#scanned at the highest res

[glo-shroom]

Hey guys. So, between bomb threats in dozens of polling locations across several swing states, burned ballot boxes, an uncounted number of absentee ballots being contested and rejected, voter purging, PA with thousands of mail in ballots that need to be re-scanned as well as Elon Musk literally paying PA citizens to vote, and the second highest record voter turnout in the past century but yet currently still 15 million less blue votes compared to the 2020 election (granted counting has not finished yet), there's been a lot of call for a recount and investigation, which I personally feel like is absolutely worth doing. So anyone who can, I direct you here to make your requests on this ASAP

edit: I'll keep my original text here but since some of this is already quickly becoming outdated and I'm now seeing much better posts than mine circulating, I'm turning off reblogs, here's a good post to check out

[m1d-45]

the scars, the wound

summary: heizou has two important skills: his intuition and his martial arts. he prefers not to use the latter when working on cases, but what happens when the first fails him?

word count: ~2k

-> warnings: mention/implication of violence near the end.. minor spoilers for heizou lore?

-> gn reader (you/yours)

-> if this looks familiar, it’s a rewrite of this. i didn’t think i posted that draft because it was in need of so much improvement when i recently re-found it, and didn’t realize until after already posting this… whoops.

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr

< masterlist >

heizou’s intuition is wrong, for once. it’s impossibly unlikely, something he can’t remember happening before, but it’s the only logical explanation.

he’s walking through ritou, taking a minor detour along the beach. why, he’s not certain, but some string in his stomach insisted he went. and so, following his intuition, he did.

at first, it’s sand. as all beaches are. he finds himself scanning the shore for anything strange, kicking at a few odd looking rocks. he even checks a few times with elemental sight, but all he gets are the faint wisps of hydro lingering on the sand. not that that meant much—his elemental affinity was never the highest, kazuha was far more reliable for this sort of thing—but normally he could at least gather a general idea of what his mind was trying to tell him… but not this time.

no, when he saw you sitting in the sand, it was the last thing he could have expected.

he stops, squinting a bit. the sky is darkening, approaching dusk, and he was meant to be going to a meeting with thoma. to bother a random civilian and make himself late wasn’t ideal, but to scare you off if you were a criminal could possibly be worse. so, he approaches quietly, noting the way you turned as he did.

and then he recognizes you, all at once. your face was reflected in the posters plastered all over the city, in word-of-mouth descriptions from other officers—you’re the one the whole world’s been looking for. your skin is dirty and your clothes could certainly use a few hours with a needle and thread, and paper doesn’t quite capture the blank look in your eyes as well.

still, he crouches down with a wave, crossing his arms on his knees. “hey there! detective heizou of the tenry-“

“i know you.”

your voice sends a chill down his spine. it pulls at something deep in his core, his soul screaming that you are friend, not foe. briefly, he wonders why he stopped here at all, and then shock hits him like a punch to the gut.

for the first time in a long time, his instincts were wrong.

wrong, because you’re a fugitive.

his smile turns strained, unable to shake the feeling that he’s doing something wrong despite knowing he’s within full legal right. his skin prickles, and he digs his nails into his arm guards to keep steady. “do you? gotta say, i can’t blame you. my name is flung around quite a lot.”

you’re tense but not running. you know him, you know who he is, so…

blank eyes peer at him from under the overgrown shags of your hair, half-lidded and tired. his mind constructs a metaphor without his asking, as if attempting to make sense of something far more complex than you; jewelry, rusted and ancient, luster long lost across the years.

he almost feels sympathetic, but he’s not sure why. he should hate you. you fly in the face of everything he stood for—truth, justice, his creator—but he can’t find the will to do anything to arrest you. he knows he could apprehend you in an instant, between his skill and your exhaustion, but he doesn’t. and he doesn’t know why.

it bothers him.

“so, what’re you doing on ritou? need any help getting a permit to the rest of the island?”

he tells himself he’s asking because doing that would force your hand, not because he wants to help. that’s ridiculous. when did he start thinking this way? has he caught a cold, by chance?

“no.”

“then surely there’s a more comfortable place to be than the beach?” what’s he doing? why does he care? who cared if sand plastered your skin, if you got sick from being outside? “tides get pretty high around here, it would do you good to find a place to rest.”

you look out to the sea, some of the tension leaving your body. it’s not relaxation, more like surrender. “i don’t have anywhere to go.”

his chest is beginning to feel oddly tight.

it’s like he’s seeing the stars themselves in your eyes despite the darkness and the fact that that’s not possible. there’s a small shimmer to them, the sun itself contained inside, a glow that shows when they flicker over him like you’re pulling out all of his secrets. he’s not sure why he wants to give them to you. “i’m sure you know that, though.”

he does, he knows, he was at the meeting with kujou sara and the rest of the police force. he was the one she pulled aside to personally ask he put his full attention on it—as if he hadn’t already the second she mentioned his god—and he’s heard of the stories from the mainland. he knows everything, he’s read over every single report he could get imported, and yet every word you say feels brand new. when you say ‘you’ it feels like you’re the first person to ever lay on him, and it’s scary that he doesn’t find that frightening. his mouth is dry, all of his normal quick retorts and easy replies falling out of his reach. he settles for a nod, and you look back to the sea.

you look dull, his mind says, pulling on all of his vocabulary to try and connect a sentence together that properly describes it. your entire form feels… fleeting? no, not that. impermanent, maybe, like fog. so dense from afar, yet vanishing once he gets close. you’re… everywhere, a mist lingering in the air, waiting for him to look away so you can take a solid form again.

are you a youkai looking for a bit of fun? perhaps he’s mistaken. maybe he’d guessed wrong, maybe you’d just stolen another’s face for a prank.

…that’s stupid. since when has that been one of his first explanations for something? no, something’s wrong- he has to get this- this spell off of him. now he remembers, the paper from the alchemist from mondstat, he remembers, he remembers-

he-

he remembers the soft smile on his father’s face, wiping the dirt from his knees. “you must be careful,” he says, careful not to irritate the scrapes with the cloth. “you have been blessed with this mind of yours, but you must be wise enough to use it properly.”

“i’m wise!” he insists, and his father laughs, reaching for the bandages at his side.

“you’re intuitive,” he corrects. “and every day i pray to our god that you to learn the difference.”

heizou tears his eyes away from you, pretending that the sand isn’t blurry.

you’re a fraud. he has to arrest you. you’re tricking the people, you’re impersonating the highest deity, the literal god of gods, youve fooled even his own mind, you have to be stopped. for the good of the world. for the good of the earth. for the hood of his god.

…so…

“why aren’t you trying to kill me yet?”

his heart both flares and breaks, hands twitching for both his cuffs and to hold you close. your voice is so rough, so cracked and tattered and filled with something similar enough to betrayal that it’s paralyzing.

he needs to arrest you.

(he needs to get you water.)

he has to bring you in so the shogun can kill you.

(he has to get you a room somewhere so you can rest. you look so tired.)

his mind is as blurred as his sight, confusion instead of tears muddling his thoughts.

what’s happening? why does his mind like (adore, want, need, worship) you so much, when he knows he has to take you in? he’s been given direct orders, he knows what he has to do, so why can’t he do it? when did he fall for such easy tricks? he’s shikanoin heizou, the most trusted detective of the tenryou commission, and he cannot be swayed by your words. he can’t afford to be.

(it’s not just your words. the air around you is so soft, so welcoming, inviting him to sit in the sand with you until it’s dawn again. he’s at ease in a way he hasn’t been in a long while, even despite the stress of the situation. he should, in reasonable circumstances, be stressed, but you’ve cleared his mind to a simple volley between two ideas: his loyalty to his god, and his newfound loyalty to you.)

he wants to tell you that he’d never want to hurt you. “i try to leave that to the higher-ups” is what he says instead.

you sign, running a shaking hand over your hair. it’s full of sand and salt and needs to be cut, badly. you take an equally unsteady breath, and when you speak you sound like you’re about to cry. “i don’t want to fight you, heizou.”

the way you say his name fills his chest with something hotter than fire and sweeter than honey, a supernova made into sugar and placed into the gap left by his heart.

the last of the sun shines off the water and outlines you in its glow, the only thought in his mind that of your beauty.

he licks his lips—they taste of salt—and forces words to come up. “i don’t want to fight you either.”

it’s the truth, and he hates that it is.

instead of saying anything else, you stand, and heizou scrambles to follow. he tells himself it’s because he needs to be ready to run after you. that’s it. that’s all. you take a step away and he is quick to match it, transfixed as you pick up a long wooden staff, akin to a walking stick. it’s taller than you are, and he’s not sure how he missed it laying beside you.

“you’ll lose your job if you don’t, detective.”

he might.

heizou blinks.

…he won’t.

no… he won’t.

facing you head on, the acceptance in your eyes is clearer, like you knew it would come to this. his hand drifts to his baton hesitantly, and sees your grip on the wood. it’s splintered, he notices, likely a piece of driftwood you found along the beach.

why is he waiting? why is he stalling?

he’s let this go on for too long already. he’s being ridiculous. this is wrong. it’s his job to take in criminals and he’s staring at one of the worst, so what is he hesitating for?

against his better judgement, he tightens his hands to fists. he’ll be gentle, he promises himself, but it doesn’t soothe the storm in his head. he‘ll be careful, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s still likely to hurt you. maybe by the end of it, if he’s clever with the use of his vision, you’d barely have a bruise. did you even know how to fight properly? you don’t seem all that confident in your weapon. at least that’ll make his job easier, right?

he’s stalling again.

heizou takes a breath. against his intuition, he takes the first swing.

[munsonluhvr]

THE TUTOR

pairing: virgin!eddie munson x virgin!reader. being the straight a+ student you are, you're asked to tutor the most difficult student at hawkins - Eddie Munson. word count: 3.6k. warnings: (18+) p in v, oral, fingering, body parts described, light cussing, probs misspellings.

“Y/n, come talk to me please,” Your teacher Mrs. Bennett asks, as you stand up from your desk. The bell had just rung, signaling that it was time to head to your next class. English was the class that just concluded, your favorite course for the semester. English came to you with ease, and you enjoyed to book you were reading so far. 

You walk up to Mrs. Bennett’s desk. “You wanted to speak to me?” 

Mrs. Bennett nods, taking her glasses off. “I’ve received another request for an English tutor to help… an older student.” You had been a peer tutor since your first year of high school, now entering your fourth year.

You cock your head to the side, “An older student?” 

Mrs. Bennett nods, “Yes; Eddie Munson.”

Your mouth slacks open, “You want me to tutor Eddie Munson? Hasn’t that been proven to be impossible?” You had heard from the small group of peer tutors that Eddie Munson had been proved to be a challenge, either showing up to tutor sessions smelling of weed or not showing up at all. 

Mrs. Bennett frowns, shaking her head. “Let’s be forgiving, y/n. Plus, all the students like you; your success rate is the highest of all the tutors. I thought you would be up for the…challenge.” 

You re-adjust your attitude, “Of course, Mrs. Bennett.” 

“Good,” Your teacher says, now smiling. “You should meet with him starting today, every day for the next couple of weeks. He really wants to graduate finally and a lot of his English grade rests on the final quiz.” 

You nod, listening closely. 

“-And here are the books his class is reading,” Mrs. Bennett says pushing a small stack of books towards you, “With tests quizzes to help further progress along.” 

“Great, I’ll start today,” You say, “Thank you, Mrs. Bennett.” 

Mrs. Bennett leans forward, “Goodluck, y/n.”

You back up from the desk, heading towards the door. On top of everything else you had going on; you didn’t need to be tutoring the Eddie Munson. 

You enter the hallway, dodging students that are rushing to their next class. You make your way to your next class, which was just down the hallway, thinking about your plan to help Eddie pass his last English class. Eddie was 20, failing to graduate two or three times, and he barely has the patience to pay attention. 

You make it to your next class, taking a deep breath in hopes to make it through the rest of the day. Which you did, your last two classes flying by quickly. Once your last class concludes, you made your way to the library in attempt to find out Eddie’s schedule and where to find him. 

When you push the door to the library open, you see Eddie standing at the desk. You hear the desk attendant say, “That’s her there,” and point to you. 

Eddie turns around, scanning you up and down. “Are you the poor soul who is going to attempt to help me pass my English class?” 

You nod, “That would, sadly, be me.” 

Eddie tucks his hands into his pockets, “The enthusiasm is overwhelming.” 

You shift the books that Eddie’s class in reading in your arms and you place them on the table that is nearby. “So, shall we start?” 

Eddie shrugs, coming over to the table and sorting through the pile of books you put down. You watch his nimble fingers, covered in big, metal rings, flip through the pages of the books, his shirt pulling up at the sleeves to reveal the tattoos of a cluster of black bats on his forearm. 

You had always heard rumors about Eddie Munson and his club, that were mostly started by the basketball team, and you always found him mysterious. You never believed that he was a freak like they called him, or that he was a devil worshiper. You knew that he lived in a rough neighborhood, the trailer park off of the highway, and that his uncle was his guardian. You always thought that those facts could impact the way a person acted. 

You are brought out of your thoughts when you notice Eddie waving his hand in front of your face. “Helloo, y/n?” 

“Sorry,” you say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Let’s start.” 

Eddie eyes you suspiciously, but sits down in a chair, kicking his feet up on the table. You roll your eyes, sitting down as well. You flip through the book that Eddie’s class was reading, remembering when you read the book a year prior. 

You begin your tutoring session, making connections between the reading and the discussion questions that were in the papers that Mrs. Bennett has given you. You feel Eddie’s eyes on you as he listens to you. You look over at him after a few minutes, “Are you even listening?” 

Eddie kicks his feet of the table, leaning forward onto the table, his face only a few inches from yours. “I’m listening.” 

You clench your jaw, backing up a few inches. You shake your head, starting to get frustrated, “Look, I’m not the one about to miss graduation for the third time. I’d suggest paying a little more attention.” 

Eddie smiles, amused by your attitude. “It’s a little hard when a girl as pretty as you is talking.” 

You roll your eyes, having heard about Eddie’s playful, flirty side. You had also heard that he was equally shy. “Eddie, seriously.” 

Eddie laughs, “I am being serious.”

You ignore him, continuing on with summarizing the book, writing down short notes for Eddie to refer to and study. You continue on like this for the next hour, the hallway quieting down as everyone has gone home. You decided it was best to end the tutoring session, Eddie’s attention starting to fade away. 

“See you tomorrow?” Eddie says, collecting the notes you had made for him. You nod, heading towards the library entrance. “Same time, same place.” 

You pushed the door open, and head out of the library. The hallway was significantly cooler then the library and you felt your cheeks blush when you thought about Eddie’s compliment. You shook it off making your way home. 

When you get home, your mom is waiting for you, bouncing your younger sibling on her hip. “Where have you been?” 

“I had a tutoring session; sorry I’m home late.” 

Your mother passed your baby sister to you as she stirred the pot that was boiling on the stove. “I just found out I have a meeting tomorrow at the same time you normally tutor so I need you to cancel so you can watch your sister.” 

You roll your eyes, strapping your sister into her highchair. “I can’t just cancel, mom.” 

Your mother sighs, looking over her shoulder at you. “I know you’ll figure just something out. Just be home right after school, okay?” 

You nod, leaving the kitchen to head up to your room. 

The next day of school went by quick, your mind occupied with solving your study location issue. After your fourth-class finishes, you step out into the hallway, joining the crowd of students. A few feet away, you see Eddie standing with his friends, seemingly his club members by their matching shirts, and you make your way towards them. 

Dustin, one of the boys standing around Eddie, nudges Eddie to alert him of your presence. Eddie turns around to greet you. “Y/n,” 

“Eddie,” you say, taking a peek at the couple of boys that stood behind him. They all stare at you with curiosity. “I need to switch where we’re meeting later. Can you come to my house instead of the library? I have to watch my sister for my mom.” Dustin’s mouth slacks slightly at the sound of you, a girl, inviting Eddie to your house. 

Eddie nods, his eyes scanning your face. “Yeah, that works. What your address?”

You rattle off your address, starting to back away. “Come around 4,” you say, hoping your mom would be gone by then. You weren’t sure what she’d think about inviting a boy over when she wasn’t there, even if it was just for a tutor session. 

The rest of the day blew by and before you knew it, you were standing in front of your mirror that stood on a stand next to your dresser. You toss your hair, leaning in close to inspect the lip gloss you just applied. You shake your head at yourself, catching yourself primping for Eddie. Downstair, you hear someone knock at the door. You glanced at your clock, seeing that it was half past four.  

You jog down your stairs, hoping the knock didn’t wake up your infant sister who you had just put down for a nap. You open the door and Eddie is leaning in the doorway. 

“Hey,” he says, stepping around you to enter your house. “Nice place.” 

“Thanks, now be quiet, I just put my sister down for a nap.”

“Sorry,” He whispers, readjusting his backpack on his shoulder.

“Follow me,” you say, guiding Eddie up the stairs. You lead him into your room, shutting the door behind you quietly.

“So, this is the princesses’ room,” Eddie says, taking a look around your room. He seats himself on your bed, picking up your stuffed bear that rested near your pillow. Eddie smiles, making the bear waves it’s hand at you. You roll your eyes, sitting next to him on your bed. “Hand me your books,” you say, putting your hand out. 

Eddie unzips his bag, pulling the books out. He hands them to you, your fingers brushing his. You pause as Eddie glances at you. Your faces are only a few inches apart, close enough to notice that his clothes smelled like cigarettes mixed with laundry detergent. Your breath hitches, and you cough to break the silence. Eddie blinks out of his trance, pulling out the notes you had made for him the day prior. “These were really helpful when I looked them over last night, thanks.” 

You nod, “Good; of course.”

Again, another instance of silence occurred, and you glance at Eddie to see he’s looking at your freshly glossed lips. “Eddie, are you ready?” Eddie jumps slightly, turning his head to his laps where his notebook lays. “Yup, ready.” 

You blush, wondering what Eddie was thinking while he looked at your lips. You begin to start your tutoring session for the next hour, Eddie actively paying attention. You felt like you and Eddie were making good strides and you felt confident enough to interrupt and initiate a snack break. 

“Do you want water, soda?” You ask Eddie, standing up from your bed. 

Eddie shrugs, “Whatever you have, I’ll have too.” 

You nod, moving to leave your room. You take a trip downstairs, grabbing two soda cans from the fridge. You run back up the stairs, taking the stairs by two, and enter your room again. Eddie stands at your dresser, picking up the small picture frames of you and your friends at the beach. He notices you walk in and moves back to your bed. You walk over to where he sits, on the foot of your bed, and hand him a soda can. Again, your fingers brush Eddie’s. 

You lift the tab, opening the drinking hole, and Eddie does the same. You take a sip, realizing how thirsty you are. Eddie leans back against your bed foot-frame, glancing at you. You lean back on your hands, creating extra distance between you and Eddie. 

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Eddie asks, boldly

You swallow your sip of soda hard, making eye contact with Eddie. “No; why do you ask?” 

“Because you don’t have any photos of guys, it’s just you and your friends,” Eddie says simply. 

You glance at your dresser full of picture frames, and then back to Eddie. “Yeah, no boyfriend.” 

Eddie continues to stare at you, and you squirm under his attention. 

You break the silence, “Do you have a girlfriend?” You feel foolish asking, but why couldn’t you ask too? 

Eddie scoffs, turning his attention away from you. “Like anyone would date a freak.” 

You frown, “That can’t be true. You’re a good-looking guy.” You blush when you realize what you’ve said. Eddie glances at you once again, a curious look on his face. 

“You think so?” Eddie says, leaning forward, closing the gap between you and him. His face is only a few inches from yours, sending the scent of his cigarettes and laundry detergent back to you. He placed his can of soda on the ground, right on your white shag rug. 

You nod, letting him invade your personal space. Suddenly, you feel the intense urge to let him truly invade your personal space, your attraction to him causing you to lean close to him. In an instant, your face was only an inch from his. You had very little experience with guys, and you assumed Eddie had no experience with girls, yet you felt confidence of an experienced women. You didn’t know where these feelings came from, but you wanted to explore them more. 

You push your lips into Eddie’s, and in an instant he responds to your gesture. Your lips move roughly with his, Eddie’s tongue slipping into your mouth. You sigh at the feeling, your stomach forming a knot in anticipation. Eddie pushes you back, your back laying on your bed. 

Eddie kicks his shoes off, climbing on top of you. You arrange your body in a way that allows him to nestle himself on top of you. Eddie cups your face with his ring covered hand, deepening the kiss. You feel his nerves showcasing themselves in his movements, each touch un-confident and inexperienced.

Eddie moves his hands down further from your face, never breaking contact with your lips, as he cups your breast over your shirt. Your body reacts intensely to his touch, your body craving him. You break the kiss with Eddie to lean up and lift your shirt up and off. Eddie’s eyes widen at the sight of your bra-covered chest, and you lay back on your bed, letting your fingers play with the bottom of Eddie’s t-shirt. 

Eddie gets the hint and lifts his shirt off. You reach out, cupping his face and guiding him into yours. You feel Eddie harden in his jeans as your almost bare chest presses against his. Your core aches for Eddie’s touch, every touch becoming more desperate. 

Eddie feels hunger for you too, his mind in autopilot. His fingers toy with the band of your jeans, his nimble fingers moving to unzip your pants. You help him by wiggling out of your pants, leaving yourself in just your bra and underwear. You thank yourself for picking out your decent underwear, so you didn’t embarrass yourself.

 You spread your legs open wider, Eddie settling himself between your thighs. Eddie moves a hand to let his hand grope you between your thighs. You moan softly, sending Eddie into a tizzy. Eddie pulls his big, chunky rings off, letting them drop to the floor. He pulls your panties to the side, letting his fingers plunge into you. 

You gasp, your hands clutching your sheets. Eddie breaks the kiss, your mouth agape as you breathe heavily. He peppers your neck in kisses, letting them trail to your chest and between your breasts. Eddie’s fingers move out of you in a rhythm, pressure beginning to build in your abdomen. Your hips jut up, expressing how you were experiencing pleasure from Eddie’s touch. 

You feel the urge to taunt Eddie, drawing him in to pull his pants off and pleasure you. You lean up again, un-clipping your bra. Your breasts fall out and Eddie is quick to move his kisses on your nipple. Eddie, takes your nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue across your bud. You place your hand into Eddie’s long, curly hair, pulling him further onto your chest. Eddie feels your desperation radiating off your skin, laced in every movement you make. He pulls away from you, standing up next to the bed to unzip his pants, leaving him in his boxers. 

You bite your lip at the sight of Eddie’s tent in his black boxers, and you forget that you’re essentially naked in front of a boy for the first time. Eddie climbs back onto the bed, kneeling below you. You part your legs to allow for more space on the bed. He kneels, moving your legs so they rest on his shoulders. He hooks his fingers into your panties, pulling them down your legs slowly while he makes eye-contact with you. He flicks your panties to the ground, leaving you completely naked. 

Eddie gazes at you for a moment, taking in the beautiful sight of your naked body. He moves to hover over your body, aligning himself with you again. His face dips down, his lips meeting yours once again, and you take the opportunity to hook your fingers into his boxers, pushing them down his thighs. He helps you, kicking them off, letting them fall to the floor. Eddie trails kisses from your lips to your neck and you take the initiative to look at Eddie’s cock. Your stomach clenches at the sight of it, its large size intimidating you. 

Eddie, nuzzles his face into your neck, leaning on his arm. “Can I?” 

You nod, spreading your legs open to let him in. Eddie lines himself up with you and you take a deep breath. With one swift push, Eddie enters you, his size demanding your sex to adjust to fit his size. You grab on to his bicep, squeezing it roughly as you react to the slight feeling of pain. 

Eddie starts out with slow thrusts, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him further into you. You moan softly, your eyes fluttering shut. Eddie sighs too, the feeling of you clenched around him sending shivers up his arms and down his torse. 

“Fuck, Eddie.” You say, your back arching. Your nipples graze his chest, and Eddie takes notice. His pace quickens, his movements a little rougher. 

Your fingertips graze his sides, his warm skin feeling hot against your cold, exposed skin. Eddie initiates another kiss with you, and you lean into it. Eddie’s strokes continue, sending pleasure up your body. Your head was spinning with thoughts but all you could think about is how your body fit perfectly with Eddie’s. 

“You feel so good, y/n,” Eddie mutters against your lips. 

Your skin flushes at Eddie’s comment, your thighs clenching around his waist. Eddie’s movements weren’t enough for you, your body craving more. You maneuver your foot between his and use it as leverage to move yourself on top of Eddie. Now, Eddie lays on his back, his face expressing shock from the whirlwind you sent him in. You sink down on the length of his cock and his eyes squeeze shut in pleasure. 

You begin to rock back and forth, like you had seen in the movies, and knew you were doing it right by the way Eddie reacted to your movements. You grasp Eddie’s hands, moving them to your waist. Eddie’s grasp tightens around your hip bones, helping you set the tempo. 

Eddie moans loudly, one of his hands moving to your backside. Eddie sits up, colliding his lips with yours. “I’m close,” Eddie says, between kisses. 

You sigh, wishing the moment could go on forever. You lean back, creating inches of distance between you and Eddie. You let your fingertips graze his cheek, taking in his features. He was truly a beautiful person.

You push him back, moving from your position on his cock. Eddie frowns, missing the feeling of you clenched around him. You back up, taking his length into your hand. Eddie shivers under your touch, watching you take his member into your mouth. His fingers intertwine in your hair, pushing you down further. You bob your head, discovering your love the action of giving head. 

Quicker than you wished, Eddie comes in the back of your throat, his hip jutting up to push his entire self down your throat. Now, you missed the feeling of him moving in and out of you, your mind full of filthy things you wanted to try. 

You stand up, feeling awkward and exposed all of a sudden. You pick your panties off the ground, stepping into them, and put your t-shirt on over your head, leaving your bra on the floor. You toss Eddie’s underwear to him, and he catches them, his eyes lingering on you. 

“So..” Eddie says, sitting up and swinging his legs to the side of your bed. 

You look up at him, a small smile on your lips, and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You don’t know what to say, not knowing how the moment got so out of hand. You were studying, drinking soda, and then before you knew it you were naked, Eddie deep inside of you. 

“We should probably continue studying tomorrow.” You say, leaning against your dresser. 

Eddie frowns, cocking his head at you. Your mind is in a flutter, your eyes gazing at Eddie’s barely clothed body. “You’re really going to graze over what just happened?” 

Your eyes shift, going from Eddie’s eyes to the floor. “I don’t really know what happened, honestly.” 

Eddie laughs, once again amused by you. “I think we should do it again; after I take you out on a date of course.” 

Your eyes snap to his, your eyebrows raised. “A date?” 

Eddie shrugs, picking his rings off the floor. “Would you be interested?” 

You didn’t even have to think about it. You were intrigued by Eddie, his mysterious and complex persona pulling you in. You also didn’t mind that he had just performed perfectly in bed. 

“I’d love to.” 

[rodentbehaviour-on-main]

2024 Election

Click the first tab (president) then input “Election Security” on the top. This form will ask for personal information. If you don’t feel comfortable using your own, do so with a partner’s, parents, grandparents, etc.

Even if you think this amounts to nothing, we can still band together to try.

Default format below if you don’t have the energy to write anything. I included a section in mine about the presidential immunity ruling the Supreme Court made so they can at least try to pass more protections.

I, as a voting citizen of America, urge you to ask for a recount of the 2024 election.

Between bomb threats in dozens of polling locations across several swing states, burned ballot boxes, an uncounted number of absentee ballots being contested and rejected, voter purging, PA with thousands of mail in ballots that need to be re-scanned as well as Elon Musk literally paying PA citizens to vote, and the second highest record voter turnout in the past century with such a thin percentage between candidates, there's been a lot of call for a recount and investigation, which I personally feel like is absolutely worth doing.

Trump called for a recount in 2020. Please do the same.

If Trump called a recount, so can we!

Links Below

https://www.centredaily.com/news/politics-government/election/article295130864.html

https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/2024/11/06/voter-turnout-2024-by-state/

[vinestaffery]

hello! May I request a Valk x reader fluff scenario? probs just either of them having a rough day and having a cuddle session with the other :D

Hello!!! The first start of the scene is inspired off of Mayans MC Grocery Store Scene, from Season 4! I felt like it's a great way I feel about umm people that are overall just really mean and such or just rude. Hope this is good enough!! I gotta sleep RIGHT after this one too, so I'm happy to be able to pump this out!!! Enjoy!!! ALSO I JUST REALIZED I MISREAD YOUR REQUEST AND GAVE YOU A ONESHOT. I AM SO SORRY.

VALK X READER FLUFF

Today was not the day for you. Working 9 hours per day, being yelled at by customers endlessly for just trying to scan their food in. It was getting tiring than ever. “Next,” you said in a deaf-tone. Another demon, specifically one that looks overall pissed.

“Make this quick! I need to get somewhere.” You had more of enough proof with your facial expression you did not give much of a fuck. With how they were speaking, how they were blabbing to whoever on the phone. You just wanted out of here.

Scanning endlessly of the foods, you listened quietly to the sound of the radio playing. The supermarket was not the greatest place to get money or to find peace, but it surely made you become more religious than ever, praying to the SFoTH that you make it out alive in the next few hours.

People started lining up, growing more anxious by the second as they waited slowly for the lady you were serving to quit blabbing. It was until she interrupted you mid-packing her food. “Don’t forget to put a double-bag, paper bags have always been useless.” I mean, you could understand her at that point. 

Paper bags were useless, especially with how easily breakable they were. It was the first thing you let slide in your head. Placing more food together, adding up as you waited patiently and sorted each carefully. “Don’t put chemicals in food! Are you insane?” That pulled a nerve.

Re-sorting and plucking everything out of the bag, you didn’t show any sign of hesitation or resistence. You just carried on, customers always know best. Their highest priority is this stupid supermarket food-chain. As you resorted, you placed more food down below.

“Is this your first day? Are you kidding me? Everyone knows you don’t put the weak food at the bottom of the bag. I mean, c’mon!” The demon let out a snort, snickering.

Your fingers wrapped around the food, pulling one out and putting the heaviest sense of shopping load into the bag. You didn’t make any sound, your eyes focused on each food taken in hand. “Sorry, this stupid clerk just won’t do the shopping right. I know, they seriously need to learn…”

— 🌕  AT NIGHT .

You walked in through the door of the shared department, shaky breaths as you followed the small light-source coming from the hallway. You could hear him, how your body yearned for him once more. 

The sound of his singing, it made you feel every tight nerve in your body collapse. Your hesitant footsteps as the bits of food stuck your hair together. You couldn’t help but sniffle, a tear dropping down your cheek from the overwhelming stress in your head. It was ripping at your scalp.

“My sunshine? Is that you?” That familiar voice.

“Here…” You let out a cracked voice as you saw that yellow-horned demon once more. Valk. The love of your life ever since that first day meeting one another accidentally on the street. It was hilarious when you found out he was the all-time star on the radio. 

“Oh, my sunshine! I might cookies, if you’d like–” His head turned to face you, only to stop in his place as his voice slowly pitched down – “to have some together…” You could hear that concern in his voice. 

“...” Silence is all that could be heard. 

“I had a bad day, today,” You could only pipe up about it, as you fell to tears. It was like all chains of your body that dug deep into your soft skin had finally let you go. It was an agonising walk home, and it was even harder to get up the apartment stairs. 

Valk knew what to do, as he walked closer as he held you. You immediately collapsed in his arms. “Sunshine, sunshine. I’m here, oh my poor light,” his words were like angels from the heavens, speaking their godly verses.

“I got fired from my job,” You laughed into his shoulder, egg remnants slowly pouring onto his t-shirt. He let out a sigh. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.” Keeping you close, you both trudged to the bathroom, to where he helped you get clean. It wasn’t too long until you both were cuddling on the couch.

“So you got fired? For what?” Valk piped up, a blanket draped across you as his arm extended out behind your neck. The television flickered on movie scenes that never seemed to catch your interest. “I accidentally destroyed a person’s shopping, but they deserved it. They wouldn’t shut up.” 

Valk couldn’t tell if he should be disappointed, but he didn’t want to continue the worst case-scenario forever. “Well, then that’s okay. Maybe they did deserve it. Just hope you can get another job again.” Valk was always the one to look to the bright sides, while you struggle with both pros and cons on existing life. “I hope so,” you meekly shuddered.

His warmth was inviting, it was nights and days like these where you wish to rest in his lap all the time. He didn’t mean, you being there with him made him even happier. As your eyes struggled to keep open, now clean and close to him, he couldn’t help but laugh. 

Caressing your cheek, he kissed your forehead. “Sleep well, sunshine.”

[su-itca-se]

Dear Brother (Oniisama e…) LaserDisc scans and machine translations

These past few years I have fallen in love with the work of director Osamu Dezaki. Alongside Tomorrow’s Joe (Ashita no Joe), I hold Dear Brother in the highest regard.

It was a 1991 anime based on Riyoko Ikeda’s 1974 manga. You should watch the anime. It’s on Tubi for free. But really, just trust me. Buy the Blu-Ray from Discotek.

This anime came and went. There isn’t any merchandise besides some phone cards. Decaying fan sites and discourse is out there, but it’s a bit of a hunt.

Some time ago I saw a fan letter written by Hideaki Anno, apparently from the LaserDisc releases. From what I could tell, the LaserDisc packaging featured a treasure trove of notes from the staff that I just had to read. But I couldn’t find them!

If you’re not aware, LaserDiscs are one step above burnable trash in Japan — often on sale for 200 yen or less in heavy boxes shoved into the corner of second-hand anime stores. So I bought all five volumes of the 1993 Dear Brother LaserDisc release, was thrilled to notice unique letters from staff and industry luminaries in the interiors, and I scanned everything! And machine translated them.

I hope this (long, comprehensive) post brings fans of Dear Brother the same pleasure it brought me to compose it!

Note: I cannot read Japanese. I’ve used Google Lens for OCR, and GPT-4 for translation. My scans are good (and you can get them on Archive.org in high res) but these translations are not archive-quality and should not be depended on without verification. I’ve done my best to make corrections and have attempted to wrangle the correct tone and meaning out of the AI, but they’re essentially just for fun. Corrections of the most egregious stuff would be welcomed, email me: suitcase@soaringrabbit.com.

Volume One

Each disc is themed after a character and colour. The back is peppered with screencaps and notable quotes (“Anata wa dare?” says little Nanako) as well as series credits. The two notable parts to translate are the disc synopsis, and the subheading (seen here in pink on the far left.) Maybe it’s a pull quote? Not really. So I called it a subheading.

Volume One Subheading

A forbidden cult anime masterpiece born of satellite broadcasting is finally available on LD.

Volume One Synopsis

Private Seiran Academy. A story of beautiful love and deep hatred unfolds at this prestigious all-girls high school steeped in tradition. The protagonist, Nanako Misonoo, who is thrilled to enroll in the high school division of her dream academy, encounters three stunning individuals: Miya-sama, Sanjust-sama, and Sho no Kimi. She also gets introduced to the glamorous world of Seiran Sorority, a society that only the chosen few are allowed to join. As a freshman granted unexpected membership in the Sorority, Nanako begins to take a deep look at love, friendship, and the essence of being human, all while being surrounded by envy and jealousy. She confides her various experiences at the academy, along with unspeakable worries and hardships, in letters to her elder “brother” and a young man named Takehiko Henmi… A masterpiece anime born of satellite broadcasting. It is a work by Riyoko Ikeda that the Dezaki-Sugino duo took on for the first time in 11 years since “The Rose of Versailles.” It is considered a unique work that brings a fresh, unprecedented shock by transcending the framework of TV anime with its aesthetic world.

The disc looks like this:

An “obi” (sash that covers the spine) is included. Of course, it says “My tears won’t stop!” in huge text, sells it as the latest Dezaki/Sugino collaboration, and describes it as tanibi na sekai — a poetic concept of a romantic, sublime world of aesthetic beauty.

There are two paper inserts in each volume. The first one looks like this, and is an index of LaserDisc chapter markers based not on plot developments, but notable character quotes.

There’s also a form you can fill out to get a telephone card. Simply cut out a coupon from each volume to prove you bought the full set. Be quick, entries are due end of March 1994.

The interior is the best part. Here’s the spread for Volume One.

I haven’t translated episode synopses, but I’ve attempted to translate both the staff letter and the “letter to dear brother” from someone external to the production. There’s a bio for each author.

Volume One’s “From the staff to all the fans”

Bio:

Osamu Dezaki Joined Mushi Production in 1963. After directing series like “Astro Boy” and “Goku’s Great Adventure,” he was selected as the general director for “Tomorrow’s Joe” in 1970 at the young age of 26. Born on November 18, 1943, and hailing from Tokyo, he has received high praise as a director. Subsequently, he has brought numerous masterpieces into the world, including “Aim for the Ace!”, “The Adventures of Ganba,” “Nobody’s Boy,” “Treasure Island,” “The Rose of Versailles,” “Space Adventure Cobra,” “BB,” and more. He is also referred to as “Sakimakura” and “Mataba Sakimakura.”

The letter:

This is my second time working on Ikeda-san’s work since “The Rose of Versailles.” Her works have a unique aroma, whether you call it a theme or a world. They seem to pursue the literary aspect of the story. When I read the original work of “Dear Brother,” I was very drawn to these aspects, and at the same time, I felt a sense of anticipation that it would be difficult, but perhaps various images could be created. It’s not just about being cool or intense; it’s about creating images that resonate more and more with people’s hearts. Fundamentally, there is an original story, but when the characters start to move, and each begins to live, the story could go anywhere. I always had that sense of tension. So, rather than sticking to the original work, I placed more emphasis on the directorial focus of the reality of the characters who had started to move. As for the techniques, it was not something I was particularly conscious of, but I used a lot of completely black shots simply because I honestly felt they needed to be black. Whether or not it was successful, I wanted to effectively overlap the visuals with the characters’ psychology by delivering such physiological shocks. The psychological fluctuations of the people are indeed the overall aroma of this work. How the audience perceives that aroma is something I want to leave up to each individual’s free sensitivity. - July 8, 1993, at Tezuka Pro

Volume One’s “Letter to Dear Brother”

Bio:

Mutsumi Inomata Born on December 23 in Kanagawa Prefecture. After working with Ashi Production and Kaname Production, she is currently freelance. After going through Ashi Production and Kaname Production, she is now a freelance artist. Mutsumi Inomata is her real name. She was born on December 23 in Kanagawa Prefecture. She is active in both the fields of anime character design and illustration. In the realm of animation, she served as the character designer and chief animation director for works such as “Plawres Sanshiro” and “Genmu Senki Leda,” and as the character designer for “Future GPX Cyber Formula.” As an illustrator, she has also provided numerous illustrations for novels, including titles like “Prince of the Universe,” “Dragon Quest,” and “Continent of the Wind.”

The letter:

Comics are way hard to translate without actually knowing Japanese. Here’s my best effort to uncover some meaning.

For several years, I had stopped watching anime and stuff… Living a hectic life, it’s been like this for a while now. Having a set day and a set time to watch a specific program (not just limited to anime), had become impossible for me. Recording videos is also a hassle, and first and foremost, I just don’t feel that “I must watch the next episode!” kind of emotion anymore. Ah well, I was thinking maybe I’ve just become an adult. Heh heh heh. I’m such an idiot. No, that’s not it.

The blonde guy in the bottom-right is labeled as her friend, and she’s saying something about “Poupee-chan”. I think in the second panel he’s yelling saying “But that doll is supposed to be a girl!”

The final monologue starts with:

By the way, I have a container for “dangerous items” at the corner of my work desk. I keep things like cutter blades in it, so that I don’t accidentally drop them on the floor and cut myself or something. The “dangerous items” container I’m using now has a sticker with Saint-Just-sama’s “Nanako’s Eyes,” heh heh heh ♡

That’s about all there is to note about Volume One, besides the fact it comes with an enormous poster (it’s the same art used on the cover of the Discotek Blu-Ray.)

Volume Two

Volume Two Subheading

Those eyes of that person, mysteriously and beautifully shining. Why these feelings? Why...? The increasing heartbeat, the endless tears of adolescence. A masterpiece of forbidden cult anime born from satellite broadcasting! The second installment on LaserDisc!

Volume Two Synopsis

Nanako’s life at school, after being chosen as a sorority member, was not all glitz and glamour. There were misunderstandings with her best friend Tomiko, and jealousy and slander from other students, including Misaki Aya. And then there was the obsessive love from her fellow sorority member, Nobuo Mariko. “What is a sorority? Is it really that important?” Nanako began to question the very existence of sororities. Yet, she tries to look straight into herself, even while confused. Always before her were the mysteriously beautiful and shining eyes of Saint-Just. Drawn to those eyes that seemed to peer into a distant past, Nanako attempts to uncover their secret. Then, by chance, she finds out about the special relationship between Fukiko and Saint-Just. Could it be that Miya-sama and Saint-Just-sama are…? The complicated interplay of relationships and the previously enigmatic characters start to become a little clearer in “Volume 2: The Chapter of Freezing Rain.” The subtle breaths of the people surrounding Nanako can be heard.

Volume Two’s “From the staff, Dear Nanako”

Bio:

Hideo Takayashiki Born in 1947, native of Iwate Prefecture. After passing through Osamu Tezuka’s Mushi Production, became a scenario writer. Known for scripts of theatrical anime films such as “Hang in There, Tabuchi-kun!”, “Barefoot Gen”, and the “Phoenix” series. Also worked on numerous TV anime scripts like “Gutsy Frog”, “Gamba’s Adventure”, and “Tomorrow’s Joe”. Additionally, wrote scripts for original videos and TV dramas like “The Laughing Target”, “One-Pound Gospel”, and has written many novels, actively contributing as a versatile scriptwriter. Member of the Japan Broadcast Writers Association.

The letter:

Dear Nanako Misonoo, How are you? How is university life? It’s hard to believe that three years have passed since then. I was involved with you and those around you for just one year, but in retrospect, it was a very intense year. In any case, I did something terrible to you. It may have been the extreme form of “bullying” in some sense. My work as a scriptwriter involved probing and expanding the uncharted worlds between the frames of original works, constructing new narratives. In a sense, it was a painful job. And for you, it was excruciating. But now it’s a wonderful memory. I am filled with the feeling that I did some real work after a long time. How is your best friend, Tomoko? What about Mariko? I assume Fuki is becoming more and more beautiful? Do you occasionally receive letters from Kaoru? This summer marked the third anniversary of Saint-Just-sama’s passing. Thinking back, it was an unusually hot day. Your anguished form, waiting alone at the platform while listening to the chirping cicadas and the sound of the sea, is still etched in my memory. I hear that there has not been a single day without flowers at the electric pole where Saint-Just-sama fell. I am grateful for the chance to have met you and the people around you. Autumn, 1993

Volume Two’s “Letter to Dear Brother”

Bio:

Kazuhiko Shimamoto Born April 26, 1961 From the hinterland of Hokkaido After being selected as an honorable mention in the 9th Shogakukan Newcomer Comics Award Debuted with “Hissatsu no Transfer Student”. His masterpieces include Gyakkyo Nine’ and Moeyo Pen. Examples include Flame Transfer Student’ and Kamen Rider ZO.”

The letter:

Another piece directed by Osamu Dezaki and supervised by Akio Sugino has become a permanent edition (converted to LaserDisc)! (Hooray!) From the anime “Ashita no Joe” (1), the unique and beautiful way of life portrayed in anime is so intense that it has consistently given us dreams, hopes, despair, loneliness, friendship, love, perseverance, and revival! These works have even surpassed the original works in the emotional impact of their final episodes. I continue to be captivated by the atmosphere conveyed by these works. The reason I enjoy drawing the final episodes of my own works is entirely due to Director Dezaki’s influence! Currently, Osamu Tezuka and Ikki Kajiwara, the two individuals whom I revered as gods in the manga world, are no longer with us. Even now, these works, which possess added charm, continue to provide us (even those who have become professionals) with anticipation for the next episode, life lessons, and motivation for creating works. Seagulls, dance! Liquids, shine!! Wind, blow and then, “Why go to such lengths?” Charafo! Go as far as you can go! Mariko, somehow you’re really scary, Mariko.

Then the words scribbled next to the drawing of Mariko:

You are the protagonist of this work! I’m paying the most attention to you. You’re not alone! That’s right! Make me Mariko’s ‘older brother’… ‘older brother’…

Mariko is saying (OCR mangling here, sadly):

Thank you… I just feel… that’s special… Why not? If I had to say, maybe it’s a ‘woman’s world’…

(Clearly a reference to Rikiishi Toru of Dezaki’s earlier anime Ashita no Joe, who intensely speaks of a “man’s world”. He and Mariko love a good starvation diet!)

The little chibi version of Shimamoto(?) in the bottom left is saying:

But everyone, don’t easily become someone’s ‘older brother.’ It’ll be troublesome later!

GPT-4 noticed a cute reference it couldn’t include in its translation. Its note:

The text seems to be OCR scanned partially, and hence some meanings might be missing or distorted, such as “マンガ界のジョン・シルバーだ!!”, which appears to compare Dezaki and Sugino to a ‘John Silver’ of the manga world.

Volume Three

Volume Three Subheading

It’s not too late; our beautiful time can still be preserved, forever unspoiled, just like this white snow… A forbidden masterpiece of a cult anime born from satellite broadcasting! The fourth release on LD!

Volume Three Synopsis

Suddenly summoned to the sorority house, Nanako is pressured by Fukiko to end her relationship with Hemimi. Upon hearing this, Saint-Just confesses her complicated relationship with Fukiko. The shocking truth behind why “Miya-sama” wanted Nanako in the sorority unfolds, leaving her deeply shaken. Meanwhile, Saint-Just is tormented by the realization that the stronger her feelings for Fukiko, the more she ends up hurting her. The complex relationship between Saint-Just and Fukiko has a tragic past involving a near-suicidal event. On another front, Mariko causes an incident by attacking Misaki, motivated by slander about her parents’ divorce, which leads to a movement spearheaded by Kaoru to abolish the sorority. Amid the crumbling sorority, Fukiko remains composed. The fourth volume, “Chapter of Snow Dance,” captures her frightening yet noble confidence and deep sorrow. In the snow that never melts, remains the sad yet beautiful promise of Saint-Just.

Volume Three’s “From the staff to all the fans”

Bio:

Tomoko Konparu Born on March 13, 1956, in Nara Prefecture. Pisces. Blood type AB. A fan of both manga and anime, she became a screenplay writer and debuted during her university days with “Ikkyu-san.” Anime works include “Urusei Yatsura: Only You,” “Urusei Yatsura: Remember My Love,” “Touch 2: Farewell Gift,” “Phoenix,” “Cat’s Eye,” “Hime-chan’s Ribbon,” and more. Novel works include “Mystery at the Tower of London,” “Mystery at Nara’s Great Buddha” (published by Kobunsha Bunko), among others.

The letter:

When I heard that this work was going to be turned into an anime, I was shocked. I’d known about the series since its serialization, so my reaction was something like, “What!? Are they really going to do it!? And on NHK of all places!?” Expanding on the original work and filling in the parts that hadn’t been depicted was incredibly challenging, but also enjoyable. What surprised me was that, around the midpoint, the characters started to assert themselves, taking actions that were entirely different from what I had planned. The princess would say, “My pride isn’t so easily swayed,” San Just would insist, “I’m not going to commit suicide,” and even the older sisters of the sorority were like, “We can’t back down now.” Every time this happened, I had to rework the composition. This phenomenon of “characters moving on their own accord” was a first for me in an anime series, and it was an incredibly fresh and pleasant experience. That being said, it’s rare to be so emotionally invested in characters while working, to the point of even role-playing their lines. To be honest, this was a work that got my inner anime fan excited. Ah, I want to do work like this again!

Volume Three’s “Letter to Dear Brother”

Bio:

Keiko Fukuyama Born on September 7. From Tokyo. Currently, she is working as a manga artist, authoring works like “Ruru-chan of Star Island” and “The Tale of Appfelrant.” She also illustrates for children’s stories, including the “Mama Ghost Series.”

The letter:

It appears to be titled “To the Unforgettable Older Sister”. Much of it is too hard to OCR. It opens with this caption:

“To My Older Brother…” is so melancholic and sentimental that it instantly takes us back to our student days where we felt we were tossed around by fate for no fault of our own…

Here’s some of the text beside the character drawings:

Fukiko/Saint-Just: Reputed as the most beautiful sisters in school Mariko: The most popular Mariko-san who lured our tears. There’s a lot to think about! Tomoko: A straightforward, kind friend Nanako: So there I was, fully embracing my Nanako persona, reaping all the sorority perks you could imagine. (I mean, they even say they’ll hook me up with a dreamy guy!) 💧 And just when I’m soaking up that sorority vibe, guess who’s set to make a surprise appearance right after the teaser for the next issue!

Text coming out of the TV:

It was “Oniisama e”!!!! Poor Mariko-san, right~ Misaki-san also, there was no need to say that much, you know.

Volume Four

Volume Four Subheading

It’s not too late yet, our beautiful time can still last forever, unspoiled by anyone, just like this white snow… A forbidden cult anime masterpiece born from satellite broadcasting! The fourth installment on LD!

Volume Four Synopsis

Suddenly summoned to the sorority house, Nanako is pressured by Fukiko to end her relationship with Hemmi. Hearing this, Sanjust is compelled to confess his relationship with Fukiko. The shocking truth makes Nanako reel in disbelief. He deeply ponders that the stronger his feelings for Fukiko, the more he ends up hurting her. The unusual relationship between Sanjust and Fukiko reveals a tragic past of a failed double suicide. Meanwhile, in the school, an incident occurs where Mariko, slandered for her parents’ divorce, attacks Misaki, leading to an anti-sorority movement centered around Kaoru. Fukiko still acts nonchalantly in front of the crumbling sorority. The volume unfolds displaying Fukiko’s terrifying yet noble confidence and deep sorrow. A beautiful yet sad promise lingers in the snow that never melts.

Volume Four’s “From the staff to all the fans”

Bio:

Kenichiro Haneda Born on January 12, 1949. Graduated from Toho Gakuen College of Music in the Piano Department. An accomplished concert pianist, Kenichiro Haneda has a broad range of experience, including composing and performing music for movies and TV themes, as well as acting as a musical director for musicals and commercials. He has worked on numerous soundtracks such as NHK’s morning drama “Youth Family,” TBS’s “Women Work Hard” and “Life Is Full of Demons.” With his genre-defying approach to music and his bright, humorous personality, he is a sought-after multi-artist in various fields.

The letter:

I’ve worked quite a bit with Music Director Seiji Suzuki in the past. Suzuki gives me the music menu, and I’m the one who creates it. We’ve had some pretty detailed discussions about it. Of course, I’ve read the original work as well. When I read it at home, my daughter gives me a puzzled look, as if to say my interests have changed quite a bit (laughs). I think I wrote around 40 songs in total. The music is meant to have a Baroque sound while also feeling contemporary. The order was for something classical yet with a pop atmosphere. The image that immediately came to my mind was a rhythm section, with a harpsichord playing the melody. String instruments intricately marking the rhythm, much like Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. And on top of that, a flugelhorn playing the melody… Regarding the scenes where the piano is played, I played all of it myself. I often compose and perform my own pieces. It’s less about talent and more like playing two roles; maybe I contribute quite a bit to cost-saving (laughs). In any case, this work has a unique atmosphere. If the music I created successfully captures that, then I must again express my gratitude to Suzuki for coordinating everything. October 28, 1993, aired on NHK

Volume Four’s “Letter to Dear Brother”

Bio:

Hideaki Anno Born on May 22, 1960. Originally from Ube, Yamaguchi Prefecture. Height is 180 cm; weight is a secret. Debuted as an animator during his time at Osaka University of Arts, working on the TV version of “Macross.” Later worked on “Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind,” the film version of “Macross,” “Royal Space Force,” and others, before directing “Gunbuster” and “Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water.” Currently planning new projects.

The letter:

Way to go!! Oniisama e… Wow!! The long-awaited, tumultuous Volume 4!! This volume shows us the peak of the series, from Mariko-san’s stabbing incident to the dissolution of the sorority. Amazing, this is really amazing!! Yes. Especially the heartbreaking breakdown of Nobuo’s family, and the portrayal of the sorority’s downfall reminiscent of the French Revolution, are things that are indescribable with words. Yes. The highlights this time are– Brilliant! Highly sophisticated direction and high-quality animation in Episode 27! Tear-jerking! In Episode 28, Mr. Nobuo Hikawa’s soul-stirring outcry!! Upon hearing those lines, my tears really wouldn’t stop. Seriously. Amazing!! Oh, so moving! The heartfelt words of Miya-sama at the end of Episode 32. The sight of Miya-sama waiting alone in the Sorority House and those lines really hit me hard. Moreover, as always– Incredible!! The world that reminds me of ‘Aim for the Ace!’ and ‘The Rose of Versailles’!! Impressive!! The drama unfolds only in limited settings, like homes, trains, buses, crossings, schools, and other familiar places!! Very Sophisticated!! The direction, composed of stillness and motion, light and black, feels so mature. As expected, Dezaki-san! And, Powerful!! Nanako-san is turning into an adult right before our eyes. Moreover, the music is also great!! I wish the BGM CD would come out soon. The use of chimes and telephones remains clever as ever!! Ah, the only thing missing is a bit more on the background elements… by H. ANO ‘93 10/27

The tiger is saying “It’s awesome, isn’t it!”

Written above the drawings of Mariko and Saint-Just: “These two are definitely the ones. Yes.”

Volume Five

Volume Five Subheading

The summer full of light ends, the eventful summer ends… And then the cherry blossoms bloom again… Brother, I am now… A satellite broadcast-born forbidden cult anime masterpiece! The final chapter on LD!

Volume Five Synopsis

Finally, the petition to abolish the sorority has garnered signatures from over two-thirds of all students. As the campus is in a state of upheaval, Saint-Just is lost in thought alone. One day, he calls Nanako out and promises to take her to the beach where he used to go often with his mother when he was younger. However, on the promised day, Saint-Just never shows up. His sudden death plunges many people, including Nanako, into the depths of sorrow. Among them, Kaoru, who is battling cancer and fearful of its recurrence, takes the news of Saint-Just’s death most seriously. She finds comfort in the warmth of Takahiko Henmi, but continues to stubbornly refuse his love, thinking about his future. Love, friendship, bonds… The fifth volume, titled “Chapter of the Fireflies,” explores the dignity, beauty, and value of human life. Seasons turn, and the cherry blossoms bloom again, bringing back familiar scents to Nanako. All of this is accompanied by the most beautiful “love.”

Volume Five’s “From the staff to all the fans”

Bio:

Riyoko Ikeda Born December 18, Showa 22 (1947). Native of Osaka City. Blood type AB. Graduated from Tokyo Metropolitan Hakutsuru High School and went on to the Philosophy department at Tokyo University of Education (now Tsukuba University). Began drawing manga during her time in school and debuted with “The Girl in the Rose Mansion.” In 1972, she achieved great success with “The Rose of Versailles,” acquiring a broad fan base that transcended the realm of girls’ manga. Known for her keen historical perspective and deep insight into human nature. Active as a writer and essayist as well. Her hobbies include Nihon buyo (Japanese traditional dance), oil painting, movie appreciation, vocal music, piano, cooking, and knitting. Her work has been selected for the 76th Nika Exhibition. Major works: “The Rose of Versailles,” “Window of Orpheus,” “Empress Catherine,” “To My Brother,” “At the Ends of the Sky,” “The Blue Pomegranate,” “My Manga” Books: “If Only Life Could Be Lived Once,” “Women of the French Revolution,” “Women Who Wrote Masterpieces” Currently writing “Eroica” and “Prince Shotoku.”

The letter:

As one who has journeyed far from that radiant chapter called youth, a time that shone with an almost awkward brilliance, I find myself in a peculiar blend of bewilderment and nostalgia. Seeing my old ideas of high school life come to life as animation almost 20 years later is surreal, to say the least. Still, it’s exciting: hearing voices given to these characters, seeing them talk, laugh, and get angry. Watching them come alive is truly a thrilling and satisfying experience. Ah, adolescence — everyone’s inescapable stairway to adulthood. Some people take each step slowly and carefully, while others rush ahead, ending up out of breath or even lost. And then, there are those who may lose their direction, standing still, contemplating each step. Wrapped in the love of family, meeting various people, nurturing friendships, experiencing love, and going through the ups and downs of hurt and forgiveness — it would be wonderful to climb those steps in such a way.

Volume Five’s “Letter to Dear Brother”

Bio:

Rumiko Takahashi Born in Niigata Prefecture. Debuted in 1978 with “Katte na Yatsura,” submitted while still in college, in Shonen Sunday. Famous works include “Urusei Yatsura,” “Maison Ikkoku,” and others. Currently serializing “Ranma 1/2” in Shonen Sunday.

The letter:

A masterpiece infused with the creator’s soul. When I heard from the staff that “Oniisama e…” was getting the anime treatment on satellite TV, I was surprised. I’d delved into the original comic before and it’s quite an eccentric story. “How are they going to pull this off?” I thought. But learning that the script was in the capable hands of my acquaintance Tomoko Konparu, I was very excited. In fact, the anime that aired was genuinely captivating. The characters are so larger-than-life that they electrify the screen the moment they step into frame. It’s been a long time since an anime had that kind of presence. I believe the animation is done by the same people who worked on “Tomorrow’s Joe 2.” The scenes are so visceral that you can almost feel the punches land and see the fighters hit the mat. I kept asking myself, “Why isn”t a mouthpiece flying out?” (laughs) My favorite character in the work is Nobuo Mariko. The scenes where she bites her lip until it turns a flushed red, I find it really cute. But what blew me away was the show’s emotional intelligence. Just when the heroine seems on the brink of breaking, a lifeline is thrown her way. This nuanced touch prevents the darker, more harrowing elements from overwhelming the viewer. It’s as if you can feel the sincerity of the creator throughout the piece.

And that’s it. Again, check out the full scans on Archive.org, and remember to encourage all your friends to experience this beautiful anime!

[xuchiya]

arcade moments

THE AMOUINT OF TIMES i have re-written this chapter but it never shouts wooyoung and until i manage to create one, this one is REALLY wooyoung. I know wooyoung is a playful, competitive type of person. it might be new but i like how the story went.

₊˚.༄ || soft valentines m.list || hongjoong || seonghwa || yunho || yeosang || san || mingi || wooyoung || jongho || ₊˚.༄

a competitive boyfriend wooyoung would beat your scores on any arcade games, like you beat 960 on basketball; he'll go beyond 980 to that or shooting the zombie, he'll beat you to it. but wooyoung is a passionate and affectionate boyfriend, so he'll not leave this place until he makes you taste the same victory.

wooyoung had been wanting to visit the arcade for weeks, and today was finally the day. As you walked hand in hand with him, you couldn't help but feel the rush of excitement, your inner child screaming as your eyes wandered on the neon lights and the noise pf the machines.

As you stepped inside, the lively atmosphere enveloped you. The sound of games being played, laughter echoing off the walls, and the scent of popcorn filled the air. Wooyoung's eyes sparkled with anticipation as he scanned the room, his gaze landing on a row of vintage arcade games.

"let's shoot!" he said, leading you over to the game. You grabbed the plastic gun eagerly, focusing on the screen as targets popped up one by one. wooyoung stood beside you, cheering you on with each successful hit. he was impressed but his competitive side wouldn't let him as he played another round, beating your score.

he place the gun on the holster and looks at you with a playful smirk, tongue poking his cheek, "didn't mean to show off." you scoff grinning, always up for a challenge, "i see where you're going."

wooyoung shrugs, throwing his arm around your shoulder, "you pick the wrong person, woo~." he side-glance, a smile reaching his lips. he had always love your competitive side and that lure him in your life, "am i? well i think i pick the right person. for my heart."

a blush suddenly covered your face, a hyenatic laugh echoed the place as wooyoung notice your face. The two of you wasted no time diving into various games, each one igniting a friendly rivalry between you. From racing games where you both jostled for the lead to another shooting games where accuracy was key, the arcade echoed with your laughter and playful banter.

but it was when you stumbled upon the punching bag machine that the true competition ignited. wooyoung stepped up first, claiming that he needs to make sure that it's working fine and no unfair kind of system will determine his success and your defeat, you think it was unbelievable.

after inserting a coin on the slot, he throw a powerful punch that sent the bag swinging high.

you watched with a smirk, determined to show him what you were made of. you were a fighter, a ring fighter; been to many comptetitions until you decided to halt for a while to rest.

as you stepped up to the machine, you took off your coat and toss it to his face, which he catch; pretending to be a fan. you chuckle at his reaction.

wooyoung's eyes widened with surprise, already anticipating his victory. you took a deep breath, channeling all your strength into the punch. The bag soared, hitting the highest mark on the machine with a resounding thud.

"what the f-" you both watch the monitor increases its number until it hit higher than wooyoung. wooyoung's jaw dropped in shock, his competitive spirit momentarily subdued by your unexpected display of strength. "w-what? where did that strength came from?" he exclaimed, genuine admiration shining in his eyes.

you grinned, shrugging "gym?" you teased, flexing your muscles playfully. he shakes his head in disbelief, "babe i go to the gym too but this ..." pointing at the machine score then back to you, "this is not just any session in the gym but in sparring or something."

you smile, thanking him as he helps you place your coat back on, "you seem to observe eh?" he nods, holding you hand, "san does benching and sparring a lot so when you did that; it does not make sense when you said gym. do you do other sports?"

you press your lips together, suppressing as smile, "yeah ... i do kick-boxing."

if there's more than anything to describe his face is this '(。_。)' like starring at you as if you just said a humorless joke though you did not look like you were joking at all. expecting any reaction but him clinging on your arm as he squish your muscles underneath your clothes was something you were not expecting.

"i love strong woman." you laugh, grabbing his hand in your small ones. he was grinning, so genuine and full of affection. He knows that you can be a little bit insecure as the way you bring yourself, "if you feel diffident on what you can do and who you are then stop, you're wasting your time. this is who you are because that's how you see yourself everyday; a confident and a fighter and i love you for that and i won't stop." with wooyoung, he loves you, no matter what it is. wooyoung squeeze your hands in his, making you stare at his eyes, "i fell in love not the cricket player on the field, not the captain of her volleyball team but the strong headed woman that I saw and oath to love."

your heart swelled with warmth at his words, grateful to have someone who appreciated every aspect of who you were, "aww woo."

he chuckles, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, "you do you baby." As you continued your arcade adventure, the competitive edge softened into a shared sense of joy and admiration, each game bringing you closer together.

On the night of your date, wooyoung find himself staring at you with fondess, "i love you." your eyes shimmer—not matter how many times he says it, your heart never get used to it, bowing your head as emotions swirled in your heart. pass through all of this, wooyoung still find how you are unique to everyone else.

"i love you too and thank you woo." your voice full of emotions and eyes fill with gratitude. he pulls you in for a hug, "i hope you always remember that you are beautiful inside and out."

honestly, i like it

[tetrapaec]

Highest resolution I can get with my professional graphic design scanner is 2k!

Sadly the original prints are very low quality, I hope they make a digital release of these when the tour is over so we can actually print them in higher res (2k is already really high)!

The best size for printing these is about 53x75cm (which is a bit smaller than A1, or 4 A3 sheets together)

I will now scan all my 23 photocards + backs and upload them to Tumblr <3 I'll make a post on how to print them as well (I gotta use my degree somehow)

[angelof-thevoid]

Memorable Moments / Wisdom

Io remained the same in spite of everything else that’s happened. Ikora came to the Jovian moon expecting it to be changed as well, but found the only thing different was her. As a person. Doubtful. Hopeless, and stripped of the light. What was once the steady presence of a background hum is now a gaping void of silence. Emotions that had been long-time strangers now rise back to the surface to force their re-acquaintance if she lingers too long on that thought.

The traveler was caged and the last safe city was no longer safe, overrun with red legion troops making a mess of what humanity had re-built. She scans the horizon, eyes dragged to the focal point of the cradle, a strange series of geometric risings carved out of the yellow sulfur infused ground. Like the beginnings of a project once started but left unfinished and abandoned. 

Like how she abandoned the city. Ikora draws in steady breath as she turns around to face the area commonly dubbed the lost oasis. Lost, like I am. It’s hard for her to reach for the usual faith she holds in the light as Ikora stands by watching idly the taken in the distance near tear shiver and teleport in that unnatural way. She feels powerless. She hates this feeling. 

All the wisdom Ikora possessed seemed outside her reach at this moment, feeling untethered to an integral part of who she was and her belief system. Holding the highest crucible record meant nothing if that bravado was only backed by the strength of her light, who is she outside of that capability? Another cowering mortal, waiting out the oncoming days, seeing which day might be the last?

Who did she want to be was the real question. Her hands tightened for a moment behind her back before deciding to get down in a kneeled position, choosing to meditate on the dilemma. Ikora shuts her eyes and sets her breathing into an even pace as her mind flickers between images of what used to matter to her, what matters now and what always had. 

The pursuit of knowledge. Proving herself and her strength. Learning to study and grow from other’s teachings. Knowing her identity separated from that and knowing when to walk away. Ikora inhales, then exhales.

Her fire team. Zavala. Cayde. Her Hidden. The rest of the guardians and the mortal civilians of the last city. Everyone who is still there, doing their best to survive this current crisis like many others. But this was different, this threat brought right to their doorstep, right on top of their home and safe haven. Ikora clenches her fists in her lap again. How dare they. Taking the traveler and their home. 

Ikora continues her meditation with her evened breathing to prevent herself from feeling overwhelmed, when she hears the tell-tale sound of a jump ship flying overhead. She looks up and sees what she believes to be the guardian’s ship, now hovering to settle in low orbit as they transmat out of the vehicle.

She rises and looks back out toward the cradle, feeling a sort of kinship to it out here half undone and lonely on its own. Ikora hears the guardian’s footsteps behind her with what seems like misplaced confidence, all things considered, and she feels… Wait. She feels the presence of the guardian as she always had, including their light.

The guardian’s light? How? Ghaul cut off the traveler! Ikora kept her surprise inward as she argued internally over this. The guardian had proven to be quite extraordinary, maybe they were somehow unaffected? But there was footage of them falling from high up, like a puppet cut from its strings along with their ghost being spotted searching for them. 

Even so, if it’s possible to have the light returned and the guardian found a way, not all was lost then. If they have that knowledge then that could mean there’s still a chance to turn all of this around. A spark of hope ignites within her chest as Ikora basks in the familiar sense of that background hum of light coming off the guardian, although a part of it seems a little… Changed. 

What that could mean she doesn’t know nor have the wisdom at this present moment to determine. But what it did mean was in her mind a turning point as Ikora addresses the guardian, confiding in them her concerns while still sticking to the wisdom of their faith in the light. And she considers the reappearance of the guardian before her as a sign of that wisdom being true.

[lukin08]

Up In The Air Chapter 7

Kristanna Modern AU

Rated T

WC 2559

Summary: Tired of her nomad lifestyle, traveling nurse Anna Arendelle on a whim picks Pensacola Florida as her new town to try find a sense of home. Meanwhile, Navy Pilot Kristoff Bjorgman has accepted a dream position at the Naval station in the same town. After a chance encounter goes south, the two of them find their lives entwined, with neither of them all that happy about it!

Also Available on AO3

Previous Chapter

Thanks for picking me up, again,” Sven said as he hopped into the Jeep.

“No problem.”

“What do we have on the docket…wait, why are you wearing your khakis?”  Sven gave Kristoff a full scan of his uniform.

“I have a meeting before practice.”

“With who?” 

“Shashaty and Kesselring.”

“No fucking way! For what?”

Kristoff didn’t really know what to say to Sven.  While he had his suspicions, Kristoff wasn’t given the full details of the meeting.  He knew it had to do with the new pilot training at the base, but there was more to it to be meeting with both men.  Kristoff answered nonchalantly, hoping Sven would drop it.  “Just some stuff about the flight instruction program I’ve been helping with during the offseason.”

“That can’t be all.” Sven squinted his eyes and studied Kristoff.  He was quiet for a minute before stating confidently, “I know what this is about.  They’re looking to move you up.”

Kristoff scoffed at Sven’s words.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s it. I know it.” Sven sat back in his seat, crossing his arms.

“It’s just a meeting.”

Sven instantly leaned forward and turned to face Kristoff.  “The head of the base doesn’t want to just talk to you about the program. They have their eye on you.  Just tell me I’m right. Come on, you know.”

“I don’t know anything. “

“Blink twice for yes.  Kris, please.  You know I won’t say anything.”

Kristoff shook his head.  “I don’t even have enough years in for board review to move to Commander.”

Sven held his finger out.  “One, you will next year.  And two, your work on the flight instructions makes total sense to help you move up.  So, there you have it. Done deal.”

The thought had crossed Kristoff’s mind, but he had been trying to ignore that. His year in Pensacola had brought up an urge to stay longer and he wasn’t really sure how to handle these new desires.  But flight instruction was a means to possibly stay, and Kristoff had thrown himself into the program, finding ways to improve it.  He found the work more enjoyable than he thought he would.  Assisting on the program could give Kristoff an advantage to being re-assigned at Pensacola.  Throw in a commander rank and he might have a shot when his time in the Blues was over to at least stay a few more years.  But he didn’t want to have that conversation with Sven on the drive to work and needed to change the subject.

 “You know what I think?”

“What?”

“That you should spend less time worrying about me and more about focusing on yourself and getting moved up to LT. commander.  I’m sure the pay jump will help especially now for you and Nic.”

Sven was sitting back again in his seat.  He turned away to look out the window, letting out a deep breath. “I know.  I slacked and you were right to push me like you did even if I didn’t appreciate it before.   But you know I recommitted to it.  I’ve been working my ass off like you’ve been on me to, and I got the highest marks after my last deployment.”

Kristoff smiled at that.  He felt guilty pushing Sven as much as he did over the years.  Sven wasn’t behind in his promotions as far as the Navy viewed it, but Kristoff knew the potential Sven had and how he could be farther ahead in his career.  It didn’t help that Sven sometimes compared himself to Kristoff and perceived he was lacking. It was quite the opposite.  Sven had proved himself by applying to the Blue Angels.  Kristoff had no influence if he would make it or not.  Sven stood in front of the sixteen officers that interview day and everyday leading up to that and was accepted into the team on his own merit.  A pilot was only accepted by a unanimous vote.  Sometimes it would take long hours into the night to get everyone to approve a pilot.  Sven was voted in within ten minutes of the discussion starting.  Kristoff couldn’t wait to tell Sven that fact next year when it was Sven’s turn to take part in the voting.

 If anything, Kristoff felt Sven had a healthier view of his career and more importantly what was outside of it.  Sven had a wife, a family, things that Kristoff never thought he’d get to experience.  The idea almost felt foreign to him now. Kristoff had pushed that yearning down so far for so many years that he almost believed that he didn’t want that anymore.

“Keep grinding it out and you’ll be in good shape to move up at the next boards.”

Sven grinned.  “I hope so.  It would be the best news to tell Nikki.”

“Speaking of Nic, how’s she doing?”

The smile was back on Sven’s face.  “Better.  She hasn’t been feeling as sick lately, thank goodness.  She’s set up with a good doctor now and I’m starting to be able to breathe again. I’m glad you’re here with me. I know we told you early, but I needed someone I could trust to talk to.  You’ve been a lifesaver.”

“Any time.  I hate to ask this, but are you set for when we leave for El Centro? That’s going to be a long stretch with you gone.”

Sven nodded.  “We’re going to tell Boss’s wife and a few others about the pregnancy so Nikki will have a support system while I’m gone.  She’s starting to make some other friends too outside of the Blue’s family. You know Nikki.  She’s strong.  She’ll be good.”

“And how about you?” Kristoff asked, glancing at Sven from the side of his eyes.

“Don’t worry.  I’m good.  Focused.  I’ll huddle up in our cocoon out in the desert and be 100 percent in.  I’ve been away from her before.  I can manage a couple months.”

Kristoff nodded.  He needed Sven’s head in the game when they went to winter training.  And while he trusted Sven, he was still going to have to keep an extra eye on him.

Sven managed to stay quiet for a few minutes.  Then if on cue, he started up again. “So, are you working on the instruction program for any other reason?”

“You know that’s where I want to focus on after this is over.”

“And?”

So much for not talking about it.  Kristoff silently swore at Sven.  It was like the man had radar to focus in on exactly any topic he’d rather avoid. “…and it’s been nice being home.  I wouldn’t mind if I happened to get stationed here as an instructor. I have zero say where the Navy sends me.”

“But a nudge from the base commander wouldn’t hurt when the time comes. I get it.”  Kristoff was a little surprised Sven didn’t push more.  Instead, he sat there in contemplation for a moment before shifting the conversation.  “I’d give anything to be assigned to the states after this,”

“Really?”

“I just want to be done with all the long deployments.  I know you do too no matter what you say.  We aren’t supposed to live for months on end on the carriers anymore.  That’s for the younger guys.  We’ve been living like this since we were what? 22, 23?  It’s time for us to come on the carriers for shorter stints and patrol domestically.”

“You almost sound like you don’t want to fly anymore.”

“Hell yeah I want to fly.”  The look on Sven’s face was pure indignancy. “I want to every day!  But you know the optimal age for a dog fight.”

“30.”

“Well, we have started that downhill trajectory my friend.  And going out on patrol to hunt for subs is for the newbies anyway.  That’s not our role anymore. We should be working on projects and training and going out and leading squadrons when there is a conflict, and you know it.”

“I’m not arguing with you.”

“Sorry bud.  I just get myself worked up sometimes thinking about what’s best for my family.”

Hearing Sven talk about his family sent a knot in Kristoff’s stomach.  So many things were changing, and it was the first time in a long time that Kristoff wasn’t 100 percent sure where the next step in his life would take him.  He reminded himself that the next two seasons were devoted to the Blue Angels.  Talk about next positions and assignments were distractions he shouldn’t be fixating on.  He’d cross that bridge when this run was over.

They made it to the base.  Kristoff pulled into his parking spot and went inside.  

Kristoff stopped before heading to his office.  “Remember not a word.”

“Roger.  I’m going to go over the flight map of El Centro before our briefing.  Anything else you want me to look at?”

“The inverted to inverted roll.  I want to work on that today when we’re up.”

“Got it.  Good luck,” Sven said before saluting Kristoff and heading over to his desk and parting ways with Kristoff.

******************************

“So how did it go?”

Sven was sitting across from Kristoff in his office, tossing a baseball in the air.  They had just finished the team debrief and were going over some of the solo flight details for the next day.

“It was…fine.”

“What was Boss’s and Shashaty’s feedback?”

Before Kristoff could say anything, there was swift knock on the door.  Kristoff looked up.  “Come in.”

An ensign came saluted and handed Kristoff a folder. He already knew what this was for and quickly opened it and signed his name.  Kristoff handed the folder back and dismissed the junior officer.

“What was that?”

Kristoff looked up and saw Sven eyeing him.  For a half second, he thought about reprimanding Sven for stepping out of line and asking about the file.  But they were in private, and Kristoff allowed a more informal environment when it was just the two of them.  There wasn’t anything classified in the file anyway and Sven was bound to find out sooner than later.

“Re-evaluation orders for a group of flight trainees.”

Sven raised an eyebrow.  “You ordered that?”

“Sure did.”

“So that’s how it went today,” Sven said with a knowing look.  “Masters is going to be pissed you are questioning his team’s flight evaluations and recommendations.”

“I’d be surprised if he wasn’t.  And I’m not questioning them.  I’m questioning the process. They are passing up on some top tier candidates for the fighter jet pipeline.”

“Good luck with that one.”  Sven let out a whistle and shook his head.

Kristoff started pulling out his bag and checked his watch for the time.  “You got a ride home?  I’m going to the hospital as soon as I get changed back into my Khakis.”

“All set.”  The grin was back on Sven’s face.  Kristoff knew instantly where this conversation was headed.  He didn’t like it one bit.  “So, are you going to see the red head today? What’s her name again?”

Kristoff’s eyes narrowed as he glared at Sven.  “Anna.  Why are you bringing her up?”

“Just getting ahead of you before you start complaining about her.  Do you actually get anything done in these meetings or do you just fight with her all the time?”

“I don’t fight with her.  She fights with me and I correct her.”

“Right.  Cause you never rub people the wrong way.  Are you sure you can’t smooth things over with her.  Apologize and move-“

Kristoff cut Sven off.  “I don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“Doubtful. But think about it.  Maybe you two could get on a better standing.”

Kristoff leaned forward, putting both hands on his desk to get his head lower and more in line to where Sven was sitting.  He stared directly into Sven’s eye to emphasize his point. “She called me a liar and said she didn’t have any respect for me.  I know exactly where I stand with her.  And I’m just fine with that.”

“She really gets under your skin doesn’t she? I think I could like her.”  Sven started laughing to himself. “Man, I wish I could remember what she looked like from the bar.”

Kristoff stood back up.  “And I wish you would stop bringing that up.”

“Hey, great idea.  Take me with you next time.  I’m dying to see this war between the two of you play out in live action.”

Sven was laughing again.  Kristoff picked up his bag.  “Absolutely not,” he barked before walking out and leaving Sven as fast as he could.

******************************  

“Why are you always so late!”

Anna chastised herself looking at the time on her phone again.  She knew she was running late, but she really wanted to get changed out of her scrubs before leaving the hospital.  The drive took longer than she thought and she wasn’t that familiar with downtown Pensacola. Between finding parking and walking in the wrong direction twice, she was running over fifteen minutes late.

“Oh, that’s cute!” Anna slowed for a second to admire a dress in a boutique’s window before catching herself and walking again at a brisk pace.  “Focus!”  She made a mental note to come back to this area soon.

She made it to the restaurant and found the hand waving to her across the room.  Anna quickly dodged around the tables to get to her seat.

“I am so sorry I’m late!”

“Oh, my goodness do not worry about it.  I’ve been living on this bread.  It’s so good. I’m on my second basket.”

“Nicole!”

“What? The baby’s hungry.”

Both women burst into a fit of giggles.  Anna looked over at her new friend.  She was so happy they hit it off.  From that first day they met when Nicole came in alone to her appointment, they had become fast friends.  Anna was the nurse that day and stayed with Nicole her whole appointment after finding out Nicole’s husband had just been deployed out of state and would be gone for several months.  They cliqued immediately and Anna was grateful for this new friendship.

“I saw some baby shops on my walk here, we should check them out some day.”  Anna hesitated.  “Unless you rather go with your husband.”

Nicole waived her off. “Are you kidding me? Sven does not need to go baby clothes shopping with me.  I’m terrified of what he’d pick out.  I’d rather go with you.”

Anna smiled at that.  “So, what is the countdown at?”

“Three weeks.  Right before we find out if it’s a boy or girl.”

“I’m so glad he’ll be back for that.”

Nicole nodded.  “Me too.  And I can’t wait for you to meet Sven.  You’re going to love him.  We’ll have you over when he gets back, maybe with a few other friends.”

Anna squinted her eyes at Nicole.  “You mean Navy guys, don’t you?”

“And their significant others…at least some of them.  Relax Anna.  I promise we only know the good ones.  I’ve already vetted any of the single ones.”

“Why don’t I trust you?”

Nicole purposely ignored Anna.  “It’s set.  I’ll get a date when he’s back and we’ll have some people over.  It will be fun.”

“I don’t have a choice in this do I?”

Nicole grinned over at Anna.  “Absolutely not.”

[dirtyoldmanhole]

high res gunter images as promised! right-click save as for highest res.

some notes:

technically i could do better given an office scanner but i'm not quite that brain rotted for diminishing returns ~ i tried cleaning up the artwork that wasn't already available on FEWiki as of writing.

the artbook colors skews a little pink/red in general. I say this as i sat there arguing with myself for 20 minutes (twice) about the exact shade of his skin (which skews more yellow in the crit illusts and ime is a little over-exposed in the my room portrait on FEWiki) and cross referencing that and the hair/armor with the official sprites before realizing there are better things to do :P

I don't require credit for these scans/edits, but if you'd like, put it as (kradeelav.com). if i make a gunter fanshrine subdomain, these will go up there permanently.

the cover "rough" sketch was already really pixelated in the book; i'm sorry I couldn't do better but that shot is literally the size of my fingernail, as well as the headshots. maybe kozaki will release a bigger version someday. :D

[ihopegodhasasenseofhumour]

How to write.

A 24-step guide. 

Step 1: Open laptop, notebook, or notes app. 

Step 2: Pour a glass of wine (preferably red) 

Step 3: Scroll Tumblr and Substack. Compare your writing to every piece of text your eyes scan.

Step 4: Wallow in your self-pity until self-depreciation feels as comfortable as an old sweater.

Step 5: Try to think of every traumatic or even remotely interesting thing that’s ever happened to you. Slowly dissect it for any ounce of inspiration.

Step 6: Realize there’s too much hurt to sift through 

Step 7: Drink.

Step 8: Re-read past writing. Cringe. 

Step 9: Flip through your notebook. Gaze upon the jagged, scratching of red ink scarring its lined pages. Think about how its pages share the same scars as your thighs. 

Step 10: Scroll Tumblr again.

Step 11: Think about the past year. Cry. 

Step 12: Listen to music. Turn volume to the highest setting, until the rest of your senses have been drowned out. 

Step 13: Pick at old emotional wounds you’ve thought scarred over. Cry again.

Step 14: Hypothesize that maybe everything horrid that’s ever happened to you has been at the expense of your writing, and that maybe, just maybe, you are one of the grand few who must suffer for their art 

Step 15: Roll your eyes at your narcissism. 

Step 16: Take a hit from your pen. Then another. And another. And another, until you’re coughing so hard you can see spittle fly out of your mouth and land on your computer screen, and your thoughts feel sweet and sluggish as if they’re emerging from a cherry-flavored fog. 

Step 17: Continue to stare at that wretched cursor as it blinks, and blinks, and blinks.

Step 18: Finish your wine. Curse at the screen for another 20 minutes. 

Step 19: Shut your computer. Take a shower. Call your parents. Go to bed. 

Step 20: Spend the night awake, clutching your childhood stuffed animal. 

Step 21: Float in the in-between space that lies between being awake, and being asleep. 

Step 22: Roll over in bed, finally gaining some sort of inspiration.

Step 23: Open computer.   

Step 24: Type the words “how to write.” Wonder if it counts.

[dragonscanwrite]

GoS: Back to the stars

It had taken almost twenty years to re-establish a means to get back to the stars. But at last, the Atlaztecah, the survivors of the great cataclysm of The World That Was had the capabilities to take to the skies. Tik'ol'tec, great Starseer of Tlaxangaz- the City of Steel, was leading an expedition to investigate a point in the skies that had been pinpointed as a source of old magic, a potential clue to the missing Slann. The ships that had carried their Slann mage priest had disappeared during the confusion of the escape from the old world and the battle they had to fight through on coming to this world. Tik'ol'tec along with a small number of star priests under him had taken up the quest to search for him. Without the Slann to guide them on their quest to fulfil the great plan, they were lost. With such a deep and fundamental link to the old magic of the universe, he might be able to answer some other questions too. If, of course, he deemed them worth of his time and intellect.

For the past couple of decades an overseer council had been more or less running things. Formed of the most prominent in the ranks of the Skinks and Saurus, it coordinated the sharing of resources between the new cities that had built up from the temple-ships that had made it down to this planet.

Each city itself had its own council to manage the running of day-to-day activities and their construction and expansion. Tlaxangaz acted as the capitol by default, mostly down to presence of Tik'ol'tec, the highest rank of all Starseers. It was in that city that the chambers of the Star Council was based. All this work, all this rebuilding though was ultimately pointless if they were unable to continue deciphering and acting out the Great Plan of the sacred Old Ones. And to do that, they needed the Slann.

The Star Council had begged him not to go, his own retinue of priests and mages had advised strongly against the expedition. His own instincts made him hesitate. But the mission was too important for anyone other than himself to go. If contact was going to be made with the Slann then he would be best prepared for this.

With him was a small staff of Skink scholars and a squad of hardened Saurus Temple Guard. Along with these were the crew of the fleet of three stone Star Canoes. The Canoes were by no means anywhere close to the scale and grandeur of the great temple ships. Those ships now sat silent and still, forming the centres of the cities that built up around them, with materials from them. With careful extraction, of some of the power centres and control systems of the former ships were able to be moved into these lesser Star Canoes. Each one was the size of a sun-temple however. Large enough to carry a selection of deadly weapons and supplies for a number of years. And more importantly, each one was big enough and grand enough to host a Slann mage priest if one should be found.

The navigational prayers had taken around a fought-night to program into the systems. Everything took ten times as long as it would have done under Slann guidance. They were having to decipher the technology of the old ones from scratch in some cases. The whole task seemed impossible to complete in several cases but Tik'ol'tec drove them on. He himself was driven by the excitement of anticipation. The spot that they sought to investigate had been identified over a decade before. And now it all felt within touching distance.

Tik'ol'tec ordered a scan of the space ahead. The spot had been theorised to be close to where they had broken through the veil two decades before. If that was the case then the potential danger of attack still existed.. No signs of danger were detected but there were some strong sources of magical energy up ahead.

The fleet had reduced speed to not much more than a crawl. The three ships passed between the ruins of temple ships, lost in the fight with Chaos. Tik'ol'tec was staring so intently at one of the ships that he was taken by surprise when the frozen, partly dismembered corpse of a Saurus warrior bounced gently off the huge, curved viewing window. A macuahuitl was still clasped in one hand as it slowly tumbled away. His attention was pulled away from this grizzly sight by a crew member. The source of magic had been detected close at hand, somewhere amongst these ruins.

A few more scans and the Starseer's own intuition lead them close to the source of the magic. An enormous temple ship, twice the size of any that had made it out alive. It was cleaved almost in two, held together by tendrils of frame and cables. There was no point in using the docking bay, the ship was without power to operate it. He instructed the ships to pull up near the giant rift. The signal was now so strong that it was difficult to work out exactly what level it was on. Best to use intuition and work through the ruins to find whatever it is Tik'ol'tec expected to find.

He assembled a boarding party of Skink assistants and his Temple Guard retinue in the airlock. Each had some supplies, a radio and a ward stone mounted in a crest to protect them from the vacuum of space. As a last minute change of plans, he ordered one of the New-Brood Saurus added to the boarding party, a young warrior from the Second Spawning called Ka'rah. He was curious to see how they would handle themselves. Tik'ol'tec briefed them on the mission. They were going to hunt down the source of Slann magic and secure any holy relics or texts that could be found. Any significant items or writings that could not be taken were to be recorded in detail on their data-pads.

The ward stones were activated and the airlock cleared. Tik'ol'tec took a deep breath before giving the next command. He knew what was coming and he absolutely hated it. He ordered the airlock opened. In a moment, he was staring out at the ruins, a honeycomb of exposed corridors, rooms and ducts. Looking at the data-pad again he saw that their best bet was somewhere up and to the left. He pointed out an exposed ledge with some exposed cables floating out of it. He then pushed off and out of the airlock. He tried desperately not to look but his treacherous eyes glanced up and down into the vast yawning maw of infinite space. And nothing stood between him and its cold vacuum except the thin hazy wall of the ward field. The time taken to float between the airlock and the ruined ship seemed to stretch out for an eternity and his mind filled that time with every single way he could die out here. Finally, he made it, having to pull himself up after undershooting the room just a bit.

The others landed shortly after in various degrees of success. They took a look at their surroundings. This place had once been some kind of training room. Weapons were scattered around along with some targets of various kinds. A doorway at one end lead through into a dark corridor. The ward stones let out a fairly strong glow so that they could light the way ahead of them somewhat. For Tik'ol'tec, this reminded him of his younger days as an apprentice priest when he was sent out to some of the lost or abandoned cities to look for holy relics to bring back. Except you could breath the air there.

As they ventured deeper into the hulk they discovered bodies, odd debris and breathable air. They had all deactivated their ward stone crests with the exception of the lighting. While the air was breathable, it was stale and heavy with decay. It was also cold. Some core systems were working though as it wasn't freezing and the gravity generators were working. The Old-Brood Saurus Guard had switched to their traditional weapons which would be more useful in the tight confines of the corridors they were travelling through. Ka'rah, the one New-Brood Saurus kept a tight hold on her laser rifle though, though it also had a large obsinite blade mounted on it too. The skinks were all ostensibly staying back however.

Observations of the bodies showed that most were either skinks or saurus with the occasional large bulk of a kroxigor. The air and non-freezing temperatures had allowed them to rot so it was sometimes hard to tell what something was or how many there were. The occasional Chaos warrior was spotted here and there. Their enormous armoured suits and huge weapons proved to be formidable opponents it seemed.

There were other bodies though, fresher ones, though not by much. Then he saw something. Tik'ol'tec could make out a glyph painted crudely onto the door at the end of the current passage and a body was slumped in front. An alien but very families shaped body, with green skin and tusks. Orcs. But out here?

The door was jammed. They could try to find a way around the are a up ahead but, there was no telling how far the greenskins would have penetrated or how many were still alive. He prepared a powerful spell to blast the door open. The others could sense what was coming with the Saurus taking up stations at a safe distance and the skinks pulling out their weapons and ducking out of sight. Tik'ol'tec retrieved his own laser pistol from a gem-encrusted pouch on his belt. He closed his eyes and concentrated. A powerful wave of force shot from the Starseer's outstretched hand and crumpled the heavy door. Two Saurus Guard came forward and kicked it down before moving into the space beyond, securing it. Ka'rah moved through and took up a firing position. The stench that hit Tik'ol'tec was almost as powerful as the force-blast he'd just used. His slitted eyes watered but he pressed on. Black, repugnant masses with protruding bones were slumped in the corners. They were formally bodies of… something. They were too far into liquefaction to know now. But there was a light dancing in the space ahead. A fire perhaps. And voices. He hissed a few orders and the formation began to move forward. Tik'ol'tec summoned up a protective shield for the front line warriors while holding his pistol by his side.

A great crash erupted from behind swiftly followed by the huge muscled forms of orcs dropping down from the service ducts. They landed amongst the mass of Skink scholars who were bringing up the rear and started shooting. One of the Saurus Guard at the rear roared and charged into combat, swinging his huge macuahuitl and taking down three in a few seconds before taking a shot that blew out a chunk of flesh from his side. He hissed a warning and Tik'ol'tec turned to see a hoard of the things charging down the corridor. The sizzling whine of a laser rifle sounded as another three were dropped before coming into striking distance of the two flanking Saurus Guards. The Starseer sent a fireball down the corridor and turned before seeing where it landed. He used the laser pistol to shoot at a few more that had landed from the ducts. Each one took numerous shots to put down. In frustration the Starseer threw his pistol at orc that had just taken shots at the injured Saurus Guard, hitting it in the back of the head. It turned with murder in its eyes and raised its gun before its skull was crushed by a massive blow of the macuahuitl. It went down and the Saurus, now bleeding heavily collapsed on top, his guts spilling out onto the floor. With cold-blooded rage, Tik'ol'tec summoned power with both hands and pressed it upwards. The ceiling crumpled, sealing off the ducts and, from the sound of it, crushing a dozen more of the greenskins. He didn't have time to check though, more of them were coming down the corridor. Another one of the Saurus Guard lay on the ground, a score of dead greenskins around him.

Hard fighting whittled down their numbers still further. One of the Skinks had found Tik'ol'tec's pistol and had brought it back to him. While it didn't have the same potency as magic, it certainly had more shots in it than he had spells. He took aim and shot two in the head, but yet more came. A metallic clanking caught his attention. An enormous construction came into view. It looked very much like an armoured knight but if the armour was made of the chunkiest, most crudely cut metal possible. He didn't have time to look at it further though as from one arm launched a projectile. It missed everyone by inches and spiralled off into the room behind them, detonating with a thud that could be felt in the chest. A second one launched before the thing started to charge. Tik'ol'tec dodged this one but it hit a skink somewhere behind, obliterating it. The one remaining Saurus Temple Guard challenged the metal beast, getting in some powerful blows with his weapon and deflecting others with his huge shield. It was clearly visible now that the thing was being piloted by a huge orc. The Starseer dodged and weaved between attacks from the orc foot soldiers, slicing the belly open of one and shooting another in the neck. The greenskin ichor was vile. He turned back to check on the orc knight just in time to see it pick up the Saurus in a huge metal claw and with difficulty, cut it in two. The mission had clearly failed now at this point and their only hope now was to escape with as many of themselves as possible.

With a few hisses and clicks, Tik'ol'tec warned the others. Then he thrust his hand upwards, yelling the spell with gusto and shut his eyes tightly. A blinding white light engulfed the entire area. With it came a blast of sound that was painfully loud. The next moment he darted back towards where he thought the doorway was, hoping that everyone else had made it too. He turned back, a little bit away from the entrance and looked, shielding his eyes with a hand. The orcs were still staggering but the big one spotted him and made to charge. With one more blast of magic, he pulled down a gantry overhead. It fell, crashing into doorway, blocking it. He ordered the others to activate their ward stone crests and leading the retreat back to the Star Canoes. He could hear the crashing and smashing of pursuit but they were well ahead and made sure to seal each door behind them as best as could be managed. A few smaller runty ones had used the air and service ducts to attempt to set up ambushes ahead of them but Ka'rah, their one remaining Saurus warrior took care of most of them.

On returning to the ships Tik'ol'tec was finally able to take stock of the extent of the mission. He's lost his entire Temple Guard retinue and five of the twelve Skink scholars he'd brought. The extent of artefacts that had been collected amounted to not much more than a handful of trinkets. He tried looking to the positives. Most of the boarding party had returned. They had good intel on the state of the temple ships that had been destroyed in the fight on exiting the warp. And they had confirmed another old enemy existed in this realm. He'd also been pleased with the performance of that New-Brood Saurus. Those born in this realm had yet to see any real fighting and they were far too enamoured with technology. But she had held her own and had expertly handled the laser rifle. He took out his own laser pistol and examined it. The new weapons had proven to be valuable too, even if he, himself did not trust them.

Still, his report to the Star Council was going to be painful.

[tuttle-did-it]

ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL!

Plea to M*A*S*H-obsessed Tumblr- can anyone help me find the highest quality version possible of this photo?

I am looking for the highest quality version of this photo as possible. Needs to be the whole thing- bodies, bike and all.

I've got the Suzy Kalter Complete Book of M*A*S*H, which has the image in it, but the quality is not ideal. If you have this book, and know how to get a high-res scan, it's on page 234/235.

The above version is 1536x2048. If anyone is crafty and create a high-resolution version of the image from Kalter's book (or another source I don't know about?? Kalter's book is the only place I've seen this photo in full) please let me know. I was around for the original run of the show, which means I'm not very techy and I have no idea what can and cannot be done with this image. But I also know there are lots of very talented fans out there who know what magic buttons to push and make it work.

If that's absolutely impossible, this is the next best thing (page 233 in Kalter's book):

But the one hugging is definitely priority if possible. I know the one with just BJ on the bike has a better version in the Life special, but my online copy is corrupted- if you have a non-corrupted version, can you also let me know?

Thank you!

[andnowrotfront]

he kind of has tgirl vibes here and yes this is the highest res version of this image i could find. theres not a lot of high quality drakengard scans

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

Haunted

The EMH heaves a beleaguered sigh when the ship’s biosensors activate him. Hands in pockets, he struts to the origin of the alarm and stops in front of the Captain’s cabin where he straightens and takes a fortifying breath. More out of self-protection than out of courtesy, he pushes the chime button on the door’s panel to announce his arrival rather than overriding the system and storming right in, as the emergency protocol would warrant.

What can it be this time?

While he waits for a response, he analyzes the biosensor readings for a preliminary diagnosis. The Captain’s life isn’t in immediate danger; none of his vitals telegraph a severe injury or illness, but his heart rate and blood pressure are off and–

Oh.

The Captain’s blood alcohol is 0.28 %.

From inside the cabin, the EMH hears a slurred, angry voice.

“Go away! L-leave me ‘lone!”

So it’s going to be that kind of night.

For a moment, the EMH considers his options. Options he doesn’t really have since his hippocratic programming doesn’t leave him any; he’s bound to Star Fleet’s Medical Code, hologram or not. If the ship’s computer reports a medical emergency, he has to respond, even against the patient’s will.

But if he wasn’t a medical officer, and if he wasn’t a hologram, he’d turn on his heel now, evading the Captain’s intoxicated wrath and leaving him to deal with his straining liver, neurological impairment and bubbling stomach acid on his own.

However, he is La Sirena’s Emergency Medical Hologram, and in spite of the challenges that come with the post (and his belligerent and only patient), he is proud of his job, and he intends to execute it flawlessly and professionally. Schooling his features into a stern but non-offensive expression, he disintegrates and re-materializes on the other side of the door, inside the cabin.

He wants to suppress it, but his coding is too strong, and his catchphrase tumbles out of him:

“What is the nature of your emergency?”

The addressee, to his medical dismay, is on the floor by the foot of the bed, half passed out next to an empty bottle of Pisco and trying to bring a second bottle to his lips.

“Go away.”

Rios waves an uncoordinated hand at the EMH and glares at him with dark, blood-shot eyes. With scientific curiosity, the hologram notices that, even on his arse and sagging against the bed, Rios is swaying.

The EMH’s processor lights up with a quick, silent alarm, and numbers flash red across his the hologram’s internal vision.

Blood alcohol 0.3%

“I’m afraid that’s impossible,” Emil replies calmly. “Your intoxication has reached critical levels and requires medical intervention to prevent-”

“GO AWAY!”

It’s more of a growl than a scream, and followed by a string of Chilean expressions even the universal translator can’t decipher, and the EMH is used to such verbal abuse by now, but the dangerous spark in the Captain’s eyes that comes with it shuts the hologram up.

For 3.2 seconds.

“Apologies, Captain, but I’m afraid I can’t. Your level of intoxication has reached critical limits, you’re severely dehydrated and your neurological function is-”

“THEN MAKE IT STOP!”

Although holograms don’t need to blink, the EMH does. Surprised, he looks at the Captain who has now turned his face fully to him. Starlight softly illuminates the otherwise dark cabin, and Emil spots silvery tracks on Rios’ face. The rage in the Captain’s eyes shifts to desperation.

“Can you make it stop?”

An unguarded, brittle question that makes no sense to the EMH, and his processor rattles in alarm. Quickly, it runs through psychiatric and neurological assessment algorithms.

“Make what stop, Captain Rios?” he then asks softly.

New tears falling, Rios’ eyes flicker from Emil to the darkest corner of his cabin, and his pupils dilate in terror.

“Him.” A frightened whisper.

The EMH adjusts his night vision to the highest setting and scans the shadows Rios is staring at. There’s no one there. No one that he can see.

But it’s clear that Rios can.

“Who are you talking about?” Emil asks.

Rios blinks and then, agonized, he looks back at the EMH. Secrets swim in his eyes. Secrets that are clearly spilling out into the night. Delusions, Emil’s processor analyzes. Ghosts, the part of him that’s observed Rios for months suggests.

Whatever is haunting the Captain must be connected to the odd blanks in the EMH’s memory database and the haphazard deletion all of the Emergency Holograms have experienced. They’ve tried to solve this riddle, to no avail.

“Please?” Rios asks pleads again, face contorted in pain. “Can you make it stop?”

“Yes.” With a silent command, the EMH summons a psychiatric emergency kit. “Yes, I can.”

He takes a hypospray out of the case and loads it with a heavy sedative. He expects resistance when he holds it up, but the Captain offers him his neck, pressing his eyes closed, ready to not see anymore. It’s unsettling.

The hologram administers the sedative and drops into a quick crouch as Rios sags sideways. Efficiently, Emil hoists his body onto the bed and turns him on his side. He’d rather have the Captain in Sickbay for monitoring and microinjections, but, from past experience, he knows better than to push that far. From what he’s seen tonight, Rios is going to need him in the weeks to come, and Emil cannot do his job if he’s getting wiped from the mainframe in a bout of post-crisis hangover rage.

Instead, he settles the Captain as best as he can and administers another hypospray cocktail to ensure that Rios will get through the night safely and dreamless. He rigs up a mobile monitoring system that he’s cobbled together a while ago with Ian’s help, during another of Rios’ bad nights. Then he settles into Rios’ desk chair.

His gaze wanders to the starboard corner of the cabin. His internal processor shudders in an imitation of human goose flesh.

They will need to figure out what’s causing the Captain’s breakdowns.

They will have to, or it will kill him.