#oh one is for permanent traits and one is for temporary things

[karalynlovescake]

All of my mistakes about using ser vs estar are due to autism

[generouskittentidalwave]

Astro boy reboot, oh boy

So news of the new Astro boy reboot series broke out like WILD FIRE and as I predicted the fandom that has been waiting so long for it is very worried of how it'll turn out

But honestly

I'm actually quite hyped for it.

They removed the Miraculous creator from working on it which is a great start in my book THANK THE HEAVENS. Secondly I don't mind Astro having a girl he has feelings for at 9 as that happened in the 80s version and it was genuinely very sweet (ya know until she was found out to be a bomb and the two had to heartbreakingly seperate by her needing to be taken apart which destroyed the fandom's hearts). And he had plenty of crushes over the years so I'm not phased by it.

The only thing I hope for is that they don't make her human, because the problem with a robot child being together with a normal human child is the fact that she can age and he can't as he is permanently stuck with the mind and body of a 9 year old, so OOOO THAT RELATIONSHIP WILL BE *BAD* IN THE LONG RUN IF THEY MAKE THE RELATIONSHIP A PERMANENT THING AND NOT TEMPORARY.

Now to talk about some other things, I am actually really excited for the plot. It's a very slept on plot on the idea that Astro has to keep his robot identity secret from others to blend in as human and sometimes not even discovering he is a robot himself till later as usually unless told or shown otherwise Astro is mistaken to be a normal human child. That idea of self discovery and finding about who you are, who can from, and who you decide to be is a core trait for Astro and I find the plot as a cool way to show that.

And speaking of which, the elephant in the room. Tobio. By the looks of the plot it makes it known that Astro is gonna have the hero name be Astro when he is fighting and will most likely be called Atom by others AND I HOPE I PRAY TEZUKA GOD OF MANGA YOU BETTER HELP HERE I HOPE that they actually keep in and address the fact that Astro/robot Tobio is a robotic replacement by a father gone mad of his 9 year old dying in a tragic car accident as it's a CORE part of his character. The implication that robot Tobio has been living as a replacement in this series and is discovering himself and who he truly is by becoming Astro would be SO COOL

Lastly, the cgi, ima be honest it looks pretty decent. I like the way it looks as we could've gotten something so much worse if it was animated like Miraculous believe me. It looks bright, cartoony and colorful which ppl associate with it causing stir for it being aimed towards kids but the original Astro boy was also aimed towards kids in that same goofy cartoon style. What made it memorable was the story, the meaning, how a goofy and silly looking manga who could hold such darkness and truth and bringing to light deep societal and human issues while dealing with the inner turmoil of a boy trying to find out who he truly is beyond what he was made for. That he isn't a replacement, that he isn't just a robot. So as long as they are able or atleast TRY to hit that mark, then that's what matters to me more than the style.

In conclusion, it's just the pitch idea mind you, just a summed up concept. Everything is subject to be changed and tweaked as things get made and processed. For all we know it could end up being something completely different. The fandom has a reason to be on edge but we should be atleast a bit more open minded towards it until we see it in action it might not be another 2003 but it's definetly no 2009. And as for the ones working on it with both Tezuka productions and the fandom holding them at gunpoint over a series we've waited nearly a decade for, that better encourage them to give out one hell of a series.

Also Tenma and Oshan better be the same divorced science dads we all know and love or I swear to god-

[icepoptroll]

funny story; initially sent this ask to the wrong blog. anyways, at the risk of sounding ignorant, what's the nose apparatus ocean has in your art? is it a temporary thing because of her lung damage, or something she has for life?

Oh hi!

I basically draw her with that if I'm doing something based on my nurse Karnak AU. It's called a nasal cannula and it's basically one of several means of oxygen delivery (like an oxygen mask but it allows for better ease of talking, eating, etc) and it's connected to a portable oxygen concentrator.

The way I see it the lung damage resulting from the accident would be permanent and it's part of the reason she would shift her focus in life and start learning to sort of "see the forest for the trees." I draw this AU version of her a lot because so far I've written a lot with her in it and she's just been so much fun to slowly develop. She's learning a lot of important stuff (like that 'disability' isn't a dirty word, she should have truly cared about other people's struggles before they became her own, etc) while also keeping my favorite traits of hers (her tenacity, her competitive edge, her chatterbox nature lmao). So I don't know I guess when I was initially figuring out how the accident would have affected everyone this image of her came to me right away and I've been using it ever since!!

Thanks for the ask, friend!!

[irkendogma]

was thinking about social behavior/cliques/bullying in irkens again and honestly still vibing with some shit rambled on discord a while back

oh 100% agreed on holdovers from the pre-pak era! it's just that they'd probably be a lot less, cliquey? than they are in humans, because the things the pak removes are the primary things that group humans into socioeconomic cliques like irkens don't have generational wealth because they don't have generations. you don't end up with any groups that all tend to share the same values, ideals, and experiences as a result of upbringing in a shared family setting, and as a result there are no greater oligarchy-esque bonds between such groups because irkens are born entirely separate from others, no preexisting strings attached it's like how wolf packs made of unrelated individuals vs related individuals will behave completely differently - the point of gossip is to designate an "other", which implies that the one being gossiped to is a member of an "ingroup". gossip would certainly be possible among irkens but even in a setting with social factors to weigh it would likely be less conspiratorially nasty because no irken can guarantee themselves part of a specific ingroup (outside of the broad category of height, even within which you're not guaranteed other shared traits or mindsets) in terms of social worldbuilding, i've found one of the most important things to ask is "what is the societal path of least resistance?" - the easiest, lowest-effort option for any given individual to take. in humans, that path is frequently to stick to the ingroups that you are automatically sorted into by birth and upbringing, which facilitates discrimination between ingroups, but to an irken lacking groups to be born into it would take active effort to find a group, especially against irken ideas of bonds as unnecessary and unwanted, and so while it would certainly be possible for irkens to form cliques it would likely be far less common than in humans just because statistically far less irkens are likely to not only take that option but succeed in taking that option i imagine clique stuff would be more situational and temporary than having a permanent group someone sticks to? like a classroom dogpiling the target of a joke even if they have little shared or in common beyond finding the joke funny and the bullying entertaining height is probably the most common factor spurring things on - we DO see irkens bullied by a group for being short. like red and purple publicly humiliate skoodge in front of the whole crowd in the nightmare begins and in hobo 13 bob being forced to bet more money than he'll ever make is a public spectacle in the gambling lounge i think the main difference between that and human bullying would just be that it doesn't often happen very discreetly, there's unlikely to be any social consequences for being openly dickish like there are in humans if someone is judged to have crossed a line, i'd say the closest you get is the target themselves not being aware of it so they can't retaliate but in most scenarios where retaliation isn't an option anyway the mockery occurs pretty openly like i think zim is the target of less open mockery because of his history of destroying things meaning that he IS crazy or stupid enough to try retaliating even to his own overall detriment if he understands what's going on, but most of the time with someone that short i'd bet it'd be more in line with bob or skoodge's treatment

[gameminds]

One of the beautiful things about magic is that it efficiently breaks all of the conceptual spaces that the game is played within into discrete zones of play; from your self-known, hidden, available, undeclared, timed interaction space (your hand) to the perpetual and typically stateless and untimed exile zone.

One of the advents of the Hearthstone era has been new perspective on how to organize these philosophical spaces and exchange traits between them. With hearthstone, perpetual off-battlefield effects and the mana system come to mind. But an even easier example is Trap Cards in Yu Gi Oh, and the semi-equivalent Morph ability in magic. They are "the same" within a specific niche in a specific context, but wildly different because the context is almost always so so different. I've always enjoyed thinking about what kinds of foundational changes, like the updates to the Stack and Battlefield, could happen in magic.

I can imagine Battle cards change the mechanics behind combat and/or creature abilities. I would assume that they're similar to 'plane' cards from planechase, but with a more limited scope;

"after each player's first combat step, that player takes an additional combat step"

or

"players with more than 5 toxic counters lose the game" or "creatures deal damage to other creatures in the form of -1/-1 counters"

or

"for each mana in the activation cost of a creature's ability, that ability's controller may pay 2 life instead"

The more I think about it, the more I think that Battle cards are likely to be instant/sorcery type temporary effects that last for more than one instance or turn. There's a sort of missing space for "enchantment-type" effects that aren't glued to a permanent or are transient.

So I'm thinking there's gonna be Battle type cards that interact with a new game space that contains perpetual effects. Like planechase, playing a new Battle card would have impacts on the current Battle and creatures in play.

Is there any information you can give us about Battle the new card type? Like what set it will debut in

There's not anything more I can say yet about battles. It was exciting to work on a new card type and I'm excited for you all to see it in a future set. : )

[greys-flags]

Term idea: Idiosynth

Idiosynthing: The action of quickly adopting personality traits from others in such a way that it causes major, noticeable (to yourself or others) changes to your own personality, mannerisms, way of talking, etc. Often temporary, but can be permanent. Created with people with BPD and autism in mind, but can be used by anyone that feels like they experience it

Idiosynth:

The verb describing this action; to idiosynth

The noun to describe who you're masking with; an idiosynth

May also be shortened to "synthing" or "to synth." "Idios" for the noun form might be used as well, though unfortunately it's very close to the term "idiot" and may be misunderstood

Pronounced id-ee-oh-sinth or eed-ee-oh-sinth, either is fine

Example

Say that you as a person are typically a timid, self-deprecating person. You often avoid others and feel bad about the things you do. Most of your friends know this about you, and can recognize when you're feeling especially down, as you tend to isolate yourself.

Those friends invite you to a movie night, and your brain instantly connects with one of the characters in movie. They're incredibly charismatic, bubbly, friendly, and confident. While you watch the movie, part of you changes, and afterwards you find yourself talking more like that character, growing more confident in yourself, and becoming less timid. You put more time into being the first one to message your friends or invite them to things; you find yourself having less desire to be alone for a time.

A few weeks later, you've started shedding these traits and going back to your "usual self," as those self-deprecating thoughts creep back in and you find yourself taking more and more time to be alone. You've stopped engaging with that movie and the fandom around it, which has dried up your mind's immediate interest in that character, and you find yourself no longer acting the same way as them.

That's the kind of experience this term is describing: taking on traits that others have to the point where it completely changes how you act. It can make you meaner, kinder, shyer, more confident... The exact traits will change depending on the person you're synthing from, and they can be positive or negative.

Origin

From the Greek word ίδιος (idios), meaning one's self or belonging to one's self. This was chosen as idiosynthing is often a very personal thing that changes what might feel like your very being, often due to personality and identity confusion that comes with being ND

Synthing is a shortening of synthesizing, referring to the action of synthesizing different traits from people and taking them on yourself

The term is also similar to idiosyncrasy, or behaviors and thought patterns that are often unique to a person. This experience can change your idiosyncrasies to be those of another person, or may lead you to taking on others' in addition to your own

History

There's probably a few terms out there describing this, but I don't think I've found them yet. The closest I've gotten is constelic, which I do also identify with, but I wanted a term that had less ties to kin or alterhuman communities (which: it's not a kin term, but, still) and was more focused on the ND part of it. There's also the fact that this doesn't necessarily change how you identify so much as how you behave or express yourself, and what constitutes your personality rather than identity

As someone with BPD, autism, and DID, my brain often looks at fictional villain characters and "steals" traits from them, whether that means the way they talk, the way they move, the way they treat others, etc. This isn't something I can control and it's incredibly hard to stop once it starts- I usually have to wait it out and avoid that piece of media for a while. Sometimes getting back into it or being reminded of it will get my brain going again, but at that point it's typically a bit easier to control since I know what traits to expect to change. A lot of the time this can be a good thing, as it gives me a boost that helps me get things done, but most of the time for me these traits force me to work harder to be the kind person I want to be. I'll find myself being more sarcastic and sassy than usual, or darker and edgier, or giving into my depression more. It ranges a lot!

Moving on: while this was originally created with fictional characters in mind, it may also apply to people borrowing traits from real life people. For example, someone with BPD might synth as their FP (favorite person) for a time. People with autism may synth as their best friends, or celebrities they have a special interest in

This term is intended for ND people, but there are no other requirements. You don't have to have BPD or autism or DID, or anything similar. If your brain has a tendency to borrow traits from others for a while, which results in major changes to the way you yourself behave, talk, think, or interact with others, then congrats- the term is yours!

Restrictions

This term doesn't really have restrictions, but I do want to make some things clear:

This term is not an identity term per se, but rather a term like "masking." It's intended to describe something you do, not something you are. If you want though, you can probably use idiosynth as an identity

Due to the above, there currently is no flag. We may think about creating one later, but right now, we would actually prefer if there was no flag for this term.

This term is intended to be connected to the neurodivergent community, not necessarily the kin, alterhuman, etc communities. In short, "it's not an otherkin term" is what I'm trying to say. People in those communities are welcome to it, however!

This term doesn't inherently have to do with gender or orientation, but it may affect your gender presentation. As gender/etc is more part of your identity, we tried to avoid considering that as part of this term. However, if you still feel like the term fits you, then you're more than welcome to use it :)

Pretty sure that's all for now, I'll be sure to update this if I feel the need to add to it. Feel free to tag this account or @xgrskx if you want to share things about your experiences with idiosynths :3

[tsarinatorment]

I see why people want plague!Will but I think he already has the potential to be dangerous.

Light has been weaponized against mortals and monsters multiple times-it's how Apollo kills Commodus. I'm particularly thinking of Hyperion and how his gaze was blinding and it hurt to even look at him, according to Percy. Light when concentrated enough still burns and bleaches. It leaves permanent damage.

Especially if Will's powers are revealed to be heliokinetic instead of just photokinetic? UV rays can give you all sorts of wounds and diseases. The sun is seen as a positive force, obviously associated with life and light and being good/healing/comforting for you- traits we also associate with Will- but as The Burning Maze highlights, it can also be deadly.

Oh, Will certainly has the potential to be dangerous with his current canonical skillset. Heck, we straight up see this in BOO - his ultrasonic whistle is not a cute, friendly ability, it's one that bursts eardrums and likely has the potential to permanently deafen people as well as the temporary stunning he uses it for (see the damage Michael's sonic arrows could do in TLO - Will can generate those sounds without any aid or godly gifted items.) We see Apollo himself literally kill Commodus with his voice in TTT - whether Will can go that far remains to be seen (admittedly unlikely considering it was something not even Apollo had done before that moment). Light, as you say, is also highly weaponisable, and it's implied that they know this - Nico specifically requests Will to glow at minimal level, which is still bright enough to light up an entire trog cavern, so his light can certainly get far, far brighter than that.

And of course, he's a healer. Don't mess with healers. Just don't. They're the ones that know how to take you apart in the fewest, most efficient moves possible. If you know how to fix things, you know how to un-fix things.

Will, just with his canon abilities, is incredibly dangerous, but that makes his general non-combative stance incredibly special, to me.

Because Will could be dangerous. He could stand on the front line and really wreck an opposing army. But he doesn't. Will choses to be kind, to help people, to heal, to not use his abilities as offensive despite the potential, but rather as defensive. Even the whistle he uses only as a last resort, and only to stun - again, it's canon that he can control the volume and effect of it because the two he uses in BOO are different, as Nico helpfully tells us.

There's a luxury in being able to choose non-violence, especially in his world. We can't deny that - most demigods are forced to kill or be killed, fight with everything they have just to stay alive. Will is able to choose non-violence because he has the love and support of the camp - mess with Will, and at least half the camp will be lining up to take their shot at you, so Will doesn't have to (and I'm not even including Nico and Apollo in this, but if those two get involved, good luck to the instigator).

But still, it says something about Will's character that he chooses peace. He doesn't stand down, he has his morals and he does not waver on them (and no, his morals are not always white - see Octavian, who he was willing to let die, and I know people point out about him listening to Nico, and Solangelo blah-blah-blah, but I'd like to point out that Octavian blamed Apollo for the war right in front of Will, and that got Will mad. Will's love, support, and faith in his father is strong - we see it in BOO, we see it all through TOA. He literally gets his father's symbol tattooed over his heart; that's a heck of a statement to make. Having Octavian desecrate Apollo's name... from everything we've seen of Will, it makes sense that in that moment he could take the excuse Nico was offering, that Michael Kahale provided, and let him die), but Will chooses non-violence.

Giving him another power that is so clearly destructive, so against the gentle, nurturing nature he's been shown to have until this point, would be worthless unless we're actively shown him to be struggling with it against his morals, and I don't think he'd ever willingly use it, in any situation, so it's a waste to make him have plague powers, quite frankly - hence why the only version of it I can personally find believable and acceptable is as I described in my previous post, where it's forced upon him and he has to struggle to rebuild who he is with this new piece (much like Nico has had to rebuild who he is, across the first three series).

[tossawary]

hey, weird idea. But what if shang was a half demon. But like, one that was basically baseline human if not for the fact that he had something that let his family know it was there. A tail they cut off? Sharp teeth? Like, this could be the real reason that he canonically saved Mobei and betrayed the humans. Since he was on both sides of the line, he was trying to play both sides. Just the opposite of Binghe even if he's similar.

I think it could be fun for a one-shot concept, I really do think it could be a very fun fic premise, but otherwise I’m afraid that I don’t vibe with Demon or Half-Demon Shang Qinghua at all (outside of a full cast Human-Demon swap). 

See, what appeals to me personally about Shang Qinghua (other people will have different takes) is that he’s just some guy. He has no special or tragic backstory, beyond some people pushing him around a bit and not showing him sufficient respect in his eyes (also transmigration, but that doesn’t count in this list that I’m making here). He has no special powers. He’s not even very good-looking or anything. Airplane created the story that was the basis for this world and then he gets shoved into a two-dimensional cannon-fodder role where he has to hug thighs to survive. 

I also like the fact that he and Mobei-Jun are coming towards each other from two completely different and separate worlds. Shang Qinghua is very, very human. Mobei-Jun is very, very demon. They have no common ground whatsoever, neither physically nor culturally. They’re flying blind. I personally like the fact that Mobei-Jun is arrogant and prejudiced and ignorant (makes his “oh, shit, I fucked up, I fucked up BAD” suffering more delicious, imo). 

I wrote about this a little bit in the first chapter of my full cast Human-Demon swap fic, in which Shang Qinghua is angry at his character being turned into a demon before he knows that it’s a full cast swap. If Shang Qinghua is a demon or half-demon, then I feel like it undermines the fact that he betrayed his sect out of nothing more than greed, entitlement, and personal resentment. (Which, funnily enough, kind of mirrors the fact that Airplane “sold out” and turned PIDW into a power fantasy harem novel because it was more popular.) 

The vibe I get from the flawed / corrupt Peak Lords of the original Proud Immortal Demon Way is that Airplane wanted to give reason for his blackened protagonist to decide that humans were hypocrites, only out for themselves, and no better than demons despite humans feeling inherently morally superior. I feel like Airplane originally had an “everyone just sucks" thesis here. And the vibe I get from Original Shang Qinghua is that he had no personal loyalty to Mobei-Jun whatsoever, which is why PIDW MBJ killed him and SQH was certain that MBJ would do it again. He really thinks that Shang Qinghua is just some lowly, power-grubbing human worm in Mobei-Jun’s eyes. 

So, giving Original Shang Qinghua any kind of loyalty to demonkind, anything to make Mobei-Jun sympathetic to him (like, say, being a demon child struck among humans), or anything that makes him a significant character parallel to the protagonist in any way kind of undermines all of that. 

I like the fact that Shang Qinghua spared Mobei-Jun just because he was so attached to the character (and MBJ was handsome, but I think there’s an element of sentimentality and spite against the System here too). I like the fact that Shang Qinghua clawed his way into Mobei-Jun’s heart and into surviving the plot despite the fact that he has no special traits and they have no common ground. Shang Qinghua is just so quintessentially “just some random guy in over his head doing his best to Make It Work” to me. 

 So, yeah, I feel like it would be a good one-shot concept for an AU. For another AU idea, I think a dream or a curse temporarily making Shang Qinghua a demon would be fun, because I think MBJ would be Into It as a roleplay/temporary thing and then you could have some relationship-building, self-esteem stuff afterwards with SQH going, “Would MBJ prefer it if I was a demon? Should I find a way to make the change permanent?” And MBJ going, “NO.” 

Thanks for sharing! 

[firstginger]

I'm not certain if you're still accepting form findings (if not, then my apologies). But would you mind helping me settle on a form for my daemon? I'm an isfp, enneagram 2w1, and virgo sun/libra moon/virgo rising. I'd consider myself to be more imaginative, as I spend a lot of time in my own head daydreaming really convoluted plots. I prefer routine, but I am able to adapt to changes especially when helped by others. I'm a casual worker but also a total perfectionist: quality > quantity. 🌷🐁

I'm not very ambitious but I hold myself to really high standards. There's always been a huge pressure on me to do well and I conform to it as much as possible. I think in a very scattered way (thanks ADHD) but I use outside tools to help myself stay organised. I'm super introverted and I'm only semi-verbal. I shy away from everyone, even loved ones. I have a very hard time expressing my feelings but am a therapist friend for the ppl I know. I love to do things co-op, though I don't trust people very easily. I'd like to think of myself as understanding. Even if I don't believe someone's excuse, I bite my tongue for the sake of keeping peace. I'm quite temperamental, but all my negative mood swings are directed inwards. I'm very anxious and have low energy levels. Sorry for the info dump in your inbox! I just wanted to be in depth. If you could give me a form you think fits, or a form that is opposite/compliments me, I'd love it! Water forms are also appreciated but not req. 🌷🐁

oh this is fun, i don't often consider water forms as they aren't most people's favorites! i'll see if i can give you a few good options here.

my first thought was the vaquita: a small critically endangered species of porpoise that lives off the coast of baja california. they typically travel alone or in pairs, and while they do occasionally move in pods as well, the groups are loosely-formed and typically associated with temporary cooperation rather than permanent group bonds. rather shy, they'll quickly swim away if boats approach. i feel like the vaquita strikes a nice balance between your introversion and desire to help others: they're non-aggressive, tolerant, and even amicable creatures, though are self-sufficient and much less social than other porpoises. their restricted range (even before their dramatic population decrease) and the way they stick to the shores and don't migrate feels similar to your preference to stay within a routine and comfort zone. porpoise forms in general also have traits that may resonate with you: they're more low energy, imaginative sorts of people, very intuitive and sensitive but also not group dependent and more socially fluid. they open up with close friends but tend to be wary of strangers -- particularly the vaquita, which isn't going to have a lot of curiosity for new situations or people outside their immediate group. the only sticking point is that they might be a little too go-with-the-flow and not perfectionistic enough. i think more this person might fear a loss of self-preservation and identity and become anxious in situations where they feel trapped or like too much is being demanded of them... but i don't think they'd have an innate desire for perfection.

i was considering next some crab species! i have to suggest the strawberry hermit crab because they're such cuties; they're pretty sensitive but have a sense of curiosity i think might fit with your imaginative trait. very peaceable types of people who like to explore different ideas and try things out independently... so long as it feels like their choice and is in their comfort zone. they very shy and anxious and withdrawing from anything they feel is a threat. i also honed in on the red reef hermit just because i thought its symbiotic relationship with anemones paired up nicely with you being a therapist friend. they host sea anemones on their shells (typically conches) and will feed them scraps of food; in exchange, the anemone helps protect the hermit crab from predators. this certainly indicates a cooperative type of person, and red reefs are notoriously peaceful and socially tolerant compared to many species of hermit crabs. they're also pretty tenacious and focused, so they might be a little too much of busybodies for you, but i can see hermit crabs in general being self-contained individuals who dwell a lot in their own heads.

the last thought i had were some fish species, and i just kept coming back to seahorses and sea dragons. they (predictably!) have a very low-energy, passive, and intuitive vibe, very much not ambitious but also rather observant when it comes to their personal work. their social aspects seem to fit you well too: socially selective, easy to get along with, and slow to trust but settles into close relationships. their level of cooperation fits too; they're very agreeable to cooperation, especially when it means the best possible outcome. they're not adventurous and i would absolutely describe them as more imaginative, but i think then you run into the fact they're not terribly dutiful. they're not motivated by success. while they tend to be reliable, this is the type of person who's more interested in talking about possibilities than following through. they can be anxious and easily overwhelmed, and sometimes it's easier to not force yourself to take on more than you can chew. however their demeanors are pretty patient and calm, and i think it would take a lot to get them riled up. otherwise, i was thinking maybe something in the cichlid family? an angelfish might be up your alley as they're more sensitive, anxious, and dutiful... more selectively social and take a while to warm up, and don't enjoy change or diversion from their routine. i think cichlids might combine your introversion/anxiety with your temperamental nature. the blood red parrot cichlid, for example, is a species i'd see as very shy and reclusive but tolerant, though can become stressed and reach a boiling point.

ope this got long, i'm going to cut it off here but if you're looking for some non-aquatic forms (the strawberry hermit is terrestrial but needs access to saltwater) definitely send me another message! or let me know if these forms are a close in some ways and not in others, and i can try to refine things down even more for you! :)

[enbies-and-felonies]

Genderfluid joke(?)-

I made a post saying the same thing a while ago but in Spanish class we were talking about which version of "to be" we should use in different situations- there was one for permanent traits and one for temporary traits. One of our example questions was "which do we use for gender" and my genderfluid disaster of a self immediately blurted out "[the temporary trait one]." I tried to pass it off as being bad at Spanish- which I am, so it was a pretty good cover story- but I found it pretty funny.

oh my gosh i love that sdkghdkfjg

[a-for-alternative]

Hello, A! So I was wondering do you have any headcannons about how you and B were like at Wammy's together? PS. I thought dead men tell no tales lol (sorry about the joke if you didn't like it)

// Oh do I ever... Alternative has such potential to highlight things about B’s character that develops him into the killer of Mello’s novel. The lore surrounding the first generation (and the notion of Mello writing about a dead successor that previously filled his position - his predecessor) is more poignant than I think it was intended to come across but here are some headcanons~

Wammys House:

A & B are the first to receive their secondary alias after which it becomes a kind of right of passage for other successors, choosing their own (though often not official) - to A & B, only theirs will ever be legitimate.

A is introduced to B after only 1-2 years of being at the house

A, before becoming a letter, was taken into Wammy’s due to his intellect but only later is selected as the first attempted L-backup, probably pulled from a satellite home 

Alternative & Backup (A’s perspective):

His introduction to B is a pivotal moment for him. After so much loss, he sees this as an opportunity for redemption and a return to a clear path forward, and now it is under threat. B represents for A the physical manifestation apathetic fate, he is foreign in every sense, they cannot even communicate when they are initially introduced. His presence signifies A’s disposability - B is the backup plan for when A fails, like a vulture circling over head, it looms over him like a prophesy he is trying to outrun..  though, B can also overtake him at anytime, relegating him to a future that, from A’s perspective, is neither known nor the success story that he has put so much hope in. The world for Alternative at this point in his life is an unreasonable and precarious place. All he knows, up to this point as a seven year old, is that everything is fragile and must be hard won - and there is no guarantee that one can keep what they have fought or sacrificed to obtain. --- after all, he is in line to replace L and L is about as far from vulnerable as he believes a person can get --- Maybe, B also represents a challenge that requires a level of maturity that he does not yet possess - the inevitable dilemma, that this position is of such consequence to the world, that it needs the best person for it, — and that may not be him...

There is nothing genuine in the sweet smile.

The way he extends an open hand, how his soft, his boyish voice offering “ Hello, Alternative ” …  

A feels an unpleasant sensation snake up his spine like a fever’s chill, empathetic aptitude ringing in his ears with all the incongruence rolling off this boy.

His gentleness feels scripted, words trilling out of his mouth- practiced and angular; absolutely, wholly contrived. A has never meet anyone with such an emptiness in their words and actions…

A returns the greeting with a stony, silent stare - I know what you are. 

They slide up from the open palm to meet the foreign boy’s gaze - Blue eyes resting soft, knowing and stormy, heaven’s skies empty of angels. Alternative is standing his ground, refusing to pretend they are not here for a reason, telling himself, “I’m not afraid…”

 But,  he has never seen anyone with such deep eyes.

 They are the windows into an empty soul, a black abyss,                                                                                             absolutely apocalyptic…

Alternative is capricious in his treatment of B, vacillating between animosity and empathy- at times he’s even conspiratorial , allying himself with B and undermining their superiors- beginning to identify with B (even in spite of the language barriers). Backup is clever and naïve and careless, and unreserved in a way that A wishes he felt safe to be. B is the only one that can truly grasp what he is going through but he is also very strange... -- Alternative struggles with trials & setbacks that roll off Backup’s back with ease. B is several years into his understanding of his eyes and it shapes how he moves through the world, what he feels is worth his pain, what ultimately just doesn’t matter. A is, in some ways, what B might have become if he were a little more ignorant, spared the ever present reminder that this is all so temporary.

Alternative has many faces that none are as acutely aware of as B- it is why he doesn’t take the quips and backhanded apologies personally. Alternative’s identity has been tailored to his circumstances — so much of it he had to leave behind to become this -- to his superiors, he is mature, disciplined and motivated -- exemplary if not a bit too austere. To those that benefit him, he is considerate and trustworthy- and honest. To those that he fears will take advantage of him, he is an arrogant and harsh - conniving and spoiled. When he is caught without a persona on hand, he is awkward, reclusive, and reserved. Despite this, his cardinal traits are eloquence and persistence, he thinks deeply about his place in the world and who he should be but not enough on who he is — Only B is audience to moments when he is short sighted and immature, when he is undone or humiliated - when he is elated or truly.. afraid of what lay ahead of them. When he is sick or less than who he wants to present himself as, B has been there whether he wanted him to be or not.

Alternative is attracted to B though it is initially a disquieting realization, one even he doesn’t entirely understand. It isn’t that B is unusually good looking or charming — though perhaps A has peculiar tastes that B unintentionally satisfies (I can’t imagine him actually trying)... The level of intimacy involved in knowing someone this long, on such a personal and inescapable level has made B a source of unwavering acceptance, — because he had to be. The alternative would have been sleeping next to someone he would gradually come to despise any who really wants to live that way? Yet, B comes to represent stability and unconditional regard that feels a lot like love. There is a fraternal element to it in that B anchors who he is. B is someone that has a history with him that hasn’t been erased or eroded -- that contradicts A’s perception of the world as fragile or finite - it is comforting to have something seemingly permanent ... and terrifying that he cannot start anew, if he doesn’t like who he is and cannot be hidden in the obscurity that L enjoys.

When B begins to insinuate an interest in something more, A is not initially receptive and becomes genuinely distressed. This doesn’t translate with any logical sense to B, who believes it’s born out of A’s latent fears of realizing his own sexuality...  But, by the time they are entering late adolescence, A is more concerned with the prospect of romance and that becoming L is destined to be a lonely path. He sees their childhood in it’s twilight as a tragic loss that cannot be reclaimed or rewritten, and B’s subtle advances as destructive to the purity of their friendship -- but he can’t stay a child forever even if he feels a sense of unfinished business surrounding it and he can’t keep B there either... It takes B’s attention shifting elsewhere for A to begin softening to the idea that B isn't ruining what's between them but expanding on it.

Alternative has experienced depression -- at some point he was prescribed SSRIs, as a part of basic care for successors. While it does alleviate the depth of his lows, he begins to worry that it is dulling the sharpness of his mind, which he has come to see as central to his self-worth. It may have no foundation in reality but A develops an inconsistent relationship with any medication prescribed to him out of those fears. In the end, - there are some things medicine cannot fix...

A few other small things:

- A loves the smell of lavender and grass, it reminds him of his home though as he gets older this memory is more elusive and he begins to wonder if they memories from funeral flowers or even if they are impressions left over from a dreams.. did he even attend his parents funeral?

- A knows they aren’t allowed to take pictures of each other in Wammy’s for good reason but when Y sneaks a camera into the house one summer evening, he is can’t deny there is something precious about having pictures of B perched on the railing of the back steps - his hair sweep by the wind just as he turns his eyes to look, soft unfocused, — like the tender look he gives him just as he wakes up in the morning before he remembers who they are. A traces the lines of his face while lying beneath his bed, where he tucks it between the boards. It’s only a few years later that he will see how much his friend has matured. -- B hates photographs and will place them face down when they go into Roger’s office. Roger has never understood why.

- A drinks his coffee and tea black as tar. B thinks it is terribly bitter but will bring it to him anyway, unaltered. There is something uniquely enjoyable in knowing that B doesn’t need to be told what he likes~

- A is borderline masochistic though perhaps only B has any inkling of it. He would probably never acknowledge it openly... it is degrading to get a charge out of being hurt.

- A loses his faith around age 10 but still believes that he might as well act as though there is a purpose in being good and not just adept and ruthless. The only alternative, from A’s perspective, is to believe that everything he has been through meant nothing and he will ultimately change nothing. And, that may be too painful a philosophy for him to embrace. 

- A’s worst injury occurred when he was deliberately shoved off the roof by an irate B ( thatvhe provoked). While it was a watershed event for A coming so close to death and experiencing the consequences of pushing B beyond that point of caring about consequences... For Backup, this a was also critically informative event, an exercise proving the numbers were infallible -- he was genuinely surprised that A survived the fall and, to a greater degree, surprised that he felt regret in having done it ... left alone in their room to wonder for days, searching for the contraband pictures from that summer A had hidden that could prove if A was even still alive....

[imaginaryhuman]

Insecurities, Fortitude and the Unfortunate Phenomenon of Gatekeeping

Note:

1. I'm trying to not be afraid of my own opinions (this will probably get a different word wall)

2. This isn't a hot take or a "permanent opinion". It's just...current. I think opinions fit a dynamic mold. Or I think it should since circumstances change and experiences can change thought processes.

3. My initial draft for this was a lot more aggressive and angry. When I started writing, I thought I would only tackle the one thing I was very familiar with (insecurities), then I read an article that miffed me a bit because of the gatekeeping vibes, and for a while, I was angry about it but then I realized how common it was. I've heard it from my brothers, I've experienced it with fandoms, with books, with cooking, and with running. There's even a subreddit for it! 👀

It's not like I'd wake up one day and it will be gone. Still, it does push me a few steps back when it comes to conquering slight misanthropy. But it matters to me to say this cause I grew up seeing myself as some last draw.

_____________________________________________________________

"I feel most responsible for myself when I'm insecure" I've wanted to expound on this for a while so here goes:

I've grown to have an intimate (and rather painful) relationship with insecurities. I was a sickly child so I would be in and out of hospitals so frequently that establishing young friendships didn't come easy. Some kids didn't take kindly to impermanence too and it's not anyone's fault. It just happened to be that way. Growing up, I came to realize that I wasn't exactly great at anything. Had I not been exposed to extraordinary minds, maybe I would have come to terms with it much kindly except I wasn't. I always thought that people around me were brilliant, smart, and talented (until now). To the point where I felt the need to alienate myself from it all so I could remain in the forefront of my own mind.

Comparisons come naturally but having them weigh on you is a different ball game altogether. Learning ways out of it is always challenging because insecurities aren't just a singular form of monster-- Sometimes it's about the future, sometimes it's body image, sometimes it's the gripping idea of not being enough for anything you love and it's all so cursed and horrible.

There was that time when more things were piled up on the mental shelving. I was talking shit about someone. Sure, people do it all the time but I think that time I was... viciously and purposelessly nitpicking. Everything I could say about that person, I said it. Totally not proud of that moment and a friend thought so too! First, they told me to shut the fuck up. Just like that, really. Next is they pointed it out. As in told me "V, you have a problem and it's really fine being a total hater but you're not usually like this with other things you dislike. What's wrong?" and then we EXPLORED. Doing this can be so cringe a lot of times but hey, we face the music in this club! I was happy to not be thinking about it alone and the experience made me learn a new way of confronting things and issues that make me feel insecure.

We talked about the whats, whys, and hows of being one hell of a hater and how even if certain reasons are justified. Like, okay, someone did something bad to you and you hate them for it? That's totally valid. Do you find certain traits a bit off your tastes? that's valid too! But even if they are valid feelings, most of the time it's not enough to justify certain actions. The thing is, we don't really have the right to be so up in someone's business about every little thing they do. It's frustrating and I feel like a hypocrite saying this sometimes because I have the obsessive compulsion to keep everyone at arm's length but I feel like there's a parameter where peoples' businesses either become something welcome or becomes a blip on a radar that I'd aggressively shoot down. Although I know that my radar can get too wide and that I need some willpower to hold back snark and suspicion. What can I say, I'm weak to any notions of ill-intent (a byproduct of assault).

But fortitude would sometimes come from borrowed words:

"Don't deny yourself what you think but don't do yourself a disservice by not figuring out what it really is about"

I was told then. To be truthful but exercise tact (I'm neither tactful, clever nor silent hence the trouble that follows) and to be mindful of the undercurrents of my thoughts. I think it's important to take a step back and at least ask yourself the most honest and genuine whys.

Insecurity has a bad rep and is too often used derogatorily for something so common and rather natural. But I feel that ultimately, insecurity stems from an understanding of what you don't have and the frustration of having aspirations. Having aspirations being a good thing but the frustration makes us people act up in so many different ways. For me, insecurities have primarily manifested themselves through the urge to just hide everything that makes me happy because I couldn't (and it's still hard to) stand digs at the things I do to keep me sane. Plus I've always thought them (happy things) few and temporary so that's that. Younger me was weird about it omg.

The rule in this house now though is to express what makes me happy and I think I've saved up a bit of grit to not allow myself to be gatekept (by others and by myself**) from those happy things! I love a lot of things (baking, running, reading, pets, anime & manga, drawing...) and the gatekeeping going on with all those? Surprisingly plenty! A totally different word block (that I won't write because I think this has to be put to rest here), really, and also a total nightmare. But how it applies in the realm of insecurities is... Oh, boi. Ignore it-- it's just bad news as it is strong fuel to a fire you don't want to keep going. If you love doing what you do and you're not hurting anyone then just keep going. I know for a fact that the things I love doing are loved by many others too because running? Creating things? Reading? These are things worth loving without it having to be a competitive chore (If you wanna challenge goals though then hey! Good on you! YOU CAN DO IT!)

Draw your lines, plan your layering in a way that fits your style. Use the tools that work for you. Put on your shoes and get going. I'm only particular with speed because I want to get better (and lol I am not fast) but just being out there and moving? That's already running. Fail some recipes or nail em, whatever happens, just try. Fangirl over what you wanna fangirl about! Post it on your IG and all your other socials. A rather horrifying realization is that no matter what you do, someone's gonna take a dunk at ya. Worse, you can be intentionally approached and engaged for that purpose primarily. It's okay (not really but... if it happens, it happens ). Even if you're used to it, it will still get to you but maybe less and less through time. When the voice of apprehension guides you to retaliate in the most painful way you know, just keep the fear at bay and be strong to not let that urge take over your words and actions. Be frustrated! It's fine! And I really don't support self-harm so please don't misunderstand when I say that when it comes to fear and insecurity, there's a lot you have to take on yourself so you don't hurt others. A lot to unpack between you and your brain. There are people who can love you without patronizing you and those you can trust to reign you in when you lose better judgment. Be honest and let them in.

Have that conversation.

//

Extras:

- AH! But I got to say this cause I also saw a post that said "if you haven't ran 50 to 100 miles, you don't know what a hard run is" wow. Fuck that guy. Actually, don't. He's probably not a fun date.

- this: "you can be intentionally approached and engaged for that purpose primarily" is from experience. An extra worse thing is to be vilified for retaliating. Like...was I just supposed to sit there and take it?

- I used to not like motivational quotes! I mean, I'm alright with them now for sure! We were talking about them and I was asked "What's wrong with properly credited borrowed words? You use them all the time since you like referencing songs." and it was like a tunnel of light appeared before me! Sorry for those whose post I've frowned at! I had an angst phase! I am very genuinely sorry 🙏🏻

[vegetacide]

TaG: Bloodlines (Part 9 Bit 2 )

Veg • notables: Second part... long chunk... 

Any errors in this are strictly my own

Ty to @gumnut-logic and @scribbles97 for the brainstorming help and the encouragement.

Chapter 1 | Previous Chapter | Next 

Rating and General warning: Mature content head. If you are not a fan of medical issues of a female nature in relation to pregnancy please proceed with caution.

Characters: Virgil/Kayo and various others

E N J O Y

8-8-8

Part 9 - Dipisahkan (Bit 2)

They managed to delay the move for a few more weeks.  Using the very active storm season that had just kicked off in the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean as a good excuse to push things out a bit.  

Virgil knew that the stall tactic was starting to wear thin and their Doctor was getting anxious as Kayo hit the six month mark with no further improvement made.

Dragging a grease smeared hand through his hair as a bolt refused to budge,  Virgil swore and leaned against the side of the pod.  He was making work for himself for the sake of making work. Avoiding the packing that Kayo had slowly started to do over the last week.  

They had no more excuse, they had to move. He hated the fact that he would be of no help if an emergency came up but he hated it even more that he was going to be leaving Kayo in less than weeks time.  That is if they got the packing done.  

Procrastination was certainly something Virgil didn’t usually have in his wheelhouse and it irked him that he’d been doing just that for the last twelve hours or so.  

Grabbing a rag, he wiped his hands and tossed it on his work bench.  He wasn’t getting anywhere with this pod anyway.  He knew when he’d pulled the maintenance hatch off that the thing was only fit for recycling.   A trip off a cliff side and into a raging river had done in its circuitry when its reinforced haul had been breached as it had been smashed about. The silt in the hydraulics along was enough to force a complete rebuild.

Luckily at the time no one had been inside the pod.  Brains and him had over engineered them with pilot safety in mind but even with all that had one of them been aboard at the time the ledge had given out.. Well lets just say they would be down a brother permanently.   

As it was after the interchangeable craft had tumbled,   Alan had gotten caught up in a lead line that was being used to stabilize a raft while Scott played a tantalizing game of ‘pluck a rafter from the rapids’.  If it hadn’t been for Virgil’s quick thinking as he’d dived and cut the line,  Alan would have a lot been worse off.  Sprained ankles were a pain to deal with but it was better off than dead. 

He was mending though and driving them all nuts as he fought a serious case of boredom,  The complete opposite to his wife’s quiet brooding that was for sure despite the fact that they have pretty much all grown up together.  Thankfully his little brother's antsy trait hadn’t spread or they would all be in serious trouble. 

Packing up his tools, he took one last look at his work space..kicked himself for procrastinating yet again and marched his butt upstairs to help his wife pack.  

Packing went surprisingly quickly once the pair of them really got into it.   Kayo having spent so much time traveling around was very adept and efficient at the task and before they knew it they were stowing the last few bags away on the family jet and saying their goodbyes.  

The boys were all there to see them off,  Alan hobbling along on a set of crutches.   Grandma gave both of them a big hug as a send off and made them promise to check in with her daily even though she was going to be paying them a visit soon enough.  She traveled to the mainland on a regular so popping in was an easy enough side jaunt for her. 

Jeff was last in line to see them off and he kissed Kayo in the cheek whispering something in her ear that made her eyes well up with tears and gave his son a good clap on the back.

“Keep in contact and let us know when you make it to the house.” His father intoned after a hearty handshake.  

“Will do.” 

It wasn’t like they were going to be that far away as the ‘bird flies but the family had only  just fully reformed as a single unit and none of them wanted to be parted for long. 

After fist bumping Alan, nodding to John and one arm hugging Scott, he and Kayo got on board.  Gordon brought up the rear with a whistle and a spring to his step.  He’d volunteered to give them a hand knowing full well that Lady Penelope was going to be waiting for them on the tarmac in Auckland.  

The trip after that was kind of a blur.  He’d done the crossing so many times in Two that he could do the trip in his sleep though this time it was at a more sedate pace.  

When they arrived,  security was already on the ground waiting for them along with Penny who greeted them with a polite smile and a wink Gordon’s way as he basically skipped down the gangway.  

Ushered into a waiting Fab 1 with the appropriate escort in tow,  Penny hit the control to tint the windows and off them went.  

“Oh this is lovely,”  Penelope pronounced as the car slowed and passed through a large set of gates some time later.  On the other side were two rows of pohutukawa trees,  their trunks thick with age and their canopies full and resplendent even in the off season.   Dappled light peaked though its lush leaves and danced merrily across a red gravel lined laneway that curved up to a beautiful colonial style house. 

The grounds surrounding the two story home were impeccably tended and flush with every imaginable shade of green.  Gardens sat nestled below fine picture windows framed by dark teal shutters and off set by curly-que wrought iron trellises. 

The home itself was large enough to fit the whole family but not so big that it was ostentatious. Its white siding was quant and its front door though sheltered by columns and a tiled roof overhang was welcoming and warm. 

 It blended in perfectly with the neighbouring houses and the quietness of this section of Parnell made it the ideal location to lay low.

Very few people knew that the Tracy’s even owned property here as it was far removed from their company’s various global headquarters and this particular location was under title of one of their many subsidiaries.  

Fab 1 coasted up the driveway with ease; the red gravel crunching under the tire as the custom car came to a stop just outside the front door.  Their dark colour escort vehicles pulling up behind, security disembarking even before the SUVs had finished moving. 

Swarming over their temporary lodgings and ground like ants even though there was an all seeing eye keeping watch from above and more security within its wall than most banks.  

The whole search and secure took only a few moments and when completed there was a tap tap on the car window.  The darkened glass rolled down an inch and a hushed but professional voice of one of the personnel rattled off a quick all clear.  “Baxter and Jenkins are already inside, Sir.   Grounds secure.” 

Penny turned to them as the black clad guard pulled back from the car and went to assume a position by the front door.  “Are you sure that this location will be adequate for your purposes? You are more than welcome to take up residence at my chateau in Perth.”

“Thank you Lady Penelope but we will be fine here for the duration. There’s more security here now than at Fort Knox. Plus,,”  He pointed upwards. “The all seeing eye is keeping tabs on the place.  Really with EoS buzzing about the circuitry and cameras we will be okay. On top of that, the plane is sitting on standby if we need to bolt and we’re got priority departure status if the need arises.  We can have wheels up and be airborne in a manner of minutes.” 

Penny seemed appeased by his reassurances despite his own doubts about everything..He didn’t like being out here anymore then the rest of them but what choice did they have.  They would just have to make the most of it and really even though the house wasn’t used often no expense had been spared getting it ready for them to occupy.  

Knowing their escort was getting twitchy with them just sitting there, Virgil took the initiative and opened the car door.  

Stepping out it was only than  that he noticed that Fab 1 was sporting a different colour from when he’d gotten in.  The curious look on his face must have drawn Parker’s attention for the driver simply said.  “Pink, though nice h’is a whee bit noticeable.”

“Ah yes “ Penny smiled tightly, her hand in Gordon’s as he helped her out. “Counter surveillance tactic.  It is such a dreadful colour though.  We must program the camo cells with something more...fashionable than slate grey.”   

“Yellow’s a nice colour.”  Gordon contributed with a grin trying to ease some of the tension and Penny’s lady-like tinkle of laughter followed. 

“It is but decidedly attention grabbing, darling.”  She leaned slightly into the aquanaut, aristocratic propriety be damned and pecked him on the cheek. It was obvious she’d picked up on Gordon's subtle plan to pop the stress balloon that surrounded them and had decided that she would help in her own way. 

Kayo had stayed decidedly quiet even for her throughout the whole exchange and when Virgil went to give her a hand out of the car her hand was cold in his.  “Alright?” 

She nodded mutely,  eyes scanning and ever assessing her surroundings and her free hand cupped protectively over her middle through the swell of it was lost under the folds of her open cardigan.  

“Kayo,”  The guards acknowledged her as they passed through the front doors, standing a little taller at their posts.  

Once inside and the door firmly closed behind them, they were greeted by a later afternoon sunlit foyer and a curved stairway lined with painting.   Some of which were copies of Virgil’s personal work.  A touch of home that someone had added during one of their previous stays at the house. 

Off to one side through a large archway was a cozy sitting room.  Plush cushioned seating was placed about to create comfortable conversation areas all bracketed by dark wood side tables with an assortment of tasteful lamps.  One wall was taken up by the large expanse of built in shelving with an artful arrangement of leather bound books and eclectic knick-knacks and pottery.  Centered across from the entry was a grand mantle and open faced fireplace, a fire crackling happily away in the hearth and chasing the coolness from the air away with a wonderful scent of Applewood.

On the other side of the foyer a set of glass paned double doors sat open to reveal a long, glossy dining table with accompanying chairs and a beautiful carved sideboard.  The walls were bisected by hand crafted wood paneling in a contrasting white while the upper portion was a deep maroon.  A heavy framed gilded mirror floated above the side board making the space appear even larger than it was and candles of various sizes flickered and reflected back at them invitingly.  

It had been ages since Virgil had set foot in this house. The last time being after they’d lost their father.  Usually the house was used as a tucked away spot to house Tracy Industry guests and their family when there was a need but it had only been used a half dozen times in the last eight or so years.  With the sudden disappearance of their business priorities has shifted somewhat and the boys were never in town long enough to demand out of towners to do the same.  

Most stuff these days was handled though holo with the odd exception here and there. Even those were only brief in person exchanges that took place within the confines of the company walls in whatever country that was deemed an appropriate location. Quick,  concise trips that got them back to the island and their families main function of first responders.

Settling a bag at the base of the stairs,  Virgil relaxed only slightly at being sheltered out of sight.  The building though charming held an array of emotions that he didn’t really feel inclined to revisit but out of all the properties they own this was one that was off the radar of the local media.   Mainly because they spent an exorbitant amount of credits keeping it that way. 

Looking at his wife as she peered into the living room, he contemplated tucking her away in bed.  She looked a little haggard from the short journey here and he wanted to make that transition as easy on her as possible.  

Just as he was about to suggest this through a door tucked behind the stairs opened and two plain clothed TI staffers came out.   Even dressed as they were in casual and comfortable clothing their straight back posture and alert eyes gave them away from what they were.  

“Baxter, Jenkins.”   Kayo said by way of greeting as they approached her even though she was off duty.  Her voice was steady contrary to her weary state, shoulders tight and high.   

“Ma'am.” They greeting in kind, coming to stand in front of them at parade rest.  You could take the employee out of the Marines but obviously not the Marines out of the employee.  “Everything is in order as arranged. No whispers on any social media.  Your arrival has gone unnoticed.” 

She gave a curt nod and the pair disappeared out the front door to give Parker a hand with the bags. 

“Well, this has been a delightful trip.” Lady Penny spoke up.  “I would love a cup of tea,  anyone else?”  

“Right ah’way, M’lady.”  Parker said with a huff as he set down the bags he'd brought in. “I’ll bring it to the parlour.”  

“Wonderful, Parker. Thank you.”

The distraction was a welcome relief from all the hubbub of the relocation and Virgil took the opportunity to check on Kayo, away from the prying eyes of the others.

“Hey, you sure you’re alright?”  He took her cold hand in his again and gave it a reassuring squeeze.  

She sighed, the action deflating and slumping her shoulders,  “Just tired.”  

Inspected her face and satisfied that she wasn’t holding anything back, he nodded in agreement.  It had been a long day after all and emotions were running high despite all the planning.  

“Why don’t you go up,”  He suggested, canting his head towards the stairs at her back.  “I’ll bring you up a warm drink and something to eat once everything from the car is brought in.”  

Rising up on her toes she brushed a kiss over his cheek,  no fight in her quiet response as she turned and tiredly went up the stairs.  

Resting a hand on the banisters, he kept a watchful eye on her as she slowly ascended, worry creasing his brow. 

“Everything okay, Bro?”  Gordon piped up from behind him.

Forcing a smile..  “Ya,  everything's fine.  Just been a long day.”  

8-8-8

TBC

Chapter 1 | Previous Chapter | Next 

[vee-angel]

Bimbo Bailee (Chapter 1, part 1 repost)

Bimbo Bailee (Chapter 1, part 1)

(Part of the Pervert Pentet Series. Content warning: subtext of tragic loss)

         ——————————————————–

She woke up in a daze. How long had it been since she’d been in control of her own mind? The trance was lasting longer each time, how long until it’d be permanent? The thought of being… her… forever made her heart race with fear. But it was also something she found incredibly erotic.

She never would have started dating Mark if the thought of mind control wasn’t so incredibly arousing to her. It started with minor things, she’d find she wasn’t wearing underwear in the middle of the day despite clearly remembering putting it on in the morning. She wasn’t sure if the memory was false or if she’d removed them at some point in the day while in a hypnotic trance. She kept pushing for more, the idea of giving up control over her most valuable asset, her conscious mind, thrilled her more than anything else could.

In her youth, her parents had always pushed her to work hard and be smart, but it was never enough. Even when she graduated high school as Valedictorian at age 17, all they wanted to know was what she planned for college. At age 24, she graduated with a doctorate in neurology. She began dating Mark after she’d interviewed while she’d been completing her thesis on the effect of external stimuli on the long-term functioning of the mind. He was a hypnotist who claimed that with enough time, he could turn a person into someone completely different. They often debated, with her claiming that what he said was impossible. No matter what, she argued, there would always be certain core personality traits that would be innate, either because they developed in the formative years or because they were genetically determined.

She began submitting to things she thought of as “experiments” with him. The first few times she felt the influence of his “mind control” she was fascinated. To be able to experience something like this first hand! It was invigorating as a researcher. At least that’s what she told herself in the beginning.

Over time, she became more and more addicted to the idea of leaving her mind in the hands of another. He went from being her boyfriend to becoming her Master. And their “experiments” had taken on a more intense and erotic tone as well. He created this other persona that he could snap her into any time he wished. It was so liberating, the other her was so… happy, carefree. It was as if she could have a respite from the cacophony of thoughts and considerations she grew up being taught was expected of her as an intellectual. She was never happier than when she was with him; and despite knowing every neurochemical reaction that came with being in love, a part of her felt like she’d found her soul-mate.

Eventually they went on a trip together to an isolated cabin, someplace they could do some of the more daring things they’d been wanting to try without fear of her being embarrassed by interactions with other people.

She remembered they did something… daring. Foolish, even. She couldn’t remember exactly what it was at the moment. She flexed a cognitive power that felt like it hadn’t been flexed in quite some time and tried to remember. There was a distinct recollection that her Master was the only one that could release her from the trance once it was activated. But there was something else… something even more reckless she’d asked him to do, to program into her ever-more-pliable mind. What was it?

Her heart sank as she remembered how the trip ended. Her Master had been taking a walk outside the cabin and had slipped on some of the autumn leaves, breaking his skull on a sharp branch jutting from a tree-trunk. She reasoned that the trauma must be why she was having trouble remembering. A sickening hollowness began to form within her the more she thought about him. Her mind instinctively reviewed all the neurological changes that could occur in response to the loss of a loved one. Yet the memory felt distant, like enough time had passed that she shouldn’t feel as bad as she did. She just couldn’t remember what had happened in the interim.

She looked around the room and found that it seemed foreign to her. The layout was definitely her and her late Master’s house, but the decor looked more like it had been done by a middle-school cheerleader, and a slutty one at that, judging by the small, brightly colored clothing strewn haphazardly about.

She took a step out of bed and was immediately floored by a lightning bolt of pain that shot up her Achilles tendon the moment she tried to stand up.

“AAAHH!!!” The pain turned to a slow throb after several seconds, and she tried to examine her feet. She determined that her range of plantar flexion, pointing her toes, was a bit greater than it had been before. But dorsiflexion was severely limited, she couldn’t bring her foot flat enough to take a step. It was as if her Achilles tendon had shortened somehow, as if she’d been wearing high-heels every waking moment for… months? Longer? She couldn’t be sure.

She noticed a pair of hot-pink heels near where she fell and naturally assumed that they were there for the purpose of allowing her to walk. She strapped herself into them and climbed to her feet. The throbbing in her heel had mostly diminished, and she found herself to have an inexplicable ease when she tried to ambulate in the four-inch heels. She rushed to the bathroom mirror; she had to see herself, as much as the thought terrified her.

When she saw her reflection, it took her a moment to believe that she wasn’t looking at an obscene poster of some comic-book bimbo that had been rendered to look realistic.

Her short brown hair had been dyed blonde, and tied up in loose pigtails that hung from the top of her head down her back. By her estimation, her hair terminated just above the sacroiliac joint just superior of her tailbone. She frantically brushed her fingers through the long, platinum locks. Surely these are hair extensions. She couldn’t possibly have lost that much time in her trance-state. This was over a year of growth. Way over.

And her breasts! They didn’t even really look like hers anymore. She’d gotten implants soon after she began dating her Master, as he had a thing for the bimbo look. She figured she could go up to just barely a DD and still seem like a respected professional so long as she didn’t dress to show them off. But it looked like they’d been enlarged at least twice since then. She couldn’t even guess at their current size

32J.

It had just popped into her head, but deep down there was a sense that it was a point of pride for her. The other her. Her lips appeared inflated as well, to a size that would be considered a good bit more than just pillowy.

After the shock wore off, she had to admit, she liked the way she looked. Mark would have loved to see her looking like this. It seemed she’d overcome her habit of stress-eating, and found the time to go to the gym. At least based on the fit, lightly tanned body that appeared to serve mostly as a transportation system for her firm, basketball sized tits.

She took a few deep breaths, trying to determine if this was all a dream or some kind of delusion. She’d tranced out before since her Master’s death, but never for more than a few days. And for the life of her, she couldn’t recall what triggered it. Needless to say, she’d never stayed in her trance state for this long.

Another memory suddenly popped into her head from that terrible night. Something she’d asked for to ensure that they keep pushing things further and further. He had programmed her so that every subsequent trance had to last longer than the previous one.

Shit!!! She thought frantically, They were supposed to be longer by hours, maybe a day or two at most! This wasn’t supposed to last for months. Not… years.

She’d only pushed him to do those things because she knew in the back of her mind that they’d be temporary. He was responsible, and if things got out of hand, he could undo the programming. Unfortunately, that was no longer an option. She still got a sense that there was something else she was missing. Something big. The trigger! That’s it, she’d just have to avoid the trigger phrase! Now what was it? She couldn’t remember! That’s okay, she would just need to avoid interacting with anything until she figured it out. Don’t go outside, don’t talk to anyone, don’t turn on the tv. You don’t want to get accidentally triggered and wake up years from now with even bigger tits.

She tried to steel her resolve when she heard a sound from the other room. An electronic beep and a tinny voice beginning to talk. The answering machine!!! Her master had been her senior by a few decades, and his house still had a landline and an old-style answering machine. She rushed out frantically to try to turn it off. The person on the line explained that they were from her old college and explained that they were calling for…

That was it… The trigger! The impossibly stupid thing they had done in the cabin that night in the woods. They made the trigger phrase… her own name.

“-University and we’re looking to contact Dr. Bailee Holcum.” She tore the machine out of the wall, but it was too late, she could feel the fog setting in…

***

She looked down at the broken machine on the floor with puzzlement. “Well uhh, that’s like, what you get for saying stuff that’s, like, totally boring, Mr. Answering Machine.”

There was a phrase she noticed echoing through the cavernous space of her mind. She said it aloud to try to work out the puzzle. “Bailee… Holcum? Bailee… hole… cum? Oh!! Bailee’s holes need cum! Duh! I need to get dressed so I can go out and get laid! That’s like, totally super important. No wonder I was thinking that!”

[1-800-choke-that-snoke]

Hello, friends! This is a piece written for @itsaconquestofimagination in celebration of Eid al-Fitr. It’s been more than a year since I’ve written any fic, so I’m still shaking some rust off. I might continue it in the future as a multi-chapter piece in the near future. 

~1800 words, sfw, fluff

                __________________________________________

7:59 

You impatiently tap your fingers on the counter, watching the tiny screen of your phone as the time glows brightly on your phone screen. You made sure to straighten up your tiny living room, clean out the horribly decayed food in your fridge left by your roommate, bring out the fourteen empty mugs piled up in your room. 

Footsteps. 

You couldn’t help but smirk a bit as he walked onto your porch. You’d recognize his gait anywhere: heavy, smooth, purposeful. He stopped at your door, and there was the slightest moment of silence. 

8:00 

The doorbell rang. Kylo was always precisely on-time, a trait encouraged by his mother, and later beaten into him by Snoke. You answered the door with a bit more enthusiasm than you intended, cheeks burning. “Kylo!” you beamed, beckoning him inside. 

“Hey, (Y/N),” he said pleasantly. He gave you a warm smile, but you still saw the tiredness in his eyes. He stepped into the tiny apartment, ducking a bit to keep his head from brushing against the doorway. He had his hands stuffed deeply in his pockets, a nervous habit of his, as he stood by the tiny kitchen counter. 

You went into your refrigerator and pulled out the Brita filter he bought for you when you first reconnected, when you first moved into the apartment. You weren’t too fond of using it everyday, but you always made a point to use it whenever he was over. “So, Kylo Ren, what brings you here on a Sunday?” you ask, pouring a couple glasses of water and handing him one. Normally, his Sundays were reserved for late-night family dinners. Tense, passive-aggressive, uncomfortable family dinners, minus one ‘mysteriously disappeared’ father.

“Well, I thought that since Eid starts tomorrow—” 

“Eid ends tonight, actually,” you said, bringing the glass to your lips. 

“Oh,” he muttered nervously, looking like he missed the date for an important exam. “Uhm…” He cleared his throat, redness burning across his face, unable to meet your amused gaze. “So, Wikipedia lied to me…” 

You snorted into your water, nearly choking with laughter. 

Kylo stood silent, taking a moment to work his nerve back up after his blunder. “Uhm, your… the fasting is over though, right?” 

You nodded. 

“Great!” He smiled in relief, his plan getting back on track. You couldn’t help but smile with him. You loved the way his dark eyes lit up, the temporary disappearance of the otherwise permanent fatigue etched on his scarred face. “Since your family is too far away to visit, I thought we could go ou—” He cut off, losing his nerve for just a moment. “Uh, I thought we could have a little celebration of our own.” 

Your heart fluttered. “And, uh, what did you have in mind?” 

He cleared his throat. “Well…I thought I could take you to your favorite restaurant.”

You cocked your head a bit. It was a lovely offer on his end, but Dex’s Diner was a nearly two-day drive—you’d definitely need to cut class to make it, and that wasn’t something you were willing to do. Well, maybe you’d make an exception for Kylo…

“They just opened up a new Dex’s nearby,” he said, a slight eagerness creeping into his voice. “It’s only a couple hours from here.”  

“Really?! Where?” 

“Inside Disneyland.” 

You gasped in delight, absolute joy spreading across your face. He grinned; his ears reddened behind his thick, plushy hair. “So, I’ll pick you up tomorrow?” 

“For sure!” You paused. “You’ll still hang out tonight too, right?” 

“Absolutely.”  

                                                            ***

Kylo had a tendency to switch between suave and painfully awkward. You, however, had quickly grown quite comfortable in his presence, cozy, so you found the morning car ride to be quite lovely. The two of you rode in tranquil silence, simply enjoying each other’s company. 

After getting out of the car and stretching your legs in the parking lot, you started packing your bag for the trip—or in Kylo’s case, stuffing his oversized pockets with loose change, breath mints, his wallet—and a knife. “Kylo Ren,” you said gently, unable to suppress an amused smile. “You can’t take your switchblade into Disneyland.” 

“It’s not a switchblade. It’s my asthma inhaler.” He gave you a mischievous wink and you couldn’t help but smile a bit as he slipped it into his pocket. 

Sure enough, the bag checker pulled him aside after he emptied his pockets. 

“I’m sorry sir, but unfortunately you cannot take a weapon into the park,” she said flatly.  

“It’s actually my asthma inhaler.” 

“Oh. Yes, of course. My apologies.” The checker handed Kylo the knife, much to the horror of a nearby group of moms. “Enjoy your visit!” 

                                                           ***

Kylo reserved your seats nearly two weeks in advance, so you were able to completely bypass the line that stretched nearly fifty people, smiling sweetly at the glaring faces you cut in front of. The two of you sat right beside the pond, filled with ducks and little turtles. 

“Hello! I’m Lewy Mitaka and I’ll be your server for the evening,” the tiny waiter chirped pleasantly, placing a large platter of hummus, muhammara, and hot pita bread on the table. “What would we like to drink?” 

“Mango sharbat, please,” you said sweetly, “Light ice.” 

“Just water for me,” he grumbled, not looking up from the menu. He glanced at his watch: 11:45. “(Y/N), are you ready to order?” he asked you, his voice noticeably softer when addressing you. 

You nodded. You’d memorized the menu years ago; you could recite it in your sleep. “Lamb quzi, please. A side of rice biryani, and some honey halva,” you said, handing over the menu. 

“I’ll have that, too. It comes recommended from a good friend.” He winked at you, causing you to turn beet-red, and Lewy smiled as he scribbled on his little notepad.

“Okay! We’ll have your food out very soon. Enjoy your visit to the park.” 

The food arrived in less than fifteen minutes, and the smell alone triggered a loud growl in your stomach. Kylo somehow timed everything perfectly, like he always did. He bounced slightly in his chair, excited to eat, always ready to eat, but he waited, his soft brown eyes focused on you, as if he was waiting for a cue. 

You cleared your throat, blushing with his gaze held so intently on you. “Yes, Kylo Ren?” 

“Uhm, I know you’ve told me this before. There’s a little thing you say sometimes. You know, before you eat.” He was always eager to learn, even before he met you. It was so different to the emptiness he was raised on, the darkness under Snoke’s thumb. There was so much richness to it, so much community and joy. 

“ I say ‘Bismillah’,” you said warmly. 

“Bismillah,” he said slowly, cautiously, the phrase flowing smoothly on his tongue. “Bismillah,” he repeated. The smile he gave you was almost enough to make you fall out of your chair. 

The food was fantastic, as always. Kylo was quick to jump to the main dish, but you saw his brow furrow as his Mickey Mouse knife failed to cut through the tender quzi. “Damnit, these knives are so dull,” he growled, furiously sawing at his lamb to no avail. He whipped out his switchblade and started cutting through the meat with relative ease, much to your amusement. 

Lewy walked up to your table, nervously clutching a stack of menus to his chest. “Excuse me, sir, is that a pocket knife?” 

“It’s my asthma inhaler,” he said flatly, still slicing up the meat. 

“Ah.” Lewy relaxed his shoulders. “My mistake. Please enjoy the rest of your meal.” 

With your stomach nearly bursting, you two decided that it would be best to avoid any tumultuous rides. Thunder Mountain was a short walk away, so the two of you queued up behind a father glued to his phone and his little son, no older than four. The boy was trotting up and down the line, boisterously greeting any stranger who would acknowledge him. He made his way to you and Kylo and held up his battered Batman toy, one of its ears broken off. “Lookit Batman!” he squealed. Kylo couldn’t suppress the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and gave the child a curt nod. 

As you moved up in the line, you came to stand inside the fake cave behind the deafening waterfall. You leaned on the slippery railing, watching the falling water. Despite the noise, you found it comforting, almost hypnotizing, and it blocked out the sounds of screaming children. Kylo leaned beside you, but his movements were a bit more hesitant than usual. 

You kept your eyes on the waterfall, but you focused on Kylo slowly edging toward you. Yes, you thought to yourself, your pounding heart leaping into your throat. You were careful not to turn your eyes on him, not wanting to spook him. Yes, yes, it’s happening. He was less than a couple inches from you, and you saw him raise his hand, hover it slightly over yours. Yes yes yes—

“Escue me!” 

Kylo yanked his hand back and whipped around, startled by the child standing at his feet. 

Nooo, you thought bitterly. Evil child, evil…

The little boy turned his head this way and that, gaping at Kylo’s scar, completely mystified. “Mister, what happen on your face?” 

An evil smirk crept across Kylo’s lips. “I got attacked by the vampire hiding in this cave.” 

The child started howling, his echoing screams bouncing off the cave walls and scaring everyone in line, and latched onto his father’s leg. His father, unable to pry him off, awkwardly limped out of line with the dozens of glaring faces following him out. 

You leaned against the railing—now a little closer to the front—and Kylo joined you once again. He cleared his throat, keeping his eyes locked on the water. Despite the noise, you could hear him clearly—his voice could cut through anything, another one of his uncanny traits. “Remember when I said I wanted to start a Quranic class?” 

You nodded. It was just last week. When you were younger, when he was full of life and love and curiosity, he was always asking questions, always wanting to learn, to connect. And now, after all this time, you could see it returning. 

“Well, registration opened up a few days ago, so I signed up for the intro course. I start on Tuesday.” 

“Kylo, that’s fantastic!” you beamed. 

Warmth fluttered in his chest, and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, watching the waterfall. From the corner of your eye, you could see him cautiously edging closer to you. You chose not to react just yet, not wanting to risk frightening him. Slowly, delicately, he put his enormous arm around your shoulder. You leaned fully into his embrace and held his other hand against your cheek, relishing his warmth against the chilly air. 

[atomicstrawbrys]

A.K. (1/?)

Alfred is a high school star with everything he could possibly want- until a student comes from England and suddenly becomes priority number one. USUK. High school AU. //

Alfred had gotten to school late the day he fell in love. He’d had a doctor’s appointment that morning, checking on the arm he’d broken a few weeks prior. Arm in a cast and cast in a sling, Alfred walked into the doors of his high school two periods late, note in hand to excuse his partial absence. 

He’d managed to catch the school in between classes, so students shuffled along the halls as he entered, a few giving courteous nods or friendly smiles as they made eye contact. Alfred was beloved by many- resident wonder athlete and science geek, he made himself popular with most student groups, and even those outside his social sphere at least regarded him as a good guy. Alfred was an all-arounder in every sense of the word, and he prided himself on the fact that there wasn’t a person in his life that didn’t seem to like him. Well, except maybe for his brother’s boyfriend Ivan, but he lived in Russia for half the year so he really didn’t count.

Speaking of his brother, Alfred noticed Matthew approaching him, waving as blonde curls bounced lightly on his shoulders. “Al! You made it!”

“ ‘Course I did, Matt! Mom, let one of us miss a day of school? I’m pretty sure she’d make us go if we were dying, so this was nothin’.” Alfred laughed, elbowing Matthew with his good arm. “So, did I miss anything?” He asked, walking down the hall with him to put some of his stuff in his locker. 

“Actually, yeah.” Matthew shrugged. “Some new guy got here today- he’s all the way from England, can you believe that? I don’t know his name, though- he was only in one of my classes and I sort of forgot...he’s kinda weird, though, I don’t know- you’ll see what I mean.”

Alfred chuckled. “Weirder than you? This I gotta see.”

He walked up to his locker, and, after twisting the combination, he opened it up and dropped some of his things off. He waved as Matthew left to get his own books and head to his next class, and as he waved he noticed that the locker to his right no longer seemed unoccupied. Previously a plain grey, the locker now wore one sticker, a plain white rectangle with the initials “A.K.” printed in black font. “A.K.,” huh? He smiled. Apparently, he’d be seeing this new guy a lot. 

Before he could, though, the bell for third period rang, and he slammed his locker shut and ran the rest of his way to class. 

He settled down in his seat, a worn out, scratched up desk right beside his best friend.

“Hey, Gil.” He whispered, grinning. 

“Alfred! You made it.” Gilbert playfully punched his shoulder. “For a while there I thought you might have abandoned me today.” 

Alfred snorted, waving a hand to quiet him down. “Come on, man, I wouldn’t. Hey, listen- you know anything about this A.K. guy? The one from England? Matthew said something about him earlier, and I gotta say, anyone that that syrup-guzzling freak thinks is weird has sparked my interest.” 

“Oh, yeah! I do- I ran into him on the way in. And I mean literally ran into him. I knocked all his shit on the ground, and you should have heard the fancy British curses he threw at me!” Gilbert laughed. “I gotta remember some of those, man, he was creative.”

Settling into silence, Alfred spent most of his class mulling over what he knew about the oh-so-mysterious A.K. He was from England, he was...weird, apparently, and he had a temper on him. None of these sounded like particularly good personality traits, and though Alfred did hope that he was wrong and that this guy would turn out to be alright, he had his doubts. Having yet another student come in from another country was certainly interesting, though, even if his school did get a disproportionate amount of foreign students both temporary and permanent.

It seemed that he just kept barely missing A.K. throughout the day, as each time he would go to gather his things there would be a new sticker on the locker next door. A.K. was putting one on between each period. First was a sticker of the Loch Ness Monster, and Alfred could appreciate the elusive A.K.’s interest in cryptozoology. Hell, he was almost a cryptid himself, the way he drifted in and out without being seen, leaving only traces of his presence behind. Next came the rainbow flag sticker- Alfred didn’t have to guess what that meant. He did, however, have to look up the sticker that came after that, a similar flag with two pink stripes, two blue, and one white. The sticker after that was for a band Alfred didn’t recognize, but the last sticker, a monster that Alfred recognized from one of his favorite shows, indicated that perhaps he and A.K had at least a few common interests. 

When he approached his locker after his last class, he found himself walking just a little faster to try and catch his slippery neighbor before he went home. As he approached his locker, he saw that the one beside it was open, A.K. standing in front of it. The locker door obscured him from view, but Alfred could see black ripped jeans and heavy, heavy boots tipped with steel. 

“Uh, Hey!” He greeted, lightly knocking on the locker door. “I uh, haven’t met you yet! Name’s Alfred!” 

The stranger behind the door jumped and slammed it shut. He turned, and Alfred’s eyes widened. The world around him muffled and faded into irrelevance- the only thing worth paying attention to was the boy in front of him- with his black top and huge purple jacket, fur collar so large it tickled the bottoms of his ears. His head was a half-shaved mess of natural, sandy blond and dyed lavender, and his face- god, his face, all freckles and piercings and black lipstick, and beautiful, downright gorgeous green eyes accentuated by rings of black eyeliner. A.K was magnificent, in every sense of the word, and Alfred found himself suddenly not so heterosexual. 

“Can I help you?” The angel’s voice reached Alfred’s ears, and he giggled like an idiot before he could stop himself. This seemed to be a bad move, though, as A.K scowled at him, pulling on his backpack and stuffing his hands in his pockets. He started to push past him, but Alfred placed a hand on his shoulder before he could go. 

“Wait-! Uh, I’m sorry- I’m not laughing at you, I just- what’s your name?”

A.K. seemed skeptical, raising a thick eyebrow in Alfred’s direction.

“...Arthur. Now, I really must be going home. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, uh, Albert.” He shrugged Alfred’s hand off and shuffled down the hall, students naturally giving him a wide berth as he went.

Alfred, a lovestruck fool, sighed longingly and leaned against his locker, a hand clutched over his heart. Giggling again, he whispered.

“He almost knows my name!”