#once I collect more I might even make a poll about them

[universescreaming]

Okay so I’m creating a playlist of all the songs the 9-1-1 department has used during big emotional moments (because I love crying) but I’m blanking on a lot of them and there’s a good few that I had never heard before so if anyone has some suggestions please let me know!

[rooksunday]

thinking about fox getting his first poll card after the vode get citizenship. the guard scattered after sithsplosion day, but he and a score or so that were functionally useless without each other, like nervous space greyhounds with military training, all ended up bundled together on some planet in the mid rim.

he’s been working on a book about his years at the senate. no one knows about it aside from thorn, who has been checking his basic, and advising him where he needs to wind the reveals back a little because libel. the rest of the time he does payroll for a number of small businesses, picking and choosing his hours, and delighting in sending invoices for his business: the shiny security fund, he’s called it, to continue the tradition in a more official manner.

(when they’d been on triple zero, the fund had been for rations. blankets. bacta. they’d conned credits from tourists and stolen them from senators and turned those credits into hope for the poor bastards shipped to the city that ate shinies before they could ever earn paint. these days, the fund was for whatever his guard wanted. aside from a pony. fox couldn’t figure out where hound would keep the pony.)

the book had been born from two lists. one was the blackmail and gossip the guard had collected during their stint on coruscant; that was where thorn needed to check for dangers, but since most of those senators had died in sith-related incidents, or had been jailed when the media got hold of their dealings, all fox was doing was providing context.

the other part of the book was fox’s List. thire sometimes called it a manifesto, because he had been studying for his degree and liked to show off occasionally. the list was a suggestion of changes to the republic, some small, some large. it was a silly fancy of fox’s, as the whole book was, but if he couldn’t indulge himself in his own karkin’ book then they might as well have punted him off the high levels back on coruscant.

yet for all that he’d settled—and paid taxes, even—fox hadn’t felt part of the citizenship of the planet. then the poll card had arrived. and suddenly he mattered in a tangible way. just like the bothan baker next door did. just like the twi’lek downstairs, the one with the noisy kriffin’ speeder, did.

thorn found fox in the kitchen, still staring at the scrap of card. he rapped his knuckles on the doorframe.

“you okay there, chief?” he asked. he’d been trying out alternatives to ‘sir’. “noise complaint again?”

fox shook his head. he didn’t look up. “voting thing. there’s an election.”

“oh! yeah, we got ours yesterday. are you— what’s that face you’re making. i don’t think i like it.”

fox raised his head and gleamed his smile at thorn, who backed away slightly, one hand drifting to where a blaster once hung. fox’s eyes felt very wide. he jabbed the poll card like a vibroknife.

“do you know what this means?”

“democracy comes in two postal batches?”

“no! well, yes, apparently, and that’s inefficient, but— no!” fox jabbed the card again. “this means i am a citizen and i am about to make that a senator’s problem. where’s my manifes— list, thorn? it’s time for an update.”

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 1

Welcome to my other AU that I couldn't wait until September to show you all. I know, I know the closing ceremonies for the Olympics are tomorrow, which is another reason to get this in before all the fanfare dies.

Summary: When a freak accident at his third Olympics left him with migraines and a fear of deep water, Steve thought his Olympic dreams were dead—until delinquent Eddie Munson arrived at his pool to do community service. Steve witnesses Eddie's swimming talent and realizes his dreams don't have to be over. Now it's a race to get Eddie Olympic ready in two years. Steve's going for gold, but Eddie might have other interests in mind.

~I know I forgot to post the results of the poll regarding which time period to set this story in. But I got the notification on my phone while I was busy and by the time I got to my laptop, I forgot. And kept forgetting.

Most people wanted Eddie's Olympics to be in 2004 but after talking to people in the tags and comments, I decided on 2012 instead. Sorry about that.

~

Steve Harrington grew up with parents who pushed him hard in everything he did. He had to be the best at playing the piano, basketball, baseball, singing, formal dancing, and swimming. But of all those things Steve excelled at swimming the best. Because once he put his cap on over his ears, the roar of the crowd dimmed and then vanished the second he hit the water.

Those other things? Suddenly no longer mattered because Steve wasn’t just good at swimming, he was brilliant. From when he first started competing when he was eleven there was always talk about the Olympics. Always the Olympics.

So it was something he was being pushed toward. World Championships and other competitions were just trials for the Olympics as far his father was concerned.

His father. Clint Harrington, who had never worked hard for anything in his life, who had his job handed to him by his dad, who was a raging, frat boy narcissist who drank his weight in alcohol before he was even twenty-one. Who collected guns but never shot one in his life and didn’t even know how to load one. The man who decided that because his life was soft, his son’s could not be.

When he got fifth at the Olympics at age fourteen everyone was amazed and even a little shocked. Clint Harrington was disappointed. Even though everyone knew that boys his age were still growing and changing and once he had settled into his body, he would do more than just medal, he would take home gold.

Which is exactly what happened his second Olympics. He was eighteen and just coming into his own. He walked away with three silver medals, four gold, and a bronze. The bronze is what upset Clint Harrington the most.

How dare he only take third! The audacity!

Where was his mother in all this? Maureen Harrington was bragging at all her country clubs, charity dos that her son was an Olympic gold medalist. Never mind her friends had never met him. That they saw more of him on their TV then she had since he turned ten. That was when she decided that he was big enough to handle himself and promptly stopped interacting him.

Clint hadn’t even noticed, he was so focused on making sure Steve won at any cost. He hired the best coaches, built a swimming pool in the backyard, drove him to all his meets, all of it; just so Steve could be the best at any cost.

There was only one line Clint didn’t cross, which honestly surprised everyone who knew him. He didn’t suggest Steve dope up. Steve wasn’t sure if it was because he was a coward and was afraid Steve would get caught, or if he just merely thought Steve could be pushed into perfection without them.

But he was always grateful that it was the one line Clint Harrington refused to cross.

And then it happened. It was 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing, China. Steve was poised to break several records and win a staggering amount of medals. He was in eight events and everyone was expecting him to medal in every one of them.

But the only things he broke that year, was his head, his hopes, his dreams, and his spirit. For in the very first event the jump board he was on, slipped out from under him as jumped. His head hit the side of the pool and he sunk like a stone to the bottom.

He didn’t remember much, the roar of the crowd turned to screams, the sicking crunch as his head hit the side and then the rush of water all around him as he sunk, weightless to eternity.

When he woke up, all Steve was left with was migraines and a fear of large bodies of water.

His dad walked away that day and he never saw him again.

~

Two Years Later

Eddie Munson was in deep trouble and he knew it. He had been arrested with enough weed on him to know it wasn’t for personal use. Possession with intent to sell. Thank god it happened two weeks before his eighteenth birthday otherwise he’d be facing real jail time and not.. community service?

Wait, what?

He was expecting probation at the very least. But nope. He was sentenced to five hundred hours of community service as it was his first offense, he had a troubled childhood, and apparently the God damned Chief of Police on his side. Who had said that he was a good kid who protected the weak and participated in afterschool programs to help teach them math, creative writing, cooperative skills, troubleshooting, and time management.

Eddie’s lawyer told him before Hopper was to testify at his sentencing hearing that he could not laugh, could not chuckle, could not even so much as snort or smile. When Eddie asked why, he was told he couldn’t be told that or else it would be seen as influencing his testimony. And then Hopper got up on the stand and said that.

D&D. Eddie DM’ed D&D after school. Jesus Christ did it take everything he had not to show any emotion at all.

Five hundred hours was nothing to slouch at. It came out to roughly three months. And he could only work eight hour days. He had barely graduated high school by the skin of his teeth and a fair amount of flattery.

Chief Hopper came to pick him up personally for his first day of community service.

Eddie came barreling out of his trailer only to stop in his tracks when he saw Hopper leaning up against his pickup truck arms folded and ankles crossed.

“Chief,” he said dryly. “To what do I owe this rather dubious pleasure?”

“Get in the truck, boy,” Hop growled. “I’m doing your uncle a favor and making sure you actually show up. And I will be taking you every day. You’ll work five days a week for eight hours a day. You will have three people sign off on your sheet every day. Me, Joyce Byers, and your direct supervisor, Murray Bauman. Every god damn day. Because if you miss one signature, one day and you’ll be thrown in jail. Do. You. Understand?”

Eddie gulped.

He nodded and quietly moved around the truck to get in on the passenger side, head down and shoulders rounded. He didn’t utter a single word the whole trip. He just followed Hopper through the doors and into Joyce’s office.

Sitting behind the desk was a lovely woman with kind eyes, standing beside her was a balding man with beady eyes behind thick glasses. Eddie hadn’t liked the sight of him at all. He just hoped the guy didn’t make his already miserable life even worse.

Joyce broke down all his duties, when he could take breaks and a lunch, and that those would be included in his service hours. He would get access to all the facilities but with the proviso that if a client wanted what he was using, he would have to give it to them.

Whatever that meant.

“Come on,” she finished. “Let me show you around, then Murray will spend all of today training you.”

She stood up and Eddie immediately followed.

“Hopper will sign you in,” Joyce explained, handing a clipboard with his time sheet on it and a pen to the police chief.

He signed it and handed it back to her, she put it on her desk.

“Then Murray and I will sign it when you’re done for the day,” she continued as she moved around the desk. “You are allowed sick days but only five, unless signed off by a doctor.”

Eddie breathed a sigh of relief on that one. He got hay fever something fierce in early September and there were some days that it got so bad he couldn’t see.

All three men followed her out the door. Hopper stopped in front of it.

“This is where I get off,” he said gruffly. “You’ll have to find your own way home as I’ll be at work when you get done.”

Eddie nodded. He shook hands with him and watched as he left.

Joyce smiled at Eddie brightly. “Let’s go.”

She showed him where all the equipment was and that he was charged with wiping it all down once an hour. They continued on and suddenly he heard it.

A sound he had not heard in years.

The sound of kids’ playful screams echoing around the sounds of splashing water. Holy shit, Uncle Wayne, he thought nervously. What did you do for the Chief of Police, hide a body?

Joyce opened the door and led Eddie through the humid air and strong scent of chlorine, pointing out his duties. Which included mopping the floors and grabbing the great big laundry baskets that held the complimentary towels to be taken to washed and also restock them every morning.

Eddie was practically vibrating now. Yeah, sure it was shit grunt work that was meant to be deliberately demeaning, but he got access to the pool. He would be able to swim again and for more than just a couple of times a summer where they would have free swim days when it got too hot.

They got to the end of the tour and Joyce turned around to face him, clapping her hands together.

“So you ready to get to work?”

Eddie sighed. Because yeah that part still sucked. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

“That’s the spirit!” she said with a laugh.

~

Steve stepped out of the showers and toweled off the best he could, throwing his white trainer polo on.

Because this pool was in Indianapolis where Olympic trials had been held more than a couple of times, it had the best of services for swimmers that could be offered. You had the standard lifeguards in the red polos, the coaches in the blue polos, and the trainers like him in white. It was supposed to be patriotic, but there were far too many countries that had the red, white, and blue color scheme for Steve to do anything but scoff at the notion.

What was the difference between a trainer and a coach? Well it depended on who you asked. If you asked a trainer, they would tell you age. They taught beginning, intermediate, and advanced classes.

If you asked a coach? They would tell that trainers only taught coaches inspired. They brought out the best in their students, fostered a love of water, and coached them in competitions.

They also had state of the art facilities, too. A kiddie pool, two Olympic sized swimming pools, an outdoor pool and water park, and even an endless pool.

Steve loved the endless pool. It was fifteen feet long and eight feet wide with a current that you could change the speed on so you could build up strength and endurance. It was how he unwound every day.

He stepped out of the men’s changing rooms and smiled at his assistant trainer, Robin Buckley who was waiting for him.

“You ready for another day of screaming, terrified children?” she asked with a grin, slinging one arm around his shoulders.

He returned her grin.

“You better believe it!”

~

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Also on the 14th, I'll be throwing myself a birthday party on my new Discord server for my writing. Link here. Come join me, ask questions about me or my work. I like to chat. I'll still be doing WIP Wednesday but a more informal vibe in Discord, too.

Tag list: TEN SLOTS REMAINING

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[infamous-if]

.2

I know, I know. It took 2 months to write the second drabble from the poll but...this is not even a drabble anymore. Instead, it's more of a collection of scenes mostly because if I do write how Orion found and began managing the band it would be an entire chapter. I will say that I condensed this due to that, but if I ever do write the whole thing it might look a *little* different. I had to cut corners and shorten scenes for the sake of length. Still, hope you like it! (This is 4, 363 words btw. what is wrong with me) I should probably find a more efficient way to share such long works but whatevs. As always, ignore any mistakes or typos or wordy sentences or sentences that probably make no sense upon reading it a second time. I don't edit drabbles and I always just publish the first drafts. haha.

“…Love me and hate me, I don’t mind as long as you take me—”

A low grumble rises in Orion’s throat when the song pauses, the car falling into an unfamiliar silence just as it slows in front of a red light. His large hands tighten their grip on the wheel, and his eyes glide to his co-worker, Marty, just as he’s pulling his hand away from the PAUSE button on the console. 

“Is there a reason you’re touching my stuff?” Orion asks, his voice carrying its usual calm that holds a level of ice that has even his superiors shuddering when they think he’s not looking. 

Marty licks his lips, his face twisting into its usual expression of guilt. Orion softens his face for his friend’s sake.

Orion Quinn knows the impact he has on people. The rumors that plague him have reached his ears on multiple occasions; he’s a shell of what he once was, never having gotten over the one who got away. He’s detached, the merciless worker that the boss goes to when he’s in need of someone who can do the firing.

 He’s the one people are afraid of crossing or talking casually to in fear of letting something slip. People fear him more than they fear the execs. 

It wasn’t always like this, sure. Once, Orion used to smile freely, used to talk openly and wear vulnerability like a favorite coat. But then the divorce happened and sides were taken. Suddenly, the armor he didn’t know he had was reinforced, dented and bruised from a battle he didn’t expect to fight, but reinforced nonetheless. 

Never date your co-workers. 

“The song is terrible, man.” Marty sighs, running a hand through his oily brown hair when he plops back in the seat. The same seat he pushed back at a 120-degree angle. Admittedly, it makes Orion’s nerves flare up. He says nothing;  he has enough self-awareness to know that complaining about his seat is a bit too much, even for him. “I was doing both our ears a favor.”

The light changes and Orion absently drums his fingers on the wheel as he drives on ahead, eyes gliding outside to soak in the densely populated street underneath the rising sun. “Yeah.” The word comes out in a resigned breath. “I was hoping it’d get better.” 

“We were on the bridge,” Marty throws back. “The only way it could get better is if it ended.” Orion’s lip twitches and of course, Marty can’t let it go. ”Oh! That was an almost-smile.” He leans forward to poke Orion’s rib. 

Orion lets out a laugh before his face quickly drops.

Marty grins, plopping his elbow on the ledge of the car door. “All I’m saying is you’ve been listening to demos nonstop this whole month. Not once have I seen you even mildly excited for any of them.”

Orion grits his teeth. “I haven’t had anything substantial to show the team in ages. Our last artist pulled out on signing with us last minute. Our established artists aren’t selling as well anymore. The industry is getting oversaturated—“

“—and we need to be ahead of the curve. Yadda, yadda.” Marty rolls his eyes. “Do you ever just relax? Damn. That stick up your ass is ten-feet lon—“

Marty chokes on his words when Orion’s eyes cut to his. “Say anything else and I’m kicking you out of my car.” 

Marty pouts but relents anyway, choosing to change the subject. “What about dating?”

Orion keeps his eyes on the road but quirks a brow. “What about it?”

“You know…” Marty starts, gesticulating vaguely as he searches for the right words. “Maybe putting yourself out there could help you relax. Or even inspire you—“ 

“No.”

“What? Okay, but—"

“Not interested.”

“You didn’t even know what I was going to sa—“

“Don’t have to.” 

Marty huffs and says nothing for a long moment. Neither of them rush to fill the silence; normal for Orion but unusual for his infinitely more talkative friend. It’s only when he pulls into Carolina Records’ parking lot that Marty speaks again and Orion realizes his silence was really just contemplation.

“I know the divorce was difficult,” he starts, delicate, “but—“

Orion’s jaw clenches.

“— that doesn’t mean you should give up.”

Orion sits there a moment, fingers clenching into fists. “It’s not giving up if I never tried in the first place.” He swings open the door and steps out, the car door slamming with a hint of finality.

. . .

Carolina Records boasts a twenty-floor skyscraper made up of floor-to-ceiling glass windows and sleek, dark marble floor. Orion has been here since he graduated college; going from a measly intern to an A&R representative responsible for finding two of the most promising artists in the company. 

That was a year ago. Since then, the well of new talent has dried up and Orion doesn’t know what to do.

Of course, he was offered higher positions, all of which he quickly denied. Orion always had a knack for numbers and trends, discovering what new genre is going to come to the forefront, seeing what kind of music the general public is listening to. Music: he understands it better than people. His understanding is almost clinical: while people listen to it for enjoyment, Orion seeks the patterns, the feelings that every beat and scale and vocal run they invoke. He takes it apart and puts it together like a surgeon does a patient. It just makes sense to him. 

He could do so much more, he knows that, but none of that interests him.

The music—that’s what he likes. 

Discovering new talent is what excites him. Which is why this odd dry spell has him walking with gritted teeth and tension between his shoulders-blades. He has to do something.

“Mr. Quinn.” 

Orion nods at a woman who passes by the hallway, ignoring the way Marty does a whole spin when he tracks her retreating frame down the hall.

Another one. This time a man from the marketing department. “Good Morning, Mr. Quinn.” 

“Morning.”

Marty scoffs when the man continues walking, not sparing him a glance. 

“Am I chopped liver or something?” Marty complains.

“Mr. Quinn, hey!”

“Hi.” Orion nods his head once and presses the elevator button. When his eyes land on a frowning Marty he says, “You’re just not sociable.”

“Huh?!” Marty then lets out an embarrassingly high-pitched sputter of a laugh. “And you are?”

Orion frowns. “Yes.”

Another laugh. “You’re smart, dude, you know it’s more because of that”— he gestures vaguely at him—“than your social skills.”

The elevator doors open with a cheerful bell and they step inside. “What?”

“You know.” Marty shrugs. “Your face. You look like you should be on a billboard advertising overpriced cologne with your shirt unbuttoned and your hand in your hair talking about your luxurious life or something.”

“That’s…specific.”

Marty shrugs. “I read a lot of GQ.” 

Orion wrinkles his nose when they spin to face the doors. “While it is true I would be considered objectively handsome by societal standards—“

“Oh, fuck off.”

“—I don’t think that’s the case.” This time Orion lets out a small smile. “Or maybe it is?” He quirks a brow at his co-worker. “Should I send a gift basket to my parents? A ‘thank-you-for-the-superior-DNA gift?’”

Marty shakes his head.  “You know, when you do try to be funny you still sound like an asshole.”

Orion hums, the joke tickling him enough for him to let out his first smile of the day. 

The elevator doors sing their arrival and they bid farewell once they part to go to their respective offices. Orion strides to his corner office where another one of his co-workers, Kass, is standing with a box in her hands.

“This week’s demos.” Orion is just putting his arms out when she plops the boxes on them. “You should really stop requesting unsolicited demos. It’s such an outdated way of doing things.”

Orion ignores her and unlocks his office door, turning the knob and pushing it open with his hip. His office is barren but spacious, with high windows overlooking the city. Marty told him once that people would kill to have his office, but really it’s just like any other space. What’s an office without a productive person to work in it? Orion hasn’t done anything of meaning in weeks.

Sighing, he drops the box on the table unceremoniously, picking up the first CD on the top of the pile. GROUNDED IN REALITY reads the title, and it’s so apt that he almost chucks the CD in the trash on that very fact alone. Still, he’s nothing if not fair. Another sigh escapes him and he gets to listening. 

. . .

Helpless.

That’s how he feels.

After hours of listening, the music has long since blurred together in a portrait of uninspired melodies and generic, radio-friendly lyrics. Nothing stood out, nothing made him want to dig into the song in search for more, nothing made him feel.

Is it me? Am I the problem?

Jaw clenched, Orion fishes out his phone, the usual flinch coming to him when he sees the background. He forgot to change it, and it’s always an (unwanted) surprise whenever he sees a picture of them together. 

One year ago. The beach. Happy.

Shaking his head, he sends a quick text to his mother telling her that he’ll have to raincheck on their dinner. He still has half a box of songs left. Looks like he’ll be staying late.

“Yo, Orion!” A knock. “Let’s go! I want to driiink.”

Or not.

Marty strides in without waiting for an invitation, a grin on his face. “Tab is on me.”

“Do you ever work?” Orion asks, eyes half-lidded in equal parts annoyance and indifference. 

His friend frowns. “This is work.”

“I don’t think getting drunk is in the job description.” Orion looks down, absently clicking on the button of his mouse in an effort to busy his hands. 

“Wah, wah. Don’t be a fucking party pooper.”

 “Too late.”

Marty shoots him a look. “A few artists are playing tonight. Call this recruitment.” He uses spirit fingers. “Maybe you’ll even loosen up for once.” When Orion looks at him, a brow raised, Marty drops his hands. “Yes, I do my job sometimes. Don’t look so surprised.”

“It’s not that,” Orion starts. He doesn’t immediately continue. Instead, they simply stare at each other. Marty wiggles his brows as Orion narrows his gaze. “When you say the tab is on you—“

Marty whips out a black card. “Company card, baby!”

Orion palms his face with a long groan as Marty begins to moonwalk across Orion’s office. “I was perfectly fine staying inside.” Even though he says this, a moment later he stands and grabs his trenchcoat from the back of the chair. “And you’re driving.”

“What!” Marty stomps his foot as he follows him out. “Nooooo.” 

. . .

The bar sits in a livelier part of the city, a part that Orion doesn’t often find himself in. It’s less about the scene and more about the memories associated with every damn corner of this place. Orion can pluck a memory from his mind like a petal from a rose garden: the diner they went to and fought for fifteen minutes over who would get to pay the bill, the park they spent their lunches at.

The shop where he bought the ring.

“This place is golden,” Marty says, breaking Orion out of the string of memories he wishes he could erase forever, “it’s like a real gritty, underground hole-in-the-wall vibe.”

“Sounds like fun,” comes out of Orion in a dour tone that has Marty rolling his eyes. 

They stride through the neon glow of the brick hall until it opens up to a dimly lit bar. The space is humble; the sparse crowd is compensated by the energy of the performers on the stage. 

“Stacy, do you remember when I mowed your lawn…?”

“Is the band really covering Fountains of Wayne?” Orion says through gritted teeth.

Marty bites his lower lip, his obvious attempt to stifle laughter only making Orion’s faux horror flare even more. “Maybe.” Marty spins around, shimmying his shoulder. “You don’t agree that Stacy’s Mom Has Got It Going on?” Marty then realizes something and laughs. “You know, I dated a Stacy once. Weirdly enough, her mom wasn’t that bad looking—“

Orion sighs and quickly moves to the bar. “I need a drink.”

Whatever hope Orion had of finding new talent is gone in the face of the line-up. It quickly becomes obvious that the performers are composed of people who aren’t taking the ‘gig’ seriously or patrons that are half-drunk and stumbling on the small stage.

Worse that the place is pathetically empty; it’s only them two and three other stragglers eating stale fries and bobbing their heads to the music, more out of obligatory politeness than anything else. Orion is suddenly regretting taking Marty up on his offer. 

Orion drinks his lager through periodic gulps, his desire to forget this night growing with every person that performs. The memories of this area coupled with his lack of work lately make him dizzy. He wants to escape. Quit. Scream. All of it.

“Get me another,” Orion says, much to Marty’s delight.

More and more people perform until Orion has lost any focus on the stage. Instead, he entertains himself by watching the game on the TV, having long given up on finding any new promising talent in a place like this. 

“Next up we have”—the bartender stops, her eyes narrowing as she tries to read something off an index card—“er, [band]. Yeah. Give them a round of applause.”

With how few people are in attendance, the applause is less applause and more awkward clapping that quickly dies after two. 

The people on stage are younger. Immediately, Orion notices that they’re equipped with actual instruments instead of relying on the karaoke machine in the corner. A decisive point in their favor, he decides.

“You said this was a gig…” He hears one of them say to what appears to be the lead singer. The boy wears a red hat, as well as an assortment of chains on his neck. Three other band members set up their instruments, trying not to look too disappointed by the turnout. Still, even with the lager creating a slight fog in his head, Orion knows that look. The moment when hope dies, burning like a napkin to a flame.

“No,” the lead singer says pointedly as they adjust their mic, “I said this was a favor.” In that moment, the singer nods their head at the bartender, who shoots them an appreciative thumbs-up. “A paid favor.”

The boy shakes his head but snorts. “I guess.” 

Once they’re set up, the singer looks ahead, gazing at the bar. Their eyes briefly settle on Orion as they gaze at the few faces in the room. “Hey!” they say, chirpy. “We’re [band]. Thanks for coming out!”

A chorus of muttering replies.

Marty taps on the bar. “Wanna head out?”

Orion, unable to look away, shakes his head. “No. I want to see this.”

The next few minutes feel like a dream. Orion is in a daze as the song plays, the beats piercing through him. The voice sends goosebumps up his arms, the instruments weave together in a perfect harmony that has Orion’s heart racing. When the song ends, it’s too soon. He wants it to keep going. He doesn’t want it to end. 

He wants more.

“Thanks!” The singer says to a smattering of slightly enthusiastic applause. This is the most energy everyone has had all night. They turn, grab their things, and disappear through the curtain. Orion bursts up….

…spilling his drink on the table.

“Oh!” the bartender squeaks as Marty hisses.

“Aw, fuck.” Orion curses, and then flinches. “Sorry. Uh….sorry.” He doesn’t know what his apology is for. Dropping the drink, cussing, or speeding away before he could help clean it up in order to catch the band backstage?

“Hey!” Marty calls. “Where are you going?”

Orion ignores him. He has a one-track mind right now, one focused on finding the band that just made him feel like he hit the jackpot. This. This is what he’s been looking for. 

The door swings open, and the band stop mid-conversation to look at Orion, who busted through the door without so much as a plan or script in place. Instead, he simply stands there. 

“Uh.” One girl, flaunting bright blue hair, says. “Yeah?”

Orion reveals his card, feeling a bit like a robot. He moves on automatic, working through the many thoughts in his head to utter the rest of his words. “Do you have a manager?”

. . . 

“You want to manage us?”

The din of the coffee shop sings with the sound of plates and aimless chatter. It’s been two days since he heard them perform back at the bar, and Orion has been running through his pitch the way one does before an interview. He’s never been this…nervous? Uncertain? In his life. 

“Yes,” is Orion’s only response. He sits on one side of the table while the band sits on the other; an invisible wall between them. He can see it, their apprehension. He is not one of them. 

Not yet, at least. 

“Wait.” The boy Orion learned is named Rowan leans forward, fingers on the table. “How do we know this isn’t a scam?”

“I’m not asking for money. All I ask is for you to show up to play for my boss. That’s it.” Auditions are a lost art. Nowadays artists are recruited through viral internet songs and connections. Two things that always exhausted Orion. It hasn’t been just about the music in a long time. 

Their eyes widen. They all exchange looks, equal parts excited and wary. 

“Why?” [MC], who he learned is the sole singer of the band, asks.

Because you made me feel something. Because listening to you is the first time I felt human in a long time.

He imagines himself waving off those words like mist. “Because you’re the first band that has caught my attention. And it’s not easy to catch my attention.”

The band member named Iris snorts. 

“I’m not trying to be arrogant,” he says blandly, leaning back in his chair to fold his arms over his chest. “It’s the truth.”

“Where do you work?” Another member, Devyn, asks. 

“Carolina Records.”

Multiple pairs of eyes widen.

“Holy shit.” Jazzy laughs. “The Carolina Records?”

Orion nods, used to this kind of reaction. Starry-eyed artists are pretty much the same when it comes to Carolina. “Yes.” He leans forward, his heart racing. “Just one audition. That’s all I ask.” 

He watches as they all exchange looks; a silent language only they share. After an agonizing moment, [MC] turns to him and nods. “When?”

. . . . 

Orion has been pacing for the last half hour.

He stands outside Carolina’s humble theater space, chewing on his nails as he waits for his boss, Jacob Hill, and a smattering of other executives and shareholders that will be the final word in whether Orion can work with [band]. He hasn’t asked for something this big in so long that Jacob Hill immediately said yes, more out of excitement and surprise than anything else. Orion did produce two of their most profitable artists in the company. 

The elevator doors open and Orion stops in place, head whipping up to see them walking through the hall in a wave of black suits and greased hair. Orion brushes down his shirt, trying to dampen his nerves. Jesus. Nerves? Get a grip, Orion. 

He doesn’t know how to stand as he waits for them to approach. Hands in pockets? Arms crossed? Orion is so indecisive he just resorts to standing straight, arms at his sides. 

“Mr. Hill.” Orion shakes his hand, clearing his throat. He makes his polite greetings to the rest of the team and says, “Thank you for making time for me.”

“Always, Orion.” Jacob slaps a large hand on his back. “You’re one of my best. You should ask me for favors more.”

Orion lets out a small, slightly nervous laugh. “Ah, you know. I like to—“

“—do things on your own,” Jacob finishes, a soft smile on his face. “I get it.”

He slowly looks up, meeting Jacob’s eyes. In them he can see the familiar pity he’s gotten since the divorce. 

It’s Orion’s fault, really. If he didn’t isolate himself and turn into what he is now, people wouldn’t look at him and assume he’s broken inside.

Would they be wrong in their assumption, though? Am I broken inside?

“Shall we?” another executive says, and Orion bobs his head in a nod, pushing away the image of Jacob’s face.

Inside is a small theater, the stage just big enough for one artist. The seats are plush leather, the lights dim but blue. Jacob always likes the spectacle, and he catered this space to feel like a real performance for possible signees. Orion decides against sitting, too nervous to do anything but stand in the back, giving them the signal he taught them in his pep talk before they came.

[MC] nods. “Um. Hi. We’re [band]. I’m [MC] and this is Iris, Rowan, Devyn, and Jazzy. And um…this is [song].”

Orion flinches at the lackluster introduction. Doesn’t matter, he thinks, unfamiliarly optimistic, the music will do the talking.

And it does.

But not in the way he thought.

All throughout the song, Orion peeks at Jacob and his team. He wants to celebrate when he sees them bobbing their heads, wants to curse when they get on their phones. Orion has never worried this much in his whole career. He’s never wanted something so bad. 

He’s never allowed himself to want. Not after the divorce. 

He didn’t think he was deserving of getting what he wanted. 

The song ends, and Orion lets out a breath. There’s muffled chatter between the men, and on stage the band crowd together, hopping in place as they let out their remaining nerves. 

Jacob stands, the rest following. Orion speeds ahead, wanting to see the thoughts on his face. Instead, Jacob simply regards him with thin lips.

“They were…good,” Jacob whispers, putting a hand on Orion’s shoulder and guiding him out of the room and to the empty hall, “but I think we’re going to go in another direction.”

Orion’s positivity leaks out of him like an open faucet. “What.”

Jacob inhales through his nose. “Look, the singer is talented. They all are. I understand why you like them but…” He shakes his head. “I don’t think the guys see it. And plus,” he shrugs, “they don’t have what we’re looking for.”

Orion’s brows furrow. His stomach drops in itself and his mouth dries. “They have another song. They could play it—“

“Orion.” Jacob gives him that pitying expression again. Fucking hell. He wants to smack that expression off his face. “I know you’ve been…off, since the divorce. You haven’t been on top of your game, and I’ve been giving you your space. It’s not easy, especially since you worked together—“

“I’m fine,” he says tightly.

“—but you can’t…fixate on something to get over it. You need to do it the healthy way. The old Orion would’ve brought me someone with pizzazz. With that unique Orion touch, you know?” Jacob pulls him close. Orion is reduced to a scolded child, unable to do anything but listen. “This isn’t the Orion I know. You usually bring me diamonds.” 

“I—“ Orion swallows. “I’m trying.” And it’s the most honest thing he’s said in ages. He’s trying. And it’s not working. He’s been trying the day he signed that fucking divorce paper and signed the only life he’s known away. 

“I know you are,” Jacob says, squeezing his shoulder. “Sometimes we miss, and that’s alright.”

The rest of the group filter out and both Jacob and Orion step back, trying to hide any sign of their tense conversation. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Orion nods slowly, the lump in his throat growing as he feels multiple eyes on him. His jaw is clenched, his eyes are downturned. He can hardly look at his boss.

He stands there, frozen, forced to listen to their careless chatter as they walk down the hall. The moment they stepped out of those doors, they forgot about the band. The same band that made him feel something, the first time since his divorce. The same band he can’t get out of his head. The same band that proved he is not broken. He can still feel.

And they don’t even fucking care.

“I quit,” Orion says, the words coming out of him before he could even think. Jacob and Co turn around, twin expressions of shock on their faces. Orion looks up, straightening, trying to look even an inch of the Old Him.

“What?” Jacob blurts. 

“I quit.” Orion swallows. “I’ll formally hand in my resignation tomorrow.” He bows, trying to muster up the little respect and professionalism he has in him. “I’m sorry.”

“Orion—“

He spins around, walking back inside. 

The band is still on stage, this time all packed up and ready to go. When the door closes, they all look up, their hopeful and wide eyes on Orion as he walks down to the stage.

He stops in front of it. He puts two palms on the stage, looking at the members of the band he will take to the top. He promised it to himself…two minutes ago.

“I’m going to ask again,” Orion says through his teeth, his heart racing with the adrenaline of his quitting. What the fuck is he doing? And why does it feel so good? “Do you still need a manager?”

When he looks up, the band stares at him in silence.  

He witnesses [MC] look behind him at the door, where Jacob and his team left. As if realizing something, they look back down. “Yeah. You okay with another artist in your roster?”

“Yes.” Orion nods. He’s okay with it. 

Because all he needs is one. 

[canirove]

Friends, lovers… and an orange | Chapter 18

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

"Hello, Mason. Please come in" Adele chuckled, closing her apartment’s door after he stormed into it.

"Addie, sorry" he said, walking back to where she was standing and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Hi."

"Hi" she smiled.

"I've missed you."

"You literally saw me this morning, Mase" she laughed. 

"Enough to miss you" he said before kissing her.

"Masw" Adele giggled as he moved to kiss her neck. "Mase, please… Mason!" she complained when he bit her. "That's gonna leave a mark!"

"I know" he smirked.

"That is very naughty."

"Look who is talking" he laughed.

"Whatever" Adele replied. "How was your meeting?"

"Urgh, the meeting" Mason said, resting his forehead on her shoulder.

"That bad was it?" she asked, running her fingers through his hair.

"Worse."

"Why don't we sit on the sofa and you tell me all about it?"

"Only if you let me rest my head on your lap while you touch my hair like that. It feels so good…"

"Ok" she chuckled. "Now, the meeting" she said once they had sat down.

"My agency is the worst."

"We already knew that, Mase."

"But now we have confirmed it. They said no to denying the pregnancy rumours."

"What?" 

"Addie, my hair!"

"Sorry, sorry" she apologized. 

"You can't do that. My job depends on it, you know?" Mason said, rubbing his hand where Adele had pulled from. 

"You didn't complain that much when I did it last night" she smirked.

"It was a different situation. And it didn't feel as if you were about to leave me bald."

"Sorry. I got a bit carried away" she apologized again. "But why don't they want to deny the rumours?"

"Because people are very invested in them, that's why. Some fans are already doing polls about it being a boy or a girl and even making names lists, and a couple of magazines have already asked if we want to do an exclusive announcement with them."

"What?"

"Yeah…" Mason sighed.

"I can't believe they want to keep going with this lie."

"There is more, tho."

"More?"

"Yep. They want you to wear loose clothes in all the events we attend during fashion month and act as if you are hiding the bump."

"Oh… my God."

"Told you they were the worst."

"And we can't say no, can we?" Adele said.

"I'm afraid not."

"This is sick, Mason."

"I know, Addie. I know" he sighed again. 

"And just after I got really good news…"

"Good news? What happened?" he asked, sitting up. 

"Maria Grazia called me earlier. She said she would like me to photograph a project they are working on."

"With Dior?"

"Yep."

"Oh my God, Addie. That's amazing!" Mason said while hugging her. "What is it about?"

"They want to create some kind of bts content of the new collection, like how the clothes are made, the fittings, the models’ casting, then the chaos of the day of the show… And while one team makes the video content, they want me to be in charge of the photos. She said they like how organic the ones I take look like, how they make you feel as if you are there when they are taken."

"And they aren't wrong. You are so talented, Adele."

"I think you are a bit biased here" she laughed.

"Just a bit" he chuckled. "But I'm serious. When I've been on set and people have asked me about us and about you, many have praised your photos and said they love your Instagram account. And I don't think they were saying it because you are my girlfriend and they wanted to flatter me."

"Yeah, but… I feel like an imposter. Like they only want me because I am Elizabeth Turlington's daughter and Mason Mount's girlfriend."

"Some might. But I don't think that's Maria Grazia's case. She loves your work."

"You think?" Adele asked.

"I'm certain of it. So say yes to her offer and wow them with your amazing talent."

"Mase!" she laughed.

"What? Did I lie?" he shrugged.

"You are the worst."

"Yet you love me."

"Very much" she smiled before kissing him.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"I'm sorry about all that, Maria Grazia."

"Don't worry, Adele."

"They should have not followed me here, they said they were going to respect me while I was working." 

"It's Paris fashion week, there are paparazzis and photographers everywhere" Maria Grazia shrugged. "What matters is that you are ok. Are you?"

"Yes, I am. Thank you for asking" she smiled.

"Great. Then let's get to work, the models are waiting upstairs."

"Perfect" Adele said, taking a deep breath and following Maria Grazia. 

It was the day before Dior's new show, and she was going to photograph some of the models during their fittings. So far she had been loving everything about this job, from how the photos were looking to how nice everyone had been and everything she had learnt. The only bad thing, were the paparazzis.

Every time she left her hotel they would be waiting outside, and it didn't matter if it was just her alone or if she was with Mason. They would shove their cameras on her face, asking her if it was true she was pregnant, if her mother and Toni were happy about it, if Mason was going to propose. Because that was the new topic of conversation going around after all the times they had been seen together since fashion month had started: when he was going to ask her to marry him. Mason had told her to not worry about it, but seeing how much his agency loved following the trends going on around them, she could see them asking them to do a fake proposal in the Eiffel tower or something over the top like that. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"They are seriously amazing, Adele" one of the models said while she showed them some of the photos she had taken.

"Thank you" she smiled.

"You don't see a nepobaby who actually is talented that often" another one said, winking at her. 

"Mason is very talented."

"And hot" another added, making the other girls giggle.

"You are so lucky, Adele" the first girl said. "He's hot, talented, and completely infatuated with you."

"And she also is infatuated with him, look at the colour of her cheeks."

"I would too. Have you seen those underwear photos? I don't think they photoshoped anything… if you know what I mean."

"Ok girls, that's enough" another model said, joining their group. "Please forgive them."

"Sorry if my nepobaby comment bothered you. It was just a joke."

"It's ok, don't worry. And you weren't lying" Adele shrugged.

"Can you also confirm my theory about Mason on that shoot?"

"Can we please stop talking about Adele's boyfriend's dick and get out of here?" the last model who joined their group said. "We were going out for drinks, weren't we? Will you join us, Adele?"

"I… I don't know…"

"Is your boyfriend's dick waiting for you?" the model asked with a teasing smile.

"He is attending a couple of shows today and…"

"Then you are coming with us" she said, linking her arm with Adele’s. "I'm Rianne, by the way. I think we didn't introduce each other properly earlier."

"Nice to meet you, Rianne" she smiled.

"Shall we, girls? If we want to find a good table we need to leave now."

"But just one drink, Rianne. Don't forget we have to work tomorrow" one of the other girls said.

"Just one, I promise. Or two or three" she whispered in Adele's ear, making her laugh.

[anim-ttrpgs]

Patreon Poll and Kickstarter Funds Update

Alright, we’ve had a weekend to rest and now it’s time to get back to work. We already have almost ten new snoops done and ready to be put in the rulebook, "FORIVA: The Angel Game" is almost completely reworked and ready for patreon re-release, and we might have new merchandise coming soon.

As soon as "FORIVA: The Angel Game" is done, we still start back work on editing the finished sections of the rulebook.

I have started brainstorming work on the Living Doll playable supernatural characters type, as well as the Talking Dog and several other stretch goals.

I’ll do anything to put off finishing these examples of play..

We are still waiting on more than 60 backers to finish their backer surveys, so we aren’t sending out emails regarding the custom rewards yet, we want to try to be able to do that all at once if possible. Even if all the backer surveys had been completed, we would still wait on a lot of the emails, because we would want to confirm our funds first before we tell our team artists to get to work on custom rewards. Kickstarter won’t actually give us the money until at least 2 weeks after the end of the campaign. We plan to pay them up front, so we gotta have the money before they start seriously working on the project.

Speaking of that, there are three backers from whom Kickstarter has been unable to collect payment. At the time of writing this, this accounts for about $371 of our funding. On Friday, May 17th, if these payments have not been resolved, Kickstarter will cancel them.

That means we won’t get the money and those backers won’t get their rewards. It’s probably just a matter of the bank marking their payment as suspicious, but it needs to be resolved before May 17th. If you’re a backer and you’re reading this, please check your Kickstarter account and your email to find out, and please try to get this resolved before Friday.

Next, I’ve got to talk about our patreon. Despite the major success of the Kickstarter, patreon is an essential part of making A.N.I.M. a long-term viable career.

You can find our patreon here. Subscribing for $3 or more will give you access to our patreon discord server where you can meet the team and offer direct feedback, as well as have a vote in what our next project will be. Subsribing for $5 or more will also give you access to regular, playable updates on all of our in-progress projects.

We will of course be posting updates on our progress in finishing Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy and adding the stretch goals on Kickstarter, but if you want to actually play these updates as they come out, you can do so by supporting our patreon for as little as $5. We know some of you will jump at this opportunity to get improved beta versions of Eureka early, and some of you will just wait until final release, but for those of you who would like to get the playable updates, we have a question.

Would you rather us officially update the patreon beta copies twice a month, or once a month? There are definite pros and cons to each one and that’s one of the reasons we’re asking the fans.

Twice a Month

Pros

More frequent updates

Cons

Updates will be smaller and less significant in how much each one will improve the game materials.

Updates that come too frequently could annoy the people who are actually trying to use the beta copies for their campaigns, as they may feel like have their campaign rules changing too frequently to memorize.

Once a Month

Pros

Updates will be much bigger and more significant

Gives more time for people who are playing with the beta copies to have several sessions in between rulebook updates.

Cons

Updates less frequently

The A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club

If you would like to meet the A.N.I.M. team and even have a chance to play Eureka with us, you can join the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club discord server. It’s also just a great place to talk and discuss TTRPGs, so there is no schedule obligation, but the main purpose of it is to nominate, vote on, then read, discuss, and play different indie TTRPGs. We put playgroups together based on scheduling compatibility, so it’s all extremely flexible. This is a free discord server, separate from our patreon exclusive one. https://discord.gg/7jdP8FBPes

Free Beta Copies

If you don't want to wait, but don't want to sign up to our patreon either, then you can get an older beta copy for free on our website or itch.io page.

Other Stuff

We also have a ko-fi and merchandise if you just wanna give us more money for any reason.

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Wesgoesbrr: The Game

previous

(image and poll under the cut for gore)

After much deliberation, you decide it can't hurt to make a few more incisions. The star of the show has already shown off his ribcage, why not treat his audience to some guts as well?

You move your tripod closer, giving the camera a full view of your workstation, then put on a fresh pair of gloves---for what must be the eighth time. You'll have to request a budget for disposables on your next mission---and grab your scalpel. Your captive's pleas when he sees what you're about to do are so pathetic you almost reconsider.

But you've never been much for backing down.

Once everything is splayed out, nice and visible, you really start getting your hands dirty, plunging them into warm entrails and drawing more ragged screams from your guest. Eventually, you get bored of playing with his intestines, and pull away.

Your victim has stopped letting out shrieks of pain, now letting out small whimpers on every exhale, his eyes half-opened, staring at nothing, his body shuddering uncontrollably.

Even with the life-prolonging drugs you've given him, it looks like he's at the end of the line. Oh well. You've done everything the Fleet's asked of you and more.

tag list:

@whumpsday , @turn-the-tables-on-them , @onlywhump , @whumpyauthortm , @whump-in-the-closet , @kira-the-whump-enthusiast , @whumpterful-beeeeee , @apokolyps , @whumpedydump , @isntthisblank , @sodacreampuff , @what-if-i-just-did , @whimpity-whumpity , @ladyjaye13 , @shywhumpauthor , @grizzlie70 , @whumpinthepot , @aarika-merrill , @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are , @100percentevil , @catnykit ,

[it-meant-nothing]

Hi @superherotiger , this is a reply to your reblog on the dadneto and quickson poll… I wanted to make another reblog but I realized that it’s someone else’s post and the thread is getting long 😅 So yeah, this is my reply:

THIS IS SO AMAZING! I LOVE IT SOOO MUCH!! I have watched this animatic before and I understood it a lot more with your narrative. Thank you very much for sharing that! I find it so endearing that Peter and Erik were always destined to meet no matter what timeline!! And ohmygod, Erik imprisoned for 24 years? Poor man. Never gets a break! And then Wanda, is once again, dead😭 I mean, I imagine her dead too most of the time because Fox didn’t show us their version of Wanda. Peter finally telling Erik he’s his son and that they team up against the sentinels but alas!!!! The curse against Erik’s family struck once again 😭 AND IT’S SO BEAUTIFUL HOW ERIK MADE A PIECE OF ROSE FROM HIS HELMET. I’M LITERALLY CRYING RIGHT NOWWWW! Aaaaa, I wish you continue the fic! I’d love to see Logan telling Erik in dofp that the child who broke him out IS HIS SONNNNN! Weirdly enough, I don’t see much fanfics where it’s Logan who told Erik… I wonder whyyyy.

I really love your animatics so much 😭 THEY GIVE ME LIFE. AND YOUR FICS TOOOOOO!!! I love all of your works, I hope you never stop making them 😭

Well then, speaking about first fics! I’m not sure if you’re interested but since you shared, I wanted to share as well! I wrote my first fic about them 2 years ago too!!!! It’s an AU with no magic because I really found Peter’s speed abilities very hard to write. I know there’s a lot more mutants more powerful than him but like… if he’s faster than most of them then they wouldn’t have much time to react, right? So yeah, I decided to write an AU without powers… In that AU, Peter is a very young kid who always annoys Erik in the library while Erik, in his mind, just goes like ‘where is this kid’s parents?’ But in the end, he started to appreciate Peter’s company. I never did publish it though because till now, I still don’t know how to do the big revelation. (Maybe this is why Fox didn’t do the reveal? Because they didn’t know how?!?! Anyways, who cares. I still hate them for doing that.)

And another fic I wrote about them also 2 years ago!! I included Wanda in this one! The first few chapters focused on Peter’s insecurities because he always thought that Wanda is the ‘better twin’ and that everyone likes her more including their father. Erik is not aware of this thinking but he always makes sure to devote his time equally to the twins. There’s a bit of unspoken strain in Peter and Wanda’s relationship too despite them being close. It all stemmed from their late mother. Since Wanda thought that Peter didn’t save their mother on purpose; while Peter was a bit jealous of Wanda since she always had Magda’s attention. And then, the main plot comes in! MCU Wanda really had to ruin everything and take Peter away from them. But since X-Men Wanda and Peter’s relationship isn’t the best, there’s an uncertainty if Peter would even want to come home considering that MCU Wanda treats him so well 🥺 But yeah, we all know nothing is gonna stop Erik from bringing his son back 🫣 I actually published this fic! The first few chapters, I mean… It originally focused on MCU Wanda and Peter’s relationship but I’ve decided to focus on dadneto when I do get the time to work on it again hehe. I might add it in the House of Dadneto collections if it runs again! 🤩

It’s this fic if you’re curious!

[have-you-read-this-short-fiction]

SUBMISSIONS ARE OPENING AGAN!

Hello everybody, it's that time once again! Send in short stories, novellas, and short story collections and we will see whether tumblr has read them!

Going over some general rules again first:

Submissions will stay open until Tuesday. Once it's Tuesday, I will close it. I may close early if I get an influx of submissions. I also might extend submissions if I want more.

Make sure to go through the list of all stories that have already been submitted and posted. I know it's long, but feel free to use the "Find" tool to see if what you want to submit is already on there.

Limit yourself to only submitting about five pieces in each category. If I extend submissions to be longer than originally intended, feel free to submit a few more, but otherwise try not to do more. Be courteous to others who want to submit things.

Feel free to submit things that are well known classics + lesser known pieces!

Do not submit full-length novels, even if they're shorter. This is for short stories, novellas (under 40K words), or short story collections. Please consider going to @haveyoureadthisbook-poll @haveyoureadthismgyabook or @haveyoureadthisfantasybook or @haveyoureadthisqueerbook, among other poll blogs (those are just the ones I follow so I know about them)

Do not submit plays or poems. We have had some problems with people submitting plays before, and like, I love plays! But that's not the focus of this blog. We're focusing on prose here. Even if it's a book of poetry or a verse poetry book, do not submit them. Please consider going to @haveyoureadthispoem-poll and @do-you-know-this-play

Consider submitting with a link to the piece you are submitting. Of course, if you don't have one/can't find one, that's perfectly alright. But if it's an older piece that is in the public domain/easily Googlable OR is a piece originally published online/in a publicly accessible literary magazine, others would love to read it as well :)

If you have any questions, the ask box is always open <3 Even if you just want to share some thoughts about your pieces, feel free to drop by in the ask box !!!

SUBMISSIONS LINK!

Thank you everyone :) Consider reblogging this post if you submit something, boosting its visibility, and helping more people see and submit things!

[thessalian]

Thess vs TLOVM S3, Ep 5

The way I figure it, if I watch ep 5 tonight, I can have ep 6 day after tomorrow, which is the Wednesday, and then I have three new episodes ready for the following few days. So here we go.

Ooh, flashback time. Who's the dwarf?

Drake Thunderbrand is the dwarf, voiced by ... Matt Mercer, who always seems to feel that there is insufficient dwarf love.

So ... Kima and Allura was part enemies-to-lovers, part "Both of them are tsundere as fuck; how did this happen?" ...Okay.

They did fascinating things with the chimera, the animation team.

.........And in that moment, Allura was basically ... every thirsty person-who-loves-women on Tumblr who sees a buff and badass woman who they all want to step on them.

Yeah, Kima, took the words right out of the audience's collective mouth.

As an aside ... I like that the script made room for what was effectively background colour. Like, when they were streamlining the scripts to make that hundreds of hours of D&D session into a TV series, they seem to have made it a point to not only keep the NPCs that might be somewhat necessary in the background, but also give those NPCs a little time in the spotlight, not to mention having their stories be narratively important to what's going on with the main cast. Mostly I just have the warm fuzzies for Matt because I know what it is to love one's NPCs and seeing those bits he threw in to make the world feel more alive taking centre stage even for a few minutes is testament to the small parts of that story that were only him.

Wait. Does tundra have tumbleweeds?!? ...Not that Google tells me, but fuck it; it's a fantasy realm. They can have tumbleweeds if they want them.

Allura ... you are very right. However, I know how much you like being right, and if you want to continue to be right, you might want to ease up. But you're way more interested in dismembering a dragon with your bare hands than you are in being right about the Perc'halia ship anyway, so...

"I daresay better than us." ...Sooooooo both Vessar twins are prone to foot-in-mouth while being bleak about their own predicaments. Charming.

"Maybe don't mock the murder-man"? That ... actually reminds me that Vicious Mockery hasn't been used once this whole time. Which is kind of a shame because Scanlan had several kills with it in the actual campaign. But it's irony that the wielder of Vicious Mockery is asking for Grog to ... not.

I wonder how much of Allura's being pissed is about the dragon, and how much is about having misjudged Dohla so badly. ...Like with the chimera, Kima was right - only this time she was right in her concern about Dohla, and Allura was ... Allura about it. Which I guess explains the rashness. Still...

Oh. Shit. Wait. It took two to open that portal, and Dohla's dead. Sooooooo how the fuck are they going to get back?!?

Ooooooh shit. C'mon, guys! White dragons aren't supposed to be that tactical!

Oh. Ooooooooooooh. Is this where we're going to get Matt's personal experience with True Love's Crit?

Or ... not quite. Still, that was awesome.

Allura ... you are being the biggest annoyance.

Ooooooookay but you are forgiven-- OW.

"Fuck it; let's get weird." Is it ... wrong that I just love it when the damn-near-Artificer says that shit?

Well, if that's the result? No. No, it is not wrong.

Okay, yes, you're both okay, now start opening the bloody portal and save the argument for later!

"Right, right; impending doom". Heeeeeeeeeeee.

Ooooooh this is going to be interesting even before Yenk meets Vorugal.

The new shiny!

"I don't wanna die bald!" BWAAAHAHAHA!

Ooooooooooooooh here we go!

Oh, Grog ... that should honestly be a Tumblr poll. I figure Tumblr's demographic includes monster-on-monster monsterfucking and not just ... them-on-monster monsterfucking.

WHOA now I just wait for Grog to accuse Yenk of stealing his signature move.

"Cram it, de Rolo; I'm having a day!" I'm stealing that.

Grog, you are now echoing damn near every reaction YouTuber I've seen watch this series. (Which is like, two, but they're good ones. Omn1 is adorable and I want to hug him. Just FYI.)

No, Grog ... white dragons fight like ... well, like you fight.

"Where the belligerent fuck is she going?!?" ...Stealing that one too.

Veeeeeeex, what have you got up your sleeve now?!?

Oh. Oooooooooooooooooooh hoooooooooly SHIIIIIIIIIIT that was epic.

Vex, starting to rethink things a little? Hmmm?

Percy, I have no idea where you got emotional intelligence, but ... keep doing that. That's good.

So ... wait, instead of "the arrows are totally flirting", he's going to either see to the making of that bitching new armour she got from Vorugal's hide or maybe even make it himself?!? SQUEEEEEEE!

(Look, stuff like that is how I express affection, so hey.)

Thordak ... Ripley?!? Hoboy.

The magnificent mansion!

Doors. Again. Hee. Sometimes they are useful.

The best thing about that cliffhanger is ... well, partly that it's entirely non-threatening, but also because the reactions will be divided into three groups: those who don't know D&D at all, and are wondering what the fuck; people who know D&D a bit but not Critical Role, and are wondering what Scanlan would make a magnificent mansion look like; and Critters, who are wondering if they get Kima, in a training room, with chicken.

Gods. Back to work tomorrow and I am not ready.

[transmcytshowdown]

hello! this is a silly competition about trans mcyt headcanons FOR THEIR CHARACTERS, NOT THE CONTENT CREATORS and it's all just for fun! please no hate for the people interacting with this showdown or for the blog itself.

you can submit contestants through the askbox or by tagging me @transmcytshowdown. submissions can be for any smp and for any character (unless stated otherwise). i would prefer if you submitted characters with personal headcanons, reasons, and/or propaganda, but it is not required. after i have collected enough submissions, i will post a bracket showing the layout of the competition. afterward polls will begin and the fun will start. the specific date will be posted when we get near that point and feel free to reblog this post in the meantime to gather attention!

voting rules:

no voting for a poll more than once. creating alternate accounts to skew the results is not permitted and generally ruins everyone's fun

no hate at all. no transphobia, homophobia, sexism, racism, or just negative things in general. hateful content will be deleted and the user making it will be blocked. this is for fun and you should get a hobby if you are that angry

please keep yourself in line. sexualization and fetishization will be deleted. generally, think before you hit post- if you're worried it might be too far, it probably is

propaganda is highly encouraged once the voting starts! you can reblog the post with propaganda, send asks to me, or even bribe the voters with art, writing, or anything else

once you've voted, please spread the poll! reblogging is highly appreciated and gets a higher audience for better results!

header and pfp made by me, under the cut. if you want, you can use them with or without credit

[friends-to-lovers-tournament]

Y’all accepting propaganda? Cause I got PLENTY for Fitzsimmons:

They met at sixteen in college. They are, to this day, collectively referred to as top of their class (though iirc, Fitz claims Simmons is smarter because she likes homework more than life itself)

During said time in college, they somehow turned plants into explosives. Simmons rambles about how happy she is with this result right in front of a superior officer (Phil Coulson), as Fitz tries to shush her so they don’t get in trouble.

They do not get in trouble. They get recruited to fieldwork. Fitz sees this as marginally worse. Simmons keeps trying to get him to like it

Simmons gets infected with an alien virus. They spend an entire episode on opposite sides of a glass wall, trying to cure it before it’s too late for her.

Fitz eventually says “screw it” and goes in with her, because damn it if she tries to cure this alone

She throws herself out a plane so she doesn’t infect him. He almost jumps out after her without a parachute

They get trapped at the bottom of the ocean together. They discuss death. She says she’s glad she’s with him. He confesses while sacrificing himself to save her.

He’s so devoted to her. She kisses him on the cheek once, and you can literally see the moment he decides he loves her. He nearly drowns so that she can breathe. She goes missing on the other side of the universe—he jumps through a portal, and drags her back by the tips of his fingers.

It’s mutual. She can’t bear to watch him suffer. She runs into his arms any chance she gets. She risked mind and body to drag him out of a world where he didn’t belong. She would rather have let him kill her than imagine a life without him. She searches space for him for a year on just a feeling that he might be out there—and she was right

Their proposal is so funny. He makes this heartfelt speech about how time, space, and even death can’t stop them, and then it turns out she can’t hear him.

I say it was funny, but it was gut-wrenching at first

That same episode, she proposes in the middle of a gunfight. They bicker over who proposed first while dragging their concussed friend to safety

The wedding? Rushed. Coulson claims that any hesitation is playing with fire. He’s absolutely right.

They have an episode located entirely in a shared mindspace. Their darker halves end this episode tearing each other’s clothes off

Multiple superior officers, upon hearing their name, thought they were a singular person. They later named their daughter after a binary star—two stars that shine so bright, they look like one

yes we're accepting propaganda via asks and submissions! forgot to mention this before but let us know if you'd like us to use your propaganda for the next round of polls if your ship makes it through :)

also this is really cute i especially love that their superiors thought they're one person lmao thank you for submitting!

[honey-minded-hivemind]

For the 🦈SirenSong!AU, the reader is going to be related to Logan/Wolverine (35 people voted, majority chose him in the poll, so this is the route we're taking!). The reader will likely be a deep sea siren like him, Laura, and Victor, but could also be part open ocean or reef siren... maybe the reader is more reef or open ocean siren than they are deep sea... or mayhaps they are fully presenting as one of the other two instead of the deep sea type! Imagine what you will, but I might explore (or make canon) one of these ideas in the future.

As for their color scheme, it is probably similar to Logan, Laura, and Victor as well. Something sunny, warm, or warm-toned neutrals... similar to a piece of bumblebee jasper, fire agate, amber, tiger's eye, cat's eye, or other similar warm-toned patterned and shaded gemstone, with bits of brown and black involved. Their scales and fins though... that I plan to make a poll for, one each, so until those are done, I'll leave it vague what their fin and scale types are.

The reader is a mixed bag of feelings and experiences, due to being caught in a siren pup trafficking ring when they were younger, experimented on for a short time, and then raised by a kindly human once they escaped... they don't remember much about the ocean or coastal towns and cities, nothing but vague impressions and certain key things. They do have things they like and dislike, and have unresolved traumatic issues pertaining to the ordeals they went through, and losing their human caretaker recently before the present story...

Some of the things they like are:

• Pearls (any color, shape, or size; they vaguely remember playing with them, but can't remember when; they like the smooth, cool texture to them, too)

• Shrimp (tasty and simple; ate them with the shells on, until they found out you aren't supposed to do that, ever)

• Fluffy Blankets

• Cats

• Crabs (cute AND tasty!)

• Otters (fluffy noodles)

• Seals (cute and fat)

• Octopi (cute; prefer not to eat them, due to their intelligence)

• Jewelry (gold, silver, string, pearl, gem, glass, it doesn't matter: if it is shiny, sparkly, or dangles, they want to collect it)

• Books (Shakespeare, Ivanhoe, Aesop's Fables, or even some children's books like the Narnia series, Goodnight Moon, or Winnie The Pooh... much knowledge and wisdom and whimsy can be found in all of those, and the reader loves them all)

• Classical Music (they adore hearing instruments like the harp, the drums, or the cello)

• Odd Stuffed Animals (the animals that aren't regularly made into plushies, like fish, squid and octopi, caterpillars, foods, etc.)

• Hugs (they crave affection, but don't have friends or family to receive them from or to give it to)

And some things they dislike are:

• Most Humans (they fear them, and have mostly dealt with the more wicked, shady sort; they try to avoid being near them for too long, in fear of them discovering they are a siren)

• Other Sirens (they fear the other sirens hating them or seeing them as defective, due to being so out of touch with their own species and for being caught by humans; but they haven't met another siren since they escaped the humans who caught them)

• Loud Noises

• Bright Lights

• Babies (due to the drool, vomit, and excretions that come out, not to mention their wailing)

• Hot Weather

• Open Ocean (they don't know how to survive on their own in the ocean, and they haven't been to the sea since before they can remember... and the wide, empty waters make them feel lonely)

• Sea Snakes (venomous and can swim, they are a childhood fear of their's)

• Scorpions

• Large Empty Spaces (small empty spaces don't bother them, but too large of a room and only them to fill it makes them feel lost and paranoid)

The reader is someone who feels awkward, doesn't always understand social cues, and tries to be kind (if a bit secretive) to others. They want to be good, and they want friends and family and the love they provide, but they are on their own, now that their only caretaker, the human who raised them, has passed on... So the reader heads into the coastal city, where they know sirens are in charge and they have a better chance at not being found out. They can't risk anyone coming after them or discovering what they are. They won't risk being caught again, they can't bear the thought of having to go through that sort of torture, that type of pain, again. If only the knew that sirens are very caring, especially towards their own... and with the reader being a pup... once the sirens discover that, they aren't ever leaving their new bby on their own with no protection, no pod, no parents or siblings or family... And Logan/Wolverine is certainly going to be emotional when he sees his lost pup again, and he sure as h*ll won't be letting them go, not without a fight... not after losing them all those years ago...

[tmbg-tournie]

WELCOME TO TMBG BEST SONG TOURNAMENT 💿

EXPLANATION/RULES/WHATNOT UNDER HERE ⤵️

I’m going to do polls on all tmbg songs in mostly chronological order (oldest to newest) and then put the winners from each album against eachother for the TMBG BEST SONG!!!

There are 2 mods: mod goober (owner, she/her, @gooberdude101) and mod lain (basically my secretary [does all the hard stuff], they/she, @shreeky)

Any untagged posts are probably me before lain showed up, also polls will not be tagged as either mod

I use Apple Music and Spotify as references for what is an album and what is an EP for the most part, so the Spine collections are being polled as albums, rest assured though that all songs will be polled one way or another

Don’t mind my pfp

I post polls once a day (ish) until there’s no rounds finished, which I’ll either wait or poll singles in the meantime until I can get back to polling the actual albums

Sometimes I forget to post so sorry about that

I count eps under the singles category just because it’s easier usually, but if an ep/compilation where most of the songs aren’t on a studio album I’ll poll is as an album (ex. Miscellaneous T)

If a song is in multiple albums/eps I’ll still poll it, even if it is the same version of a song. This is because it’s still part of the official album, so I think it still deserves at least a chance to win

stuff not technically under TMBG but still made by both of them (ex. Other Father Song, I’m Not A Loser, Hot Dog Dance Break, etc) will still be included but I may not know about/find all of them so let me know if you want to make sure I poll something, it really helps me make polls

Solo projects (Mono Puff, 50 States Songs) will NOT be polled until all other TMBG songs are polled including singles and eps

All polls are randomly selected and I have no hand in choosing polls. The only way a poll would change is before I start I might randomize it again

If you have any questions comments or concerns my ask box will always be open

This post will be updated as I feel there’s more things to explain

POLL STATS:

ALBUM: They Might Be Giants (1986)

Winner: Don’t Let’s Start

2nd place: Put Your Hand Inside The Puppet Head

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

ALBUM: Lincoln (1988)

Winner: Ana Ng

2nd place: Snowball In Hell

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

ALBUM: Flood (1990)

Winner: Birdhouse In Your Soul

2nd place: Istanbul (not Constantinople)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

ALBUM: Apollo 18 (1992)

Winner: The Statue Got Me High

2nd place: I Palindrome I

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

ALBUM: Miscellaneous T (1991)

Winner: Hey, Mr. DJ, I Thought You Said We Had A Deal

2nd Place: I’ll Sink Manhattan

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

ALBUM: John Henry (1994)

Winner: End Of The Tour

2nd Place: Sleeping In The Flowers

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ALBUM: Factory Showroom (1996)

Winner: Till My Head Falls Off

2nd Place: How Can I Sing Like A Girl?

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

ALBUM: Long Tall Weekend (1999)

In progress…

[hypn0sssss]

This won the poll that I hosted!

---

Words: 905

Fandom: Ensemble Stars!!

Pairings: Mayoi & Everyone

@badthingshappenbingo prompt: Comfort Object

TW: Mayoi-typical self deprecation

I was not expecting this one to be as fun to write as it was! I 🧡 Mayoi!!

You can also read this on AO3!

---

Today wasn't a good day for Mayoi. There were too many people, and he accidentally messed up choreography during one of their shows. He unlocks the door to his dorm, hands shaking as he feels more useless than ever.

He opens the door to complete silence. Tomoya must be doing something with Ra*bits today. He sits down on his bed, sinking into the pillows.

His body starts to shake even more as he feels tears fill his eyes. The mistake he made was something so avoidable. And it was so obvious on stage too. He felt everyone's eyes on him.

He was letting Alkaloid down. They swore that he did fine, but he didn't. He was an inconvenience to them, a burden they had to drag around.

He started to shake even more as the tears spilled over. He needs to calm down. How can he calm down?

He looks over at his bedside table. Sitting there was a collection of pretty silver rings that Hiiro had got him. He grabs them, putting them on. They fit his fingers perfectly, proof that Hiiro really put effort into finding them for him. That thought was sort of grounding, along with the feeling of the metal on his fingers.

He hesitates before opening the drawer of the bedside table. There is his collection of gifts. He picks up a necklace that Tatsumi had given him. It's a cross, a little bulky, but still very pretty. He feels unworthy of something so holy, but is honored that Tatsumi would give it to him. He puts it on, the weight comforting.

Next thing he saw was a collection of photo cards from Aira. It's mostly Chief, which Mayoi appreciates greatly! There's also a couple of un-released photos of Branco that Aira included, and they're just so cute that it brings a smile to Mayoi's face!

Next thing he pulls out is a small scrapbook that Alkaloid gave him on his birthday. There's a bunch of photos from rehearsals and concerts, but also some from personal hangouts as well. Everyone looks so happy, and he can feel his shaking start to calm.

Closing that, he then picks up the throwing stars that Chief gave him. He was so considerate too, making them out of paper so Mayoi wouldn't injure himself with them! He starts to smile wider, placing them to the side as he pulls out another object.

He ended up pulling out the pallet of eyeshadow that Narukami had gotten him. She picked it out for him during that time when she had convinced him to go shopping with her. He remembers her spending a moment thinking about which one to get, which brings a feeling of joy to Mayoi's chest.

Right next to it was a stuffed animal that Kagehira had picked out for him. It was a teddy bear with such big eyes that made it so adorable! It was purple, almost the exact shade of Mayoi's hair! The softness of it was relaxing, calming Mayoi as he ran his fingers through its soft fur.

Next to it was a box of tea that Kohaku had given him during Sweets Fan Club. It's a collection of different flavors that Kohaku thought Mayoi might like. He's been afraid of drinking it, of wasting a precious gift, but he might make a cup later, considering how comforting the smells are.

Placing the tea to the side, he pulls out the cowboy hat that Madara had given him. Madara had given it to him out of nowhere, placing it randomly on his head. The older one had smiled brightly, saying that it suited Mayoi well. The memory makes Mayoi's smile wider.

After that, he pulled out a plushie of a dove from Hibiki. It's very soft, and Mayoi can't help but admire how cute it is. Hibiki had offered it to him with a smile, insisting that he should take it. When Mayoi finally did, his smile got wider, talking about how “amazing ☆” Mayoi was. He gets flustered once more just thinking about it.

After that was an empty bag of freeze dried grapes that Niki had given him. After figuring out his favorite food, Niki had given him a bunch of grape related snacks. The freeze dried ones were his favorite, and he finished them relatively quickly. He kept the bag for moments like these, and the thoughtfulness of Niki still surprised Mayoi even now.

He then pulls out a pair of bunny ears that Mitsuru had gotten him. They're very fluffy and so so cute! He didn't know who had given them to him for a while, but then Mitsuru soon admitted that it was him. The memory brings a giggle from Mayoi's mouth.

The last thing in the drawer is a keychain from Sora. It's from a game that Sora had convinced Mayoi to play. It's a cute, pink, and round mascot that Mayoi became very fond of. Sora had said that his “color seemed brighter” after he had received the keychain. Mayoi doesn't really know what that means, but the compliment made him feel warm.

As he looks at all of the gifts that had been given to him, he realizes that his tears had disappeared and his shaking had stopped. All of these objects and the memories they bring have brought him comfort when he needed it the most.

He's not alone anymore.

[pyropsychiccollector]

Shuichi Harem: Saihara Detective Agency, 1/5

Considering I ran 3 polls at once... It'll be interesting to pump these out. lol To make it fair to the winners of each poll, I'll spread out the posts - I'll do a Danganronpa first. Then Fate: Stay Night's winners (a 3-way tie, unbelievable. XD). Then Master Detective Archives: Rain Code. And I'll cycle through the harem members like that, keep the love spread around. n___n

So you won't see these collections "complete" for a while. Danganronpa has 5 girls to get through, Fate has 7 girls, and Rain Code has 7 girls. Why'd I give Shuichi a smaller harem? ... Personal preference. XD These are all ships that I support, mind you. Every single girl on those polls. I might not ship some girls as strongly, but I allow them. ... You'll know when I don't ship something period. I'll make a lot of noise about it. XD

This first one was... very borderline. I'm just very neutral about this one. It's not an unhealthy couple, so... I can't throw it out with the bathwater. She's a fan favorite, but she's not one of mine. Oh well. I felt like giving back to the community anyway. Never say I don't do nice things for you guys. (人◕ω◕)

This particular Danganronpa series will be... unique. Very different from the canon. I'll preface this by asserting that I've integrated V3's universe into the main Danganronpa universe; none of Chapter 6's "it's all fiction!" crap. (人◕ω◕)*** V3's Class as such is Class 79, and the Tragedy essentially happened in Class 78's second year as such. It's pretty much in line with canon, timeline-wise... That's just in case you guys needed a clarification on that. The other main clarification is that Junko didn't mess with this batch. There's a different Mastermind involved, and I won't spoil that too much. I will talk about their days at Hope's Peak, and the subsequent, er... games Class 79 are involved in.

Aren't Flashback Lights lovely? (人◕ω◕) Junko never put people through multiple Killing Games, screwing with their minds. Junko-chan was merciful. (人◕ω◕)

But enough fanfare~... Let's get right to it. (人◕ω◕)

The Beginning

So, first a little background~

By the time Class 79 arrived at Hope's Peak, the protests were ongoing. The Student Council was dead, and the Reserve Course was protesting for a little over half a year after that tragedy - before Class 79 showed up, anyway. The academy, more specifically the Steering Committee, wanted to save face. If they tried arranging for the police to come and arrest the offending Reserve Course students on trumped up charges, that would only bring the media further down on their heads. Better to let the ingrates parade around the front of the campus and make it a battle of attrition.

So what does the academy decide to do? Carry on business like usual. Twist Kizakura's arm to keep the recruitments coming. Eventually, sixteen students were scouted (or picked in a lottery, as is the yearly tradition with the Ultimate Lucky Student) to attend as the 79th Class. Kaede was scouted as the Ultimate Pianist, and boy did she feel honored to have Hope's Peak recognize her talents! She didn't think her hobby was on the same level as these other Ultimates...

... But Hope's Peak wasn't the glamorous paradise that they advertised it to be. Those riots outside the gates were unsettling to say the least, and her class had to be escorted onto the main campus to avoid any "accidents'! How crazy is that?! The Headmaster or faculty wouldn't even tell them what was going on!! Those Reserve students were so angry...! She'd even say they were murderous when they saw Class 79 get admitted onto the main campus...

Still... Kaede did what she could to adjust to her new life as an Ultimate. For those first few weeks, Class 79 didn't so much "bond" as collectively worry about the Reserve Course students. It's difficult to pretend life was normal with such ominous tension hanging in the air, day in and day out. For her part, Kaede stayed in the music room and played the piano repetitively to keep her mind off her anxieties. Their classes, if there were any, were pretty short and concise. And even so, Kaede didn't have to attend class. So long as they honed their talents, the students could do whatever they pleased, including ditch class.

So Kaede stuck to the music room as much as possible. Went down for meals and to rest in the dorms, but her priority was drowning herself in playing the piano. She didn't want to close her eyes to the world, bury her head in the sand... But what was she supposed to do? Hope's Peak wasn't giving them answers, the riots were growing worse by the day, and their senpai... all those upper classes... If the students weren't just plain eccentric and goofy, they were, frankly, suspicious... and Kaede had a bad feeling about them. There was just something... off... about Class 77-B.

Kaede couldn't ignore her own classmates forever, though. As tightly wound up as she was, the pianist did want to try reaching out to them... Or at least the nicer ones. Kaito was a chipper guy to be around, even if he could be a bit dense. Rantaro took some getting used to, but the guy had a number of stories to share about his adventures around the world, searching for his sisters. Tsumugi and Himiko were a bit... obsessed with anime/manga and magic, respectively, but Kaede could admit she wasn't much better with her piano. Angie was nice... but there was definitely some culture shock with that one. Who asked others to donate a pint of their blood like it was no big deal?! Who?!

Gonta was a big teddy bear. Tenko was overly excitable, and was a massive fangirl for Himiko. Kirumi was zealously polite and insisted on taking care of everyone, handling their needs... Ryoma was a bit closed off, but he was a chill guy to be around. Miu was... Miu. Kaede didn't hang around that chick too often. Korekiyo was as cordial and professional as Kirumi, and as widely travelled as Rantaro if not moreso... But something about the guy gave Kaede the heebie-jeebies, so she stayed away. Maki, like Ryoma, was closed off and wasn't telling any of them what her talent was. Kiibo-kun was pleasant to be around - apparently his father was a researcher at Hope's Peak, so he'd been there on campus longer than any of them... But Kiibo-kun's story was sad. Kaede felt so sorry for him, that he needed to replace his failing human body parts with robotic pieces... Kaede constantly made sure that he was alright, but it was clear that the pianist was overstaying her welcome a bit. At the very least, she was an overprotective mother hen.

... Kokichi was a little turd. Kaede would have preferred interacting with the nefarious prankster as little as possible, but unfortunately that wasn't possible. All because of who Kokichi hung around the most.

Shuichi Saihara... Poor guy had more self-confidence issues than Kaede did. As the Ultimate Lucky Student, Shuichi didn't feel like he belonged at the academy. Because even his luck... seemed to be a rare occurrence. It wasn't as obnoxious as Nagito-senpai's, or as attention-grabbing as Makoto-senpai's. Kaede isn't even sure how she could describe it; things just go Shuichi's way, but not in an obvious manner. Like, he'll drop something and not realize it... But he'll find it pretty quick, once he's realized the item's gone. And it's more than just finding stuff he's misplaced - Shuichi himself admits that his "luck" has proven helpful to his Uncle's private detective agency. Whenever he investigates, he'll find the truth... But sometimes, solving the case doesn't lead to a happy ending. Kaede can tell it's not just self-confidence issues; Shuichi carries some scars with him, buried deep down.

Maybe that's why that jerkwad Kokichi hangs around Shuichi so much. He can tell the Lucky Student is lying about how he's really feeling... But instead of prying the truth out of him like a normal person would do, Kokichi drags Shuichi around on "playdates" and other frivolous outings (a lot of the time in the middle of the night...!), pretending everything's hunky-dory. ... Kaede doesn't like it, but she's not so cruel as to pick at old wounds, as much as she'd rather help Shuichi get over past tragedies... So in a way, perhaps Kokichi isn't completely off-track... It still grates at Kaede to even admit that privately, though.

So Kaede goes a roundabout way of helping out her new friend. She approaches Kyoko-senpai and asks her to take Shuichi on as... an apprentice. It's a tall order, and Kyoko-senpai is barely more approachable than Maki about... anything... Senpai insists that she doesn't have the time to take on a pupil - much less someone who's turned his back on detective work out of "shame"... Kaede doesn't understand that Kyoko has a hard time considering this favor because Shuichi is pretty much in her father's shoes, and Kyoko doesn't know how to make him reconsider... Much less feel like it's her place to force a career onto Shuichi.

But once Kaede drags him over to meet Kyoko, the luckster can see the lilac-haired girl embodies the spirit of a "true" detective... Cold, clinical, detached... And yet there's something about her that stirs Shuichi's own "detective spirit" up. Something along the lines that... he doesn't want Kyoko to be alone, to completely commit her soul to the career and throw away her humanity. Shuichi believes it's arrogant of him to assume he knows anything about this, that he has any right to dictate how Kyoko should live... But he can't help thinking that he's right... Because he holds shame for not satisfactorily resolving every single case up until now, and he believes Kyoko should keep in mind they are investigating people. That people have rights, that they shouldn't just ignore people's feelings... Yes, it's a conflict of interest. Yes, his Uncle has cautioned him to be more detached like Kyoko is... But Shuichi just can't. Restraining his emotions hurts. Most cases deal with peoples' lives - perhaps not always life-or-death, but finding missing people or lost pets... That's still dealing with peoples' lives. Shuichi feels if he closed off his emotions... he would cross way too many lines. All for the sake of finding "the truth". ... And he just can't do that.

Kyoko winds up taking Shuichi on as a trial run... And while his rampant emotions and outbursts are annoying for Kyoko to deal with, Shuichi may have a... point. About detaching yourself too much. On a number of cases, too much detachment made Kyoko too blind before it was too late... And while Shuichi wasn't able to resolve the cases in the manner he would have preferred, he still tried... And yes, it's annoying to keep Shuichi from falling apart after particularly distressing cases, but there's something about the boy that makes Kyoko keep him around. Perhaps part of it is keeping him from abandoning the profession like her father... But another part of it is that like Makoto, Shuichi keeps her grounded. Wrestling with emotions isn't Kyoko's idea of a good time... But she needs to at least do the bare minimum, if she doesn't want to bottle everything up and vent on her friends... What few friends she has left...

Life at Hope's Peak carries on for a few months, for Class 79... Kaede finds a stable routine in bonding with Shuichi, their classmates, and some of their senpai from the 78th Class... Kaede likes to think Shuichi becomes one of her best friends. And his apprenticeship with Kyoko has done wonders for Shuichi... Still critically low self-esteem, but he's coming to accept that despite being a "Lucky Student", he can be more than the title the academy bequeathed to him.

... Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to last. Eventually the Reserve Course peaked with their riots and stormed the main campus... And whilst planning an escape, Class 79... all got knocked out.

The Hazy Middle

Before Kaede, Shuichi, and Class 79 know it... 5 years pass them by. They literally aren't aware of it, being forced into "loops" that last a few weeks before starting over again and again... Their memories "tweaked" with every loop. Killings keep happening until there's only one or two left, or until a few of them beat the "Mastermind", and they start over again.

Kaede remains the Pianist of the group... But by now, Shuichi is the "Ultimate Detective". That's been the reality for several years now. Class 79 aren't aware they have a Lucky Student. Though he does his best to help solve the Killing Games, sometimes Shuichi is made the victim or even rarer times made the killer... Class 79 does not know about the loops. They keep living on in these Killing Games, forced to distrust each other and try to survive. Learning about each other again and again... Sometimes pushed into corners and being twisted into perverted versions of their natural selves...

Kaede doesn't know about the loops. And yet pretty consistently, she draws close to Shuichi almost every time. Old instincts kicking in, passionate feelings resurfacing~...

It took a year or two, going through these Killing Games... But once it started, once Kaede began to express romantic feelings for her best friend... The same phenomenon kept cropping up in subsequent loops. They endure this hellish torture of seeing their friends distrust each other, of wondering if they'll survive the Killing Game... Shuichi tries so hard to pin down the Mastermind. But sometimes he'll focus on saving Kaede and everyone he holds dear... Sometimes he forsakes that ultimate objective of unveiling the Mastermind... He doesn't completely understand why, but deep down Shuichi understands that before Class 79 came along... He was an empty shell. He understands that in his efforts to protect everything he loved... he lost it all. And it keeps happening again and again and again. Shuichi takes it hard when he can't protect people, and this carries over many loops. His past, even though he doesn't remember it all, leaks into his present self... And as a result, the Shuichi of the "here and now" is a very tired, very uncertain man... A man that isn't so sure he has the right to call himself a detective.

But just as the loops affect Shuichi, so do they affect Kaede. She sees the pain Shuichi holds, deep inside... And every loop she tries to be the inspiring best friend/assistant that Shuichi so desperately needs. It's not his fault these murders keep happening, and he's not some "sham" of a detective for not stopping crimes before they happen. They're... only human.

Kaede's often the first to be there for Shuichi, throughout the loops. Sooner or later there are other girls who gravitate towards the detective... And Kaede must accept there's others who hold Shuichi dear in their hearts. ... Even if she can have a jealous streak in her. Still, it must be said that because of their bond, Kaede stopped contemplating murder long ago... Doesn't even cross her mind as loops reset and she forgets everything. Monokuma makes it clear the trials are rigged in the survivors' favor... So even if she were to try murdering the Mastermind, it probably won't work out how she hopes it would. So Kaede doesn't even entertain the thought.

Because her friends need her. ... Shuichi needs her. They learn about each other again and again... Sometimes this bonding will even feel familiar to the Pianist... But it's why she keeps going for the detective, isn't it? Because having him as a friend feels right... He won't betray her. Not by choice.

The Killing Games result in a close bond between Kaede and Shuichi... But their relationship never really goes anywhere so long as the loops keep occurring. They fall in love again and again... But that love doesn't deepen. ... Not on the surface...

The Ending... or a new Beginning...?

Everything must come to an end, eventually... Even Killing Games. Class 79 will be saved... But the cost is steep. Their memories are messed up across five years, constant memory suppression and restoration... The human mind can only take so much.

The surviving members of Class 79... eventually end up in comas. There's no way to "ease" them into getting their memories back... At some point the dam will break and they'll get it all back anyway. So Future Foundation helps restore their memories... and their minds and bodies just shutdown as a self-defense mechanism from getting so much back at once.

It's not really known how much time passes... Weeks... Months... Years...?

Eventually, however, Class 79 will wake up once more. They'll need therapy to cope with so many "loops" of killing, being killed, seeing their friends dying... The survivors of Class 79 do not have an easy road ahead of them.

But if Kaede and Shuichi are among that number of people in the long, arduous process of healing... Perhaps someday they'll come to grips with their unstable past. Just maybe, they'll be able to live in a world that came back from the brink of disaster...

Perhaps they won't get a "grip" at all. 5 years of "Killing Games" isn't something that you can just... overcome. Pretend they never happened. What they do learn to do, however, is to bear that pain of the past and find immense relief that it's all over. Reconnecting with the rest of the world is... difficult. Shuichi, Kaede, and the rest of the Class 79 survivors almost expect to wake back up in the academy and to endure more "games"...

But as the months and years go by in their new lives... They accept the true finality. The Killing Games are over. ... But they are rather clingy to one another. The constant bombardment of their friends dying... They need constant reminders and proof that they're alive, no matter how far apart they may be.

Kaede tries to go with a professional career as a Pianist... But all that time of not really "progressing", of being stuck as a high school freshman, the bittersweet feelings being around a piano evokes... Kaede has a piano in her home that the Future Foundation graciously gave to her, but that's it. She can't bring herself to play professionally.

... Because if she carried on with such a career, she could never be sure of how Shuichi is doing. Kaede would worry herself sick about all her classmates if she carried on alone... So she helped Shuichi to form a new detective agency in a cozy town far removed from the big, bustling cities. She's not so much a detective herself, more like a secretary...

It's not glamorous. It's not "elite". Kaede never cared for any of that crap. She thought that when she accepted Hope's Peak invitation that she might grow to like the famous reputation of the academy and enjoy a rich, lavish lifestyle... Instead, she attended that academy at such a turbulent time. When it was rife with corruption. She and her friends were robbed of a normal high school life... And here they are now, years later, with the world getting back into a sense of "normalcy". Kaede came to the understanding that being rich or famous or elite... It wasn't for her.

No, Kaede would rather have a fulfilling lifestyle of helping others. Of supporting the man she loves. She doesn't mind one bit being in a quieter town, of their agency taking on much less serious cases than murder... It's frankly a relief to not have to deal with such heavy incidents. Such cases will sometimes roll in... But there's more of a variety now. And Shuichi isn't alone in puzzling out these cases, he's got a few capable assistants... Kaede might be a little jealous as she's "just" a secretary... But to be fair, Kirumi and Maki are pretty qualified in different aspects...

At least Tenko empathizes with Kaede. ... And even though Miu is hired on as the tech whiz, Kaede believes herself more "useful" to Shuichi overall than that pervert. Really~! Kaede just "loves" working with these other girls so much~... Why does Shuichi hafta be "popular" like this? Kaede wants to know. ... For science. ... And to keep any others from traipsing in here where they don't belong... Miu is enough of a handful, thank you very much. (人◕ω◕)(人◕ω◕)(人◕ω◕)