#so its like swapping out one issue for another

[tipytap]

debating getting mobility aids again

[wantonlywindswept]

another trope inversion of GAR/Guard interactions:

the GAR is entirely aware that Coruscant is a shit posting.

they're not blind; they can see all the anti-clone sentiment when they're on leave. even when they're deployed, it's not like they're cut off from all news - they know how many times bills for clone rights have gone to the Senate floor and been ruthlessly voted down. they can see how even their Jedi are restrained by the Senate dragging its feet and making bad choices and handling the war like it's a game of dejarik since it will never affect them personally.

very few politicians have the respect of the clones.

but the Guard still have to work with the spoiled, self-centered bastards, and the GAR knows that they're not being treated well. but what can they do? they have no rights, the Jedi are as trapped under the Senate's thumb as they are, and it's not like they can get regular citizens to do anything.

so they offer their support as much as they can. any Guard, any Corrie who needs help, all they have to do is find one of their brothers and it will be offered without any questions.

you'd think that crime rate would go up when battle-traumatized soldiers are given leave on a city-planet like Coruscant, but it actually goes down.

way down.

the thing criminals come to realize is that if you are being chased by one of the Guard, if ANY other clone catches sight of you, it is ON SIGHT. clones in casual clothes carrying food and drinks have dropped everything to immediately join a Guard's hunt, throwing themselves into the pursuit with glee and an energy that the usually-exhausted Guards often lack. (some of them howl. those, the criminal underground agrees, are the worst.) 

and with hundreds or thousands of clones wandering around during battalions' leave, it's possible to run into one of them anywhere. and they usually travel in packs.

best just to lay low for a while.

when it leaks that the Guard regularly run low on supplies, all sorts of things start to go missing on the venators. just a box or a crate here or there, ration packs or bacta patches or cold-weather gear. there are millions of clones and thousands of ships; it's not like every little thing can be tracked by the quartermasters. 

(rex realizes that, for whatever reason, his battalion is always prioritized for resupply, and rarely any questions are asked about their requisitions. rex takes immediate and shameless advantage of this. rex manages, somehow, to lose two entire bacta tanks, along with the bacta to fill them.)

and ofc the idea that started this whole ramble - when a shiny Corrie stumbles somewhere where some of the 501st are shooting the shit, causing everything to immediately come to a halt. the kid is clutching his helmet and one of his pauldrons to his chest; his hair is mussed up and there are tears on his cheeks and bruises on his face and unadulterated panic in his eyes. 

there's an angry call in the corridor.

the shiny flinches.

fives grabs him, hears him squeak, snaps out orders. echo yanks off his bucket and his upper armor; jesse lunges for a blanket. they hustle the kid into a chair, drape the blanket over his lower body, hastily swap his upper armor and helmet for echo's. fives shoves the armor somewhere, doesn't matter, it's out of sight with the telltale red, and they all barely have enough time to drop themselves back into the chairs arranged around the table and pick up their cards before some natborn stomps into the room.

anything we can do for you, sir? sorry, no, the Guard didn't stop in here. we saw him head back down toward the rotunda, though. yes, sir. have a nice day, sir.

they close and lock the door. fives goes back to the shiny. fives was instantly prepared to help a fellow clone in need.

fives was not prepared for tears.

the kid gets snot all over the inside of echo's helmet. they take him back to Guard HQ. fox is painfully, desperately relieved to see him. fox looks too-thin and too-tired but there is a fresh GAR-issued bacta patch covering a slash across the side of his cheek. he thanks them for saving the shiny, like that's something that ever needs gratitude, but is swept away before any of them can say that. 

fives doesn't think that misplaced bacta and pilfered rations are enough support for the Guard anymore.

thankfully, rex and the rest of the GAR agree.

[nrnyx]

Prompt: Can’t go wrong with a body swap scenario 

Thank you @imtryingandtired for the prompt! I hope you enjoy!

“Scott, we have a problem!” 

Scott's eyebrows did a thing that would have made Derek proud. “What? A bigger problem than the fact your body swapped with Derek.”

“I gotta pee,” Stiles rushed to say as he hopped from foot to foot. 

Scott's puppy face scrunched up with a mix of confusion and concern. “Why is that a problem? Does Derek have like a… medical condition? Does it burn or -”

“What, no! No!” Stiles cut in with a furious wave of his surprisingly soft but equally masculine hands. He lowered Derek’s voice even more so those in the next room wouldn’t hear him. “I just - what do I do, man? I have to, like, take it out and…”

“You mean you haven’t yet?” Scott asked in genuine surprise. 

“Of course, I haven’t, dumbass! What do you take me for? I would never take advantage of anyone's so very hot, like insanely hot and tempting body - temporarily mine or not.”

Scott threw up his hands in surrender. “Sorry! I’m sorry, I just - you haven't even looked?”

“No!” Stiles exclaimed, stomping Derek’s foot. “Help me!”

Scott looked around as if an answer was hiding somewhere. “I - I don’t know man, maybe asked Derek?”

“Ask Derek what?” Came Stiles's voice even though it wasn’t Stiles speaking. “What have you been doing to my body, Stiles?” It was amazing how Derek managed to make Stiles's eyebrows move in ways Stiles had never managed himself. He didn’t know his face could scowl like that. He didn’t know he had the muscles for it. 

Stiles, who was in Derek’s amazing body right now, closed his gorgeous eyes in defeat. Derek seriously had the longest eyelashes. He was never going to hear the end of this. 

Scott began to chuckle uncomfortably as he rubbed the back of his neck helplessly and waved a hand at Stiles. “That’s the problem he won’t do anything to it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Derek asked, crossing Stiles’s arms over his chest. It was so weird seeing Derek’s expressions on Stiles's face, although the stance was missing its usual impact due to the severe lack of big, beefy muscles to back it up.

Stiles pinched the bridge of - Derek’s perfectly symmetrical nose and decided just to bite the bullet or risk worse embarrassment if he didn’t figure out his dilemma soon. “I have to pee.”

Derek’s - Stiles's eyebrows nearly shot into his hairline. “So go pee.” 

Stiles felt Derek’s all too tempting mouth fall open with his own shock. “I - I mean… it doesn’t bother you?” 

Stiles watched his own slender shoulders shrug, although Derek couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m more worried about the state of my bladder, to be honest. How long have you been holding it?” 

Stiles felt Derek’s cute ears go red in embarrassment, and wasn’t that a weird feeling? Now, not only did he know what Derek looked like when he blushed, but he knew how it felt as his adorable ears grew warm. “A while, I guess. I was trying to respect boundaries. I mean… I wasn’t sure - have you?” 

Stiles now knew what he looked like when he blushed. Was it always so obvious? 

“Oh,” Stiles said, feeling himself turn even redder, and he wondered if it was as visible on Derek’s darker skin as it was on his own pale skin. So Derek had touched his… Stiles couldn’t think about that right now, but it figured the first time another hand, even though it was technically his very familiar hand, had been on his dick, he wouldn’t be there to experience it. 

This was such a weird situation. 

It wasn’t like Stiles had anything to be embarrassed about. He was rather… endowed. It was sort of a thing he was known for, a rumor that followed him around school, even though he was still a virgin, so no one but the guys in the locker room could confirm it. 

Derek cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I didn’t realize it would be an issue. I’m sorry if I overstepped -“

“No! No!” Stiles protested before Derek could feel bad about it. If a guy had to pee, he had to pee. “I don’t have a problem with it. You’ve got full permission to do whatever you want with my body,” Stiles joked, trying to break the weird tension. He knew how much consent meant to Derek, which was why he’d been so hesitant in the first place. “I just thought that you might have an issue with me, uh… handling it.”

Derek just looked at him. “If you need permission, then this is me saying you can pee.” 

Stiles breathed a sigh as Derek’s big, broad, amazing shoulders sagged in relief. “Oh, thank god, do you maybe want to come help?”

“Are you asking me to hold it for you? With your hands?” Derek deadpanned, and did Stiles really look that bitchy when he was being sarcastic? He could see why people always felt the urge to hit him.

“I - I Just mean, do you?”

Derek looked at him with exasperation. “Stiles, go pee!” 

Stiles jumped into action. “Yeah, okay, do you like… want to come with -” 

“Stiles!” 

[dullgecko]

Have a fun little 'Riz is in college and a fucking MENACE to all the right people' story

-----------------

Coffee goblin uploads a new video to his blog, most people who follow the blog dont know his name because he's never actually said it and it's not like he's often having conversations with people (sure, the half-elf thats in a lot of his streams calls him The Ball but that's certainly just a nickname. The goblins in his forest-walk-and-foraging videos are probably calling him by his name but they're never speaking in common, just Ghukliak, and it's pretty hard to pick out names among all the goblin chittering). Its different than his usual videos because he's actually in frame, rather than behind whatever camera he's always using and he looks pretty serious.

"Look, I know i've turned down a LOT of job requests from you guys lately but there's a reason for it." He brandishes a stack of papers at the camera. "You want me to look into why all these frat members have disappeared or dropped out of school so I thought i'd illuminate all of you as to what happened so you'd stop asking."

The video smash cuts to a goblins POV at a party, the camera catching one of the frat bros that had dropped out sneakily dropping a powder into a girls drink when she wasn’t looking. Then cuts to another, and another, until there are a dozen different guys all caught on video doing exactly the same thing over and over again at parties all over campus.

"Don't worry, none of those girls actually drank any of those." A quick series of shots of drinks getting slapped out of hands, stolen, or swapped out for non-drugged versions by tiny green, scarred hands. “But I take issue with incel losers trying to take advantage of people like that so I did something about it.”

The video cuts again, this time the coffee goblin seems to be climbing the outside of one of the frat houses. Getting up onto the roof easily and clambering silently over to a skylight which he uses his claws to pop the latch on before hopping inside. An arm coming up into the view of the camera as he lifted his forearm, the hand already encased in a glove so as not to leave fingerprints, as a small torch beam from his watch illuminating the space.

“Okay kids, today we’re in the Phi Gamma Omega house and THIS-“ He sweeps the torch light across an impressive collection of potion making equipment, arcane machinery and a haphazard collection of boxes and barrels of components. “-is a straight up drug operation.”

The hand disappears for a second, the light apparently coming from some other source now that seems to move around with his head outside of the frame. The camera itself clearly clipped onto his chest somewhere since it doesn’t exactly follow the movement of the circle of light coming from behind it.

It’s almost too quick to follow what he’s doing but he sweeps through the entire place like a shadow, every box and its contents getting caught on camera before its all put back exactly how it was when he found it.

“Okay, I can confidently say this is an ILLEGAL drug operation now. From the components and setup we’ve got here I’d say they’re manufacturing sleeping draughts, aphrodisiacs, and paralysis potions. ALL of which require a licence to make and I can guarantee you not a single person in this house has that, I already checked.”

He stalked further into the attic space, finding a small collection of arcane machines plugged in on the far wall and humming away quietly. “And even if they DID have a licence to make those individual components, it’s SUPER illegal to then mix them together and dehydrate it into a powder.”

A hand came up to pull open the front door of one of the dehydrators, coffee goblin getting in close so the thick, not quite completely dehydrated slurry on a tray was caught on camera before he popped it closed again.

“Anyway, all of this is pretty obvious BUT we need proof of who is actually making all this shit so we’re going to sit and wait and hopefully catch them on camera so they can’t argue it was just ONE of them involved and that no-one else knew. So forgive me if the next section of this recording is a bit dry and boring.”

The camera pans around the room as the goblin turns in place before settling for a good spot up in the rafters near one corner. The rogue clambering up into the tight space and shifting until the camera had a good shot of the entire room before going still. The footage is then sped up, thirty, forty, one hundred times until figures enter the attic and start zipping around making new potions, unloading and reloading the dehydrators, smashing up what had already been dehydrated into a powder and portioning it into bags before everyone left. The sun had come up and set again in the time they were up there, evident by the sunbeam tracking across the floor, but eventually the goblin clambered down and left back out the skylight they’d entered in. Every single member of the household had wandered through the attic at some point during their stakeout and it was clear as day on the footage.

Suddenly the footage snapped back to the coffee goblin in his dorm room, looking very serious as he leaned in closer to the camera.

“So, there. You have your answers as to what happened to that Fraternity. I happened and I will keep happening if I see any evidence of this shit going on in this campus again. Understand? And just a warning, not all of them simply dropped out.”

[tainbocuailnge]

fgo is backpedalling on a feature for the first time lmao they'd expanded the append skill system to add one that increases crit damage and one that lowers the cooldown of the first use of each skill(!) but they all still cost the same amount of super rare servant exclusive currency so if you want to unlock them all you need to roll 8 copies of your bond 15 5* servant AND also not have used their excess coins on the feature they'd already introduced to turn spare coins (that now retroactively are not spare) into grails

compensation is 120 quartz (lol) and promising they're going to refund all the coins you put into grails (which they tracked apparently?) (why not retroactively hand out coins for amount of storylocked 3* then) and make it possible to swap levels from one append skill to another (bandaid solution to the real problem being that this coin system is bogus gacha bait to begin with) (they'd promised servant-independent coins ages ago)

i do think it's interesting that this is evidently where fgo players are collectively drawing the line and making enough noise that lasengle actually has to backpedal on it. I don't have any hard statistics on player activity but my anecdotal experience is that fgo is bleeding players at this point so I wonder if they'd still have backpedalled (and with such a sizeable sum of quartz) if player retention wasn't as much at risk lately. pulling out so many collaboration characters in an unusually short timespan and an incredibly long anticipated unit like summer ereshkigal with a literal affection meter mechanic and anti-ntr features that make it so you can never use her optimally if you don't roll her yourself feels like a real desperate move on their part to get people to come back. hey you left fgo to play real games like samrem and mahoyo and tsukire right look we have water saber and aoko and ciel please come back!!

fgo has been running into the limits of its fairly basic gameplay engine for years and rolling out various bandaid systems to pretend to add more depth for as many years without addressing the real issues but since there's so many other fate games getting (re)releases lately people have less reason to care about fgo specifically, because they can just pay for one of those other games once and have a complete story experience without having to do time-limited chores about it. I joked about oberon killing fgo earlier but I think realistically it's the combination of lb6 being a story high they haven't been able to reach again + samrem releasing and mahoyosweep picking up around when people were realizing fgo wasn't gonna reach that same high again. there's less and less reason to stick with fgo because there's real complete games coming out that will give you a very similar story experience and won't make you do various time-limited chores about it

ideally this will scare lasengle into making more intensive changes but they've been so stubbornly blind to the actual problems with the game for so long I'm not counting on them actually fixing those

[malereadermaniac]

Bug-a-boy ~ Luka & Adrien x Male Reader

Idk about this one... but I wanted to write it. Basically a miraculous holder reader x adrien and luka College Au: Luka - 19 / Adrien - 18 / Reader - 18 word count: 1.2k m!reader (no genitalia mentioned) / FDNI

Your college class is huge

But it's to be expected, you do go to the most popular college in Paris

You share the class with a group of friends that came from Francoise Dupont

Luckily, the groups appointed leader befriended you pretty early into the year

Marrientte Dupain-cheng was the kindest girl you knew

And her friends: Alya, Nino, Adrien and Sabrina weren't too bad either

Actually, you liked them a lot, and you were glad that they wanted to be friends with you

There was also this other guy from the year above, Luka

You didn't talk to him much, but the others were fond of him

But the few times you two did talk, he was nothing but calm and welcoming

All in all, you love your college and your friends

However...

The one setback to coming to Paris for school, was the Akuma's

After Hawk-moth's fall, a new owner of the Butterfly miraculous came to power

But to counteract that, Paris has its own team of Miraculous bearers

The only problem was, currently, Paris has no ladybug...

During a massive fight against a very powerful, akumatized villain, Ladybug was hit, and her powers disappeared

Well, not literally, she remained transformed, however the villains power made it as if she were a regular adult wearing a superhero costume...

After sending Chat Noir, Rena Rouge and Viperion off to distract the villain, a now powerless Ladybug was running over to your college

After swapping out her miraculous from the Ladybug to another one, "Ladybug" finds you, hidden inside of a locker

"AHHHH! ANOTHER VILLAIN!" You shout, not recognising Ladybug with a new miraculous

"Not quite, (y/n)" she chuckles

"It's me, Ladybug. But my miraculous has been rendered useless..."

"Oh... I'm so sorry, Ladybug, wish I could help you somehow" you sympathise

"There is." Ladybug looks into your eyes with determination

"(Y/n) (L/n), here is the miraculous of the Ladybug, it offers the power of creation. I entrust you with this miraculous to fulfill my role while I can't, after that, you're to return these earrings to me - understood?" Ladybug explains with a grin

"Yes, Ladybug! I won't disappoint you"

After putting on the earrings the kwamii appears, explains the whole shtick and you get going

"Tikki, Spots on!" You shout and then you're set

"Once I'm fixed by the miraculous ladybugs, I'll use the horse miraculous to teleport you back to me, okay?"

"Of course Ladybug!"

And you were off, using your yo-yo to swing around the streets of Paris until you reached the action

A now powerless Rena Rouge trying to distract the villain as Chat Noir and Viperion try to figure out a plan while fighting the thing

"What the fuck..." Chat mumbles when you catch his eye, waving at him in a coy manner from a roof top

Both men watch you, confused as you jump down to them

"Who are you? Where's Ladybug??" Viperion questions frantically

"She decided to pass her miraculous onto me for a little while until we solve this little issue"

"Fine by me as long as you know what you're doing, bug-a-boy" Chat noir slyly remarks as he leans on his pole

"Bug-a-boy... I like that" you giggle and then get to business

Immediately you call on your lucky charm

"Yep, defiantly a real Ladybug holder haha! What you gonna do with that bugg-a-boy" Chat noir laughs as you hold onto a seemingly useless looking lucky charm

"I do, actually!" You say with a smile

"Just follow my lead boys, if you can keep up" you chuckle as you use your yo-yo to swing into action

"Damn, that boy has more charisma than you Chat Noir" viperion chuckles

"He does, doesn't he..."

The two of them follow you quickly

"Rena! I'm gonna need you to get that thing under the arc-de-triumph!" You shout as you wizz past

"I'm on it"

"Viperion, once that villain" is under the Arc, use your second chance immediately please"

"Of course bug-a-boy" viperion smirks

Chat Noir looks at you smugly

You start to mark X's on the Arc using the bucket of paint your lucky-charm gave you

"I can see where this is going" the black cat chuckles

"Then you know when and where to use your cataclysm, kitty noir" you tease and spring into action when you see Rena Rouge and the villain coming your way

Once the villain is under the Arc, you use shout for Chat noir

He heads to one of the marks but before Chat can call his power, Viperion shouts

"Not that one! Try the one below it"

And so, once Chat Noir cataclysm's the Arc, it crumbles to pieces and buries the villain, one of the pieces crushing his akumatized item

"Bye bye little butterfly" you say with a chuckle, as the 3 other hero's watch you

The 2 men chuckling as a faint blush cover their faces

"Not a bad job for your first time, bug-a-boy"

"Do you really need to flirt with every Ladybug holder, Chat?" Rena jokes

"Yeah! Look at him, he's creeped out by you, he'd much prefer a snake over a cat" Viperion joins in

"What is up with you two"

"Haha, I like this team.... Miraculous Bug-a-boy!" You shout as you throw up the lucky-charm

5 seconds later, a portal appears next to you

"Good work, everyone!" A horse miraculous bearing Ladybug pops out

"Ladybug?!" Everyone questions

"Good job picking this one, Ladybug" Viperion chuckles as he puts an arm on your shoulder

"I look forward to seeing you soon again, mi'lord~" Chat Noir teases as he kisses your hand

"That's enough Chat Noir, you'll see him soon enough!" Ladybug chuckles as she brings you through the portal after your goodbyes

After handing back the miraculous, life went back to normal, except that Ladybug started to call on you more often, but with a different miraculous this time

Life at school was normal as always

However when you were out with the hero gang, you'd noticed Chat Noir and Viperion becoming cosier to you than they were to the others...

Like when Chat Noir started bringing you roses every time you were called on

Or one time, Viperion used his second chance to have "a perfect conversation" with you during patrol with you

You were flattered, but a little worried that the two were taking it too far

It had gotten to the point where the two of them were fighting, passive aggressive remarks and even disrupting fights against villains with their arguing

That was until Ladybug struck then a deal

"I will tell you his identity if you both stop this bickering, its becoming a problem. If you don't, I will take your miraculous"

Of course they both agreed

And that's when your school life changed as well

Because Adrien and Luka started bombarding you during your school day

Adrien already sat next to you in class, but during lunch Luka was on you like a snake to a rat

You were getting overwhelmed, but then again you loved the attention you were getting from them

After all, you hadn't ever had a boyfriend, this could be a nice change

Soon, the two of them started noticing that the other liked you

So they decided to combine their efforts

"Which one of us do you like the most!?!?" The two of them shout at you in frustration after weeks of trying to win you over

"I... I don't know! Okay?! I like you both... I don't wanna hurt one of you by rejecting you for the other"

"Then.... date us both?" Luka suggests with a smile

It took some convincing but the two of them managed to convince you

And life has been so much better since

[the-blind-assassin-12]

The Yule Lodge - Part One

A PEDROSTORIES SECRET SANTA GIFT FIC

A/N: As always, a big thank you to the moderators of @pedrostories for organizing this event! It's always a lot of fun and definitely helps put me in the holiday spirit every year. I can't wait to see what others have created for this event! This story kind of completely ran away from me, so as you can see, this is only the beginning. I hope my fic recipient doesn't mind, but it's looking like a three part story, which I'm aiming to get the rest of posted within the next few days. Now, if you'll all suspend disbelief with me, there's a very exclusive, high-end Bed & Breakfast I'd like you all to visit...

Gift Tag: SURPRISE @covetyou ! I was your Secret Santa for the Pedrostories gift swap! You gave me so many great prompts and ideas to run with, but the ones that stuck out most to me were "Magic is real" and "chaotic meet cute". Out of the characters that you listed, Ezra and Dieter seemed like likely candidates, and that's where my top secret anonymous ask where I made you choose emojis with no context came into play. You (blindly) choose Dieter, and I am so glad that you did because I have been having a blast writing this for you and I truly hope that you enjoy it! Wishing you a very Merry Christmas, the happiest of holiday seasons and only the best in the New Year, lovely!!

Warnings: brief mention of infidelity (not Dieter or Reader!) cannabis consumption, I think that's it for now ;)

Word Count: 5,416

Summary: Last minute holiday travel plans sure can be chaotic sometimes. In some cases, it can even seem as though there is some kind of supernatural intervention going on. But that's crazy... Right?

He wasn’t supposed to be here. 

Wherever the fuck here is. 

As the cab pulled up to its destination, Dieter rolled his forehead against the rear passenger side window to get a better view of the place, ignoring the way that the chill from the glass sunk into his skin. His eyes narrowed, then blinked wide as he took in the Dickensian looking Bed and Breakfast. 

Well it’s sure as shit not the Savoy. 

That was where he was supposed to be staying. That was where he had asked Cori, his assistant, to book him a suite from the 23rd to the 26th. That was where he had been planning to spend his Christmas, sprawled in a king sized bed wearing baggy pajama pants, devouring snowflake shaped THC infused sugar cookies, watching old movies and ordering room service until the holiday was good and over. Just like he’d done almost every year for the previous two decades. 

And to her credit, Cori had booked him that suite. She’d done it months ago, when she made the travel arrangements for the press tour that had brought him to London in the first place. He was there to promote Getaway Man - the must see action-thriller that was set to open worldwide on Christmas Day, and that was already receiving Oscar buzz - with two of his co-stars. They had both gone straight to the airport following the final round of interviews, though, anxious and eager to get back home in time for holiday celebrations with their families. But Dieter had planned to do just the opposite from the get go, so all he had to do was check out of one hotel, travel a few blocks, and check into another one. Cori had sent him receipts along with his itinerary, and his stay at the Savoy had been on both of them. 

It wasn’t a booking issue that caused the last minute switcharoo. Or, rather, it wasn’t an issue with the room that Dieter had booked. It actually had to do with another guest’s reservation - his ex-wife’s. Or, rather (again), it had to do with a reservation made by Anika’s new husband, fellow actor Mark Atlas. 

And people say my last name is bullshit. 

Anyway, apparently Mark found out that Dieter was going to be staying at the Savoy while he and Anika were also going to be there, and promptly threw a Hollywood sized hissy fit about the “optics” of the three of them spending Christmas under the same roof. Something about “not wanting to put Anika through the ordeal of being around Dieter.” As though he was the one who had shocked her by asking for the divorce. 

As though I was the one who cheated. 

It was far more likely that Map Man was worried about his sweet, innocent wife “accidentally” bumping into Dieter under the mistletoe in the middle of the night, than he was about putting her through anything. 

And for the record, even if she had tumbled into Dieter’s lap wearing nothing but a couple of strategically placed Christmas ribbons, he wouldn’t have done a damn thing about it. He wasn’t like Mark. He didn’t need - or want - to fuck someone else’s wife. 

No. This had nothing to do with Atlas looking out for Anika, and Dieter knew it. This was about Hollywood’s new favorite golden boy snapping his fingers and getting what he wanted at Dieter’s expense. Dieter’s body of work since the Cliff Beasts fiasco may have been award worthy, his performances lauded by critics and fans alike. But Mark Atlas had just signed on to a six movie deal in a superhero franchise that already had comic cons selling out despite the fact that he hadn’t been announced to the panel yet. The first film in the series hadn’t even been released but McDonald’s already had the fucking action figures in their goddamn happy meals. 

In short, Atlas was the bigger, shinier, more family friendly name at the moment. And in show business, the moment was all that mattered. 

So even though Dieter had checked into his room at the Savoy earlier that day without issue, and despite the fact that he’d already changed into his baggiest pair of pajama pants and shaggy green robe, the call from the front desk still came. It wasn’t a demand that he leave. It wasn’t even really a suggestion. The manager had simply stated that another guest expressed concern over the “possibility of a negative encounter with Dieter”, and asked if he would like to cancel his stay for a full refund, plus a complimentary three night stay at a time of his choosing. 

Good to know I’m still shiny enough that they didn’t want to piss me off entirely. 

He didn’t need to bother asking the manager which guest had expressed that particular concern. There was only one person Dieter could think of who both held that kind of sway, and disliked him enough to purposely derail his holiday. He knew it was Mark. 

Even though I have no idea why that fucker hates me so damn much. He fucking won. 

Though the thought of spitefully refusing to leave just to screw with Atlas was tempting, Dieter just wasn’t in the mood for a big dramatic debacle. And even though it hurt to know that Anika was seemingly fine with Mark’s treatment of him, he didn’t want to give in and invite the negative encounter that Mark was setting him up for. 

Instead, he told the manager that he’d check out as soon as he found a new hotel, and took the man up on the offer for a future stay. He then promptly texted Cori to fill her in on everything and crossed his fingers in hopes that she had some secret backup options up her sleeve. The fact that it was mere hours away from Christmas Eve in one of the world’s busiest cities made it a tall order, and he was aware of that. But Cori had proven time and time again that tall orders were her specialty, so Dieter was cautiously hopeful. 

When his phone rang in his hand a few minutes later, he ceased his pacing to answer it. 

“Cori?” He plopped down on the edge of the bed as he spoke, hardly holding back a groan at how goddamn comfortable the mattress was. Can’t believe I don’t even get to sleep on it. “Please tell me you found something else.” He flopped all the way back, sinking into the down-filled duvet. Oh, fuck you, Mark. “I really don’t want to have to come back to-“ 

“Actually,” an unfamiliar female voice cut him off. “My name is Ivy, Mr. Bravo. I work for Cori. She asked me to handle finding you a new place to stay since she flew home yesterday to be at her son’s-“ 

“School holiday show.” Dieter mumbled, covering his eyes and scrubbing his hand back over his forehead and into his hair. Fuck, I knew that. “Yeah, that’s right, she told me.” 

It had come up a few times as the press tour was winding down, the woman clearly looking forward to being able to be there for her kid’s performance. Though that kind of life was about as far from his own as he could imagine, Dieter admired the way that Cori prioritized being present for her kids as much as possible. He knew that being with her family made her happy, so he was glad that that’s where she was. But wait…

“Hang on.” Dieter propped himself up on one elbow. “I didn’t know Cori had anyone working for her.” She’d been his assistant for over ten years, and he never once heard her mention the name Ivy. Not that she wouldn’t need help. I’m not always the easiest. 

She let out a silver-bell laugh, the sound high and tingling. “Well that’s because I’m good at what I do, and so is Cori. Usually I get to stay behind the scenes, but this was a-” 

“A clusterfuck?” Dieter supplied, slumping back down again. 

“I was going to say a special case.” She laughed again. “Trust me, I’ve seen fuckier clusters.” 

He wasn’t sure if that was supposed to make him feel better or not, nor was he sure if it actually did. Switching the phone to speaker and laying it on his chest, he crossed both arms over his eyes. “Does that mean you have a backup place for me?” He crossed his fingers as he waited for her response. 

“It does, Mr. Bravo, I-” 

“You can just call me Dieter, Ivy. Actually, please just call me Dieter. And-” Her words clicked then, and he bolted up to both elbows, sending his phone sliding down to his stomach. “Wait, did you say yes?”

“I did,” Ivy confirmed. Fuck yeah! “But it’s a little unconventional.” 

Dieter sat all the way up, reaching for his phone before it could fall between his legs and down to the floor. Lifting it level with his mouth, he cocked his head to the side. “What does that mean?”

Ivy cleared her throat. “It’s not a hotel, per say.” Okay… “More like a high end, exclusive bed and breakfast. And technically it’s just outside the city.” 

Dieter grimaced, clunking the edge of his phone to his forehead. A bed and breakfast? Like… With other people? And shared common rooms and… He considered his other option - flying back to L.A. and going home to his empty house - and the grimace deepened. “How exclusive is exclusive?” 

“Pretty private. The place is an old Victorian mansion. It accommodates guests in four suites, but I was told that only one other room is booked at the moment.” 

He sighed, bringing his phone back down to his lips. I guess this is the best I can hope for. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” Ivy questioned. “Does that mean I should go ahead and call them?” 

Dieter dropped his phone into the fluffy bedding beside him. “Yes. Please.” He stood, rubbing at one eye. “And can you also call me a car? I don’t-” 

“Of course,” she answered. “Consider it done.” 

“Great.” It was far from great, but it would have to do. “I really appreciate it, Ivy.” That part was 100% true. 

“My pleasure! I’ll go ahead and communicate with the Savoy staff, too, that way everyone is on the same page. Oh, and I’ll update Cori, of course.” 

“Perfect.” Again, it wasn’t. Perfect was the thread count of the sheets he was leaving behind. Perfect was the five-star service he wouldn’t be receiving. Perfect was the way the champagne chiller always had ice in it and the towels were always warm and fluffy. But it beats the shit out of going home. “Thank you.” 

“Of course. Hopefully you won’t need me again, so I’ll wish you a Merry Christmas now.” 

“Um, yeah.” Dieter sniffed. “Yeah, Merry Christmas. I’ll uh…” He raised his arms and then dropped them to his sides. “I’ll try not to offend the other guest with my presence so I won’t have to bother you again.” 

“Never a bother, Dieter. I’m always happy to help when you need it.” 

With that, she ended the call, and Dieter was left to gather his things and wait for the car to come pick him up and bring him to the secret, backup, break-in-case-of-clusterfuck location that Ivy had procured for him. 

Looking up at the place once he arrived and got out of the car, Dieter really wished he’d asked her a few more questions before telling her to make the call. 

Snowflakes fell slowly through the air as he stood there in his pajama pants with his thick, plush brown fleece pulled over his robe and his bag slung over his shoulder, staring at the sign affixed to the side of the building. “The Yule Lodge”, he read aloud, rolling his eyes at the stylized flame surrounding the name of the B&B, an obvious play on words. “Shit, that’s cheesy.” 

The building itself looked as though it only existed at Christmastime - the cornices catching the fresh snow in picture perfect banks, the candles illuminating the windows like something off a holiday card, garlands of greenery wrapped around the porch railing and draped over the doorway. So if any place was going to have a name that stunk of cheddar, he figured this was the one. I mean… He tilted his head to take the sight in. It’s festive as fuck, that’s for sure. 

Not that that part mattered. He still planned to spend the next few days sprawled out like a starfish in bed, waiting out the holiday. Even if it means doing it here. 

He turned to wave a thanks to the driver who had dropped him off, only to find that the car was gone. Huh? That’s weird, I didn’t hear the tires… He shrugged. Whatever. He’d already had one of the snowflake cookies before the whole Mark Atlas shitstorm started, so he chalked missing the car driving away up to that kicking in and giving him tunnel vision for the building’s campy signage. 

With a sigh that turned into a visible white puff in the chilly air, Dieter climbed the two small steps and reached for the door handle. Alright. Here we go. Combing one hand through his hair, he shook the snow from his curls, stepped inside, and looked around. Oh, holy shit. 

The B&B’s cheery exterior had nothing on the inside. 

Wreaths, garlands, and sprigs of greenery adorned walls, windows, railings and the carved, wooden mantel of a roaring fireplace that spread a warm, golden glow throughout the whole space. Deep red velvet ribbons added lush pops of color, as did the gilded candlesticks atop the mantel. A bowl of clove-studded oranges sat as the centerpiece of the coffee table in front of the fire, and the smell of spice and citrus wafted through the air to fully warm his senses. 

To top it all off, a towering spruce tree stood in the corner of the room, lit by dozens of lights that were made to look like candles. Bows and baubles dressed the evergreen’s branches to elegant but cozy perfection. In a way, it was difficult to imagine what the room would look like - or feel like - without all the holiday decorations. 

He may have been trying to avoid acknowledging Christmas as much as possible, but Dieter couldn’t help but admit that the staff there had outdone themselves. It was fucking beautiful. If you’re into that kinda thing.

“Welcome to the Yule Lodge, Mr. Bravo.” 

Suddenly, a voice greeted him from somewhere to his left, making him jump and turn towards the sound. What? Who said tha- Oh. He’d been too distracted by the elaborate decorations to realize that he’d walked straight past the front desk and the smiling woman standing behind it. Right. I need to check in. 

Clearing his throat, he crossed the room to stand in front of the desk. “Um, thanks-” He glanced down at the golden nameplate that was pinned to the woman’s green cardigan. “-Laurel.” He adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder and leaned on the counter. “I guess you spoke with Ivy?” 

Laurel nodded, her curls bouncing. “I did. We’ve got you all set in room two until the 26th.” 

“Great.” He flashed her a smile. “Do you need a credit card now, or do I just pay when I check out, or-” 

Laurel’s curls swung as she shook her head. “No need for that right now, Mr. Bravo.”

At check out, then. “Okay.” He tapped the countertop with his fingertips. “In that case, can I get the room key? I’m about ready to-”

“Of course!” Laurel spun around to grab a key from one of four hooks, one of which was empty. Guess that means the other guest is already checked in. She spun back, key in hand, but stopped short of passing it to Dieter. “I just need to go over a few things with you about the Lodge first.” 

Dieter felt his shoulders slump. I’m being punished. I just want to get stoned and sleep and I’m being fucking punished. “Uh…Okay.” He sighed. “What, um… What do I need to know?”

Laurel launched into a run down of the Yule Lodge’s rules and amenities. Fully stocked kitchen and bar, chef-prepared meals for breakfast and dinner, fireplaces in the parlor, library and… something to do with the candles in the windows? She was saying something about a small holly wreath while holding it up with his key when Dieter’s attention was stolen completely by the creak of the stairs just visible beyond the parlor, and the stunning woman who was descending them - you. 

Huh. He blinked, watching the way your hand slid down the railing as you took the last few steps. Maybe it won’t be all bad, staying here. You looked up then, making quick, unintentional eye contact, and Dieter felt himself grin at the way your eyes widened when they met his, your mouth falling open in slight shock. Your tongue darted out to lick at your lips, and then you quickly slipped into another room. The library, maybe? 

But just when he had convinced himself to go throw his stuff upstairs and then come back down to see if you were still there - and maybe ask if you wanted to have a drink with him - he saw you slip back up the stairs with a book in hand, and his grin fell into a frown. Oh, well. Guess I’ll stick to the plan. 

By then, thankfully, Laurel was finished with her spiel, and she finally handed over the key, along with the small holly wreath. “Enjoy your stay, Mr. Bravo. I hope it’s exactly what you need it to be.” 

I have no idea what that means but… “Thanks.” He smiled, nodding as he took the key from her. “Have a good night, Laurel.” 

With that, he headed upstairs to his room, where he promptly tossed the key and the little wreath onto the dresser, shucked his coat off, and collapsed into the bed with a groan. It wasn’t the plush, pillowy cloud bed he was supposed to be sleeping in, but for the next few days it would do just fine. And who knows? Your face popped into his head. Maybe I won’t spend the whole time holed up in here after all.

– – – 

You weren’t supposed to be here. 

And I’m not even sure I understand why or how I am but… 

You rolled over in the big, soft bed and gazed out the window as flurries fell outside. The picturesque grounds were covered in a thin white blanket of fresh snow, and the glow from the lamppost along with the flicker of the candle on the windowsill threw golden halos of light against the darkness in a way that warmed you through. 

I’m really glad that I am. 

Traveling solo was somewhat out of character for you. Doing it at Christmas - and missing your family’s annual holiday party - made that even more true. Add in the last minute nature of the trip, and it was no wonder that your parents and siblings (and probably your nosey aunt and cousins, too) were having a hard time accepting your decision to spend Christmas abroad by yourself. It simply wasn’t like you. 

Which was, of course, the whole point. You wanted a change, had been looking for a way to shake things up. It wasn’t that you were unhappy with anything in your life. You had a job that you enjoyed and that paid you well, owned a house that you had turned into a home, and had a close group of friends who you knew would be there for you no matter what. But what you wanted, or maybe what you needed, was a little adventure. A measured dose of the unknown. A play from out of left field. 

Because even though you were happy with the things that you had, there was a part of you that felt like you only had most of those things because you followed some predetermined script for your life. Graduate from a good school, get a respectable job, buy and maintain a home… It was all good stuff, and you took none of it for granted. But sometimes it felt a little too similar to the board game version of Life, spinning the wheel and plopping your little plastic car along the path, collecting socially acceptable experiences along the way. 

Even the last few vacations you took weren’t really vacations. You’d had to travel for three separate destination weddings in the last year and a half. And then there was the trip your grandma surprised the whole family with, which was extremely nice, but was also extremely mandatory. So not only did you not get to choose the when or where of your last four trips, you didn’t have much say in the what to do part, either. 

You deserved to do something unexpected and just for you. So when you got the unexpected news that you’d won an all expense paid trip to London to spend Christmas in a quaint, Victorian-style B&B, you chose to act on it. 

I don’t even remember entering the contest, but… You glanced around the room and ran your hands over the quilted comforter. But I’m here. It’s real. So I must have. 

You thought back to the voicemail you’d received a few weeks prior, and how you almost deleted it without calling back to follow up. It seemed like a scam. And even if it wasn’t, you were sure that there was no way it could actually be free. You figured it had to do with a timeshare or some marketing promo where you could win a free trip after spending a crazy amount of money on rental cars or luggage. But a curious little voice from the back of your brain piped up and told you to at least Google the phone number first. 

And when you did that, and it didn’t link you to numerous Reddit posts about scam callers or direct you to a clearly phony website, but instead brought you to a completely legitimate page hosted by the site where you had booked your most recent flight for your friend’s wedding in Puerto Vallarta, displaying your name and stating that all you had to do was call to claim your prize, you allowed yourself to possibly entertain the notion that maybe it wasn’t too good to be true. 

You were still cautiously skeptical when you pressed call and waited while the phone rang, still expecting there to be a catch somewhere. You also expected the number you dialed would be an automated one, and that you would just be pressing buttons when prompted to complete the process. So it was a surprise to you when a very human voice greeted you after the second ring. 

“Thank you for calling Spirit Travel!” The woman on the other end spoke in a bright, cheerful tone as she introduced herself and then said your name, making sure she was speaking with the correct person. You were so taken aback by the fact that you were wrong about it being a recording that you completely missed her name, but you caught back up in time to confirm that you were in fact you. 

“I, um… I’m a little confused, to be honest,” you immediately confessed, shrugging as though she could see the lift of your shoulders through the phone. Shaking your head, you went on. “I don’t think I entered any contests, and I definitely don’t think I’ve ever heard of the-” You double checked the name of the place that the website had listed as your prize. “The Yule Lodge? Is it like a Christmas themed hotel or something?” 

The woman let out a small, jingling laugh. “You could say that. Christmastime is when the Lodge is at its best, that’s for sure.” That didn’t quite answer your question, but she continued. “And it’s a very small, boutique-y little place. Doesn’t draw a ton of tourist attention, so I’m not surprised that you haven’t heard of it. But I assure you it is absolutely lovely.” 

“Oh…kay.” You stared at your laptop screen, narrowing your eyes suspiciously at the scrolling congratulations banner. “I still don’t remember entering a contest, though.” 

“Oh, that part!” You heard what sounded like keystrokes from her end of the call, and figured that she was pulling up some information on a computer. “Yup, mmhmm. It’s right here.” Before you could ask her what was right where, she filled you in. “I’m emailing a screenshot of it to you right now so you can see it, too, but when you booked your trip to Mexico in September, you checked a box entering you in Spirit Travel sponsored giveaways. It’s all perfectly legitimate, I promise!” 

A few seconds later you received her email, opening it and seeing for yourself that you had in fact checked that box. Hm. Must’ve been a mistake. I usually opt out of that crap. You shrugged. But maybe I’ll stop doing that now. Finally sufficiently happy with the proof that the trip was real and that it wasn’t a hoax, you cleared your throat. “Okay, so it’s… It’s really free? Airfare, the hotel, all of it?” 

“Well, just to be clear, the Yule Lodge isn’t a hotel, per say. More like a very exclusive, high end bed and breakfast.” 

Sure. Semantics, whatever. “Okay, fine. Airfare, the B&B? That’s all free?” 

“Yup! We’ll even arrange a car to pick you up from the airport and drive you to the Lodge. All you have to do is say yes and then show up for your flight.” She paused. “So is that a yes?” 

You chewed your bottom lip, going back and forth in a span of a few seconds. What will everyone think when I’m not there on Christmas? What will my friends say when I tell them? They’ll probably think I’m nuts or something. But then that same voice that told you to call about the trip spoke up again. Who cares? It asked. Do it for yourself. And that was all it took to answer. 

“It’s a yes,” you said, excitement making you sound a little giddy. I can’t believe it, but… “Yeah, I’m in.” 

She went over a few more details with you regarding dates - December 23rd to the 26th - and flight times, and then let you know that if you had any more questions you could always call her back and she’d happily answer them. 

“Thank you, really, this is… I really needed this, so thanks-” You realized you never got her name after missing it initially. “I’m so sorry, what was your name again?” 

“Oh, no need to apologize,” she assured you. “I get it, you were excited. Happens all the time.” She chuckled. “But my name is Ivy.” 

“Well, thank you, Ivy. You’re pretty much my favorite person right now.” 

She laughed again. “I’ll take it! Listen, like I said, you can call me if you have any other questions about the trip. But otherwise, in case we don’t talk again, I hope you have a very Merry Christmas.” 

“You, too! I hope you get a surprise this good in your stocking this year.” 

“Oh,” she said in a wistful way that actually didn’t sound like a customer service put-on, “For me, making other people’s holidays special is the real gift.” 

With that, she signed off, and you were left with the task of telling everyone you knew that you were pitching them all a holiday curveball. 

They’d responded similarly to how you thought they would. But by the time you had checked in to the Yule Lodge, met Laurel, the exceptionally festive and cheerful hostess who had given you the quirkiest run-down on a hotel you’d ever gotten (including a somewhat campy but cute enough folklore-inspired instruction to place the small holly wreath she’d given you at check in around your door knob to “keep out unwanted spirits” on Christmas Eve) and settled into your room, it was far too late to worry about all of that. 

All you were concerned with for the next few days was which fireplace you’d be spending the most amount of time reading near, whether or not you felt like strolling the snow covered grounds in the morning, and possibly chatting with the other guest that Laurel had mentioned would be checking in shortly after you’d arrived. Or maybe not. Who knows, maybe they’ll want to be left alone. Either way, you were looking forward to a few days of answering to no one but yourself. And if it came with a heaping helping of authentic Christmas cheer? Even better. 

Deciding not to wait until morning to venture downstairs and into the library to choose your first of hopefully many books for the duration, you popped up from your bed and headed for the door, smiling to yourself as you made sure that the holly wreath was securely around the knob. Don’t want any bad spirits messing around in my room. About halfway down the stairs, you heard voices and realized that Laurel was giving her welcome speech to the other guest. Oh, guess they’re here. You peeked through the hall and into the parlor, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person you’d be sharing the common areas of the Lodge with. But as was becoming a theme for this trip and everything connected to it, you were floored to find Academy Award winning actor Dieter Bravo looking right at you. 

Holy shit. You felt your eyes go about as round as the baubles hanging from the giant spruce tree, your mouth dropping open as your heart thundered in your chest. Holy shit, holy shit that’s Dieter Bravo. Oh my god. No, it’s not. It can’t be, right? You blinked and he was still there and still definitely Dieter Bravo and - wait is he..? Yup. He was grinning at you. Oh, fuck. 

You scurried down the last few stairs and disappeared into the library, repeating those two words over in your head in a series of tones ranging from disbelief and shock to disbelief and excitement, with a twinge of nerves because Oh, fuck, what am I supposed to say to Dieter Bravo? Your face flushed making you warmer than the fireplace on the other side of the room. There was plenty that you’d thought about saying to him, your imagination running a little wild at times when you saw interviews or red carpet photos of him, or when you saw his performances on screen and he made you fall in love with his characters time and time again. But all of those thoughts had occurred while you were under the realistic assumption that you would never actually get to say any of it to him. 

But now he was sleeping just down the hall from you. 

Blindly grabbing the first book your fingers found, you scurried back up the stairs and into the sanctuary of your room before you ran the risk of running into him on the way. Choosing a book was a fine enough thing not to put off until morning. Figuring out what to say to a celebrity that you had an innocent but huge crush on was something that definitely required you to sleep on it. Flopping back into your bed a little breathlessly, you had to laugh at the absurdity of it all. 

I did say I needed an adventure. 

Glancing down to see what book you’d grabbed, you read the title and laughed again. A Christmas Carol. Of course. What else would it be in this place? 

It took a while, but eventually you were able to calm your brain - and heartbeat - enough to sink into the story and let thoughts about how on earth you were going to interact with Dieter slide to the backburner, and eventually, you drifted off to sleep.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Laurel was making one last phone call before closing up and heading home for the evening. 

“Ivy?” She tapped her fingernails on the desk and grinned. “They’re both here. Just where they need to be this Christmas.” 

“Good,” the other woman said. “Now the rest is up to them.” 

– – – 

Dieter tags: @something-tofightfor @littlemisspascal @tentacruels @alraedesigns @practicalghost

@trickstersp8 @imtryingmybeskar @mswarriorbabe80 @theredwritingwitch @silverstarsandsuns

@pedro-pedrito-pascalito @jedi-in-crocs @chiyo13 @myloveistoolittle @noisynightmarepoetry

@haylzcyon @jessthebaker @pedrostories @covetyou

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

So I just finished My Stand In. And I gotta say, I know I said some things about Ming. But really, he's not that bad. Sure he did some things and said some things, but I mean, we've all seen worse. And he's so pretty...

No, but seriously, that's my main issue with this show to be honest. Granted I had only watched this show from my dash but I got the impression Ming was the devil himself. He was proper toxic for like 3 episodes. Ok, after that, the whole contract with Joe 2.0 to be his 'paramour' wasn't great but Joe had a choice. And yeah, he was a bit of a stalker when he started to suspect Joe 2.0 of being Original Joe. But again, I say. We've seen worse.

And here's the thing. Joe is not without blame. Sure at first he was used for his back lol. And Ming wasn't exactly honest about why he was with him. He treated Joe like dirt from the start. But he also didn't exactly lie. He didn't claim to love him or anything like that. But Joe put on those rose tinted glasses and was happy to go along and be a door mat, until his ego was shattered much like those mugs.

Also. No one forced Joe to do the stunt that got him killed. That's not on Ming. That's on Joe. Just like no one forced Joe into that contract. Joe also chose to get back into the same industry as his previous body, aware that Ming was now in the business. Joe made a lot of the choices.

So, at times, I felt like the show was telling me I was supposed to think that Ming was this horrible person, but they weren't actually showing me that. Some red flags for sure, but mostly he was just a frustrated and miserable dude that took that out on everyone around him. Then he went a bit crazy with his grief and eventually recovered and tried to get his guy back. His methods are a bit unorthodox for sure, but love makes us do crazy things.

Now for the body swap thing. The show didn't take it seriously so neither did I. I got a bit surprised every time Joe 2.0 appeared in a reflection. Like, oh that's right, he looks different. They didn't commit to that part of the stand-in concept. I'd like to think that if all of a sudden another person was to occupy my body, I think my mother would notice. Certainly before my work buddy noticed. I also think if my soul ended up in a different body, it would take some getting used to. There would be some body dysmorphia at least. But not Joe. He's just ready to go. Incredible.

Now, the final part.. First let me just say, Tong is a proper asshole and I can't believe he got his happy ending. That was the thing that pissed me off the most. The drama with Ming's family was a bit insane and the turn around a bit ridiculous. But I mean, at that point my suspension of disbelief was so stretched so why the hell not?

Despite some of its flaws, it was a very pretty show to watch. Visually, it's great. Beautifully shot and edited. And I mean, the leads are gorgeous and Poom's face should be illegal. But they're not just pretty faces, they can act and have some really strong moments here. I'm looking forward to seeing these two again.

[shxtodxroki]

𝚁𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙿𝚞𝚙

Summary: While taking a walk to try and break yourself from the dull cycle of life you’ve found yourself pushing through, a runaway dog puts you face-to-face with the handsomest stranger you’ve ever met in your life, and one who just may be interested in you too at that. 

Flufftober Day 1 Prompt: Lost Pet Meet Cute

Warnings: Swearing I think, A bit melancholy in the beginning (but it gets much fluffier as it goes on), a dog (gently) jumps on the reader, reader is implied to be in college/school

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Gender Neutral! Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Check out my full Flufftober masterlist here!

It’s funny how quickly time can fly by when you’re not paying attention. When you’re so focused in on all the small details of your life and failing to see the bigger picture, when you’ve found yourself lost in the seas on your mind and the monotony of an everyday routine. It’s easy for days to turn into weeks, weeks into months, and to forget about the fun spontaneity life can bring when you allow yourself to be a part of it.

Summer’s shift to autumn was always a difficult adjustment period for you, with the return of school and the many arduous hours of homework that came along with it while still struggling to maintain a job and enough income to pay rent. Most days were a drag through your morning routine and into classes, time slipping by between them until you were finally forced to swap out your textbooks for your work uniform as you spent your evening working to earn a living wage. Life was tiring, and in the interim between summer ending and your body and mind adjusting to a new school schedule, you hardly found time to just be with yourself and your thoughts. But eventually the monotony and consistency of your routine became too dull to continue, and you feel you must allow yourself a small break from your typical Sunday homework session for the sake of your mental state as you took the opportunity of a sunny day to go on a walk and clear your head a bit.

Despite the simplicity and clichè-ness of it all, just the feeling of fresh air in your lungs and the slight chill of the autumn wind against your skin does wonders for your mind in that moment. It gives you a moment to intentionally try to push the stressors you so often face at work and in school into the back of your mind, to try and find small things along your walk to focus on in order to distract your mind from the issues and troubles that so often plagued it. 

The couple walking along the opposite side of the street, and the way they smiled so brightly at one another, leaving you unable to tell if they were newly dating or in their honeymoon phase or if they still carried so much adoration for one another after several years together. The squirrel that ran across the street right as a car drove by, forcing the car to a screeching halt as it challenged itself without a care in the world as to who or what else it may inconvenience. The colony of ants all huddled around a large, sharp lollipop chunk on the sidewalk beside you, all eagerly enjoying the sweet treat. It may seem like a clichè, but taking a moment to notice the small things manages to give you a hint of calm as you make your way along the cement path, if only for a brief second before a sudden interruption comes darting your way.

At first, all you can see is a large, dark mass of fur. It seemed fairly far off initially, little more than a shifting blob, which is why you find yourself startled when you find its paws pressing against your stomach in a matter of seconds, suddenly right on you when it had been so far off moments ago. The animal’s sudden contact immediately has your heart racing as you momentarily freeze with shock, but as it quickly becomes apparent that the dog has no harmful intentions and is only angling towards the granola bar stuffed into your bag, the pounding in your chest begins to soothe itself a bit. Its fur is soft and well-groomed between your fingers as you give it a tentative pet, and the way its tongue hangs from its mouth in an almost lopsided grin and it gazes at you with the most eager expression instantly melts any of your remaining worries.

As you gently pet the dark, fluffy canine, you faintly hear a voice that grows louder moment by moment shouting repeatedly. And it doesn’t take long for a man’s silhouette to reveal itself to your gaze, rapidly running towards you with a fairly frantic look clear on his face as he grows closer. It doesn't take long to put together that this is likely the dog’s owner, prompting you to stand as the dog falls back onto all fours at your side, blissfully ignorant to its owner’s approach as it continues sniffing at the bottom of your bag for the tasty treat held within.

“There you are! You can’t just run off like that, you brat!” The strange man hisses out towards the dog once he grows close enough to slow his pace, and even though he had been running quite fast, he somehow doesn’t seem winded at all, nor does it seem like he's broken a sweat from the sudden activity. The subtle scent of vague powdered sugary sweetness makes its way into your system as he approaches, and when he looks up to meet your eyes and offer a confident yet slightly apologetic smile, you're engulfed in a sensation not unlike a bucket of cold water unceremoniously dumping itself onto your head.

He's undeniably gorgeous, completely stunning from head to toe. There's no way around admitting it. Soft, glowy skin, shimmering cyan eyes peeking out from beneath a pair of round sunglasses, and flowy white locks that expertly frame his skin as if each individually placed by the gods. His grin is so relaxed, so simple, and yet it incites that classic rom-com butterfly effect that always seems to signal no good. But his stance seems genuine, if slightly guarded, and his gaze appears relaxed and friendly as you're finally greeted with the sound of his voice up close.

“Sorry about him, he’s like an escape artist or something. I think his leash may need to be sized down a bit.” The man apologizes, his voice only worsening your infatuated stupor with its smooth tone. He's truly ethereal, you can’t seem to find a single flaw on him as he continues to speak. “I hope he didn’t knock you down too hard or anything, are you alright?”

He’s still smiling as he speaks, even with the hint of concern present in his voice. It takes some effort to bite back a swoon, but you know you should respond, to soothe the inkling of worry in his stunning features. Maybe, if luck was on your side, you could even make a good impression. You knew you’d likely never see him again, but even making him smile once would improve your day immeasurably.

“Oh, no, I’m okay. He didn’t knock me down or anything, just jumped up looking for food. I think he smelled a snack in my bag.” You muttered, a slightly awkward smile on your face as you managed to avoid stumbling over yourself or your words. And his smile brightened at the reassurance, only making your legs feel more weak as he reached out to grab the dog’s collar, prompting you to speak once more. “He’s a beautiful dog, by the way. And super fluffy too, he seems well-groomed.”

The man’s grin only brightens at your compliments, a creature of pride even to his core as you feel a flutter in your chest from the sight of the crinkles beside his eyes through his glasses. “Yeah, if I don’t keep up with grooming, he sheds all over my shit.” The man mutters with a small laugh, his eyes bright and vibrant as they meet yours with an almost eager look. “But he’s my kid’s dog, really. He’s young, but I’m trying to teach him to care for the furball himself with what he can.” He continues on, and at the mention of a son, you feel your heart drop slightly even though you knew hopes of any more than passing friendliness from the man were beyond far-fetched.

“Ah, how sweet….. Does your partner like the dog?” Though you feel like you’re being obvious, struggling to hide the disappointment in your eyes even if this stranger was far too radiant to not already have someone by his side, you can’t bite back in the question even as it feels a bit pathetic to ask. But suddenly, you catch a quick flash of what seems almost like concern in the man’s gaze before he quickly manages to mask it, though there’s a titch of urgency in his voice when he speaks again that you feel wasn’t present before.

“Oh, no. No partner for me.” He’s still composed as he speaks, but you think you can detect a slight rush in his words, one that brings the flutters back into your abdomen despite yourself. “Both my kids are adopted, found them in a bit of a… rough situation, so I took them in. I’m not even old enough to be their bio dad, honestly.”

His last comment makes you laugh, the mood lifted at his obvious attempt at self-flattery. But the realization that he’s somehow not already taken lightens your heart and your laugh alike as you look at him with a glimmer in your eyes, unable to stop yourself from wondering if just maybe, he was so eager to correct you because he saw something in you, too.

Before you can question much else, however, you’re drawn back into the realities of your world as the alarm you set for yourself to return home and continue studying sounds off from your phone. Despite how much joy your walk had brought you as a break from your typical monotony, and the way you wished to talk to the handsome stranger until your lips turned blue and your feet stopped working, you didn’t have any more time to waste when your academics lay waiting at home for you.

“Damn, that’s me. I guess it’s time for me to head home and get back to work.” You try to keep the annoyed grumble out of your tone, an apologetic smile crossing your face as his eyes widen in surprise at your words. “It was lovely meeting you, though. And this sweet little guy, too.” You mutter while mentally preparing to walk away from the first person to bring a spark into your life in quite a while, threading your fingers through the dog’s fluffy ebony tufts one last time as you prepared to walk away from the meet-cute rom-com you had built up in your head.

Until a hand reaches out, gently grabbing the fabric of your jacket to halt you briefly.

“Wait, you’re just gonna walk away before even giving me your number?” He mutters with a lighthearted grin that betrays just a hint of nerves. And it’s impossible to care about seeming a fool with the way your heart lights up at his words, an eager smile replacing your mopey one in an instant as he speaks once more. “Maybe one of these days when I’m walking this guy, you can join me. My kids may even come with me to the dog park.”

The subtle excitement in his voice is hard to catch, yet the subtle details give way to the clear mutual interest between the two of you. And as you happily type your number into his contacts list, even working up the courage to add a cheeky heart emoticon beside your name, you feel the melancholy and frustration of fall and school and work all meld into this moment of positivity, showing you a horizon of light and a hope that this may be the change you’ve been looking for in your life. 

A/N: Hi hi everyone, happy Flufftober! I started writing this right at the beginning of September to hopefully get myself started preparing for this month early, so by the time this is actually posted it will have been a while since I actually worked on it. But I just couldn’t resist starting off the month with one of my favs and one of the (obviously lol) most popular characters in my survey! I hope y’all enjoyed this, I’m so so excited to hopefully get through the rest of Flufftober as well with y’all! My requests are also open right now, so if you have any requests feel free to send them over to my inbox :>

Taglist: @flufftober @ace-lavender

If you’d like to be added to any of my taglists, you can fill out this form here! Thank you for your support <3

[thepenultimateword]

Writing Challenge!

Hello, everyone! As I mentioned a few days ago, I am hosting another writing challenge! I loved reading what everyone came up with in the last challenge I hosted, so I’m excited to see more cool stories this time around!

What is the challenge?

The premise for this challenge is fairytales! In this challenge I will assign everyone who decides to participate two fairytales! You then must write your own adaptation that combines the two stories together. This can be done anyway you like—for example you can keep it in its original setting, tell it in a fairytale style, modernize it, change its genre, swap character roles, etc.—but the fairytales must be at least somewhat recognizable

Is there a deadline?

To make this more of a challenge, there will of course be a deadline! That deadline is July 1st, giving you until the end of the month to write your story! Because this challenge is individual, there’s nothing wrong with going over the deadline; meeting it on time will just give you a sense of accomplishment. It will also just be fun to flood the feeds with fairytales that day!

How do I join and is there a time limit for joining?

If you would like to join the challenge, send me a message, and I will start sending out fairytale combos (which I will choose through a randomizer) sometime in the morning of June 11th (Mountain Standard Time).

The individualness of this challenge also means that anyone can join at any time throughout the challenge, just know that you will still have the same deadline as everyone else.

Does this challenge have any conditions?

This challenge is open to anyone who wants to join whether this is your first time writing or you’re an established writblr.

There is also no specific word-count requirement for this challenge. It can be as short or as long as you like as long as you get your fairytales across.

I’m also not going to restrict what people choose to write, just make sure if you write something with themes that could cause someone discomfort that you tag it appropriately, that way everyone knows which stories they feel comfortable reading.

Other Details

In order to make finding everyone’s stories easier, when you post your story on July 1st, use the tag #ficsandfables. That way, even if you aren’t being followed by all the participants, everyone can find your story.

Also, feel free to reach out to me if you have any issues with the fairytales you are assigned. If for some reason you just really aren’t vibing with your given fairytales, we can see about switching them out. But please only do this if you are really struggling, not just because you have a preference, part of the fun of the challenge is writing an adaptation you might not have thought of doing otherwise.

You may choose for yourself whether you want to keep your fairytale combo a surprise or not. If you don’t mind people knowing ahead of the deadline, feel free to brainstorm with others if you need to!

Most importantly have fun with this!

P.S. Because I don’t know how many participants we will end up with, and there are a limited number of fairytales (at least immediately recognizable ones) some people will probably end up with one of the same fairytales as another, but I will try to avoid anyone getting the exact same combo.

[terrence-silver]

Imagine beloved had left 80s Terry around the same time as John and he couldn’t find her despite all of his resources. Then at his little garden party where he’s introduced in CK, he/she turns up with Kreese. How would he react?….

The One Who Got Away

Terry Silver x Reader (With spectacular amounts of meddling from John Kreese)

—

John believed himself a good friend, even when nobody understood his methods.

His technique.

But, sometimes genuinely favorable intentions tended to be misunderstood in life precisely because truth had the habit of being a hard pill to swallow for some, the same way Terry misunderstood him when he hung up the phone on him after decades of radio silence even though John didn’t take it to heart; not in the way someone else might’ve taken it to heart, anyway. He understood bitterness. Festering, unresolved issues. Baggage. Old resentments. Hell, he lived with a great many old things like the lack of closure as the only companionship he could openly boast for quite a while — in fact, old memories proved to be better company than most people would've. After all, Terry reached out countless times over the years, offering him opportunities, employment, money, second, third and fourth chances, never once getting the fact that to John, living off of quite so much charity was like castration, even if a good friend was the one holding the amputation blade. He might as well not be a man if someone else puts his bread and butter on the table instead of himself. Of course they both knew where the other was these past thirty something years, the short distance between them like an aching gap that couldn’t close or stop bleeding. John was legally homeless because, to him, there was a certain honor in refusing handouts and across town, Terry was cooped up in possibly his millionth new mansion since the 80’s, switching his usual old haunt up in The Hills for a beachfront porch out in Malibu were he took to hosting garden parties and charity events nowadays; a pastime for the semi-retired.

It was all over the newspapers and luckily, John enjoyed swapping through articles — has done so ever since he was a young man. Terry Silver had no marriage, no children, no official affiliation with any martial arts by the looks of it, some woman beside him.

John knows her type.

What GI's back in the days used to call a Boom Boom Girl.

A Boom Boom Girl putting on airs that she wasn't a Boom Boom Girl.

John places his finger over her face on the glossy paper of the periodical, covering her features as he eyes the phone in his hand, wondering if Terry never quite got down to having either progeny or matrimony because it wasn’t with you; somehow, things fell apart after the ‘85 tournament and old friendships and creeds broke into a thousand pieces, you becoming the one who got away amidst the wreckage and all the fallout. John felt responsible for you. Responsible, perhaps, in a way an older brother would be. A father, even though you were close in age, only several years of difference between you. Thinking that someone Terry cared about was in equal measure someone he should keep an eye out for. Watch, from afar. A solidarity of a Cobra for another Cobra and the Cobra’s mate. You never married either. Never had kids. John kept a careful tab on everything. Seems like the three of you were much the same, he thinks, as he hits up your number, one hand entering the digits who went to some pretty big lengths to track down, his other hand and his finger still pressed against the paper of the periodical; something or other about a Mindfulness App and its upcoming promotion. John saw nothing wrong in sabotaging an existing relationship to make another one happen. Picking apart people to bring together someone with somebody else. He’s done worse in life. Done better too. Never regretted any of it. This was probably the first time he was willingly playing a game of Good Cupid, Bad Cupid.

To quote Terry himself, extreme situations required extreme measures.

A nearby thin, black ballpoint marker stands on the table of his dojo office and listening to the clicking of the phone line pressed against his ear, John unplugs the top, drawing an X over the face of the person Hello! Magazine’s interviewer described as one Cheyenne Hamidi, standing next to Terry during what seemed like an official photoshoot of sorts. Promotional glossy bullshit with a plastic sprinkling of sparkles doused all over it.

Battle plans.

So many battle plans for the Thirty Year War.

Terry shouldn’t have terminated their phone call like that. Shouldn’t have left him out in the cold when all he wanted to do was talk. Cut him off, will he? The man who saved his life as many times as he did? His oldest ever friend? Whenever John Kreese was faced with an unmovable wall that barricaded him out, he returned to the place with a tank. You happened to be a crucial part of his heavy artillery.

A familiar voice answers on the other side; you sound aged. But still you.

-"Hello? Who’s this?"-

You inquire carefully, the questioning in your voice peppered with confusion once you get no immediate answer back. John sets down the marker on the desk. After a brief moment of silence, he has to smile. My, was it good to hear you loud and clear after all these years. He wondered if you’d recognize him if he spoke. Regardless, taking no chances, he chooses to introduce himself, hoping you wouldn’t hang up on him like Terry did. He shuts the periodical he’s drawn on, tossing it aside.

-"Toots? It’s John Kreese."-

—

-"Look at you. You’re a smokeshow!"-

-"Oh, please, John, I’ve aged. I’m all wrinkles."-

Those are the first words you exchange once he arranges a meeting, wondering to a degree, how was it that for all his connections, money, resources and usual habit of getting what he wants when he wants it, Terry never sought you out when John managed, not possessing a quarter of his means, concluding that Terry simply choose to capitulate, which was entirely out of character for him, to be as defeatist as to give up on something he felt belonged to him. Things changed. Things needed to be back to order, by the looks of it. John squeezes your hand in a handshake, for old times sake. -"I resent that."- He says, smiling into his own chin, looking you up and down. The years did it's toll, but you were still a grand lady. Shocking how nobody came to scoop you up over the years. Less shocking once he'd consider the fact that he'd make them disappear even if they tried ---- for Terry's own sake. Even if Terry never asked him to do that, John knew --- oh, he knew he needed someone to do that regardless; someone needed to pick up the good fight for him and in his stead occasionally now that he was seemingly playing the role of a Pacifist in newspapers people kept in their salons and never actually read. So, naturally, John plays clueless and asks the very question he already the knew the answer to. -"Tell me, how come you never got married? How’s that even possible?"- He goes by way of flattery, watching something gloomy wash over your face as you sit down on a nearby park bench, sighing deeply. That serious, huh?

-"Oh, John. You know why."-

He knew why. He knew everything.

Collecting intel was one of his talents.

But, still. A looker like you? Men in this city either became dumber over the years or they've lost their taste entirely. Probably both.

-"He’s never married either."-

And he just about should've been by now, he yearns to add.

Keeping his thoughts to himself for the time being and instead, John immediately chooses to cut to the chase; cut the bullshit, get to the point, meeting your glance knowingly and you nod, visibly gulping hard. It was clear it was difficult for you to talk about this --- that this was a taxing topic, even after all these decades, even though you knew exactly who he was talking about even without a name ever being mentioned. Terry was always on your mind, wasn't he? At least, frequently enough that he didn't even have to be brought up directly for you to catch the context immediately. -"Look, I was the one who ran when things got out of hand. You know that. He’s got every right be hurt."- You manage, appearing almost apologetic about it. -"And by the looks of it, he’s been doing very well for himself now. Then again, has there ever been a time when he wasn’t?"- You looking down towards your own lap and the hands on them, chuckling to yourself with a note of bitterness, and yeah, there have been times when Terry Silver hasn't been doing good, and if John could attest to that with certainty it is because he's seen him at his lowest and ironically, for all the razzle, dazzle, glitz and glamour, he'd be damned if anyone could convince him he was doing good right now, no matter what the shills in the media were claiming; Newspapers you no doubt saw too. John wondered if you were jealous? Heartbroken? You had to be. If his Betsy went and married some random schmuck who wasn't him he'd about ram his teeth down his throat over it, and that would only be the introduction. -"What I mean to say, John, I am happy, if he’s happy. We’re from two different worlds, we always have been, but Terry’s contentment is all I want."- 

No lies detected in your voice.

Only honesty. Clear as a stream. Just as vulnerable. Fragile.

See, this is exactly why he wanted you for Terry.

Kind.

Selfless.

Almost noble.

The willingness to stay in the shadows and self-sacrifice your happiness.

Not a single advantageous, opportunistic bone in your body in regards to Terry.

True love.

That was it. What it looked like.

In strange ways beyond explanation, your manner reminded John of Betsy all his life --- Betsy if she was allowed to age and grow old, no more than it did there and then, something similarly timeless and eerily haunting about you two; something sweet and genuine once you said that you wanted nothing but Terry's contentment and he figured, Terry, Twig --- he needed all the help he could get even when he didn't realize it. Even when he wouldn't admit to it. Ever since the war, he needed a push in the right direction. Someone to guide him in a seamless sense. Save him. John would guide him. Save him, yes. For the umpteenth time. John would guide him right where he witnessed Terry happiest back in the day, right to you. The natural payment for that would be Cobra Kai reestablished and reinstated to it's former glory where it belonged. John watches Terry's back, Terry watches his. Who said there wasn't a thread of selfishness to the transaction? In 'Nam, when rations were low, John tended to let Twig drink out of his canteen, eat from his share of meals purely so he'd have a fighting chance at growing a pair of muscles and surviving the long marches out in the jungle even if it meant there would be less food left for John. Was it quite so different today, over forty years later? John gets Cobra Kai and Terry gets the love of his life because John would ensure the meeting possible. Precisely because he was ready to selfishly meddle. Divide and conquer.

So, really, in the end, who gets more out of the deal?

-"Look, toots, I’ll be going to see him to talk business."-

John offers.

-"If you want to come with me, you should."-

-"No, John, c’mon. I can't."-

You immediately snort and fidget, overtaken by a nervous edge of unwillingness.

Profusely embarrassed, gripping the edge of the bench with both hands.

Looking like you wanted to stand up and make an excuse to leave.

-"I can’t randomly show up in his life like that."-

Can't or were too afraid to?

Because John wasn't afraid; he'd scale the walls of his mansion if he had to.

Fight whatever security detour there was in place.

With you on his back.

-"Give me one good reason why you shouldn’t."-

John inquires, taking no prisoners, being as serious as he could be as he scrutinizes your anxiety, because no, genuinely, your place was by Terry's side ever since the good, old days. Everything between there and now was a load of bullshit and if John loathed anything it was loads of bullshit. You shake your head, prodding on, still not convinced. Did you think someone was going to come along and award you a Medal of Honor if you were continued to deprive yourself of joy? -"No fair! Tell me what’s this business you two are suddenly talking about? I thought you weren’t close like that anymore."- You furrow your brows with incredulity and John simply shrugs, choosing to be blunt. After all, he didn't track you down and bring you out here to pull your nose or waste too much of his own time doing so when there was work to be done. He came here to tie up loose ends. -"It’s Cobra Kai."- He confesses, holding your gaze firmly. Your mouth remains open, like you intended to say something, but the words remained stuck halfway in your throat. Sounded like you haven't heard that name uttered in thirty years and like you weren't certain if you should even say it anymore, after everything that's transpired. -"Cobra Kai?"- You stutter, practically shooting up from where you were seated, your body language rigid. Stiff as a board. -"So, this is what it’s all about? I should've known you had an agenda the minute you contacted me! You want me to butter Terry up for you, John? Isn't that right? Get whatever financing and bankrolling you need to get your revenue expanding! None of this is honest, good or dignified!"- You point a finger at him, ranting, visibly impassioned and John has to smile into his chin. Feisty, huh? Feisty and ever so selfless once again, with all the consideration in the world for Terry's honor and well-being, like the saint you were. If anything, another proof you belonged together; that is, if Terry as he was now was man enough to even deserve you back.

And after all, so what if it wasn't honest, good or dignified?

When was war ever honest, good or dignified?

What Cobra Kai was about to do is enter an all out war.

Terry could be out here blowing his cash on buying some broad with an over inflated ego and a smug face the credentials for an unearned start-up and splitting grey hairs on a silky mansion cushion like the sad, neutered old pensioner he's made himself out to be, or he could be bringing their life's work to the fullest potential and fruition, get married to you, have an actual legacy to boast and be the man and the warrior he was always supposed to be; John didn't save him as many times as he did in Vietnam to have him withering away doing nothing with himself, and if that was the wrong attitude to have, then fuck it. John stands up too, placing himself in front of you. This wasn't just about the money and you knew it. This was greater than money. Cobra Kai, him, you and Terry were always greater than money. Terry and you were a major chunk of John Kreese's entire life. -"No. I want old times back. I want things made right. Set straight. And I want you to be on good terms again."- John explains himself, nearly saying 'I want the clock to go back', deciding not to, choosing not to risk sounding too damn sentimental for his own good, regardless how true it was. -"Why?"- You shrug your shoulders, appearing angry, unsatisfied with what you've just heard. Would you be more satisfied if he told you he was concerned with who his friend wasted his time on? That he wanted Terry with someone who was good for him? Who knew him inside out? Someone who understood him? Loved him?

Because John could do that. So, he does.

-"Because he cares about you, doll."-

John allows his head to cock to the side, endeared by the way your eyes welled up with suppressed, prideful tears once you were rendered temporarily speechless by that bit of unfiltered truth. You cared about his Twig too, didn't you? You cared about him more than you've ever cared about anyone else. Always have. Otherwise, you would've settled down. You would've done so ages ago. You could still do so now, in spite of your wrinkles and the occasional silver hair; a beauty even now. The same way John would've settled down if it wasn't for Betsy's memory. Just the way Terry would've too, if it wasn't for the memory of you. But, here you were, still choosing to be your stubborn, combative self. Well, Terry liked them with some spunk and fire, after all. So did John.

-"Oh, please, how can you claim to even know that!? Leave him be! He's in an relationship! He's moved on! It was all over the ---"-

You start arguing, getting emotional and heated, deflecting, clearly out of fear at the prospect of a reunion taking place, pleading Terry's case for him and if it wasn't for the fact the vista he choose the meeting to take place in wasn't remote, overlooking the gridded skyline of LA, giving you two some much needed privacy from prying eyes he was certain people would be turning around to stare you down, looking for the cause of all the noise and commotion, but regardless of the semantics; How could John claim Terry still cared about you? When two people were as intrinsically tied with each other for as long as he and Terry were, and they've been through all the crap he and Terry have been through, when a man is sure, he's sure. Doesn't require a science.

-"I know that man's soul better than he knows his own, is how."-

Is all John says, finally stunning you into silence.

—

The mansion was everything the newspaper spreads portrayed it as.

And in person, the walls surrounding the outer garden wall were just as tall as they seemed in the periodicals, their overall width and height causing John's throat to erupt in a chuckle once he landed on the immaculately trimmed green lawn cut to staggering perfection almost resembling a carpet trampled under his footwear pressing down it's surfaces in the aftermath of his jump down, letting you climb off of his back and unto the rug-like grass spread that encircled the whole estate dotted with decorative shrubberies, looming palm trees, white rocks and sprawling and exotic plants; a man simply never forgot his military basic training and the things he picked up there --- not even after half a century --- and in spite of the near bastion like fence embracing the premises of the manor from all sides, John found it easy to come in, undetected, grabbing hold of your hand and guiding you behind himself, following the pathway going along the sleek, white facade of the mansion's backyard. If Terry Silver's new home was a country, it would've been long since invaded by now. All pastels, light colors and jagged shapes; either his tastes drastically changed over time or he was simply following the new fashion of things purely because they were the new fashion of things and because he wanted to fly low, slipping beneath the radar, being like everyone else, pretending to be both the grass and the snake inside of it. Now, all was left was finding the man of the hour himself if he was present on the estate and judging by all the cars parked out front, like so many models on a show, he must've been. A maid carrying a tray of crushed ice in a heavy crystal decanter appears in sight and John feels you gasp in concealed surprise behind him, squeezing his arm wordlessly, fearing getting caught and seen by someone prematurely, no doubt, only for a taller, smartly dressed figure in blue to immediately come into sight once the server nearly drops the contents she was carrying away from whatever party she was catering, struggling underneath the weight of her platter's contents. At this point, John feels your hand let go of his.

Terry Silver. There he was. Meeting his gaze, head on.

He was dressed for vacation, looking like he was on a very long one.

John nods his way, smiling; the gesture unreturned. Figures.

The man, the legend, the myth.

It was time to leave the eternal vacation, though --- come back down to planet Earth.

-"What do you want?"-

Terry immediately snipes dryly, tight-jawed, seemingly cracking his neck, instantly recognizing him, appearing cold and detached, John certain that you were still in his shadow, just behind him, too embarrassed and scared to stand side by side beside him, trying to make yourself look small once he steps out of the looming corner of the manor's outer wall opening into a grand garden affair, riddled with people seated on outdoors commodes and loveseats not far off, further into the estate grounds, waited on by a staff of mingling butlers, finding Terry's eyes travelling from him, to his shoulders, of his arms, to the body adjoined to him and finding you standing there, discerning you, perhaps instantly, the shift in demeanor being almost immediate once the apologetic maid scurries off to tend to her duties and Terry's gaze remains frozen on you, through John. If he was on the verge of arguing with him on sight, the desire visibly disperses and Terry merely stands there, motionless, lost and vacant, you reacting much the same as the party goes on, only a couple of feet away, the silence looming heavy, like a bullet fired in the dead of night. John could swear, if someone dropped a tiny silver cocktail spoon at this party, it would be heard over on the other side, in Mexico; tension only interrupted by a chipper voice cutting through the discomfort looming like a dark cloud. The woman from the newspaper. The one with the 'X' over her face. Charlene, Charlotte, Cherry whatever. John remembered her full name alright, but he didn't bother giving her respect of pretending he did. -"Terrence! Aren’t you going to introduce us?"- Pep in her step followed with an English accent, she stands beside him, showing off a cool smile, Martini glass adorned with a garnish in hand; John interlocks his arm with yours, practically forcing you forward, stiff as you were, refusing to allow you stand behind his back, like some sort of nobody vagrant or a mouse attempting to crawl back into its hole. Nobody puts Baby in a corner, not on his watch, he thinks to himself. The very fact Terry didn't introduce you as This was the woman I loved, wanted to marry, wanted to have children with, wanted to have everything in the world with thirty years ago side by side with the man I've been through literal hell and back with was offensive enough John's taste buds.

So, he introduces himself.

-"Old friend."-

He speaks up, gruffly, with some humor. Introducing you next.

Seeing as how clearly you were too tongue tied to do it by yourself.

-"Old friend of an old friend."-

John glances at you averting your gaze awkwardly, forcing a tiny smile and trying not to look at anyone for too long, Cheyenne's giggle giving off the airs that she didn't particularly care what he introduced you or himself as in the vast coterie of all the other people here present with Terry still being as speechless as can be, trying not to show it, giving a million dollar act. Was he truly going to say nothing to you? Not even a common greeting? Nothing at all? Nothing came to mind? -"Oh, how cheeky!"- The woman next to him exclaims, and for fuck's sake, was he going to take that icicle of seemingly haughty, stoic indifference Terry was toting around and ram it in deep until it bleeds; twist it too, for good measure, until he snaps to his senses. John goes in for the jab. -"So, you tied the knot, did you?"- He asks, even though he knew the answer was negative. He did enough research by now. Terry knew him well enough to be well aware he wouldn't come here unprepared and the way he fidgets in his skin, jaw nearly bending forward in discomfort only proves as much. The woman next to him nearly erupts in laughter at the query. That funny, huh? Like it was the funniest prospect she's ever heard in her life. Your arm interlocked with John's only tightens, like a vice. -"Oh, no, me and Terrence aren’t married!"- Cheyenne throws her head back and for a brief second, John catches Terry's eyes grazing you, lingering there from the edge of his peripheral vision, there's the brilliant vestige of tears in the corner of your stare, firmly tucked away beneath your lashes. -"But, any friends of his are my friends."- She declares jubilantly. -"Margaritas?"- Before a yes or no answer could even properly be given, a uniformed server with a silver tray approaches you, offering you both wordlessly a drink, and going for fair play, John grabs himself a tall beverage, being a gentleman and handing you one too even though he was more of a Scotch or beer type of guy, not whatever green cooled off slop concoction this was, cooler perhaps being only Terry's gaze, watching you and watching him unblinking from across the array of decorative glasses while Cheyenne already disappeared from by his side, making herself busy schmoozing a guest not even two steps away.

None of them dare say a word to you.

Certainly not one of scorn, haughtiness, mockery or criticism.

John was certain that if they did, that he'd set the mansion on fire.

---

-"Why’d you bring her along? Why’d you dredge up the past?"-

The whole thing was tactically hurried; Terry practically ushering him up the second floor of the manor and towards a balcony fenced off transparent glass overlooking the lawn for some privacy. He knew he touched a nerve through the very fact they were in a secluded place, away from the crowd, having this conversation in the first place and that Terry was cutting right to the chance, his body language concealing nervousness, hands in his pockets, shoulders protruding forward defensively. The stance a prisoner of war has when he's being interrogating and trying to convince everyone he doesn't know anything when he clearly does. John speaks dryly. With all the seriousness in the world, keeping his eyes firmly planted on you down below, looking a bit lost but trying to make the best of it, chatting with a maid from across a table spread of elaborate salads. Probably the most preferable company at the whole party, for all intents and purposes. -"Because I believe in a little something called love. You should try it sometimes, Terrence."- John takes the figurative proverbial knife of mockery and digs it in deep and Terry's right there, receiving the blow and returning it in kind just like John knew he would. Terry wouldn't be Terry if he didn't. -"Rich, coming from you! Pushing me away as many times as you did. Disappearing! Wanting to stay gone. Insisting on it no matter how hard I tried. Now, you show up, jumping over the fence of my home, ammunition in hand."- His jaw tightens, hand gripping the edge of the balcony with whitened knuckles, his other free hand pointing vigorously. He was angry. Why, though? If he was quite so happy as he claimed to be? Nothing real could ever be damaged, no matter how much ammunition John brought to the fold. Terry's sudden onslaught of semi-suppressed anger is suddenly replaced by a deep exasperation once his gaze falls down on you; a figure against the green of his perfect lawn. Terry's hand anxiously runs through his loose hair. When did that happen by the way? Did he forget why he tied his hair back so many years ago in the first place? For who? -"Don’t even want to know how she jumped fence. Did you put her on your back or something!?"- 

Avoidance.

Avoiding the topic at hand by focusing on random semantics.

Yeah, John put you on his back and climbed over the mansion walls.

What of it?

Would he prefer if he did things the way his new, so-called friends apparently tended to? Discussing on feeding the destitute with Kale over an App? Playing at acceptance and bleeding heart Liberal tolerance and then calling strangers inbred? Pretending that an old army friend was nobody of consequence and that what they've been through out there together, the type of thing someone would write a memoir about, was nothing special either? Would that be preferable?

-"It’s how I do things. You know me. Tough old spine."- 

John shrugs and grins into his own chin, self-content.

Terry's weirdly harrowed reaction brought on a warm wave of relish.

He deserved to have the smug, distant aura of coldness wiped off from his face.

If only for a moment.

John steps closer as he spoke.

-"But, you should also know, there was only ever one woman for me, and I loved her all my life. There’s never been another one since."-

He shakes his head steadily, feeling his voice slide forth from the precipice of his mouth with so much firm, unyielding, silent conviction that he could've been easily giving the pledge of allegiance. There's been women in the physical sense. Just not in any that matters. Terry knew that. Terry tried to set him up with the occasional dime piece a million times throughout the years and while John used the opportunity, the epilogue of such acquittances ended the same way; by ending. John thought Terry needed a reminder of that too right before he'd get the bright idea of accusing him of being loveless. Of not knowing what love is. Wouldn't put it past him nowadays. -"I know everything there is to know about it."- John assesses. -"Think you do too, sweetheart."-  He adds, semi-snarky, semi-sincere, watching something about Terry's eyes change. A distant shadow falling over them. The distant sunset overcast across the Pacific vista encasing the outline of his features in a hazy red overtone. The view looked like a million dollars from up here. Probably cost as much too. But, Terry wasn't even looking out towards the ocean. He looked down towards you instead --- all alone, walking out towards the row of palm trees separating his garden from his private beach, away from the company of guests engrossed in their mutual conversations. -"Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here having this conversation."- John states matter-of-factly, scrutinizing Terry's averted gaze, staring out into the distance. No, you'd be down there, with the broad you're flaunting and you'd never let her out of your sights, John thinks to himself. Not up here, discussing who's right or wrong with me. Suddenly, Terry's face erupts into anger. Figures. People tended to get mad when someone made them face the truth of things. It was usually their last refuge. -"You don’t have the right to meddle in my private life. The war’s over! This isn’t military hierarchy anymore! We're not out on the battlefield! You don’t know the first thing about me, John."- He seethes through gritted teeth, speaking in a partially hushed, venom-riddled tone as to not disrupt the party going on below. A party lacking its host up here doing cartwheels around sheer facts instead of going down there --- rushing down there, in fact --- grabbing you by the hand and never letting you go again before you get bored of being alone. Embarrassed at being forgotten and overlooked. And you'd decide to leave.

Not know the first thing about him?

Heck, he knew everything about him!

From when he got his last mandatory Malaria shot in the army stationed doctor's office back in the military and how his arm where the needle jab when through swell up for days because his skin was that sensitive to how they used to eat insects, worms and bugs to survive back in that cage in 'Nam. There was nobody who knew Terry like John --- except for you.

-"Sure do."-

John has to laugh.

Not know him? He knew Terry like his own fingers.

Like his own two hands.

Was time for some tough love on the matter.

-"I know Tofu Screw down there laughed at the prospect of being married to you to your face while you couldn’t get your eyes off another woman who looked like she was going to cry because of it."-

John decides to speak clearly, without murmuring it and for once, Terry seems to be rendered speechless, like he knew what he was hearing was legitimate and accurate, mouth agape right before he took to chewing his own lip in agitation, suddenly uneasy in his own skin. If he wanted to go to you, he should just go to you. Now. Right now. Drop this whole charade. Quite pretending he was something he wasn't. Stop neutering himself. Aim for what he really want it and hold unto it. Cease living a lie. Because of all this? It was all a lie. John knew as much and he knew Terry knew as much too. Was never about therapy. About that crap he inhaled into his nose. It was about passion. Terry being built from it. Every drop of blood in his veins singing out for it. He wasn't built for a half-assed existence. Neither of them were. You weren't either, that was for sure. The old wound was rendered open, bleeding inwardly and one last time, John decides to press his finger into it for good measure. -"Not quite the life you dreamed of, huh?"- He prods and Terry's face and eyes shoot up towards him, appearing haunted, like someone who's seen a ghost. At this point, you stood on the edge of his estate next to a wall of pale rocks on a sandy white dune, windswept against the swaying palm trees, quiet and dignified with your beverage in hand. You could've had your children's children with Terry by your side at this point, going for a coastline stroll at dusk. Funny how when you lose one battle, you tend to lose all of them and one domino collapsing leads to all of them following suit; he supposed that's why he took the tournament loss in 1985 as hard as he did even though Terry never quite understood his reasoning, but he came here today to fix that. Fix forty years of mistake making and put back everything in order. Starting with you. Starting with Terry. Because it was better late than never. Things were only ever truly lost when one gave up fighting and if John had to, he'd prefer going down while still wearing his boots. Remembering to blink, Terry practically spits his words. It was all a ploy, of course. A mask. A carefully curated facade. To conceal just how raw he was right now. John would let him have his coping mechanisms, for now, if that's what he needed. To bullshit and delude himself some more.

-"What'd you tell her to get her to agree to come out here?"-

Only the truth, John thought of himself, so help me God.

Terry's hand grabs the edge of his jacket, pulling him closer, squeezing the zipper.

Careful now, or his guests would find their host isn't quite as mindful as he touts himself.

That there was, perhaps, a bit of Cobra Kai still present inside of him.

That it never left. It was merely brumating.

Now rearing its head; waking up.

-"I told you that you never stopped loving her. Did I lie?"-

John drawls steadily and just like that, Terry's fingers let him go and before John can blink, he's already gone, long legs strutting and rushing down the foyer past a baffled member of staff, away from the balcony, practically rushing down the stairs, leaving John behind. Showtime, he thinks to himself, once Terry's voice, loud and abrupt, echoes across the foyer, reaching his ears like a brewing tempest. -"I’ll need the premises cleared out. Now! Show’s over!"- He shouts. John doesn't see it in action, but his senses sure enjoy the sound of complete and utter wrath shaking up the ground floor of the manor. He hears the grand main entrance down below practically swing open with a loud thud and he witnesses Terry, on the lawn, sauntering towards his own guest, hands open, ordering them out. No two ways around it. Baby, now we're talking. Oh, we're back in business, alright --- some pleased, content part of John's whispers in response. As if on cue, the so far unseen security detour scours the premises in black suits, ushering people out, one by one and all it took was one line on Terry's part. That's precisely the man John remembered. The man he called his friend. -"Everyone."- Terry assesses himself and the giggling woman from the newspaper jumps up from the wicker garden recliner, her mouth practically plopping open, Martini glass adorned with a garnish forgotten on a nearby table. -"What do you mean!?"- She practically squeaks, demanding answers in a shrill voice. John didn't blame her, but it was too damn pleasing to see, like scratching a long overdue itch. -"What about my promotion, Terrence!?"- Cheyenne's shock is palpable once one of the dozen bodyguards Terry had on stand placed his hand on her shoulder, ready to show her and her posse out. -"Promotion’s canceled."- Terry clarifies bluntly, offering no further explanations, cutting the cord without remorse. Back turned towards the balcony in his blue blazer, John doesn't see his expression, but he doesn't have to; it was the words he caught from upstairs that mattered. The fact your attention was caught by the ruckus was what mattered. Standing on the beach front, you turn your head to the commotion, slightly perplexed and frightened by all the noise, no doubt --- the sun was sinking into the ocean and the dimmed skyline behind you was nightfall purple, solar torches flickering alive all around the grounds like so many stars.

John was a good friend. Always. One way or another.

Even when his intent was immediately clearly understood.

He'd clear the terrain for you and Terry to be alone.

By any means necessary.

This was war.

The first among many battles.

And he's just won the chief one.

-"Sir, everyone's been told to evacuate the premises."-

One of the waiters fearfully approaches him; some boy in his late twenties by the looks of it, carrying a tray of something he entirely wouldn't mind having, for a change, considering the circumstances and the scene unfolding in front of him. A good Macallan in a massive crystal decanter. Not bad. Not bad at all. Finally --- a man's drink. Was time for a celebration. -"Nope. Don't think I will, kiddo."- John helps himself, grabbing a glass and the bottle at ease, pouring himself some much-deserve refreshments refreshments, turning towards the emptied out garden lawn, watching the dispossessed, struggling girlfriend get carted out and left at the car park, roaring engines hurriedly abandoning the lot, her ginger haired friend with the Habsburg jawline comment in tow. Emile, was it? Good riddance. Sometimes, someone's sole purpose in life was to serve as an example; the example here being, offensive words and shittalking don't come cheap and John Kreese always find a way to dish out payback. Often, much sooner than anyone would've hoped. Life comes at you fast. John brings the edge of the glass to his mouth, relishing the taste of things working out just the way he knew it would, observing Terry cleaning house, guiding the last of his guests out, towards the front gate. Was it tremendously ethical to have one woman moved out only for another one to immediately take her place? Absolutely not. John knew you'd have your reservations. That you'd pity those undeserving of pity because you were a fundamentally good person, just like his Betsy used to be. That you'd pity those who'd never pity you. Who'd barely show you a molecule of respect. That you'd fight against this, in your own way, citing ethics. Kindness. Honor. But, there was no ethics in warfare. Only winners and losers. And this victory belonged to you. To him. To Terry himself. To Cobra Kai. Whether you liked it or not. You'd learn to like it. He sighs, content, the heavy, hearty liquor taste burning his tongue as he addressed the baffled waiter eyeing him he had a pair of horns growing from his forehead. Hilarious. -"But I do think I'll have that drink now. Today deserves a toast."- Terry's form disappears somewhere in the shadow of his palm tree lot on the precipice of the beach where you stood just a moment ago and John knew then that he's done a good job. The rest of the battle was up to his Lieutenant.

John smiles against his hard liquor, enjoying the lays rays of the sunset's golden hour.

He nearly busted out laughing once a question came unbidden into his mind.

Who's gonna eat all that Tofu and vegetable screws now?

---

Desperation.

His heart is pounding like a drum when he finds you by the incoming tide, concealed by the shadow of an Acacia tree from the fallout of the evening, arms wrapped around your torso and he reaches out, on instinct, thirty years of yearning contained in a single touch. You seem like you were worried. Scared. A verge away from crying. Windswept by the salty gusts of air blown in from the coastline. He needs you. Needs you. Needs you so badly, he could imagine myself dying, combusting, if he didn't embrace you here and now, protecting you from everything and anything that surrounded you. Pulling you close to him. You nearly stutter when you see him walking into sight, leaving John in the manor and relying on his security to close the gates and show everyone out into the streets; he was certain half of The Valley would be talking about this by tomorrow but he could always use the excuse that he was an old man who needed his rest and that his guests --- well, they simply stayed longer than propriety allowed. Did it matter? Fuck them all. Fuck everything and everyone. He was happy. Feral. Crestfallen. So many years. So many. He wants to shout at the sky like a lost, howling dog. -"Terry, what's happening back there!? What are you doing here!?"- You ask in a hurry, confused, unsure if you should stay or leave, panic highlighting your voice and your eyes resembling a deer caught in the headlights of a moving car speeding your way. Leave? Not a chance. Not ever again. He'd burn the World down if you ever deprived him of your company for even but a moment. The palms of his hands encircle your face and before he knows it, his body is conjoined with yours with every atom of ache, nostalgia and heartache bleeding together and it feels like time is standing and rushing all at once, caught amidst his fingertips grazing your skin. You're cold.

He'll be your warmth.

Your friend, your confidante, your family, your lover.

He wants to know everything. Absolutely everything.

Every minute, every second of your life between now and 1985.

-"What I should've done thirty two years ago."-

Terry murmurs, kissing you with such a ferocity his yellow shades slide off the top of his head and into the sand under his feet.

Fuck's sake, he could weep.

[nierly-amazing]

Controversial opinion: Nier Automata's story would have benefited a lot from the creative freedom of being an indie game with more queer & disabled writers, and writers from heavily colonized places

Probably less controversial to those who are still following my gay ass.

It already manages to be a masterpiece on it's own but there's always going to be constraints in big budget games to appeal to a wider audience--like the rumor/fact/idr that 9S was going to be a girl initially but got changed. There's a lot of good input queer and disabled creatives could have offered from their life experiences and how it relates to some of the transhumanist themes in the game. A lot of people seem to forget the machines have been colonizing earth and genociding the androids for 6000 years and those themes could have been expanded on more too.

Like yay we get lesbian 6O and implied trans Pascal but it doesn't really go anywhere with them. The anime does go more into Pascal and machines swapping parts and 9S completely dismissing it but then they never touch on it again (unless they still plan to but with 4 episodes left I doubt it). I want to see 9S have a crisis over it, (and 2E 2B have a crisis over him having a crisis about it).

It'd be interesting to see more a of a discrepancy between high-end porcelain doll yorha models and underfunded ancient Resistance androids. They all look like normal humans. Even the ship of theseus trader guy with the bad leg looks like a regular android. Give me some androids with fucked up body mods that causes 9S to have another crisis (because this boy can fit so many crises in him). Something something parallels with relationships to gender something something 9S is trans and transphobic--doesn't understand the FEEELINGS or what to do about them.

Yorha could have much stricter rules on body modification that's drilled into the android's heads from day one and then they see the machines swap parts with no reservations and resistance androids swap parts with some reservations. Even the whole "emotions are prohibited" thing could be touched on more with more internal struggle in 9S over his inability to act emotionless, and perhaps touch on the point of conflict with 2B who poorly pretends to have her emotions in check.

Maybe some conflict between the machines in pascals village and how rigid they are in trying to emulate humans. Like a group trying to emulate rigid gender roles despite not having assigned genders or sex characteristics, and a group that just does whatever. Like "no you have to choose" but also "humans didn't choose (mostly) so who cares".

And then there's the fact that most machines in pascal's village are not fully sapient, or are maybe coded as children still learning the world and something something its 1am something something how much should their level of sapience matter

Even with 9S's memory "issues" we only have 1 moment in the anime where he has a flash of past memories. Imagine if his descent into grief-stricken madness in route C had his old deleted memories start resurfacing and mixing with his current ones. Or maybe the machine network had copies of some of them and used them to torment him more.

Imagine if they showed Anemone and Devpop try harder to help him but weren't able to due to them not fully understanding what he's going through and their own hangups about machines. Imagine him being unable to really open up to anyone because he doesn't fully understand what he's going through.

9S """racism""" toward machines isn't at all unique to him. They've been genociding the androids for 6000 years, everyone hates them. I want to see more opinions from resistance androids, especially regarding pascal's village. Even Anemone/Lily aren't completely fine with the idea of trading with machines but are basically forced to out of desperation since the council of humanity left them on read. I want to see more of their internal strife with the concept. I want to see some conflict between resistance and yorha androids, too, and conflict within the resistance over the idea of aiming for a peace treaty.

There could also be some good conflict between 2B and 9S over 2B's willingness to just "accept" pascal's village. Since they both have valid points for their opinions (2B's a big softie and doesn't want to fight and 9S sees pacifist machines 'suddenly' popping up after 6000 years as a mega giganto trap (and why wouldn't he?)).

I would have liked to see more interactions with other androids and how they manage in a posthuman world and them trying to replicate humanity from 11,000 years ago. We have little bits and pieces like the bit where the operators give commander a bunch of brown things for valentine's day instead of chocolates.

Oops I thought I was gonna write like 2 paragraphs but I blacked out and wrote an essay. It's late I might expand on this tomorrow but here's some stuff 2 think about

(and bonus extra controversial opinion but it's kinda fucked up that there's the whole theme about robot sentience and then you can go stab fish in the face for fun and kill moose and boar for a quest so an android--who doesn't need to eat at all--can try eating them. Like here we are arguing about fictional robot sentience and then ignoring actual real animal sentience in our daily lives to the point where we don't even question how messed up killing them for non-survival reasons is)

[chimkin-samich]

Hiya! It’s been a while since I asked you lot a question. (Also I’m sorry if I ask to many questions. My friends call me Whiskers cause I’m curious like a cat 🐈.)

Anyways, I have two strange questions: 1. In the Mermaid AU, are Sun and Moon more fish-like, reptilian, or mammal-like? Also, how exactly do mer people… breed/reproduce? It’s a weird question, I know. It’s been bugging me for a while. If you don’t know, just say nothing or make shit up.

I also created characters inspired by your artwork for my fanfic The Royal Blooded Assassin. Thank you for creating such amazing artwork and stories, I really enjoy them 🫶

Aaaaaa so happy you asked since we got into the deep world building of this not long ago, ima put it under a read more cuz it’s prob gonna be long lol

Also added some merboys lore at the end of how they met since with the world building it makes more sense

AND AAAAAA VERY HAPPY WE INSPIRED YOU TO MAKE CHARACTERS BITING BITING

The merboys are a combination of fish and reptile, their skin is more reptile scale like (think of a shark skin but not as sharp) since it helps them cut through the water much easier which allows them to be able to shoot through the water with a sudden quick flick of their tail (especially Moon since he hunts like a great white, attacking with a burst of speed from below)

Although there are mammal like Mers based on whales and dolphins that have blubber like skin, mers come in large variety’s just the boys are in the similar subspecies Sun is a lion fish, moon is an angler and eclipse is a hybrid of a non-venomous lion fish (that’s why he doesn’t have spines like sun) and angler

As for mating and breeding, fish like mers like the boys are polyamorous, they tend to mate in groups of 3 and more with usually 1 female and multiple males, the males aren’t always mates with each other but it’s not a must, it’s usually done since it allows them to provide for their young and the female more efficiently as well as genetic diversity (a mer can genetically have 3-4 parents)

They are able to change their sex so if their are say 2 females and 1 male one of them will change to make the ratio be 1 F and 2 M and vice versa If say it’s 3M one of them (usually the most dominant) will become the female, the only difference is those that swapped sex aren’t as fertile but it’s not a major issue just a bit more difficult to conceive (females that were originally male do have smaller clutches tho so instead of the usual 5-6 it’s 2-4)

Mammal like mers are the opposite but they do have larger family pods with more generations, they are also matriarchal like the boys pods (it’s the majority but not the rule that all mers are matriarchal)

Fish mers either group in just mated partners like Moons pod was only his parents and siblings, but sometimes another group will be in the same territory, its never more than 3 family groups to a pod, Suns pod was the opposite being a much more social species they group into large groups of up to 3-5 family groups

Gonna add some more stuff like their habits and such since ima already typing lol,

Mers stay in their pods up until their about 12, once they reach that age their forced out to prove themselves in the wilds on their owns, and they can’t attempt to return until their at least 18, it’s a way of both making sure the most adaptable make it to adulthood and population control, they want to make sure the mers in the group are able to help sustain the group, but most mers usually end up forming their own groups since it’s also a period for them to find possible mates, sometime (in Suns species case at least) mers will return with their partners to add into their original family group, making the pod a bit bigger but it’s not very common

Mers also begin having heats near the age of 14 so that’s where the mate finding part comes in

And for a bit of lore with the boys now that y’all know this

Eclipse was a hybrid, his mother (sun sub species) was attacked by a lone desperate mer (moons species) in heat and eclipse was the only one to survive in the clutch, he stuck around until the age of 10 due to his mother protecting and teaching him, but when she was killed in a hunt he was casted out by the dominant male (rare but it happens that a male can lead the pod), he was already nearing the size of an adult (he has gigantism and double arms due to being a hybrid) at that age so it felt like a threat to them, so off he went into the wild until later finding Sun at the age of 15 and Moon at the age of 17

Sun was separated from his pod during an attack when he was about 10 and was on his own for a few months before Eclipse caught him snooping around his territory, Sun would have been terrified of Eclipse if weren’t for the fact that the fins around his head look similar to his own, so he figured it was someone of his species and latched on immediately, Eclipse being lonely and a complete sweetheart adopted him into his solo pod on the spot

Moon joined the group at around 13-14, he had been having a horrible time during his coming of age trial since he was a bigger loner than his species already once and refused to really sit down and listen when his parents tried to teach him survival skills, He meets sun first when he enters their cave looking for food, which Sun was eating, Sun seeing him starving hands it to him and once he’s finished Moons exhaustion and loneliness catches up and he cuddles up to sun, Eclipse finds them and just adopts Moon on the spot as well

Their ages go (at least once they mate with Tari)

Sun:32 Moon:33 Eclipse:37

Sun and Moon were separated from Eclipse when they were 15 and 16 when they were captured, Eclipse does end up finding them since a few years after they disappeared he goes back to his nomadic lifestyle of before, so they rejoin together when sun and moon are about 30-31, Since he caught their scent when they went back to their old cave hoping eclipse would be there before beginning to look for Tari after she helped them escape the aquarium

Eclipse does end up trying to kill Tari when he sees her for the first time cuz he smells their scent on him and assumes she did something to them, she blinds him for a few days cuz she pokes his eyes escaping his grasp before getting attacked by Sun and Moon, Hes cold towards her the first few months but warms up as he sees the interactions between her and the other 2, his hard shell fully cracks tho when she first says she thinks he’s pretty

The only others that had called him pretty were the researchers constantly searching for him (he has forums dedicated to him cuz of how unique he is) but it felt detached like just saying a painting is pretty, and Sun and Moon but they preferred calling him cool, so when someone hes starting to get along with calls him pretty that hard ass attitude basically disappears and he begins his own courting not long after lol

Eclipse isn’t considered attractive by his species standards because of the discoloration and double arm mutation so he has some self esteem issues in that regard, they went away when Sun and Moon were in his pod since they never judged him but came back in his isolation, Tari helps to ebb that away again once they start getting along and more when he begins his courting

Also Their basically immortal (like lobsters) but it’s really rare to find one that’s lived longer than 2 centuries most tend to die at the age of 70-90 due to you know living in the wilds

[pray-montana]

As someone who is also a despicable me fan I’d love to hear some headcannons for Valentina (as someone who struggles with making headcannons I’d like to hear some from another persons view)

Thank you very much for your question. I couldn’t even imagine that someone would be interested in my opinion about the DM characters!

Unfortunately, the summary about Valentina is quite vague, but this has its advantages. So the field for thought becomes much wider ✍️✍️✍️

I'd like to start by saying that Valentina is an ally, but also independent of Maxime and his views on villainy (not like Harley and Joker.) This makes her not only a modern woman but also a strong character if the writers aren't lazy. It’s a pity that her summary and explanations contain no specific facts, other than the fact that she is cool and a proponent of a healthy lifestyle💀

• I think that in her relationship with Maxime, she is the voice of reason. Even if he believes that he's the head of the family, he makes the final decisions after considering her reasonable arguments. She's able not only to convince Maxime, but also to cheer him up in the worst times, even if it doesn’t seem so at first.

• Compared to Maxime's bright appearance and eccentric behavior, she silently shows who is trash here.

• She, unlike Maxime, is a perfect pilot of their giant ship. Plus, judging by her emotions in some of the shots, she really enjoys it! In this, I understand her 🏎️💨

• Sofía Vergara claimed that Valentina's arrogant personality also concealed a soft side. I believe that this side is personified in her dog, who, in contrast, looks very friendly. At first I even thought that it would be better for them to even swap pets with Poppy.

• I think she was that rich straight-A student in high school. BUT! It wasn't for nothing that she was considered the coolest girl at the Lycée. She looks very intelligent, reserved, and calculating, which is perfect for a villain. C'mon, she got her boyfriend out of jail?!?!?

• She has a whole ritual of preparing for going out, from beauty procedures to choosing outfits and combing her pet's hair. But Maxime still gets ready longer, even though he has half as much to do.

• Valentina looks like a trendsetter. She probably has a whole collection of branded shoes, handbags and other luxury items.

• Valentina is SINCERE in her relationship with Maxime. Have you seen the shot of her smiling enthusiastically when he shows her his invention? God, I want to wish this dynamic for everyone who wants to find a healthy relationship.

• I'm convinced that she knows a lot about humor, and in a way that not everyone will understand: Valentina will joke with the same serious face and voice as usual. You just need to listen to the words. (Perhaps her vibe is somewhat reminiscent of Daria series?)

• I think she actually doesn't treat Gru badly and may even enlist his help in the film. At the meeting, she simply doesn't care about Gru and everyone else. But she'll only help to take revenge for the sake of Maxime... as long as it's sounds like a good idea

• I think that before her relationship with Maxime, Val was disdainful of insects. However, she then worked through the issue and became neutral with it. By the way, she vibes like a dragonfly, don’t you agree?

• Val had to get used to the fact that her partner was special not only in personality but also... Well, in general, at the moment she has no problems with Maxime's features. Great message about accepting other people. I respect that!

• She may be soft on the inside, but she doesn’t act like she’s being overly cute. She looks like an adult woman and shows gentleness, attention, and care like an adult too.

• She often has to save Maxime from trouble, even from the stupidest ones, like a flytrap. But it doesn't annoy her at all🤲

• I am convinced that Valentina was the one who instilled self-confidence in Maxime and offered him a way to present himself, based on his hidden qualities!

In any case, I am sure that the relationship between Valentina and Maxime will be harmonious not only within the framework of being villains, but also as ordinary people. They don't look like people I'd want to wish bad things upon.

[jumalanpelko]

Will you write more comics after this?

Hope so ! I love your work

Omg thank you!!

And yes! I plan to! Let me show some stufff >:3

1. Ruotola (Fishbone isle)

This one is a long boi! It is more slice of life comic that keeps taking dark turns when we figure out whats going on, but not like. A tragedy. It tells the story of Turska (Cod, the round cat) a super quiet cat who starts trying to solve other cats' issues (Amelie style kinda?)

Also Turska and Varpu (the sharp cat) are based on Suncat and Guard thats why they look similar! But where Suncat and Guard are unhealthy cause they cant deal with stuff without each other Turska and Varpu are unhealthy cause Varpu is like. Very distant.

2. Tulitanssija reboots but in Jumalanpelko world

I wrote a huge magic cat book when i was a kid and its shitty but I love some cats in it and been making little stories for them. I had one that was HUGE but broke them down in smaller stories. They take place in the same world as Jumalanpelko but do not have same characters in them

The first one is about Naakkatar (jackdawness) and Ukko (Old man), trans cats in a qpr who have learned to swap bodies with each others and are on the run. They have to deal with another "god". Honestly a wholesome story.

And the second one is about Lysti (Joy/Fun) and Vitka (slow). Lysti is a... cat who is a prisoner under the ground and Vitka is a cat who finds her on accident.

I dont know if i will make these two but! I love them.

3. Werewolf thing

Story that helps me to deal with my feelings as a person who was a queer autistic kid without knowing but still knowing that somethings up. So a werewolf kid hanging out with a dog and trying to find the wolf who turned them.

This one might become a comic or a novel we shall see.

(I am writing this in school pretending to listen so there are more errors than usually lmao i wont fix them)

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hii! Idk if you've ever done something similar, but what do you think about TADC x Skater! Reader? Like, Reader always have their skates on, like it's a part of their digital costume or smth. And i really mean ALWAYS. Someone spilled water on the floor? Reader slips down. They go on an adventure and a part of the floor is inclined? (Like a hill for example) There goes reader down the hill. I think it would be pretty funny lol

Btw, i really love your page, keep it up and don't overwork yourself

TADC cast x rollerskater!reader

Anon I am so so so sorry !! I dont know if I personally got jumbled up or my inbox has been wonky silly goofy or I just got thrown off because of so many people sending stuff in, but I also missed this as well as some other requests 😭😭

This one may be a little short since I've never skated <\3

Written this as more platonic leaning !

CAINE:

Probably poofs himself his own rollerskates, literally the only time you see him on the ground and it's so weird to look at. You guys both slip and fall because bubble wiped themselves across the floor or something

Obviously leads to bubble getting popped

Honestly seeing caine struggle to keep steady while using the rollerskates is... very funny.. look at his lil legs wobble (tell anyone and he will tilt the ground of the next IHA)

POMNI:

Honestly she would probably slip on the floor too if its wet or has marbles. She looks like she would comically fall over, with her legs flinging straight up into the air before plopping down

Looks at you confused as you visibly try to calculate how fast this one little slope will make you go, she probably forgets you have skater feet in the beginning

Subconsciously tries to grab and stop you when you start rolling, but because shes so small you just drag her with you

Theres that squeaky noise as shes being dragged across the floor

Yk the sound

JAX:

Throws marbles on the floor as well as other things that can make you stumble or slip... probably soaps up the floor.. thank god hes just a circus rmemeber and not like, a ringmaster... this dude would tolt the floor in so many different angles just to fuck with you... thankfully, he cant do that!

Though in another timeline... perhaps you werent so lucky...

Not much to be said here, with the bit with zooble in the pilot (the arm thing), jax is more than ready to use peoples unique digital qualities to please him or mess with them, and you being his friend only makes you slightly less likely to be messed with

RAGATHA:

Keeps a hand on your shoulder when she notices the floor is tilted, tends to walk with you while holding your shoulder still. She can only imagine what it's like to be s victim of slopes.. it would drive her nuts.. as long as shes around shes going to do her damndest to make sure you dont roll away or slip... unless jax literally throws marbles in front of you two at the very last second because who can predict that..?

In any case where theres an IHA with a DEEP slope I think she just might resort to carrying you so you dont go FLYING down

ZOOBLE:

Okay you guys might not have the same issues but they can relate to you in the jax department, with him using your qualities to his advantage. Its absolute hell.. I think it would be this shared thing that leads to you guys building a relationship in the first place

That one meme where it's two people at the bar and they overhear each other saying "I hate (x)" then they start making out

Thats you guys ranting about the bunny/j

Offered you some parts before realizing that you cant swap out your limbs like they can

"Ah, bummer"

KINGER:

Has probably asked you why you dont just take them off when you vent to him about jax putting marbles on the floor. Kind of sounds like when people say shit such as "oh you're depressed? Just cheer up!" But like, kinger says it in a genuinely.. not malicious or tone deaf way.. like I dontt think he knows, or perhaps he thinks you're like zooble with detachable limbs and you have another pair of feet hanging around somewhere

Gives a soft "oh.. " when you demonstrate that they are attatched to you

Offers to let you strap pillows to yourself to soften any blows when you fall, let's you have his softest and thickest pillows... what do you mean it throws off your balance...?

GANGLE:

You have probably accidentally rammed into her after misjudging how steep a hill on the ground was

Good news! She stopped your momentum!

Bad news, shes all tangled up in your skates (owie!) And her comedy mask is broken (oh no!)

Please be careful getting her out. We don't want her ribbons to tear or get damaged, we cant have our girl start fraying!