#playing with palets again!

[angelic-ish-phantom]

Danny is the most responsible and focused of the trio. This is not a good thing.

[kissingwookiees]

my little stinky bard son btw

[patchwork-crow-writes]

Why Good Doggies Are Also Bad Doggies

(And What That Means For MyHouse.wad)

There are two dogs in MyHouse.wad. One's a sweet, harmless puppy, and the other's a relentless, deadly hellhound. Both of these dogs reside in what's commonly known as the Brutalist house, a vast concrete structure that shifts in size from small to large as you explore it.

The smaller dog, quite naturally, provides little in the way of an obstacle, and indeed its presence is surprisingly uplifting in such a bleak, sad game. It's the big, two-headed brute, the "Bad Doggy", that aims to prevent your progres; it's swift, deals a lot of damage, and takes a lot of firepower to subdue. It rules the space it resides in with an iron jaw, and will not take no for an answer. Your only options are to avoid it, or to kill it.

But there's a catch - kill the Bad Doggy, and the Good Doggy also dies. And while this does open up a loophole to allow you to deal with the Bad Doggy with no risk - killing the Good Doggy yourself - the fact remains that an innocent creature's life has to end for your journey to become easier.

Of course, you know this, and likely opted to "spare" the Bad Doggy so that the Good Doggy could join you on the beach at the end. And yes, the sight of our canine friend napping by the waves does help to complete the sense of a "good" ending - or at least, a "peaceful" one.

But... have you ever stopped to consider what this actually means? How, rather than being a throwaway device to make you feel sad, or a lazy reference to Tom's fear of dogs, this "Good Doggy"/"Bad Doggy" actually serves to reinforce the core message of MyHouse.wad?

Consider these dogs again... or rather, consider this dog. Singular.

There is one dog in MyHouse.wad. Sometimes it is a Good Doggy, playful and diligent and affirming to our wellbeing. Other times, it is a Bad Doggy, aggressive and domineering and striking fear into our hearts. Kill one, the other dies. You cannot separate the two. Where the Good Doggy goes, the Bad Doggy must inevitably follow.

How do you stop a Bad Doggy from being a Bad Doggy? You can't, not entirely. A Bad Doggy is bad only in the context of its owner's view of it. A doggy that shreds the furniture, is overly-aggressive in its interactions with its owners, jealously guards spaces and important objects, is deemed bad because of its actions. When it exhibits behaviours that are more paletable to the humans that care for it, it becomes a Good Doggy.

As a child, Tom was scared of his family's pet dog. Viewed through the lens of a terrified young boy, a dog that might be only the most loving and attentive creature, excited to play with someone similar to it in size, may appear vicious and unrelenting, causing fear and injury with its exuberent actions and disregard for its own strength. These experiences, whatever form they might have taken, left a visceral impact on Tom, as we see in his sketchbook containing the multiple-headed hellhound.

What happened to that dog? Was it ever rehabilitated? Did its status as a Good Doggy outweigh the trauma it potentially inflicted upon Tom's psyche? Or... did something else happen to it? Were its actions deemed too harmful, too Bad, to continue living with its owners?

We can only speculate on these points, but they do serve to provide an answer to the above question on how to stop Bad Doggies - you get rid of them. Give them away, abandon them, put them to sleep. Problem solved. But that doesn't just remove the Bad Doggy from the picture - it also eliminiates the Good Doggy that can provide comfort and companionship, as well as any potential future joy that same doggy could bring to its owners.

Which brings us back to the beach, and our Good Doggy having a nice nap there. Of course, I'm sure you've realised, it's also the Bad Doggy.

But what exactly does that mean for our "perfect", "happy", "peaceful" ending? Are we going to be savaged on the beach the moment we let our guard down, having fought so hard for the happiness we were so desparate to recover? Of ocurse not. But consider what its potential presence means for the future.

The Good and Bad Doggy are inexorably linked. To have the potential for joy and companionship and love, you must also accept the possibility of pain, conflict and loss. For better or worse, the bad has to come with the good - either you have both, or you have nothing at all. That's why there's no dog at the fake beach - that ending represents attempting to escape bad things altogether, but the world that results is unsatisfying and devoid of meaning. The reason things hurt so much is precisely because of the joy that came before it. Denying pain and sorrow is no better than giving up on life.

To live a meaningful life, we sometimes have to accept people as they come, warts and all.

Happiness, as Steve opines at the end of his journal, has to be fought for. But the fight doesn't stop just because you won once. Having resolved to come to terms with the world as it is, the world where your dearest friend has died, you therefore choose to re-enact that battle every single day. Some days it's easier. Some days, it's torture. That's what being alive is all about. That's what makes the moments of peace, the moments when Good Doggies really are Good Doggies and nothing more, all worth it in the end.

Thank you for reading :)

[savemeafruitjuice]

Tickletober Day 8- Nuzzles

This is where I give up on finding gifs 👍

For the rest of these, I'm going to be just saying what version I'm writing for, so yeah. On that note, this is a ROTTMNT fic! Maybe I'll color-code each version so it's easier to recognize.. 🤔

Lee: Donnie

Ler: F! Leo

TW!: SWEARING! AN ARGUMENT! (It's only referenced. The rest is just comfort and tickes.)

THIS HAS SPOILERS FOR THE RISE MOVIE!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT! ALSO, THIS IS NOT A SHIP!

(I'm putting this below the cut because of spoilers, but Future Leo is established to be in the present time with the turtles. I will be addressing him as 'Leon' throughout this.)

Loud techno music blared throughout Donnie's lab. He was curled up in his rolly-chair, sulking as the noise calmed him down a little. All of a sudden, he felt the presence of someone else, and turned around at the same time a knock sounded on his door.

"Hey, can I come in?"

Ugh, it was Leo. He knew it before a word even left his dum-dum mouth. "I don't like you. Go away." There was a moment of hesitation, before Leo called out again. "Did I do something? I didn't mess up a project or anything, right?"

Donnie stopped. Was he just playing dumb to get into his lab again? The scientist made his way to the door, opening it a crack. "No, dimwit- oh. It's you.." Donnie opened his door a little more. "Wrong Leo. My mistake."

Leon glanced at the younger's face. He looked tired, and not just normal Donnie-tired. "Don, how ya feelin'?"

The purple-themed turtle shrugged. "Just.. tired. Don't worry about it." The slider clearly didn't believe him, having had decades of experience reading his twin, even if this one was slightly different. "No, I don't mean physically 'how do you feel'. I mean emotionally. You don't seem to be doin' too good."

"Jeez, I don't like how much you know about me.." he muttered, but let the door open the rest of the way, sighing. "Come in, I suppose. You haven't done anything to upset me. Yet.." The elder walked in, glancing reminiscently around at all of the tech.

"Shelldon, turn the music down by fourty-five percent." The room got a bit quieter, and Leon crossed his existing arm over his chest. "I'm assuming you and little-me got into a fight?" Donnie nodded, and went to sit back in his chair, spinning around twice before turning back to the sword-user.

"He was being annoying, and wouldn't stop trying to make me try his nasty food. So.. I may- or may not, have called him a.. disgustingly-paletted ape.. and said his food looks like shit." Leon forced a chuckle down, nodding. "I see.. Was that all?" The softshell shook his head, pulling his legs back onto his chair and resting his chin on them.

"No.. It got bad, and he told me he didn't like me as long as I didn't like fucking pineapple, and now we aren't talking."

The slider's face fell at the last part, and he shifted his weight between his legs. "Oh. I'm sorry.. did you.. need anything?"

Donnie paused, then spoke softly. "A hug would be nice.."

Leon looked a bit surprised, but moved to the younger and squatted down. When Donnie didn't initiate the hug, the blue-themed turtle wrapped his arm around the softshell, and pressed his face into the crook of his neck. Donnie sighed, and moved to rest his head on the elder's shoulder, relaxing his tense posture slightly. "I'm going to pick you up now."

Soon enough, the purple turtle was being held to his sort-of-twin's plastron, the two sitting on the floor. Donnie was facing away from the other, while Leon's arm was holding him by the torso. "For how smart you are, you really don't know a lot."

Donnie's eyebrows lowered into the start of a scowl, and he turned his head to bite back with an insult, but was interrupted. "One of those things being how much I love you." His face faltered, and a more confused face was present on the scientist. "I don't know what you think you mean to me, but there's one thing you can be sure of. It's about three-hundred times more than you'd imagine."

The softshell let out a quiet noise, not quite sure of how to respond. He was never good at reacting to people when they got like this, but what Leon was saying was something he really needed to hear right now.

"It doesn't matter if it's your Leo, or one in the past, or the future, or in another timeline.. You will always be loved, and nothing in existence could ever change that. I guarantee that he didn't mean anything he said."

All of a sudden, his vision went blurry, and tears were filling his eyes. Donnie reached up to wipe at them, sniffling. "I.. don't know-"

"Trust me."

Donnie wiped his eyes again, his brother holding him as he cried. "Leon.. sniff- Thanks.." The slider smiled, squeezing a little harder. "And.. for the record, I- I love you too.. A lot."

He hugged the elder's arm, and Leon pressed his face back to the younger's neck, and was surprised with a giggle. "Hey, Donnie.. What was that?"

The softshell shook his head, kicking his legs out when the back of his neck neck was nuzzled into again, becoming aware of the fact that he was extremely trapped. "Noho! Lehee- ahahah!"

"Mm, I think you need a laugh."

The turtle flailed, trying to crane his neck upwards in an attempt to push Leon's head away, but all it did was give him time to reach forward and move to his throat.

Donnie let out a a high screech, reaching up to grab at the elder's head. The slider only smiled, but eventually flipped the scientist around, laid him on the ground, and sat on his legs. "Aw, I remember when you were this small! So much easier to hold down than my Donnie.."

Donnie didn't seem to register what he was saying, or didn't care, only shaking his head and giggling. "Heheh! Noho! Lehet mehe goho- youou scoundrehel!"

The elder tsked, and resumed his tickling tactic, this time the focus being the younger's belly. As soon as his face made contact, Donnie exploded into louder giggles, bucking and trying to scramble away.

"You're so ticklish, it's not even funny!" The softshell cackled when a bad spot was attacked, hopelessly trying to pry the weight of a full-grown mutant off of his legs. "Well, scratch that. Maybe it is pretty funny.."

The purple-themed turtle whined, covering his face with one hand, as the other pushed at his shoulder. The elder looked up to make sure he was alright, unfamiliar with a Donatello who didn't do everything in his power to try to kill whoever dared tickle him.

When all the other did was laugh and squirm, Leon took it as a chance to up his game, and pressed a huge raspberry right in the center of his plastron. Immediately, both hands came shooting to the elder's head, slapping and hitting frantically as loud laughter filled the room. "BPHK- NAHAHAHAH! LEHEHEHEOHON!"

Having his head attacked without regard to safety was definitely a lot more like his own Donnie, and Leon instinctively went to hold the smaller's wrists in his hand, holding them up in the air. "GYAHAHAH! GIHIHIVE- GIMME MY HAHANDS BAHAHACK!"

Another raspberry was pressed to his plastron, and soon enough the purple turtle's laughter went silent, slowly losing the will to fight as he turned his head to the side. The blue-themed turtle took it as a sign to stop, and he let go of Donnie's arms, then got off his legs, and smiled fondly at the sight of the younger curling up onto his side.

He reached out to rub his shoulder, and laughed when the younger flinched. A couple seconds passed, and Donnie had calmed down enough to roll onto his back, a happier face than before present on his features. "How do you feel now?" The softshell let out a quiet laugh. "More tired."

"Okay, you know that's not what I meant this time!"

-----

Weird idea I guess? Never really saw any lee Donnie with future Leo, soooo yeah. 😱

[ragzonacamrencruise]

What does Azula cook for Katara for their first dinner date? Do things go as planned?

my personal head canon is . . .

okay okay so hear meowt-

Azula, Toph, Sokka and Ty Lee get along splendidly like chums. Although Azula's reluctant, she can't help but follow around in their little group wreaking havoc wherever they go.

And because she's so adamant on being mean (but she actually is not, mind you), the other three in that little group like to play pranks on her to get back at her.

It couldn't have come to haunt her at a worser time than exactly when she's supposed to be cooking Katara dinner for their first dinner date.

Azula doesn't know, of course, when she proudly pours stewed sea prunes into Katara's bowl as they are seated at the private table next to the royal dining hall, garnishing it with a little fire flakes to innovate a culmination of two cultures, that she's actually tapping down generous amounts of chilli pepper used for brain stimulation.

"You really think this is a good idea?" Katara asks doubtfully as she peeps into the bowl with suspicion.

Azula crosses her arms over her chest. "Of course. The Royal Fire Academy for Girls taught me cooking during survival training and I make the best elephant-rat soup in the whole nation!" Her eyes shine with a tint of vile pride.

Katara looks at her worried. "But this isn't elephant-rat . . ."

"Oh, just eat the damn food I made for you!"

"Okay, okay!" Katara picks up her spoon, filling it with stew, before placing it inside her mouth.

Her eyes widen immediately, smoke almost exiting out of her ears. She gulps down the spoonful and the burn travels all the way to her butthole.

It feels like a volcano just threw up inside her.

"Oh my god!" She exclaims, eye brimming with unshed tears.

"What?" Azula looks at her with so much longing and expectation in her eyes that Katara feels stupid to even break the horrible news to her. "What is it?! Is it that good?!"

Azula pulls the bowl towards herself.

"No-" Katara chokes out, trying to reach the bowl; trying to prevent another tragedy, but the spoon is already in Azula's mouth and the stew is already getting sprayed to the floor from Azula's mouth in a quick shower.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Azula wipes her lips discordantly, letting the spoon fall from her grip as she notices the tiny container sitting on the table. She grabs it swiftly and empties some of it's contents to her palm and BAM!

It's that thought enducing, extremely hot, chilli pepper that she swore she won't try out again, no matter what monster forced her to.

And here's her date, trying to get some water in her mouth in a way that lets her heal her own burning tongue.

Azula scowls. She knows she put fire flakes in that container. She made sure to check literally today morning. She double-checked it, in fact. Unless somehow . . .

Unless . . .

Azula's eyes widen with unfathomable rage. "SOKKA YOU FILTHY PEASANT!!!" She yells before pushing her chair back, letting it fall down in a crash as she storms out to the dining hall, smoke coming out of her nostrils.

Katara can still hear Azula yelling, "SHOW YOURSELF AT ONCE YOU IMBECILE!!!" in the hallway as she giggles to herself, her mouth and palete completely neutral and soothing again from her healing water.

She picks up the other bowl placed for Azula, fills it only with stew, and takes a hesistant sip. Her eyes widen again but this time because of the exquisite taste rather than a volcanic eruption.

Azula wasn't lying when she said she's a great chef.

She tries not to moan out loud at the flavours filling her mouth that are normally missing back in her village. Azula's made sure she added spices that aren't inherently hot to the stew from the fire nation cuisine keeping the waterbender's low spice tolerance in mind, and it's unique in a way she's never experienced before. The firebender's put in such meticulous effort into the dish that Katara can't help but think about kissing her flush on the mouth when she next catches sight of her. She gulps the stew down, directly from the bowl before helping herself with another bowlful.

...

It's when she goes to visit Azula that night, that she finds two figures walking out, rubbing their hands and neck, groaning in pain. She knows exactly who they are just from the silhouette.

When light finally falls on them, she notices that her brother's straightout missing his ponytail and Toph's got a black-eye and a broken nose. They stop in front of her.

"I don't even wanna know." She says, raising her hands, before walking past them to Azula's chambers.

***

this prompt came out more chaotic than i expected it to be ngl- 💀

[arrowofcarnations]

Ooo!!! “Fucking someone so good that they struggle to kiss you back” for Coops?

Hohoho. Oui.

Have some married Coops fuckin' in the Olympic Village on this fine Wednesday.

(Rating: E)

Character credit to @lumosinlove <3

~~**~~**~~

First of all, the bed breaking wasn’t Remus’s fault.

Yes, he did shove Sirius down bodily onto it before all but tearing his clothes off; sure, he didn’t hold back when he took his favorite seat, giving Sirius most of his weight as he opened himself up with two-then-three efficient fingers right there on Sirius’s lap. He’d own up to partial responsibility for the incident—after all, he was the one who sank down onto Sirius’s dick and rode him hard enough that the cheap mattress’s springs squeaked their displeasure—but it wasn’t his fault. What choice did he have, really, after playing an Olympic hockey game against the love of his life?

His entire body felt like it was on fire as he braced his hands on Sirius’s (strong, so strong) bare chest and worked himself down until he was filled. Twin groans broke the quiet of the tiny room; Remus spared half a thought for Sirius’s neighbors on the other side of the shared wall, but Sirius’s hands flew to his hips, gripping tightly, and all he could think about was getting more of him, taking more.

A desperate Re! from underneath him made him throb. No teasing, no warmups, no bullshit—he hit his stride in seconds, setting a quick, ruthless pace that made lights pop behind his eyelids and reduced Sirius to a begging mess on the thin cotton sheets.

"So—fucking—" Remus cut himself off as a grind of his hips pressed Sirius just where he needed him and all he could do was moan. "Annoying, shitfuckrightthere."

"Me?" Sirius said incredulously. Remus could feel the gallop of his heart beneath his palm; the adrenaline of the game was still hot in their veins, pulling them together like magnets the second they'd walked out of their respective locker rooms. "C'est impossible de te prendre le palet."

Despite the accusatory tone, Remus felt it wash over him like the praise it really was. He brought himself down harder, pulling a whine out of Sirius that the neighbors could probably (definitely) hear; he took one hand off Sirius's chest and tried to touch himself, but Sirius caught his wrist lightning-quick.

"Non." All the weight of the captaincy was held in that one quiet command. Remus shivered immediately; his neglected cock dripped onto Sirius's stomach. "Over too soon. That's not what you want, loup."

He was, damn him, absolutely right.

He let Sirius draw him down for a sloppy kiss by the nape of his neck, and clenched around him just to taste the sound he made. "Want you," he said, leaning back again so he could fuck himself down onto Sirius the way they both liked, ignoring the bedsprings' protests. "Your goal in the first, Sirius..."

"Your breakaway," Sirius countered, breathing hard as he stroked Remus's flanks. "You're so fucking fast, Re. Got away from Tremzy. Got away from me."

"Never," Remus said, a little nonsensically. His grin felt stupid, lovestruck, even to himself. "With you always, baby."

He wasn't expecting Sirius to push himself up to sitting, keeping Remus in his lap with a hand on his lower back. His noise of surprise was muffled by Sirius's lips on his, as was his yelp when Sirius took him by the hips again and started to bounce him on his cock.

"Oh god," Remus cried as he broke the kiss to tip his head back and close his eyes. "Yes, yes, yes, like that!"

Anxiety, excitement, exhaustion, soreness—everything he'd felt throughout the day faded into the background until all he knew was pleasure, as thick and warm as Sirius's body was where it wrapped around him completely, surrounding and filling him all at once. He splayed his knees a little farther, Sirius brought him down hard, and he swore he was coming without so much as a finger on him.

"Baby," he managed—maybe a warning, maybe a plea. "C-coming, oh!"

His head spun as Sirius looked down between them, then up at his face and said, "Not yet. Feels that good?"

"Yes!"

"Want more?"

"Yes, Sirius, I swear to—"

This, in Remus's opinion, was the final nail in the flimsy Olympic Village bed's coffin: Sirius grabbing hold of him, rolling him onto his back, flipping him onto his belly and pulling him back onto his cock. A high, sharp cry broke loose from Remus's chest as he scrambled to get his forearms and knees under him while Sirius slid home. He could hardly stand how good it felt when Sirius started to move, could hardly stand the litany of praise washing over him in both English and French.

"So—fucking—good." Sirius punctuated it with snaps of his hips that stole the breath from Remus's lungs. He was going to come; he was going to sob; he was going to die if Sirius stopped. He sank right under to the rhythmic smack of the headboard against the wall, down so deep that nothing existed in the whole world except the feeling of his husband's body holding his, the smell of his sweat, the sound of his perfect voice behind and above him as he said things like "gorgeous, Re" and "you're amazing out there" and "wanna play with you forever."

He'd completely forgotten about his own cock, but Sirius hadn't; a few tight strokes was all it took to make his orgasm slam into him for real this time. Sirius doubled over while fucking him through it to try and catch him in a kiss, but Remus couldn't do more than moan against his lips as wave after wave of pleasure wracked him.

Up this close, Remus felt like he was drowning in a pool of silver as their eyes met. He was breathing like he'd just come off a double shift. Sirius was still hot and hard inside him, and Remus's brows pitched in a wordless plea. Sirius pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek, weighing him down just enough to stretch Remus's orgasm out to the very last dregs as his hips moved in quick, shallow thrusts, then slow, erratic ones as he gave Remus the last thing he wanted.

When Sirius finally pulled out and rolled onto his back, the bed creaked; when he coaxed Remus down to lay on his chest and Remus gave him (and the mattress) his full, afterglow-heavy weight, a distinct crack-snap was followed by the half of the bed that was underneath them hitting the floor as the frame gave, while the other half valiantly hung on at its normal height, sending the two of them rolling off onto the floor.

They stared at each other in shock for a moment, and then there was nothing to do but laugh, and laugh, and laugh.

Maybe it was a little bit his fault, but technically, it was Sirius's room (that Logan had blessedly been kicked out of for a few hours), so it was his name on the fine that was eventually mailed to their house. But Remus, being a kind and loving husband, offered to split the cost.

[foggymud]

WELCOME TO "Raw Ingredients" ep.1!! the game show where we take ur fav cookie. And dive deep too figure out what swims beneath the calm waters of the lotus paradise

today we have the newest adition to oven break, thats right the one the only the cutie!POND DINO!! or pondy for short!

So where to start? Lets see....well for one pondy isn't what they seam,there not a gummy dinosour like the ones we've seen before! They are actualy inspierd by the forget-me-not [or fmn if i ever refer to it again] flower! The name was changed in traslación for what ive heard leading too pond dino to be what we know them as!

Pond dino is also one of the few cookies with the slit eye design! While not exclusive to dragons this trait is ussualy shared among them excluding lychee [wich May play into there potencialy sucubus inspierd design, next ri might be on em ectualy]

wich further reinforces there relevance to the dragon story! And longan there self says that pondy is the only foil to there plan,more on that laiter.[side note: not all slit eye or slit like eye cookies are in the image showned]

Another thing worth of note is pondy's shape and body design, as a New born baby dino it makes sense there small stubby and chubby,but a weird thing is that they where born with not only super long "hair" that seams too twist rather then sway as well as a flower that-

APARANTLY IS EATHER SENTIENT OR APART OF THEM???? Wich all of this leads me too belive this is all apart of there boddy, meaning pondy has 6 limbs [huh kinda make sense why there with lotus now] one set of back and front flippers + the hair flippers.

and finnaly in terms of the design we have pondys color palet! Its quite simple being made out of the face tone, primeraly 2 to 3 shades of blue, some cream yellows for the eyes,flower,and tummy, as well as white for extra detail and purple for the eyes,2th layer of the flower and.....segmentación on the chest?? Im not gonna try to understand why a nonbinary they/its new born lizard that already looks quite femenet needed boob segmentación on there upper body so lets just move on.

As ive not seen the hold story i won't be able to talk much about the lore but looks like there isn't much to cover? They where born from an egg that showed up in a place where "ancient magic once held sway" if i had to guess the lotus palace or the lotus lake its self as it did have quite the amount of magical things besides lotus there self, such as lesser dragons wich while not new as we've seen them all over the place, the little elfs that worked for lotus alongside the hydrangean cookies, and that time longan sent there despicable me looking eye balls there so yeah theres a lot of magic.

And if you remember i did say i was gonna talk about longans "the only foil to my plan" line earlier so lets start with this final segment!, i belive what this line refers to is that there atempts at destroying cookie kind might not be that eficient if life [aka pond] can still emerge from it, they sunk an entierd palace and possibly flooded a hold island and jet a cookie was borned from this destrucción, longan seams to know what this implies as while still a baby pond thretends there hold plan just by existing somhow, maybe will see somthing simmilar to pond in the future, eather other babys from the ananas and pitaya islands [maybe lychee as well idk how bad there island is as the longan break out starts deep below the surface], some kind of figure or presence in history, or maybe a New legend? Who knows!

Side note below if you wanna read

Hi thanks too anyone who reads this far into the post! Even thru my crazy theories and endless rambles y bad grammer, i hope it was understandable to some degree. If you have anything that i may have forgot, got wrong, and even wanna add or share what you think on anything regarding this post feal free to inform me!. Anyways hope this was a ok post at best as i hope to do more like this in the future as it was tons of fun for me even if im not trully sure on how to takle this

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

15 Questions

Thanks for the tag Moya!

1. Are you named for anyone?

Technically yes. My middle name is a biblical one, and also my…. Aunt?? Cousin? I’ve met her but I think she’s my dad’s first cousin and I don’t know what that means I am to her.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Like… what type of cry? Sobbed? End of December. Cried? About a week ago. From laughter? Sunday night. My brother was building a clearance gingerbread house and the icing said “made in a nut free facility” and my brother leaned over to me and said “so no men there?” And I lost it. Later he just fucking leaned over and started to hands free eat the house and I lost it again. Just little tears? Last night. I saw an instagram reel and I got misty eyed. I don’t remember what it was about.

3. Do you have kids?

Haha no. I’m not strictly opposed? But I’m not fucking doing that by myself and relationships are real low priority to me.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

I used to more. Not so much anymore?

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Mostly what they’re doing. And then if they seem happy or not.

6. What’s your eye color?

Blue

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Honestly neither but I guess happy endings. But not inspiring movies. I fucking hate inspiring movies I spent enough time in church having my emotions manipulated I’m not fucking paying to sit and do it again. Miss me with that shit.

8. Any special talents?

Talent? Uh, I have super flexible shoulders? I guess I would consider my natural aptitude to figure shit out as a talent? Other things I would consider as skills cause I worked for them. So like crafts and my flexibility and writing.

9. Where were you born?

Florida.

10. What are your hobbies?

You don’t have the time to have me list them. And they rotate pretty frequently. But!! I just got a drop spindle and I’m currently obsessed with it. But crafts are definitely a constant. Any craft, I’ve probably tried it once. I’m really not kidding.

11. Have any pets?

Not at the moment. I want rats someday but I’m so busy I wouldn’t be able to give them a good life 😞

12. What sports have you played?

As a child: basketball, soccer, football (like American football lol), tennis, cheerleading.

As an adults I’m pretty active but not really in organized sports. Now I’m doing mostly running, gymnastics, and pole dancing.

13. How tall are you?

5 foot….. 5??? 6???

14. Favorite subject in school?

I honestly liked most of it. I hated geometry tho. One I always wanted to do was Linguistic but alas, FL state law kept me from doing it. 😭 (not that like linguistics specifically is illegal, google excess credit hour laws)

15. Dream job?

Hahahah i don’t even know. I don’t particularly want to work. However I wish I could do animal education at a zoo. I would love that. I would love just answering questions about iguanas.

Oh. Oh wait… my like, dream unbelievable never going to happen job would be an acrobat. Fuck. When I was younger interacting with circus related material like movies or books or even color palets would make my heart hurt. Like sometimes I couldn’t interact with it because it just hurt so much. It’s just so cool and fucking magical and mesmerizing. I loved it. And even at like 15 I thought it was too late for me to ever be a part of that world.

And then when I turned 22 and had a fucking life meltdown, I was watching fucking unus anus and heard Ethan talking about gymnastics and decided to just… try something. And I quickly found out it wasn’t too late?? That I still had a chance to learn and try and experience circus arts??? Now I’ve tried acrobatics and aerial silks and contortion and pole and got on a trapeze once. And now it’s my motivation for how I take care of myself. I have to eat food and move my body and take care of myself. I have to because if I don’t I’ll never be able to try lyra/aerial hoop. I gotta keep going because I’ve got pole on Wednesday and I’m so close to the body spiral.

When I get emotionally low I remind myself I gotta keep going so I can get back to my circus arts.

(Please note I know circus haven’t always been good and nice and happy places. I get it. I know. I’m not talking about that)

Tagging! @as-a-matter-of-whump @brutal-nemesis @cowboy-anon @i-can-even-burn-salad @jordanstrophe @just-a-silly-little-whumper @milk-carton-whump @poopraven @quietly-by-myself @redstainedsocks @susiequaz12 @thoughtsonhurtandcomfort @ziptiesnfries @tearyvictim @

[3xm-draconic]

The Jester and The Courier: a wild wasteland love

Chapter 14: Beach Episode (on a lake).

“She’s been gone for a while…a long while” Boon mumbled angrily as he tried to concentrate on playing Caravan with Raul and Cassidy “I don’t like it..”, “Ease up on her will you? She’s a grown woman and you don’t need to babysit her” Raul mumbled as he sipped a nuka-cola “hey Jane could you get me another bottle? I’am about finished with this one”, “sure thing sugar!” Jane hummed.

Ulysses and Lily came into the suite “you find the little creepy fucker?”, “LANGUAGE!” Lily snapped, “sorry, I ment did you find Cicero?”, “No, he’s nowhere in the 38 or the strip or freeside, little twit ran off again” Ulysses grumbled. Gannon huffed in annoyance, Ulysses walked over to comfort him “don’t worry we’ll find him and make sure Myrt is ok, arcady” Ulysses smirked.

Then, low and behold, Myrtle strutted in with Cicero beside her…

“Hey every-”, “WHY HAVE YOU BEEN GONE SO LONG!?” Boone screamed, “Boone calm down before I make you calm down” Joshua threatened from his seat on the couch “hello Myrtle I see you are safe and sound and our new friend is with you”, Myrtle became flustered “OH um…yeah Cicero…he wound up…um…going with me” she shrugged.

“But I thought you wanted to help the refugees alone?” Cass pondered, “I did, he just helped make sure they were ok, shock and all that, turns out he’s rather good with helping~” she grinned over at Cicero.

Joshua eyed her…

They all did…

“Well Lily is just happy her pumpkin is safe, Lily is planning to head to the lake for a nice beach day, anyone interested?”, “you know what that sounds lovely, especially with this heat wave!” Cass said, “shoot I’ll go, I’ve been dying to try out my new swim trunks” Raul grinned, “a nice relaying day on the beach? Oh yhea sign me up” Myrtle grinned.

“Oooh does that mean you’ll take Cicero Lake Lurk hunting?”, “oh yeah you bet” Myrtle grinned.

They packed up and set off towards lake mead…

On the shores of the lake they set up their little camp and got to work and play.

Joshua, ED-E and Lily set up the picnic for everyone while Boone, Ulysses and Gannon set up tents, Raul and Cassidy hung out on towels by the waterside, drinks and poker cards in hand. 

Meanwhile Myrtle, Rex and Cicero whent hunting for Lake Lurks…

“Anybody else notice how strange Myrt is acting with Cicero?” Gannon said as he sat down at the picnic table “like…she used to see him as just as freaky as we did right?!”, Boone who was grabbing a slice of Buffalo Gourd melon, looked at him “well…she has a thing…for redheads…and jesters” he bit into the melon slice “but I didn’t tell you that!”

Gannon looked at Ulysses “she…oh,Oh!, OH!?”, Ulysses started laughing, “oh for fuck’s sake she?” Gannon paused “WHIT THAT LITTLE WEIRDO?”, “look we all have our…tastes…Myrt just has an…estranged palet” Cassidy giggled. “Nunca metas tu polla en algo loco” Raul shook his head, Joshua, lightly and only in a way a friend could, slapped him in the back of the head “it’s very rude to say such things about our friends” he scolded him.

“¡Ay! ¿Qué carajo? Josh!” Raul jumped, “no offense but aren't you like thinking the same thing?” Cassidy said as she drank her sarsaparilla, Joshua sighed “Cicero may be an eccentric individual but need we forget that so is Myrt? And so what if the two are together…if they find happiness in each other then I am happy for them”, Boone eyed him “so you're not the least bit worried about this guy?”, “oh I never said that, if he turns out to be a bad influence on her I’ll introduce him to god on a one-way trip” Joshua happily hummed as he ate a squirrel on a stick.

(on a different stretch of lake mead)

“So right down there, you see 'em?”, Cicero looked down to where she was pointing and saw a strange sight…fish…men?, “THAT'S A LAKE LURK?” he squeaked, “SHHHHH, not so loud!” she hushed him “but yeah, that’s a lake lurk, ugly son of a bitch but good eatin”, Cicero looked at her oddly “is…is this technically cannibalism?”, “cannibalism implies the consumption of one’s OWN species, a human eating a human is cannibalism…I use that logic”.

“...so if Cicero were to eat a super mutant?”, “technically not cannibalism” she nodded.

Cicero’s head spun…

“And you hunted these with your mother?” he pondered as Myrtle lined up her sniper rifle, “yep, Ma had a recipe for Lake Lurk Rangoons she got from helping an old chinese ghoul get out of a bunker she was trapped in. Ma and I would make them for the troops back on the base where I grew up” Myrtle smiled “I miss Fort Calypso, she was a shit place but I miss her”.

Cicero giggled “why do you say that?”, “well, because ol’ Fort Calypso drove soldiers nuts, I remember our poor small arms repairman in the motorpool yeeting a fucking wrench through a steel locker because a dumbass lieutenant or someother fucknut in charge took his cabnits”, Cicero blinked “why’d he take his cabinets?”, “I…frankly don’t remember…something to do with car parts I think”.

She shot a Lake Lurk right in the head, “nice, let’s go collect the meat!”

As she butchered the creature she turned to Cicero “you know I’ve told you about my Ma, what about your family?”, Cicero knew he couldn't tell her more about the brotherhood…but the night they shared together he had to explain how he was an assassin…

“Cicero’s family is very poor, so Cicero did lots of odd jobs, that's how Cicero got into contract killing” he giggled “but from what Cicero remembers of his Mother he loved to bake with her, he would brush her hair and make sure it was pretty and of course he would always get her flowers, lovely nightshades and deathbells were her favorite…” he hummed, he missed the Night Mother, in a way she was his mother, his only real family besides the others.

“What about your brother? Nazir? What’s he like?”, “oh he’s so funny, he loves to make puns and cook! He’s actually my adopted brother as he comes from a desert like the Mojave” he said, “you mentioned a little sister too, it must be nice having siblings” Myrtle sighed “I grew up alone”. Cicero sighed “it…my family used to be bigger, I had more brothers and sisters and a grandfather”, “...what happened to them?” Myrtle pondered as they walked back to camp, “...fire...” Cicero said, remembering what the penitus oculatus did.

As they set up to cook the Lake Lurk, Cicero saw one of Myrtle’s friends, Joshua, reading something…

“What’s that?” he wandered over and peaked at the book, “holy scripture, reading it helps me calm my nerves and helps me focus”, “scripture?” Cicero pondered, “it’s a book about my god, the same god Myrtle worships” Joshua said as he gave the book to Cicero “you can read some if you like, I am always open to teach if you are open to learn”.

Cicero shrugged, he would never change from Sithis…but learning about other deities did intrigued him, after all the Listener worshiped a god called Talos and a daedra called Nocturnal alongside Sithis in reverence.

“So…this God of yours has no name…just God?”, Joshua sighed “yes”, “and he impregnated a mortal woman and had a demigod?”, Joshua sighed again “yes…”, “...” Cicero read more “he sounds like he has anger issues…”, Myrtle spat out her nuka-cola and Joshua stared into space with a thousand yard stare…

“Ok I think that’s enough reading for tonight” Myrtle grabbed Cicero and dragged him into her tent, Joshua sighed deeply and looked to the heavens “oh lord…give me strength not to whoop this man’s ass”.

[pesterloglog]

Vriska Serket, Meenah Peixes

Act 6, page 7688-7690

(VRISKA): You know, I've got to say.

(VRISKA): I've really turned around on horses.

MEENAH: wha

(VRISKA): Horses.

(VRISKA): I used to h8 them.

(VRISKA): Remem8er?

(VRISKA): I developed this weird superstition a8out them, a8out how they're cursed or something, and when they're around, they can only lead to 8ad things happening.

(VRISKA): Don't you remem8er how I was going on and on a8out that a while ago, at the amusement park?

MEENAH: oh

MEENAH: guess so

(VRISKA): 8ut we've 8een hanging around them a while now, and everything's 8een fine.

(VRISKA): More than fine, actually!

(VRISKA): So yeah, horses are ok in my 8ook.

(VRISKA): What do you think, Meenah?

MEENAH: aboat what

(VRISKA): Horses!!!!!!!!

MEENAH: ummmm

MEENAH: they ok

MEENAH: kinda dumb and smelly

MEENAH: be makin like

MEENAH: fucked up sounds out their big ass snouts an floppy lips

(VRISKA): Yeah.

(VRISKA): Reminds me of the weird sounds that used to come from my neigh8or's hive at weird hours of the night.

MEENAH: the fuck

(VRISKA): Don't even ask, 8ecause I don't know.

(VRISKA): So enough a8out stupid animals, whose presence have no rational explan8tion anyway.

(VRISKA): What do you want to do today?

MEENAH: today?

(VRISKA): Yeah!

MEENAH: there is no today

(VRISKA): You know what I mean!

(VRISKA): Within the am8iguous timeframe that would loosely correl8 with a single rot8tion of a planet.

(VRISKA): Any ideas?

MEENAH: na

(VRISKA): Come on!

(VRISKA): We can't just spend all our "days" hanging out in this idyllic, 8izarrely paletted cliffscape with all these stinking idiot quadrupeds.

(VRISKA): We should go exploring some more 8u88les!

MEENAH: we explored an awful lot already

MEENAH: aint they sorta all the same by now

(VRISKA): I mean, roughly speaking, yeah. They're all ar8itrary memory collages I guess.

(VRISKA): 8ut there's always something new to see every time.

(VRISKA): Whose ridiculous memory will we visit next????????

(VRISKA): Like, some nutty version of Kanaya who 8ecame a god tier in some totally ludicrous version of our session?

(VRISKA): Or may8e a version of John who never even played the game at all? May8e he went outside to look for the game, and his fatherly lusus 8acked over him with his car?

(VRISKA): Or what a8out your friends? They're always fun!

(VRISKA): Like Nepeta's ancestor... the deaf one? She's a riot! Plus she has a fascin8tingly dark history which her memories always seem to hint at.

(VRISKA): Or Eridan's douchier clone. I KNOW you have a gr8 time whenever you get the chance to own him.

(VRISKA): So what do you say?

MEENAH: eh

MEENAH: i dunno

(VRISKA): 8ut you seem kinda 8ored! If you're 8ored, doesn't it make sense to get out and try to have fun?

MEENAH: not reely

(VRISKA): 8ut...

(VRISKA): Why?

MEENAH: cause it doesnt sound that fun

MEENAH: just sounds like the same shit as always

MEENAH: like

MEENAH: exactly like dreams

(VRISKA): Dreams?

MEENAH: they ARE dream bubbles after all

(VRISKA): Yeah.

(VRISKA): 8ut... I don't...

MEENAH: dreams are also like a crazy fantasy ride full of fake shit that makes no sense

MEENAH: its a great time in theory

MEENAH: and i guess when youre younger its fun

MEENAH: maybe you even look forward to sleepin

MEENAH: to see what the great mr sandclam has in store for you next

MEENAH: but after sweeps and sweeps of dreamin

MEENAH: you get used to it

MEENAH: its just the same bogus crap yer stupid brain is just shuffling up and serving you again and again

MEENAH: so you stop paying attention and just ride out your sleep

MEENAH: then get back to business in the real world like a legit person with cool plans

(VRISKA): Huh.

(VRISKA): I don't think I've had the same experience, honestly.

(VRISKA): Sounds like kind of a 8ummer, to look at dreaming that way.

(VRISKA): I always liked dreaming! I mean, unless they were awful dreams, which was... fairly often.

(VRISKA): 8ut I'd never say I really got 8ored of them.

MEENAH: yeah well

MEENAH: you are uh

MEENAH: a bit younger than me

(VRISKA): I am?

(VRISKA): Hm.

(VRISKA): Yeah, I guess so. I never thought a8out it!

MEENAH: then again

MEENAH: we fuschia ladies

MEENAH: we sorta have to get used to being around people younger than us over our full lives

MEENAH: like

MEENAH: much younger 38\

MEENAH: or at least id have to if i was actually alive

(VRISKA): I guess you're right a8out that too.

(VRISKA): That's pretty fucked up to think a8out, actually. That if you were alive, you'd have to deal with existing nearly forever.

(VRISKA): Almost as fucked up as the fact that you have to exist nearly forever while dead, too!

MEENAH: mmm

(VRISKA): Hey.

MEENAH: ?

(VRISKA): Are you ok?

MEENAH: yup

(VRISKA): You seem really down.

MEENAH: no im cool

(VRISKA): Are you sure?

MEENAH: meh

MEENAH: maybe not

MEENAH: dont matter

(VRISKA): What's wrong?

MEENAH: nofin

(VRISKA): Argh!

(VRISKA): You know you can talk to me, right?

MEENAH: yeah

(VRISKA): So tell me!

MEENAH: i dunno whats wrong

MEENAH: id tell you if i knew

(VRISKA): Are you depressed?

MEENAH: shrug

(VRISKA): It sounds to me like you may 8e depressed a8out something.

(VRISKA): Or just... in general?

MEENAH: i dont knooooow

MEENAH: damn fishska

(VRISKA): Hey, it's ok to 8e depressed.

(VRISKA): I think just 8ecause you're dead, that doesn't necessarily let you off the hook from having psychological pro8lems.

(VRISKA): I'm pretty sure I proved that to myself on more than one occasion already. :::;)

MEENAH: yeaaah

(VRISKA): So talk to me! May8e I can help!

MEENAH: yergh

(VRISKA): What's the 8ig deal?

MEENAH: i dooont

MEENAH: WAAANNA 38(

(VRISKA): Sigh. Meenah...

MEENAH: wut??

MEENAH: im not good at

MEENAH: like

MEENAH: talkin

MEENAH: about me

(VRISKA): That's all you ever talk a8out!

MEENAH: no i mean

MEENAH: in a non aggrandizing way

(VRISKA): Oh.

VRISKA: *Cough.*

[boobersandstuff]

Hello! Ok for context before the achall post, ice listened to Taylor swift all my life, BUT I only listened to the rlly popular songs, watched the music videos or just heard a snippet of one of her songs. And ever since midnights came out I've been listening to all of her albums 1 by 1. So far I've listened to:

Midnights

Reputation

Speak now

Lover

Folklore

And evermore.

And now I'm going to listen to 1989 for the first time, let's go!

Welcome to new York.: I remember listening to the chorus in a secret world of pets and that's it. Is this song abt her first experience in NYC? Kinda repetitive but it's a pop anyways so eh. Sold 8/10 very good 👍.

Blank space: I remember just rewatching the music video we downloaded on my ipad when I was 5. SO GOOD AHHHH!! Nostalgia! I know it off by hand lmao. IM BOPPINH SO HARD RN AHHHHH 10/10 PERFECT!!!

Style: I've heard the beginning and that's it I think. MIDNIGHTS!?!?/jk lol. Nvm I've heard all of it but idk from were? Probably tiktok lol. ITS SUCH A BOP! STYLE STYLE!! WOOOO !!! WE NEVER GO OUT OF STYLE style!!! QHHHHHH 10/10 SO FUCKING GOOD!!! IM FUCKING DANCING 💃

Out of the woods: I know it from her miss Americana doco from netflix and man I love it! It's in my top 5 switie songs. Are we out of the woods yet? Are we out of the woods yet? ARE WE OUT OF THE WOODS YET!!! IM FUCKING BOP!!! AH THE BRIDGE IS MY FAV PART (said by no swiftie ever/s lol) THE ENDING PART AJHHH 1000000000/10 AHHHHHH 💗💕💙🧡💟🧡💜💃🕺💃💃🕺💃💃💃💃

All you had to do was stay: now I've never heard or listened to this song before so this is gonna be fun! WHAT!? IM POGGING! ITS SO BOPPY AH! STAY! I'm vibing. I'm dancing it's good! (Stay!) Don't worry past Taylor you have Joe now so your pretty good! 9/10 rlly good but not a 10, idk why it just isn't to me. Still amazing.

Shake it off: this the meme song too me. I can't even dance to it cuz I've herd it way too many times and it's just funny! All I can think of is tommy joking abt it lmao! I CANT SRSLY CUZ OF TOMMYINNIT KEKW. 5/10 BLAME TOMMY!!! ik all the words to it cuz of it being played 24/7!!!

I wish you would: again a brand new song! Let's see it! Bop, it's definitely a bop. Nothing idk now from the songs before. It's good but isn't giving me that energy like the last couple of songs, STILL RLLY GOOD just isn't making me get up and dance. 6-7/10 just isn't give that energy.

Bad blood: I remember watching the music video when it came out and being confused, I looked at here to check that I wasn't misrembering it. Nope. it looks the exact how I remember. I don't like it! WHY ARE THEIR NAMES THERE I DONT CARE!!! take away their names and it'd be 1000% better in my oppion. Anyways the songs pretty good 👍. Nothing to add it's cachy and good. Solid 8/10. The music video made it lose 2 points. Again the bridge is the best part lol.

Wildest dreams: imma be honest, I've listened to the TV first and never heard the og. And I'm listening to the TV first then the og cuz I rlly love the TV. (TV 10/10 comfort listen.) It's deffo different. The pace different. Her voice is higher but that's abt it. It's like listening to a nightcore cover of a song lol. Og I'd give it an 10/10 + 1 . The exstra point is for the nightmare esc different lol.

How you get the girl: new song YIPPEE!! I'm swaying. It's pretty bopping. I'm vibing! YOOO THE chorus YAAAA. IM DANCING!!! that kisses on cheeks line was pretty gay ngl lol. The ending is good. 9/10 very good!

This love: again new song! But there's a TV of it out rn so imma listen to that insted. It's giving lover/folklore mashup. IT LITCHERALLY SAID CARDENAGAIN!!! WTF HAHAHA!!! it's very nice. Idk what to say it's just rlly good! TV 9/10 very good 👍. I wonder who this songs abt? Hm. Smth for me to google later lol. It's a nice palet clenzer for the playlist to not get burnt out on the bop. Also the TV is exactly the same.

I know places: is it just me or is the beat the exact same as shake it off or is it just me? Anyways it's good. IM POGGING YOOOOO!!! IM VINING AGAIN YOOO!!! It's giving the archer. 10/10 very good!

Clean: I remember listening to a snippet of the song on tiktok but i dong remember it lol. Ok this is very different from any of her songs. I'm vibing. I'm semi-pogging. It's pretty good. It's achally rlly good wtf hahaha! WHAT WAS THAT LINE "the water filled my lungs, I Screamed so loud but no one heard a thing" WTF!? TAYLOR HONEY R U OK!? WHAT HAPPEND!? also that was a very good lyric very good! I just clocked the lyrics wth!? Omg it's so sad but so good. 10/10 I love it. "Just because your clean doesn't know you don't miss it" TAYLOR!!? THATS SO SAD!! IM GONNA CRY!!! (Also I relate he 😜🤪😝) . Why is it so sad T T. I'm crying!!! It's so sad. WAHHHHHH.

Wonderland: I remember watching a music video of the same name (or at leased similar cuz of the mv) and I've never listened to TV so let's go. It's giving Christmas lol. SHES RAPPING LETS GOOOO YESSS YOOOO!!! I'm vibing. YOOOO THE PRODUCTION LETS GOOOO YESSSS. "And whispers turned to talk, and talking turned to screams" cough relate cough cough 0-0. Fuxk yeah! This is a song I wanna learn off by heart! Ah it's so good!!! 10/10 maybe my fav song in the album.

You are in love: the title reminds me of that one Disney sing from Hercules. MIDNIGHTS O! very slow. It's rlly good! It's giving dancing with our hands tied and that's a complement! Aw I'm so happy for you Taylor //^ ^//. It's giving ✨queer✨ for that best friend line. My favourite line was that best friends line. 9/10 very good! Very gay!

New romantics: holy shit! I wasn't expecting semi-rapping & kinda aro lyrics ngl. ITS A POP YOOOO!!! IM VIBING AND POGGING AND FUCK!!! I'm smiling sm to this :D. This is my favourite! I love it ❤ ♥ 💕 💓 . 20/10 AH! LETS GOOOO YES!!!

Now I have questions

What's these? And what did they sound like?

Favourite songs from this album:

1.) New Romantics

2.) You are in love

3.) Out of the woods

4.) Wildest dreams (tv)

5.) Clean

[bleulone]

It’s very interesting to consider how they will file the Polin love scenes. Partly because I can’t think of many (if any) plus-size female romance scenes that aren’t played for humour at the woman’s expense or where she has to be deeply insecure about her body the whole time and so is filmed mostly covered up.

Obviously it depends on the comfort of the actors but my main concern which is really shallow is the 12 inch height difference which makes Pen and Colin look really awkward on screen. Phoebe and Simon only have a 6inch difference for scale. I’m worried they will skimp out on any good season one style love scenes to avoid it looking awkward on camera. I’m thinking they’ll go safe which is so boring.

Hey! Thank you for sharing this interesting point of yours :) In all honestly, I don’t find Polin’s height difference to be that awkward. On the contrary, I really love it and see it as rather aesthetically pleasing and... very sexy in some ways! I feel like the level of hotness radiated by their upcoming love scenes will highly depend on the visual storytelling, on the choices of the camera angles— the way they’ll focus on the bodies’ movements and espouse our characters’ feelings, enhancing the colorful erotic shade of their relationship.

Plenty of sex scenes featured actors in movies and series despite a considerable height difference. For instance, we can think of Euphoria’s Alexa Demie and Jacob Elordi. Thanks to a specific color palet for the lightning, the scores and a large range of shots chosen to increase intimacy between two characters, viewers are immersed in this steamy atmosphere. They present themselves as useful tools which meticulously help creating physical and emotional intimacy between two people— these tools underlining their common story which naturally fuel the burning carnal desire they feel for one another. You can check this interesting little video concerning this topic in the hit-series Normal People. It reveals the key elements needed to its creation : chemistry, comfort and getting to know the character you play.

With that being said, I don’t think Luke and Nicola’s twelve inches of difference can work in their disfavor nor that it risks to be accidentally cringy. Though a certain cringe of another nature could appear mainly due to the way both Penelope and Colin were portrayed in season 1. Young, uncertain and shy, they don’t stand, walk nor behave confidently like their elders, not when they’re actually making their first steps into the world. By the time the future seasons come out, some radical changes are yet to be seen, first in their personalities then in their physical appearances, making them the self assured and experienced adults they are meant to be. Thus, we, (especially the readers), won’t struggle to picture them being all horny and naughty after the amount of cuteness they served us in s1 ahah.

About the sex itself, in Romancing Mister Bridgerton, Colin is very conscious of his imposing 6 foot-ness which will push him to be even more careful with our (5’1) Penelope when he initiates intimate touches with her. He doesn’t want to intimidate her. He makes sure to not crush her with his weight on the plush cushion of the carriage/of the soft mattress of his bed when he places himself on top of his love and passionately kisses her. He even pulls her on top of him at some point to make her feel comfortable with his body (and the proof of his need). It’s a nice call back to the scene in Chapter 18 where Colin, before deflowering Penelope, is very concern about hurting her or doing anything she doesn’t like during the act. To what she lovingly answers “Let me be the judge”, meaning that Pen’s pleasure is put in the center of his attention... or a wonderful mark of the female gaze : Penelope takes her own agency in the deep exploration of her sexuality. Those elements are most likely to be translated on screen through the uses of close ups on their faces, eyes, hands and other body parts... and DIALOGUE ! It will be so adorable seeing Colin eager to put her needs before his and making sure that Penelope is enjoying herself as much as he does.

I don’t know what our couple are willing to show but I’m still hoping we get the same type of steamy scenes Daphne/Simon and Anthony/Siena had in season 2 (and why not more lol)— IF, like you said, the actors are comfortable with nudity obviously (which they’ve probably signed up for). Once again, I feel like it’ll be very gripping to see a plus-size woman’s half naked body in a period drama getting the same depiction as a slim one, showing that curviness doesn’t prevent you from being desirable or sexy to the eye of your significant other as well as the mainstream public.

In any case, I’m sure Lizzy Talbot, Bridgerton’s intimacy coordinator, and the directors will perfectly know how to stage and depict this fondamental aspect of the show, aka hot!Polin, on screen. Hell, they can even surprise us, innovate, by not necessarily being “boring” but still going safe. They’re a fan favorite couple so I have faith in what the production has in store for us and for our boos. After all, the show already set its tone in season 1 : it’s lavish and sexy as hell. Plus, Chris Van Dusen and Jonathan Bailey said in previous interviews that season 2 will be even more sexier... so yeah, season 3 and 4 are definitely following on from this. Even Nicola and Luke are very fan of the ship and the fandom’s love for them ^^. Either way, having a very long slow burn like Polin will be such a wild ride and trust me, when the payoff’ll finally arrive, imma savor every second of it!

[dontcare77ghj]

Teach me

Steve x reader x Wanda x Bucky

You'd all joined the Avengers at different points throughout the years. Steve had been the first, you'd come a few months later, then Wanda had joined and finally Bucky.

As you were part of the same team, you'd all been friends long before the prospect of a relationship. The four of you were too nervous to act on any feelings you shared, and it had driven the team crazy. It had driven the team so crazy that Natasha, Clint, and Tony had locked the four of you in a room and refused to let you out until you all admitted your feelings.

Two years down the track, the four of you were the most effective team this world had seen. Together, missions were easy. You did what you needed to in a quick and almost systematic way. 

As a quad, the four of you seemed to always be learning new things about each other. Even after years of being a team, friends, even after dating for two years. It appeared the surprises never ended.

"Am I allowed to move yet?" Wanda questioned Steve for the seventieth time.

"I'm almost done with the outline, Wand. Just a little longer, you look beautiful." Steve told her.

"Couldn't you just take a photo of her and work off that?" You asked, watching the scene from the sidelines. "Wanda looks like she's going to kill you."

"I could, but it wouldn't be the same." Steve shook his head. "Okay, I have an outline, you can move now, sweetheart," Steve told Wanda.

"Thank you." Wanda sighed. "Alright, I love you, but I'm going to lay down now. My back is killing me." She said, pressing a kiss to yours and Steve's cheeks.

"I still think you should have just taken a photo of her." You reiterated. "You never finish a painting in a day. You still have one you tried to do of the three of us that remains unfinished."

"I have to wait for the paint I want to arrive. There are certain colors I want to use, and I can't quite mix them." Steve told you as he got paint onto his palet. 

"But still, Steve, how do you remember all the details you need to?" You questioned, tilting your head to the side.

"Because he's a lovesick sap and stares at us too often," Bucky said, entering and sitting beside you.

"Look who's talking." Steve snickered, glancing up to see Bucky pull you onto his lap.

"I at least admit it," Bucky said, nuzzling his face into your neck.

"How hard is painting?" You asked Steve.

"Not very hard. It's all about the amount of patience and time you put into it." Steve told you. "Did you ever learn to paint?"

"No, I was homeschooled even before my mutation kicked in." You shrugged. "Art wasn't part of my father's curriculum."

"We're going to fix that," Steve said, pulling the canvas off the stand and replacing it. "Come here." Steve held his hand out for you. Climbing out of Bucky's lap, you walked over to the blonde. Steve positioned you in front of the blank canvas and put a brush in your hand. 

"What are we painting?" You quizzed Steve as he stood behind you.

"Whatever you want to paint," Steve said, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck.

"Whatever I want?"

"Whatever you want. You just say it, and I'll help you." Steve promised.

"I want to paint Buck." You looked back at the blonde with a smile.

"Then, Bucky, you shall paint." He said, beginning to teach you to paint.

For the next two hours, Bucky remained still as Steve guided you in your attempt at painting. When your impromptu art class was done, you had a finished picture of Bucky. It wasn't great, it wasn't terrible either, but it meant something to you because it was something you did with Steve. It was something Steve had taught you.

Non-reader POV

"How's Pietro?" Steve asked Wanda after she hung up the phone. 

"He's doing well." Wanda smiled. "He's joined in some prank war that Clint started. He sounded very content with himself." She added, taking a seat next to Steve.

The quad had been on vacation for the past two weeks. The world had been quiet for the past few weeks. And as Tony pointed out, now was the perfect time to take that vacation, the four of you had been talking about.

Two weeks ago, the four of you had all packed a couple bags and taken Tony's jet to his house in Australia. A home he'd ever so graciously loaned to the four of you, provided you do him a favor one day in the future.

Pray to Thor Tony got drunk enough to forget all about the promise of a favor.

"They haven't burned down the tower, have they?" Steve asked her, worry coloring his tone. Clint and Pietro working together was not a good idea.

"Not yet," Wanda assured him. "Give them another week, and we'll revisit this conversation."

"Don't even joke about that." Steve chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"He's a good man even if he does act like a debil." She smiled, resting her head on Steve's broad shoulder.

"Debil?" Steve rose an eyebrow. "I don't think I know that one."

"It's like an idiot, but a step further." Wanda attempted to explain to him.

"Moron?" Steve offered.

"Yes. Moron." Wanda snapped her fingers. "Pietro can act like a moron, but he has a good heart."

"How do you say that? Good heart?" Steve questioned, turning towards her.

"Khorosheye serdtse." 

"Khorosheye serdtse,"  Steve repeated clumsily. "Khorosheye serdtse." He said again with much more clarity this time.

"Very good." Wanda smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

"Could you teach me some more?" Steve asked her with an enthused grin.

"Of course," Wanda told him. The two sat on the couch for the next hour, Wanda patiently teaching an eager Steve her native language, until Y/N and Bucky arrived. 

"We're back!" Y/N said as she and Bucky entered the living room, arms laden with grocery bags.

"Dobro pozhalovat' domoy." Wanda and Steve greeted the two in unison.

"I didn't know you spoke Sokovian, Steve." Y/N commented as Wanda moved to help you and Buck.

"I didn't speak it until an hour ago," Steve said, kissing first Bucky and then you in greeting. "Wanda's been teaching me."

"Tell me, is Steve still a terrible student?" Bucky asked, causing Y/N and Wanda to giggle as Steve scowled.

"I was always a good student." He denied the brunette.

"Our French teacher wanted to wring your neck." Bucky deadpanned.

"He was a dick," Steve swore under his breath, but the other occupants of the room heard it, evident by their boisterous laughter.

"Anyway, what other sentences did you learn?" Y/N asked the blonde.

"Ya lyublyu vsekh vas," Steve said. "I love you all." He repeated in English.

"Love you too, sweetheart." Y/N said, kissing the man quickly.

"Love ya, ya punk," Bucky said, also kissing the man once Y/N had moved away.

"I think you'll have to teach me more Sokovian Wanda," Steve commented.

"I'll gladly teach you, Steve. Any time." Wanda responded with a smile.

"That smells really good," Wanda commented, entering the kitchen to see Bucky behind the stove. 

"Thank you," Bucky said, looking up at her entrance. "I picked it up while on the run." He mentioned, pushing some of his hair out of his eyes.

"You need to do the cooking more often," Wanda told him, sneaking a taste of the sauce.

"Germs, Wand," Bucky said, shooing her away from the stove. "Besides, if I did all the cooking, we wouldn't get to have your paprikash." 

"I'll teach you how to make paprikash if you teach me how to make whatever this is." Wanda bargained.

"It's chicken marsala," Bucky explained to her. "And you've got yourself a deal." He added, shaking her hand.

"Great." Wanda chirped, throwing her hair into a ponytail. "What can I do to help?"

"Can you use the mallet and flatten the chicken out?" Bucky asked her.

"Yes, chef," Wanda smirked, moving over to the board where the chicken breasts were waiting. "So who taught you how to make this?"

"I was bussing at a restaurant somewhere in Italy," Bucky told her. "I was friends with one of the chefs, and he would teach me some recipes after hours. This was one of the few things I was good at."

"I highly doubt you weren't able to master everything you were taught." Wanda rolled her eyes at his modesty.

"Seriously." Bucky nodded. "I almost burnt the kitchen down once. I spilled a bottle of liqueur near the flame and would've burnt the whole place down. If it weren't for the fact, there were fire extinguishers in every corner of that place."

"Maybe we should bring that idea back to the tower." Wanda giggled as she finished flattening out the chicken. "Okay, what next chef?"

"We get them in the pan," Bucky told her. "Bring the board over, and I'll show you the perfect way to get them cooked perfectly."

"Bold words." Y/N said as she and Steve entered the kitchen.

"Just you wait, kitten. You'll see." Bucky promised, smiling as the two sat at the island.

"How was your day?" Steve asked Wanda and Bucky.

"Surely much more relaxing than the two of yours," Wanda smirked. "How was the skype meeting?"

"Hell." Y/N groaned, resting her head on the marble. "It's such bullshit they called. We're on vacation." 

"I know, moy sladkiy." Wanda cooed. "If you want, I can tell Pietro to annoy them." She offered, turning the chicken as Bucky told her.

"Fury would kill him, doll," Bucky told the witch. 

"And Tony would glue his feet to the floor." Steve chuckled. 

"Dinner is almost ready." Bucky nodded, stepping away from Wanda to open the wine. "Y/N, could you grab plates and glasses? Steve, could you grab the cutlery?" Bucky asked.

"You got it." Y/N said, hopping off the stool.

Y/N and Steve set the table as Wanda and Bucky finished off the delicious-smelling meal.

"And we proudly present chicken marsala," Bucky said, dishing up each plate.

"This is delicious, you guys." Y/N moaned.

"And that is the highest compliment I need," Bucky said, cutting into his own meal. "What do you say, Wand?"

“It’s all I need.” Wanda smiled.

Reader POV

The four of you had returned home a month ago. You immediately wished you were back in Australia. It seemed as the world was on pause in Australia, but the second the four of you returned to New York, the world was playing again.

It had been back to back missions and meetings for the past month, and it was taking its toll on you. You felt drained. You felt tired, no matter the amount of caffeine you consumed. But you also felt too wired to even try to sleep.

You needed a break. You need five minutes for yourself.

It was 1:04 in the morning as you dragged yourself out of your shared bed. You grabbed the bag you left by the elevator doors and stepped in, rubbing your eyes before stretching.

"To the studio, please," You said, leaning against the wall.

"Of course." The Irish A.I. said before making the elevator move. You quickly made it to the studio and sat on the floor as you opened your bag. Pulling out your pointe shoes brought into you a feeling of nostalgia. 

It had been a while since you'd pulled them out of storage. 

The lacing of your pointe shoes and the stretches were ingrained into your bones. You were almost vibrating in joy as you tied the final lace. It was funny, you hated ballet when you were younger. Hated that you were pushed into it with no regard as to your own feelings. Yet now, it brought you joy. Brought you calm.

The world faded as you asked F.R.I.D.A.Y. to play your playlist. You had finished your third routine when you heard slow clapping behind you. Looking up and into the mirrors, you saw Bucky standing behind you with a smile.

"Did I wake you?" You puffed out, spinning around to face him.

“Wasn’t sleeping anyway.” Bucky told you, stepping forward. “You were so into your dances, you didn’t even notice me standing there.”

“Sorry.” You muttered, looking down.

“Nothing to be sorry about, kitten.” Bucky said, raising your chin and kissing you softly. “You looked beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You responded, cheeks flushing redder than they already were.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dance before.” Bucky stated. 

“You weren’t missing much.” You shrugged, moving for your water bottle. “I don’t do it as often as I’d like anyway.”

“Don’t say that, kitten. I think you’re really good.” He said, sitting next to you. “Do you think you could teach me a little?”

“Really?” You asked him in surprise. No one had ever wanted to dance with you.

“Really, really.” He smiled. 

“Okay.” You grinned. “Okay yeah. I can teach you whenever you want.”

“How about now?” Bucky suggested, standing and holding a hand out to you. You smiled widely and grabbed his hand and he twirled you into his arms. “See I already know a few tricks.”

“Guess an old dog can learn new tricks.” You teased him. “Let’s see if I can teach you a few more.” You added, leading him into the middle of the room.

Time flew by as you began to teach Bucky. The tricks started off easy but it turns out Bucky was a fast learner and an ambitious one. The sun was beginning to enter the room as you and Bucky tried a new lift (12 seconds).

“Please don’t drop me.” You laughed giddily.

“Never, Y/n.” He promised, gently lowering you down.

“Do we want to know how long you two have been in here?” Wanda asked, standing in the doorway, red robe tied tightly over her body. Steve stood beside her in his pajamas with a smile on his face.

“Probably not.” You nodded.

“You do know it’s six in the morning, right?” Steve asked the two of you. After the two of you shook your heads, he let out a sigh. “Come on, let’s get some breakfast. The two of you can show us what you’ve been up to after.”

“Sounds good to me.” Bucky said, grabbing your bag in one hand and your hand in the other.

The four of you had been together for years, and yet the four of you were constantly teaching each other new things.

Taglist

@rvgrsbrns @smilexcaptainx @hopingforbarnes @starlingelliot @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @jelly-fishy-babie @skeletoresinthebasement @agent-barnes40 @reann-loves-sebstan @skadikh

Coming soon

Dean x reader Cas

Bucky x reader x Natasha

Meg x reader x Cas

Wanda x reader x Vision

Steve x reader x Bucky x Peggy

[mycosylivingroom]

2017 part 3

7-10-2021. I made 3 drawings. this is a redraw of my old 2012 movement vs statique. This time with the 2017 artwork I limited my colour palet to a few colours, in all of my 2017 artwork I used a small colour palet

I used stabilo pens, fineliners. thats all

and water colour for the backround.

My work became more abstract

10-10-2021. I redraw the art works from my old school agendas. It was also close to halloween so I drew halloween themed drawings

heres my second halloween piece. I loved drawing candles again a limited colour palet and I used water colour for the backround

This is my third halloween piece.I had a obession with drawing candles, when I like to drew themes I will draw lots of times till I get bored of them

the last halloween like drawing

this one was my favorite

This another redraw like drawing. It took me back to 2011 and ofcourse candles, back to the day where I would use lots of colours, I made 3 drawin like this. This serie was called the mysterious garden.

heres the second drawing. Made on 10-11-2017

the third date with my ex boyfriend, we were sitting in the living room playing rumicup but we went upstairs the next sunday well my mom loves her privacy and so do I. He came every sunday to hang out. Especaly the first few years but I said to him I only want to chill out once a two weeks at friday and he was always welcome on sunday afternoon

Also on september 2017 I started piano lessons, I had them too when I was a young teen but I stopped, but I retook the lessons. Its in the Zierikzee, its not in a music school

And on 18-11-2021. I made this lovely drawing

On 20-11-2017

I made another abstract piece only using 2 colours.

27-11-2021

My first doodle drawing abstract, no colours. I used the thick fineliner for the big lines and the small one for the doodles

on 2-12-2017

I made a colour version of this snake theme

[popculturebuffet]

The Legend of the Three Caballeros: Mt. Fuji Whiz and Thanks a Camelot Reviews: Thank God, No Daisy (Comissioned by WeirdKev27)

Saludos amgios and welcome to the final sprint of THE RIDE OF THE THREE CABLLEROS. If your wondering if this is a bit soon.. that’s because it is. While I planned to do the episodes as is before.. this bottom half of the series so far has been so good I couldn’t bare waiting days to get to the next episode just as things are getting really good, especially after the last episode’s cliffhanger. So today, I intend to FINISH the series, with an epilogue next week for my look at the cabs as a whole via a top 12 moments list. Plus i’m already excited for the next retrospective, so there’s that. And yeah Kev’s funding ANOTHER one and you can too.. serioulsy just shoot me an ask for any solo episode or arc you wan’t covered. But now’s not the time for shameless plugs, it’s the time for adventure and to sew up a cliffhanger! So come with me after the cut for some ghouls, ghosts and arthur won’t you?

PREVIOUSLY ON LEGEND OF THE THREE CABLLEROS:

And now the conclusion...

Mt. Fuji Whiz:

First off... let’s talk about the episode titles for the series since I don't think I have yet. 

It has bothered me for the ENTIRE run of the series how terrible most of them are. There all a pun of some kind on something involved with the episode.. but out of 13 episode titles the only ones I like are World-Tree Caballeros, No Man is an Easter Island, Stonehenge Your Bets, Nazca Racing and Thanks a Camelot. And most of them fit the theme of the episode with the exception of Stonehenge: World Tree is a clever pun they couldn’t NOT use, no man fits the theme of the episode as bad as that episode is, Nazca Racing is just another good pun and fits the race at the end, and thanks a Camelot while a very simple one, fits the story of that episode, i.e. everyone's dissatisfaction with Arthur’s training. More on that later. Point is the rest are just.. really cringe inducing puns. And I do LOVE a good pun.. but that’s a GOOD pun, not obvious ones about a “pyramid life-crisis” or a play on gee whiz in 2018 for god’s sake. And the finale title is just.. really awful as they gave up entirely and named it after square dancing for HOPEFULLY no adequate reason. And look the series is a comedy first with the action second, pun titles would be fine.. their just so bad it sucks all the pun out of them. See what I did there? THAT’S a pun. And not even a great one, but it’s still better than this. It feels like the titles were an afterthought and it’s obnoxious. and frustrates me every time I have to type them out. And with only four episodes left I had to get it out sometime. 

So moving onto the actual episode we pick up with the ending of last episode: Death killing the Cabs and Team Sheldgoose. And as we see shortly. he wasn’t bluffing. We pick up with them in the underworld in a dmv line. My god.. it’s even worse of a beaurcrcy than Beetlejuice. Feldrake informs the cabs where they are and Donald, being Donald, dosen’t have the patience to wait in line with the bilions of souls down there, especially since the take a number thing gave them a number that needed to be printed on both sides.. and their at 4. Good gag though. So Donald storms out the moment he sees and exit and our boys head into the city of the Damned. Sheldgoose meanwhile decides to do his best Karen and demands ot speak with the manager.. whose another Sheldgoose it turns out. Uh-Oh.  After the credits our boys explore the city and hoping not to get hit with more ghost cards, find shelter in a little tavern owned by none other than Clinton Coot, Donald’s Great-Grandpa and father of his grandmother Elvira Coot. Clinton initally mistakes the boys for their ancestors, and is disapionted in meeting donald, but once he learns their the ones that inehreted his Cabana, he’s exastic to meet and learn about them. We also learn he had a collection of fragile frontiersman figurines.. which cleverly, are all various versions of Scrooge from life and times. His second cowboy outfit from the side story “The Vigilante of Pizen Bluff”, his prospector outfit from “Terror of the Tranysval”, his klondike prospecter outfit and him finding the goose egg nugget from “King of The Klondike” and him bitterly hauling a sack of his loot into town from the same story. Also some palet swaps of all but the last one because animation is expensive. Panchito.. destroys them all while putting down his pIzza. “NOTHINGS BROKEN”. Clinton then invites the boys to have a sip of his memories, literally he drains some out and despite their relcutance the cabs take a chug.  They reveal prettty much.. every nagging question about the cabana. Clinton, after finding out about his ancestor Duego Duck, the original cabs version of donald, Clinton traveled the world and the 7 seas, everybody’s looking for something.. and he was looking for every trace of the cabs, and their mysterious ally, who we know as Xandra. He gathered all of it, hence the massive collection of books and magical treasures in the cabana, eventually finding their hidden lair and building his cabana on top of it, founding New Quackmore with Sheldgoose’s own great grandmother.. who betrayed him and took the institute from him. His consolation prize was finding Ari and the atlas but he couldn’t open it like the boys and is curious what they found. I absolutely love this and while I feel Clinton’s history would’ve worked better as an overaching mystery, there were seeds for all of this planeted throughout the season, with Sheldgoose being in charge despite the name and Clinton being involved, Shelgoose’s mention a sheldgoose has always been president, and the tease last episode. Still would’ve liked MORE exploration and build up to this , but what we got was facenating upgrading Clinton from a footnote on the duck family tree, to a throughly loveable character: A guy who was so fascenated by his ancestor’s adventures he became an adventurer himself and who lovingly catalogued eveyrthing the guy and his friends ever did.. and had some heartrending reasons why we’ll get to. 

 As Jose leads in with not what but WHO, and likely tells clint about their adventures, a clever way to get that exposition out off screen, we cut back to the world of the living. Xandra is beating herself up, if not literally over things, and while the girls just suggest going to the underworld via zoom point, Xandra points out that won’t work. There’s only one way in: Charon, the greek ferryman of the dead.. and she realizes that’s exactly how, while the girls try a seance.  I’ll just cover the séance stuff now. The girls hold a séance to summon the boys, finding some unfinished business (A piece of said pizza) and having ari dress like a fortune teller because eh why not. There’s some good gags and stuff, but it’s mostly plot irrelvant, only hurting Panchito’s brain at first, then summoning him just as their about to fight a Tengu, with humphrey eating the pizza finsihing the buisness. Not a bad plot at all and certainly refreshing after all the Daisy nonsense last episode, but nothing really important.  Meanwhile let’s also get to Xandra’s subplot, which is both mroe relevant and funnier and again i’ll be covering all at once for convience. Xandra finds that the horn to summon Charon... is now a sax.  Huh so THAT’S what pamela anderson’s character CJ was doing when she was introduced on baywatch. 

Anyways turns out Charon’s reinvented the old boat and since Xandra’s an immortal he offers her a free ride. It’s now a cruise ship with him as the captain, voiced by voice acting legend Jim Cummings who does a fantastic job. The reasonings also brilliant: he wasn’t getting many WILLING souls with his creepy old setup, so he reinvinted things and now has a packed house, plenty of coins and a nonstop party. He even gives us an add for the buisness... this whole thing is fucking amazing and deserves to be praised and is the series at it’s best: taking something mythic and giving it some wacky but still clever tweaks. Xandra eventually gets annoyed as he isn’t going into the city so she can’t look for the cabs and takes the wheel, cursing her to be the captain now, but she just uses that to get in and finds clinton who agrees to guide her to the boys... we’ll get to where he guided them in a moment. 

And that moment is now, Clinton tells the boys there is a way out, but it involves fighting the Tengu, which is misdentified as a falcon despite, even as someone with only a surface knowledge of yokai, I knew it’s modled after a crow, or at least some versions are as it turns out.. and so is the one here so how did they screw that one up?

Point is they need to get past it, and are on a timer as when the Creepy combination of jack skeltington and that moon from Majora’s mask that’s in the sky sets and night ends, their stuck. But first they run into a guard who says they have to fill out paperwork.. and his superior is intend on that, his superior being unsuprisingly sheldgoose, who got the gig since his family runs the afterlife. Oh goodie the rich also somehow run death....

But Donald decides FUCK PAPERWORK, throws it in the air and they run for it with Sheldgoose sicing the tengu on them, which looks awesome by the way. Panchito disappears as mentioned before just as they get a plan but returns in time to free his friends and they triumph.. only for Sheldgoose to not take this lying down and summon his entire family to kick their assses. So both sides power up: having learned the trick from clinton earlier, the cabs inflate.. part of their bodies while sheldgoose forms a voltron style fusion made up of his ancestor’s heads.. with the caveman as the crotch. 

So a fight insues that’s fluid and beautifully animated, and Xandra even arrives to provide backup, with Charon relieving her because he’ could loose his five star rating. I hear you man I struggled just to get my island up to a four. So it becomes a gorgeously animated and awesome fight with Clinton joining inn, finally able to be one of his heroes. He also reitarates something he told donald, that it’s not the journey.. it’s who you take it with and part of his love of the cabs was never having companions like that. Donald takes it to heart and our heroes take their leave, Clinton finally having achieved his lifes’ work. They decide to see japan because why not. Maybe they’ll run into hannibal there. 

And to tie things off, Shelgoose and Feldrake, whose spent the etnire epsidoe still in the staff depsite being dead and...

And find.. a demonic version of Donald in a devil costume, from that short with the devil and angel Donald's.. okay I have some questions. 

He sends them back and we’re out

Final Thoughts for Mt. Fuji Whiz: One of the series best. It’s well paced, has an amazing concept and both sideplots have some form of relevance while being utterly hilarious, especially the charon one. Seriously best bit character of the series calling it now. Already headcanon him as part of the ducktales universe. Along with a lot of this actually. IT’s good stuff and despite the series falts episodes like this prove why it really needed, and still needs, a second season. 

Thanks a Camelot:

Our heroes return to the land of the living with Xandra and to the Cabana, and while Donald wants to relax a bit, Xandra being an ass shoots that down. Though her reasons are valid: Feldrake has been stepping up his game with every scheme.. which is true. HIs last two schemes, not counting his post mortem one, only BARELY didn’t kill them and actually did kill them, and him too but that wasn’t on purpose. They need some good old fashioned hero training so Xandra’s taking the to king arthur and camelot, which of course are still around, to get it and since his training involves leaving everything behind, they leave htier weapons and other stuff behind including their amulets.. which haven’t come up since but are now since their important to the finale i’m guessing and they’ve been wearing the whole time. The girls are tagging along too as they want to document things because the plot says so but their entertaining so fine and leaving Ari and the Bear to guard. And the barrier.. more the barrier.  So with our heroes off Feldrake decides they need to strike and Sheldgoose has a plan to get around the barrier to get Humphrey’s spark: hide inside a cake and have humphrey so overcome by his desire for cake he comes to them. Feldrake is unimpressed but it works.. and even better as he drags them in.. but apparently while Feldrake’s protections are keyed to our heroes bloodline.. coot’s only extneded to feldrake. Which makes sense: he was friends with a Sheldgoose and probably didn’t consider her an enemy till he’d already set the spells, and cleverly, and i’d forgotten this till writing this review: Sheldgoose has already BEEN on the Cabana grounds once and to the doorstep, in the first episode when he visited the yardsale and in the finale of the second when he showed up to give Donald his check. So the show even showed it.. we just didn’t think about it or assumed having the ring meant he couldn’t now. But nope Sheldgoose is inside and Humphrey’s knocked out. 

Back in merry old Camelot, I apolgoize for having a deficit of spamalot and Monty Python refrences, our heroes meet King Arthur, voiced by former star of said spamelot John O’ Hurley, who I was going to give a good treatment and go into his career.. then I found out he’s VERY conservative, pro trump even post riot and generally kind of an ass in how he conducts himself soooo instead a hearty

Does a good job here, still a weasel fiesta. So King Arthur trains our heroes.. via motivational statments, trust falls and what not with his knights who get the same traning, one of which is Gallhad, a frog voiced by the same guy who viced Kermit on muppet babies. Yayyyyy. The girls wonder off, finding Merlin, whose busy with spells and such and clarfying which one is which. They give him june’s phone as Merlin has a video game addiction but Arthur forbids it because well. he has a problem why wouldn’t he.  Ruined Todd Chavez’s life it did. I mean it’s exceptional now but it took a bit of living on a drunken horse with serious issues couch. 

Anyways, Donald soon gets fed up because.. hes Donald. And because.. Tony kinda leans on the more classic constantly angry donald in this one, since he DID help write the lines. It’s not BAD mind you.. but I prefer the melding of his comics and shorts self other works did, the smug ego and everyman desperation to be noticed and liked from the comics mixed with the ego but also tons of rage of the shorts. Kinda like how Daffy had his own egotistical smartguy version merged with his screwball version for the Looney Tunes Show.. which i’ve been rewatching lately. Even better than I remember, highly underated. 

My point is this Donald, as we approach the end .. isn’t for me. He’s just not as intresting as the cloudcuckoolander panchito or the smootha nd wise jose. He ballances them well, being the more direct angry one to panchito’s unpredicablity and Jose’s smooth compemplation. He’s not BAD, and i get why some would prefer this one over Ducktales, as he’s more in line with his classic characterzation.. but I just prefer a more nuanced Donald and this one isn’t it. He spends most of the series either complaning, pissed off, or pining for an ungreatful she demon. There’s not a lot of notes compared to Jose or Panchito, as Jose isn’t just a ladies man or a charmer but a fairly smart guy who has pretty damn good plans and Panchito isn’t just spacey but, kind brave and with his own moral code. They just got more fleshing out as things went and Donald didn’t and it’s disappointing. 

So Donald gets fed up with the training, and calls out it’s only motivatoinal, with the other cabs agreeing, if more tactfully, and the knights.. also agreeing, pointing out King Arthur dosen’t even do his own goofy self motivational exercises and abandon him.. at the worst possible time as the girls conjur up a super powerful magical dragon. So the knights leave him to it and Arthur is too cowardly to face it. So the Cabs do what he won’t and charge in to defend the holy grail, called the grail of immortality here for ..r easons, and fight the dragon.. and Arthur joins them, inspired to finally get his groove back and gives the knights a rousing speech and even reconclies with donald. So our heroes fight the dragon and nearly die, before the rest of the round table pitches in, and the girls find the dragons scroll and impulsively burn it.. which destorys it. So the day’s saved, and Arthur apologizes to everyone and decides to give the boys proper combat training as thanks. Also we get a really funny bit with Merlin, who throws the phone into the fire.. and much like the dragon, apparenlty it was tied to the employee who activated it because he suddenly and horrifcly burns up. PFFT. Dark but beautfiul

But of course what about the Sheldgoose subplot. Well I saved that for now to cover it all at once SO: Sheldgoose pokes around, being annoyed by a dart board of his face and what not and tries to find something to fish the spark out with... but Ari finds him and proves to be entirely useful, beating Sheldgoose down into the treasure chamber and getting inot a fight with him. Sheldgoose holds pace.. until Humphrey wakes up and with the odds against him they throw him out. Meanwhile Feldrake zaps a dog that was going to get peed on him but when sheldgoose is ejegted is surronded by dogs and clearly didn’t escape as he dosne’t want to taklk about why he smells to sheldgosoe. He is ABOUT to berate him for failure again.. but Sheldgoose points out he swiped something more important: The amulets. 

Proving once again Sheldgoose is the real power in the team. 

Final Thoughts on Thanks a Camelot:  This was a fun one. While finding out about John O Hurley was... unfortunte.. he does a decent job and the episodes a fun take on camelot with, as usual , really excellent gags, pacing and a hell of a fight scene with a dragon. Good stuff as usual

NEXT TIME; It all ends! It’s a visit to some yeti’s before one final dance betwen good and evil and one last set of episodes for this retropsective! Be ready! 

[overdrivels]

Deleted TWtaH Scenes

[Original opening sequence for chapter 1]

The kitchen once held no less than twenty cooks at a time back in its hay-day at peak hours, and at least four during downtimes.

Now, there was no need for that many cooks, however. There were less agents this time, less funds which meant less provisions, and a dejected look inside the nearest fridge yielded even less ingredients that can contribute to a coherent dish.

The only fitting solution was the age-old family-friendly Overwatch (and Blackwatch, of course) version of Russian roulette: the "Surprise Menu".

The small pot of translucent slop bubbled gently by its lonesome atop a gleaming stove meant for the meals of thirty agents of varying tastes.

A ‘ping’ notified you that an order was placed. A quick glance at the name (Agent McCree) already had your hands grabbing for cabinet doors and bowls.

McCree always ordered from the regular menu, even when it contained things that he would leave untouched (like the octopus salad four days ago) or when it would have nothing he liked to eat (he leaves everything half eaten those days, except the bread—he usually asks for seconds regardless of the type).

The previous Commander Gabriel Reyes had forced him to choke down anything that was being served on the "Surprise Menu" that day for being a little shit. Jesse McCree can now eat anything, but the grimace on his face made it clear he would rather not.

Soldier 76’s ratio of “Surprise Menu” to “regular menu” was fairly even. He would take the tray and disappear for several short minutes before returning the tray, completely devoid of any traces of food. You were never sure if he ate all of it or if he has just eaten a little and chucked the rest, though a check of the base's garbage disposals just made you then wonder if he actually flushed the food down a toilet somewhere.

"Thanks, it was good," he would say when returning his tray. Only ever compliments. "Better than sewer rats," he had once said. Though, he did once admit the chicken was too spicy in one of your dishes.

D.Va bristled at the suggestion and demanded for more spice immediately after.

You endeavored to warn 76 of spicy dishes on the Surprise Menu and to find ways of adding more flavor to those of D.Va's.

The plastic tray echoed a finality against the window counter that bounced off the far away kitchen walls and rung in your ears.

You flip through the worn list hanging by the refrigerator nearest you.

Foods must be similar in portion.

Foods must be similar in consistency.

Foods of different color cannot be next to each other.

Foods of different temperatures cannot be next to each other—

You didn't even hear the doors to the cafeteria swing open.

Favorites (at least one for every meal):

Curry with soft beans (ABSOLUTELY no hard solids, no half-cooked beans. Chili is not acceptable substitute!!) Potatoes (plain) Extra short grain rice (extra water) Basmati rice (normal water)

**When cooking rice, wash four times (taste is noticeable otherwise)

A ‘ding’ of the overhead monitor alerted you that someone had placed an order.

Zenyatta did not eat, and Genji's limit was a cup of tea half the size of his fist and a sweet, but they enjoyed sitting near the kitchen window to speak with flashes of your hands and the clinking dishes set in front of them, but never for them.

[Deleted scene of Chef fighting back against Talon]

The video plays.

A team of six sweeps through the cafeteria, and immediately, he sees the issue which has the team swarming the kitchen door and the service window.

The lights were on.

Even though he knows of your fate, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of fear grasping at his chest. They split up into two teams. One checks the window–they signal to the other team around the corner, and they signal back, guns at the ready.

He can see them count down with each wave of their hand.

One.

Two.

Three–

Hanzo expected that when it happened, you’d walk out daintily, the same way you put down a tray noiselessly, the same way your fingers touch the marble service window, the same way you touch your fingertips together when in thought, the same way you gesture–all soft flourishes and curling fingers.

But no.

You stride out through the double doors like a storm, head ducked down to avoid any deviant bullets, armed with only a large soup ladle made to handle a meal fit for five and a deep furrow in your brow with a scowl to match.

And then you begin to swing. Not wildly, but small, precise sweeps of little circles and sharp flicks of the wrist that cleanly disarm the shocked Talon operatives before slamming the underside of their chins. Even he has to give a sympathetic wince when their teeth clack together, or even worse, when they don’t.

Up close, he can see you still wear your chef’s uniform, all white and emblazoned with the Overwatch logo right on the sleeves of your upper arms.

You only had three of them; the other three take their shots through the window.

He sees you reach back with your free hand inside the doors, and immediately, a metal door comes slamming down behind the window. The Talon operatives jerk back, lest they get their arms caught.

He’d never admit it, but he swears that his hair has just become a bit greyer after watching the surveillance video.

[Deleted scene of McCree’s interview with Head Chef Richard v1]

The meal is delectable, but he doesn't taste it. Countless experiences with chasing spirits and tobacco did not come without a price.

Even so, he makes a show picking at his food with enthusiasm. Just enough to show interest but not overly flatter and be taken for a fool.

[Filler]

“Cœur d’Artichaut.” The man flips the card elegantly between his long, thick fingers. “A leaf for everyone. A bit of love for everyone. Sounds good, no? Everyone deserves a bit of love."

He then holds the card still and places a gentle kiss on it, letting it cover his lips as he murmurs, "But what that means is to give and give and give until you’ve nothing left.”

The man takes a moment to pull out a pack of cigarettes and lights himself one, silently offering one to the disguised McCree. Not one to turn down such an offer, McCree takes one for himself, leaning into the flame when the chef holds the lighter to him, his dark hand cupping around the flame and McCree’s face. It’s an oddly intimate gesture that he can't be sure isn't because he's being polite. McCree just hopes the heat doesn’t affect the hardlight contours of his disguise.

A plume of smoke gushes from the chef’s mouth. The grey wisps caress his sharp cheekbones and winds itself around his head, allowing only his lighter eyes to shine through. It reminds McCree of a mythical creature.

"It iz a chef’s responsibility to take care of their customers. Cook ze best food for them. Love them with all our being. We chefs exist for them.” A bitter quirk of his lips accompanies the change in his tone. “We die for them. Their bodies are built on the meals we make, and so we must give as much as we can to help our customers face another day. This, of course, includes love."

"I see ‘love’ is a running theme with this restaurant. Could you tell me what you mean by ‘love’?" McCree raises his tablet and pen.

Just when he’s about to interrupt the silence with another inquiry, Richard takes another drag of his cigarette and stares out into the distance.

"Love,” he begins. “No greater form of love than to nourish another's body and soul. It can be as simple as a prayer or as complicated as picking out ingredients and cooking them in a way that is appropriate for that customer and that one customer only. There are many ways to love and show love. But to give and give and give love but not receive, even the greatest of lakes will run out. Love is an ingredient. Love,” he stresses with a wave of his hand, “iz not infinite."

"But love isn't an ingredient you can put on food, is it, sir?"

The chef's eyes slide over, fixing itself onto McCree's face for a moment, so piercing that he's sure he can see through the disguise. It sends shivers up and down his spine. He’s being measured, judged, like a fish on the chopping block.Mercifully, Richard looks away, letting the smoke rise out from between his teeth. Something like a laugh makes the smoke stutter.

"It is the food. It is the effort. The thought.”

“And so you plan on carrying on the ideals of the previous CEO?”

Richard barks a laugh.

“Of course not. That foolish, naiive child."

“Could you explain?”

“Mm. A naive, desperate people-pleaser. That sort of love means little. People like that ought to have more self-respect.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a chef doing their best, is there?”

Richard waves his hand dismissively. “Of course there isn’t. But doing one’s best to satisfy their customer’s paletes is different from being a doormat.”

[Filler]

"That child does not understand that love can flow in many directions."

[Filler]

"I am here to restore the balance and clean up ze mess my...protégé...has made."

"Hm. So long as my protégé remains a child, then this toy will remain in my possession."

[Filler]

"Even chefs must eat."

[Filler]

"Do parents not give their lives for their children? It iz an obvious conclusion."

Protests and bitter memories that illustrate the contrary almost make it out of McCree's mouth. Instead he swallows them down and replaces them with a, "Of course. There's no parent who wouldn't."

No other lie has ever burned his tongue so.

[Filler]

“I hope this interview has been…enlightening…" There's something about the way that word is said that puts his nerves on edge.

"Oh, it has. Thanks very much for your time."

Richard scoffs, snuffing out the last of his cigarette against the heel of his hand. Tough son of a bitch. No wonder he and Reyes got along so well. The butt makes its way into a pocket instead of on the ground and Chef Richard opens the back door.

Over his shoulder, he calls, "Please do come again in the future. I look forward to reading your article. As thanks, we will have...surprise meatloaf waiting.”

McCree’s shoulders draw back tight and he fights every instinct to not stiffen and turn around. Instead, he keeps walking, a wry and defeated smile on his face.

“Oh, and tell that child that one should not preach about love if without having experienced it in full."

The smugness could not be any less evident, and the door slams shut, allowing the threat to linger in McCree's ears.

Sonnavabitch.

[Deleted scene of McCree’s interview with Head Chef Richard v2]

He’ll have to evaluate their true value, but decades-old wine definitely has buyers and he thinks he may know one or two. It’s not gentlemanly to let a favor like this go unpaid, and he’s already got a few ideas on how to do it.

And that’s how he finds himself here, sitting in the very back of Cœur d’Artichaut, bathed in the afternoon sun with his laptop, pouring a tiny pitcher of espresso into his coffee. He never understood fancy places and their need for so much extra silverware and fine china when the food he’s eating is the size of a well-used soap bar.

At least it tastes better than one.

Glazing across the restaurant, he sees the person he’s supposed to thank, still talking to the General Manager, Argus.

With half the cup in his stomach, he puts his hands to keys and types.

‘Chef Richard Sauveterre, a chef of renown fame whose name is given reverence, not in written word, but through the mouths of those he has fed,’ the first few lines of his draft reads.

‘The very definition of tall, dark, and handsome, made more distinguished by thick cornrows that trace the sides of his skull like a crown, the remainder cascading down in a neat waterfall down his neck. He is King Midas in a chamber of heat, steel, and raw ingredients that he spins into award winning meals capable of turning the stoniest of hearts into gold.

‘Now the CEO of acclaimed charity restaurant, Cœur d’Artichaut. The heart of an artichoke, a leaf for everyone, is their motto.’

McCree pauses for a moment, licking at the scab on his lip, searching for the next words and filling himself with another deep sip of coffee when he can’t find them.

“Pardon the wait, monsieur Morricone.”

“Not at all, Chef.” McCree gets up from his chair and extends his hand. “I’m just glad you made time in your busy schedule for me.”

“Likewise.”

McCree was bracing for it, but the weight behind the chef’s handshake still catches him off-guard. It’s just one strong up-down motion with a firmness that softens as they let go, but it’s that immediate contact, that sheer presence that puts him off-kilter and reminds him that this man is not only a cook but also a world champion fencer who could give some of the lower and mid-tier members of Blackwatch a run for their money in terms of reflexes and sharp wit. It is not only his hands, but Chef Richard makes sure to lock eyes with him, pinning him down. While Gabe would look for weaknesses to be exploited, Chef Richard is looking for gaps to be filled.

At least Richard doesn’t greet him the way he greets Reyes: with more kisses on each cheek than should be necessary. Though he may have to attribute that distance to his current disguise.

McCree begins his usual spiel: who he supposedly is (Joel Morricone, freelance writer, likes long walks on the beach and freshly roasted coffee), why he’s writing this (following up on a previous article he wrote about the restaurant ousting their CEO), and a few general compliments to loosen up his interviewee.

In the midst of all that, Argus brings over Richard’s coffee and replaces McCree’s. Her movements are quiet and unobtrusive, befitting of a high class restaurant like this. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she’s forgiven him for having written an article about them firing their CEO, but he knows better. She definitely debated turning him away at the door when he tried to come in ten minutes ago.

In return, Richard gives a brief summary of who he is and his accomplishments, factually and without embellishments as though he were talking about someone else. The names of awards and institutions he gives are fancy and long and would probably be more impressive if McCree actually knew them, but all he can do is nod and ask probing questions that makes him sound like he actually knows more than he does.

If McCree didn’t know his history any better, he would have missed that the man glossed over the fact he led Overwatch’s kitchens for a good portion of its existence.

Past the initial niceties, McCree begins digging into the real reason for his interview.

“Prior to this position, do you mind telling me what you were doing and why did you come here instead?”

“I came because I saw some article about a former employee of mine leaving behind unfinished business.”

“And where did you come from?”

“My mother’s womb, where else?” he says dryly, and McCree damn near types that down.

“I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about it.”

Richard smiles. “No.”

“O--kay. Let me remind you that this interview is confidential and you will be the first to review the contents before public—”

“I am aware.” Then he pauses as if reconsidering, his smile growing wider with a glint in his eye that makes McCree want to squirm in his chair. “If you must know, I was anchored.”

“Anchored?”

He doesn’t elaborate any further and McCree’s brain is working overtime trying to decipher his words and not let it show on his face.

Anchored. Tied down somewhere. Somewhere that you nor anyone else have been able to reach. McCree goes through all the iterations of what that could mean and he lands on either ‘prison’ or ‘out so far in the boonies that technology couldn’t reach him’. Either one is possible with this man.

“Right, next question.” He clears his throat. “Now that you’re here as the new CEO of Cœur d’Artichaut, what is going to be your strategy for the restaurant going forward and your current impressions of things so far?”

Richard’s eyes flit once between McCree’s disguised face and his own cup of coffee. There is a semblance of bitter fondness that lingers in the corner of his lips that is quickly covered by the rim of his cup. For the first time since this interview started, his demeanor shifts. McCree can’t explain it, but it feels like he’s no longer talking to Richard, a professional chef, but Richard, a person.

“Avoir un cœur d’artichaut.”

“Pardon?”

“‘I have the heart of an artichoke’. I love everyone who eats my meals, for everyone who has eaten my meals has a piece of my heart.” He sips at his coffee for a moment too long, . “This restaurant’s motto, ‘cœur d'artichaut, une feuille pour tout le monde’, iz something I had said a lot in the past.”

“So the restaurant’s namesake is from you?”

“The saying is not mine alone, but that seems to be so.” There’s a bitter twist to his lips like he wished it weren’t. “As for the direction of the restaurant, a lot of effort has been put already and I will not change what does not need changing.”

“Have you had a chance to speak with the previous CEO during the transition?”

“No.”

“And is there anything you’d like to say, any message you’d like to convey?”

“Yes. ‘Do it your own way.’”

“That’s it?”

“Did you expect a heartwarming speech?”

“Well, I was expecting something a little more personal?”

“Personal things should be told to the person in question, yes? And not to a...” Richard looks him up and down, real slow and deliberate. A shiver runs through McCree’s spine--the look would make a lesser person shrink in their seats and the way he says his next word would evaporate them from existence. “...mere reporter?”

McCree manages a grin. He’s seen scarier. “You’re right, you’re right. So if you don’t plan on changing the restaurant or giving any words, any menu changes?”

“I’d take away those awful pancakes,” he exclaims with a toothy grin and a flap of his hand, and McCree can’t tell if that’s supposed to be a joke. He doesn’t have to guess as Richard continues. “This menu is like a baby imitating their parents. Too many recipes similar to mine, not original enough.”

“Oh?” McCree puts his hands to his keyboard again. Food seems to be the way to get this man to open up. “I’ve seen raving reviews for ‘em—”

“Bah. Shitty taste buds. Zis thick piece o’ dough cannot be called, eh, pancake. Babies will choke and the elderly will die of malnutrition, zis--non, non, non. Zis is something only someone with bad tastes could like. But ze compote! ‘Ave you tried it? That is the only thing that makes it menu-worthy.”

The rambling critique of your menu goes on and on and Richard’s accent only gets thicker as his excitement pours out in unstoppable waves. As disparaging as though remarks are, McCree can’t help but get the sense that Richard right now is like a proud father, and he wonders how he can convey that to you in his article.

“A chef must always think of their customers. This menu is subpar, but I can feel the thoughtfulness in the service and selections.”

“Humans can eat most anything and survive, but it is a miserable existence. Gladden the senses, bring people together. Our dishes are made with love, but that love must come from somewhere. No chef can provide it all without having received any, and I will continue that mission here.”

[Filler]

“Please, stay for lunch. I do not wish to host a guest without showing proper hospitality.”

McCree suspects he’d probably be murdered if he does agree if not by Richard then by your own staff who already hold a grudge against him for having written an article about your forceful resignation without their consent. (A scoop is a scoop, and it made Richard come back to Gibraltar, so all’s well that ends well.)

“Thank you kindly for the offer, but I think you’ve shown me plenty.”

“It will be on the house.”

“Really, I’ll come by another day. Lots left to do.”

McCree pulls out a handle from his bag and presses a button, the rest of the cane materializing as he uses it to get up. Chef Richard is right there beside him with a hand hovering over his elbow.

[Filler]

“The next time you come we will have our specialty for you prepared: Surprise Meatloaf. Oh, and no need to be concerned; insurance will handle both the trucks you and your friends destroyed.”

McCree turns around but the door clicks shut behind him, the heavy wooden door now much more threatening than before.

He grins wildly to himself, dragging a hand through his hair.

That sonnavabitch.

[Deleted Scene of Reaper encountering Chef]

"Hello, dishwasher."

You turn and gasp at the stranger in the kitchen. “What the f—ATHE–!!”

The man explodes into a tidal wave of mist, and your mouth is covered with one large hand, claws digging to your face, the rest of your body held immobile by the darkness. “Now, now. No need for that, dishwasher.”

Dish–!!?

Paralyzing fear courses through you like lightning. You struggle to free yourself from the confines of...whatever it is that is holding you. You need to alert everyone. You need to get free. A threatening squeeze of your body--your spine pops a little and your recently healed injuries protest the rough treatment--and the bone mask in your face makes you pause for a moment.

“Now, be good; don’t call for help. I’m just here for a house visit.”

He removes his hand slowly.

“A house visit?" Your voice is shakier than you'd like it to be, brain buzzing with fright.

The mist detangles itself from your limbs cautiously, ready to strike and immobilize you against if you were to make a stray move. The blood rushes back into your head and brings spots to your eyes, drumming in your ears and making you more nauseated than you would've liked.

While you're busy trying to reorientate your body, the part-mist, part-man glides slowly around the kitchen, looking around. You can see him pause at some of the injuries the kitchen sustained during the Talon attack.

"Pity. That baker, Woo, really liked this countertop. She'd have a fit if she saw this."

Stunned, you stare at the wandering mist figure. "You know this kitchen, you know Patisserie Woo?"

He turns his mask toward you, and you’re sure that he’s raising an eyebrow behind it. The response, 'Obviously,' exudes from every fiber of his body. .

"Wait, who are you…?”

“Take a guess.”

You narrow your eyes, curling your fingers around your lips in thought. Someone who knows your past. Someone who knows you since you were a dishwasher. The chefs in this kitchen didn’t exactly have a high turnover, but there were very few people who knew you throughout your journey up the ranks. A man who first knew you as a dishwasher and called you such.

"Omar? Frederick? Johnny?"

“Try again.”

The fear and wariness ebbs away as the threat of death evaporates.

You search your memory. There's nothing familiar about this man except the way he stands, arms crossed and staring down at you. If you squint, you could almost overlap a memory with this figure.

“Come on, now. You picked up everything in this kitchen pretty quick. You can’t even figure this out for yourself?”

It hovers over the edge of your memory, just out of reach. Think, who is this person acting like? You’ve seen this behavior before.

The voice becomes soft, endearing almost as he utters, “Come on, dishwasher. You’re smarter than this.”

The image of a man, leaning against one of the counters during the lull between service, watching you attempt a new recipe with calculating eyes. You almost expect Head Chef Richard to appear behind him and slap him on this shoulder, watch them both get up and give each other a brotherly hug.

Your eyes widen.

"Gabriel.” Your mentor's voice and yours overlap in a breathy whisper. "Comman, commander Gabriel Reyes."

There's a hint of a smile in his voice when he says, “There we go, always knew you were a clever little thing, but I go by 'Reaper', now."

A slight flush goes through your cheeks, forcing out the icy sheen of fear that lingered in your veins. Even now, despite being on opposite teams, it is nice to be praised by the former Commander. However, your thoughts are quickly interrupted when you remember that this is Reaper--the Talon higher-up whom the recalled Overwatch were on the look-out for.

"What are you doing here?"

"House-visit," he repeats. You're not quite sure what that even means. "You're not supposed to be there."

Confused, you ask, "Be...where?"

Commander Reyes--Reaper--sweeps his arms out, gesturing at the kitchen in its entirety. "Here. You weren't supposed to be here that night."

Talon. The attack. You gasp, hand flying to your mouth and other protectively against your middle. Your wounds ache at the mention and quickened pulse.

“They were supposed to lure you out," he continues. "Leave the path open so that Talon can use the passage,” he rumbles.

"But I came back..."

"Right. Now I came to give you some information."

"Why would you do that...?"

He shrugs. "Because I'm feeling generous, maybe?"

A small laugh escapes the fingers covering your mouth. That can't possibly be true, but then again, he is--or was--Gabriel Reyes.

"You don’t trust me?"

It’s hard to trust someone who looks like the Grim Reaper come to life.

"I do," you say distantly. "Because I trust Command Reyes. And…” You hesitate. “And, you know, the Head Chef…he really loved you."

"That man loves everyone,” he scoffs. “Don’t bring him into this. Anyway," --he waves his hand around-- "don't you wonder about the attack that night?"

"Yes. Like how they were able to find the passage. It's only supposed to be known to kitchen personnel--wait." Something clicks in your head. "Were you the one who led everyone here?"

Reaper exhales something between a growl and a huff. "No, but someone in your little organization’s turned traitor."

The world got absorbed into a vortex, and you suddenly feel like you're free-falling or sinking or just dying. You can't breathe, you can't hear, couldn't think, not when reality decides to take an unexpected vacation.

You force out a shuddering laugh that sounds grating even to your own ears. "What do you mean 'turned traitor'? There's, there's no one who knows that would ever..."

You sink down to the ground, reality righting itself and your limbs feel like a ton of bricks or that you've been hit by them. It didn't really matter. You're trying to get your brain to function, to think. But the shock of his words were too much. You trust--trusted--everyone at your restaurant.

But...then...

“Turned traitor on you and your organization."

You clench your fists and bring them to your mouth.

"Reaper on premise! Reaper on premise! Repeat, Reaper is on the premise!"

"Took them long enough,” Reaper says at the exact same time you order, “Athena! Cancel the alert!"

"Command overridden. Reaper on premise!"

You give the man a weary look and he returns it with a shrug.

"Can I offer you a meal before you go?”

He laughs. “I don’t think you can make anything fast enough. Those Overwatch brats will be here soon."

You’re already walking to one of the refrigerators while he speaks and pull out a lunch box that was meant for Agent McCree before his mission, but given the circumstances, you’re sure it wouldn’t matter much. You can just make a new one anyway.

"Here you are."

He takes one look at the name written on it and tosses it right back at you.

"Give it to the brat. I don’t take sloppy seconds.”

You don’t even have a chance to retort before he disappears into a puff of smoke, slipping in beneath the door from which he came.

The kitchen doors burst open, Agent Soldier: 76 at the helm. And not a moment too soon.

“Kitchen personnel only!” you say, reflexively.

“Where’s Reaper?"

The other agents are spread out, alert, but some are looking around the place like it’s a tourist attraction. You cringe.

"I didn’t notice anyone here."

His sweeping gaze falls on you, and you’re suddenly an insect that’s been pinned, unable to escape from the piercing gaze of the ex-Overwatch Commander.

"Talk, Chef.” Nothing in his stance bodes any hint of compromise.

You know he doesn’t believe you. Not when you’re standing there with McCree’s lunch in your hands, wrapped and with no dishes around.

[Original scene of Hanzo’s first break-in into the kitchen]

He drops down from the top of the doors, only to freeze when you round the corner.

The words tumble out of his mouth ungracefully. “You’re a person.”

“Get out.”

The biting intensity in your voice is challenging enough for him to forget exactly who he is speaking to.

“I go where I wish.”

It’s the wrong answer.

He sees your eyes flash. In an instant, you’re trying to man-handle him out. Hands clumsily fisted into his gi, twisting, tugging, hips down and bearing weight against his bulk. However, you’re no match for a trained assassin. His reaction is too immediate. He has you on the ground, straddling your hips, pinning both your arms to your back with a hand, his other hand bracing himself on the floor by your head.

You try to buck him off relentlessly, like an animal.

“GET OUT!”

He grits his teeth, and presses tighter against your hands. Your breath comes out in a wheeze, and in the back of his mind, he’s aware that you will have trouble breathing.

“I do not take orders from a mere chef!” he barks.

You seize in his hold.

For a bone-chilling moment, he thinks he may have gone too far in his technique. His grip slackens just a margin.

You twist violently. He gets unseated just long enough for you to aim a knee up at him. He blocks it, and you are scrambling off the ground, hand reaching for something. Anything.

A ladle—you hold it out in front of you, the rounded end pointed squarely at his chest.

“Get. Out.”

He furrows his brow, aware that he’s all teeth and spitting fire. “Is that all you can say?”

“Agent Hanzo, you are forbidden here, get out.”

“What is the meaning of this?”

It’s Satya who stops the fight from the door, well within the boundaries of the rules set.

“Going into the kitchen is against Overwatch policy,” she recites coldly.

He can see you’re still ready to fight even though you are horrible outmatched. If he really wanted to, you’d be dead in an instant.

But those burning eyes promise him something more than a poorly attempted beatdown should he push the matter.

With a huff, he leaves.

She gives him a disapproving look, which he shakes off, angered.

[Filler]

The next day, he’s only mildly horrified to find two turrets stationed outside the kitchen doors, and is suddenly paranoid that there are many more waiting where they cannot be seen.

Hanzo does not know if it's you who ordered them or if the architect had done it off her own free will. (If he has to guess, you had explicitly requested it.)

The architect is extraordinarily good at her job--able to merely look at a building and understand the structure and blind spots even if she doesn’t fully appreciate the depth of this part of her skillset.

He could swear they’re all looking at him--glaring, even--ready to teach him a lesson for his transgressions.

It prickles at him.

[Alternate shopping scene with Chef and Hanzo]

The air, crisp with the snap of an impending winter, chills your lungs as you breath it in. It feels liberating.

The market is as busy as you remember it. Medication and a lengthy preparation time kept you sleeping past the normal time you'd be up and about, searching for the juiciest, freshest, and tastiest of produce. But at 0830, most of them were already snatched up by other more savvy people and chefs who have likely returned back to their kitchens to celebrate their prizes. Now only the more casual crowd remained, a steadily surging crowd.

Agent Hanzo stands right at your elbow, being one of the few agents who were awake when you were plotting to leave and caught you in the act of trying to disconnect yourself from the supplies that are theoretically keeping you healthy. (You’re fine. You can stand and walk with minimal trouble, so a few hours outside shouldn’t be an issue.)

“It is not safe by yourself. I shall accompany you,” he declared like it was a given.

You just didn't have the energy to fight him. After a few failed attempts to even stand up from your bed, you figured it wouldn't hurt to have him around in case your body decided to betray you. Athena, bless her, was blissfully complacent in letting you both go once you promised you would take it easy and forced Hanzo to take responsibility for protecting you (and that you'd both return by lunchtime; she threatened to send other agents after you both and you shudder to think of the commotion that would cause).

So far, Hanzo’s been attentive and pleasant company with an occasionally sharp comment that is more witty than barbed and a helpful hanp.

“Is there anything you'd like for lunch or dinner today?”

“Are you so unwell that you are now taking requests?” he asks incredulously, glancing at you briefly with a raised eyebrow before sweeping the crowd with his eyes.

“Very funny, Agent Hanzo. I’m serious.” You pick up a radish and look it over. You can make radish curry with this. Agent Symmetra would probably like that--something closer to home--or maybe radish salad, or garlic roasted radish with feta cheese, or maybe even grate it into a yogurt sauce. “Since you decided to accompany me, it's the least I could do.” You didn’t have much else you could give to him or do for him anyway.

He scoffs, a tiny smile at the corner of his mouth shows it’s not as condescending or mean as it sounds. “Anything you can make without dropping.”

“That was once! And you dropped way more things than I did.”

“The magnitude is greater,” Hanzo says flippantly, lifting the heavy bags he held so easily back into view. “Whatever you plan on making with this will be payment enough, I’m sure.”

Somehow, you couldn't help flush a little, unsure if it is meant to be genuine or teasing.

“If you don't decide soon, I'll make pepper soup.”

Hanzo just laughs, a light and actually jovial laugh that makes you flush a little brighter. It's a stupid threat especially against an Overwatch agent, but it’s all you have. But even so, he didn't have to make fun of you.

“I'm really going to do it, Agent Hanzo.”

He looks at you, a challenging gleam in his eyes that you've seen far too many times from other ill-fated agents who think the kitchens are a game. The look makes you burn just beneath your skin.

“Aren’t you supposed to reward me for my services?”

“And I will,” you say with a firm determination. “I promise.”

He has nothing to say to that, but the look on his face speaks for him: we shall see.

For the remainder of your shopping trip, Hanzo remains a quiet but intimidating presence behind you as you continued to pick out your produce. Hanzo still says nothing even after moving through several other booths where you take your time to buy and bargain for large and colorful peppers. He wordlessly takes your bags as you get them, refusing to return them to you even after you kick up a small fuss that quickly exhausts you.

[Filler]

A heavy weight in the middle of your back nearly makes you jump out of your skin and you clench your teeth to hold back the noise of pain that tries to crawl its way out of your throat.

At your ear, Hanzo mutters, “Come.”

“Is someone following us?”

He doesn’t answer, weaving his way in and out of the crowd with you held close to his side. Absentmindedly, you realize he’s quite warm amidst the autumn air. As sharp and callous as Hanzo is, he sure is comfortable. It’s presumptuous, but maybe you could ask him if you could take a nap against him when he has the time. Maybe for half an hour or so. Just once.

You’re startled out of your thoughts with a quick jostle. “Chef, hurry.”

“Okay, okay.”

“Stay beside me.”

“Do you see something?”

Again, he doesn’t answer.

You can see him scanning the area as though seeking a route. The number of people have thinned considerably, leaving you both exposed. Hanzo keeps you by the walls of what buildings are around, but those are quickly becoming sparse, too. There’s a constant flex in his jaw and it’s clear to see he’s a little agitated.

“Oh!”

You reach for one of his hands--it’s also very warm and very large--and begin to pull with what strength you had even as he tries to snatch it back. You both need to stay together and this is the best way to ensure it even though you’re very sure he can keep up against your injured self.

“Wh—”

“This way.”

You know Gibraltar better. You know its secrets and its truths and exactly how to lose people here. Hanzo, perhaps knowing this, follows obediently after you--he has no choice, you have his hand.

The bags are definitely slowing you both down and a small ache begins to settle around your stomach and sides--the pain medication must be reaching its end, but you push forward through small alleyways that barely fit the both of you until you both made it into the Siege Tunnels where you both took turn after turn into the winding dimness.

“We...we should be safe here,” you huff.

He nods and says nothing, both of you listening, backs pressed against the chilly stone walls, listening for anything beside the echoes of the whispering wind or cries of the many macaques that call these tunnels their stomping ground.

The darkness makes it hard to see anything, but it only makes everything else just so much more apparent especially the proximity between yourself and your bodyguard for a day. You notice you still have his hand in a death grip but you refrain from saying anything: there’s no telling if the danger has passed yet and you didn’t want to risk making any more noise (and he hasn’t tried to pull away again after the first time). It’s embarrassing and downright childish, but you had to admit you felt just a little safer just having him beside you as a solid and warm presence.

You’ve worked alone for so long, it was nice to be in such close proximity with someone who is not looking to you for orders or putting the pressure of work on you. How many years has it been since you were free of expectations? When was the last time you stopped vying for the approval of others?

It must have been a long, long time. All of your actions had you wrung out and stressed, looking over your shoulder at every whisper and imagined gaze. Were the UN after you? Was the Head Chef there? Were your staff watching your every move and judging you? You didn’t ever feel certain even as you rose higher and higher in the world--it felt like each step toward what most people would consider to be an ‘accomplishment’, you became one step closer to uncertainty, trapped by silver walls and isolated from everyone else around you.

This impromptu trip was a good idea even if it made your muscles hurt. Agent Hanzo didn’t judge you, didn’t try to give unnecessary praise or respect, or treat you any lesser. He’s good company with a discerning eye and even better jabs. Maybe next time you decide to sneak out, you’ll tell him first.

Somehow, you realize you’ve closed your eyes as you were thinking. The cool stone at your back and the warmth at your side is intoxicatingly comforting, the shoulder beneath your head is a little hard—

“Oh! I’m so sor—” You bite your words back, forgetting momentarily you both were on the run, a chill running up and down your skin because what if--.

“It’s fine. I believe we are clear.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. “Great. We can take this tunnel straight back to the Watchpoint. It’s a bit of a walk, but I think it’ll be faster than going back outside.”

You push yourself off the wall with a grunt of effort. After running around so much and taking a break, your muscles refused to cooperate. Hanzo gives you a strong pull with the hand you have gripped tight.

Again, you flush with the realization. The danger has passed, there’s no reason to keep holding hands.

“Sorry, I didn’t really--I can let go, if you’d like? This must be stopping you from doing your job.”

A contemplative look crosses his face, but it’s difficult to tell in the dark. After a moment’s pause, he gives your hand an experimental squeeze and says, “No. We’ll stay like this. So you cannot get lost in the dark.”

There’s a hint of a wicked smirk in his voice that’s somewhat playful and again, a warmth blooms just underneath your skin; a mix of embarrassment and indignity.

“I can find my way around with my eyes closed!”

“Shall we try? I will not warn you of walls, just so you are aware.” Regardless, he walks with you, close to your side.

“I don’t want Athena to send a team after us, so next time!”

“Next time.” The way he says those words sounds like he’s testing them in his mouth. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, but you swear you can hear his smile. “Next time.”

[Deleted interrogation scene between Chef and others]

The facts were laid bare before him once more in the morning when Hanzo speaks to Winston, Soldier, McCree, and a holovideo of yourself and Ana.

It is almost like a trial, the image of your listless face, turned away from the monitor, sits on the central terminal of the meeting room for everyone to see and judge. It's the first time Hanzo had seen you since you were carried out of the Cellar by Soldier--the Cellar which has been opened up by order of Winston and interconnected with Athena's systems, yet the secrecy of it's entire contents remained mysterious by effort of the Junkers and the AI herself. It may be a small comfort to you to know that not everything was defiled, but he doesn't know just how much you knew about the state of your kitchen.

But today's meeting wasn't about that.

You were told to deliver the facts of what you've been doing and your dealings for Overwatch. You did so, slumped in your bed without care for appearances or the usual politeness that came with your service, answers flat and pointed. Normally, this type of disrespect and blatant disregard for manners would earn his ire, but instead, it makes him uneasy.

It is not the look of an injured person on the sliver of your face, but your whole body told the story of someone who has given up after a long, harrowing effort.

You confirmed that you owned a restaurant, the card of which sat on Hanzo's scant dresser. It explained the service, the food, the aesthetic. It seemed so painfully obvious that Hanzo wondered why he never saw the connection before.

When questioned about the previous head chef, you admitted you didn't know where he was. You should have set off for France, but you knew he wouldn't go there. Some personal issues that you never understood and no one wanted to question.

You distantly confessed the amounts you've given Overwatch, the methods for contacting donors, and the sloppy way you went about verifying them. Even sloppier were your attempts to make the transactions seem legitimate and the lengths you went through to protect Overwatch, the donors, and your customers from the potential fallout.

All throughout, you refused to look at them or give excuses, only clinical facts and simple 'yes' and 'no's.

"Anything else?" you ask wearily.

"No, we will let you know if we require further information. You have given us enough for now. Please get a good rest," Winston says.

Nodding at them, you lean back into your pillows, and let out a bone-rattling sigh. Mercifully, the screen turns off

There is a deafening silence that follows.

They have been given a lot of information to digest and Hanzo, long grown out of the habit of writing down thoughts during a meeting, finds himself wishing that he had if only to organize the chaos that you’ve thrusted upon them.

It is an incredible tale, regardless of the number of times he had to hear it. The amount of danger, sacrifice, and sheer naivety involved

"The donors can claim ignorance then."

"It was well planned." Even Ana sounds slightly impressed, toying with the string of her teabag. "If the auditors checked, only Chef would take the blame." A smirk comes over her face. "Ah, doesn't that sound familiar, hm, Jack?"

The man grumbles something unintelligible.

"What's that, Jack? I did not quite hear you."

"The restaurant workers are just as guilty. They are accomplices." Ana rolls her eyes at Soldier's obvious diversion but allows it to proceed by sipping on her drink.

“The way it’s set up, only Chef handles the finances. On paper, as far as the other two go, they can say they didn't know about the operation...”

[Filler]

It's not safe for them to continue sending the money especially not after they had their run-in with the auditors. It wouldn't take long for an investigation to find both the restaurant and Overwatch guilty of money-laundering.

What is the best thing to do?

Hanzo's brows furrows, painfully tight as he rummages through his mind for the correct answer.

He is not well-versed in Gibraltar law and even less so with financial laws involving a charity like yours.

"It's smarter this way."

"Though how they plan on covering the gap is beyond me. The timing is too convenient and matches the auditors' investigation too well."

"Wouldn't it be weirder for them to stop?"