#someone drop a link to read the full comic book please please please please please pleas

[hopeandmanymilestogo]

Everyone who's read it (and even those who have not) should listen to this album btw. It's intended to be a fan-made soundtrack for the comic book, and Don Rosa himself provided the art for the album cover.

It was my literal lifeline for the entire year after it was released and I will be forever grateful for its existence

[teejaystumbles]

Sorry Dreamling shippers for I have sailed to the shores of imaginings after comic canon… this contains major spoilers for the end of The Sandman, so please only read if you know the comic books or do not care if you’re spoilered. I could not resist, I need to write my thoughts down because I simultaneously love and hate the end of Sandman. This is based on and begins after “An Epilogue, Sunday Mourning”. (Also there is now a second part continuing after this: link )

Hob sat alone in his living room, nursing a bottle of wine. Gwen had left an hour ago when she realized he needed time to himself. He was thinking again about the dream he’d had at the fair. Walking along a beach...together with his oldest friend, and a stranger with long hair who he had met only once and who laughed very loudly.

“Why did you give me that dream?” he said to the empty air.

“To say Goodbye? I was at your funeral, you know. Everyone was, I think. Only then I really understood who you were… dream king.”

Hob sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, feeling unshed tears sting in his eyes. “I know you meant well, but I didn’t need that dream. Now I’m just sad again...that you’re gone, and no-one will meet me in 94 years…”

“I apologize. It was not my intention to make you sad.”

Hob’s head shot up at the voice, unfamiliar and yet… Before him stood a man, more a boy, really, as white as moonlight, or bone or… Hob didn’t know. He seemed like the opposite of his friend, but his eyes were somehow the same. He was wearing modern clothes, what looked like tight jeans and a leather jacket over a hoodie – all of it white. On his chest gleamed an emerald.

“You… you’re not him.”

The being shook it’s white fuzzy chin-length hair. “No. I am Dream. But I am not Morpheus...the one who met you every century.”

“Dream…” Hob repeated in awe, finally having been granted a name to call his friend (not his friend, someone else – Morpheus, his name was Morpheus-) by.

The man nodded. “Again, I apologize for causing you pain. I remember our meetings and I know that… he was very fond of you. A part of me...wanted to meet you myself.”

The being named Dream lowered his gaze, almost shy.

“It is presumptuous, I know, but I was wondering…”

He looked at Hob with a face full of hope.

“If you would be willing to... continue our – your – arrangement...to meet every 100 years…”

Hob studied the other’s face and mulled over his words.

“Why?”

Dream’s mouth dropped open but he didn’t say anything. Hob felt a sharp pain twisting inside, and so he continued, ruthlessly, mercilessly.

“Why would you want that? I know why he did. He didn’t understand humanity, not well, not in the beginning. Maybe he understood it too well, in the end… and he was lonely, I think.”

Hob smiled to himself and took a drink of his wine. He looked away from the boy, at the floor.

“I never thought he’d be the first of us to go… have been wondering lately… if I should…”

The white chucks (honestly? Damn, kid) of the other stepped into his view and Hob looked back up. The young man’s eyes were glistening wetly and Hob was fascinated against his will. His old friend had never shed a tear in his vicinity. He had been angry, and very rarely, amused, if any emotion could be read from his aloof face at all. This one didn’t look angry, just sad, and lost.

“I understand if you do not wish to meet with me, Robert Gadling. I want you to know that I would not have you believe that you are forgotten, though. I remember… I remember… and I feel…”

Hob frowned. “What do you mean? Either you are him, or you aren’t. Right?”

Dream shook his head a fraction.

“I am not, and yet I am. I know you, like he knew you. I...care for you...like he did. But it feels like it’s a book someone has been reading to me, like a movie I watched from behind his eyes...”

He fell silent and looked at the floor again. His hands in his jacket pockets seemed to clench. “It is real enough for me that I know I miss you. But I know that for a human it must be impossible...to let go of the part of me you knew… to...accept me instead.”

Their eyes met and the air felt charged. Hob inhaled sharply and breathed out through his nose. I miss you. “So, what. You want to keep meeting up every century?”

“If you wish to.”

“I don’t know… it was kind of his thing, you know? It always felt like every hundred years was all he would allow himself. Didn’t want to get too distracted from his job, I guess.”

Dream inclined his head in silent agreement. Hob examined the other closely before he said: “Not you, though. I think you need to learn a bit more, and more quickly. You’re a kid.”

Did he imagine the barest blush on Dream’s cheeks? The young man opened his mouth to retort but closed it again. Hob grinned.

“Tell you what, Dream, I’m free this weekend. We can make popcorn, watch a movie. I also make good tea.”

Dream stared at him a bit wide-eyed and Hob thought he had misjudged. But then, slowly, a small smile bloomed on the young man’s lips. He stepped closer to the table and pulled one of his hands out of his jacket. As he put a tiny blood-red flower into Hob’s empty wine glass he said, still smiling:

“I look forward to it.”

[biolizardboils]

Sooooo i wrote up the whole Dog Man Comix thing for r/HobbyDrama! Link to that here, full copied text below. (Note to self: pin this post if it ever starts spreading again)

——————————————————————————————————

Finally done with my first Hobby Scuffle! It’s not a full Drama because I was involved, and it’s not History because it’s been happening on an off for five years now. A special thanks to u/nissincupramen, u/ailathan, and u/Dlight98 for showing interest and giving advice!

(Disclaimer: All profiles linked were public at the time of posting. Please don’t harass anyone involved, they probably don’t remember said involvement anyway.)

[Literature] Dog Man Comix: How a children’s book page fooled the Internet

Dav Pilkey has been making children’s books since 1987, and has earned nearly every award the career can offer (Caldecott, NYT Best Seller List, getting banned for trivial reasons). Captain Underpants, his biggest claim to fame, is informed by his experience of growing up with ADHD and dyslexia in a less-than-accommodating school system. (He’s been very open about this during school visits and interviews—here’s a transcript of one.)

His cheeky commentary on the issue has garnered a following of kids and adults with similar struggles. Sometimes pages from his books will circulate online, causing insightful discussion and laughs aplenty along the way.

And sometimes, they lead to Wil Wheaton (and many, many others) cheering for a kid that doesn’t exist.

But before I can tell you that story, I have to tell you this story…

Chapter 1: Background and Original Post

On March 22nd, 2017, DreamWorks dropped a trailer for Captain Underpants: The First Epic Movie. Millennials worldwide exclaimed “Woah, I loved these books and I love how faithful this is to their tone and art style!” Then, “Woah, this series is even better than I remember!” and “Dav wrote 4 more CU books after I grew out of them, and their commentary on how American schooling fails neurodivergent kids is sharper than ever!”

I took part in this moment in history, and it was awesome. It was also the catalyst for the biggest mistake of my life.

20 days later, I saw some of Dav’s more recent outings in a bookstore and read them out of curiosity. One of them was Dog Man, a graphic novel spin-off penned by George and Harold, the young protagonists of Captain Underpants.

The first book (and only the first, for some reason) contains in-universe documents from the boys’ kindergarten days, when they first made comics together. My favorite of these was a refocus form Harold was punished with for copying said comics with a teacher’s printer.

“How will my behavior change in the future?: [sic] be more Quieter When making copies of Dog Man Comix in office.

I am ready to re-join the classroom.: No

Why?: Too busy making Dog Man comix”

I thought it was hilarious. So hilarious, in fact, that I had to share it with the growing CU community. So I took a photo and posted it to Tumblr.

Please note how I tagged the post with Captain Underpants, Dog Man, and Harold’s full name. Please note the 200,000+ likes and reblogs, as well.

(cont. in next reply)

Chapter 2: Initial Spread ft. Wil Wheaton

I don’t know how or when the post escaped the CU fandom. My best guess is that someone with way more followers reblogged it without the tags, and thus without the context. All I know is that one day in early May, my phone wouldn’t stop buzzing.

When I checked it, The Post was getting more notes at a faster rate than my blog had ever known before or since. I was delighted to finally be “Tumblr famous”… until I read the comments and tags. Turns out, people thought my photo was of a real form, written by a real kid.

Maybe if I’d edited The Post’s main body and added the context, its spread would’ve stopped then and there. Instead, I commented on it in a way people were guaranteed not to notice and left to do something else.

It hit 3k later that day. The next, it reached 7k. This is when the floodgates truly opened, and I learned the true magnitude of my mistake.

Day in and day out, people were asking where they could find these “Dog Man comix”. Others cheered Harold on for fighting the system, promising to support his future career. I got DM’d under the pretense that I was Harold’s mother.

And if you’re thinking “surely somebody here grew up with Dav’s books and recognized Harold,” you’re correct! Lots of these commenters either deduced Dav’s involvement or found out through Google. (More than one accused me of fooling everyone on purpose.) But for every one of those comments, there were ten more that were oblivious. Even better, some came close but fell just short (i.e. “isn’t this how Dav Pilkey started out lol”; “Someone needs to get this in front of Dav Pilkey stat”). These ones were so funny and frustrating all at once that they’re my favorites to this day.

So why did so many people think the form was real? I’ve had lots of time to ponder this, and I’ve boiled it down to these factors:

People who grew up with CU won’t necessarily know about Dog Man. The eighth and ninth CU books came out six years apart: more than enough time for young readers to grow out of the series or even forget its existence. I know I did before the Movie was announced. Even post-announcement, not everyone hyped for it was guaranteed to look up what Dav’s been up to.

The elements that mark this as something from CU are obscured just enough to pass detection. Harold Hutchins’ fictionality can be confirmed with a Google search, but his last name is initialized on the form. Every teacher in the series has a punny name, but Ms. Construde’s is misspelled here in a way that obscures this. (Not to mention she didn’t appear in the main series, and “misconstrued” isn’t a common word anyway.) Harold’s sketch of Dog Man himself is hard to make out under Construde’s notes.

The book’s pages were shiny, which should’ve been a dead giveaway (nobody laminates refocus forms, AFAIK). However, I took the photo in a dimly-lit bookstore at an angle that minimized the shine to the bottom-right corner.

Finally, refocus forms were kinda upsetting as a kid. Getting your drawings written over in angry red ink was scary, too. I got yelled at more than once for doodling on my notes, and a LOT of people commented with similar stories. Honestly, it’s easy to choose not to research something if its message hooks you in at first sight.

As for how everyone overlooked the red background or the improbability of a kindergartener using a printer… yeah, I got nothin’.

Now, I will admit to leading a few people on, hoping they’d look up the names and realize their error. (Not sure if that ever worked.) But for the most part, I explained things to anyone who asked to see more of Harold’s comix—sometimes in my own words, sometimes with just a photo of the book’s cover. I made a specific tag for these responses and related posts, which is how I’m able to cite so many old comments and accurately track The Post’s growth. (You can read it in chronological order here, if you dare.)

But by then, new comments were coming in so fast that I had no hope of replying to them all. At some point I resigned to simply changing my blog’s description whenever The Post flared up and hoping people would check it. I don’t remember what it said, but I have record of it working exactly once.

Anyway, Wil Wheaton reblogged The Post that September and commented, “Stay strong, Harold.” It had a sizable spike in activity right after, but I didn’t know it was due to him (or even who he was) until a friend alerted me.

By winter, I’d developed a routine. Check The Post. Pray it wouldn’t flare up again. Freak out whenever it did. Change my blog description, maybe pin an explanatory post. Reply to some angry and sad comments, reblog some funny ones. Wait for things to calm down and return to Step 1. The guilt was killing me. I had to come clean with what I’d done, and all the confusion and upset it had caused.

And when you’re dying to confess your sins, you might as well head to the very top.

(cont. in next reply)

Chapter 3: Coming Clean

Snail mail aside, there’s only one way to reach Dav Pilkey and reasonably expect a response: his Instagram. He’s on hiatus at the time of writing, but when the Movie came out, he liked and commented on nearly everything tagged as #captainunderpants. He even filled in minor details about his characters when asked, like their birthdays and middle names, as chronicled here.

No one knew how long this direct line to God would stay open. (He kept going for 3 years, but semantics.) And so, on Christmas Day, I explained myself to him in this admittedly badly formatted post.

He responded that same night. (Here’s me freaking out about it.)

“This is pretty amazing! Would it be okay if we reposted it?”

“@petey_haw_haw Absolutely! Thank you Mr. Pilkey!!”

Nothing ever came of that, AFAIK. Maybe he spoke before consulting his literary agent or something. No hard feelings, though—I’m still just glad he was so chill about it!

The holidays ended on a high note for me that year. Now that the man himself (and maybe his higher-ups at Scholastic) knew about The Post, I thought, maybe the relevant info will get bumped a little higher in Google, and less people will fall for it. Maybe it would even stop spreading altogether!

Chapter 4: To Make A Long Story Short

It didn’t.

Chapter 5: Further Spread

Before we get to The Post’s biggest break, let’s backtrack to a few months earlier. While I was watching the original Tumblr post like a hawk, the photo itself snuck away to infect more websites. First Facebook, then r/pics, Imgur, and…someone’s personal blog, I think? (Sorry for the tiny screencaps, I swear they were bigger when I took them five years ago. Also the ads for Dog Man books in the rightmost photo still kills me.)

Fun fact: I became a Redditor to comment on the photo whenever it got posted here. Besides r/pics (here), it’s popped up on r/me_irl (here), r/funny (here), and… a certain political sub that has since been quarantined and thus can’t be linked to. IIRC, I naively asked that last one to take it down because Scholastic might raise offense. In hindsight, I might’ve dodged a bullet there.

But the worst outbreak was still yet to come…

April 24th, 2021. I was at my day job. When my lunch break rolled around, I checked Twitter and saw that Dog Man was trending.

First I assumed it was about the Michigan cryptid. Then I hoped to God that Dav’s next book was just enjoying a stronger ad campaign than usual. Anything, anything but my photo.

Yeah, it was my photo. Cropped and straightened, but still unmistakably mine. This time it was posted by a family physician with military experience.

I tweeted at him offering to explain things and prove that I was the OP. He never replied. The Tweet itself lost steam less than a day later—possibly due to people’s kids setting the record straight—but not before amassing 18,000+ retweets, 3,500+ QRT’s, and 132,000+ likes. I was terrified the whole time.

This person declared it as “maybe the pinnacle of twitter,” though. I can boast that, at least.

Chapter 6: Conclusion and The Foreseeable Future

The Post hasn’t seen any major activity since April of last year, on Tumblr or elsewhere. Perhaps it’s finally fading into obscurity like it should have long ago.

Speaking of long ago, a recent Tumblr update has made tags and reblogs from 5+ years ago nigh-unviewable. As hard as it was to keep up with them at The Post’s peak, I’m glad I reblogged and screencapped so many when I could.

For all my complaining about The Post ruining my life, I do respect how the response it got exemplified what Dav’s works are about. Many of the people who shared their own school stories added that they were neurodivergent. I’m autistic myself, and school was a constant struggle all the way up to college. I waxed lyrical once that Dav’s jokes about school, “[…] albeit being exaggerated to the point of hilarity, [are] still hauntingly accurate and can strike a chord with readers even long after they’ve outgrown its age demographic”. Seeing that in action for five years straight felt like a curse most days, but if it made any of those commenters feel the slightest bit less alone, I’m willing to call it a blessing.

That being said, I’m still paranoid that said commenters might get wise and hunt me down for fooling them. Specifically in the next few years, because DreamWorks is working on a Dog Man movie. If this account ever goes dark, now you know why.

In the meantime, I shall continue to explain The Post wherever it pops up and contain the beast I unleashed… however in vain that may be.

TL;DR: Author writes school form from Kid’s POV. I post form without enough context. Hundreds of thousands get upset on Kid’s behalf.

[iida-zine]

We've got a tellonym for answering any questions you may have about the zine! Q&A will be below the cut, and we'll try to keep them updated. You can also access the latest info on our Carrd!

Can we submit excerpts for the writer apps?

Absolutely! Please feel free to choose just a portion of an existing fic for an application piece. We do ask that you make sure it is cohesive as a stand-alone piece, so we can judge it based on plot/flow/clarity. (Also please feel free to link to the full version in the doc in case we wanna read the rest for fun :3 But that's not required. )

Can application pieces contain manga spoilers or should those be avoided?

We're fine with spoilers in applications! You can mark them by putting "spoilers" in the file name, but that isn't necessary.

Can I illustrate and write a fanfic?

You may apply for as many positions as you'd like, but unfortunately, each person will only be chosen for one role. It is possible we could allow both down the road - for instance, if someone drops - but we want to give more people a chance to contribute to the project :)

Do our applications need to contain pieces with detailed backgrounds?

If you are applying to be a page artist, please have at least one example with a detailed background. It could be environmental or decorative, but should demonstrate your ability to create an interesting composition. If you are applying to be a merch artist, you don't need examples with backgrounds, but you should have completed merchandise designs of some sort in your portfolio.

Will there potentially be stretch goals? Would shipping be from the USA most likely? Thank you for such a great idea!

• We are hoping to have 2-3 stretch goals! :) • Shipping will be from Minnesota in the US • Thank YOU for your interest and support! <3

maybe a theme?

Our theme is the brothers & their familial relationship :) Aside from keeping it gen, we want to allow contributors to explore AUs. If this project goes well, Mod Atlass really wants to run another that has more of a limited theme :D

Can I make a comic for the zine?

Thanks for asking! We discussed this, and we will consider some applicants for making comics for the zine. 2-4 pages will be allowed per comic. Please show at least one example of previous comic work in your portfolio.

Hmm, can I show bits of my progress?

Yes! Please make sure you keep it to very small bits at once. A paragraph or two if fic, 1/4 - 1/5 of the work if art or cosplay photography. If you're wondering if something may be too much to show on socials, just ask the mods in the ask-a-mod channel or shoot one of us a DM ^^

Should we only include MHA/Iida related content in our portfolio's or are other examples welcome?

Your more than welcome to include examples from other fandoms, or original ideas! (Original ideas are great :D) We just request that (1) piece is MHA/BNHA. It does NOT have to include the Iida bros, but if you've got one that does, please show us! You can find all our app guidelines > HERE <

Can Original and Canon characters be included in the portfolio?

Yep! OCs are just as welcome as canon characters!

What exactly will the Iida-zine be and how can we gat it ?

Hello! The Iida zine will be a book filled with fanfiction, fanart, and potentially cosplay photography from various creators in the fandom. There will be merchandise (possibly stickers, prints, keychains - things like that) that can be purchased alongside the book, and there will also be a digital PDF version available! Thank you for your interest!

Will the Iida-zine cost money ?

Yes, it will. Since we are planning to make physical products, we need to charge money for it in the shop in order to get those items produced.

I missed the Interest Check.can I still participate in the Iida-zine ?

Absolutely! We do the interest check to see how many people there are that are potentially interested in purchasing the zine or applying. This helps us to know how many contributors we can invite and helps to get an idea of our budget! It is absolutely NOT required to fill the Interest Check in order to participate! We fully encourage you to apply if you are interested :D

Will there also be a version where you don't need money ? I'm sure that also miners would like to have one but maybe their parents or other family members won't buy it for them.

With projects like this, our contributors work very hard, so we'd like for them to be compensated for their work! We're really sorry for the inconvenience. There ARE some fandom zines out there that are offered for free. You can check twitter users like @/faneventshub or @/atozines - they share a bunch of projects to help signal boost and are a really great resource.

Is there something we have to do to participate in the Iida-zine ?

We are taking applications starting tomorrow! You will need a portfolio of past pieces - art for artists, fics for writers, and photos for cosplayers. At the end of the application period, our team of moderators will go through all applications and choose who we will invite to the project. You can find all of the application details and further info on the zine HERE

Do we need a certain age to participate ?

We require for page artists, merch artists, and writers to be at least 16 years of age. For cosplay, we require that you are at least 18 years of age to participate. You can find more details HERE!

Is there a limit to how many people can particular

Yes, there is a limit to participants. We will have approx. 40-50 contributors. (I wish we could have a thousand bc these boys deserve the content, but budget :') - Atlass)

Hi. So I'm a writer from Germany and would like to participate in the zine. But, since English isn't my frat language, I sometimes have some grammatical mistakes in my writing. Can I still send in a Portfolio ?

Absolutely! Grammar is always something we can help with during beta-ing. What we view as most important is the plot, pacing, and characterization.

Will the Iida-zine come out weekly once per month ore all 3 or 6 months ?

Hello! These fandom zine projects take many months to put together. ^^ This zine (IidaTenBros) will come out this fall, and is a one-time project. Mod Atlass hopes to do more Iida zines in the future - however, nothing is set in stone. You can see our creation & production schedule HERE

I really hope that there will be kre then one. I just love these brothers so much

;w; They deserve ALL the love.

If there's a fic one is writing, does it necessarily need to have both brothers, or can they be focused on just one?

If you're talking for applications - it is NOT a requirement to have either of the brothers in your pieces. We do like to see how you represent them, if you have the content - but not having a Tenya or Tensei piece will not hurt you. We only want to see one BNHA piece as a requirement :) Now, if you get accepted into the project - the zine piece can center on ONE -or- BOTH brothers. You can just do one. Hopefully I answered your question!

I'm excited for this zine and believe the Iida's are truly underated characters however I saw it's a requirment to have at least one bnha sample and alhtough I have drawn for BNHA none of it is my best work as I've been currently drawing for JOJO. Is it possible to apply for the merch artist position using a non merch bnha piece as my representation of it?

Sure thing! If you have non-BNHA merch pieces, we do want to see how you do merch, but we're very happy to see full illustrative works as well. A good scope of abilities is always nice to see. Hopefully this helps!

Can one be both a page artist and a writer?

As of right now, we will only be accepting applicants for -one- position. You can definitely apply for both! If it comes down to it, you could potentially be a pinch-hitter for the one you don't get accepted for. If there is one position you'd prefer over the other (if it comes down to us having to choose where to place you) you can always leave a note of your preference in the "any other questions" area. There may be opportunity to create additional content rather than the singular required piece, so please feel free to apply to multiple positions so we have your work on-hand :) The reason for the one-position-per-person is 1) make sure you have suitable time to dedicate to your work + regular life things that come up, and 2) allow more people the opportunity to join in the fun. I hope you understand!

Is it okay when I put a title, summary and warnings to my stories? It may then be a few more words that 2,000 because of it.

That's perfectly fine :D Warnings and such are very appreciated.

Hey. So I have a favourite written piece, but it has over 3,000 words. Can I still put it into the portfolio?

If there is a way you can take just a few scenes from it to fit the 1-2k, then that would be the best route. But if it's a piece you're very proud of and passionate about, it would be best to include it. We wanna see your best work, after all :) Just try to still aim for the total between all pieces to be around 6k.

Can we send in our written work as a Word document?

You can upload the Word doc(s) into Google Drive and then provide the drive link in the portfolio! Drive will automatically open Word docs as Google Docs - the formatting just looks a little different.

Is it okay to put "x reader" works, in our portfolio ?

Please avoid "x reader", if possible! Thank you for understanding!

Can we use works with a OC ( pwn character ) ?

Including original characters is just fine! If you do have an example or two of content that includes canon characters, we WOULD like to see how you interpret them.

Can we use writing with ships like Eijiro Kirishima x Mina Ashido ?

Ships are fine for the portfolio. Please do try to include some platonic interactions so we can see how you represent that, though, if you can! Also if possible, please list ships at the top of the document :) (lil info like that won't count toward your word count)

Hi. So I have a story where x reader is just mentioned. Could I use it?

We would prefer that x reader is avoided if possible, but if you really want to use it for your portfolio, please include CWs at the top of the document for us ^^ Thank you!

What are CW's ?

CW means content warning! Similar to when movies warn about excessive violence or swearing or something, along with the rating.

for writer’s samples, may they contain spoilers from other media?

That is fine! Please put spoiler warnings at the top :D Thanks for asking!

Shall we just put our writings in the portfolio or also a description of us ?

Just the fics is fine for a portfolio. ^^

Do we need to give a few informations about our OC, when we use a fic with them?

If you want to, but it isn't necessary.

Can we put future fic ideas in our portfolio so you can see what we write in the future and if it is something interesting for the Zine ?

I'm sorry I don't quite understand - do you mean plot ideas that you have not written yet, but plan to?

[zeldaseyebrows]

Thank you @intangiblyyourswrites​ and @drsteggy​ for tagging me in this fun Handwriting Challenge by @zelink-prompts​!

This excerpt is from an upcoming fic that’s titled Sacrilege and Sororities and is going to be (another) irreverent Modern!AU that’s a multi-chapter slow-ish burn and will be told in 3rd person limited POV alternating chapters between Link and Zelda. It will follow Zelda and Link as they try to navigate the threat of the Calamity, Grad School, and the rocky start of their relationship. Yes, Link has atrocious fashion sense in this one too! Long live the terrible zip-off cargo pants.

(Also I have terrible doctor handwriting, so this took forever to make it legible! Full text under the cut for those who have trouble reading it)

To compare the “Great Fairy Motel” to the luxury hotel they had pre-booked before the royal car broke down and their trip went to hell would be to compare a little fireproof lizard to a Dodongo. Or perhaps that’s a bad comparison, Zelda thinks, since the run-down motel doesn’t even look fireproof.

The lobby smells like cigarettes and bad decisions and the candy in the bowl on the reception desk has fused together into an unholy glob. As Link approaches the desk, the receptionist glances up from his comic book and gives Link a once-over.

Does absolutely everyone have to be horny for my stupid, short knight? Zelda wonders in horror. For the love of Nayru, he’s wearing hiking boots and terrible cargo pants and the ugliest beanie I’ve seen outside a hacky sack tournament. Can’t someone not be attracted to him?

“I’m Link; I just called ahead,” the man in question and questionable fashion choices man says, handing over the plain black royal credit card to the receptionist. “One room. Two beds if available, please.”

“Lovers’ quarrel?” The receptionist asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “Or do you snore too much?”

Link chokes and turns it into a cough.

“Neither.”

“We’ve only got a King. Hope you make up soon,” the receptionist says with a wink and drops the credit and key card into Link’s hand.

Link sleeps on the couch.

[sleepless-rain]

Seijoh’s graduation trip plans

Translator: Leo | Sleepless-rain | Leoppii Editor: Troy  Esaki | Kahluaplusmilk

“Continue on unwaveringly.”

Those were the words that Iwaizumi Hajime had said to Oikawa Tohru, who had stopped to turn back and look at him. It was fall at the time.

“You’re my partner and an utterly amazing setter.”

On this day, Aobajousai High School had lost in the semifinals at the Miyagi representative game of the spring volleyball tournament. And starting from that lost match, the third years were to retire.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa weren’t only the captain and vice-captain of the volleyball club.  They had been together through junior high school and elementary school, more than half of their lives—up until now— was spent together on the courts as partners.

Iwaizumi’s words were blunt, unembellished and held no lies.

“Even if this team changes, that will not change. When the time comes I will take you down.”

Oikawa straightened himself and accepted Iwaizumi’s words of passion and friendship head-on.

“…Bring it on.”

And this story takes place a few months later.

TRANSLATORS NOTE: Please do NOT repost this translation ANYWHERE. If I see the whole thing elsewhere I will stop translating novel chapters and delete this one as well. Sharing small snippets are okay but not the whole thing. Please link back to this tumblr post if you want to share it.

  “I want to eat curry… So how about India?” said Iwaizumi, wiping the sweat off with his arm.

“You serious?”

“The bar is suddenly set way too high.”

Matsukawa Issei and Hanamaki Takahiro grimace, sweat dripping from their chins.

It was followed by, “But I like naan.”

“I totally get you.”

“When you want to eat naan, you drop by the curry restaurant.”

“I don’t get you.”

A stream of consciousness about curry overlapped with one another until Hanamaki cut in, wringing out his towel, “But you know…Hawaii would be good. How about we go snorkeling?”

“That sounds good, ‘specially in this situation. Deciding between curry and the sea, the latter sounds far better,” Matsukawa answered, ceaselessly wiping his sweat and wringing out his towel.

Iwaizumi, who had suggested India clicked his tongue, “Tch.”

It was hot in here.

Actually, rather than hot it was boiling hot. Yearning for the cool blue sea over a curry filled with spices was no surprise.

As to why they were in a highly acclaimed sauna.

                                                            *** 

In their third year of high school, winter.

With no classes to attend and it being a long time since retiring from club activities, the former volleyball club third year members of Aobajousai High School, Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa were left in a daze, and with so much free time they made their way around to various large bathhouses.

After making a big fuss over the electricity bath* with a waterfall feature* they headed into the sauna together. While sweating, the brainless discussion of “where would you go for your graduation trip? Assuming that money wasn’t an issue” blossomed: a way to occupy their free time.

“But you know I’d like to go to Las Vegas.”

“Because you want to gamble?”

“But it’s only fun if you actually have money.”

“Ah, there it is: the forbidden word,” Matsukawa pointed out in response to Iwaizumi’s frank reply, but he thoughtfully considered an alternative.

“If it isn’t a casino… there isn’t really any other place I’d want to go there. Okay then… hmmm, ah. Pandas. A tour of the panda’s homeland, China.”

“Well, if its pandas,” Hanamaki replied to Matsukawa’s panda suggestion, clapping his hands together. “Did you know there’s a whole tonne of pandas at the Wakayama Zoo? I saw it on TV recently.”

“Wakayama?”

“Oh, I bet you don’t know where Wakayama is, Iwaizumi.”

“Shut up.”

Wincing at Iwaizumi’s lack of affection, Hanamaki pulled himself together: “Anyway, even my towel has gotten hot so I think it’s about time to get out.”

“Same here, I can’t stand it anymore.” Matsukawa stood up, “What about you Iwaizumi?” he asked.

“I’m staying.”

“Okay, don’t push yourself.”

“Cold bath?”

“Cold bath.”

The two friends agreed whilst pushing open the heavy wooden door and exiting.

Left alone in the sauna, Iwaizumi crossed his arms, staring at the thermometer on the wall. There was nothing else to do.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, sweating buckets until he muttered, “Las Vegas, huh?” before taking his towel and violently wiping his face and his head. “I guess I really am a bit like a kaiju.” He said to himself, standing up and leaving the sauna drenched in sweat and in search of water.

                                                               ***

 After enjoying the baths and the sauna, the three tired boys found themselves in the large tatami room. Lined with tables and sitting cushions the room doubled as both a resting and a dining area.

An old fan swung its neck unsteadily, blowing a breeze in their direction. There seemed to be a TV somewhere in the room, as the sounds of the golf match commentary could be heard faintly. There were people watching the TV with a few beers, people lying down reading the comic books provided, and children playing the games they had brought.

Everyone in this bathhouse resting area was relaxing and doing as they pleased. And as for these three boys, they were testing the limits of their stomachs.

Of course, it didn’t start off as such a vicious scene. It was meant to be a light meal but there was a reason as to why it turned into a bloodthirsty battle.

After getting out of the baths and slipping into the jinbei* resembling pajamas, the three ordered a light meal, curry, and ramen, while resting. The place ran on a self-serve system, where you went to get your food from the counter when the number buzzer you were given went off. However, the pork cutlet curry Matsukawa had ordered still hadn’t been called out.

“You two eat first, or it will get cold and soggy,” Matsukawa, who was lying on the ground reading manga, told Iwaizumi and Hanamaki who had gone and returned with their curry and ramen.

“Then I’ll dig in.”

“Sorry.”

Without holding back the two took their spoons and chopsticks in their hands and began eating.

“I knew it, curry is the best.”

“That’s not even Indian styled curry! You’re okay with that? ”

“Yeah, because it’s curry.”

The boys continued to talk at the table, and everything was still alright. The trouble was yet to come.

Slurping his ramen Hanamaki called out to Iwaizumi beside him, “You were in there for a real long time.”

“Hm?” Iwaizumi responded with the spoon still in his mouth.

“You know, in the sauna.” He replied.

“Oh that. Isn’t that amount of time normal?”

“Are you serious?”

Their conversation ended there. Both of them focusing on the curry and ramen before them. It was just a meaningless conversation however someone reacted unexpectedly.

“Normal, huh…?”

It was Matsukawa, lying on the tatami.

Matsukawa couldn’t let their conversation – Iwaizumi’s “normal” - slip from his ears.

 “‘Normal’ he said. Doesn’t that mean that the two of us that left earlier are weaker than normal?”

 At that moment his buzzer went off beeping.

Matsukawa got up, “Oh, it’s finally done.”

Hanamaki eyed him whilst sipping the ramen broth from his spoon and asked: “Yours is the only one that took so long, what did you order?”

“Me? Pork cutlet curry.”

“Oh, one of those things that take time to fry… wait, that’s not something you eat after getting out of the sauna!? Your stomach must be strong.”

Upon hearing that Matsukawa glanced at Iwaizumi who was drinking water. And as if he were waiting for it, a smug smile crossed his face, “You think so? Having pork cutlet curry is pretty normal.” He taunted, picking up the beeping number buzzer to get his pork cutlet curry, ambling towards the counter. Someone glared at the figure strangely overflowing with confidence.

“‘Normal’… you say?” It was Iwaizumi, spoon in hand. “Normal? Then me eating plain curry means I’m weaker than that?”

The golf commentary from the TV, the manga, the faint breeze blowing intermittently, the curry and ramen, all of it relaxing and warm. This heaven-like peace enveloping the resting and dining area unfolded into a sudden battlefield.  

Iwaizumi stuffed the remainder of his curry into his mouth vigorously before slowly standing up. “I’m going to get extra gyoza,” he said.

Taken aback by the sudden dangerous aura emanating from Iwaizumi, Hanamaki winced “S-sure…”. His hands stopped over his ramen, the atmosphere created by former ace Iwaizumi could have easily been mistaken for the middle of a match.

And soon after Matsukawa returned with his tray of curry.

“Huh, where’s Iwaizumi?”

“Mm? Oh- uh seems like he went to get some gyoza.”

“…I see.”

Seating himself leisurely onto a sitting cushion, Matsukawa took his spoon in his hand and sighed, “Facing off pork cutlet curry with gyoza, pathetic.”

“What? What are you talking about? Both of you have been acting really weird since a while ago! Is this some kind of inside-joke?”

Hanamaki put down his chopsticks without thinking and upon noticing change in Matsukawa’s attitude Iwaizumi had returned with a “hey.” The clear plastic container in his hand contained eight gyoza. On top of that, another box stuffed with 200grams of chicken karaage. Seeing the extra meat, Hanamaki just feigned a smile.

“Hey, I know you went to all the trouble of buying that but I’m full from the ramen, I can’t eat that.”

Iwaizumi didn’t even spare Hanamaki a glance, staring down unblinkingly at Matsukawa who was eating his cutlet leisurely in declaration of war, “All of it is mine.”

Matsukawa stared back, putting down his fork and rising to his feet to accept Iwaizumi’s challenge, “Bring it on.”

“What is it with you guys!? Matsukawa, why are you standing? Sit down!”

The downside of war is that there are always innocents who get dragged in. And without listening to the confused Hanamaki, the pointless battle began.

Thirty minutes had passed. After eating his pork cutlet curry, yakisoba, grilled onigiri, Matsukawa now sat with what he claimed ‘dessert’, slurping down tapioca filled milk tea.

An exhausted Hanamaki asked: “Isn’t tapioca made from some sort of potato, doesn’t that make this more of a food than a drink? Why are you eating little balls of potato after a meal?”

“Because they were selling it.”

“Even if you want to look cool drinking that, you don’t.”

“I’m not trying to look cool.”

“You are! I heard you when you said ‘pathetic’ and all that other stuff. ”

While Hanamaki and Matsukawa were going back and forth, Iwaizumi returned with another plate piled high with freshly made fries.

“Potatoes! More potatoes! Why are you both eating piles of potatoes!? It’s practically another meal! What’s with you two?! My stomach hurts just watching you. I’m begging you both, please stop!”

The bystander Hanamaki had given up and Matsukawa, who was probing for pearls with the end of his straw, and Iwaizumi, who was throwing a handful of fries into his mouth, stopped. They looked at each other and nodded.

“Let stop it here then since you’re insisting.”

“Right.”

“You’re pretty strong.”

“Same to you.”

Hanamaki glanced at the two shaking hands over the good showdown they had had, clutching his stomach and rolling on the tatami groaning, “The damage runs deep…”

Having mercy on Hanamaki, who suddenly gave in, and having come to terms with the power they both held, both of them turned back to the table. Instead of eating at top speed they ate at the pace they pleased, sipping tapioca and munching on fries. This peaceful scene is what you would have called a warriors break.

“I think I ate a bit too much.”

“It’s because we haven’t been exercising recently.”

“I guess so.”

“How about we show our faces at club practice tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

After eating and drinking until they were full, they leant against the wall, satisfied. It was a warm, comforting moment. Taking a hot bath, unwinding in the sauna, eating a good meal, the fan gently carrying a breeze towards them— It was a moment of bliss.

Eyes closed and exhaustion finally settling in, everything was disrupted by music playing loudly through the speakers in the resting area.

“Huh? Seems like something’s starting…” an almost asleep Hanamaki woke up, startled.

“Look at that…!” Eyes wide, he pointed out at the open area outside.

Iwaizumi and Matsukawa stood up to look over.

A low stage had been unknowingly set up, a group of elderly people who had just gotten out of the baths and enjoying a beer gathered around it, microphones held gleefully in their hands. The sound of unknown old men singing enka songs roared through the resting area.

“I didn’t think they’d have karaoke here.”

“I can’t sleep like this.”

“This blows.”

For these three high school boys with little life experience, and it was a little too early to be battling it out in enka songs. Slipping past the old men excited by songs of mountains and waterfalls, death and killing, the three boys shuffled out of the resting and dining area, leaving it all behind.

                                                              ***

Escaping the enka hell the three boys, wearing the indoor slippers, stumbled upon an arcade.

“Oh, they have the alligator game.*”

“Ready for the hunt.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit cruel to hit their heads?”

“That crane game has a PS4 in it.”

“There’s no way you could win it.”

Familiar sounds and music filled the room. The three wandered aimlessly around the to all the old crane machines until Iwaizumi suddenly called out, “Oh! Let’s play this! Have a showdown!”

In front of the eager Iwaizumi was a punching bag machine. But Matsukawa wrinkled his brow at the effort of it all, “No way, I hate these power type games. You’re going to thrash us anyway Iwaizumi.”

“There’s no winning or losing in punching. It’s to test yourself.”

“You said showdown before.”

It seemed like they were about to break down into another fight but Hanamaki, blue-faced, cut in, “Sorry… but I… the moment I use any force I think I’ll have ramen spewing out of my mouth.”

“Don’t wanna see that.”

“If that’s the case, how about we head home? Since we’re tired.”

It was when the three went to check the time that they saw it.

“Oh.”

Hanamaki pointed to the back of the arcade.

“Damn, air hockey!”

“Huh?”

“Oh, it really is! Air hockey! Air hockey!”

At the back of the arcade was an air hockey machine, old and clunky like the rest of the machines.

“Oh crap! How long has it been since we played air hockey?”

“I haven’t played since junior high!”

“Hurry up, let’s play! How much is it?”

“I won’t lose!”

“Who versus who for the first game?”

Wanting to spew ramen from his mouth, whether someone was going to win or lose, all of that was forgotten as the three hurriedly rushed to stuff one hundred yen into the machine. And thus the first round of the air hockey tournament began.

                                                               ***

 “The bathhouse was unexpectedly interesting.”

“We’ve discovered a great place.”

“Right?”

They had eaten to their heart’s content, played around like children before heading into the baths once again to wash off the sweat. With satisfied faces, they headed home on the free shuttle.

“I didn’t even think it would be this interesting.”

“We spent all our money on the air hockey machine though.”

“We exchanged for so many coins.”

After reminiscing the day using only the words “sick”, “seriously”, and “fun” they eventually quieted down. Whether it was the swaying of the bus, the fatigue from the baths, their full stomachs, or the soft orange light of the setting sun filling the bus that had the three nodding off, no one was sure.

 Staring blankly out the window Iwaizumi mumbled, “... If only he had come.”

Upon hearing those words Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s eyes flew open, despite almost falling asleep.

“Huh, by ‘him’ you mean… Him?”

“If you say ‘him’ there’s no one but him.”

“Him… yeah him…”

The three of them exchanged glances nodding in agreement “Him”, “yeah him.” And bursting out into laugher but it only took a moment before they stopped.

“No, it’s better that he wasn’t here.”

“I guess.”

“It would be pretty wild if he were.”

���But he definitely would have stolen the microphone out of the old lady’s hands.”

“Gotta do a duet I guess.”

“And then he’d get a tonne of candy and mikan.”

“Definitely.”

Right in the middle of their heated talk about ‘him’, the phone in Iwaizumi’s pocket rang out.

“Hm?”

Iwaizumi glanced at the notification, letting out an “ugh” and leaning back, the other two asked what it was and Iwaizumi showed them his phone.

“It’s from him.”

It was a message from him – Oikawa Tohru.

“Really?”

“Hell, he might be hiding in here watching us.”

“Surveying us huh.”

Of course, it would have been unlikely, but perhaps it wasn’t with the person called Oikawa. You could say that he was mysterious, or rather incomprehensible, whichever it was he was inexplicably terrifying.

After looking around the windows and the bus to confirm that Oikawa wasn’t there, Hanamaki let out a sigh, “So what did he say?”

“He just asked ‘Whatcha doing?’ Doesn’t he have anything else to do?”

“Tell him we’re in Las Vegas, send ‘In Las Vegas now’.”

“Idiot.”

“That’s stupid.”

While they bantered they took a photo, bathed in the setting sun, and sent it a message along the lines of “Coming back from Las Vegas with Matsukawa and Hanamaki”. And a reply came back immediately, obviously addressed to all three of them.

“Here we go, ‘ Is this Las Vegas at Naruko Hot springs*?’. Why Naruko hot springs? Is it the kokeshi? ” Hanamaki laughed before his expression changed, “Wait how did he know we went to the baths? Is there a place called Las Vegas in Naruko?”

Both Matsukawa and Iwaizumi replied immediately with serious faces, “Of course not.”

“Oh but hot springs sound good too,” Matsukawa added, stretching in his seat.

“Hot springs, huh…That means table tennis and not air hockey.” As Iwaizumi smirked his phone rang again.

“No fair! I want to go!” came another message from Oikawa.

This time Hanamaki replied, “Air hockey warrior Iwaizumi was seriously something.” and a reply from Oikawa came immediately.

“He said, ‘I’d beat him no sweat’. What are you gonna do Iwaizumi?”

“As if I’d lose.” Iwaizumi replied casually, but his fighting spirit burned deep in his eyes.

“This is going to be serious.”

“Yeah.”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa looked at one another.

Would there really be another round of the air hockey tournament? Who knows?

 The three of them thought about the days ahead of them on the swaying bus.

For the three years of high school, if not the years of elementary school and middle school, the boys that had spent more time bonding with their volleyball teammates than their parents or siblings, were now about to walk different paths. Away from their schools, their hometown.

 “God, I’m getting bus sick,” Matsukawa said blue-faced and Hanamaki laughed.

“You’re so weak… wait I don’t feel so good either.”

“Don’t look down, look outside!” Iwaizumi pointed, putting his phone away in his pocket.

“What are you going to do about Oikawa?” Hanamaki asked, “You still haven’t replied to his ‘I’d beat him no sweat’ comment.”

“Just leave it.”

The other two laughed at the blunt reply.

“Amazing, he’s not even here and he managed to barge in.”

“His presence is too strong.”

“That’s why it’s a good thing he isn’t here with us.”

As they laughed amongst themselves the bus approached the station. They knew it well, this twilight town they always walked through together. The bus winded through, this small journey was almost coming to an end. As each small journey ends, the days slowly pass by. The match ends, retiring from club activities, graduating from high school.

The time to part ways will definitely come, but this won’t be a problem for them. The time spent together, the sweat and tears they shed, all of it is part of their bodies and souls. Along with the things that they built up together, their strength, technique, confidence, and trust, all these things make up their bodies. And each of them will walk a new path to a place they haven’t trekked.

As all roads are connected, although separated, for now, they will surely meet again. And so for the when they meet again so that they can hold their heads high and laugh, they will continue to take on each challenge.

 How about you?

Are you moving forward?

 A motivation that can only be gained from friends pushes them onwards through fatigue. If friends are what keeps one going when they’re apart, then not having them by their sides will be all right.

 “Continue on unwaveringly.”

That’s all they needed.

                                                               ***

  While the three began to head their separate ways home after hopping off the bus, Oikawa was hunched in the corner of the clubroom staring at his phone, “Why did they leave me on read? Damn it!!”

   TRANSLATION NOTES:

Electricity baths: Pretty much a bath that has panels running down the sides that shoot electrical pulses into the water. I’ve been in one and it’s kind of tingly at first but it feels kind of like a massage if you get used to it. It’s not all that common in Japan so even then it’s a sort of novelty to Japanese people.

Waterfall feature: I didn’t know how to translate this but it’s basically a pipe at a height where the hot water comes out. You can sit under it to hit your back and it’s basically like a waterfall/massage.

 Jinbei: Traditional Japanese top and bottoms. The kind you see babies wear to summer festivals (I guess like a two-piece, yukata top and pants). Made out of a thin material and made particularly for hot weather.

 Alligator game: in English, this game is Alligator hunt, but in Japanese, it’s called (ワニワニパニック) waniwani panicky, alligator panic, Matsukawa follows with a “What a panic” to finish Hanamaki’s sentence but I changed it a bit so English readers could get the reference.

Naruko hot springs: One of the most popular hot springs in Miyagi is also known for their wooden dolls, kokeshi. If you ever go to Miyagi, Naruko is beautiful in fall!!

As a small disclaimer:  I have taken some liberties in translation to make the  novel read smoothly. So please don’t quote specific words as canon. that being said I tried my best to stay faithful to the original.  For this reason I will not allow translations into another language using this as the base text. I apologise to anyone who is keen on sharing it in another language but please do so using the original Japanese text.

Anyway, if you enjoyed this chapter please consider supporting Haikyuu and buying a copy of this novel (volume 11) ! I may consider doing more novel translations in the future!

I do have a Ko-fi so if you do feel like it, please donate!

[nblesbianbenhanscom]

you can read it on ao3 too. link is in the notes.

***

When Billy wakes up in the hospital, all he can hear is the sound of some dumbass machine beeping. He wants to make it stop, but when he goes to pull the blanket away, he’s stopped by the tubes and bandages.

He looks down at himself, frowning. He tries to think back, but all he remembers is getting in his car-- Steve Harrington slamming into his Camaro with an unknown car-- to go to Karen’s.

Had there been an accident? Had Harrington been involved somehow? He’s not sure and his head is beginning to throb so he decides to go back to sleep.

When he wakes up again, Max is sitting next to him in a guest chair, tears streaming down her cheeks as she holds his hand. They are alone. He wants to ask her what’s wrong, but then she begins to talk.

“Billy, you fucking asshole, you better stop this shit. Just wake up, please.”

Billy clears his throat and Max jumps as she looks up his face. Her eyes are wide, her hair a mess.

“Billy?” She whispers.

His mouth and throat are dry as he says, “Who were you expecting? Santa Claus?” It barely comes out as a whisper.

Letting out a strangled half sob, Max gets up and hesitates. He watches her blink several times.

“Billy, oh my god, you’re okay!” She leans forward and gives him an awkward hug. He pats her back, totally confused.

“Yeah, shitbird, why wouldn’t I be?” He asks.

Slowly she pulls back and looks at him. “You don’t remember?”

He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out. He remembers a room, hot and humid, the sauna? At the pool? He’s locked in. Max is at the window.

I’ve done things, Max. Really… bad things. I didn’t mean to. He made me do it.

Billy shakes his head, no.

He made me do it?  Billy thinks to himself. He who? Neil? No, not Neil. A shadow?

“I’m gonna go get a doctor,” Max says. She gets up and leaves quickly.

He’s not alone for long before a team of nurses and doctors come in and begin poking, prodding, and asking him questions.

At one point he looks over at the door and sees Max looking at him from the hall. There’s a girl next to her. A girl that shouldn’t be there. Billy’s not sure why, but she really shouldn’t.

Had he dreamt her? Had she died?

He can’t remember, and then someone asks him a question that he doesn’t know the answer to. He closes his eyes to try to answer but when he opens them again, both girls are gone.

Over the next few days, Billy drifts in and out of consciousness. Sometimes he wakes up alone, but more often Max is there. The impossible girl is there with her the most, but sometimes it’s Harrington or one of the kids. Sometimes he opens his eyes and it’s like his room has been invaded by quiet and subdued teeanagers. Sometimes he talks to whoever is in his room, but often he says nothing.

The weirdest times are when he wakes up alone with Steve, although this is probably in part because Steve is almost always asleep. Billy can’t understand why Steve of all people would want to be here alone with Billy.

***

It takes Billy several days to piece together what happened in the span of just a few days, all the death and destruction. Billy remembers bits and pieces, and he is flooded with guilt every time he sees the impossible girl, El. She was Chief Hopper’s daughter, but that didn’t make sense either. More people would know that Hopper had a daughter, right?

The one thing no one wants to answer is what happened to his car. Sometimes he thinks he remembers a crash, but he isn’t sure why.

One day he wakes up to find Steve staring at him from the guest chair. He’s sitting with his fist under his chin and Billy’s sure he’s not really seeing Billy.

Steve jumps when Billy clears his throat.

“Hey,” Steve says.

“Hey.” Billy keeps studying him. “Are you ok?”

Steve shakes his head a little. “I have some bad news.”

Scowling, Billy shakes his head. He cannot even begin to guess what Steve is going to tell him, how things could possibly get worse.

“Your dad sold your car to the junkyard this morning,” Steve says.

Throat tightening, Billy shakes his head a little. “Why?”

Steve chews on his lip. “Because I rammed the mayor’s car into it and totaled it that night.”

“The mayor’s car?” Bill asks.

He’s sitting behind the wheel of the Camaro, looking right at the kids, at his sister. His body is flooded with hate and anger and fear.

There is a loud crash as another car hits his, and he’s knocked around.

“Yeah, we kind of stole it,” Steve says.

Rubbing his cheek a little, Billy lets the news wash over him and then something clicks. He begins to shake so he pulls his blanket closer.

“I’m really sorry, Billy,” Steve says. “We tried to stop him, I tried to buy it off of him, but he wouldn’t listen.”

Billy shifts as he tries to figure out what to say as he bites back bitter tears. Everything hurts in a whole new way. He wants to go to sleep; he wants to go back in time to that night he’d left to meet Karen; he wants to go home to California.

He wants his mom.

“Billy?”

“Shut up,” Billy snaps. “Just shut up and leave me alone.” He doesn’t want Steve to see him like this. He covers his face with his arm as he lets out a small sob. He feels stupid. He’s alive and healing, he shouldn’t be fucking crying about something as stupid as this.

“I cleaned out your car before your dad sold it,” Steve murmurs. He sets a plastic grocery sack on the bed.

Billy lowers his arm and he chokes back a sob as he sits up and opens the bag. There’s some lighters, a bunch of cassettes, and an old battered shoe box. He wants to ask if Steve went through the box, but he’s so flooded with relief all he can do is pull the box close. With shaking fingers, he opens it and swallows hard.

The box is full of things from his mom that he wanted to keep hidden from Neil. Letters, notes, birthday cards, and several pictures. There are a few cassette tapes that shed’ forgotten when she left. When he was younger, he’d listened to them on low volume in the front room, and then later he’d made mixed tapes from them so he could hide the originals. He knew if his dad found any of these things, they’d get destroyed and then he’d probably beat the shit out of Billy. Billy had carried the box in his backpack as a kid until he finally got his car and he’d shoved the box away so Neil wouldn’t find it.

The most important thing though, was a small stuffed dog that had lost most of its stuffing over the years. He takes it out and holds it so, so gently with one hand and begins to stroke its ear.

Pulling it close, he covers his face again and begins to sob, his whole body shaking.

“Thank you,” Billy mumbles when he’s finally calmed down enough to talk. “Thank you.”

“It was nothing,” Steve says.

Billy drops his arm and looks up at the other man.

“No, Steve. It isn’t nothing. It’s everything.” Still clutching the dog, Billy reaches out and grabs Steve’s sleeve tugging him down. He knows he’s not gripping hard, but Steve comes easily. Billy wraps an arm awkwardly around Steve’s shoulders. It’s hard. The tubes get in the way, tugging a little painfully, and his whole body protests at the movement, at the touch, but he doesn't care. Steve is unsure at first, but eventually he wraps his arms gently around Billy.

“Thank you,” Billy whispers into Steve’s neck.

When they pull apart, Billy clears his throat and glances in the box again. With a heavy sigh, he closes it but keeps the dog under his arm. The dog had helped him through some of the worst nights of his childhood, and it has a comforting familiarity. He’s not even worried that Neil will see it because Neil hasn’t once visited him in the hospital.

Sighing, Billy lays back on his pillows. He watches Steve sit back down. He curls in on himself a little and turns to stare out the window. Billy falls asleep staring at him.

When he wakes up again, he’s still clutching the dog. Steve is gone and in his place Billy finds El and Max curled up in the chair reading comic books together.

***

The following weeks are hard. The dog never leaves Billy’s side and no one says shit. Steve comes alone every couple of days, and is often the one to bring Max.

No one brings up Neil, and Billy is too scared to think about what might be waiting for him there. He tries to not think about  home  , but when his dreams aren’t about him being flayed, they are him cold and alone on the street. Logically he knows this probably won't happen. There have been enough lawyers sniffing around, talking about getting him a settlement, but Billy doesn’t really want to be alone just yet, which is really frightening for him. He’s not used to needing anyone for anything, but considering he has a hard time walking on his own many days, he feels justified in not wanting to live alone.

One morning, close to when he’s supposed to get released, Billy wakes up in a cold sweat clutching his small dog. His throat hurts and he thinks he’s been screaming again. He stares up at the ceiling as he tries to catch his breath.

“That happen often?” Steve asks from the doorway.

“Wuh?” Billy jumps and looks at the door. “Jesus, Harrington, we need to put a bell on you or something.” He laughs, but it’s hollow.

“Sorry.” Steve folds himself in the chair. He leans on the arm and looks up at him. “So does it?”

“Does what?”

“The screaming nightmares. I could hear you from the goddamn elevator. Surprised nurses didn’t come running in.”

Shrugging, Billy asks, “What’s it to you, pretty boy?”

Steve smiles a little and shrugs. “Figure I have a right to know what my roommate gets up to in the middle of the night.”

Frowning, Billy asks, “Roommate?”

“Yeah… I mean if you want. I talked to Max and Susan and they think you would probably rather not live with Neil any more.” Steve sighs a little. “Robin’s been itching to move out, and like, this is the perfect excuse, honestly.” Steve chews on his lip and Billy just kind of stares at him numbly.

“No bullshit?” Billy asks finally.

“No bullshit.”

Pressing his lips together, Billy shakes his head, no, and sinks lower into the bed. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Steve says softly, genuinely confused, although that’s not hard for Steve.

“Because I don’t have any money, fuck face!” Billy snaps. Steve blinks once and busts up laughing. “Are you serious right now?” Billy growls.

Laughing so hard he’s actually crying, Steve wipes his cheek. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I forgot the lawyers haven’t been up yet, but Joyce and Hopper helped get a huge settlement for you. All your medical bills are going to be taken care of, of course, but you’ll also be getting a monthly allowance for the rest of your life. Dude, you never have to work if you don’t want to.”

It’s Billy’s turn laugh, but laughing hurts and his tears are more from pain but he ignores them.

“No shit?” Billy asks.

“No shit.”

Billy opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. He never has to go back to his dad’s house again. He can hardly believe it. He pulls the dog closer and takes a deep breath.

“Yeah, ok,” Billy says eventually.

Steve smiles at him. “It’s gonna be great, you’ll see.”

“Mhmm,” Billy says and begins to idly fiddle with his hospital bracelet while Steve starts telling him about the apartment. It’s not great, but it’s pretty nice, and big, and Steve just goes on and on about plans for cooking and parties and just everything sounds so nice.

And for the first time in a really long time, Billy can feel himself to start getting excited for the future.

[mk-wizard]

Optimus Primal: Analysis of a bot who achieved “Nirvana”

Hello. It’s been a while since I’ve done a Transformers article, so to make up for lost time, I am going to do one on a character who was not only famous for their various bodily transformations, but also their spiritual transformation. I am talking about Optimus Primal.

So to get started, what exactly is Optimus Primal besides a Maximal who shares a name and helmet style with Optimus Prime? If you’re thinking that he is the Maximal equivalent of Optimus Prime, you would be dead wrong. Despite his name and looks, Primal is a great hero by his own merit who achieved greatness through grit, hard work, self sacrifice and inner growth on his own and without standing even for a moment on the shoulders of any giant. If anything, he is the reason Optimus Prime lived to make his own legacy. To understand and appreciate all of this, one must delve deep into the life story of Optimus Primal.

In the beginning, Primal was an average ranking leader of an exploration ship called the Axalon and his mission was to observe and collect data on other planets and their life forms. He was intelligent, honourable and not above having a sense of humour. However, he can turn and be very stern. The fact that he was young and inexperienced also showed in how he would have slip ups like making bad decisions, making one too many speeches and even losing his temper. All the same, he was the type who would learn quickly from his mistakes and constantly grow. He is also a skilled fighter with guns, swords and he is shown to be a martial arts master of some kind. He also seems to be part of the air force hence having the ability to fly in robot mode.

One fateful day, he was tasked with following and apprehending Predacon Megatron who stole the golden disks. The pursuit led them to getting stranded on prehistoric Earth though at the time, neither faction was aware that this was Earth yet because it was so different from the Earth they were informed of in the history books. At first, Primal chose a gorilla as his alt mode which proved to be one of the most useful beast alt modes in the series. As the Beast Wars (though here in Canada, the series was called “Beasties” for some reason) progressed and after several encounters with some mysterious aliens who intended to destroy prehistoric Earth, Optimus Primal unintentionally sacrificed himself to save the planet, Maximals and most of the Predacons. In the aftermath, the planet was changed and everyone could now see that they were on prehistoric Earth and with time, Primal was restored to life by having his spark transferred to an transmetal body. He could still transform into a gorilla though now he could fly even in his beast mode as he now had a hoverboard similar to the Silver Surfer’s.

During the second half of the war, the series became progressively darker and Megatron’s deeds became more sinister if not homicidal as he was now not above killing his own and even going as far as attempting to kill a comatose Optimus Prime in the Ark after he discovered it. Primal also clearly lost a lot of his innocence as he became less optimistic, more tense and while his honour remained intact, his hesitance to fight with full force with gone. In order to save Optimus Prime, he temporarily held his spark into his own body though holding the spark of a Prime had side effects on his own spark and body. Primal underwent a powerful change of which he became a giant quadruple changer, his firepower was at its peak and it can be theorized that a part of Optimus Prime’s divine connection to Vector Sigma was transferred to him.

In this new powerful form and now gaining clarity on the severity of the situation, Primal was more motivated than ever to defeat Megatron and return to Cybertron so history could no longer be tampered with. And while he did succeed at defeating Megatron who also underwent his own upgrade after exposing his own spark to the spark of the Decepticon Megatron, this victory was not without a price. When the Maximals returned to Cybertron, Predacon Megatron managed to take over the planet forming a new faction of mindless drones known as Vehicons which he controlled through a cybernetic psychic link, and in the process, wiped out the memories of the Maximal team and reduced them back to their beast forms’ lowest level.

Luckily, Primal managed to gather his team and find Vector Sigma and the entity/program known as the Oracle which purified them and gave them new upgraded techorganic forms which they all retained for the entire run of the Beast Machines series. At this point, Primal was no longer a naive mech of science and had become very hardened as well as fanatical without how he believed the Oracle was guiding him towards wiping out all technological life on Cybertron which also put him at odds with Cheetour who used to look up to him. After the devastating loss of Rhinox who was reprogrammed into the evil Tankor, Primal fell into a depression which affected him on both a physical and spiritual level, but he was brought to his senses after speaking to the spirit of a now purified Rhinox and with the support of his team. He now also realised the Oracle wasn’t guiding him towards eliminating technology. It was guiding him towards finding a balance between technological and organic life. With this new mindset, Primal stayed on this spiritual path though he now handled it with a cool head and a more enlightened tone until the final face off with Megatron. In the final face off, Primal sacrificed himself by plunging himself and Megatron into Cybertron’s core allowing the entire planet itself to transform for the better into a technorganic state and also reawaken the entire population. While the heroic deed did cost Primal his life, his spark was at peace as it joined the Allspark and it is hinted that he became something even more in this state.

Since his time in the Beast Wars and Beast Machines CGI cartoons, Primal has made some appearances in the comics, several Japanese mangas and animes, and may make a debut in the final season of War for Cybertron.

Out of all of the character in the Transformers lore, I find Primal is the one who had the most growing up to do and he not only did grow up, he stepped out of a large shadow he didn’t even know he was in and became something amazing. He is also one of the few heroes who I initially didn’t like. And even now, I didn’t like the naive, long winded immature person Primal was initially as he did feel like someone who was copying Optimus Prime, but as he grew up and dropped the naivety, my feelings towards him changed (pardon the pun). By the time Beast Machines rolled around, I outright loved him and I loved his newfound spiritual Buddha like approach. He found his own identity and it was inspiring. It was also this version of Primal that convinced me to look at the Transformers as being more than just machines. Showing that they had a religion, a culture and more made me see the Transformers in a new light that stayed with me for life.

I admit he is not like Optimus Prime, but in his defense, you simply cannot compare the two to each other because they are so different and their journeys were different. Prime’s war was more political and social, and he was much older and wiser. Primal was really just a young scientist who was asked to do a job though circumstances dragged him into a battle. With time, that battle became a rebellion. And also, Prime and Primal’s personalities are just vastly different. The very point of each of them is that they are not like each other and that is something to be celebrated not scorned. Optimus Prime was the leader for the team, era and war of his time and Optimus Primal was the leader for the time, era and war of his.

My overall analysis is that I can see why people are not initially endeared by Primal as I myself was one of these fans who wasn’t, but as his life experiences mature him, you fall deeply in love with the person he becomes and I think that was the point of him. I think that the writers purposely made him to rub you the wrong way because he was so immature and I think that makes him a cleverly written character. And also relatable. I’m sure by many people’s standards, we weren’t as likeable when we were immature and had a tendency to talk too much and not listen enough. Perhaps Primal could be seen as a Transformers character who embodies a metaphor for how growing up and gaining wisdom can change a person.

With all that said, Beast Wars and Beast Machine is worth watching thanks to Primal if not for the story, to at least see the journey of Optimus Primal, but that is all my opinion. What is yours?

If you have a Transformers theory or character analysis you want explored, please let me know in my ask box. And please, support me through Patreon or Ko-fi if you want me to make Transformers merch and videos. Or if you want a commission of your favourite bot, let me know in my shop. All links are on my profile page.

Thanks for reading and as always, stay safe.

[verai-marcel]

This Is Perfection (RDR2 Fanfic, Javier x F!Reader, Biker AU, 18+)

This is part of the series Ride Through My Heart. Read the other parts here.

Summary: You are an intern at a photography studio, and lately you've been crushing on the male model that works with your boss. Javier is sex on legs and your eyes are drawn to him every time he's near. On top of his looks, he's also kind and funny, which made you doubly fall for him. Little did you know, he's had his eye on you too, for he knows your secret identity: a semi-popular cosplayer on the convention circuit. 

Author’s Notes: Trying another Javier x F!Reader fic because he deserves love too. The title of this fic is yet another obscure lyric from a popular song, so try and guess! Also I’m not in the photography or modelling industry, so most of that stuff is just conjecture and internet research.

Tags: fluff, romance, gentle to passionate to rough sex, mild dirty talk, neck grabbing (but no choking), some use of a different language

AO3 Link is here, sweetheart.

Word Count: 4457

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

“See you next week, Javier.”

“Later Charles,” Javier threw over his shoulder as he left Charles’ cat café. He finished his latte, jaywalking across the two lane road to get to his bike. Bright red, his Ducati Streetfighter was his prized possession, his baby, his joy. When he wasn’t working, he loved to take his motorcycle to the nearby lake and ride around the backroads, enjoying the scenery.

But lately, he had no excuse to go out. He felt he had overbooked himself this month, running from one photo shoot to another. He had to sleep, had to eat properly and work out so that he looked his best, and that cut out practically all of his free time. Feeling the stress steadily creep up his spine and into his brain, his only breaks were his weekly meetings with his friends, which he could count as business since he was their marketing manager. Self-appointed, of course.

He only left Sunday for himself, which he had been using for personal and wardrobe maintenance. Javier was nothing if not meticulous about his look. He had to be, when it was the product he was selling. But lately, even his Sundays were being booked with side jobs. 

He chucked the empty latte cup into the trash and got onto his bike. It was Sunday morning and he had once again broken his rule and picked up an extra gig at the beach by the lake. He almost hadn't taken the job, except that there was a lady working today that he absolutely wanted to see. 

***

You were sitting inside a minivan with the sliding door open, cords coming out of your laptop and hooked up to a power strip, connected to an orange extension cord that was coming out of the visitor’s center. Your boss was testing shots by the new mural that had been painted on the retaining wall next to the beach. You had helped her set up most of the lighting gear already, so at this point, the two of you were just waiting for the model to arrive. While you had wanted to spend the weekend touching up your costumes for the convention next week, you also needed the extra money. It had nothing to do with that fact that the model for today was none other than the delightful (and very sexy) Javier Escuella.

Ever since you had started working with this modeling & photography company, you had done a lot of random work that wasn’t really related to your college degree. However, you learned a lot about the profession and discovered that the thing you really loved more than photography itself was the photo-editing.

While you were editing some of your personal photos, you heard the sound of a motorcycle pulling up. Looking over at the source of the sound, you watched as Javier pulled his helmet off his head and shook his hair out. As he took off his bandana and biker jacket, you made a mental note to remember this moment forever, his biceps revealed, his sleeveless shirt wrapped around his torso like a lover.

Then he looked at you and grinned. He had caught you staring. Again.

How many times in the past three months since he started to work with your company had he caught you staring? And how many times had he just grinned at you, knowing he had caught you? 

Too many. Didn't he think you were a creep? And yet he still smiled. 

“Hey you,” Javier said smoothly as he walked over to you, the slight sway to his hips taunting you. He was a natural-born model, his movement graceful as a cat and his charisma amplified by his seductive smile. Taking a seat next to you, the space between you two barely a hair’s breadth apart, he leaned over to look at your screen. “What are you working on?”

You quickly tried to shut the laptop, but just as quickly he stayed your hand. His hand was bigger than yours, encompassing and warm. His fingers, wrapped around yours, gently moved the laptop screen back up, and you couldn’t stop him, so enraptured by his touch.

Apprehensively you watched him as he looked at your latest shots of you in your almost completed costume. You swallowed. Maybe he wouldn’t recognize you? After all, you had your glasses on, a big beanie over your hair, and an oversized sweater. Your photo had so much more makeup on and a wig, perhaps he wouldn’t—

“Oh, I know this Insta account.”

You paled.

“I’m a big fan.”

"I'm editing for a friend–" 

"Don't lie," he said softly. "I can tell it's you. I've known since I started working with you."

You squeaked. 

He turned his blazingly glorious smile onto you, and you felt like the sun was shining straight into your eyes. While you were reeling from his admission, he continued to talk to you.  

"You're going to that big convention next weekend, right?" 

You nodded. 

"Can I come?"

Shrugging as you tried to play it cool despite the slight tremor in your voice, you replied, "I'm not sure if tickets are still available, but I wouldn't stop you."

He leaned in a little closer. "What if I told you I already had a ticket?"

You gulped. "Re-really?" 

Nodding, he stood up, giving you room to breathe. "I may not look like it, but I enjoy comics too."

Noticing that your boss was starting to head over, you quickly said, "please don't tell my boss about this. I don't want her to think I'm slacking or anything."

Javier smiled and winked at you. "Of course. Your secret is safe with me." He leaned down to look at you in the eyes, and you were mesmerized for a moment from the intensity. "Just promise me I get a photo shoot with you at the con."

You nodded, your head moving so fast that your glasses dipped down your nose. 

He laughed as he casually reached down and moved your glasses back up, his fingers brushing against your temples.

"Then it's a date," he said as he walked away to greet your boss. 

Grabbing your laptop and pulling it off the charger, you followed as they went to the shooting location, your heart pounding a million miles a second. 

***

After the photo shoot, Javier traded his phone number with the lovely lady who had been the subject of his heated dreams as of late. He hadn't wanted to scare her; she always seemed so jumpy when he approached. But he always noticed the way she stared at him before he caught her eyes. The look she gave him was pure woman, and he craved more. 

It wasn't just the looks that brought her to his attention. He started following her Instagram account a year ago when he was looking at last year's masquerade winners. Her smile, her energy, and her creativity drew him in. He had found himself liking all of her posts in a day, scrolling endlessly through her archive. 

So when she had shown up at one of his photo shoots three months ago, he had been delighted. But she seemed shy and even denied that she had an Instagram account when he had asked her. He was even more surprised to find that she wasn't a model, but the photographer's intern. 

At that time, he had let it go. She was clearly hiding it, clearly didn't want to draw attention to herself. But every time he got to work with her, he felt frustrated that she hid herself so carefully behind her wide rimmed glasses and oversized hoodies. Her cosplay photos were amazing, her smile brilliant, her makeup impeccable, her costumes were bold and full of color combinations that seduced his vision. 

At the same time, having her hidden away made him feel a bit better about her safety. What kind of wolves would go after her if they knew how gorgeous she was under her baggy clothes? 

As he slowly got to know her, his affection for her had only grown. With each job, he talked with her more and more, and she had opened up to him. While they hadn't traded phone numbers until now, he could say with a certain level of confidence that they were on good terms. Almost friends, really. 

He couldn't wait for next week. He had gotten his Comic-Con ticket months ago and had been preparing on his own. Javier grinned under his helmet. 

She was going to be so surprised to see him. 

***

"Thanks for working today. I'll see you tomorrow."

"No problem, see ya later!" 

Your boss waved as she went to her car and drove off. The two of you had dropped the company van back at the office, so now you had the rest of the day to yourself. 

Getting into your car, you started it up, put your favorite music on… 

And you promptly screamed in both excitement and anxiousness. You had a date with Javier. You. Had a date. With Javier. 

You drove home, got to your apartment, and started working feverishly on the rest of your costume. 

Next weekend had to be perfect. 

***

You finished your make up and looked at yourself in the mirror. You had arrived at the convention center early and started getting ready in the bathroom as other cosplayers had begun to trickle in. For everything else in your life, you were unsure of yourself, constantly second guessing your choices and worrying if you were, in fact, wrong about everything.

But in this space, you felt strong. Confident. Because, despite the occasional hater in your comments, the majority of your feedback was positive. Besides, you were someone else when you put on your outfit. You were Star.Bright.909, a cosplayer with over a thousand followers. Not as many compared to the big name cosplayers, but you were proud of yourself for getting this far.

So when you came out of the restroom looking your best, the few gasps you heard were worth it. As you walked outside towards the photography area that had been set aside for cosplayers, you already had five people asking to take photos of you.

You smiled and posed and thanked everyone who wanted to take a photo. You were gracious and patient, even though you were trying to meet up with some photographers you had spoken with online. When you reached the small plaza, you met up with them and worked for the rest of the morning, posing as the photographers asked and networking with other cosplayers in the area. 

Just as you were about to head off towards the lobby to check out the dealer's hall, a man walking through the crowd caught your attention. Dressed up in a skin tight lycra Spiderman outfit, you could tell immediately that his muscles were real. The way he moved was smooth, graceful, and awfully familiar, despite not seeing his face. 

Wait. 

It couldn't. 

As he came closer to you, he bowed in a gentlemanly fashion and held out his hand. 

"Hola, mi Estrella."

You squeaked. "Javier?" 

"Just your friendly neighborhood Spiderman," he said, a teasing lilt to his voice. "Perhaps we could take a photo together?" 

"Of course," you said, suddenly shy. A professional model wanted to take a photo with you. Granted, you knew Javier, but he was still a pro, while you were an amateur. 

"Do you mind if I put my arm around you?" he asked politely. 

"That’s fine," you said, your face warming. 

He nodded and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close for the photo. You grinned, channeling your happiness into your smile. Holding up the phone for a selfie, Javier took a few shots before taking a look at them to check their quality.

He still hadn't let go of you. 

"Whoops, sorry," he said, finally letting go. 

"It's okay," you quickly said. "I… I didn't mind."

He looked at you, but his mask prevented you from seeing his expression. 

"Are you free now?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm free for the rest of the day." You had worked yesterday and some of today, but you always left the last half-day of any convention for shopping or panels. 

Javier held out his hand and you gladly took it, letting him walk you back to the entrance of the convention center. 

As the two of you walked past one of the hotels that lined the plaza, you saw the laces of one of your boots hit the ground. 

"Hold on," you said as you stepped off the main path to tie it back. 

Then you felt the splash of liquid come down on your head, the smell of alcohol pungent and seeping into your wig.

For a moment you were shocked. Then the overwhelming sense of frustration hit you and all you could do was stay still and will yourself not to cry. Not in front of Javier. 

Warm hands touched your wet shoulders. 

"Sweetie. Come on, let's get you changed. Can I escort you to your hotel room?"

You looked up at him, at his compassionate eyes, and you shook your head. “I drove here this morning.” You had driven here from your apartment, an hour away.

“Oh. I see.” He took your hand and began to lead you down the road, away from the convention center. 

"Where are we going?" 

"My hotel room, if that’s alright. Or would you rather go back to the convention hall?"

“You got a room?” you said in surprise. 

He shrugged. “I have other business in the city tomorrow morning, figured it’d be easier to spend the night.”

“Oh, okay,” you said, unsure of what else to say. 

“So… are you okay coming with me? I won’t do anything, I promise.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” You put your hand on his arm. “I trust you, Javier.”

He nodded and continued to walk with you. He was taking you to his bedroom. No ulterior motives, he just wanted to help you get clean.

But part of you really wished he had some ulterior motives.

***

“I’ll get you some extra clothes from my backpack,” Javier called out to you as he left you to clean up in the bathroom on your own.

You stared in the mirror; your make up was ruined, your wig would need an extreme clean up when you got home, and your costume was stained and reeked of alcohol. As you took off everything and tried to rinse out what you could in the sink, you counted yourself lucky that this had happened at the end of the convention rather than the beginning. At least you had all of your shots and you could maybe sell a few prints to make some of your cash back.

You showered and dried your hair as quickly as you could, not wanting to take up more of Javier’s time. He had left a shirt and shorts in front of the bathroom door for you, and you opened the door a crack to pull them inside, throwing them on. They were a bit loose on you, but that was a welcome relief, compared to the skin tight costume you had on earlier.

“Alright, I’m good,” you said as you exited the bathroom. Javier was lying on the bed, his legs still on the floor. His costume was unzipped to expose his torso, his arms up in the air as he was typing on his phone. Turning his head to you, he gave you a lazy grin before patting the bed next to him. 

“Have a seat, I’m just finishing this post for Insta.”

You sat next to him and took in his body from up close. His abs were perfect; you wanted to run your hands down them to see how they’d feel under your fingers. He was lean, tanned, muscles, everything you lusted after.

“What do you think?”

You quickly looked up at him, as if he hadn’t just caught you staring at his body. He was holding out his phone, a picture of the two of you with your costumes. The caption said, Found my favorite cosplayer today! She graciously took a selfie with me, isn’t she wonderful?

You felt warm from his kind words. “You’re too nice to me,” you mumbled.

Javier laughed softly and sat up. “I like being nice to you.” He posted the photo and put his phone down. Turning towards you, he reached up and stroked your face with the back of his knuckles. “I just… like you.”

You swallowed. The fact that he was saying that now, with you wearing baggy clothes, your make-up gone, just being your unglamorous self, meant so much that you started to tear up.

“Did I say the wrong thing?”

“No,” you said between tears. “I like you too.”

He started to lean in for a kiss before he stopped. “May I?”

“You can do whatever you want to me,” you said without thinking.

A moment passed, his deep brown eyes searching yours. “Anything?” he finally said.

You nodded. Time to own up to your words, to your feelings that you had been denying for so long. “Yes.”

“Well, I’d rather do whatever we want with each other,” he said, smiling gently.

You leaned in and kissed him, surprising him and surprising yourself. Your hands rested on his chest and you gave in, exploring his toned body, his skin underneath your fingers, feeling warm and inviting to your touch. He pulled you into his arms and kissed you back, a passionate inhalation of your very spirit, as if he wanted to merge his soul with yours.

Soon he pressed you down against the mattress and kissed you for a few moments more before he pulled away. “Wait here for a few, I’m going to shower so I don’t smell like sweat and spandex. You deserve better than that.”

You laughed as he kissed your cheek and went to shower. 

Laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, you managed to find your brain again. You, and he, were about to…

Your brain left again and you just grew warm between your legs. You wanted him so much.

In a daze, you didn't notice the sound of the shower turning off. You didn't notice the door open and close. You only noticed when he came back to the bed, wearing just a towel around his waist, smiling down at you. The tendrils of his black hair clung to his cheeks, still damp from the shower, as drops of water slid down his neck to his chest, drawing a line you desperately wanted to trace with your tongue. As your eyes moved lower, you noticed his towel wasn’t exactly hiding his desire for you.

"I've wanted you for so long, querida," he said, his voice like fingertips gliding down your spine as he stepped to the foot of the bed. Taking off your shirt and throwing it aside, he grabbed your breasts and kissed them, laving each nipple with his tongue before pinching and teasing you with his dexterous fingers until you were a writhing mess. You could feel your panties being soaked by your desire, and you shifted your legs, wanting to remove them.

Your movement attracted his attention, and he looked down at you. Reaching down to pull at the waistband of your (his) shorts, he pulled them off, revealing your beige panties.

“Aw, I thought you would have gone commando,” he teased as he tugged your underwear down your legs, his fingers caressing you along the way.

“They weren’t soaked with alcohol,” you mumbled.

“They’re soaked now,” he said with a cocky grin, tossing them aside. Then he placed a hand at each of your knees and spread your legs open, revealing your most intimate body parts to him. Licking his lips, he knelt down and pulled your hips to the edge of the bed. 

The moment Javier’s tongue brushed against your core, you nearly came. He was hungry, so hungry, and ate you out like a man starved. With one hand he held you down, his fingers splayed out on your stomach and occasionally digging into your soft flesh while he slipped one finger inside of you, stretching you out slowly.

“Let me hear what I’m doing to you, baby,” he said before diving back in.

“Y-you’re, making me, feel really, good,” you managed to say between sharp intakes of breath.

“Bien, bien,” he praised, petting your belly. “Come on my tongue, querida, I want to taste your happiness.”

With that command, he slipped another finger inside of you and sucked hard on your center, his eyes on you as he drove your body into a heated frenzy, barely able to hold you down as you keened. Your hips undulated out of your control as the spiral unraveled and you let go, euphoria zipping up and down your body. You cried out wordlessly as you peaked and then fell, landing in a fluffy cloud of afterglow.

“Oh my god, Javier,” you breathed. “That was amazing.”

“Who said we were done?”

You lifted your head up just in time to see his teasing grin as he stood up.

And he dropped his towel.

Your lust went through the roof; you were so ready for round two.

His hands on your knees, he pushed them up to your shoulders.

“Hold your legs open for me.”

You willingly obeyed.

Javier cupped your cheek and leaned down to kiss you, the taste of your release still lingering on his lips. You felt him nudge you open, his length sliding inside of you as the two of you shared a moan, swallowed up by each other’s kiss.

He continued to kiss you as he slowly pressed forward until his hips were flush with yours.

“You feel like heaven,” he said as he leaned back so that he was standing over you, his cock deep inside of you, your hips barely on the edge of the bed. He gripped your waist, his hands warm in contrast to the cool hotel air. Slowly sliding out of you until only the tip of him remained, the only warning you got was the feel of his fingers digging into you before he slammed back into you.

“Oh my god!” you yelped.

“Too much?” he asked, looking a little worried.

“Keep going, please,” you begged. “I want it hard!”

“Oh yes,” he moaned before going all out, letting loose all of his lust for you as he fucked you in a frenzy. He fell upon you, crushing you into the mattress as he wrapped a hand around your neck. “Like this, baby?”

“Yes!” you breathed out, your voice cracking. “More, more!”

Javier’s eyes lit up as he pulled out of you and picked you up effortlessly, tossing you into the center of the bed and rolling you onto your stomach before climbing up onto the bed. You felt his length sliding along the curve of your ass before he lifted your hips up slightly and mounted you from behind, moaning softly.

“You’re perfecto,” he whispered into your ear when he covered you with his body and began to fuck you from behind, his hand wrapping around your neck again. You could feel the brush of his hair along your skin as he rutted into you, his deep sounds of pleasure echoing in your ears.

His long fingers found their way to your clit. One stroke and you flinched, still sensitive from your last climax. He didn’t show you any mercy; the hand around your neck tightened, his legs trapped yours in place, and his fingers found your core once again, stroking you oh so perfectly. The pressure from his touch was just right, the feel of his breath against your ear as he slipped into another language to tell you how much he coveted you.

Javier’s head pressed against your temple. “Give me everything, baby. I want you so much.”

His words, his touch, his absolute possession of your body made your release so much stronger this time around. You cried out his name as pure pleasure rocketed through your bloodstream, a high better than any drug. His hips kept pumping as you spasmed beneath him, wringing out every last gasp and moan from you until you were shaking with the aftershocks.

“Let me make a mess of you,” he growled.

“Yes, please,” you said mindlessly, willing to do whatever he asked. 

He pulled out of you and rolled you onto your back. Straddling your waist, he took your hand and wrapped it around his cock. You stroked him rapidly, watching his eyes burn with ecstasy, his breathing grow heavier as he reached his peak. Reaching for his balls with his other hand, you fondled him gently, looking up at him with a smile.

That flipped a switch, as he reached for your neck again, his other hand wrapping around yours to apply more pressure to his cock as he came, spilling himself all over your breasts. He moaned your name as he finished, looking at you in complete awe.

“Fuck,” he breathed, letting go of your neck and hand as he fell to one side and rolled to face you. “I haven’t come like that in forever.”

Looking at his satisfied face, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was just a one time deal or if this was the start of something, you weren’t sure what.

You must have looked concerned, because he frowned, his brow wrinkled with concern. “What’s on your mind?”

“Um, I… never mind,” you quickly said, deciding not to voice your thoughts.

He leaned in, placed both his hands on your cheeks, and squished your face a little. “Please tell me.”

With his gaze so intensely close to you, you spoke without filtering. “Is this a one time deal? Or can we be… something more?”

He stopped squishing your cheeks, but he kept his hands on your face. Kissing your forehead, then your nose, then your lips, he smiled at you. “I want something more. Do you?”

You nodded enthusiastically.

“So let’s try."

You couldn't help the grin that broke out on your face. 

"That's the smile I fell for," he said, smiling back. As he tried to pull you close, you pushed on his chest. 

"I'm sticky."

Javier just laughed. "Let's take a shower then." He cupped your cheek and kissed you again, his lips lingering on yours before he pulled back to gaze into your eyes. The way he looked at you pulled at your heart, while his next words made you happier than you had ever been. 

"You're the brightest star in my life."

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

End Notes: A bit on the nose, but the lyric is from Hips Don’t Lie by Shakira. Hope you enjoyed this story! One more left in this series. I’m going to wrap it up with the last Arthur x F!Reader!

Also happy birthday to @eddescuella!!! I waited so I could post on your special day! 💖💖💖

[pink-bird-30]

RobStar Week 2020- Rescue

How is everyone doing?!  Welcome back to RobStar Week 2020 day 5!!!!  Are we ready for today’s post?!  I know I am!

As always, my stories are connect for this RobStar week.  I do encourage you to go read the last 4 days works before reading this one.

Here is my link to my FF.net if you’d like to read the collection here:

(https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13635654/1/RobStar-Week-2020-All-Works)

Warning, I made a really bad pun in here.  and for my comic book Batfam readers, there’s an easter egg in here for you.  Let me know if you find it!

Happy Reading!

--------

The party was in full swing by the time Kori and Dick made their way down the main stairs of Wayne Manor.  Bruce was throwing one of his annual galas to raise money for the GCPD.  But Dick was unaware that this would be happening while he and Kori were visiting before their wedding.

Over the past year there had been arrangements made for Robin and Starfire to get married.  But due to being heroes, and everyone scattered around the world, they thought it’d be best to have the ceremony in Gotham.

Starfire and Robin thought it’d be best to go to Gotham to get everything settled for the ceremony.  A simple task to make sure everything they wanted was perfect.

Quick and easy, right?

Wrong.

Really wrong.

Ever since news spread that Bruce Wayne’s son was engaged, the media had been in a frenzy.  Naturally, Bruce took this as an opportunity to make it known the couple would be attending his annual gala.

This was not ideal for both Kori and Dick.

The moment the two stepped down into the ballroom of Wayne Manor, the entire room erupted in applause and congratulations.  Kori buried her face in Dick’s neck trying to hide from the constant flashes from the media.  His arm came up to comfort her, resting on her bare back.

The dress she wore was definitely one of his favorites.  A dark blue halter dress with a low back; it was an inside joke as to why she chose that color.  Unknown to the world, after Dick and Kori get back from their honeymoon, Dick was going to step down as Robin and hand the mantel over to his little brother Jason.  He’d been working hard and Dick knew his time as Robin was coming to an end.

“Dick, Kori, over here.”  Bruce waved them over and passed each of them a glass of champagne.

Brice tapped the side of his glass gathering the attention of everyone in the room, “Excuse me, I’d like to make a toast. To my son Dick, and my future daughter-in-law Kori on their engagement.  I think I speak for everyone here and wish you two a happy marriage.  To Dick and Kori!”

The room cheered for the couple before they all continued their conversations.

Dick and Kori did their best to keep away from other people and stick together.  As long as they stayed together, they wouldn’t have any issues.  Dick was mostly concerned with Kori getting lost with all these people.  

He knew these types, upper class snobs who think they’re better than everyone.  Most of the time they show up to these charity events to get a tax break.  Or get into the Gotham Gazette as the ‘Best Dressed’ of the week.

After an hour of roaming the party, Dick tried his best to keep up the good son charade but it was weighing on his nerves.  He kissed Kori on the cheek and quietly whispered to her, “Hey, wannah get out of here?”

“Yes, please.”

They said their goodbyes to the couple they were talking to and did their best to make their way back to the library.  But before they got too far Kori was pulled away by a group of young women Dick recognized as his former classmates from Gotham Academy, and Dick was pulled away by Wally West.

“My my, you’re a hard man to find, Grayson.”  The two men hugged each other.

“Wally, how you’ve been?”  They walked over to the bar, each asking the bartender for a beer.

Wally leaned against the bar, taking a large swing of his beer, “Could be better, Jinx and I split up again.  I think this time for good.”

Dick patted his friend on the shoulder, “I’m sorry, man.  Maybe it’s for the best.”  Dick takes a drink from his beer and settles it back down on the bar.  “Kori told me that Artemis talks about you a lot.”

Wally seemed to brighten a bit at the news, “Really, and is Ms. Crock in attendance tonight?”

Dick let out a hearty laugh, “I don’t think so, I heard she was helping out at the Hall Of Justice today since Bruce was throwing this gala.”

Wally hummed before chugging his beer, belched, which caught the attention of an older blonde woman from across the room, and tipped an invisible hat to Dick.

“Til next time, Grayson.  I got a lady to woo.” And then Wally was gone in a flash.

Dick took one final sip of his beer and glanced around the ballroom trying to see where Kori had gone off to.

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

Kori wasn’t sure how she ended up with this group of girls, but she wished someone would come and rescue her.

“So, you’re the lucky woman who tied down Grayson.” The tall brunet woman said.

“Is it true you’ll inherit the Wayne fortune with this marriage, no prenup?” said the short red headed woman.

“I heard he’s amazing in bed.” Was the comment from the blonde leaning against the wall.

Kori’s eyes widened at the questions being pelted at her, she tried her best to stay at Dick’s side, but somehow they ended up separated a few moments ago.

“Well, umm…” Kori didn’t know what to say.  To be completely honest she didn’t even understand half the things these women were saying to her.

X’hal, where did Richard go…

The women started laughing, “Oh you poor dear, out of your element are we?”

The redhead turned to the blonde and snickered, “Look at her, I doubt she is from wealth herself.”

“A mere peasant if anything.”  The Brunette turned back to Kori to glare at her, “So which is it, were you some random tramp he found or are you pregnant with his bastard child?”

Kori’s jaw dropped and was close to slapping the smirk off the woman’s face before an arm settled around her shoulders, unfamiliar to her.

The face of the three snobbish women gaped at the man that was standing next to Kori.

“Ladies,” Bruce said casually.  “I couldn’t but overhear that you were speaking poorly to my daughter.  Now what were you saying about her being a tramp?”

Kori knew that tone, it was his ‘I’m Batman’ voice.

“Well umm…”

“Mr. Wayne, we can explain.”

“Aren’t you so handsome up close.”

Bruce hummed and snapped his fingers at two guards walking through the crowd of people.

“Ah, gentlemen.  Please remove these women from the manor and make sure they never come back.  Enjoy the rest of your evening ladies.”

And with that, Bruce escorted Kori away from the group of women who were crying out their apologies to the bachelor.  He walked Kori down a hidden hallway away from the party and pushed on a false wall before they both walked inside.

Bruce let Kori go and pushed the button in the hidden elevator, bringing them down to the Batcave.  Kori awed in surprise, not realizing the Batcave was located underneath Wayne Manor.  After stepping off the elevator, she slowly walked around looking at all the different weapons on the walls, the various vehicles that were stationed near a long dark opening, and the ops area that held a single chair and a round table behind it.

“How glorious, Richard did not mentioned the cave of bat was beneath your home.”  Bruce could see the awe across the young woman’s face and gestured for her to take a seat at the ops table.

The Bruce that helped her out of her predicament was gone, replaced with the man she knew from Richard’s stories.

“I’m not surprised…Dick did leave here in a hurry.”

Kori looked up to Bruce, seeing that carful façade slipping for a moment.  She got up from the chair and walked over to him, placing her hand on his shoulder.

“From what he has told me, it was not the easy decision for him.”

Bruce smiled slightly and draped a blanket over Kori’s shoulder before ushering her back to the chair.

“I’ll locate Dick for you.”

Kori nodded and swiveled back to face the array of computer screens taking up the largest portion of the cave wall.

“And Kori,”  She turned to face him.  “I’m glad he has you.”

He turns to step back into the elevator, letting it shut behind him.

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

No longer than ten minutes passed before Dick rushed out of the elevator and made his way to Kori.

“Kor!  I tried looking everywhere for you.  What happened?  Bruce only told me a little bit of what the women said.”

Kori got up from the chair and took Dick’s suit jacket from him, draping it on the back of the chair before pulling him into a deep kiss.

Slowly, they pulled apart.  Kori rubbed her nose against his and places a gentle kiss on his cheek before stepping back.

“It does not matter.  Bruce did the rescuing of me from those…” Kori scowls. “…unpleasant women, they do the reminding of Kitten.”

Dick groans, “I remember those girls from the academy.  They’re really just a bunch of leached trying to find their way into the upper class.”

Kori nodded, knowing the type.

“I am the grateful Bruce was there, I was close to hitting the blonde one.”

Dick laughs before pulling Kori close again, resting his forehead on her’s as they slowly sway together.

“That, I would have loved to see.  These galas were always so boring as a kid.”

Kori giggles and presses a soft kiss to his lips.  They stayed like this for a few minutes, just enjoying each other’s company away from the world above them.

“Richard?” Kori looked past Dick’s shoulder to the corner of the cave.

“Yeah, Kor?”  Dick wrapped his arms tighter around her and started to trail his lips down her neck.

“Why does the cave of bats have a dinosaur?”

[chicagocityofclans]

Good Evening City of Clans,

As we discussed on Discord, due to inactivity, we have decided to end the Starter Prompt early. On Friday, February 19th at 9 am CST we will be ending the Starter Prompt and dropping threads. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause muns and muses. Our dash has threads that have been open and ongoing since December. These threads are beginning to overlap. A mass thread drop will be refreshing and show the effects of the Starter Prompt. 

To aid in making this transition smooth, we’ve attached a recap of the Starter Prompt and a few major events that have taken course since December. Below the ‘Keeping Reading’ will be every Original Character who has joined Chicago that might not be on written bios; Upcoming plots and major plots that are now set in motion; Full recap of the 10 Starter Prompts; and new main RPG links to check out. 

Please feel free to contact us if you have any questions and/or concerns. Also, be on the lookout for our Favorites Prompt coming out on Saturday. 

New Arrivals Update

The following people have arrived in Chicago since December.

Inez Sparks: Inez is a newly written human shifter that has been established in Chicago for decades. She might not have connections to prewritten bios but she has connections to the local human shifters. Please refer to her bios for these connections.

Gendry Kingsley: Gendry is a witch who is over a millennia-old. He has returned to Chicago after being gone for about a decade. He might not have connections to prewritten bios but he has connections to the local supernatural community. Please refer to his bios for these connections.

Siobhan Cooke: Siobhan is a newly written Kodiak Bear shifter who has lived in Chicago and been a part of Clan Heavy for her entire life. She might not have connections to prewritten bios but she has connections to Clan Heavy. Please refer to her bio for these connections.

Ella Greene: Ella is a newly written hyena that was born and raised outside of Chicago. She was recently bitten and turned into a hyena. She might not have connections to prewritten bios but she has connections to local Hyena Clan. Please refer to her bio for these connections.

Tiggy Krieger: Tiggy was scouted out by a local seeker, Emmett Wilhelm, to join the Chicago supernatural population. She is a warlock with the power of disintegration and is now mentoring under Garrett Cleirigh.

Luke Corvinus: Luke’s pack was killed senselessly by hunters. He is a coywolf who came to Chicago in search of Anton and has joined the Nimble Clan. He is debating joining the local Wolf Clan but refuses to do so without Anton.

Dante Parisi: Dante is a grizzly bear and a member of Michael Johnansen’s old pack. Dante alone with 36 moose, 20 assorted bears, 8 mountain goats, multiple families of bison, reindeers, and rams moved to Chicago and joined Clan Heavy after they had trouble adjusting in Wyoming.

Natasha Mahoney: Natasha is a human shifter that moved to Chicago from Nashville. She moved along with her sister to be closer with her long-distance boyfriend, Sirius Cobic, and to work as a supernatural lawyer.

General Plot Updates

Clan Rat has found out about the Underground being truly poisoned and the Vampire Seethe Master is asking for retribution from the entire clan for the damage and heartache they’ve caused.

The local Human Shifters have confessed that a handful of human cops, detectives, judges, and internal affairs (law enforcement) know about the Supernatural. While the immortal three could care less, a majority of the Animal Shifter Council is furious and are in the works of planning a Council meeting to discuss possible consequences.

The Lasiter Mark has officially been added to the Codex. Updates on the main are soon to follow.

Gretchen Sims has finally officially taken the head position of Clan Hyena. Nada Rajui has returned to his position as 2nd and Liaison.

Scorpius Getta has told the supernatural community about plans for Hotel Winona and asked for Witches and Warlocks to lend a hand.

Garrett Cleirigh has campaigned for the open warlock seat on the council and has been granted the seat.

Starter Prompt Recap 

Below is a recap of what happened during the unfinished Starter Prompt.

Bess

Bess found out about vampires. Dan killed a Comic book store owner and Bess caught him in the act. Dan eventually convinced her to help him clean up the mess. He promised her they would see again before running from the freshly cleaned-up scene. 

Bess has possibly found out about magic users. She found Lyra on the scene of a deadly B&E (breaking and entering). Lyra followed a spirit that was begging for help when Bess showed up. Lyra explained to Bess that she thought she heard someone in the backroom calling out for help before eventually teleporting away. 

Bess found out about the supernatural. Inez was trying to cover up a hyena attack when Bess showed up on the scene. The owner of a Comic Book store was bitten and in the process of changing as Inez tried to come up with a cover story for Bess. During this Bess was attacked by a shifted hyena whom Inez shot dead as a result. Bess was bleeding from the head when Inez reported that there was an officer down and that they needed an ambulance. Inez stayed on the scene to explain things to the responding human shifter cop.

Ainsley 

Rhiannon found Ainsley as a fox and took her home to heal her. She believed her to be a real fox and was simply wanting to help out an injured animal. Ainsley shifted back to her human form once Rhiannon had her healed and Rhiannon offered her a change of clothes and a ride back to her home. 

Patch found a fox being attacked by a wild coyote and saved her. He brought her home and cared for her thinking she was a real fox. He eventually called on Judson to help him and it was an awkward moment when he found out his new pet, Maid Marian, was actually Ainsley from Clan Nimble. Judson volunteered to take Ainsley home as Patch wrapped his head around having bathe a grown woman in her shifted form. 

Peter saved Ainsley from a coyote attack. He caught the color of her white eyes earlier on and knew she was a nimble shifter. He talked her into shifting back to her human form but Ainsley soon passed out after. Giving her his jacket, Peter took her to the hospital and contacted Clan Nimble. He stayed long enough to give a police report and retell the story to Percy before leaving. 

Conrad

Lyra was found by Ben’s ghost and led to where Conrad was laying. She decided to help him out of the Underground, and this led to Conrad finding out that Lyra could speak and see Ben, who had died over a year ago. Lyra explained that her powers allowed her to see and speak with the spirits of the dead. 

Conrad was found unconscious and naked by Kris, who ran to Jaxson and Sam, who were visiting the Underground, for help. Jaxson took charge of the situation and ordered an evacuation of the Underground. Jaxson and Sam started to feel symptoms of whatever poison that was still lingering around Conrad as they carried him out of the Underground. Kris was waiting for them when they got out and drove them to one of the safehouses. 

Getta, Petra, and Sadie found Conrad unconscious and naked Underground. Getta ordered one of their magical healers to heal Conrad. They explained to Conrad what happened to him and the poisonous gas that plagues the Underground. Geta got in contact with the Human Shifter to escort Conrad out of the Underground, after having Conrad sign a waiver, acknowledging that he was not attacked by anyone Underground. 

Winnie found Conrad naked and unconscious in the Underground. She woke him up with her powers and after the two realized one another were Supernaturals he trusted her enough to get him out. Conrad shifted and Winnie carried him out in her pocket. He had her drop him off not far from a safe house. After she left he scurried in and passed out again.

Kudzai found Conrad naked and unconscious in the Underground. She teleported him to her home and began healing him. After he regained consciousness, Kudzai contacted Nick who came to pick him up. 

Monty 

Emmett got Monty to help with his search for a dangerous witch he was searching for. She was arrested and punished by the Council. Patch and Monty are tasked with coming up with a cover-up story for the Nimbles News report and their own police and autopsy reports. 

Duke was taken to Isaac. Monty did not believe that Duke had a twin brother that was the culprit. Isaac explained that Duke indeed had a twin brother and asked for the charges for the destruction of property to be dropped. 

Asa was taken to Clara. Clara’s reaction wasn’t the best, therefore, Monty didn’t stick around for long and made sure to erase all evidence. 

Ebony was taken to Alexus who happened to be with Grant at the moment. Monty told them of what happened that there will possibly be charges rung up against her if the animal shifter wanted.  

Kudzai 

Asa was injured due to Ebony but got away. He was found on the side of the road where he had fallen and was taken to the ER where Kudzai worked. She performed surgery on him and he is mending. 

Zack was injured in a clan dispute. Kudzai healed Zack’s minor injuries enough to wake him up and ask a few questions before preparing him for surgery. Zack asked for his wife, Sarah, to be called and waited for her to arrive before proceeding with the procedure. Zack had a bruised liver and had to have an exploratory laparoscopic procedure to examine the extent of the damage. Kudzai surgically and magically fixed Zack’s severe blood loss, a forming infection, and a slight problem forming in his bile ducts. The procedure was successful but Zack remained in the hospital under Kudzai care for a few days. Since Zack refused to age, Kudzai, with the help of Rhiannon had to slowly heal him and make it look like he was aging to trick the on-duty human nurses. 

Peter was injured in an attack by fellow wolves who were attempting to take his position. He allowed Kudzai to begin to heal him and asked that she contact Garrett Cleirigh. Who quickly teleported there and teleported Peter away. There was no discharge order and no patient, so Kudzai had to come up with a cover story, causing more tension between the two council members. 

Cassandra was unconscious when she arrived. Kudzai made quick work of healing her and contacted her emergency contact Helenus. Kudzai has asked that Cassandra return for a checkup since the reasoning behind her unconsciousness was inconclusive. 

Ebony 

Helo was setting up new surveillance for CAMO when Ebony came out in full gear and began running after him. He eventually played it off like he was human, and swore not to tell anyone she chased him if she let him go. He is unsure if she bought the ruse or not. Ebony doesn’t fully buy Helo’s story and plans on getting security surveillance up soon. She has also reached out to her neighbors about a suspicious kid around the neighborhood that she thinks might break in; knowing they will more than likely call the cops if he shows his face around there again.

Ebony has made it aware that she wants to take over the family and went on a hunt to prove her intentions. Sam saw Ebony prowling around the younger Jackal shifters she was watching and decided to lead her off of them. This led to a chase in the park where the two women fought. Sam was able to change into her rat form and slip away from the hunter. She sustained mild injuries but declined to admit how she got them to others in her pack out of embarrassment that a hunter got some hits in. Ebony is trying to figure out what kind of supernatural the girl was. One moment she was there and another moment she had vanished. She is hoping to trail the girl in the future and find out more. 

Ebony was chasing Asa on a hunch that he was an animal shifter. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it but she was guessing that he was something big and powerful by the way he moved through the trees. Ebony eventually caught up with Asa and held his attention with a crossbow pointed at his heart. She was able to do a brief interrogation before Asa attacked then gave her the slip. Asa made it to the ER with a crossbow injury and a few other cuts and bruises. 

Lyra

Neaera got a recording of Lyra performing a ritual in the woods. While Lyra was able to bind the spirit but she didn’t finish her ritual due. Neaera played dumb and ran from the scene. She replayed what she got to Ray and Louis. GOLD plans on returning to the scene of the ritual to see if they can gather more information and they also plan on putting an expert group on Lyra. 

Talia walked in on Lyra performing a ritual by chance. The disruption was enough for one of the spirits to escape. Talia and Lyra spent the entire night recapturing the escaped spirit. Lyra finished her ritual but it was under the close watch of Talia and Roman; whom Talia talked Lyra into calling.

Averill watched Lyra work from the darkness of the woods, randomly, but a scream from somewhere else distracted the both of them. They would later find out it was a scream from a hunter hunting down an animal shifter. Lyra had asked that Averill help her catch the elemental spirits that escaped during the short distraction for her ritual. The two formed a somewhat awkward bond while hunting down and summoning the last two spirits needed for the ritual. 

Ken 

Ken managed to get out of the Underground without too many consequences thanks to Arthur. He called Judson once out of the Underground and Judson teleported to his aid. Once Judson saw that it was Arthur that had helped Ken, Ken learned that Arthur was a good friend of Roman’s, who had made Ken’s work life a living nightmare. 

Isabetta was unaffected by Ken’s powers. She easily picked him out of the crowd as the possible culprit which Ken confessed to and had no power over what was happening. Offering to help him out and into a Lyft or Uber, Isabetta and Ken made their way out of the underground while avoiding people who were obviously affected by his power. Ken may have given Isabetta his number and address as a thank you gesture. He also offered to get her a wine bottle filled with the blood of an aged witch or warlock with the power of her choice. 

Rachel was working on her homework Underground when she noticed all of the non-vampires were acting strange. She was ready to bold, not wanting anyone to think she had anything to do with it when she nearly tripped over Ken. They met before and striking up a conversation wasn’t hard. Rachel found out that it was Ken causing all of the commotions and that his powers don't work on her. With the help of Fiona and Aleksander, Rachel was able to help Ken from the Underground and contact Simon who took Ken home. 

Skylar 

Skylar accidentally pulled water out of Kate’s water bottle. She witnessed the water act almost animatedly and when Skylar ran into the nearest store, Kate followed. There she was met with the sight of her long-term crush, Ryan Cleirigh. He sent Skylar away to Judson and then invited Kate up to his apartment to explain what she saw. 

Skylar lost control of her powers when she found out she was locked out of her apartment building. Minsky tried to help her calm down but Skylar’s magic had the best of her. She saw Minsky as a threat and the key her magic was forming eventually turned into a knife. Minsky managed to talk her down and Skylar apologized before making a run for Judson’s shop. She explained what happened to Judson, who gave her Minsky’s number, and Skylar personally called him to apologize again.

Fenrin saved Skylar from exposing herself when she accidentally used her magic in public. He triggered a fire hydrant to go off and made his escape with Skylar. Both had heard of each other from mutual contacts caused Skylar to be more relaxed than she would have with anyone else. Fenrin offered to buy her a coffee to calm her nerves as she waited for Audo, Ryan, or Judson to return home. Fenrin and Skylar talked about their shared powers and got to know each other. 

Kudzai witnessed Skylar’s accidental magic. Being older and a Council member, Kudzai was able to send a spell causing the water to evaporate. She and Skylar walked around the block before Kudzai offered to teleport inside of Skylar’s apartment. While they were walking, Kudzai was able to calm Skylar’s nerves and assure her that things like that happened all the time. Skylar has never thought about joining the medical field but they had exchanged numbers and Kudzai told Skylar to contact her if she ever wanted to talk about it.

Skylar’s magic had a mind of its own and unknowingly pulled coffee from two Starbucks cups Lyra was holding to form a key for her apartment. Lyra’s soothing and calming tone helped Skylar calm down enough to stop her oncoming panic attack. With instructions from Lyra, Skylar was able to place the coffee back into the coffee cups but insisted on buying Lyra new ones. 

Michael 

Asa heard about what was happening at the zoo and went to help Michael with crowd control. Michael and Asa lost sight of each other when the human shifters finally stepped in after someone tried to climb over a gated area. However, when Michael returned to the Hotel, and sought out Asa and thanked him for his help. 

Clara saw Michael’s speech and the outcome on social media. She went to help but somehow the two got into a heated dispute. A few choice words were said and Michael has been avoiding Clara like a plague. 

Hailey lost track of where she was and ended up in a rioting crowd that Michael was trying to talk the crowd down and keep the peace. Michael explained what was happening to her but was quickly pulled away from her by someone else. 

Ebony was tracking someone to the zoo when she ran into the big crowd. Michael tried to explain what was happening to her but she clearly wasn’t buying what he was selling. Michael doesn’t know she’s a hunter but wrote down his Twitter information on a flyer he gave her. He would like to continue to pick her brain but it is only if she follows him or reaches out to him. 

New Links and Pages

Most Wanted Connections - New Tag

Most Wanted Connections Application - New Page 

Monthly Plot Updates - New Navi Section 

Rules Page - Update 02/12/2021

Taken Face Claims - Updated 02/18/2021

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[oneletteredwondered]

Notes on a Wall

Sum: Patton communicates with his roommates through notes on whiteboards.

Pair: literally whatever you want, but honestly probably polyamsanders/LAMP

Warnings: uhhh slight weed mention? pot brownies for like four lines, lots of food mentions, swearing

–

When Patton first decided to live off campus and live in a shared house with three random strangers, he honestly really didn’t know what to expect. Sure he had been hopeful in some regards, maybe he could make a friend in this new place, or maybe one of them would answer the door when he knocked so he wouldn’t have to put the heavy box in his hands down to fish out his keys from the depths of his pocket.

“Hello?” He calls into the open room. No answer. He lets out a small huff and works on kicking the box in with his foot in lieu of lifting it back up. He closes the door behind him to not let any of the colder air out and then takes a look around his new living space.

It looks exactly as advertised. Plainly painted beige walls and plain beige carpet. He stands in the living room, spinning in a bit of a circle to take it all in. The living room is a decent size for a rented place. Someone already brought in a couch and there’s a TV placed on the floor. It’s all joined into what could be a dining area if there was a table, but for now it’s just this floating open space. Then there’s a kitchen, small, cramped, and a single coffeemaker stands on the counter. 

On both sides of the living space is two small hallways, each with three doors. The two on the ends are bedrooms, the one in the center a shared bathroom between the two bedrooms.

Patton twists up his nose. He huffs again and lifts up his box of books, the heaviest of his things so the first he brought in and heads towards the left hallway. Both bedrooms doors have some small decal on them. The room tucked in the corner has a wooden sign on the door, the words “Please do not Disturb” written in white against a dark blue background. The other has a wooden name placard in a bold glittering red, ‘R’, written in calligraphy that’s almost hard to read.

Patton teeters to the right side of the living room with his heavy box.

The door more hidden in the corner has purple caution tape wrapped from corner to corner, making it look like an X across the door. Patton tilts his head to the side to read the writing. ‘Caution Reclaimed Water Below’. Now Patton is sure that’s not accurate, but he doesn’t know enough about the place to dispute that claim. He turns to the other door, plain and unmarked.

Carefully, and with his tongue peeking out of his mouth, he manages to twist the knob without dropping his box on his foot and opens the door. Finally! He is able to put the box down in somewhat of a proper place. He puts his hands on his hips in triumph for just a good self proud second, then heads right back out to grab more boxes from his beaten down truck.

Perhaps not a good car, but he loves Bessie and the little cow plushie sitting on the rear dash too much. His truck is plain silver and on the smaller side when compared to most trucks, but it makes him worry less about driving in the lines so it works. The back seat is full of boxes of random things for college while the bed of the truck holds his dresser, bookcase, and a side drawer painted with bright blue flowers.

He’ll travel later tonight to get his bed from his dad’s house. It’s one of the last things he has at his dad’s place besides an odd photo album or poster or two. Patton can barely believe they’ll be apart like this for the first time. Sure he’s been at college for about a year now but his dad kept his bed even when he moved almost three times during the year. It’s an odd feeling.

Patton manages to get the rest of his things settled in his room, beginning the stages of putting stuff in their rightful place as the night creeps in. His clothes are hung up and his college books are placed back on the shelves of his bookcase. All in all he’s rather accomplished.

He skips out of the room, eyeing his box of kitchen wares on the floor near the open space next to said kitchen. It hasn’t been touched, which is a good sign so far. None of his roommates have sticky fingers, or they just haven’t come out of their rooms yet. Patton blows up a puff of air at some of the curls in his face and heads out the door, locking it snugly behind him.

–

Patton is sniffly on his way back to his new apartment. He and his dad shared a very tearful goodbye, knowing they are very much separated now that Patton no longer has a bed there. But there were promises to write all wrapped up in a linked pinky that makes Patton feel better. He’s on his own and he’s proud of himself for that.

Plus! Now he has more than a bed. He has the old rickety table that leans to one side but doesn’t wobble, an old set of knives his dad never used, and then a set just for Patton. The knife set is complete, the blades baby blue and the handles white. Of course Patton cried. He loves them so much.

It’s been his passion since he’s been young and with a degree in hotel and restaurant management under way, he’s even closer to owning his own restaurant. He loves cooking too much, the passion of food, the spark of delight, and seeing someone ask for seconds fills his heart with rainbows.

He takes the box of knives in first, placing them in the kitchen area to be dealt with after the bed and table situation has been figured out. His box of other supplies has been moved slightly to a less in the way spot.

He struggles of course getting his mattress inside, but makes due all the same. When it’s finally set up and Patton manages to hook the corner of the fitted sheet over all edges, he flops down hard. He ends up giggling to himself. He did it all by himself and he feels tired, sore, and so accomplished.

But there’s still more to be done.

He’s about to get up when he hears a door open, and close. He can’t help it. He rushes to his own closed door and rips it open, just in time to see the front door close shut. His shoulders drop comically. So close, yet so far. It takes a moments pep talk for him to head to the kitchen area. Not a lot of drawers are taken up and there’s ample space for Patton to put all his utensils. He hums a little himself putting everything away, happily smiling at the sets of knives he now owns. Those go on the counter.

With everything put away he puts the container on the floor of their small pantry. Only a few things left. The table is much easier to move inside by himself. It fits nicely in the corner spot and even though he doesn’t have chairs, it’s still makes the place feel more homey. It’s then Patton knows exactly what to do with his dad’s other present.

All the time he’s been there, less than a whole day, Patton has felt off about the place. It looks like people live here, but it doesn’t look lived in. There’s no spark of fun. And Patton plans to fix it.

His last gift from his dad is a set of note boards. One plain white board, one scheduling white board with the days of the week with enough spots for four people, a cork board, two pads of paper, two different sticky note pads, and a dozen magnets.

He puts the cork board near the front door all even like and the scheduling white board right next to it. He writes the letter ‘P’ in a bright blue marker and what he knows of his schedule for the next semester. Next he puts the plain white board on the fridge with the magnetized pad of paper next to it. After careful consideration, he opens the fridge, and jots down on paper what to get from the store next time he goes.

After more consideration, he draws a simple blue heart on the fridge white board too.

After even more consideration, he takes a piece of paper from the pad not on the fridge, left on the counter, and writes down a simple greeting note.

“Hey! I just moved in! Feel free to use the boards!”

He pins it to the cork board, and heads to bed.

–

Shopping, Patton decides as his stomach grumbles audibly, is the most important thing to do with his morning. He woke up way too late in the afternoon, tired from moving all his stuff yesterday. Classes don’t start for another month or so, so he’s in no rush.

The bathroom is open for his use and he locks the door behind him. He puts his stuff in one of the open drawers and his shampoo in the shower corner. There’s already some stuff in there, including a make-up bag. Though curious to it’s contents, Patton doesn’t pry. He takes a decently long shower and feels happily refreshed and ready for shopping.

Maybe he writes on the mirror in washable marker a smiley but that’s not a big deal.

He grabs the shopping list off the pad and squeals when he notices.

To say Patton is delighted to see his boards have been used is an understatement.

There’s more items on the shopping list than before, two other sets of hand writing, both having written please on the bottom. Patton would be thrilled to get them things.

His face feels like splitting int two when he sees a note in response to the one left on the cork board.

“heard you come in last night. wanted to help but I didn’t. was too nerv didn’t know if was asleep.”

Even though Patton is unsure how they could have heard him and be asleep at the same time, it doesn’t stop him from appreciating the sentiment all the same. in response, Patton takes one of the sticky notes, draws a happy face, and tacks it to the response note.

During his whole shopping trip, Patton can’t help but feel giddy at seeing someone else’s writing next to his. He gets so much food, probably too much. But he saw the empty contents of that fridge and he is not about to let anyone eat scraps of food. Not on his water proof watch.

He shuffles in the groceries himself. Almost having to make three trips but he struggles with a determined smile on his face. As he puts away the groceries his mind races and over thinks and thinks again about all the different kinds of dishes he can make with his new ingredients. It’s a whole world to explore and the only constant is that he wants to cook for his new housemates.

So Patton does the only thing he can think of, and writes on the white board on the fridge, biting his lip happily seeing a red crown drawn next to his blue heart.

“I want to make dinner for you! What kind of foods do you like?”

And how he can not wait for a response he’s tempted to sit on the kitchen floor and hope someone comes in and answers his burning question. Do they like chicken? Steak? What about veggies? Are they vegetarian? Pasta? There’s so much Patton can barely contain himself.

The barely turns to can’t when he goes to head to his room and notices more writing on the schedule board. ‘L’ writes in black and their handwriting is neat. Patton can recognize it from the grocery list. They have their next semester schedule written along with times for going to the library, perhaps a job? Patton doesn’t know, oh but he wants to.

There’s a small pang of sadness knowing he has yet to actually meet, let alone see any of his roommates, but this? This is a wonderful start.

He’s certain the homemade mac and cheese he makes tastes better than ever this time around. He puts the leftovers int he fridge and puts a sticky note on it.

“Feel free!”

–

It’s not until later does Patton hear a door open, and yet again, even though his door is open this time, he doesn’t catch whoever is leaving. He huffs. Shouldn’t they talk by now? It’s been at least a whole day! He trudges to the living space, still not exactly lived in. Maybe if he sits on the couch someone will appear. Like magic, or hopeful thinking.

Still he smiles at seeing the last two spots on the schedule board filled up. ‘R’ uses red and takes up as much space as possible with their writing, and ‘V’ barely writes down any info except for some times and ‘out’. But it’s something and Patton, well Patton always did love too easily now didn’t he?

The only trouble comes when he does really look at their schedules, and how well they don’t line up at all. They have classes at different times, work and ‘out’ings all scattered, there’s barely a time when either of them could be in the house at the same time at all. That surely puts a damper on Patton’s not so slowly growing fondness to people he’s never really met.

He’s nothing but not optimistic, and that optimism strikes hard seeing some of the food taken out of the mac and cheese bowl, two new sticky notes of thanks written on the containers, and wonderfully, lovingly, responses written under his question from earlier.

“I am partial to nothing in specific. I appreciate the sentiment to make food for the house.”

“I am fond of Italian and Spanish cuisine~ Spicy foods always have a way to my heart as well~”

“pineapple pizza”

“hEATHEN”

Patton can’t help but giggle at the word boldly written through the pizza suggestion. As an aspiring food connoisseur he has yet to give his full opinion on the pros and cons of pineapple on pizza and will make no such judgement lightly. And maybe he does wish the other two had given him more to work with, he has something now and the words reply in his head like a melody in bright red marker.

Italian. Spanish. Spicy.

He can work with that. It’s not a lot, but it’s something and Patton loves it all the same.

So he cooks and fills the house with lovely smells and even if he doesn’t get to see someone eat it right away, he somehow knows they will like it.

–

“Thank you for all the food darling~”

“I agree it was delicious.”

“thx.”

–

Patton manages to land a job within the week, some moderately busy bistro in town. Not quite hole in the wall, but a very local business. The owner and manager is lovely and they seem to adore Patton. The head chef takes a shine to him right away and pulls Patton under his wing before Patton can properly say hi. To say Patton loves his new job is an understatement. 

He’s lucky, he knows he is. They are willing to work with his school schedule and the owner is willing to help Patton understand the business and how it works giving him an edge in one day owning his own place. It’s nearly a dream come true.

Patton takes his training very seriously and though it makes the head chef laugh, he admires Patton’s attitude when it comes to creating and cooking and actively encourages his branching out. Whenever they practice new dishes, they let Patton take home extra for his housemates. It’s the little things Patton decides.

He lets out a happy sigh at home, body buzzed and head full of fluff at his day at work. His work schedule has already been added to the white board and a take-out menu is pinned up to the cork board. It’s joined by a pamphlet to the planetarium, a list of dates for a school play, and flyer for some concerts in town.

Maybe it is silly but Patton loves writing to them. They still haven’t met just yet, but Patton swears he saw one of them passed out on the couch covered head to toe with a blanket the other day, and he swore he could hear another singing across the living room. Either way, he’s happy they are at least interacting with him in small ways.

He goes to put the containers in the fridge, marking an ‘L’ on top of the one he has, thinking that whoever ‘L’ is, they will enjoy this dishes specifically. Gosh if he doesn’t sigh dreamily looking up at the white board, looking at what everyone has written for the day.

“Thank you for the food, wonderful as always.”

“Everyone at my theater is jealous of my personal chef~”

“thx for food”

–

“Would you be willing to make the salmon and rice dish again? I find myself craving it’s flavor.”

“Not until they make those red hot wings again! I want to not be able to feel my taste buds!”

“do you want like us to pay you for this or something? you like buy all our groceries too dude i feel bad”

That question has two arrows pointing to it in different colors. 

That gives Patton pause. Pay him? Well, sure he wants to be paid for this eventually, and he is buying the groceries a lot, but he finds he doesn’t really mind. His college is mostly paid for on scholarship, and his job pays him well enough to cover rent and some fun. But most of Patton’s fun is cooking anyway so he would just spend it on groceries in the end.

He bites his lip as he responds.

“Only if you want to! I love cooking so it’s not a bother to me!” 

He’s sure to draw a small smiley face too. He hums happily and makes his way to work. He wouldn’t mind the financial help, but thinking back to the little notes of thanks and compliments they give him, it almost feels like payment enough.

When he gets home, he’s absolutely tickled to death seeing three separate magnets, one black, one red, one purple, each with two twenty dollar bills underneath. Well Patton may just cry at the thoughtfulness. He’s quick to write down the ingredients for Salmon Pilaf and Red Hot Wings. One day he hopes ‘V’, or who he thinks is ‘V’ based on color scheme, will write down what they like so Patton can make it for them.

He takes the money off the fridge.

“You guys are so sweet!!!!!”

–

“Thank you for the meal.”

“I want a copy of your cookbook, a subscription to your cooking show, and you as my personal chef~”

“thank”

–

Patton looks at the schedule, sticking his tongue out slightly. He’s sure, almost positive, that no one is home. ‘R’ and ‘L’ are out, and though ‘V’s schedule doesn’t say they are out, the house is so very quiet Patton doesn’t think they are. So he risks it, and dumps fruits and juice into the blender.

It’s not the most pleasant of noises, yet the way everything looks being ground up into a slush makes Patton wiggle in excitement. He’s left sticky notes on all his outward appliances, telling the others they can use them, but he doesn’t think they do. Maybe he’s spoiling them. He giggles because he enjoys it for now.

Once everything is blended he fills a cup up with the slushie smoothie mix he made. He keeps the rest in the blender and smacks the lid on. It’s put in the fridge with the same note all his mass of extras has.

“Feel free!”

–

“I had completely forgotten about breakfast foods, the smoothie was a good wake up.”

“My taste buds are singing your praises~”

“can you make another one? if its not too much trouble i mean”

–

Patton experiments with breakfast foods after that, leaving some pancakes and eggs and bacon and toast either in the fridge or carefully in the oven with notes telling where food is for them all to find.

He works with more fruits now after ‘V’ asked him to make another smoothie. He finds that his sweet things, not quite desserts, but fruity dishes go by fast. Perhaps he finally found out what ‘V’ likes and doesn’t that make Patton float above the ground.

Experiments are fun and though he’s not sure what he’s doing, Patton sticks his tongue out as the fruit simmers with the sugar carefully added. It’s a mixture of a few recipes from online with his own base instinct. He pours it in a mason jar to let cool and puts it in the fridge with a question mark written on a sticky note on top. Then he goes to the white board next. After his question has been posed, he takes the grocery list, another twenty magnetized next to it, and heads on out the door.

“I tried to make jam! Let me know how it tastes?”

–

“I may have gotten carried away, my apologies.”

“I didn’t even get to try any you scoundrel!”

“wow savage”

Well Patton surely didn’t mean to come home to the jar empty, finger scraped clean, and half of the loaf of bread gone. It’s a good thing he bought more fruit.

–

“Hope your classes go well today!”

–

School starts up and Patton is diligent in his classes. Business, Math, Home ec, Yoga because it’s good to breathe once in while. Enough to keep him busy. He’s begun making food in containers, easily portable to and from school for him and his housemates.

Sometimes he wonders if he’s seen them before on campus. It’s not a large campus but it surely isn’t the smallest. ‘R’ once said his theater was jealous of their food, do they do any of that at school? What about ‘L’ or ‘V’? Do they bring the food out? What if Patton sees them eating it in public? Wouldn’t that be a shock to them all.

Either way he works, focusing on what he needs and wants to do. Really he thinks of his housemates as his test group. Figuring out which of his dishes are better than others, which ones take work, which ones they ask for more often.

He collects all that, written down in his own notebook for future menu item ideas. He has no idea which kind of eatery he wants to run. He loves breakfast foods, but lunch is so yummy, and dinner makes him so warm inside, and desserts he has yet to master. But what can he do?

He worries his lip between his teeth, wondering if what he’s going to do is a good idea. He writes on the whiteboard and then hides in his room, not ready for the answers.

“I want to own my own restaurant. But I don’t know what kind. Any ideas maybe?”

–

“Apologies but I would have taken up the whole board so I am writing on the notepad. I firmly believe that regardless of what kind of restaurant you own, you will be exceptionally proficient in whatever you chose to excel in. That being said, what kind of food gives you the most satisfaction to make? Is there more worth in making one style of food over the other? Which one would make you more financially stable? Can you be happy making one style of food all your life or will you change eventually? These are important things to ask yourself when figuring out your path.”

“YES PLEASE DO THIS I LOVE YOU I DON’T KNOW HOW TO HELP BUT I WILL EAT THERE EVERYDAY TO MAKE SURE YOU STAY IN BUSINESS~”

“idk follow your heart dude your stuff is good”

–

Maybe Patton cries a little at their blind support, but no one has to know that. He takes a picture of their notes and pulls ‘L’s from the board to keep forever. In turn he draws a big heart on the board with no reservation what so ever.

–

“fuck math holy shit.”

“Are you having problems in your course of study?”

“Math is the bane of my existence and steals my soul like a demon at midnight~”

“numbers and shit”

“Aw math is difficult for me too kiddo”

–

“I apologize, it seems I have lost some self control again.”

“That was MY jar of jam thief of sweet!”

“sux 2 suc”

“I can make more!”

–

Glimpses of feet, of hair, of something not enough is all Patton gets and his heart aches to meet the people he’s considering friends. He wants to know so much. The notes tide him over, but how long until it’s not enough?

–

“I shall be out at rehearsals all weekend, coming home late~ Wish me luck~”

“Fracture a femur.”

“dude what”

“Dinner is in the fridge! Good Luck!”

–

“okay can you actually make pizza from scratch or are you bullshitting me”

“Language! Yes I can, it’s not that hard really!”

“It sounds like a very tedious process and one must be skilled to get it right I presume.”

“put pineapple on it”

“HEATHEN”

–

Patton’s day is, not going well. He almost missed a class, did not do well on his test, and certainly did not have time to prepare for the rush at work, which left both him and his bosses frustrated. Not at him they reassured, but Patton knows he could have done better.

He flops to the couch at home, sniffling softly. It’s not the worst of days yet it could have been so much better. He doesn’t care enough to muffle his sadness and falls asleep on the couch, too tired to move.

The next morning he wakes to the smell of eggs. He rubs his eyes, crusty from tears and sleep, and looks at the box in front of him. There are two things on it, a book on ‘Tricks of the Trade in Food Industry’ and a plate of messy scrambled eggs with a small note on it.

“i tried - v”

Patton pulls the blanket on his shoulders tighter, knowing for a fact the deep red blanket is not his and he certainly didn’t fall asleep with it, and carefully brings the plate to his lap. He can see bits of shredded cheese mixed in with some left over sausage he made the other day on the side. Maybe the eggs aren’t the best and the sausage is old, but Patton loves it more than words can handle.

“Thank you guys so much

–

“Thank you for the meal.”

“Lovely as the sun shining~”

“thanks”

–

“Did you make brownies darling?”

“Nope! Were there brownies in the fridge?”

“Well they were exquisite!”

“I saw them earlier but they did not posses the usual ‘feel free’ notice.”

“have fun in like an hour dude my friend made those green”

“I can hear colors and you all sound wonderful~”

–

“Whomever left their music going, I turned it off. I apologize for breaching privacy but it was starting to cause a headache.”

“sorry my b”

“That was your Disney playlist going? Have you been saved by the glory of goodness?”

“bruh”

“I want to watch movies now!”

–

It had been a risky move, one that Patton isn’t even too sure how it worked. The schedule whiteboard works well for all of them, a simple notice of who is going where without saying much. ‘L’ has been changing the dates, written in neat black marker and surprisingly, everyone else keeps up with writing their odd outings as well.

Patton had wanted this though and so he put on his free Sunday night ‘dinner?’ and then put little blue question marks on everyone else’s, so far free, Sunday night. He expected rejection just a little bit, but he comes home from work, to everyone writing their confirmation, and someone erasing his own question mark. That causes some butterflies.

It’ll be their first dinner together, it will be their first time together at all. Patton can hardly wait.

–

“What would you all like for dinner on Sunday!!!”

“Whatever you decide to make will be satisfactory for all of us.”

“I will love anything you can stir up love~”

“uh spaghetti?”

–

Patton is going all out Italian. There is pasta boiling, meatballs sizzling in a red sauce made from scratch. He even bought a wedge of parmesan to properly grate into shredded cheese. There’s a bowl already on the table of a classic ceaser salad with four places set and ready.

He dips a small spoon in the red sauce, taking a quick taste. He drops the spoon to the sink and adds a few more spices to the pan, stirring it all together once more. He has to make sure it’s right, just right. After all this time, he wants everything to be his very best.

He carefully slices a fresh loaf of bread to put on the tray, garlic bread a must for this endeavor. He’s melting butter in the microwave and adding spices to it. He’s in the middle of carefully mincing his garlic clove when the front door opens and Patton freezes.

“Oh it smells absolutely divine in here~” The person says. They lock eyes with Patton and somehow the dashing smile they wear grows even wider. Their hair is wavy and tousled and there’s a dimple high on their cheek. They stand tall in a red and white jacket and Patton is too excited to meet them to breathe.

Luckily they close the door and put their bag on the couch. They come right back to Patton and hold out their hand. Naturally going for a handshake Patton takes it and is wonderfully delighted when his roommate turns his hand and kisses the back of it, complete with bow at the waist.

“It is simply an honor, my personal chef, to finally meet you~” And Patton, well he can’t help the stream of giggles that burst out of him. He covers his face with one hand and tries to say thank you or hi or anything really. He can’t though and frankly, his roommate looks smug about that.

“Oh to hadestown with it!” They say suddenly and Patton is wrapped in a hug that lifts him off the ground and twirls him about. Oh if he thought he was dizzy with happiness before, this certainly makes it worse and better all at once. He’s laughing loudly now and he’s sure his face is flushed dark when he’s finally put down.

“My name is Roman,” They introduces themselves. Patton smiles so wide his face hurts.

“Patton,” He’s breathless. Something beeps and Patton hops so fast out of Roman’s hug he actually feels the loss for a moment. His focus is now razor sharp, cutting the garlic again and mixing it with his butter and spice.

“Do you require assistance?”

“Nope!” Patton pops the ‘p’ and continues on. He spreads the garlic butter on the bread and pops it in the oven carefully setting a timer for barely a minute long. The red sauce is tried again and satisfied with the flavor, Patton picks it from the stove to place on a trivet to the side. He tests his noodles by picking one out with a fork to nibble.

That too he pulls from the stove and strains. Once the water is gone he replaces the noodles and drops a decent portion of butter in the middle of the noodles. He lets it melt slowly as the oven beeps and he pulls out the tray of garlic bread. The smell wafts through the house and someone whines hungrily. 

“You can start on the salad if you’re-” Patton finally looks up, not realizing that two people are now watching him, both already with plates of salad in their hands.

“Beat you to it puffball~” Roman winks and shoves another bite in his mouth, making it crunch decidedly. The other person eats more carefully, adjusting their glasses every so often. They wear a black long sleeve and a tie.

“Salutations, it is nice to be able to formally introduce myself. I am Logan,” They say. Patton lets out a happy sigh.

“I’m Patton.” The edges of Logan’s mouth twitch up in an almost smile before they hide it in their salad. Patton goes back to his work. He slowly mixes in the melted butter to make the pasta shine. He sprinkles some of his freshly grated cheese on the bread and pops it back in the oven for just one more minute. The meatball skillet is brought to the table and then follows with his pasta pot.

“I am sooo hungry, I skipped lunch to make sure I was extra prepared for this,” Roman says as he takes a seat at the table. Sometime during their stay, four mismatched chairs appeared. Patton never questioned it and right now it seems fitting.

“That is an unwise decision,” Logan remarks and sits down at the table as well. Patton laughs and makes sure all the appliances are turned far off. The garlic bread is stacked on a plate and brought over to the table along with the plate of grated cheese. Patton looks at his work and can’t help but feel proud and so elated that he’ll finally be able to see to the people he’s been feeding for almost half a year eat his food in person.

“So worth it~” Roman manages to say around another too big a mouthful of salad. Patton snickers and Logan rolls his eyes, there’s a small smile on his face so it’s okay. Roman reaches for the pasta ladle when Logan speaks up.

“Aren’t we currently missing someone?” The question gives them all pause and Patton glances over to the hallway leading to his door and the other’s. Patton bites his lip.

“We have to wait for them,” He mutters out determined to have them all there. Logan folds his hands and though pouty and hungry, Roman leans back away from the ladle. Good thing it doesn’t take too long.

They all perk up when the bedroom door opens and closes softly. A head peeks around the corner and looks visibly shocked to see them all there.

“Oh okay shit fuck we’re doing this okay,” They take a deep breath and come around the corner. Their hoodie is ripped and sewn back together, a mess of purple and back. Patton can’t stop his smile.

“I’m uh.. V,” They say and give an awkward two finger salute. Patton beams as they all introduce themselves one last before sitting down.

“Thank god,” Roman breathes out and immediately drops a hefty portion of pasta on his plate that could really be considered ‘too much’.

“Roman!” Patton squeals out. Roman just flashes him a smile.

“Food coma or not, it shall be worth it,” He teases and plops meatballs on his plate too.

“I’m such a slut for garlic bread,” V takes three pieces and uses the spoon to put red sauce on them, along with more cheese and then tops it with spaghetti, making a weird pasta pizza. Logan takes his time, getting an almost measured ratio of pasta to meatball to sauce to cheese. Patton can’t wait to hear their thoughts.

It takes a minute or so, watching with baited breath as they all finally start to eat. Patton has yet to put food on his plate, much more eager and interested in them. Roman breaks first with a loud over done groan.

“I’m in heaven,” He says somehow with a face full of pasta. Patton feels like he’s glowing.

“Like I said before, it is satisfactory to the highest degree,” Logan comments as well, carefully putting each bite in his mouth to not spill.

“If I wasn’t already gay for food, this would turn me,” V raises one of his bread pieces in a ‘cheers’ like motion, then ceremoniously shoves the largest bite he can into his mouth to the point he can barely chew. It causes Roman to nearly spit up his own food and Logan just puts his hand to his head.

And to Patton it’s everything he could have hoped for and more. He finally gets a plate of his own food, happily eating his own meal with the others around him.

“So this is like a new regular thing right? We can round table pick the dish and have it every Sunday?” Roman is leaning back in his chair, hands on his belly and a dazed smile on his face. V, who is very much in a similar position shrugs. Logan who paced himself and ate a proper amount, wipes his face with a napkin.

“I shall not be opposed to Sunday dinners if that is what is preferred.” Then three pairs of eyes on him and Patton blinks back.

“Is that okay?” Roman asks.

“We do not wish to impose of course,” Logan adds.

“No pressure,” V mumbles to him as well.

Patton can feel the smile spreading across his face into one in full bloom. They want him to keep cooking for them.

“I would love that,” He says and the already easy atmosphere around them grows more loving. It cuddles them all close and Patton, who once didn’t even properly know his roommates names, feels closer to them more than ever.

–

I really liked this au, wouldn’t mind writing more for it if anyone has like, a scene they want to see or something

[gemini-system]

If you're a friend or a mutual that cares, please read if you like. Sorry it's a novel long..

TLDR: I have a split personality disorder. Please accept me for who I am. (Though I would really appreciate you reading this)

There's a lot about my battle with mental health that I never told a single soul, despite being an open book pretty much all of the time. There were things even I never told anyone about, or maybe only hinted at, because I either had no name for them and could not explain that, or just plain fear not a single person would believe me, or think that I just wanted attention.

A couple months ago, I met my current boyfriend, and upon opening up cautiously for the second time about these issues, was finally given a name for them, and what I could do to make life easier living with them, and it changed everything. I was originally gonna just drop an explanation in my friends group chat since I haven't talked to them in a long time and wanted to give a life update, but dropping it all just felt like kind of a lot and I still have the anxiety that they won't believe me. So I'm talking here instead (I'll probably link this to them) But I just have to let it all out, and this is my only non-streaming centric account that is not linked back to on any of my videos, so I feel like I can dump it here.

To brass tax:

Starting at the end of middle school, I started developing symptoms of a sister illness to DID (multiple personality disorder). This sister illness is little known about and while it doesn't have a concrete name, some call it Division. Division is when, due to trauma, a set of bottled up emotions, ideas, and anxieties form into a split personality with it's own identity and can manifest in various ways, pretty similar to DID. The thing is with these illnesses, since everyone who has them experiences them differently in their own way, it's hard to know EXACT symptoms. And that, coupled with the fact all my google searches bring up nothing about it, is why I have always feared no one will believe me.

"Why Division? Why not just say you have DID?" I was told, in order to have DID, there must be two separate and distinct personalities from the host. And so I would not qualify because I have only one separate personality. If I am wrong about this, I have no issue with you sending me a polite ask about it, as it would be a lot easier to just say "I have DID" and tell ppl to do their own google search lol.

Fair enough, so why do I have all this anxiety my loved ones won't believe me?

Here is the part where it might get a little cringey to some, but I am an artist and writer, and all my life, art has been the way I express all my feelings and vent things without having to state them outright.

I had always feared being a bad person. From the trauma of the CSA I endured for 2 years, from gaslighting, to my father verbally abusing and threatening me and my mother with physical violence from a young age, I feared being a bad person more than anything else.

Every time I got angry, or talked back, or even just tried to stand up for myself, I feared I was or would become a bad person, and I thought to myself that I just needed to take all of those things I deemed bad, and put them into something or someone else so that I would no longer fear being a bad person. This other thing could be bad so I wouldn't have to "risk hurting people I loved" I had no idea what 'splitting' was or that I was even doing it. And that personality began to form.

As I began to draw more often, my symptoms surfaced simultaneously. "Hearing" thoughts in my head that weren't mine (not really hearing but it's hard to explain), horrible intrusive visions and thoughts, and then finally a little ways down the line swapping with eachother time to time, and another occurrence I call "snapping" where I swap suddenly out of anger or distress and lash out at others or have some kind of meltdown. I learned how to fight and control the swapping, I tried with all my might to make sure no one ever found out I was "crazy". Even my therapists. As for snapping, I couldn't control it, so he mostly came out that way.

I needed to vent through art somehow or I was going to explode. He had named himself, and told me what he looked like, and so I basically started a game of 4D fucking chess and told everyone "this is my new OC haha" and started from there, deciding to take a fan comic I was making, and rework it to put him at the center and make it original. I figured toting him as just a character I created that was important to me was easier than trying to explain or possibly have to prove to people that I had a split personality who was very real, with his own identity. I thought maybe I cold vent without people thinking I was crazy or some kind of special snowflake. 

Looking back it's kind of funny because a lot of my venting was pretty on the nose with hints all over, so I'm surprised if at least one person didn't pick up on it lol. At one time during a breakdown, I even tried to explain that "Jet is mean and starting to scare me" and then realized my friends confusion as they reassured me he was a fictional character I made up. Which totally wasn't their fault because I totally dug that hole myself. I just felt a compulsive need to hide everything I was really going through.

For those who know about the character Jet, you may be a bit concerned because he is written to be a serial killer, but from years of writing development, Let me tell you, he is very overwritten and the Jet from the story is pretty different now from the "real" Jet in my head. If he wanted to actually end someone he would have done it by now and landed my ass in prison. He's mostly just a bully and goblin.

This post is already years long, so I won't bore you with our life story, especially if you think I'm making it all up. So here's my conclusion.

I hope you believe me, and accept me for who I am. This is the full and honest truth, and is a huge part of me that I just don't want to hide anymore. I want to be able to talk about my experience without sugar coating and leaving out information. I like being an open book, and this secret has been killing me. It took a lot of courage to type this all out to the world. I wouldn't mind telling you about our life together, what he's really like, and all the things I've learned from this strange, stressful, and sometimes wonderful journey.

If you don't believe me, that's fine. You can call me a liar, or say I'm delusional, or leave me. I'll never talk about it to you again, and I can just keep hiding it around you. I truly hope you realize that this is my truth.

Thank you for your time.

[kanene-yaaay]

Patton has a secret ~

Kanene’s note: *read the speech I decide to write here* Hmm...

Caham.

*Throw away the paper* Is just a lot of fluff. Like... just fluff. No drama, no angst, no action, no adventure, maybe fiction, but a lot of fluff. :v

... I should try to write others genres... xDD

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* Lee!Patton and Ler!Roman/Ler!Virgil (Just a itsy bitsy of Lee!Virgil and Lee!Roman).

* Hmmm… This is a Tickle-Fanfic! If you don’t like this kind of stuff, please look for another blog, there are plenty of amazing art in this site!! ‘u’).

* Something around 3500 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* My first Sanders Sides Tickle Fic finally translated!!! Yayyyyyyy!!! \0\ /0/ \0/ *jazz glitter hands*

* Here the fanfic in Portuguese (brazilian’s one!) ! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Watch a fun video and drink hot chocolate water! Byeioo!~

                                  [~*~]

In fact, with how times Patton took care of the other three (and sometimes, five) members of the Mental Palace it could almost be seen as a hobby, a piece of his routine even. But he just could not help or stop himself from doing something when he knows to have in his own hands a world of possibilities for lighten up their, rainy or not, days and paint in their faces a smile, even when it was a light embarrassed one. This was a little something that worked as if he was brighten his own days.

And that reason was what it was so… strange to watch them turning the table.

In the days very after the conversation they had, followed by his room visit (think about that still giving bittersweet shivers down his spine), at least one time and for a few minutes in the day, all the spotlights switched to the quartet’s cat lover.

Just as this morning, when he was woken up by a battalion of cuteness and love consisted by fifteen puppies summoned and carefully deposited in his bed by Roman, who doesn’t waited much to yell an order to “ATAAAAAAAAACK!”. Leading an awake from an extremely confused Patton, which was immediately subdued by licks and small barks doesn’t taking long to rip out happy giggles and squeal from the one who wore cardigan.

Or, even like those random moments in the day when no one is around and Virgil feels absolutely comfortable to wrap him up in a calm, filled with more signification which words could archive, hug. That time when Patton controls himself to not squeak (too much) loud, especially on those others pieces of time when the aspect of Fight or Flight eventually ended up changing to canals with Patton’s favorites cartoons, claiming between (fake) annoyed murmurs that “There isn’t anything better on TV.”

And also, there was Logan. Oh, Lo… Maybe never before, except celebrations, had Patton received so many gifts. They went from interesting books to soothing songs playing in his room’s background, expressing all those feelings that so much confused the duo with the same glasses. Morality liked this approach equally. Most of the songs sang that everything would be okay.

In the end, even if all of it were… different, new, Patton couldn’t deny that loved every second of it.

And maybe it was for all these pampering, however he started to feel a bit freer to demonstrate a little more of him, little by little… For that reason (or maybe feeling?) that some days after all the new occurrences he found himself asking Roman to summon him a tablet. Sure, he summoned one by himself, albeit Roman’s conjurations have always been the ones that spilled the most amount and shiny details, creativity, wonderfully, coloring in the Mind Palace.

This was some weeks ago. Some fast, full of giggles and blush weeks since his very newest discovery on internet. May or may not the only one to blame for his full-sleep nights shrank in order to increase his searching time.

“Tickly Community”

Just thinking on these words already unleashed warm waves through all over his face as involuntary as his began of smile and that soft and cozy sensation intertwining his heart.

Tickles, he squirmed quickly, one of the purest and simplest way to show someone trust and affection. A normal activity to improve bonding, which some disliked and others loved.

And Patton knew very well in which group he was.

It was kind of an addiction, or even a fellow, as he preferred to imagine. Making itself present not only when he turned on the electronic device, but in any and every time of the day. It seemed like a little angel with cat ears and cute voice who liked to appear from absolutely nowhere to say how much every activity in the day would be incredibly better just adding a few pokes, squeezes and sweet, uncontrollable laughter here and there.

And don’t even get him started with the movies, cartoons and series, which, unfairly, insisted in dropping one (sometimes more) tickle scene when he was the least prepared as he could be. Patton swore that in these moments he lost all the control on his body: he always felt being ‘too much smiley’ (even when he brain ordered him to stay serious… Well, he always was more a heart guy than mind one, anyway), ‘too much agitated’, looking at the movie ‘too much’ and always ending up in a mental battle, posteriorly, to choose which one was his favorite (spoiler alert: He always picked all and re-watched them.)

His fingers typed the URL he already knew by heart, snuggling further on the couch as the links appeared in his face. The one in cardigan (since his onisie was washing) loved reading stories gravitated around this subject. The descriptions made imaginary fingers dance in each one of his tickle spots… or at least that ones he suppose that were his spots. It had been few years since activities like that didn’t happened with Thomas or in the Mind Palace, so the freckled side didn’t knew if he stilled susceptible as used to be. Uurg. Think about this made him sad, so, the moral side decided focus on the arts in the art ahead.

Maybe hours or minutes have passed. He couldn’t say, however he could confirm that watched something around three absolutely adorable tickle videos and was in his fifth story whe-

- OH PATTON, MY PATTON – The high pinch scream together with the little jump gave by the called as answer seemed to amuse the prince, his stunning smile increasing. – What are you watchin’? – He let himself fall in the furniture’s arm, close from where Patton’s head rested, leading to the other automatically turn off the tablet in a hurry.

- Oh, nothing, nothing. – The group’s father waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. – Just some new cakes recipes! Thomas overbought Crofter’s and I’m not fire, but I want to help burn the stock! – Both giggled.

- You looked very happy. – Virgil couldn’t stop himself from the grin growing in his face, proud when the representation of morality released his second scream in such a short time, seeing as he truly didn’t notice the second which the purple lover laid in the other corner of the couch. His eyes shined as he saw red spreading across Patton’s cheeks.

 “The world goes round.”

 - W-when d-did you- for a heartbeat of moment he shuffles in his own words, stumbling in the letters and almost losing himself, taking a second to his face stabilized in a smile and the words stopped falling out his mouth. A bothersome sensation showed in the stomach of the other two sides, realizing how much trained and good at controlling his feelings and expressions he was. Maybe they saw a little of themselves in the act. – You know how much I love appreciate this little things. – Smile.

- Ho ho!! – The resounding laughter from the royal side made itself present as he approached even close to Morality, ignoring any and every signification of ‘Personal Space’. – It sees that nuestro padre is hiding something. ~

Maybe it was the Lee Mood attacking, maybe it was for how that specific phrase had sounded immensely with thousands of the dialogues he had read and which still spinning around his mind; It could even be the playful way they were going. However, Patton could only continue giggling and squirming in attempts to dodge from Roman’s efforts to take the device in his hands, being pretty good at it, something that definitely annoyed the Creativity’s aspect, causing him to let out a exasperated snort.

- Any help, Stormcould?

- I thought princes were ‘self-sufficient’. – He made quotes with his fingers, probably a reference to some fight of them.

- Wha… And we are! Even more when people like you force us to do all the work! Come on, you want to see this too! Another hand here would be nice!

- Tch. Can’t. – Virgil clicked his tongue, irony pouring out his lips as he raised his hands. – I only have mine.

The angry expression from the prince comically mixed up with the euphoric Patton’s squeal, who jumped to a sitting position, moving with more facility closer to the one wearing a hoodie.

- Was that a pun?? – His eyes seemed like could bright the starts by the way they were shining. Virgil’s eyes widened, hiding in the hood while mumbled a ‘no’, half-annoyed, half-awkward and half-happy for be the one who put that smile in the other’s face.

- Ah há!! – The victorious expression quickly took place in Roman’s face as he got the tablet. – Great distraction, my gothic subject!

He clicked the ‘Turn on’ button.

- No! Wait!! – His voice possibly raised a little bit than normal, ora little shakier, or even desperate. Patton stretched quickly, seeking to retrieve the object. He didn’t really know how to explain the suddenly panic. He always dreamed in telling this secret to the others, but… Now this possibility was too… real. He was afraid, afraid that they found it weird, didn’t liked it, felt forced in some way or didn’t really understand his liking and interpret it wrong and… In just that millisecond, Patton feared about all of it and something else at the same time.

The duo looked alarmed, and this made he doubt the reason of his fear. They were his adorable kids, his famILY with eccentric likes just as him. His sons who took care of him. He felt silly, but it didn’t change the glares in his direction.

- Roman… - A light threatening started to take strength in Virgil’s tune.

-  Sure! Here you go, padre. – With a big flourish, he handed over the tablet. An apologetic smile in his features, a slightly deeper look in his glare. – I hope you to know that I was just messing with you! There is no greater honor than keep safe our secrets! - Winked, getting up, a hand resting in the chest while the other one gestured in a non-stop rhythm. – And, if is a matter of honor you can count on me to give my life into order to protect and safeguard it! – He bowed, holding Patton’s hand and kissing it, instantly dissolving the fear in the said aspect in an excited smile.

- Oh! Let me give back your kiss, then! – The moral side pulled from his pocket a Kisses’ candy bag, tossing it at Roman, who reflexively grabbed.

- Do you… Do you really have those on the pockets just for the dad joke?? – Virgil asked giving the question up as soon he saw Patton rolling his eyes, biting excitedly his tongue’s tip while shrugging.

- … No?

- They are really good! – The prince exclaimed, his voice muffled by the dozens candies he had put in his mouth and now was trying to chew. Patton felt a hand delicately hold his shoulder.

- You know we never would force you to share something you are not comfortable, right?

- Of course I do, kiddo. – The heart’s representation soothed his smile, deflecting his gaze to his lap, where the tablet calmly rested. The way both acted… so sweet and adorable…

He didn’t even knew of what he was afraid at the first place.

- But…no. – His words come out before anything stopped them. – I want to tell.

This automatically caught their attention, interest sparkling on their expressions. Sure that they were the most comprehensible as possible with the paternal aspect, however this didn’t change the flame of curiosity created by the situation in their minds, which was inflamed even more right now. Patton turned on the device.

- It’s a really silly thing… - Virgil lightly squeeze his shoulders in an encouraging way. Roman moved a little more closely and was gifted with the tablet, now unblock, being deposited on his hands. The words floated from Patton’s lips before his brain or fear could do something to stop them. – But I like tickling!

His speech come out fast and low, he raised up his eyes for a second before lowering them at equal speed and started to play with the cardigan’s tip between his fingers. Patton was a person of a lot of expressions and gestures and hops and joy, albeit this time he was just quiet, slightly embarrassed as the blush on his ears could say.

And happy. A relieved happiness for don’t need to hide anything anymore.

- Patton. – The one with glasses looked up, just to find Virgil struggling with a grin until he gave up on the battle, letting it take over his face. Patton lighted up with expectantly, feeling like he had putted a piece of his soul in the two aspects’ hands and asked ‘So…?’ – This is… - He shook almost imperceptibly his head, his voice took a softer tune, his smile gave away to a serious face. – There is no problem in liking this you know that, right? We will not going to judge you. – Virgil bitted a little his lip, the grin coming back. – To be honest this is…

- ADORABLE!! – Patton was thrown on the couch. Roman having jumped in him, his smile was stunning and his eyes twinkling dangerously. – ABSOLUTELY, INCREDIBLY, ADORABLY ADORABLE!

The cats lover just could giggle, ignoring the heat in his face growing up more and more as he spoke a couple of dad jokes. Virgil’s head appeared besides the prince’s shoulder, almost hided by it. He deposited the tablet on the coffee table, a dishonest smile shining as a sign warning dangerous. Patton felt a mix of anxiety and anticipation transforms to little butterflies in his stomach.

- Yes. Extremely cute.

He felt amazing.

- Oh, kiddos, it’s because of your influence! – Refuted. Half smile, half truth.

The dangerous spark in the pair of eyes seemed to sprawl even more as they stared him. Roman experimented to wriggle his fingers on his direction. Patton squirmed, a new wave of small, bouncing laughs escaping from his lips.

- It seems like our padre is full of giggles. ~ - He pretend to attack a couple of times, delighting himself with the squeaks and bubbling snorts that came as answers from the Morality’s representation.

A different squeal came out from Patton’s mouth, making the prince turn around just to see Virgil lightly tracing a finger in the other’s foot. There was a grin in his features. – I ask myself where they come from…

- V-virgihihihihil, deheheheheheahahar! Nahahahaha!

- I also question the same thing, my nebulous friend, BUT, not to worry! I bet the entire fabric is right here! - Patton followed Roman’s hands, which spin in some flourishes before reach his sides, light scratching they and leading another yelp to pour out from the cat lover, who could swear that he would melt with all the teasing.

- Ro, oh Ro! Pleheheheheheheheheheheasehehehehe! Roho, no teahahahahahasing!

- Don’t worry, padre! I shall help you with this awful case of endless cute laugh! – He squeezed his sides just some more times, increasing Patton’s struggling before lift his dancing fingers. -  The cure should somewhere around… - He started to move his fingers, quickly spidering up and down in all his ribs. Patton’s hands shouted to hold him, but he easily dodge them, taking the opportunity to give some special attention to the victim’s armpits. – Here!!

And then, when his laugh, real belly laugh, started to fill the air, it was only then when Patton began to realize that this wasn’t a dream. The joyful filled him almost as quickly as Roman scribble his fingers along his sides, raising to his upper ribs and staying there with softs circular motions, appreciating the snorts that interconnected the laughter from the other. Before he got tired and goes down, squeezing and poking every piece of ticklish skin he could research with the shirt raising a few inches from Patton’s fight.

- RO-ROHOHOH! NAHAhahaHAHA! P-pleAHAHAHAHAhahahaseHEHEHEheeee!!

-Oh, my my! It seems like someone can’t even form phrases without being an adorable mess of giggles and squeals!

Meanwhile, Virgil calmly danced his fingertips through the foot of the one in cardigan, tracing illogic standards, scratching his arc, suddenly increasing the speed (and, consequently, the laugh, yelps and snort stream from the moral side) as found the toes. It looks that don’t be visible to Patton’s eyes just made him incredible more ticklish.

- VIR-HIHIHIHIHIGIL!! nahahaHAHAHAHAHA THEre!! Virhihihihihgil – The purple one thought he couldn’t like even more of his name until hear that variation. His heart was melting with all the adorableness. Why didn’t they discovered that before?

- Yes, Patton? Can you repeat? I couldn’t understand with all your laugh!

- Who is the cutest and ticklish side in the Mind Palace? – Roman switched to his tummy, poking and scrabbling, fingers paying attention in every minimum inch achievable and analyzing which one gave the best reactions. Patton struggled, the belly laughter shaking his entire body as getting out. His arms hugged his sides in an attempt to not to stop the tickles. His face burned and the happiness were assuming shape of tears as they accumulated in his eyes’ corner, his smile seemed truly goes to an ear from another, lighting up the entire room. – You know who are, huh, my dear and adorable Patton? – Each world was a scribble in his navel.

- YOHOHOHOHOHOHOU TWOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! NHAHAHAHA!

- Wrong answer. ~ - Virgil refuted, and almost synchronized both attackers started to blow raspberries in his foot and belly. His laughter went silent for a moment.

- RO! VI! NAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA! ITHIHIHIHIHIHIHIS ME! MEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE! PleAHAHAHAHASEHEHE! NAHAHAhahhahahaha!

- I feel like he want to tell us something. – The representation of fear calmly commented as his fingers taking turns between squeeze knees and tights wasn’t leading the Morality to squeal, crackle, yelp and giggle almost at the same time, in a madness which the three loved. – But I just can’t get it, you know?

Patton thought he really, really know, the mean of ‘unbearable’, until Roman went, this time for real, to his armpits and Virgil reallocated himself to rest his thumbs on his waist.

And they attacked.

- NononononoNO! WahahahAHAHAHAHAHAIT!

He didn’t remembered if he screamed, or talked or even had some coherence. Suddenly all his muscles began to struggle and his laughter were faster, real and stronger than ever, among them also came shrieks, snorts and squeals until completely disappear. His thoughts were a mess. His eyes opened from time to time to take glimpses of Roman and Virgil’s affectionate smiles towards him. Tears flowed down his cheeks as joy materialized, a stunning joy, that one which made his head go side to side, up and down and a smile bigger than the Sun open in his face.

- STO-STOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOOHOHOHOHO-

They got the message, since in any moment before the father aspect got even closer to ask them to cease the attack, and quickly moved away. However, the duo could not stop themselves to appreciate the puddle of reminiscent giggles who was Patton, who now melted in the couch, letting the last laughter end. Wiped the tears and stared Roman and Virgil with the gratitude and happiness so easily to read in his face that made both aspects blush with the intensity, leading the purple lover hide in his hood and the prince smile more.

The moral side jumped, crushing them in a tight, sincere, and kind of clumsy hug due all them be sitting and with many words between the lines.

- Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!!– His words comes out as fast as a machine gun, how he had breath for it even after all the tickling, no one really knew.

- You’re welcome, Padre! – Creativity’s representation lightly poked his sides, making him jump. – But be aware that your actions awaked up two insatiable tickle monsters!

Virgil just rolled his eyes. Patton released a fast giggle as answer, and for some reason, the purple felt all his ‘Fight or Flight’ instincts be activated. He squirmed a little in the hug, but the grip didn’t ease. The Morality’s voice came out a bit lower than the normal, but equally comprehensible.

- Oh, no, Roman… - It was like a purr from a feline before the attack. – You were the ones who did.

Logan left his room, having had a very satisfactory reading morning. Automatically screams and laughter entered in his ear field, his eyes lightly widened and he followed the sound, going to the Living Room just to find Roman and Virgil on the floor, Patton between them, his hands tickling both without mercy, leading the melodious sound (he had to admit) which were flying from their lips.

- Who are the two sides with shining and wonderful laughter who the tickle monster love to tickle tickle tickle tickle? – His tune was as a father talking with two babies. – They are you! Yesh yesh! Are you you you!

Logan pondered the situation. Patton was a reasonable person who loved everyone, so he more than possible would stop when realize they have had enough. Not to mention that he didn’t wanted take the risk to being pulled into the game or embarrassing the participants. Especially the one with hoodie, who still gradually getting used with the affection of the famILY and the prince, who sometimes let himself think that he needed to show himself the stronger and flawless figure that the ‘royalty must be’.

Realizing no real danger in the activity that his eyes analyzed, the logic aspect just stay long enough to decorate Virgil and Roman’s ticklish spots, since these could be a really future useful data, before backing to his room, suddenly remembering that there was another book on his shelf waiting for him.

[superpuppies]

Hobbit High

Chapter 2: The Story Lost

Fandom- The Hobbit

Characters- Ori X Dwalin, Bilbo X Thorin, Fili, Kili, Dori, Nori, Gandalf, Thlandral, Legolas

Rating- PG13

Word count- 3093

Archive Link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/10027448/chapters/57582619#workskin

Summary- Bilbo arrives at school in a panic unable to find the seconded story, once Bilbo informs Ori of the situation the two begin a frantic journey around the school in hopes of finding the missing papers. Fili and Kili corner our boys and have a little pounding session. Thorin and Dwalin help the shocked, shaken and bruised boy back to the Ri house for a little rest.

Hey all, here’s the newest from my mind, please keep in mind that I do have dyslexia and I really do try to fix all spelling mistakes but some will always slip through. If you spot some please let me know and I will do my best to correct it. Thank you.

Ori trudged along beside Nori, still trying to wake up, he had stayed up later then he usually would have reading Bilbo’s story after writing a bit himself.

Nori wrapped himself around his brother and sang. “Wakey, wakey.”

“Oh, come on Nori.” Ori halfheartedly pushed at his brother.

“What? You pretty much ran away when Dwalin’s dad showed up last night and you’ve been unusually quiet all morning not even an angry grumble.”

“That has nothing to do with you, dangling off me.” Ori’s eyes narrowed to emphasizes his sarcastic tone.

“I’m just worried about you.” Nori looked at Ori with comically wide, sad puppy dog eyes. After a moment Ori turned his eyes to the ground with a sigh.

“I’m just really tired.”

Bilbo rushed past them and into the school. “Where’s he running off to?” Nori asked raising an eyebrow.

“Must be something good, he completely ignored me when I said ‘good morning’.” Thorin said falling into step beside them.

“That’s just because it’s too early to be looking at your ugly mug.” Dwalin yawned coming up behind them.

“I’m so glad we’re friends.” Thorin smirked rolling his eyes.

“Well someone’s got to tell you how it is.” Dwalin shrugged and turned to Nori. “Why don’t you just climb onto Ori’s back and have him carry you, he practically is already.” Dwalin’s eyes narrowed.  Nori turned to Dwalin in a mock huff.

“Do you need to go back to bed too?” Dwalin just knitted his eye brows together in confusion. Nori stood up from leaning on Ori and pulled him tight to his chest. “What did you do to him? I could have sworn you’d left!”  Ori pulled himself out of Nori’s arms.

“Can you just not do this to me today?” Ori growled storming away.

“Grumpy!” Nori shouted after him.

 Ori found Bilbo digging almost franticly through his locker. “What are you doing?”

Bilbo stopped and looked up at Ori with worried eyes, he licked his lips before starting. “I, ugh, I can’t find it.”

“Find what?”

Bilbo stood. “The story you gave back yesterday.” Ori’s face fell. “I know I put it in my locker yesterday and then I thought I put it in my bag but then when I got home it wasn’t there. And now it’s not in my locker.” The bell rang and the hall burst into a frenzy. Bilbo closed his locker and headed for history a shocked silent Ori beside him and both boys an unnerving shade of pale.

As they sat Ori turned to Bilbo. “Did you check in all your books?” He asked quietly.

“Yes, I don’t know where it is.” Bilbo whined dropping his head onto his desk.

Ori groaned in disbelief as he lay across his own desk feeling crushed by the sudden added weight of this catastrophe.

As the day progressed their panic grew, at each class break they would check another spot that they thought of but still no sign of the story.

 Just before lunch Nori found the two boys snapping at each other in frustration but his head hurt too much to care why at the moment. Getting them to stop snapping at each other long enough to tell Ori that he was heading home because of his migraine was harder than it should have been and did nothing to help with his head. Ori just waved his brother away as he tried to think of another place to look.

 Ori and Bilbo met at Ori’s locker after their last class. “Maybe it fell out of my locker and the janitor threw it out.” Bilbo said hopeful.

Ori eyed his friend with disbelief as he gathered his bag. “Maybe” Ori said dryly. “You had violin lessons yesterday right?” Bilbo nodded not liking where Ori was going with this. “So we’ll swing by Mr. Théoden’s and see if you left anything behind.” Bilbo sighed as they started toward the door. Ori was feeling confident that his plan was a good one while Bilbo was still clinging to his janitor theory.

Kili Appeared around the hall corner behind Bilbo and Ori, an evil smirk on his face that didn’t match his soft tone. “Hey, Bilbo.” Bilbo jumped at the sound of Kili’s voice, then again as Ori let out a startled yelp. Fili reached out the door of empty class room two fourteen and pulled the red head into the room. Fili laughed as Ori tripped and stumbled to catch himself while Kili cornered Bilbo in the doorway and finally pushed the smaller boy into the room.

“Oh, Come on Fili, we just want to go home.” Ori whined straightening to standing.

“This won’t take long, Ori. We’ve been trying to talk to you guys all day but you’ve been avoiding us like we have the plague.” Both Fili and Kili put on false looks of hurt. Ori narrowed his eyes sensing danger as Bilbo tightened his grip on his bag strap.

“Why?” Ori’s suspicion tainted his voice.

“Well,” Fili began as he reached in to his back right pocket and pulled out the lost tale now folded in half. “We found something that belongs to you.” He snapped the papers flat. Ori and Bilbo’s faces fell in horror as their eyes locked on to the papers before them. “And we wanted to return it to you, well that was of course until we read it.” Bilbo let out an involuntary squeak just before he ran for the door, Kili clothes lined him just before he reached the door and he hit the ground hard. “I think, I’ll read you some of Kili’s and mine favorite parts.” Fili continued with a smile.

Ori stepped back from the twins, his eyes closing in horrified acceptance.

“No,” Bilbo begged his voice quieted from pain. “God no”

Kili knelt down and punched Bilbo in the ribs as his brother began to read.

“A shiver ran through Dwalin as he knelt before Ori. The red head simply watched with a small smile playing on his lips. ‘I apologies master’ Dwalin said dropping his eyes.  

‘As you should.’ Ori leaned toward Dwalin somewhat ominously. ‘But if you think a few simple words are going to make up for it, you are greatly mistaken.’

‘What can I do for you sir?’

‘You know full well what you need to do.’ Ori smirked leaning back in his chair. Dwalin nodded but kept his smile to himself, he took a pleasure he knew he wasn’t meant to from his punishments. Moving closer still on his knees he reached up to open Ori’s pants.”

“Stop” Bilbo sobbed hiding his face in his hands as Kili punched him in the chest again.

Ori sank to the floor his eyes shut tight as he tried to block out Fili’s voice, he didn’t like reading it and hearing it was much, much worse. “Oh god, please stop. Please.” Ori opened his eyes and looked up at Fili with pleading eyes. “Please Fili, that’s enough.”

“Enough!” Fili laughed darkly. Kili chuckled as well as he landed another blow onto Bilbo. “This is far from enough, Ori we haven’t even gotten to when Bilbo sticks his dick into Thorin. Or when you have Dwalin writhing beneath you.”

The tears started to roll down Ori’s cheeks despite his best effort to keep them in. “Please Fili, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Fili Jumped down from the desk he was sitting on and squatted down in front of Ori. “For what? Hmm? For being a sick fucking perv or for getting caught fantasizing about being a sick fucking perv with our cousin.”

“I don’t want your cousin. I didn’t” Ori started, Fili slapped him hard across the face.

“No, that’s right you like the strong quiet type. What do you think Dwalin would do if he knew, Ori? Do you think you would survive it? Hu?” Ori grabbed Fili’s shirt, His cheek swollen and pink from the slap shimmered with the still flowing tears.

“Oh God! Fili don’t tell him. Please don’t tell him! Don’t tell Dwalin. I’ll do anything, anything just don’t tell him. We didn’t mean it. We didn’t mean any harm.”

“You didn’t mean any harm?! You ruined both Dwalin and Thorin’s name.”

 Dwalin and Thorin walked down the quiet hall together in silence, it was strange being without Nori’s almost constant noise. Dwalin stopped for a moment and cocked his head to the side; he could have sworn he just heard his name.

“What are you doing?” Thorin asked coming to a stop a step past Dwalin.

“I thought I heard; there it is again.” Dwalin started down the hall once more.

“What?”

“My Name.”

 “Why would you ever think Thorin and Dwalin would waste their time with you!” Fili growled in Ori’s face as he and Kili landed another blow onto Ori and Bilbo respectively.  Fili was being smart about this, he knew better than to bruise up the face it would only attract unwanted attention over the next few days. Whereas body blows hurt more and were easier to hide, he had started latter on hitting Ori partly to punctuate some of what he was saying and partly because there was always the chance Nori would see something at home and get the truth out of Ori, where Bilbo did not present that problem.

Ori choked out a sob into his curled fist, he had his arms pulled tight up in front of his chest. His eyes closed while he tried to convince himself it would be alright. Fili and Kili would beat them up and then leave them alone and they would never have to go through this again, he hoped. Bilbo’s sobs had turned into gasping half spoken; half wrenched from his body pathetic please for the whole day to end causing Kili to laugh as he hit him.

 Dwalin stopped outside class two fourteen very confused, he could hear sobbing and pleading and then once again his name. He reached out and through open the door to find Fili and Kili perched over Ori and Bilbo. Fili and Kili froze, their attention snapping onto Dwalin at the sound of the door slamming into the wall. Dwalin’s mind reeled trying to understand what he was seeing. Bilbo was pinned under Kili sobbing for air while Ori seemed small and defeated in Fili’s grip as tears streamed down his face.  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Dwalin boomed fully entering the room, Thorin turned in behind him and immediately darkened at the sight.

“Fili! Kili! Get away from them, now!”

“But we’re just.” Kili started.

“You don’t know what they-” Fili tried to interject.

“Now!” Thorin growled. “Get the hell away from them and me before I kill you!” Fili and Kili glanced at each other briefly then stood. Fili tried to explain again as they wove their way between the two older boys.

“They-“

“GO!” Thorin barked and the twins disappeared down the hall.

Bilbo shifted into sitting and scooted closer to Ori while still trying to get the sobs under control. He was glad Kili was gone but completely horrified that Thorin was now there.

Ori scrubbed at his eyes trying to see what was going on but the tears just kept flowing, he thought he had heard Dwalin’s voice but that couldn’t be right.

Dwalin moved toward Ori but got distracted when he almost slipped on the story that Fili had dropped; reaching down he picked it up and began to read.

Thorin dropped down in front of Bilbo and reached out to try and assess the damage done. Bilbo flinched and pulled away curling closer to Ori with a whimper, Thorin tried again with slower more deliberate movements. “Bilbo, just let me” He tried to sound as soothing as he could.

“No!”  Bilbo shrieked and pushed Thorin’s hands away scurrying farther behind Ori. “Please, I promise I’ll stop. I’ll destroy them all.”

“Thorin.” Dwalin sounded odd in monotone as he continued to read the papers.

“Bilbo, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  Thorin said moving closer to Bilbo slowly.

“Thorin.” Dwalin said again.

“What, Dwalin. I’m trying to do something here.” Thorin turned to Dwalin sharply. Dwalin waved the story.

“It’s about us, us and them.”

“What? Who cares, they’re a mess can we deal with that first.” Thorin turned back to Bilbo with a huff. Dwalin looked down at Ori who seemed to be coming back to himself.

Ori placed his hands on the floor and pushed himself to standing. Dwalin reached out for Ori, who flinched and took off running. Dwalin took off after Ori stuffing the story into his back pocket.

Bilbo squeaked as he realized he was left alone with Thorin. Bilbo began a rattling constant stream of begging to be left alone and apologies that slowly turned into hyperventilation. Thorin sighed and cupped Bilbo’s face in his hands. “Bilbo, Look at me. I need you to calm down, it’s okay.”  This, of course did nothing to calm Bilbo down.

Thorin stared at the panic-stricken boy with his flushed cheeks and open panting pink lips. He was an entirely different kind of adorable that Thorin had never thought of before. Without meaning to Thorin leaned forward and kissed Bilbo, who after a moment went entirely still. Thorin smiled at the bewildered look on Bilbo’s face as he pulled away. “There that’s better.” He said wiping at the tear streaks on Bilbo’s cheeks.

Bilbo’s mouth moved trying to find his voice but all he could muster was a soft airy whisper. “You, you kissed me.”

“Yep.” Thorin smiled again. “Is that going to be a problem?”   Slowly Bilbo shook his head ‘no’, still disbelieving it had actually happened. “Want me to do it again?”

Bilbo’s cheeks flushed crimson and his chin dropped to his chest sliding his face from Thorin’s fingers. “Yes” he whispered.

“It’s kind of hard when you won’t look at me.” Thorin whispered into Bilbo’s ear.

Bilbo shivered but let Thorin tilt his chin up again. This was crazy, crazy how was this happening? Thorin let a smile play on his face as he leaned in for another kiss. Bilbo’s fingers tightened in his own jacket wanting to reach out for Thorin but frightened it would break whatever spell he was under. Thorin slid in closer and Bilbo breathed out a soft moan.

Thorin smiled and rested his forehead against Bilbo’s, “Better?” Bilbo nodded, eyes drifting across Thorin’s chest. “Good. Now, do you want to tell me what happened?” Bilbo shook his head tightening his grip on his jacket. Thorin gently rubbed Bilbo’s back. “Okay, maybe later.” He placed a reassuring kiss to Bilbo’s cheek.

 Ori was booking it down the hall; Dwalin was having a bit of a struggle to catch up. He wondered where Ori had been hiding this talent, he never ran this fast during gym, not that Dwalin was creepily watching Ori through his English class window every day or anything. Apparently the nerd could pull this out when he really wanted to. “Ori, Stop!” Dwalin called after him. “Holy shit! Come on, Ori. Stop.”

Ori slowed to take a corner and Dwalin saw his chance, pushing himself to go faster he lunged across the final distance and slammed into Ori’s right side. The two of them fell heavy on Ori’s left side onto the hard linoleum, tangled together in a heap, knocking the wind out of Ori.  It took Dwalin a moment to get himself untangled from Ori and then off of him but Ori paid little mind as he tried to suck as much air back into his lungs as humanly possible. Dwalin lifted Ori into something resembling sitting as best he could once Ori began to flail his arms and beg to be left alone as his breath came back to him. “Calm, Oww!”Ori’s wild flailing caught Dwalin right on the nose. “Calm down.” Dwalin caught Ori’s hands and pinned them to Ori’s chest. Dwalin loomed over the red head trying to get the smaller boy still and then hopefully calm. Ori wiggled attempting to get away from Dwalin’s daunting form.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I’ll get rid of them.”

“Ori, stop” Dwalin let go of one of Ori’s hands and covered his mouth. “and it’s not that important. Okay so just chill out for a second.” Ori finally looked up terrified, at Dwalin’s face and was surprised by the sincerity and concern in it also by the small trail of blood beginning to slide from Dwalin’s nose. “Jesus, Ori you’re a walking bruise.” Dwalin stood and helped Ori to his feet. “Sorry about tackling you. I just really needed you to stop.”

Ori opened his mouth to respond but Thorin cut him off as he and Bilbo approached. “Oh good you caught up to him.” Thorin had his left arm around Bilbo’s shoulders while his right held Bilbo’s, Ori’s and his own school bags. “Damn! Ori you can really move.” He handed Dwalin Ori’s bag. “It’s a good thing Coach Boromir didn’t see you move like that or he’d be hounding you to join the team.” Ori tensed up again at the idea. Dwalin glared at Thorin as he wrapped his arm around Ori’s shoulder and pulled him in close, Thorin just shrugged and mouthed ‘he would’ at him.

“He didn’t, Ori” Dwalin said quietly and felt Ori begin to relax again. “Now can we calmly walk you home? No running off or incoherent apologetic begging.” Ori simply nodded his eyes down cast. “Alright.” Dwalin pulled Ori’s bag strap across his chest as he turned the younger boy toward the door. Dwalin wiped the back of his free hand under his nose and smeared some of the blood on to his cheek as he got the majority of it off his face then wiped his hand on his jeans.

 The walk to the Ri house was extremely quiet, with Bilbo and Ori tucked under their respective ‘hero’s’ arm. The two younger boy’s cheeks blazed red the entire walk. Bilbo limped slightly on his right side as the bruises from Kili’s punches began to take a more defined shape. While Ori tried not to let his body show how much pain he was in, his entire chest was peppered in bruises and his left side stung immensely from Dwalin’s tackle, every breath he took hurt and made it difficult to take the next. Relief flooded Ori as they turned on to Smaug Way.

[homespork-review]

Homespork Act 1: The Note Dawdling Tension Plays (Part 2)

BRIGHT: The next bit of narration continues to establish John’s character: he has no idea what to call the red arm on the mailbox, and doesn’t care. We also learn that much like many teenagers, he doesn’t want to spend hours with his Dad. The author uses this opportunity to drop in a reference to the title.

The next page has a loading screen! I think this is the first interactive page in the comic. (For a certain value of interactive - you can mouseover the vertical lines of the games in the CD rack, and the cover of the game will pop up. Some of these link you to other works by Hussie.)

CHEL: Unfortunately, we then go into sylladex shenanigans AGAIN. Mercifully, this time it’s brief. We’ll let this one go, but I’ve got one eye on you, Huss.

TG messages John again, making reference to “TT”, who is confirmed female and alleged to be “mackin on” TG, and to his “bro” who “basically knows everything and is awesome”. How sincere he is in either of those remains to be seen. Finally, John actually gets told how to use his sylladex. Maybe the shenanigans will stop now… Anyway, he selects hammers for his strife specibus, or his weapon of choice, and the sylladex is confirmed able to hold things which would be too big to carry normally, such as Colonel Sassacre's Daunting Text of Magical Frivolity and Practical Japery, a book roughly as big as John is. At least the stupid sylladex actually has some practical use - I’m sure John’s as happy as I am to know that!

Next we see the review which put TG off; GameBro magazine explains “Why the ‘Game of the Year’ or whatever isn’t as good as some other stuff I like that’s better”. As it turns out once you get past the Totally Radical verbiage, the reviewer didn’t even play it. Something suspect’s definitely going on if it’s so hyped up on so little information… erm, is it just me or is the term “Brotel Rwanda” rather tacky? I don’t know if that’s worth a point, the point of the joke could be that the game reviewer is an idiot…

FAILURE ARTIST: I’d have that squarely as a point.

CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 1

CHEL: Okay, then, here’s our fourth count. Title is a reference to a line later in the comic, and I think the point of the count is pretty obvious. Mileage may vary, all works would get at least a couple points in this, and I don’t think it’s a big problem unless/until it starts to climb out of proportion. Not gonna use a WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM count because the reviewer, as seen in the pic, is supposed to be a white guy.

Regarding the rest of the review, I did consider whether this falls under the heading of HNTWAN’s “I, Youngster” (using slang or references from one’s own youth to write a contemporary younger person), but I’d say no, because it’s supposed to sound ridiculous. Same with John’s movies; his taste is supposed to be bad, I don’t think Hussie actually thinks kids in 2009 still all liked bad movies from before they were born. That, and Hussie’s word choices are frankly like nothing I’ve ever seen anywhere else in any time period.

We shall move on, as so is the comic. Forty-seven pages into the comic, the main character finally leaves his bedroom. Wow. Things are happening at breakneck speed here.

TIER: Truly the pace strides forward like a Colossus through Lilliput.

GET ON WITH IT!: 2

CHEL: Though the silly Groucho Marx disguise he puts on is cute.

BRIGHT: Of course, since it would be interesting to see what’s in the mailbox (or at least would move the plot along a bit), John spends the next few pages examining his home.

I’m torn about this. On the one hand, it does a bit more fleshing out of John and his home life, which is more interesting than endless sylladex shenanigans, and the narration is entertaining. On the other hand, I’m pretty sure that on my first read through I clicked through all of it, trying to get to something happening. It holds up better on the re-read to me.

Well, something does happen, John knocks over the urn containing his grandmother’s ashes and opens a box from his father which holds a full-sized harlequin doll. Again, how much this appeals depends on what you think of ‘loveable dork’ characters fumbling around.

Then we return briefly to John’s bedroom, where we meet the third character of this webcomic, tentacleTherapist, or the alluded-to TT. The conversation isn’t very long, but it does give a good sense of what TT is like.

CHEL: Specifically, prone to sarcasm and sesquipedalian loquaciousness. Also to inappropriate jokes. An invocation of the hentai trope "tentacle rape" (read her handle quickly) is a fairly uncomfortable username for a child to have.

CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 2

Anyway, it seems she knows John very well - she’s able to guess he’s wearing “one of your disguises” with no clue in his messages, so evidently he does this a lot. She’s probably the smartest character introduced so far, and she and John seem to have a good relationship.

Now, again, this was originally a reader-driven forum game, but when it was collated into a webcomic, it might have been better to have the conversation with TT moved to before John left the room, so we’re not going back and forth unnecessarily. One journey through the house is enough, I’d say. Another GET ON WITH IT point, or does this come under the heading of the second point still? I’ll be nice and not count it, since he was going back to fetch an item and not just randomly wandering.

We definitely get more points from the text in Colonel Sassacre’s joke book:

And what of that tawny gent who puts his lackadaisical lean near the sarsaparilla font? You’ll have that listless octoroon find the spring in his step just yet! CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 3 WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 2

The point of these lines is that the text is outdated and racist, not that it should be emulated, but the “outdated” point was more than got across by the language used already. And it would seem fairly weird for a person who wasn’t white to read a line like that and not comment on it - okay, maybe John’s read it before and is used to it, but the narrator ought to point that out if it had ever bothered him.

FAILURE ARTIST: Colonel Sassacre is basically Mark Twain with a party hat photoshopped on to him. Mark Twain’s most famous work, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, has gotten into trouble in recent years because of the name of one of the characters: [N-word] Jim. The novel is progressive for its time but it hasn’t aged well. I’m guessing Colonel Sassacre’s unnecessary racism is a nod to that controversy.

CHEL: Get used to Photoshopped depictions of real people, too.

BRIGHT: John ventures out into the house again, ostensibly to retrieve the game but really to stick his fake arms to the harlequin doll and nose around his father’s study. Should the comment about the peanut allergy count towards ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY? In context with the can of peanuts I think there’s meant to be a joke here…

There is also a CAN OF PEANUTS on the desk. Ha ha, oh DAD. You won't be falling for THAT one again any time soon. A severe peanut allergy is a terrible affliction to cope with.

CHEL: That line? Yeah, it's a reference to the snake nut can prank item - have you seen those on cartoons, where someone offers canned snacks and a spring-loaded toy snake pops out? A dark joke, sure, but my sense of humour tends to run that way and I loled. CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS instead, possibly? I don’t know if people with life-threatening allergies would be offended by this - the joke isn’t that they’re weak or stupid or anything, the joke is the play on the reader’s expectations. I wouldn’t mind it if I had a peanut allergy, but as I said, my sense of humour is pretty dark.

FAILURE ARTIST: I feel like if a certain other parent we meet later did that people would take it as abusive.

CHEL: My assumption was that John’s dad didn’t actually mean to give him food that would kill him, that was just an unfortunate way of finding out he was allergic, but in this comic, who the fuck knows?... Come to think of it, maybe he did mean to. Peanut allergies run in families and it’s established much later on that one of the relatives involved (it gets complicated) also has a deadly peanut allergy, so it would seem logical that Dad would also have one and thus wouldn’t have them around to eat himself. Even if he did, that’s a bad move with an allergic person in the house. Maybe it is worth an ARE YOU TRYING point, then? Maybe this is just overanalysing, but then overanalysing is the whole point of this exercise, so there it goes!

ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY?: 1

For clarification of the listed counts, this isn’t going under CALL CPA PLEASE because that one’s for when the kids do something disturbing themselves. We’ll show you what we mean when it comes up. We'll be nice and let Rose have an inappropriate username, that's not out of the ordinary for kids that age.

And speaking of said points, what about Dad giving John at least four birthday cakes? (He has two untouched ones in his room at the point he says he’s been eating cake all day, and Dad soon tries to give him yet another one.) That sounds cool from a thirteen-year-old’s point of view, but it kinda comes across as if Dad’s trying to feed him to death, and intentionally making kids horribly unhealthy can be a form of abuse. Or possibly to make up for something awful he knows about… Is the latter further evidence for the “guardians know about what’s coming” theory? Dad’s coddling John because he knows horrible things are going to happen? Hell, were the peanuts an attempted mercy kill, if we wanna get really tinfoil hat about it?

All that’s for later, though. Meantime, we get our first page with sound, as John plays “Showtime”, a nifty little piano tune.

"Homestuck // Showtime (Piano Refrain) // Piano" (Watch on YouTube)

The other kids get their own individual little musical parts too, later on, which merge to form one full piece.

FAILURE ARTIST: Music is a big draw in Homestuck. Not just these four main characters but pretty much every character has their own leitmotif.