#or at least if they do have them be fun enough that it's fine

[thatonesonicfanfictionwriter]

can you do hcs of how sonic, knuckles, shadow, and whoever else u want tbh would act to someone/reader showing them how to dance?

they'd be so cute; I feel Sonic is full of energy/fun, Shadow would be technical and precise and needs help learning expressivity/having fun with it. I feel knuckles would be a bit awkward at first but get the hang of it or at least tolerate it to humor someone, idk

Sonic, Knuckles, Shadow, and Amy (Separate) x Reader Headcanons (Showing them how to Dance!)

Requested: Yes (by @duckyfann9871 ).

(Reader will be gender-neutral.)

Sonic the Hedgehog

He knows how to breakdance, but this hedgehog can��t dance romantically to save his life

Luckily you’re there to teach him!

Sonic is quite a fast and energetic learner, but it still takes him a couple tries

He definitely isn’t a fan of slow dancing, but he tolerates it for your sake

He probably teaches you a few dance moves of his own, and you both just have a great time with it!

Knuckles the Echidna

Knuckles can’t dance to save his life

At least, that’s how it is until you offer to teach him

He’s very clumsy when it comes to dancing, but you assure him he’s doing just fine

He’s honestly just doing it to get you off his back at first, but he starts to have a bit of fun with it

At least until Rouge starts teasing him and he stops dancing, embarrassed

It takes a while to get him to dance with you again

He’ll never admit that he had a good time dancing with you, unfortunately

Stubborn echidna

Shadow the Hedgehog

Shadow hasn’t danced in a long time (50 years to be exact) but he always says he doesn’t dance

But when you offer to teach him, it would be rude to turn you down…

Once you get started, Shadow is quite serious about it, but he’s a faster learner than Sonic

Once he gets into it, he starts having a bit of fun

Start the teasing now, because he’s in a good enough mood to deal with it

Definitely enjoys slow dancing more than Sonic does, and knowing that you enjoy dancing with him makes him happy

Dancing with you allows Shadow to relax more, showing his softer side

Amy Rose

Oh, this girl loves dancing

If anything, she’s the one teaching you!

Regardless, she’s the most energetic and is ecstatic when you ask her to dance with you

From slow dances, to anything, really, Amy probably knows it all

Honestly, she probably knows nearly every dance move known to Mobiankind

She’s very happy to dance with you, and is probably always pulling you onto the dance floor after that

[oddberryshortcake]

Hello again! Same anon who was asking you about your writing rules! Thanks for letting me know, didn’t wanna just throw something at you without knowing if you were interested yet 😅

Anyways, you seem to be a fan of Silver based off of what i’ve read from you so far (I love him he’s my favorite ❤️), so I was wondering if you could write a scenario on what you think it would have looked like when Silver told Lilia and Malleus that he found out about his origins from Lilia’s dream?

I hate how they left that completely unaddressed because of how important it is to Silver’s character and his relationship with the Diafam. 😭

THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST! I had a lot of fun writing this. I feel the same as you. I have hope that book 8 might continue some of Silver's plot, but in case it doesn't, at least you can make me write these fics because this kind of stuff is my favorite lol

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Despite their promise, Silver was given very few opportunities to speak with his father. 

He didn’t remember much of what happened after the aftermath. He cried his heart out, smothered in the embrace of his family on the floor of Diasomnia’s entrance. Then, all of a sudden, he woke up in a hospital. 

Thankfully, Sebek was in the bed beside him and explained what happened. Malleus and Lilia went to STYX, they were taken to a general hospital in the foothill town of Sage’s Island. He had also been asleep for two days. 

Figures that old habit of his would rear its ugly head after he enjoyed the perks of being fully alert in the realm of dreams. By the time he was fully awake again, his hair had lost its golden color once more and his father’s silver blessing returned to him. 

His blessing…When he got the opportunity to do a video call with his father, he was quick to point out the change in a humorous way. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to your natural hair color? You could dye it like I do!” Lilia suggested and skirted around why his hair had changed color in the first place. 

Silver had been led to believe he looked like that his whole life, and Lilia never delved deeper into the true story willingly. It was a complete accident that Silver knew. 

So he thought, maybe his father wasn’t ready to talk about such things after all. He doesn’t know the full scope of what Silver experienced in the darkness, and perhaps the shame of Silver seeing him in his General days was enough for him to talk about trivial things during their call instead of what Silver actually wanted. 

Knowing now that Lilia and even Malleus knew of his origins the entire time, and the lengths they went to not discuss such things around him, made Silver feel compelled to keep his own secrets as well. 

His reaction in the pits of despair might’ve been what they had feared would happen. It’d just upset them if they knew, and he was fine…No need to bring up stuff from the past, he should be happy that everyone is alive. 

Except, as much as he was accepting of this now, there was still a piece of him that was still deeply affected by his past. Everything was so much simpler when he believed he was the physical age he was now, that his past never reached past the little cottage in the woods he grew up in. 

When he reunited with the rest of his family again at Wildrose Castle, after the ecstasy and joy he felt at his formal adoption, after he got to speak to the ghosts of his biological parents, after the spell that had made the palace feel alive again had dissipated into the dawn…He was left standing where his cradle still stood, trapped in a moment of time and surrounded by briar…Just as he was.

He spent 400 years in this cradle as the world moved on without him. Had Lilia not found him, this would’ve been where he remained for all eternity, never to join the waking world or be loved by anyone else. 

For as long as he lives past this point, he will never spend as much time in this life as he did in this cradle, and that filled him with a strange wistful feeling. 

“Silver,” Lilia calls out to him. 

Silver looks away from the cradle, which he spent far too long entranced by, and realizes that a majority of the guests had left, leaving him and his family in the remains of his old home. 

“You seemed particularly lost in thought, are you tired?” Malleus inquires. 

He is, but he was always like that. Maybe there was more to his habit than he previously thought…But that wasn’t what was on his mind. He wanted to speak. 

“I was just remembering what happened here.” He said, gesturing to the cradle, “I spent so much time here, It’s a strange feeling to see it again.” 

Malleus and Lilia look at each other like they both want to say something, but neither speaks up.  Sebek is the one who fills in the space. 

“I could hardly believe it myself when I realized you and Dawn Knight were related and not distant ancestors.” Sebek said, “Now that I think about it…Maybe he was that light that was guiding me through Lilia’s memories to find you, I assume you experienced the same?”

“Yes, I saw it all.” Silver replies, then speaks to Lilia directly, “I remember when you found me here, Father.” 

Lilia’s expression turns soft, reminding him of the rare times his father expressed concern around him. The way he knitted his eyebrows together was reminiscent of his worst illnesses, when Father didn’t know he was awake and couldn’t prepare to hide his worry with a smile. 

“Dawn Knight had hurt you and Malleus in such horrible ways. There was no reason for you two to care for me the way you did. Father had the chance to kill me then…But he didn’t.” Silver says, “Malleus could’ve ended me when he learned of my origins, but he didn’t. You both kept me alive, taught me so many things, and loved me despite it all. Because of you, I’ve become an adult. I can never thank you enough for that.”

“Silver,” Malleus calls out to him, voice soft but firm, “Neither of us wanted to bring up what happened because we wanted you to have a happy birthday. But now I’m going to use this chance to say this…I am so sorry.” 

Malleus is the one crying now, not sobbing but Silver can see some tears gather on the edges of his eyes. Still, he’s the one holding Silver’s hand in his own, the way he and Lilia used to when he was little.

“You never should have found out the way that you did. Lilia and I wanted to discuss your origins with you when you were older, but we didn’t know how.” Malleus adds. 

“Silver, you have to know. That dark thought I had, it was so brief. I swear to you I have never felt anything like that since.” Lilia joins in, almost sounding frantic, “While we never wanted to hide these truths from you, my shameful part of me was something I didn’t want you to see. I didn’t want to scare you away like I did before.” 

Here these two are, holding his hands like he’s still a little child. He almost laughs, because of course they still see him this way. His life will be brief, and he’s growing up before they have the chance to really process it. 

In their mind, by the time he truly passes away, he’ll have been ‘far too young’ by fae standards. 

Though it hurts, perhaps the greatest part of being the only human in a fae family is that he has gained a better understanding of his loved ones faster than it would ever be possible for a fae. 

“I’m not a child anymore. You can’t scare me away.” Silver says, “I was upset at first, confused, and afraid. It was hard to fathom how anyone who has been hurt like you could have ever love someone like me. But Sebek reminded me that you didn’t raise me out of hate, and for that, I’ll always be grateful.”

Lilia shakes his head and chuckles, now he’s getting nearly as emotional as Malleus. Silver had never actually seen his father cry besides the memories he regained and looked into in the dream world. 

“Look at you, you’ve seen the worst of us and you still persevered to save us all. That goodness you have is authentically who you are. I’ve done nothing to influence that.” Lilia insists, and he reaches up to ruffle up his hair, “How could I not love you? You made it so easy to.”

Maybe he was blind to all everyone saw in him, because he simply did what he thought was right, what he could pay forward for being saved and taken care of all those years ago. Everything that everyone, from the past into the present, did to bring him here, was he truly the gift that came out of all that sacrifice? 

“I’m so lucky that in all my long life, I get the chance to share some of it with you.” Lilia added, “And I get to watch you grow up more, you’re the real blessing.” 

“I could not have said it better myself,” Malleus says, regaining his composure, “Silver, please bless us with many more years with you. I know I cannot extend your life to that of a fae’s, and it saddens me now to picture a life where you aren’t in it. But that just makes the time we spend now all the more meaningful.”

With his heart full, he smiles widely in a way that was very uncommon for him. At this moment, he didn’t even feel tired. 

Their moment was broken up by the loud choking sobs of Sebek struggling to hold his tears in. He had been oddly silent the entire time, and yet somehow ended up the most emotional out of all of them. 

“I-I’m s-so lucky too!” He struggles to word out. 

Silver grabbed Sebek’s arm and dragged him into their now group hug. 

Maybe they were all lucky that amidst the war, pain, and loss of the past, they found this sweet little spot in time where they could all be together. He woke up for that reason. 

He didn’t even mind that he slept on the way back to NRC, because there would be far more opportunities to speak with his family in the future. 

[criscura]

I want to get to the good part of this blastvoid thing I'm writing but i do NOT want to write the part before it and I'm procrastinating so fucking hard

Like i know what i want and it'll be satisfying but it's like the reverse of eating beef jerky, where this is the tough gross part you just need to swallow before getting to the fucking SPPIUCCE

[theoneandonlylobster]

Some actual legit dialogue and bonding I could see happening around the beginning of their relationship. Azula likes to run off and hide in fun hiding spots too, and here's a girl who found this one before she did, meaning she's better at finding at least some of the good spots than she is. Yeah, this is good.

I thought was a school for noble born girls?! Why is there a colony kid here?! Stick to your own narrative, Hicks, they haven't opened it up to everyone yet, sheesh. This is poor writing. I have no doubt Azula would look down on a colony born child, but, realistically, when would she meet one, growing up in the capital? This is entirely contrived.

We get it, she was born evil, an irredeemable little monster. How old do you think your audience is? I'm 37, not 7. Christ.

At what point before The Boiling Rock was it demonstrated that she believed this? When she was mocking the Earth King? Okay, maybe, except there's a literary device called foreshadowing and it works best when that foreshadowing is ironic. She was speaking of the disguised Dangerous Ladies and the impending coup, nothing more. Like, Azula was pretty sure she could trust Mai and Ty Lee, that's the whole deal. Otherwise, The Boiling Rock is meaningless because she would have been expecting it and therefore she would have had no reason to have a breakdown. And why would she trust them? Because this whole scene is bullshit. It doesn't make sense. It could never have happened. Neither she nor any of the other girls would have internalized anything like this at that school. Was it a shitty school that taught imperialist propaganda? Yeah. So is every school in the United States, for one. There just aren't teachers going around being mustache-twistingly evil like this and inculcating children with this kind of nonsense. It's more subtle.

Okay so I kind of love this random child who's just full on out there shoving leaves into her mouth? And Mai’s not really doing much to stop her or anything just giving her a half-hearted, "No no, we don't do that," which honestly kinda sends me, because that is how I picture Mai with children she's not related to and thus has no vested interest in at all. Zuko, this was a terrible idea. Don't put Mai in charge of the kindergarteners. Fuck's sake. I'm genuinely laughing at this. Ty Lee was this child. Mai's had enough of leaf eaters for a lifetime. She's put in her time.

Okay but seriously, back to my previous point. If we're meant to take all this at face value, how did this school even stay open? How? Genuinely asking! Because there's no actual plausible way human beings would allow a school to function like this one apparently does, but if one somehow started to, it would go under so incredibly fast it's not even funny. People take their kids' futures seriously! There's just zero way any of this happened. Zero. Human beings don't act like this.

Okay so I get that Mai has to be a good, "redeemed" character or whatever in order to be Izumi's mom (which we all know she is) but like, at what point has she really, truly expressed regret for her actions during the war? At what point has she renounced imperialism? Mai is morally grey at best. That's fine. That's interesting. There's a lot of cool things you could do with that. She only got off because she happened to go rogue like two weeks before the end of the war? Fine! Explore that! Or don't bother. Do whatever the hell this is instead.

Yeah, Azula, who was such an awful leader she lead you and your other friend to stage a bloodless coup on "The Impenetrable City" that the three of you just waltzed on into. Such awful leadership. Mai doesn't think Azula's an awful leader. Mai followed her around the whole damn Earth Kingdom for months. Mai, who famously doesn't do anything she doesn't want to do, even if that order comes from Azula.

Regardless of whatever I just said, though, Mai is super out of line here in Fire Nation society, which is super rigidly hierarchical. She doesn't have the power to dismiss those kids in front of her boss. Gah!

A bunch of dumb shit happens that I'm going to skip over because it's truly not even worth commenting on until later...

Okay so when I first read this panel it took me by surprise because it truly feels like just a couple days have passed? But apparently it's more than that? Enough that Zuko's like, "Haven't seen you in a while" my dude it's not been but maybe 20 pages (I truly cannot be assed to count). Um, okay. So on top of all the other writing problems, the passage of time is not being properly conveyed to the reader. Neat.

Coming in on the home stretch hopefully ugh this comic is just so godawful please send tots and pears

My Big Damn Ashes of the Academy Thoughts

Okay so honestly I just need to take this panel by panel because frankly my overall impression of the comic is that everyone got replaced Invasion of the Body Snatchers style with people that look the same as they do and have the same name, but have zero idea of the backgrounds or motivations of said characters, and so they were just making shit up as they went along. Like, I write fanfic, I read fanfic. I have, in general, a pretty high regard for fanfic. And of course one of the more common Dangerous Ladies childhood type fics is how did they meet, why are these three very different individuals friends, etc etc.

And this was not even approaching the worst, crappiest, least coherent of that type of fiction I've read over the last nearly two decades.

Ashes of the Academy is a giant nothing burger comic, a fart in an elevator you're trapped with until you can make your escape.

So, without further ado, let's begin:

So right here on the second page of the comic, and the first page with dialogue, we have Ursa letting us know that, apparently, contrary to what we know, the Academy made Azula a bad person. Not her parents, definitely definitely not Ursa. You got that? It was all the Academy's fault. And we will continue beating that ostrich horse the entire rest of the comic, make no mistake!

Ah yes, Ursa, noted Not Ever An Imperialist At All, Not Even Once, Nuh-Uh.

Skipping several pages that would be me saying these two things multiple times...

Credit where credit is due, I like these two panels. I like this tiny glimpse into the friendship of Kiyi and Lihua or whatever here. One, because I imagine this is more like how Azula probably actually was, based on what we see in Zuko Alone. And two, that means Kiyi is unconsciously mirroring her sister and I like that interpretation of her character. It seems that Hicks does too, on a subconscious level. Look at that devious little look on her face! Little shit. Yeah, you cause a ruckus! Adorable.

I'd be lying if I said this didn't get a chuckle out of me. Is Katara on Zuko's Ministry of Education? Lol wtf. Still funny though.

More Kiyi being a little shit that I can get behind. This time in a Little Miss Know-It-All superiority complex sense that I'm sure would get real old real fast for anyone around her.

I've pointed this out on another post but Kiyi isn't a princess? Wtf? Come on, Hicks. Like it's not hard to figure this shit out. I think giving her a character trait of literally running to her big brother the Firelord anytime she feels slighted is pretty good, but of course it's never explored, because that's not a heroic trait and Kiyi has to be a hero for some reason unlike that irredeemable monster Azula who was born bad.

So nice of you to ask her first Zuko! Fuck's sake! Being Firelord has really gotten to this boy's head, like I know he has absolute power and all that shit but damn, if I was Mai, I would be wanting to get back with him less after this, not more, regardless of whether or not I liked the job in the end. Fucking consent, bro! (Previous page has him telling the headmistress she'll do it.) Unfortunately, this is actually not ooc for what we've seen of Zuko, honestly, imo. Mai, you can do so much better. Like, I ship Maiko. I love their dynamic etc etc. But girl. Respect yourself. This boy is NOT it at this point.

This is our continuing indication that they'll be rewriting the past in this comic, and we'd all better get on board. Zuko certainly thinks Azula treated him badly and has a very, "Zuko did nothing wrong!" approach to it all, but Mai was there for the vast majority of it, witnessed it with her own two eyes, so she would not react to that sentence with, "True." She just wouldn't. At least not the Mai we know. So let the assassination of Mai’s character commence!

Like, was this comic so half-assed nobody could be bothered to look up the spelling of Ukano's name? Yes. Yes it was.

Can I be made to believe Ukano said this to Mai when she was smol? Absolutely, yes. He's portrayed as a social climber and willing to utilize basically any route he can access to gain clout and influence. That's a man who is not above using his daughter in this way. I think it's somewhat implied by Mai’s dialogue in The Beach, even. Dude was a shitty father, Caldera was rife with them. Do I believe for one second Mai became friends with Azula because of this counsel? Absolutely not. The Mai we know thinks for herself 100% of the time, it's basically her thing.

Oh, cool, there's a 10 image per post limit. Well. I'll keep going in reblogs and indicate when I'm done. Bear with me, friends.

[wwraithsart]

Happy Mar1na day!

[buttercupshands]

just some LoV sitting in the long lost bar in Ultra Impact in clothes that they didn't wear yet

[theprincessandthepie]

LOOK AT HERRRRRRR <3333333

[sieglinde-freud]

i want to keep playing black eagles but everytime i open three houses i open it to the gautier inheritance and by god that map is just so. terrible. and then i turn off the game. unfortunately linhardt and lysithea have not learned warp yet so i just have to play it. the worst map ever. who ever designed this, 5000 curses upon ye. FUCK YOU

[asgardian--angels]

....idk in a fandom this gigantic how are people already coalescing onto a handful of popular headcanons and scenarios that just become the baseline now, when the source material gives us literally limitless possibilities to work with

[running-in-the-dark]

kinda disappointed with how this weekend went. I mean, it wasn't bad! but it was our first weekend in the new apartment, and I/we wanted to get a lot done. I already did a lot during the week (a lot for me, not a lot for most people I guess), but there's lots of things that I can't do/can't do on my own, either because I'm too short or not strong enough or I need someone else to hold something or whatever. which realistically just won't get done during the week because my husband works full time, so. it sort of sucks that only one very small, unimportant thing got done. 😔

[messybouquetoflilies]

im so delusional what is wrong with meeeee

[orcelito]

Planning out my outfit for my concert shit. I think I've got good pants for it, maybe got shoes for it. Gonna look for a blouse tomorrow + possibly some new shoes. Bc the maybe-shoes are those shoes I got for the suit that I HATE. They gave me such terrible blisters. And I think the pants I have would look better with some kind of heel. But if I don't find anything good I can just use those flats. And for the blouse, it's gotta be black and long sleeve and also have enough flexibility to not restrict my playing. Flexible Clothes. All the better to play a funky little tune in.

On top of that tho I've got several assignments I gotta do this week. Gotta make a wireframe prototype for my web app for web programming class. Tonight, really. Bc the official thing is due Sunday but I gotta get it reviewed by classmate(s) (and also review someone else's, too), so better to have that done sooner rather than later. There's also a lab for my C programming class due on Friday, which I need to have done before the end of lab so I can get it checked off. Gonna try to get most of it done tomorrow night, if not all of it, so that I can just go into lab and get it checked off and then LEAVE. Bc if I stay the full lab I will have less than an hour b4 I gotta be at the venue for sound check. And I really would prefer to have more time before that. Tbh the lab probably won't take TOO much work, since it's just using recursion to make a lil maze solver thing. Not too many lines of code, since the recursion does a lot of that. The tricky part is actually figuring out the logic for it properly. But I took good notes on it when my professor talked about it in class so MAYBE I didn't attend the last 2 labs and MAYBE I haven't even started the thing. But it's ok. Fuck it we ball. And ON TOP OF THAT... the assignments, the orchestra prep, etc... I also wanna clean my apartment some, probably on Friday morning, bc nonzero chance of visitors after the concert. Not for long if they do come in. But Still.... #Embarrassed. It's not as bad as it was b4 bc thankfully I did manage to do my dishes. But there's still some things I should get cleaned up.

AND THEN...!!!!!!!!!!

Well I mentioned the prototype thing. I gotta review someone else's prototype, and I also need to update my own prototype depending on what people say about mine. Tbh I'm kinda planning on doing a lower-effort version to start with (instead of trying to make it perfect from the start) so that it'll hopefully be easier to adjust the prototype to whatever the advice is & make it seem like an actual improvement. There's also a presentation over this thing, which thankfully I'm presenting on... Wednesday, I think? But I gotta have the slides submitted I Think Sunday night (when the prototype itself is due). So I gotta prep the presentation alongside prepping the prototype. AND I have a lab for this same class due on Sunday too, so I'm a busy bee!!

And ON TOP OF ALL THAT, I have a midterm exam in-class on Wednesday for my C programming class (same day as the web programming presentation, ugh 🙄), a presentation for my quality engineering in IT class on Thursday (over ISO 9001 quality standard), AND a paper for that presentation's content due on..Friday, I think? It's a group presentation/paper, same group I worked with last time, which Thankfully they can pull their own weight. It's just more to do lol.

God. I'm being worked to the bone, actually. Feels like everything is happening all at once. But then I remember that it's midterms time and I have spring break the week after next. And I'm like. OK, that makes sense.

Just gotta survive the next week and a half... lol...

[red-dyed-sarumane]

having not played rhythm games for months and then picking up kamicity ensemble ive gotten SO bad at proseka. i was like its so over but im finally down to 5 greats it may possible to ap maximizer ex yet.

[gallusrostromegalus]

I was raised agnostic and tend to remain ambiguous on theological matters.

-but my house has a porch on the second story that affords me a terrific view of my neighborhood and the Colorado Front Range and I was partaking of some peace before the 4th Of July Finger-Loss Festivities begin, and I have had a

~*Spiritual Experience*~

I just watched my neighbor try to unload an actual wooden pallet that had to have been forklifted into the back of his insecurity pickup worth of fireworks.

Except that he does not have a forklift in his garage.

He does have so much sports memorabilia and cardboard boxes of unsold MLM Merchandise and patriotically themed camping gear and posters of women in bikinis and flags of suspect political organizations in his garage that there is only BARELY enough space for the fireworks and certainly none for his truck.

So he had to unload the individual boxes of recreational explosives from the back of his truck and stack them in the minimal space he had cleared by hand. This is a tedious and time-consuming process as this neighbor has purchased a wide variety of recreational and locally illegal explosives instead of many of just a few types, so the individual boxes are rather small.

He begins, and this is crucial to what happens next, by cutting apart the industrial-grade saran wrap his explosives dealer had so carefully wrapped his merchandise in, and discarded it unsecured on his lawn.

Where Outdoor Conditions sometimes happen.

His process for unloading the fireworks is to 1. Climb up through the gate into the bed of his pickup truck (a feat made unusually difficult due to the slope of his driveway, and this man's fascinating decision to wear the world's Siffest and least Flexible Denim Overalls. 2. Once in the pickup bed, he selects ONE (1) box from the pile He is apparently from a niche religious institution that doesn't believe in stacking things. 3. Carries it awkwardly around the palette that barely fits in the truck bed 4. His wife yells "Be careful!" when he nearly falls out of the pickup. 5. He Yells "SHADDUP!" back at her. 6. The Large German Shepherd barks from inside the house. 7. He yells "SHADDUP!" back at her too. 8. He sets the (1) box down on the gate 9. Slowly and awkwardly climbs out of the pickup bed 10. picks the box back up, and carries it into the garage.

Question: Aren't you going to help this poor man? Answer: Absolutely Not.

There's four military veterans, MANY dogs, and several people with dementia in this neighborhood, all of whom are terrified by this chicanery every year and many neighbors have repeatedly asked him to maybe do the fireworks somewhere else. (This is the Eighth Year Running he's held a major demolition event in his driveway, and for those of you who can do math, you may be able to guess the precipitating incident to this little ritual) Additionally, I live in Colorado, a state marginally less prone to spontaneous and catastrophic conflagrations than a rotting grain silo, but only marginally. Our recreational explosives laws are written accordingly.

I am in fact calling the Non Emergency line to report Fireworks violations, and reading off the brand labels to someone named Dorothy, who is gleefully totaling up a SPECTACULAR fine for my oblivious neighbor.

However, while I'm on the phone with Dorothy, I notice the wind begin to pick up. and by "Notice" I mean "The Industrial Saran Wrap he left on his Lawn earlier is suddenly swept up about 100 feet into the air by an updraft intense enough to make my ears pop" And by "Pick Up" I mean "I look up to see the sky has turned a fun and exciting shade of glass green, and the bottoms of the clouds are bumpy and rounded, and the overall effect is not unlike looking up through the bottom of the cup at God's Matcha Boba Tea."

For those of you who do not live in places with Inclement Weather, these conditions mean "You have about 30 seconds before a Major Meteorological Event Occurs."

I move under the eaves. "Hang on Dorothy." I say, nose filling with Petrichor. "The show is about to be cancelled." "Oh, that doesn't matter!" Dorothy cheerfully informs me. "It's illegal for him just to possess those, no matter if he actually gets to set them off or not." "Terrific, because he's gotten maybe five boxes out of a hundred inside."

Sometimes, the weather gods are Merciful and give you a verbal warning, typically in the kind of thunderclap that makes your ears ring.

The Gods were not merciful today.

It's not often that I am in the time, place, correct angle or in a properly observational frame of mind to see this, But I got to see it today. Huh. I thought. I've never seen a cloud just DIVE for the ground before. Oh. I realized as it got closer. That's RAIN.

Sometimes, a thunderstorm will form in such a way that the rain that would normally be distributed over an area of say, five to tent square miles, is instead concentrated into an area of say, my neighborhood exactly.

So today, I was granted the rare privilege of being able to actually see the literal wall of water descend from On High and DIRECTLY onto my porch, my street, and my neighbor's truck, and his pile of unwrapped fireworks.

The sheer impact force of the downpour immediately scatters the teetering pile of fireworks boxes in the back of the truck, like the wrath of God striking down the tower of Babel. Boxes tumble, then are washed out of the bed of the truck by the deluge. Smaller Boxes are carried down the road in a little line by the stream forming in the gutter, like little impotent explosive ducklings.

My neighbor was definitely yelling something, but I could not hear what over the DEAFENING noise several million gallons of water makes upon high-speed contact with the earth's surface, but there was a lot of arm-waving and faces turning red as he went looking for the saran wrap that had probably blown to Nebraska by now, while his wife started disassembling the complex three-dimensional puzzle of interlocking material goods in search of a tarp. They do not have a tarp. They have one of those wretched Thin Blue Line flags though, and my neighbor jogs out in a futile effort to cover what's left in the truck.

Which is when the hail begins.

"HELLO?" Yelled Dorothy. "HI!" I shouted. "WE'RE HAVING SOME WEATHER!" "OH GOOD!" she shouts back. "WE NEED THE MOISTURE!"

I watch for a minute longer, but the loss was immediate and catastrophic- the hail is the size of marbles and dense and cares not for your pitiful cardboard and cellophane, ripping the boxes asunder and punching holes in the few things covered in plastic. The colors on the Thin Blue Line Flag are seeping all over the remains of that it was supposed to protect in a particularly apt visual metaphor. Not even the few boxes that made it into the garage are spared, as the German Shepherd escapes from indoors, and in an attempt to assist her humans, jumps directly into the small stack of not-yet-ruined boxes, scattering them into the driveway and deluge. She even picks one up so her humans will chase her around the yard, before dropping it in the gutter to be swept away.

So. I was raised Agnostic -but even I can recognize when God slaps someone upside the head and shouts "NO!" at them.

---

(If you laughed, please consider supporting my Ko-fi or preordering my book of Strange Stories on Patreon)

[yanderedrabbles]

A Very Yandere Valentine

In your desperation to make a man fall in love with you, you try a love spell. The results are...debatable.

February was your least favourite month for a reason. You were broke from Christmas, still single, and your resolution to go to the gym every week was coming along horribly. It was blistering cold, but without the holiday cheer and shopping sales to make the weather bearable.

And if all that wasn't enough, you were stuck seeing happy couples everywhere you looked. The Valentine themed ads were everywhere - you couldn't even watch YouTube without some company reminding you exactly how lonely you were.

But things were going to be different this year.

This year, you finally had a crush on someone. You finally had some chemistry to keep you from feeling like the most unlovable single in existence. This year, you were going to have your romantic, picture perfect Valentine’s Day.

Just one little issue. Your Valentine had a girlfriend.

Who he loved. Or at least claimed to. You were skeptical. Would a man in love follow you like a puppy? Would he open doors for you and bring you coffee every morning?

If he did that for everyone in the office, maybe you wouldn't be kneeling in a circle of candles at midnight. But no. He went out of his way everyday just for you. He wasn't a very talkative person, but when he followed you into the break room, you'd end up yapping for much longer than your HR would approve of.

He was different with you. You were special to him, you knew it in your heart.

You didn't realise he had a girlfriend until one of your other coworkers told you. And oh boy, wasn't that a fun revelation. At first you were hurt. Why was he leading you on if he had a partner? Were you reading too much into this whole situation? What if he was just being nice to you and you totally misinterpreted it?

You tried to put distance between you and him. Tried to respect that someone else had a claim to him, even if he might have been flirting with you.

It didn't work.

He would look at you with those liquid brown eyes and you'd feel your resolve and your morals just melting.

As you lit the last few candles for the ritual, you reminded yourself that at least you tried to be the better person. If this was a moral failing, it wasn't one that you gave into easily.

And maybe this was for the best. If he was comfortable enough to flirt with you, didn't that mean he wasn't happy in his relationship? If your silly little spell worked, it might give him the courage to finally break things off. It would be kinder to both him and his partner.

"It's fine if I'm doing it for love," you told yourself.

You lit the final candle and sat back on your heels. There was a shallow bowl in front of you, filled with milky white water. It certainly looked mystical with the candlight flickering across the surface. Now if it would just be mystical...

You picked up the first of your twelve roses - one for each month of the year. You plucked off the petals one by one and dropped them into the water. Like a more wiccan version of he-loves-me he-loves-me-not. With each petal, you tried to picture what you wanted from the relationship. Kindness. Loyalty. Consideration. Love.

It was easy to do. Your man was an easy man to love. You could already picture him in your home - making late morning pancakes in nothing but his sweats, sprawled on your couch reading one of your beat up paperbacks, in your bed. He was meant be yours, you could feel it. Why else-

"Ow! Shit, that hurt!" You looked down at your finger and the rose thorn embedded deep in your skin. Blood was already welling up around it.

"Goddamit. Why now?"

A single drop rolled off your finger and plinked into the bowl. It sunk past the rose petals and turned a small part of the water a sickly pinkish colour.

You carefully pulled the thorn out and stuck your finger in your mouth. It must have went in far deeper than you thought, because your whole finger throbbed. You looked down at the last rose left unplucked. So close to finishing...

You sighed and stood up, stepping carefully out of the circle. You were too worried about the chance of infection to finish your ritual. And besides, whatever daydreams you had weren't going to come back while you were still dripping blood all over the place.

In the bowl, the rose petals drifted until they covered the entire surface. When you emptied the bowl, you were too tired to wonder if the blood poisoned your spell. To tired to notice the petals curling up and wilting long before their time.

You woke up with a wine hangover and a throbbing pain all through your finger. Usually you'd power through it and go to work, but you didn't want to see your crush. Didn't want to be reminded that you were once again alone on Valentine's.

You called in sick to work, took some antibiotics for your finger and curled up under your duvet. As if the universe was sympathising with your mood, the low grey clouds that hung around all week finally burst. Cold February rain drummed on your windows while you picked out your favourite comfort movie.

Yet another romantic Valentine's all on your own. Lucky you.

You were just about drifting off when the knocking started. Loud and impatient at your front door, aggressive enough that you jerked out of bed with a yelp.

"Coming!"

You didn't have any parcels being delivered today, did you? And you certainly weren't expecting guests. Not in the middle of the week, and certainly not when it was so miserable outside.

You opened the door half expecting the person to be long gone. They couldn't have been here for you.

Your co-worker was standing on your threshold, still in his suit with his tie damp and askew.

"Y/n! Thank God, I was so worried about you."

You could only blink at him. How the hell did he know your address? You certainly never mentioned it. And what was he doing here in the middle of the work day?

"Aren't you going to let me in?"

You jumped. "Shit, sorry. Please come in."

You stood aside, self consciously trying to smooth down your hair. He was carrying a packet of some kind. He set it down on your kitchen table before shrugging out of his suit jacket and tossing it across the back of your chair. He was so oddly at ease in your apartment, like a man coming home after a long day rather than a guest in a new place.

You followed him, still feeling like this whole interaction was a fever dream. Maybe the rose thorn from last night really was poisonous and you were somehow hallucinating your office crush unpacking a whole slew of takeout onto your kitchen counter.

"Um..." You decided to abandon any ideas of tact. "What are you doing here?"

"You didn't come into work today. Didn't even call me." He looked up at you. "I was worried about you."

"Oh." Despite the strangeness of this whole encounter, butterflies were fluttering in your belly. "You noticed I wasn't there?"

He shrugged and went back to arranging the stuff he brought. "I always notice you."

There were about half a dozen takeout containers, all from your favourite places. He continued, "I figured the weather must be getting to you, so I decided to check on you. Really y/n, you've got to tell me if you're not going to be around. I was frantic when you didn't show up."

It was so like him to turn a nice gesture into a lecture. So strict all the time, so proper. You couldn't help but smile - it was all part of what made you like him so much. All prickly on the outside, all care within.

He pulled out a chair and nodded at you to sit. His hair was slightly damp from the rain and falling loose from its carefully gelled back style. This was the most out of sorts you'd ever seen him. And all of it over you? Come on, how was a girl just supposed to ignore that?

He pushed your chair in behind you and leaned forward to pull a container closer to you, his arm right next to your ear and his cologne thick in your nose. Your heart leapt. He did the same thing at work all the time, one hand right by your shoulder as he pointed out your mistakes on the monitor. Maybe you were delusional, but would a guy who treasured his personal space - who stepped back whenever anyone else was within half a foot of him - really get so close to you if he didn't like you?

"Here, eat up. I got them to make it special." He was so close that his voice felt like a rumble more than anything else. You could almost feel it in your bones.

"Aren't you going to join me?" you asked.

"Nope. It's all yours."

He stayed behind you while you ate, his forearms crossed on the backrest. You were acutely aware of him watching you.

"What are you doing for Valentine's tonight?"

Were you sleep deprived or was there a hard edge to his voice when he asked you that?

"I might have a date later," you lied.

You didn't see it, but his grip on your chair tightened.

"Really? With who?"

"Just some friend from the gym."

You cringed internally. That was such a bad lie. You didn't even know anyone at the gym. You tried to change the topic.

"You? I'm sure you've got something planned with your girlfriend."

He was quiet for a moment, and then, "What girlfriend?"

Huh? You turned in your chair to look up at him. His expression was entirely serious.

"Your girlfriend? I asked Jenny from marketing and she said you were dating someone. That it was serious."

He raised a brow. "You were asking about my dating life?"

Crap. Too late to back down now.

"Mm-hmm. I was just curious. And you never really mentioned anything, so..."

"So you asked Jenny from marketing?"

Could the ground just do you a favour and swallow you now? That would be much lessless painful than admitting to your office crush that you were kind of, sort of stalking him.

"...yes? Look, I know it wasn't my place. And that I was totally invading your privacy. I'm really sorry. I can't imagine how uncomfortable I'm making you and honestly -"

"Y/n," he cut you off, "I don't have a girlfriend."

Huh?!

"But Jenny said -"

"Jenny is annoying and flirtatious. I just said that so she'd leave me alone."

"So I didn't have to do the love spell?"

You smacked a hand over your mouth. Too late. He tilted his head, smiling.

"The what?"

You turned away from him, your face on fire. Stupid love spell. Stupid brain. Stupid mouth that doesn't know when to shut up.

"Nothing. I didn't say anything. You sure you don't want some of this soup? It's great. Really robust flavour."

He leaned down and grabbed your hand before you could pick up your spoon. His face was right next to yours but you'd rather swallow a cactus than face him after what you just admitted.

"Let me get this straight," he said, sounding unfairly amused. "You asked Jenny if I was dating someone. She said yes, and your solution to that problem - instead of just, y'know, asking me about it - was to do a love spell?"

You squeezed your eyes shut.

Lord in heaven, please have mercy and send a meteor right at my apartment. Just a little one, doesn't even have to be bigger than a car.

"I was really drunk, okay? And I just... I just didn't want to be alone on Valentine's. It's the same every year, and it sucks. I'm sorry. It was dumb and stupid and naive."

"Definitely all those things, yes."

You flinched. He ignored you and continued.

"Not to mention selfish, dangerous and honestly a little bit toxic."

"Yeah, I get it." And to think you called the lonely Valentine's the worst ones. You sighed, looked down at your lap. This day couldn't possibly get worse.

"Y/n."

He didn't wait for you to answer. He just kissed you. One hand pulling your jaw up towards him, the other still resting on the back of your chair and tangling itself in your hair.

You gasped, too shocked to either pull away or kiss him back. Was this really happening?

Slowly, you brought your hand up and ran it through his hair. And oh, he practically purred.

"Silly thing. Never needed a love spell to make me like you."

He pulled you to your feet, hands coming to your waist and thumbs tracing over your ribs. You felt electric, every little movement making you buzz.

"Been wanting to do this since the first day I saw you." Another kiss, deeper, longer, somehow even hungrier. "How couldn't you notice?"

You leaned against his chest, lightheaded. "I thought you were being nice."

He laughed and you could feel it rumbling through his chest. He dropped one hand to your mid thigh, squeezed.

"I'm never nice. If you knew all the things I was thinking whenever we were next to each other, you'd run for the hills."

You met his eyes, feeling brave. "What sort of things?"

He smiled, but his eyes were dark. For a second, it scared you.

"I could show you."

Was he offering what you thought he was? You could have been modest, could have simpered and pulled away and played the blushing coquette. But you'd be a liar if you said you didn't want this, that you hadn't wanted to be in this exact scenario for weeks.

"Please," you said, looping your arms around his neck. "Show me."

He picked you up by your thighs and sat you down on the counter, your legs around his waist. His palms came to rest on your hips, heat bleeding through the thin cotton of your pyjama pants.

"This." He kissed your neck.

"And this." He ran his hand down your thigh, his thumb just barely brushing the edge of your panties.

"And very much this." He cradled your face in his hands and kissed you, tongue darting past your teeth and filling your mouth with the taste of him.

He was still slightly chilly from being outside, but you were boiling up and the contrast was a relief. You kissed him back, not quite as bold but just as wanting.

Did your drunken love spell actually work? Or were you just the luckiest girl in the city?

He loosened his tie. "I've got all day. How about I give you the best Valentine's day you've ever had?"

"Where do you want to start?"

He smirked, toying with the hem of your shirt.

"Oh, I think you know exactly where I want to start."

You takeout grew cold on the counter and the rain stopped and the sun dipped below the skyline before he was done with you.

You were still panting underneath him, your hands tied to the headboard with his tie when he finally decided he was satisfied.

"Wow... I didn't realise you had it in you," you breathed.

He wiped his mouth on his forearm, a glistening trail of spit and spunk.

"Oh yeah? Thought I was too tight buttoned to have fun?"

It was silly to be embarrassed after all the things he'd heard you say, but still...

"I honestly thought you'd be a lot more vanilla."

He laughed and crawled up your body, until his hands were on either side of your head. He leaned down and pecked your nose.

"And now?"

"And now I'm wondering what I did to get so damn lucky. My karma must be amazing."

He undid your hands, deft fingers moving through a complicated set of knots and pulls. You smiled. Oh, he was definitely a boy scout at some point.

"You should eat something. You've lost a lot of...fluids."

That made you giggle.

"And whose fault is that?"

There were slight marks on your wrists and he careful rubbed them.

"Mine. Terribly sorry about it beautiful." He didn't sound sorry in the slightest.

You were wobbly when you stood up, and it was only his arm around your waist that kept you from falling straight back into bed.

"I'm staying over tonight, by the way."

It was so like him to just decide he was invited. Still, you were absolutely not complaining. It was exactly what you wanted too. Strange, how he almost always seemed to know exactly what you wanted.

You fell asleep tucked against his side, sore and aching in the best possible way. In the rational part of your mind, you assumed that your love spell was just a silly lapse in judgement brought on by too much wine and far too many rom-coms. But if you could see the way he watched you when you slept, you might have started to question that assumption.

He brushed your hair away from your forehead, half frowning.

"Silly thing. I've been in love with you for so long."

He glanced at the alarm clock on your bedside table. Hopefully you wouldn't notice it, but he'd slipped a tiny camera behind the clock face. Same with your TV, bathroom mirror and the top of your fridge. There were at least half a dozen cameras hidden throughout your apartment.

Having you tied to the bed and distracted helped. You didn't notice him slipping off for just a bit longer than getting a glass of water or using the bathroom would warrant.

Unethical, yes. A total invasion of privacy. And if you ever found them, you'd be totally justified in getting a restraining order. But still...

"It's fine if I'm doing it for love," he told himself.

[beloveds-embrace]

(Part two of this: “house-trained” simon riley)

The second visit to Ghost’s cozy cottage started with the same mixture of disbelief and awe as the first. The team once again found themselves surrounded by pastel walls, cheerful flower boxes, and an overwhelming sense of warmth that clashed with every preconceived notion they’d had about their masked lieutenant, but at least this time it was a mere courtesy visit and without the worries of needing to stay hidden hanging over them.

The morning began with the usual spectacle: Simon quietly, happily obeying your every request without a care about his team’s amused stares.

“Si, love, could you grab the butter from the fridge?”

Simon stood immediately, massive frame moving through the delicate kitchen with surprising ease. He returned with the butter in hand and set it on the counter, earning a soft, “Thank you, darling.” And a gentle kiss to his temple.

Soap snorted from the couch, where he was wrapped in one of your soft, pastel-colored blankets. He loved them- had spent the entire time before having one on his shoulders, and this time it’d been the first thing he asked for. “Still can’t believe this is you, L.T.”

“Believe it.” Simon replied flatly, brushing his hand against the small of your back as he walked by.

But this time, you didn’t stop with Simon.

“Johnny?” You called sweetly, stepping into the living room with a tray in hand.

Soap looked up, a crumb of your delicious cookies already on his chin. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” You giggled, setting the tray on the coffee table. “Would you mind fluffing the pillows for me? They’re looking a bit flat.”

Soap blinked, still not sure he heard right. “You’re asking me to- ?”

“I would ask Simon, of course,” you said innocently, a little pout on your lips. “But he’s busy getting the sugar for tea. You’re not busy, are you?”

Caught in your warm, expectant gaze, Soap sighed, tossing the blanket aside (gently) with a dramatic groan. “Fine, fine, hen. I’ll fluff your bloody pillows.”

“Thank you, Johnny!” You beamed.

Gaz laughed as Soap began half-heartedly fluffing the floral cushions, grumbling under his breath the entire time- though they were all light grumbles.

“You’ll get used to it.” Simon said dryly, walking past with a jar of sugar in hand. “Good on her for not having you just sit on your arse.”

“Gaz,” you said brightly, then, turning your attention to him. “Do you mind helping me bring in the tea trays? I’ve got too much to carry, and I’d hate to make Simon do it all.”

Gaz stood at attention at your call of his name, caught off guard. “I- yes, Ma’am.”

You led him into the kitchen, where a tray laden with delicate china teacups and a teapot sat waiting. “Careful,” you said gently, placing another tray of sandwiches into his hands. “These teacups are my grandmother’s, and they’re quite old.”

You got them from a thrift shop, but who said you can’t have a little fun?

Gaz nodded earnestly, gripping the tray with the utmost care- as if it was a secret weapon, or a file with the most important information recorded on earth. He carried it like he was on a mission. When he re-entered the living room, Soap was still fluffing pillows, now with exaggerated vigor, muttering. “Is this fluffy enough for ya, lass?”

“Perfect, thank you.” You said as you placed a small vase of flowers on the coffee table. “Oh, Captain?”

Price looked up from where he’d been lounging by the window, his hands resting comfortably on his knees. He’d been amused at how you basically commanded his men, but now that your attention was on him…

“Would you mind slicing the lemon for the tea?” you asked softly and sweetly, holding out a small knife and a lemon. “Your hands look steady. I want good, even slices, please. You seem like the type to do it properly the first time.”

Caught between amusement and curiosity, Price rose from his seat and took the knife and lemon from you. He stood by the kitchen counter, slicing perfect, even rounds of lemon while Simon watched from his chair, clearly enjoying the sight of even his commanding officer being gently bossed around.

By the time the tea was ready, Soap had been roped into setting the table with floral plates and napkins (“Really? Floral?”

“Why not? The blankets you like so much also have floral designs!”)

Gaz was carrying plates of cheeses and olives with the care of a man defusing a bomb, and Price was pouring tea into delicate porcelain cups like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You floated through the room with a soft, effortless authority, gently directing each of them like it was second nature.

“Johnny, could you fetch the coasters from the drawer? I don’t want the table getting scratched.”

“Kyle, do you mind straightening that picture frame? It’s a little crooked.”

“Captain, would you light that candle? It’s my favorite scent, and I think you’d like it too.”

And somehow, none of them could say no to you. Not like they even considered it.

By the time everyone was seated, Simon pulled out your chair for you, his large hand resting briefly on your shoulder before he sat beside you. Soap stared at the table, now perfectly set and adorned with delicate tea accoutrements, and declared: “I think we just got outmaneuvered by a woman in a cardigan.”

“Outclassed, more like.” Gaz added, reaching for the olive oil and za’atar plate.

But when you turned that radiant smile on them, warmly thanking them for their help, none of them could bring themselves to mind. And with Simon watching as well, none of them even dared to mind.