metal detector? No.

[who-talks-first]

About Me

{{Occasionally, I stop posting and/or responding to messages. It's nothing personal. I often get overwhelmed by socializing, even moreso since quarantine and my own self-isolation. I will eventually get back. It's also perfectly cool to message me multiple times or rant or whatever. I'm happy to be a sounding board when I have the energy to respond again. I hope everyone's doing alright.}}

{{Pinning this until I get the masterlist completed!}}

Billie, please. But if you know me as Sara, it's okay you still call me that. 💜

My main blog is @your-naked-magic-oh-dear-lord.

36, Aquarius, Rebel, Queer. If I can live through this, I can do anything.

Austin - I have Texas in my heart and soul and will always come back home.

Mostly English and Scottish. I have an ancestor who fought, died, and was buried beside Braveheart, William Wallace.

Bisexual and Nonbinary. Any pronouns are fine, I just usually get she/her.

Very vocal leftist and communist, but I try to keep that to my main blog. I want this one to focus on entertainment. It does occasionally come up topically and the themes appear in my writing.

I suffer from several different physical and mental illnesses, including Major Depression and Diabetes. For all intents and purposes, I'm disabled and often use a cane. I have been institutionalized.

I have a Australian Shepherd named Bear and a rescue cat named Toni Stark. I lost both my cat and my dog last year (2022)and I am stuck in a bad spiral of grief right now. Our household is home to over a dozen cats, two dogs, three horses, three cows, a turtle, one giant goldfish, and whatever needs rescuing on a given day.

I love food and soda. Dining out and going to the movies are my favorite activities. I also enjoy watching my friends play shows at the Live Music Capital of the World. I'm okay at the guitar and terrible at singing but guess which is the thing I love doing more than anything else. I love tattoos, porgs, Daisy Ridley, cute people, punk rock, country music, animals, Steven Universe, stuffed animals, LoZ, rubber ducks, Billie Joe Armstrong, fashion, beauty, decor, the MCU, electric guitar, MLP: FiM, sleeping, Robert Downey jr., drawing, owls, books, Hello Kitty, Brandon Flowers, cussing, magic, and writing.

I've been a SW fan since I was 10 and I've been writing since I was 15 or so. I wore out my copy of Rogue Squadron on N64. I've been a fan of Poe Dameron since "who talks first?" Even though I didn't start writing SW fanfic 'til January, 2018, I have been making up SW stories in my head since I was 12 or so. I had a Mary Sue self-insert OC and everything!

Favorite SW characters in no particular order: Rey, Ahsoka Tano, BB-8, R2-D2, D-0, The Child, Obi-wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn, Luke Skywalker, Padmé Amidala, Jyn Erso, K-2SO, Cara Dune, Cassian Andor, Wedge Antilles, Jag Fel, Jaina Solo, Leia Organa, Mara Jade Skywalker, L3-37, Poe Dameron, Jar-Jar Binks, Lando Calrissian, Din Djarin, and Jessika Pava.

About the Blog

This is my Star Wars/Poe Dameron/Oscar Isaac fan sideblog. I mostly share others' fanfic, but I sometimes write my own stuff and share it here. I'm working on redesigning/organizing my blog, and making a masterlist.

<<More often than not, the fics I reblog are smutty. I do my best to tag them #nsfw, but I do forget. Thankfully, the authors usually indicate this at the top of the fic too. I do have minor followers and y'all are always welcome. However, I do ask that you respect the 18+ warnings on the dirty fics. I ain't your folks and I can't stop you, but I kindly request that you respect me and my blog so I don't have to make it 18+ only. That's not what I want to do; I appreciate y'all being here, and seeing young people enjoying SW like I did as a kid fills my heart with glee.>>

I genuinely try to tag spoilers when new content comes out. Admittedly, I do forget. If there's an older piece of media you're just discovering and would like me tagging spoilers for it, I would be happy to; just send me an ask!

I cannot promise this is a wank-/discourse-free blog. I'm often criticizing Disney here, but I also will go off about problems in fandom and when a particular group is specifically harmful. This is a very pro-John Boyega blog. I often rage about the destruction of our characters of color (I think the spicerunner arc is one of the worst things done to a character in the history of entertainment) and fully support John, Oscar Isaac, and Tran Loan (and all/any other actor/crewmembers of color who are mistreated). If you want the negativity tagged, you have only to ask. I generally don't shit on particular types of fans that I don't necessarily agree with, ie. Obikin shippers, and they're welcome here. I do speak out about things that make me uncomfortable, whether it be on a personal or corporate level. Besides these tough subjects, most of my posts are fun and light. Fandom is supposed to be fun and I encourage that. If you're not enjoying your fandom, you do not have to stay there! You can enjoy a piece of media without surrounding yourself with toxic fans!

My fandoms are bleeding together a bit. There's often Triple Frontier posts, particularly Pope x Reader fics, occasionally poly/multi as well. I sometimes reblog Pedro stuff and the rare Ezra fic. Don't @ me. Regrettably, at some point, I will probably be posting Dork Lito Bofades content. Believe me, I ain't happy about it.

We're anti-Reylo here, but as long as the wank gets left at the door, everyone is welcome. Just know there's a lot of memes, but I generally don't mean them in bad faith. I also ridicule Renjamin to within an inch of his life.

My tags are #Just Billie for my personal posts; #Billie's Opinion for my SW discourse; #Tainted Fanfic Writer for my SW fanfic; #Not My Fic for fanfic reblogged from others. I try to tag posts regarding specific movies and shows like this: #tpm, #aotc, #rots, #rogue one, #solo, #anh, #esb, #rotj, #tfa, #tlj, #the mandalorian*, and #tros (pre-2020 it's #ep ix speculation). I also tag #gif, #art, #sw bts, #incorrect sw, #aesthetics, #moodboards, #Space Mom, #Poe Dameron Comic, #StormPilot, #JediStormPilot, #FinnRey, #SpicePilot (my joke ship name for Poe and Zorii), #droids, #porgs, #spacecraft, character names, actor names, and common triggers. Villain names usually include their title rather than given name such as #general hux. I'm now reading a lot of Mandalorian fic, so I tag #the Mandalorian (for both the character and the show) #the child for baby Yoda; other characters follow the regular tagging conventions. For TF, I tag #santiago garcia and #frankie morales. If you would like something tagged, even if it's just a character name I don't usually tag or a certain discourse, please inbox me. No worries! *apparently, I've been misspelling "Mandalorian" wrong for 6 months because of the nickname "Mando", so it's going to take me a while to get the tag corrected, so please bear with me.

[kalinkaooc]

Issue 49 updated rewrite

I replaced Xander/Mr. X with Madam Y since we’re throwing out the Xander time travel plot and Madam Y needs more to do.

[System reboot complete]

[Weapon disabled]

[DWN-012 online]

“There *static* go. I think *static*” a voice Quick Man couldn’t fully make out said. All he could see was a fuzzy blue shape in front of him.

He blinked as his optics started to come into focus and he looked to the one who’d spoken.

“Hey there Quick Man, do you recognize me?”

Instant rage and, though he’d deny it, fear ran through Quick Man at the sight of a fully armored Mega Man in front of him and he lashed out blindly.

“Patronizing little punk!” Quick Man lunged forward and Rock just barely dodged the punch. Still angry Quick Man sent a kick in his direction, which only just glanced off Rock’s armor. “I don’t know how I’m back online, but I’m not wasting a second waiting to kick your…” He trailed off when his hand met air instead of his Quick Boomerang. “What’s going on!”

“We disabled your weapon in case you became violent like this.”

Quick Man glared at Rock, though the fear was starting to show in his optics. “What are you talking about?”

Rock smiled. “Really? I thought you were supposed to be quick on the uptake?”

Quick Man obviously didn’t find the joke funny and only became more angered from it. “What did you just say?”

“Quick, calm down. You’re making a scene.”

Quick Man’s view of Rock was suddenly blocked when Wood Man cut in and pushed him back.

“Wood?” Quick Man blinked in surprise and took a step back to get a better view of his brother. “You’ve been restored too?”

Wood Man smiled, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We all have.”

It was then Quick Man finally looked at his surroundings. Sure enough all his brothers from both lines were online, standing around the lab and looking at him.

“I… don’t… how is this possible?”

“I made sure to preserve your IC chips.” Quick Man turned to Rock, this time more calm. “After that we just had to fix the battle damage and bring you back online. Speaking of the damage, heh, sorry about that. You didn’t give me much of a choice.” Rock smiled sheepishly.

Quick Man on the other hand bcame exacerbated again. “Of course not! We’re your enemies! We’re supposed to fight, Mr. Big Shot Hero!”

“Not necessarily.” Dr. Light stepped up and gave Quick Man a smile. “Robots are neither good nor evil. They aline with what their programing tells them.”

“It’s not fair that you all had to be destroyed because Wily’s a jerk.” Roll added as she finished helping detach Magnet Man from Metal Man. “That’s why we’re rebuilding you and reprogramming you, to give you a second chance.”

“Reprograming…?” A dark look crossed Quick Man’s face before turning to Rock angrily. “If we’re all buddy-buddy now, how come you’re all armed and armored?”

Rock took on a serious face and looked to Quick Man. “Because Dr. Wily weaponized you all. We think we disarmed all of you but it’s better to be safe than sorry.” He then crossed his arms. “Or did you forget you kicked me two minutes ago?”

“Oh cry me a river.” Quick Man then glanced around the lab once more. “But seriously though… where is Dr. Wily?”

The whole room when quiet and Rocks face grew somber. “The last time we fought… his castle came crashing down… I was too damaged to move and he… he didn’t make it.”

-

*Meanwhile at Wily’s Castle*

“…before I really loos my temper! So move it lady!” Gilbert shouted at the woman blocking his way, but the woman, who’d introduced herself as Madam Y didn’t move.

“Maybe I need to speak more slowly. This island is privately owned by the X Corporation. We are currently taking inventory of an unauthorized building on our land. We haven’t asked for any police assistance.

“It’s. A. Wily. Castle!”

“And. You. Don’t. Have. A. Warrant.”

“No but I’ve got five good reasons right here if any of your knuckle-heads want to inspect ‘em,” Gilbert raised his fist in a threatening manner.

“Gil! Take it down a notch, partner.”

Gilbert paused at Rosslyn’s interruption and lowered his arm.

“Thank you Miss… Krantz was it? I might be more cooperative if you could help us with one small matter.” Madam Y smiled smugly. “Light Labs confiscated eight pieces of property left on this island, and is contesting to some of the wreckage found on-sight. If you two could look into that matter for us?”

Rosslyn gave her own smug smile. “Sorry, we’d love to help, but we can’t seem to get past your gate, such a shame. We’ll let you know about that warrant though. Have a nice day, ma’am.” She then turned and walked away with Gilbert, leaving a fuming Madam Y at the gate.

Once back on the boat Rosslyn told the captain to take them back to the doc before taking a seat. Her arms wrapped around herself and she shivered. “Brr, those corporate mooks were creepy.”

“Yeah, seen ‘em dozens of times across my career. Hit the same wall with them every time. But that doesn’t excused me for flying off the handle. Thanks for watching my back Rosie.”

“Save it, I’m the one that owes you and apology.”

“Howzat?”

“I thought everyone in the office was right. That you were just chasing ghosts and conspiracies. But that wasn’t ‘security’ back there, that was a private military, and their covering up for Dr. Wily. The ‘X Corporation’ seems pretty real to me.”

Gilbert nodded. “Yeah well, we’ll keep a lid on it for now. This cover up is sloppy for them. We’ll wait until they slip up. Besides anything of value has probably been squirreled away somewhere.”

-

*Back at Light Labs*

The weight of what had just been said suddenly hit Quick Man and for the first time in his life he felt unsteady on his feet. Wood Man placed a hand on him to steady him but Quick Man brushed him off.

“I’m fine, I just need… to go for a run.”

Dr. Light grabbed onto Quick Man’s arm to stop him. “Unfortunately, we can’t let you do that yet. Not until we know Wily’s programing is completely gone.”

“What?!” Quick Man turned and shoved Dr. Light away.

Dr. Light stumbled but he managed to stay standing. “As long as Wily’s loyalty coding is in your system you are considered a danger and not aloud outside this building.”

“What? No! Not happening!”

“Quick, please! This is why we rebuilt you, so you could have a purpose other than serving Wily.” Rock tried to reach out to Quick Man but he didn’t let him.

“So I’m just supposed to accept that I’m not going to care about my dad anymore?!”

Rock looked taken aback and took a step back from the DWN. “No that’s not… once you’re reprogramed…”

“There you go again. If you reprogram me, then you’re getting rid of what’s me! If you’re going to go that far you might as well blow me up again! Are you saying you were fine with Wily changing your coding?”

Rock’s eyes went wide, obviously conflicted about what Quick Man had said. “N…no but…”

He looked at the other Wilybots trying to find someone who would help him, but many seemed to agree with Quick. Even the ones who’d showed interest in being given a new job stayed quiet.

Seeing her brother’s distress Roll turned to Dr. Light for help. “Dr. Light you got to tell them, maybe then they’ll listen!”

“Gentlemen, you need to understand your reconstruction came with conditions. If you cannot serve a practical purpose by federal law then you must be decommissioned.”

“Fine if those are our options then…” Quick Man let out a growl. Then without warning he lunged and pinned Dr. Light against the wall. “We’ll just have to make a new one. Now let us go!”

“No, I can’t. You’re a danger to…”

Dr. Light tried to reason but Quick Man was having none of it.

“I don’t care, I’m not going to just roll over and die without a fight!”

“Let him go!”

Rock held up his blaster and Quick Man glared at him. He then dropped Dr. Light and turned fully to him. “What, are you going to shoot me? Well then what are you waiting for? Do it.”

“What… no. Quick…” Rock once again tried to think of something he could say to reason with the DWN, but he was too worked up on emotion to think of what to say.

“Go ahead, shoot me. I’m dead either way so just use that blaster of yours already.”

Rock just shook his head.

“Alright then if you’re not going to fight us then there’s nothing keeping us from leaving.” He then started walking towards the door not even looking back.

Rock hesitated, not knowing what to do. He then felt Dr. Light’s hand on his shoulder.

“We can’t let him get out.”

Rock grit his teeth and he nodded. Closing his eyes he let a charged blast go at Quick Man’s back.

Quick Man only had a second of warning but that was all he needed. Dodging out of the way, the shot hit the wall instead blasting a hole large enough for the Wilybots to escape.

“NO!” Rock yelled as half the rebuilt Wilybots started running out of the lab and teleporting away.

Quick Man paused at the hole and turned to Shadow Man. “You coming?”

“Nah I think I’ll stick around.”

A smirk crossed Quick Man’s lips and he nodded. “Got ‘cha.” He then stepped outside before teleporting away as well.

The lab was silent for a long time until Spark Man went over to Dr. Light and used his prongs to grab onto his lab coat. He tugged on it to get his attention and Dr. Light looked down at him. “Dr. Light you’re not really going to make us forget our daddy are you?”

Dr. Light looked over the Wilybots who’d stayed behind and sighed. “No, I would never do something like that. I was just trying to tell your brothers we had to make sure you’re not dangerous anymore, I’m sorry I couldn’t get them to understand.”

Spark man nodded and then went back to his brothers.

“Come on we need to find new jobs for all of you.”

Dr. Light led the Wilybots away from the hole in the wall and over to a computer where they picked out their new jobs.

Rock on the other hand just stayed and stared at the wall, feeling really confused and conflicted.

Sometime later when all the remaining Wilybots had been assigned jobs and were out of the lab, Rock went over to Dr. Light.

“Hey Dad? May I ask you something?”

Dr. Light looked down at his son and smiled. “Of course, what is it?”

“It’s just that, if I had hit Quick and stopped the other Wilybots from escaping… would you have really shut them down?”

Dr. Light frowned, and looked away from Rock. “I don’t know, son. If I really couldn’t have reasoned with them then I suppose I would have had no choice. I would never let dangerous robots loos around the city and forcing reprograming on them is no better than what Wily did.” He sighed. “It would be one of the hardest things I’d ever have to do but if it meant keeping people safe then yes. I would.”

Rock looked at the ground silent for a while before nodding. “Ok, I just wanted to know.”

Rock then turned to leave, but before he could Dr. Light placed a hand on his shoulder. “Rock, you know I would have done everything I could before it came to that, right?”

A small smile and a nod was his answer. “Yeah I know.”

-

*Somewhere underground.*

Dr. Wily opened his eyes and glanced around the room he was in. He seemed to be in a medical lab of some sort, emphasized by the cot he was laying in and the hospital gown he was wearing.

“Nugh… wh…where am I?”

“That is currently unimportant.”

The woman who’d been blocking Gil and Rosslyn from getting into the Wily Castle stepped in.

Wily looked suspiciously at her.

“Who are you?”

“Also unimportant, what is important is what happens now that you’re awake. The X Corporation has been watching you for some time Dr. Wily. There is much I wish to discuss with you. Please fallow me.”

Two people in X themed uniforms each with a crutch for Wily to use and Madam Y turned to leave.

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather stay here.”

Madam Y paused but she did not turn to look at him.

“I don’t think you quite understand the situation. You work for me now, you can either fallow on those crutches we’ve provided you or my men can make you require a wheel chair.”

Dr. Wily scowled at Madam Y’s back but took the crutches and followed her.

“So you’ve already shown off your healthcare program. What exactly am I doing for you… er boss?”

“You’re going to keep doing what you’ve been doing, making robots and trying to take over the world.”

“What?”

“Your past exploits have worked very well in our favor Doctor. By working together both of our goals will be fulfilled.”

She opened a door to reveal a large robotics lab full of everything needed to make top of the line robots of any kind.

“You should have everything you need to get started.”

Dr. Wily looked around the room in aw before a wicked grin spread on his face.

“Oh yes, you’ve given me exactly what I need.”

[stone-man-warrior]

1-16-2021: 10:29 pm

I am using the same computer I always use for this post, I am not using a smart phone, I am not using any kind of phone. The system is hijacked to make it look as though a phone was used for making this post. It is very difficult to find a text box to write in that is not hijacked, so I am trying this one, it may show up as though Sparacino of 545 Jackpine wrote the post, or, Monroe at 434 Jackpine could show as the place the that posted this. neither one is the author of the post.

It could show that Wesely Crowel of 549 Jackpine is the one who posted the information, but he is not the author of the information. So far, no one of official capacity has ever spoken with the author of this information in any way, not by phone, nor by email, nor by US postal mail, nor with response to this account at the place where messages can be sent at Tumblr. I only get one scary message that is about my children being safe, and far away, with no other information or contact from them in many years. A phone call from family is no good anymore, Screen Actor Guild has too many ways of manipulating the voices and words with combination of recordings, actors, and audio effects processors. There is no way to be certain who is on the calls unless they are saying some identifiable information that no one else could possibly have, and even then, that information will be recorded, and used as a way to fool everyone involved on a telephone call. Text message is absolutely useless for knowing who is on the other end of the message.

There is some good news, is probably a set-up though. I was able to access this text box for editing with my computer. Here is another screen shot of my computer as I write. I will open a Ten Codes tab at the top tabs to try to help identify what is what, and the time on the bottom.

Scroll down to see it at after three other photos of my computer screen.

11:38 pm:

I write. The page gets long. The part I already wrote inches up higher in the computer screen, up there, above the tool bar, out of sight, is where the terror bastards are changing what I wrote a moment prior to that. Then, I post what I wrote, then read it, to see that information was slightly changed, “The” gets inserted all over the place. Duplicates of the same same words are placed into the post, such as “same” that I did intentionally that time. Many small changes happen without my knowledge or consent. So far, I don‘t see any major changes in the archive, but, there are many there to look at for baby sitting. I cannot be expected to write the information necessary to save the whole world, and have to make sure that some asshole does not change it later on. If I change my access password, the keystroke recorder that is in the norton Life Lock product will just help the bastards know how I think when I choose passwords. When I access, I do not type in a password, and, I have never told the web browser to save my password for access of any of my accounts.They all open automatically, without password necessary, there is nothing I can do to change that from happening. It’s all wide open, no security of any kind, no privacy, no US national Guard.

That, and the sheriff broke my letter n on my keyboard when the broke down my door on June 15 to arrest me for stuff that did not happen, and a bunch of rock stars were killed inside the fucking jail with the weapons they were allowed to bring in there, to kill me with.

So, I am doing way more than should be required by any citizen, even in third world countries just to stay alive long enough to get a fucking message out in world filled with Smart Phones and communication technology. It’s all designed as counter productive, intentionally set up to prevent communication from occurring.

That, and I am a disabled man, with spinal injuries, and spinal fusion. I have a fucking metal plate that holds my head on, with four  bolts, so, tell the terror bastards that I will just dull their swords, and they won’t be able to kill me.

I am Disabled American Citizen... you better be scared of me. punk.

=========================

1-17-2021: 12:16 am:

There are terror soldiers out by (my) cars in the front yard. It sounds like they are torturing an animal. It must be the Myers of Five-Six-Zero (560) Jackpine. That is how the Myers do terror, they come to the house, and kill something or someone as you watch, right there at the front porch after knocking, sometimes.

There might be a dead animal or person by my car when I go out there next time.

Juseph Myers

Kyle Myers

nora Lee Myers

Rita Myers’

Rena Myers

The scariest people on earth, hands down, there is no competition for that.

============

In case there are people fucking with my computer thinking that they are warning me about danger.... stop doing that. You are going to get me killed. just let me deal with it my way, without the distraction.

============================================

1-17-2021: 1:16 am:

A walk to the mail box was.... different.

It’s cold, foggy, I did not check the thermometer but guess that it’s about 32 degrees outside.

There were no dead animals or other bodies that could be seen on a walk to the mailbox in the dark.

There is someone from the Clyde Baum terror cell making signaling to others with owl calls. The “Whooo... whooo... whooo“ at Deitricks 601 or Taylors at 600 is a person, not an owl.

As I reached the mailboxes, where there is a communication device inside one or more of the mailboxes where terror soldiers have to stop to say who they are and why they are in the neighborhood, was used as a way to hear that I had reached the mailbox, as I closed mine, the sound alerted other terror soldiers who are behind my house and behind 520 right now. They are doing a terror scenario called “Hounds of the Baskerville’s”, a set of scary circumstance all roled out in effort to produce a victim in one way or another. The scenario includes that the sound of many coyotes could be heard yelling as they do. But, there are no coyotes in these parts of Oregon, so, the people who are able to make the coyote screams very well, are those who are from India, such as Nicole Sparacino is. I suspect the Sparacino’s are working with Clyde Baum, and someone from Dietricks to do the “Hounds of the Baskerville’s” terror murder scenario, however, Clyde does not seem to be staying at his own house lately. It seems as the terror cells have mostly all switched houses for the time being, as I mentioned last week or so. I suspect Clyde is staying at Dietricks 601.

Tonight the scenario includes a lot of set-up work at Monroe’s, where a whole bunch of three dimensional items are outside, arranged in a way the  (that) tells a story about rakes and pitch forks, shovels, dead wood, all wielded by creepy ness. There is no one there at exactly where all of that stuff is arranged, but there was someone closer to the road in the Monroe yard, making croaking frog sounds, such as those made by a Female Grommet soldier. (read about that here in this account somewhere else).

It was very dark outside.

I brought a super duty flashlight tonight, I rarely use a flashlight in favor of a Bic Lighter, and keeping my hands free for fighting.

I feel as though there is someone far away who is wanting some verification of events that took place many years ago, as is laid out in the Monroe three dimensional terror communication with use of rakes, pitchforks, shovels, shafts, stumps, wood rounds, a telescope, a camera on a log pointing at me, a large metal wagon wheel from historic wagon of some kind, a big dragon fly yard art, and a lot of other items all arranged so that I will tell about a time when my family and I fought against terror soldiers on horseback as the horses jumped the fence on attack by men with long horseman’s sabers. They had been attacking us daily, making us run to the house. One day, I prepared a defense, and we killed one horse and rider to my recollection. They stopped attacking by horseback, changed to a different attack plan after that.

So, if that is what is needed to know, then, yes, that is what happened so long ago with the men on horsback with long sabors, they may have been women, but I don’t remember and we did not do a pap smear to find out. The Monroe’s terror cell are getting the messages from somewhere far away, and arranging items in the yard, so that I will say something about it here. Each time I tell an anecdote, the story gets added to an existing data base of terror reporting and other personal information, all of which is used to hurt me and other people, is turned around backwards, and used to make me appear as a terrorist, while the terrorists take credit for the report, such as Clyde Baum has done with some intervention I did on at least two commercial airline flights, where my actions stopped a hijacking on board the plane... Clyde Baum gets the credit, the story got changed from the giant size of the truth, down to a much smaller, comparatively insignificant story about what happened on those airplane rides.

no one has ever spoken with me about any of that either.

One of the coyote’s sounded like Burt Dietrick. (WM, 45 y/o, 190 lbs. very full brown beard, short dark hair.)

The frog/Grommet soldier smelled like Theresa Sparacino. (India/w female, 18  y/o, long dark hair is dyed mostly in blonde streaks, 125 lbs.)

The Owl sounded like Clyde Baum. (WM, 60 y/o, short grey hair, 200 lbs, 5′9″)

The other coyote sounded like Nicole Sparacino. (India female, long black hair, predominant nose hook, may have vaginal/anal injury healed from sword fight long ago, deep voice, 5′10″ long skinny legs, 130 lbs)

I think Sean Sparacino is dead already but here is a description:

WM, 5′9″, 220 lbs, short butch hair cut most of the time, 42 y/o, has a hair lip, or cleft lip, or some other thing about his mouth, is fat, mass murderer, over 100,000 US citizens killed by Sean and Nicole Sparacino. Sean Sparacino may have a body alteration where he had his belly button removed, covered w/plastic surgery, presents himself to victims as “An alien being” points out that he has no belly button. Or, he uses make up for a the same effect.

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1-18-2021: 11:56 am: Additional:

Sparacino Belly Button Alien Terror:

I learned the (this) more than once. The latest time was around 2005-ish.

Use “Contemplating my naval” in place of “Belly Button“.

“Contemplating my naval” is a statement I have heard more than a few times. while on a phone call, and while in person.

Sean Sparacino uses a covered up, altered, plastic surgery belly button body enhancement to say the same thing, while pretending to be an alien from space.

My assessment is that there is at least one US Navy Serviceman “Partner”, “Companion”, “Side-Kick”, kidnapped victim of forced surgical alteration, somewhere nearby where I am. Most likely place closest is 507 (Five-Zero-Seven) Jackpine at Harold & Joan Phillips terror cell.

The subject matter is complex, dangerous, is scary, horrifying.

A “Partner” is often a victim who rides in a trunk of a car, or, is strapped to the bottom of a big-rig truck, or, strapped to the undercarriage of any vehicle... above the spare tire of a full size pick-up truck beneath the bed at the rear axle, is a place where “Partner’s” are put, attached to the vehicles. Their job is to use electronic blue-tooth communication device to stay always in contact with their captors who are driving the vehicles the “Partner’s” ride in and under. The captor’s do not speak English well enough to have a conversation, so, as an attack is happening, the Captor terror assassins need to engage in some kind of a set-up of a dialogue with an intended victim. The reason the dialogue is necessary is to ensure that the intended victim is not also a terror soldier, they are not uniformed, everyone looks like an intended victim, also, everyone looks like a terror soldier, so, the pre-attack dialogue is mandatory, and the “Partner” is the one who does the talking, from inside of a trunk of a car, or from beneath the undercarriage of a big rig or UPS, Fed-Ex, Bekins Moving truck, or while riding above the spare tire of a full size pick-up truck beneath the bed.

The point here is that anyone can be a “Partner”. They are surgically altered, amputated arms and legs, are small, fit in odd places, are strapped into odd places, and forced to communicate in English for their captors. If the “Partner” tries to make a cry for help, the captors will push the eject button while the vehicle is in motion. So, they are not likely to be doing anything other than exactly as they are told to do.

I suspect there is at least one US Navy partner around where I live.

I just got him killed with this post.

There is No Way To Get Help.

Josephine County Judge Lindi Baker and her husband Buck Baker keep, use, house, traffic, kidnapp, and help to produce “Partner” “side-kick” victims. Honorable Judge Baker had a “Partner” in the trunk of her car the day she was killed in defense at the AM/PM Luke’s Arco on Terry Ln. a couple of years ago. I demanded that she open her trunk when I heard the victim in the trunk, and she did open the trunk, the “Partner” escaped, Lindi Baker was killed, and the entire AM/PM staff and the staff at Fred Meyer Gas Station all began an emergency hunt for the escaped “Partner” victim, who scurried away as I was fighting with Lindi Baker that day.

I don‘t think the “Partner” was able to find help. no one has questioned me about why the judge was killed at the AM/PM.

Harrison Ford is a carpenter. He built the “Partner” kennels that the Bakers used at one of their properties on Upper River Road. They have other property also at Lower River Road, and at a remote cabin on the Illinois River west of Selma Oregon.

Buck Baker is in charge of all of the trucking that happens around here, from Salem Oregon to the California border, if it’s in a big rig, Buck Baker made it happen. He is still producing “Partners” who are transformed at “The Pleasure Dome”, a subterranean secret terror experimental surgery center in Medford Oregon built by Bill Gates in the late 1980′s and early 1990′s. The place is beneath a neighbor hood of houses, is not visible, a multi billion dollar endeavor made possible by Bill Gates.

Study this account to learn more, including maps and details about the mustard gas that is used for keeping prying eyes away.

Let me try a more graphically offensive means to get some attention here:

Twitter news media might say this next bit is a “V-Shaped Recovery” if they can get in contact with the Dog Catcher in the area where the Partner escaped captivity and is running amok, out of control.

That Afghan Hound is close to some of the finished products of the Pleasure Dome. Peter Fonda’s “Partner” looks very similar to that dog. Peter Fonda’s Partner would be mistaken to be a dog, before anyone will consider that the dog is a human being.

Yes, I am dead serious about that.

Human, US Citizen Children go in one end of the machine, when they come out of the machine, they look like that dog, if that is what the SAG Card Holder specified on the custom order sheet, such as what Peter Fonda ordered.

I have spoken with Peter Fonda’s Partner person victim at the Bi-Mart in Grants Pass, where they have parties, many SAG Card Holders bring their partners, for watching them fight to the death and betting, or for a Partner Sex Party.

Weapons are taped to the Partners, they fight, or are killed for refusing.

===========================================

==========

Also at Monroe there seems to be some indication of “Clearwater”. There is a composting company called Clearwater, they are said to use sewage waste mixed with other organic waste, such as yard and brush, tree trimmings and such for making a soil amendment product. They are likely to be a source of “V-8″ or “Red Hydroseed” where human beings are but into a giant blender and mixed with water and seeds, to be sprayed onto the hillsides as ‘Erosion Abatement” for the Department of Transportation, done by state contractors for a profit at State tax payer expense.

Millions of US Citizens were put into the giant blenders alive, ground up into pulp at the Walmart parking lot during a fake construction project there in around 2001 or so. My brother was put into the blender, he was alive, I watched it happen, but that was in Arizona after I had been told to come to his funeral, he was not dead, until I arrived for the fucking funeral. There was nothing I could do to stop a enormous Christian terror army who are all bent on global domination in Biblical way.

Rendata is the force behind Clearwater.

There is another place called Jo-Grow, I suspect they are also in the V-8 Business. Those are all the same people who are building the Cascade Public Storage near the Club Northwest Gym. Jo-Grow is a Josephine county government company located at the former county land fill, is now a Transfer Station. Too dangerous to go anywhere near the old dump anymore.

So, information spelled out with rakes and pitchforks at Monroe’s seems to ask for “Clearwater”, and honestly I don’t know that Clearwater recycling is actually involved in the V-8, but, i suspect they are, and, it’s really not my job to do that kind of investigative work, I am an old disabled man with many spinal problems, and am poisoned by the people who seemingly are of a subject of interest, by people who are in contact with Monroe terror cell at 434 Jackpine. Have them go talk to the folks at Clearwater, or at Rendata of Merlin Oregon if you need investigating done at that level.

I do know quite a lot about Clearwire, a cellular company that was hijacked by Sprint in a fake merger, I was heavily invested in Clearwire and lost a lot of money when the shit did not work out the way the contract said it was supposed work

[metawitches]

Episode 6 of Stumptown is about ghosts. The characters work through their ghosts while the show tests out new character combinations and expands backstories.

After their falling out in episode 5, Dex and Grey both spend time with new love interests, causing other cast members to feel they’re being left behind. Ansel and Miles take steps to ensure their interests haven’t been forgotten. Dex takes a PI job that has her tracking down the stalker of an old flame.

Meanwhile, Tookie continues to have business issues with his food truck. This time he closes up and goes to visit the highest ranking member of the police force he knows, Lieutenant Cosgrove. This is a friendship I never knew I always wanted. They bond over their love of mole sauce  and experimental cuisine.

Dex gets a female love interest this episode, her former flame and punk rock star client, Fiona X. Meanwhile Detective Kara Lee makes a second appearance and this time she acts more like Miles’ police partner. The women of Portland do exist and it’s good to get to know them. But I’m still waiting for quality friendship time between women that isn’t between Dex and a woman she wants to have sex with or who’s a business associate.

I usually say the Bechdel test is a low bar to jump, but Stumptown is proving me wrong. Maybe the women on the show have technically had conversations about something other than men and relationships, but, for the umpteenth time, there are no female friendships on this show, despite the fact that it’s a show with a female lead.

Why not? Dex doesn’t hate other women. Why wouldn’t she and Ansel have female friends? Why are other women only love interests and business associates, as if Dex is a misogynist “man’s man”? And it’s not like the other women are getting scenes with each other, either.

Are they afraid a group of women will turn into a coven of powerful, scary witches?

In the minds of ABC and the writers, does bisexual, aka a woman willing to have sex with a woman, code as “might as well be a man”?

Recap

Dex and Miles are at the Labyrinth for a punk concert by Fiona X. Dex wanted to thank him for letting Grey go and introduce him to something she likes, while they relaxed after the tension of the last few weeks. Miles figured sex might be on the table, even though punk isn’t really his scene. Dex agrees that they both might get lucky after the show.

Fiona X starts the show with a song dedicated to the one who got away. She specifically namechecks Dex as the one. Awkward. Later, at his place, Miles asks how long Dex and Fiona dated. Dex tells him that they dated for 5 or 6 months, ten years ago, right after Dex got out of the military. Then Fiona got signed, went on tour, picked up the X (real name: Finklebocker), and Dex hasn’t seen her since.

Miles asks Dex out on Friday, but this time he wants to bring her into his world. His world inexplicably involves bowling shoes. Which he owns rather than rents.

I think we need to consider the theory that Miles is a time traveler from the 1950s.

Also, it’s become very clear why this good looking, decent guy, who has a steady income, is so, so single. Ladies, apparently the bowling alley is where you should be trying to meet men on Friday nights. Or maybe he’s just saving himself for Grey. YES, I SAID IT. WHERE IS MY FAN FICTION? Don’t make me write my own.

The next day at the bar, Grey wants to know all about Dex’s night out with Miles, but gets frustrated that she won’t spill all of the juicy details. She tells him that she doesn’t know who he is anymore, so she can’t trust him with the details of her sex life. He’s going to have to get his own sex life now.

At that moment, Fiona X struts into the bar, along with her full entourage, to give everyone’s sex life a little help. Fiona’s in town for three nights and wants Dex to act as PI and security that she can trust. She has a stealthy stalker who hangs on the fringes threateningly, but Fiona has never even gotten a good look at him before he melts back into the shadows. For that reason, her manager doesn’t take him seriously and she hasn’t gone to the police.

The health inspector finds a few violations in Tookie’s food truck and shuts him down until they’re rectified.

Grey talks to Ansel about his hidden past and if it going to come between them. Ansel is here to be an angelic, blonde disabled saint, the Tiny Tim of Portland, so of course he forgives Grey without a second thought. But Ansel, who has already been abandoned by his birth parents, is worried that this argument between Dex and Grey, his replacement mom and dad, is going to cause them to get a divorce and he’ll lose one of them.

Before Grey can reassure Ansel that he’ll always be his dad big brother friend, no matter what happenes with Dex, an intelligent brunette brings in a group of people on a tour of the most haunted bars of Portland. She tells Grey that 50 years ago, when the building was a cannery, a fishmonger named Dunk Henry was tragically killed in a sluicing accident. Grey is skeptical, until the tour guide, Liz Melero, points out how much new business she’s just brought him.

Ansel notices them flirting and isn’t happy about it. Mom and dad Dex and Grey may be platonic right now, but he knows they’re endgame.

At Fiona’s concert that night, Dex spots a man rushing the stage. She follows, while she’s having PTSD flashbacks, worried he’s the stalker, and tackles him before he reaches Fiona. He turns out to be innocent and Dex is blamed for ruining the show, which ends early. Fiona’s manager, Nick Tallarico, tells Dex that the stalker isn’t real, just a product of Fiona’s overactive imagination. He thinks Fiona just needs a friend.

Condescending much?

Det. Kara Lee, the detective who brought the files to Miles at his apartment last week, is back this week to help him with his lady troubles. But first, everyone needs to make sure we understand that he’s the superior detective and she’s a glorified secretary, there to further Miles story and nothing more.

Once she’s been put in her place professionally, Miles gives her the chance to be a good woman and give him advice on his dating life with Dex. She actually is a good detective, because she quickly figures out that one issue is that he and Dex aren’t on the same page as far as agreeing about whether they’re actually dating or just acquaintances who occasionally have sex. She tells him he has to use his words like a grown up when it comes to communicating with women.

I start to think that maybe I should actively be shipping Grey and Miles, rather than just tongue in cheek. These are two grown men who have no idea how to speak to women about what’s important, who had no problem talking about dating each other and communicated just fine when other men needed to be rescued. Maybe Dex isn’t the only bisexual character.

Tookie brings his problems with the health inspector to Lieutenant Cosgrove, hoping that dropping Dex’s name will help him. She supposedly doesn’t like Dex and has nothing to do with the permit offices he needs help with, but decides to talk to him anyway. They discover that she used to love the mole sauce that he made early in his career at Arturo’s Restaurant, until Arturo stole the credit for it and Tookie vowed never to make it again. Cosgrove has such fond memories of that mole sauce from the time when she’d first moved to Portland that she promises to help Tookie.

We’re just going to take this unlikely scenario at face value and move on.

When Dex is done with the manager, they go back to Fiona’s hotel room. Dex is impressed with how much nicer the hotel is than where Fiona used to stay. Dex clarifies that she’s a PI, not a bodyguard, which requires a whole different license. She intends to continue her investigation even if she’s with Fiona most of the time. Fiona clarifies that she wants to resume her relationship with Dex. Dex clarifies that she isn’t clear about what she’s doing with Miles.

Fiona wants 24 hour protection while they’re in town. She’s not sure where the next leg of the tour is going. Her manager keeps track of the logistics for her. Dex calls Grey to arrange for him to watch Ansel while she’s with Fiona. He teases her, but then apologizes.

Liz, the tour guide, comes back to the bar to see Grey again. Grey is happy to see her, but Ansel purposely drops a bottle of wine to show his displeasure.

Fiona and Dex drink and reminisce. Fiona reminds her that she considered getting a degree in psychology, which Dex had forgotten. Fiona remembers every little detail about Dex and their time together. Dex thinks about Fiona, too, whenever she sees her on TV.

A doorman brings an envelope that was dropped off at the hotel which contains a photo of Fiona and Dex in the hotel room. It had to be taken that evening. There’s a message written on the photo saying that Fiona is safe.

The next day, they take the photo to the police. Miles interviews Fiona while some cop-fans take souvenir photos. Fiona notes that the stalker could be a cop. They discuss any suspicious fan interactions Fiona’s had.

Fiona warns Miles that women like her and Dex are too much woman for him. He’d never be able to figure them out or keep up with them. He keeps her phone to look through her social media. She tells him to be careful, because some of her photos aren’t safe for work. Wink.

Lol. It only took her 5 minutes to get his number.

Tookie brings Cosgrove a special delivery of his famous mole recipe that he almost never makes anymore to thank her for her help with his permit extensions. The food takes her right back to the era when she’d just met her husband.

Back at their hotel, Dex suggests they change rooms, but Fiona thinks the stalker will just find her again. She has confidence in Miles’ competence.

After Miles put Kara in her place, I love how down on him Fiona is.

Fiona sings to Dex, then makes a move on her. Dex says that she could lose her license for sleeping with a client, but Fiona doesn’t think anyone will find out. They kiss.

One of the hotel room curtains is still open and they know the stalker was watching through these very windows the night before. This seems like a purposeful set up for blackmail material against Dex, maybe just on the part of the writers, maybe by the stalker or Fiona. We’ll find out in some future episode.

Kara fills Miles in on the stalker she found through her research into Fiona’s social media. Martin Newtlander had created multiple accounts, but analyzing language patterns showed they all belong to the same person. Miles and a uniformed cop visit the hotel room. Newtlander isn’t there, but a scope and a creepy shrine to Fiona are.

As Dex and Fiona lie in bed and enjoy the afterglow, Dex muses that this is what being on tour with Fiona would be like. They’re interrupted by Miles, who calls to fill Dex in on the stalker. She correctly guesses that he’s white, doughy and very alone.

Cosgrove brings one of her own specialties to Tookie’s truck for him to try, a Phillie cheesesteak eggroll with her own special touches. He’s skeptical, but gives it a try. He loves it so much that it inspires him to take the recipe even further. She gives him the go ahead to play with it.

Liz and Grey have spent the entire evening at Bad Alibi. Now that it’s closing time, Grey asks what comes next. Liz suggests some full moon activities, such as vampirism, but settles on radical honesty to jumpstart their relationship.

The women in Portland take no prisoners.

Grey is up for the challenge and reels off his basic history. After his recent past with Dex, he’s throwing a challenge back at Liz to see if she can handle his baggage.

I don’t think that Dex’s problem was his history so much as the fact that he lied about it, and she’s told him that. This time he’s going to be honest and put everything that might drive someone away out in the open right from the start.

Grey: “My Mom left when I was 6 years old.”

Liz: “I’m sorry.”

Grey: “I’m not. She wasn’t strong enough to save herself. And if you ever met my father, you’d understand. Is this too honest?”

Liz: “Actaully, I’ve never done this before.”

Grey: “My father was a crook, but he was low-rent. He was a hell of a teacher, though. By high school, I was making bank, stealing cars. But grand theft is a gateway crime and by 18, I was a boxman. There was not a safe I couldn’t get into. I did a few stints in prison and met some pretty bad dudes. And that’s actually how I got the money for this bar. Tell me what you’re thinking and be radically honest.”

Liz: “My place or yours.”

Grey tells her that he lives upstairs. Ansel drops an entire tray of silverware and walks away. Grey goes to talk to him.

Liz never confesses her radically honest life history.

When Dex and Fiona get to the concert venue they run into the stalker, Newtlander, in a hallway. He has a knife, so Dex sends Fiona to hide safely in an elevator while she subdues him. Newtlander insists that he’s the one protecting Fiona.

Once Miles has Newtlander in an interrogation room, the stalker still insists that he and Fiona are friends and that she asked him to protect her. He tells Miles to look in his hotel room for the letters he’s been exchanging with Fiona.

Miles gives Dex an update and brings up their Friday night date, but then decides that she probably has too much going on to get together.

Grey makes Liz his famous morning after eggs. Ansel catches them kissing at the breakfast table and questions why Liz is still there. He runs out of the room, upset that Grey is replacing Dex.

Dex stops by to see Fiona, who is very grateful that Dex is the one who rescued her. She wants to do drugs together to celebrate their victory, and calls Dex a bore when Dex says she doesn’t do drugs anymore. Dex’s phone rings before the argument can escalate.

It’s Grey, calling Dex to help with Ansel, who’s locked himself in the office. Back at the bar, Grey and Dex quickly fall into aguing over Ansel, Grey’s lies and their respective love lives. Ansel opens the door to make them stop. They all sit in the office for a family meeting.

Ansel wants to know if Grey is leaving the family, now that he and Dex don’t like each other anymore, just like his Mom and Dad left them. Grey is shocked by the question. He and Dex assure Ansel that Grey is part of the family, no matter what. Nothing is going to scare him away, no matter how mad anyone gets at anyone else.

😭😭😭 This right here is why Grey is endgame. He needs Ansel as much as he needs Dex, and Dex needs someone who understands that Ansel is the center of her universe, not them.

Dex gets called to the police station to finish up with the case. Grey tells her and Ansel that he’s still here, and it’s no problem for him to stay with Ansel. But he and Ansel both admit that dropping the tray of silverware was OTT.

Miles found a stack of letters from Fiona in the stalker’s hotel room, encouraging him to follow her. Dex figures out that it was Fiona’s manager who wrote the letters, not the singer herself. The stress of being stalked inspired her to write more intense songs for her album. Miles arrests the manager.

Fiona repeats her request for Dex to go on tour with her, and Dex suggests that Fiona take some time off and stay in Portland. Fiona gets a little insulting about Dex’s life, yet we’ve been shown all episode that Fiona doesn’t know where she is or where she’s going most of the time, she just goes from plane to hotel room to venue and it all looks the same. What would be in that life for Dex? More alcohol and drug abuse, when she’s just gotten her life together?

Tookie serves Cosgrove the new special on his menu: Tacos a la Cosgrove. They’re both married, so they agree this is just a friendly cooking collaboration. Cosgrove gets called back to work before she can eat her tacos, so she asks for them to go. But before she leaves, she tells Tookie that her friends call her Bobby.

Did we even know she has a first name?? I hope this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Grey and Liz have a picnic in a park and take the oportunity to clarify that Dex and Grey are just friends and Grey won’t let Dex or Ansel’s feelings dictate who he dates. Liz tells Grey that she understands why the thought of losing someone like Grey would be unsettling. He says that’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to him in a long time.

I hope she’s for real, but something about that conversation makes me worried that she’s been planted by Kane’s people. She didn’t even blink at Grey’s history and the first thing she did was talk about death. Now I feel like eventually he could be forced to choose between the Parios sibs and her, which would leave him more vulnerable to underworld influence. He was only rescued last week because of Ansel and Dex.

Dex gives bowling a try, even though she’s terrible at it and Miles is a bowling supernerd. He tells her he likes the game because, “No matter how badly you screw up, you always get a second chance.”

Okay, that was really sweet.

Commentary

In two weeks, Ansel has to suffer through the worst Thanksgiving ever. Someone send Mama Cosgrove and Tookie to rescue him.

Since when do rock concerts end because someone fell down or had to be carried out? Especially a punk show? The first clue that the manager is the culprit is the fact that he yells at Dex for doing her job as security.

I believe that tonight was the first time we saw Dex linger in bed after sex.

Fiona really cares about Dex. Dex had a thing for Candace Tapper, who is the same physical type as Fiona. Does Dex have a disappointingly mainstream and patriarchal preference for tall blondes, or did Candace remind her of Fiona?

I could handle Fiona becoming a recurring character and her relationship with Dex continuing. There was a warmth to their chemistry that Dex doesn’t have with Grey or Miles. They just have a lot lot of obstacles to overcome because of their different lifestyles, despite their strong feelings for each other.

Since Kara’s been alone with Miles in all of her scenes so far in this episode and the last, they all could have easily been shot and inserted into the episode after the rest of it was finished and they began to realize how few women there are in this show. (But hopefully I’m just paranoid.) Kara also gives Miles a chance to act superior to a woman at work after spending several episodes under Cosgrove’s thumb, and adds another person of color to the cast. She potentially resolves several notes from the network.

It’s Complicated

Did Kara Lee really have to say that she could set Miles up with someone who could take care of him in every way and wouldn’t play games? Miles might as well hire a hooker who’d wear an apron for him him. But then, Miles decided that Dex is playing games because she’s not all over him, despite her complete openness and honesty about their lack of a relationship.

He’s the one who said he liked complicated women. I don’t think that word means what he thinks it means. He seems to think it means it’ll take a few dates to get her to commit to a relationship and for her to let him save her.

What it really means, in this case, is that she’s in love with both a dead guy (Benny) and a living guy (Grey). And as it turns out, there’s a woman who got away, too. Dex has a big heart.

She doesn’t want to screw things up with the living guy and also mess up Ansel’s life, so she keeps it platonic. She’s bisexual, so when she dates outside her platonic relationship to get her sexual needs met, she dates men and women, but she’s not interested in anything serious.

She and Miles have sexual chemistry, but they don’t gel on a deeper level, the way Dex and Grey immediately did, or have many interests in common. He’s a good choice for a nonserious date.

So while Dex superficially appears messed up and potentially available, in fact, now that she has her PI license, Dex has her life together, knows who she is, and is taking some time to work through her emotional stuff. She does not need a man, or a woman, to save her. She’s busy.

Images courtesy of ABC.

Stumptown Season 1 Episode 6: Dex, Drugs and Rock & Roll Recap-Dex & Grey spend time with new love interests, causing Miles & Ansel to worry they're being left behind. Tookie & Cosgrove strike up a new friendship. #Stumptown Episode 6 of Stumptown is about ghosts. The characters work through their ghosts while the show tests out new character combinations and expands backstories.

[transssexualheart]

All

flower crown- when did you last sing to yourself?earlier today bc i was trying to learn the song on guitar

fairy lights- if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?do my friends actually love me

daisies- what is the greatest accomplishment of your life?honestly? not ending it lmao

1975- what is the first happy memory that comes to your mind, recent or otherwise?this is weirdly specific and not even particularly happy but i remember this one time when i was little it was late at night and my dad had been reading alice in wonderland to me beforehand and he had an apple that he was cutting into thin slices and eating it as he went and he would give me the slices because i was sitting next to him i don’t know why i even consider it a happy memory

matte- if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?i’m not sure. i think i might just kill myself before it happened lmao because the ideal would be “do things that make me happy and be happy before i go”, but doing certain things aren’t going to make me happy, what will make me happy is years of work towards that happiness so what would be the point of still living if i knew that i only had a year to be happy because i will not make it to happiness in time

black nail polish- do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things?i don’t have one

pantone- describe a person close in your life in detail.wow this made me realize i’m not really that close to many people. anyway no

moodboard- do you feel you had a happy childhood?lol no my parents divorced when i was too young to remember them originally deciding to get divorced, they were fighting for custody for at least a year, my dad died when i was eight, a lot of shit went down

stars- when did you last cry in front of another person?does crying in the same room as someone else but it being dark count? because if so that was just last month

plants- pick a person to stargaze with and explain why you picked them.whomst the fuck do yall think and why lmao

converse- would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them?only if we probably would never see each other again

lace- when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you?i can’t remember when but sometime this summer and probably with you 

handwriting- if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one person, what would you say and to whom?not to be a cheesy motherfucker but “i love you” and probably to u bc like, i would be dying

cactus- what is your opinion on brown eyes?i have them and i used to hate them, but after seeing a lot of love for them i hate mine less

sunrise- pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally.shit i can’t think of one

oil paints- what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?An Absolute Shit Show

overalls- what would you do with a billion dollars? in the future use it to pay for meds and therapy and a nice college and constantly spoil my friends and spoil myself kinda bc honestly anyone that says you’ll donate it ALL is a big liar don’t act like you aren’t gonna buy some nice sweaters beforehand, and donate to ppl who need money like u kno those posts that are like “help a trans disabled woman leave her abusive home” i would throw my money around at those and other such good causes that i believe in

combat boots- are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way?i’m not sure? i mean if someone fucks me over and never apologizes then no i won’t forgive them but if someone makes a mistake that they recognize as a mistake and apologizes for it then i will forgive them 

winged eyeliner- write a hundred letter word to your twelve year old self.hey. i would really like to say to you that things have gotten so much better but they haven’t really. but here’s the thing. you have a therapist now and you don’t fight with your mom and stepdad as much because you figured out how to stay out of it. you have a friend that supports you and loves you and will do her best for you, which is exactly the friend that you’re probably being a dick to right now so cut that shit out. my point is, you’ll get worse. but you’ll start to get better. it’s okay.

pastel- would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel?fashion wise? probably pastel

tattoos- how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain.i have two tattoos and i want more, i would love piercings but i’ll probably get them infected.

piercings- do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not?i do, because it makes me feel more confident and it’s fun

bands- talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way.i don’t think i really have one 

messy bun- the world is listening. pick one sentence you would tell them.“i’m gay”

cry baby- list the concerts you have been to and how they made you feel.i’ve only been to two and neither were life changing or any of that, i saw twenty one pilots and the 1975 and both were fun 

grunge- who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?idk man

space- do you have a desk/work space and how is it organized/not organized?i have a desk for my computer and it’s covered in random shit like dead batteries and candy wrappers

white bed sheets- what is your nighttime routine?get in bed, turn off lights, don’t fall asleep for another three hours due to my depression keeping me up at night

old books- what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know?everything

beaches- if you had to dye your hair, how would you dye/style it and why?dye it pink bc i wanna and i can’t really style my hair its too short

eyes- pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do?what the FUCK is that

11:11- name three wishes and why you wish for them.to be happy, to be loved, and to not be made out to be a freak by cis ppl for obvious reasons

painting- what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up. idk i guess last years bc i styled a wig with hairspray and everything

lighting- what’s the worst thing you have ever done while drunk or high?ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY SIX TEXTS SENT TO SARAH FROM ONE TO TWO AM, A LOT OF SHIT ABOUT HER BEING PRETTY AND NOTHING BEING REAL

thunder- what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars?become a racist shit bag

storms- you can only listen to one song for the rest of your life, or only see one person for the rest of your life. which and why?oooh man hard choice. i would have to go with one person bc if i can only listen to one song how will i play piano or guitar but if i can only not see the person i can still have other friends by calling or texting

love- have you ever fallen in love? describe what it’s like to realize you’re in love.i have, here we goit feels like being hit by something hard and fast. because what the fuck? suddenly you miss this person too much. more than you used to and more than you know you should and it makes sense because you’ve been thinking about them all day but it still doesn’t make sense because why is this happening why did things just change like this. and it feels weird and new but in a good way, and you like that breathless feeling and the way your chest feels like it’s going to explode and you can’t stop smiling even though you know you’re so fucked because you feel alive and in love and it’s everything and suddenly all the music you listen to makes you feel like you’re in a movie and everything seems so perfectly fucked up and you like it whether you want to or not

clouds- if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair?i’m a boy and i would rock that nail polish i’ve done it before and i’ll do it again

coffee- what’s your starbucks order and who would you trust to order it for you, if anyone? i’ve never had starbucks

marble- what is the most important thing to you in your life right now?whomst the fuck do u think

i can always rely on u to ask me shit thank u

[solivar]

WIP: Ghost Stories On Route 66

aka the one time I tried writing get-Hipsto-a-leather-clad-boyfriend PWP fic and it starts growing a plot and before I can restrain it it’s a full blown art-student-meets-charming-leather-clad-NPS-ranger AU and, yes, this is all the fault of @gunnslaughter 

The cheapass rental car’s motivator sputtered and died for the last time on some officially unnamed, only dubiously mapped road in the hills southwest of Santa Fe. Fortunately, the antigrav batteries had just enough charge left in them that the whole thing didn’t just drop onto the cracked and weathered remains of the pavement, which probably would have done enough damage to render his life a miserable morass of insurance forms and impecunious college student special pleading for the foreseeable future. Unfortunately, when it did drop, once he got out and half-pushed, half-steered it to the side of the road, it promptly buried itself up to the axles in the drifted sand making up most of the verge, listing rather definitely to one side.

“Fuck,” Hanzo Shimada informed the universe at large and went to pop open the hood.

He was greeted by a malodorous cloud of steam that stank rather noticeably of vaporized coolants, accompanied by a deep and rather alarming bubblebubbleticktickpTANG from deep inside the motivator’s mechanical workings. To his admittedly untrained ear, it sounded like the thing was about to a) explode, b) rupture all its previously air/liquid-tight fittings, c) fall completely out of the compartment, or d) all of the above. He let the hood fall shut, gently, because he emphatically did not want to do anything to encourage any of those outcomes and got out his phone to call for help.

He had no bars of connection. In the distance, he heard the universe laughing in a rather distinctly malicious, mocking fashion.

“It’s all right,” Hanzo told himself, out loud, because the sound of his own voice on this dusty, not-particularly-traveled-at-all stretch of almost-road gave him an inordinate degree of comfort as the shadow of a circling vulture fell across him. “It is all right. It’s 3:42. If I’m not home by six, six-thirty at the absolute latest, Genji will call the state highway patrol and tell them that his idiot brother drove off into the desert that morning to draw pictures of the death of human civilization and it’s Friday and and and Genji is going to spend the next seventy-two hours deeply chemically altered, slathered in psychotropic massage oil, and twisted into some kind of semi-Tantric love pretzel in his Yoga instructor’s lap and you are going to die of exposure and dehydration if you don’t start walking right now. I am such an idiot.”

The trunk contained his jacket, his backpack, a first aid kit, an emergency crank flashlight, a spare antigrav pod, a set of jumper cables, and four triangular road reflectors with onboard distress transponders that, when he tested them for charge, turned out to be as dead as the engine. He set them up, nonetheless, on the off chance that something might come along the road that would need to see his disabled vehicle well enough to avoid hitting it. The first aid kit contained a handful of loose biotic-impregnated bandages of various sizes, some sterile saline wound wipes, a pair of nitrile gloves, and, thankfully, an emergency shock blanket. That and the flashlight went into the backpack along with the remainder of his own supplies: three sketchbooks, a set of watercolor pencils, the highish quality camera he always carried to help with shot composition references back in the studio, a spare flannel shirt, one and a half bottles of water from the eight pack he’d carried into the desert that morning, and the apple and protein bar that he’d decided to save for later when he sat down to eat lunch in the shadow of a rusted out hulk of formerly intelligent and self-directed machinery. He put the flannel on over his tee-shirt and the jacket on over both, because the sun would be down in forty-five minutes, an hour at most, and once that happened it was going to be cold. And he, of course, did not have a single pair of gloves stashed in any of his pockets.

Still. Before the GPS had punked out, along with the engine, it had indicated following this road north would, eventually, lead back to the non-dead sort of civilization. The sort that contained reasonably accessible hot showers with which to wash away sandy grit still stained ashen and venti nonfat chai lattes with which to chase away various sorts of cold and also, in theory, people way, way more responsible than his brother, whom he passive-aggressively hoped was enjoying his tetrahydrocannabinol enhanced love-nest, the rotten little bastard.

After the first hour of walking, he stopped checking his phone every ten minutes to see if he had connection. Not only did he not have connection, glancing down at his screen killed his night vision, which made walking down even the middle of an untravelled stretch of highway an exercise in trying not to trip, break an ankle, or otherwise render himself incapable of moving effectively in the direction of his own rescue. The road surface hadn’t been maintained in years, possibly decades, maybe even before the Crisis, and it was zig-zagged with inches-deep cracks driven even deeper and further apart by endless cycles of freeze and thaw, parts of the roadbed lifted high enough to be a transit hazard for antigrav vehicles much less pedestrians walking in the near-total dark, others depressed in a way that suggested impact craters more than the natural erosion of time and indifference. As the last of the color bled off the western horizon, he paused long enough to give the emergency flashlight a good long cranking and found, even so, that its light was wan and dim, at best, but infinitely better than nothing, waiting for moonrise, or running his phone battery to death. After the second hour of walking, the darkness was no longer near-total, it was absolute in the way it could only be in the complete absence of all but the smallest traces of man-made light. On the one hand, it was stunning: the sky overhead was clear and cloudless, unmarred by light pollution, and the stars shone brilliantly in that velvety arch, a hundred million silvery eyes gazing benevolently down in their serene and distant celestial majesty. On the other hand, being the sole source of man-made light in the middle of the otherwise unrelieved blackness made him rather feel like he was being observed by things far less celestial and benevolent, considerably closer to the ground, and far more intent on running him to ground and gnawing the flesh off his bones. Occasionally, the flashlight imparted to him glimpses of sulfurous yellow-green eyes glittering just out of easy visibility, alarming enough in their predatory silence that only the chancy footing kept him from speeding up his stride. Not running. That would be bad. But walking with a bit more enthusiasm.

Sometime during the third hour, the wind picked up, scouring across the high desert floor and carrying with it hissing currents of sand and icy pellets that were neither snow nor sleet but a little bit of both. The sky clouded over, taking even the distant comfort of starlight, and he pulled out the emergency blanket and wrapped it around him to help retain some body heat. Somewhere in the middle of hour four, he pulled out his phone and, discovering himself still without connection, opened up his recording app and began dictating the please-don’t-blame-yourself message he’d been writing in his head for at least the last forty minutes so that, when his coyote-gnawed carcass was eventually found by the authorities, the hormones-and-namaste addled little dumbass he called his only family worth having would at least not feel bad about it.

By the time the lights wavered into view in the distance, he had officially stopped counting the hours. He had also officially stopped having any appreciable sensation in his hands, and his feet, and his legs were only making themselves known because his thighs hated him and wanted him to fall over and be eaten by coyotes so they could at least peacefully rest in the process of digestion. In fact, it took him quite some time to realize that he wasn’t hallucinating the vista before him which was, in fact, two strings of full-sized light bulbs strung between the side of the road, where they were attached to a pair of old fashioned utility poles, and from there to each side of an overhanging porch roof.

A house, Hanzo’s almost inexpressibly cold and weary brain realized after a long moment of staring dully, trying to make sense of what it was seeing. A house with lights. Actual working lights. There are lights on both inside and outside that house. It is a house. Lights. People. A PHONE.

He trudged slowly off the road and up the path -- the path which was lined in white-washed rocks and little beds of succulents which may or may not have been cared for, he couldn’t quite tell -- and from the path up the porch stairs, which extracted a price from his knees that he was sure he’d be hearing about for days, at least. Tucking the blanket under his arm in an effort to look slightly less pathetic, he raised a hand and knocked in what he hoped was a firm but non threatening manner on the heavy old unwindowed door.

In his mind, the response seemed to take forever: movement, footsteps, the curtains in the window next to the door moving slightly while he locked his knees and wavered slightly on his feet, tired and cold and trying not to shiver too visibly. Then: the door creaked, the light next to it came on, and he found himself gazing directly at someone’s collarbones, around the crack of a barely opened door. “Can I help you?”

Someone was tall -- taller than himself by a good head, eyes dark and narrowed slightly, expression not particularly welcoming. Well, he supposed he could hardly blame someone living in the middle of the desert miles from any other humans for not being particularly happy to have one turn up uninvited on his doorstep in the middle of the night. “Hello -- my apologies, I saw your lights and -- “ The ability to think in coherent sentences momentarily skittered away, laughing mockingly. “Listen, my car broke down back that way and -- “ He gestured vaguely over his shoulder in the direction he had just come, “I’ve got no connection on my cell and I was really just wondering if you could just...borrow your phone for a minute to call a tow? I’ll just be on my way then and -- “

“That way.” The door opened more fully with a labored creak and Someone stepped out, glanced both ways, and then looked at him, expression going from moderately suspicious to moderately appalled between one breath in the next. “You’re from the city. Holy Hell.”

“How can you tell?” Hanzo asked, genuinely curious and borderline hypothermic all at once.

“Your student ID’s hanging out of your jacket pocket,” Someone observed perspicaciously and threw open the door. “Get in here before you freeze to death. How long have you been walking?”

“I...don’t know? A while.” The warmth inside enfolded him like an embrace and it was all he could do to control the urge to moan. A fire burned in an actual honest-to-gods fieldstone fireplace in one corner of the trim little sitting room and a gentle hand in the small of his back steered him toward it, and the couch sitting a safe distance back from the spark guard.

Those same hands divested him of his backpack and the emergency blanket, both of which went on a chair nearby, pushed him down into the couch’s soft cushions and spread a far thicker and warmer blanket over him. “You’re almost blue. Stay under the blanket and warm up while I get you something to drink. And don’t close your eyes, okay? Just until I’m sure you’re -- “

And that was, in fact, the last thing Hanzo heard before he totally closed his eyes and drifted off into a pleasingly warm darkness.

*

Hanzo woke up suddenly and all at once. His mouth tasted like something small and innocent had crawled inside it in the night, died a slow and terrible death, and then rotted into putrescence, the results of which were coating his tongue, his cheeks, and every single one of his teeth. His head was throbbing with the sort of headache that could only be described as skullfucking, centered as it was directly behind his left eye. These things were, however, not what jarred him from an otherwise satisfyingly deep and mostly painless slumber. Rather it was the smell, coming from somewhere quite nearby, cooking smells, outrageously wonderful cooking smells, smells that caused his stomach to roll over, remind the rest of him that the apple and protein bar had been a long time ago, and it was time to get in gear and remedy that fact more or less immediately.

He cautiously opened the eye that didn’t feel like it was being stabbed by a red-hot spiked dildo of agony and found himself looking up at a gently arched ceiling, dark open wood ribs and whitewashed plaster, a darkened chandelier light fixture hanging almost directly overhead. The light leaking in through the still mostly-drawn curtains didn’t punish his head more than it had to, and so he opened the other eye, as well, rubbing the involuntary tearing away with the back of his hand. A fire still burned low in the fieldstone fireplace -- a kiva, his brain supplied the information, organically rounded all the way up the wall and through, sculpted with a pair of little niches higher on the flue, a mantle over top and a spark guard high enough off the floor to function as a seat on its own, covered in a gorgeously colorful geometric mosaic. One niche had a tiny pot in it containing an equally tiny flowering cactus; the other a polished wooden sculpture of a horse rearing on its hind legs. Most of the furniture was honest-to-gods old, dark wood not the new-synthetic-realistically-aged stuff, he could smell it, spicy and rich as the lingering tang of the woodsmoke, covered in cushions upholstered in the sort of patterns he’d become intimately familiar with during his Native Textile Arts of the Desert Southwest elective two semesters ago. The area rug right under the little coffee table, too, upon which sat a clear glass pitcher containing a substance too vividly red-orange to be natural, an empty glass, two small white tablets and three large tan ones, and a note that read drink two glasses when you wake up and take the meds, you’re going to need them.

Moving slowly, oh so slowly, slow as a slow-ass thing to avoid aggravating his body more than he had to, Hanzo sat up and slid his legs over the side of the couch. His legs, which were no longer clad in his own jeans but rather a pair of dark olive greenish sweatpants. A small part of his brain thought he should be loudly and extravagantly upset by this development; a substantially larger part was loudly and extravagantly grateful that he hadn’t slept in a pair of pants that he’d spent all day hiking across the desert, and then walking for an unknown length of time up a deserted road, in. The socks also felt comfortably soft and clean and new rather than caked in sweat and sand. So did the tee-shirt, which he noted was a pale tan with a somewhat darker patch in the shape of a roughly shaped arrowhead, point down, washed almost completely away on the left. Hanzo decided that he owed his rescuer something loud and extravagant, though he wasn’t quite sure what just yet.

The unnaturally vivid beverage tasted like what would happen if a citrus fruit fucked a salt lick and the resulting offspring were subsequently captured and juiced for their vital fluids. It was simultaneously repellent and delicious and he gulped down three glasses of it before he remembered he had medicine yet to take. The pills turned out to be a pair of regular aspirin and probably some kind of vitamins and by the time he got them all down someone somewhere quite close by had begun whistling and the delicious-food-cooking smells had reached the scent equivalent of a crescendo and Hanzo’s stomach made a long, embarrassingly loud noise of dismay over the fact that he wasn’t yet eating. One that apparently carried because the whistling suddenly stopped and an unseen voice, vaguely familiar, asked, “Mr. Shimada? Are you awake?”

Firmly throttling his shame, Hanzo cleared his throat. “Yes -- I just woke up a few minutes ago.” It was on the tip of his tongue to ask how his rescuer new his name but then he saw his wallet, his Santa Fe University of Art and Design student ID on its brick red lanyard, and the keys to the goddamned POS rental car that was the author of all his most recent woes sitting on the coffee table and solved the mystery for himself. “Give me a second and I’ll -- “

He heaved himself to his feet -- or, rather, he attempted to heave himself to his feet and, in that instant, every muscle in his legs and lower back registered their displeasure with his continued existence immediately and simultaneously and it was all he could do not to crash directly into the table as he fell. “....ow.”

“Oh no.” Footsteps rapidly approached from somewhere beyond the back of the couch. “Easy there, sugar. Let me help you up.”

A pair of warm, strong hands came to rest on him and, in relatively short order, they got him warmly and strongly relocated back off the floor and into a reasonably comfortable sitting position on the couch in a nest of colorfully patterned wool blankets. Hanzo found himself looking upon his rescuer for the first time in decent lighting and for a moment any and all coherent thoughts fled his head because he looked like what would happen if the Marlboro Man had sex with a male romance novel cover model who subsequently gave birth to the Platonic ideal of ruggedly handsome, all shaggy brown hair and sunkissed dark skin and eyes only a shade or two off true black and a slow spreading smile surrounded by a beard that clearly had some attention paid to it in the name of manscaping because otherwise Romance Novel Cover Dad would have disowned him. Hanzo knew people who’d commit a number of serious criminal acts just to look at those cheekbones and that jawline, much less possess them so effortlessly and he was staring. He was completely staring. Hopefully he wasn’t drooling and staring, because that would be the actual and entire end of his existence, and all of his rescuer’s efforts would be for naught as he ran off into the desert to bury his shame. A voice that sounded suspiciously like his mother’s was screaming in the back of his mind about manners, manners, what was wrong with him and another, that sounded even more suspiciously like Genji, was offering tips and tricks on how to recover this situation and turn it into the world’s smoothest not-damsel-in-only-mild-to-moderate-distress pass but he’d have to open his mouth right now.

“Hello,” Hanzo croaked. “Er. I’m sorry. Thank you?”

“No apologies necessary,” The offspring of gorgeous manly perfection replied, flashing an easy, and apparently quite sincere, smile. “And it’s no trouble at all. How’re you feeling?” He flicked a glance at the mostly-empty pitcher. “I’ll get you more to drink, and somethin’ to eat, in just a second. But first I need to ask you a few questions, all right?”

Hanzo nodded wordlessly.

“What’s your name, darlin’?” Warm and gentle and kind, with the sort of charmingly encouraging smile that got people suffering from shock to come around much more slowly just so he’d keep providing it.

For an instant, Hanzo could not actually remember his own name. “Ah -- Hanzo. Hanzo Shimada.”

“Hanzo. That’s a pretty name. Unusual.” More of that gentle, encouraging smile. “Where do you come from, Hanzo?”

“Hanamura. Japan.” It took him far, far longer than it should have to remember that and he chose to blame some combination of lingering fatigue and skullcracking headache pain for that. “I’m attending college in Santa Fe right now and I’m planning to permanently immigrate at some point in the future.”

“Why Santa Fe?” He sounded genuinely curious.

“Because it’s as far as I could get from Hanamura while still residing on the same planet.” Hanzo replied, honestly. “And my school also gave me a pretty sweet scholarship.”

“Understandable.” The gently encouraging smile slid into a more sternly serious expression and Hanzo’s heart began fluttering around inside his chest in a way that suggested some sort of tragic cardiac event was about to unfold. “So am I safe in assuming that pretty tattoo of yours is not actually an indicator of the sort of gang involvement that’d require me to call the Santa Fe police and the Department of Homeland Security border enforcement office?”

Hanzo’s heart stopped fluttering around. In fact, his heart pretty much stopped, and it was all he could do to open and close his mouth wordlessly for what felt like forever but was probably only a small slice of forever. “No,” he finally managed to get out, as his rescuer’s eyebrows began inclining slightly. “It’s not.”

His rescuer regarded him steadily for a moment, as he fought with the urge to try and sink through the cushions of the couch and possibly through the floor and hopefully to the center of the Earth, where his lack of long sleeved concealment options would be hidden forever. Then he smiled again, quick and bright, and stood up, and for the first time Hanzo noticed he was also wearing a tannish tee-shirt with an arrow over his heart, only his wasn’t washed mostly away and contained a pine tree, a snow-covered mountain, a white buffalo, and the words National Park Service, also in white.

“You’re a ranger?” Hanzo asked -- which, of course, explained a lot, explained pretty much everything, up to and including living in the middle of nowhere and looking like the anthropomorphic personification of rugged masculinity and being willing to rescue randomly occurring strangers in the night. It was his job.

“Jesse McCree, ranger-in-residence of Cerrillos National Monument, technically legal population one, three if you count the old hippie couple that lives on the other side of town, seven if you count their dogs.” He offered his hand and his grip was as impossibly strong and perfect as the rest of him. “Let me get you a plate and then we can talk about how you came to be here and see what we can do about it.”

*