#sonic really makes me happy it’s wild how I’d be deep in my feelings only to be like /omfg a blue rat!!/

[powpowchaos]

Sometimes it be like that

[sonicringbond]

Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey - Scene 47

Well, I’m going to keep this intro short today. There isn’t really a lot of ways I can set up leading into today’s scene. So, please jump straight into...

    “Hee-hee! It’s really you!” Rosy giggled and could not keep herself still. She fidgeted all about and her tail was wagging with more energy than usual. Then, in an explosion of joy she flung herself at who she was speaking with. “TAILS!”

    “Ha-ha!” Tails laughed and struggled to keep himself balanced as Rosy embraced him in a huge diving hug. “It’s good to see you too Rosy! Woah!”

    Spun about by the force of Rosy’s embrace, Tails put his namesake twin tails to use and flew up with Rosy joyously hanging on to him. The sight was almost too much for Draw and Blister.

    “My, he’s an interesting one, isn’t he?”

    “Is he… I mean… how exactly…,” Draw stammered in comparison to Blister’s smooth handling of her surprise. Though that could have been partly due to her being a pirate and a merchant, or just the deliberate and sleepy sounding way she spoke.

    To calm Draw down, Sonic gently rapped his knuckles against his head. Clutching his head, the koala angrily turned onto Sonic. “What was that for!”

    “Just lending a hand,” Sonic laughed as he really did mean Draw no harm. As Draw was blunter than Blister and was not familiar with Tails like Mighty and Gill, Sonic did have to take a moment to be a little more serious. “And you can help him out by not making a fuss about them. Until you’re used to them enough to consider them normal, and by then you shouldn’t have a reason to.”

    “I get it, just don’t hit me!” Draw complained, even though he knew Sonic meant him no harm. Still, he had to get the last word in. And Sonic let him, though his smug smile told Draw it was not his victory. There was no time to keep at it though as everyone fully disembarked from Blister’s airship and moved to greet Tails.

    ~I’m so happy to have caught up with Tails, and of course he’s being as amazing as ever!

    ~Picking up his Ring Radio was a total surprise as Blister was simply trying to make sure hers was properly integrated with her ship. It’s something we can ask Tails to double check on later, but he’s been pretty busy. Being amazing of course~♥

    ~The last we knew, Tails was looking for another pit of radio signal boosting crystals like the ones at Radio Point. What he found instead was a whole medieval castle town, and not a normal one! This one was built entirely upside down on the underside of a giant land bridge. Maybe…~

    “It’s pretty wild Sonic,” Tails happily explained to Sonic as he gave the whole group a tour of where he had been researching. Despite having been separated for so long, it was impossible to tell with how naturally he talked about his findings. “It looks like the city was built upside down, but what purpose would that serve. If my research is right, then it was actually put here by a Ring Shift.”

    “So, what about the people who lived here?”

    Looking around as Tails led the group across the underside of a bridge, Sonic was not wrong to ask. The castle town itself looked like it could have easily supported quite a large population, however, there was no sign of anyone. Tails was more than glad to share his latest hypothesis though.

    “That’s the thing Sonic, there’s no way they should have tried living here, but it looks like they did and probably moved out on their own when it got to be too much.”

    “How is that possible Tails?” Rosy asked, genuinely curious.

    “You want to find out?”

    “Yeah!”

    “You two aren’t about to cause us a lot of trouble, are you?” Sonic asked, scratching inside his ear.

    “It’ll be fun, I’m sure!” Rosy threw all her faith into Tails. “Tails wouldn’t tease it if it wasn’t.”

    “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” Draw asked and received a comforting hand on his shoulder from Mighty.

    “I would say it’s because it’s what those two do. Keeping them out of trouble is as hard as keeping the wind out of a storm.”

    “That’s impossible,” Draw stared at Mighty disbelieving as he replied.

    Mighty’s smile and lone bead of sweat down his cheek did nothing to alleviate his concern, and Gill spoke up to make matters worse.

    “That should give you an idea lad. Last time I accompanied them things just kept getting worse. And I still don’t see how they’ve gotten better.”

    “If you’re so worried about being in danger, you could always leave,” Blister suggested and earned a scowl from Gill.

    Rosy was too distracted to keep the mouse and frog off each other as she took Tails’ offered hand as the fox took off. Flying up towards the deserted city street above, Rosy suddenly felt gravity shift and would have fallen into Tails if he were unprepared.

    “W-O-W~!” Rosy squealed with delight. “This is amazing Tails! But what’s going on?”

    Looking up past the now gravitationally righted Tails, Rosy saw Sonic and the other’s standing on the underside of the bridge above her, and the cloudy sky beyond.

    “It’s some type of anomalous gravity field,” Tails explained. “But it doesn’t affect the entire city equally. And you can tell people tried living here for a while after the shift due to the various twisting roads and bridges throughout the city.”

    “If they were building things–”

    “Then they must have lived here for a while,” Tails finished Rosy’s thought. “But that isn’t the only thing that could have driven them out. Do you remember where the others are standing?”

    “Yeah,” Rosy answered confused and looked back towards Sonic and the others. She missed Tails’ smile and thus was shocked when she turned back forward to see Tails flying straight for a brick wall. “Kya~! Tails watch out! We’re going to crash!”

    ~The crash never came. Ooh~! I’m so mad at Tails for giving me such a scare, even if it turned out to be fun as we flew at the wall but almost crashed into Sonic and the others.

    ~According to Tails, the whole city is full of these weird little ‘dimensional disturbances’. He figures its part of what has been interfering with Ring Radio signals in the lands under Yolk since they transmit across dimensions. It isn’t what he was looking for when he headed out from Radio Point, but it was a great find for him.

    ~I’m so happy for Tails, and I know that he could study this stuff forever, but now that we’ve met back up… Well, it means we have to find Zooey and Fang and get back to working on going home. Though we may need to figure out the Gear Star Ring in my eye first. Hee-hee! It hasn’t replaced my left iris at all since finding Tails, so I nearly forgot about it. Really, seeing Tails again after so long, I nearly forgot about everything.

    ~Reality is such a bully though!~

    “So, that’s your ship Ms. Blister?” Tails asked as they made their way back around the undersides of bridges and roof eaves to where the half avocado shaped airship was effectively moored.

    “It is,” Blister nodded proudly. “It’s my pride and joy! The Avocado Green I call it!”

    “That name is certainly… flavorful,” Tails nervously attempted to be kind about the strange name. Not having the courage to look the mouse who captained it in the eye, Tails looked at the ship and found a topic of conversation to switch to.

    “And it looks like you have quite the crew. I can hardly believe your ship can hold them all.”

    “What are you talking about?” Blister asked and turned her eyes onto her ship. “Oh dear, it looks like I’m being raided actually.”

    “Raided!”

    Tails shout drew everyone’s attention and in no time, they were all aware of the variety of autogolems crawling all over Blister’s vessel.

   It was not Draw’s first time seeing autogolems that looked like they were crafted to resemble the armor of medieval knights, and he knew there was troubling waiting for them and reached for his bow. “Those aren’t yours, right?”

    “No, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t wreck my ship. Ms. Rosy has told me about your penchant for explosives.”

    “I guess that’s your cue, Sonic,” Mighty offered Sonic a smile and received a confident smirk in return.

    “Why not. Bashing bots is kind of my thing.”

    “Can I join you!” Rosy clasped her hands together and asked with excited eyes and wagging trail.

    “Sorry kid,” Sonic denied her request and ruffled her bangs. “In this terrain we can only risk Tails having to catch one of us.”

    “Ooh~! Well, you better put on a show then!”

    “Heh,” Sonic laughed and pointed a thumb at himself. “You know you don’t have to worry about that. Just who do you think I am?”

    “Sonic the Hedgehog of course!” Rosy cheered and thrust her balled up hands into the air. Opening her eyes and bringing her arms down, she cheered Sonic on. “Go get them!”

    “No problem!”

    With an instinct that bordered on supernatural, Sonic took off for the airship at a pace none could match. And not because they didn’t have his speed, but no one could use it like Sonic. Surely the auto golems would soon be helpless scrap before the coming streak of blue. Except…

    “Ho!”

    It was the first time any of them were seeing Claymore the Purple in person, and the towering purple autogolem at his full three meters did not disappoint as he stopped Sonic in mid-air.

    “What in the–?” Sonic questioned as a force pressed him tighter into his curled form and kept him rotating.

    “Impressive to see a Ring Mage choose to enter a melee,” Claymore remarked, as his outstretched hand kept Sonic held in a slowly shrinking ring of purple light. “But no matter. I’ve come for the medium. Well, having interrupted your Ring Radio transmission. Ho! How fortuitous I am this day!”

    With a flick of his wrist, Claymore launched Sonic deep into the castle town and turned his glowing purple eyes on Rosy.

    “Ho! Forgive my rudeness Lady Medium. I am Claymore the Purple, Knight of the Order of the Swords. Now be so kind as to come along peacefully.”

Scene 47 · CLEARED Reunion Knight, to be continued

----

I find myself wanting to laugh just like Rosy did at the start of this. Obviously by the end it wasn’t too cheerful anymore, not with Sonic being yeeted off to who knows where. But, Tails is finally here again. It’s actually kind of wild writing with him involved as he really feels like the glue of the AU. His smarts and enthusiasm for his research; it’s just amazing to write really. Hopefully in the future it will be just as easy and he’ll help tie everything together nicely with that Sonic feel I sometimes feel like I’m missing.

Thank for reading everyone! I hope you’ll be back for the next scene!

-----

Special Thanks to Cutegirlmayra Story by @JoshTarwater/SonicFanJ Inspiring Song – Blue Skies – Tsutomu Narita – Granblue Fantasy Story Music Tracks

Fair Use Disclaimer

Sonic the Hedgehog and all affiliated characters and logos are the express property and Copyright© of SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS used without permission under Title 17 U.S.C Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976 in which allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. “Fair use” is use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be considered copyright infringement. The Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey alternate universe (AU) consumer written work of fiction is a non-profit transformative work primarily for personal use and can and will be taken down without warning or prior notice at the request of the copyright holder(s) should it not be recognized under “fair use”.

*Sonic Ring Bond logo created by DEE Art – twitter.com/daryliscute.

Sonic Ring Bond AU and Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey are the creation of Joshua David Tarwater/ynymbus/sonicfanj/@Joshtarwater and is to be, including all contents herein considered for all legal purposes the property of the Sonic the Hedgehog intellectual property (IP) and copyright owners, SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS. All story contributors via prompt, suggestion, written scene, art, and all and every other contribution acknowledge that all contributed material is forfeit for legal purposes to SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS upon official request from SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS.

[behappykeepclassy]

LOVER Track-by-track Impressions

1. I Forgot That You Existed

catchy AF with the da-da-da in the beginning

“Free rent, living in my mind”

love how she sings “and quieeeetttt”

“It isn’t love, it isn’t hate, it’s just indifference”

“I forgot that you sent me a clear message, taught me some hard lessons”

The “So, yeah” at the end is gold, like vocally shrugging

2. Cruel Summer 

Pure BOP!

Feeling that bass in my soul

“I’m always waiting for you to be waiting below” - 80s John Hughes movie style!

“Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes” is perfect

The whole chorus floats and soars and I love it so much

“You say that we’ll just screw it up in these trying times, we’re not trying” - SUCH A GOOD LINE

“So cut the headlights, summer’s knife, I’m always waiting for you just to cut to the bone” Ouf!

“I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you”

The raspy roar in her voice when she sings “He looks up, grinning like a devil”

3. Lover

Quiet and precious and sweet and lovely and cozy

So happy we have an album with a title song again

4. The Man

“They’d say I played the field before i found someone to commit to”

“Every conquest I had made would make me more of a boss to you”

“I’m so sick of running as fast as I can, wondering if I’d get there quicker if I was a man” - MY MOTTO FROM NOW ON, just running through my head constantly

“What I was wearing, if I was rude” - I feel like this also doubles for her sexual assault case against that radio DJ (blaming the victim)

“I’d be just like Leo in Saint-Tropez” LOL

The whole bridge, when she switches from “And getting bitches and models” to “If I was out flashing my dollars, I’d be a bitch not a baller” OUF

MY INHERENT FEMALE ANGER AT THE INJUSTICE OF THE PATRIARCHY IS ALIVE AND WELL

5. The Archer

This is one of my favourites, even though I’ve had it longer than most cause it was released earlier

Lyrically, best or second best on the album

Destroys me every time, goddamnit

6. I Think He Knows

“I am an architect, I’m drawing up the plans”

I love how she sings “skipping down 16th avenue”, like so specific and wonderful but universal

I like how she owns how much of a catch she herself is in the second verse - like yassss girl

“Lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh, we can follow the sparks (SPARKS FLYYYYYYYY), I’ll smile”

7. Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince

The way it starts, it made me think of The Killers “Well somebody told me that you had a boyfriend who looked like a girlfriend…”

“American glory faded before me” - her fall from the spotlight

“I saw the scoreboard and ran for my life” - hiding away from media and everyone

I like how she incorporates the “OKAY” school chant in the background of the chorus

This has a lot of “I Know Places” vibes, especially second verse

The switch in the bridge from “And I don’t want you to (Go), I don’t really wanna (Fight), ‘Cause nobody’s gonna (Win)” to “And I’ll never let you (Go), ‘Cause I know this is a (Fight),” That somebody we’re gonna (Win)”

Wish she’d held the the last note that she started before entering back into final chorus (it sounded like it was going to go on longer

8. Paper Rings

Makes me think of the happiness of “Stay, Stay, Stay” with a dash of “Holy Ground” energy

Easily one of my faves

Jack Antonoff counting us into the chorus, just love him

Just such fun, every lyric and beat

“I like shiny things but I’d marry you with paper rings” and “I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this” SO CUTE

“Honey, without all the exes, fights, and flaws, we wouldn’t be standing here so tall” - so mature and wonderful and she’s so happy now!

I love that she brings it up an octave starting at the bridge and into the final chorus

I can’t help but smile listening to this over and over again

Like, I want Lover as my wedding song and Paper Rings as a choreographed 20s swing dance with my future husband

9. Cornelia Street 

Hit me the second time more than the first, like wow I actually love this

“‘I rent a place on Cornelia Street,’ I say casually in the car” CUTEEEEE

“That’s the kinda heartbreak time could never mend, I’d never walk Cornelia Street again”

Second half of the chorus makes me think of Dress

“Windows swung right open, autumn air, jacket ‘round my shoulders is yours” - ALL TOO WELL callback

“Back when we were card sharks, playing games, I thought you were leading me one, I packed my bags, left Cornelia Street before you even knew I was gone” - makes me think of when she sings “If I had known what I know now, I never would have played so nonchalant” in Come Back, Be Here

“Barefoot in the kitchen” - makes me think of All Too Well “dancing in the refrigerator light”

I also think Cornelia Street doubles for love itself, like this is it for her, this is the one big love for her and there won’t be another so she wants to get it right and keep it safe

10. Death By A Thousand Cuts

Ignore the lyrics and you almost think it’s a happy song (classic Jack Antonoff Bleachers thing to do)

“I look through the windows of this love, even though we boarded them up, chandelier still flickering here” - brilliant

THE PIANOOOOOOOOOOOOO (very Bleachers ‘Wild Heart’ outro)

She goes from “We were a fresh page on the desk, filling in the blanks as we go” in Cornelia Street to “But if the story’s over, why am I still writing pages?” in Death By A Thousand Cuts, and that kills me

“My heart, my hips, my body, my love, Tryna find a part of me that you didn’t touch”

“Our songs, our films, united, we stand, our country, guess it was a lawless land”

“Why are my fears at the touch of your hands? Paper cut stains from my paper-thin plans” - some of the best lyrics on the album right there, IMO

“My time, my wine, my sprit, my trust, Tryna find a part of me you didn’t take up” - this destroyed me more than I thought it would because it was so unexpected and raw, especially the second half of the line, like she’s realizing that he took too much and it hurts but it wasn’t good to lose herself like that

11. London Boy

Is the voice talking in the beginning Idris Elba?

“They say home is where the heart is, But that’s not where mine lives” - she says the second half like a secret she’s sharing with us over wine

Gotta go back to London STAT

“Doesn’t have to be Louis V up on Bond Street” LOL fancy baller line

12. Soon You’ll Get Better

This and The Archer are the two songs I cried during, just gutted

“The buttons of my coat were tangled in my hair” - how we think of the mundane things when the worst things are happening to try and distract ourselves

“Holy orange bottles, each night, I pray to you” - I don’t know what to say

“…’Cause you have to”

I love that the Dixie Chicks are lightly assisting the chorus without taking the song away from Taylor and its focus

The bridge and pre-final-chorus have me crying the most and I don’t know what to do

This remind me a lot of Ronan mixed with Never Grow Up and Fleetwood Mac’s Landslide

13. False God

Sax is a bit like the sax in Bleachers’ Everybody Lost Somebody (not complaining at all)

“We were stupid to jump in the ocean separating us

I get Dress sexy vibes from this (“The altar is my hips”)

The feathery way she sings the second “this loooovee)

Reminds me of “So It Goes…”

14. You Need to Calm Down

Still a bop, and always will be a bop - just so fun

15. Afterglow

I like that she owns up to her mistakes and destructive tendency

Makes me think of the Lover lyric “And I’m highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you” and in the music video it’s her jealousy that leads to a fight

“Fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves”

“I lived like an island, punished you in silence”

16. ME!

Lyrically and musically, exactly like what happened with Look What You Made Me Do and Reputation - almost like a red herring to put us off the sonic trail of her album until single 2 came out

17. It’s Nice To Have a Friend

We get a story again! I’ve missed story song! (think Mary’s Song and Everything Has Changed mixed together)

Lovely chill indie vibes

“Something gave you the nerve to touch my hand”

Love me some trumpet

“Church bells ring, carry me home” (like third verse of Mary’s Song)

“Rice on the ground looks like snow” - poetic cute

18. Daylight

“My love was a cruel as the cities I lived in, everyone looked worse in the light” - like Cruel Summer and Getaway Car and even Back to December, she wanted something and got it, only find it wasn’t what she wanted and she ended up hurting someone in the process

Chorus makes me think of You Are in Love floating synth

“I wounded the good and I trusted the wicked” (Back to December, Getaway Car, I Knew You Were Trouble)

“Clearing the air, I breathed in the smoke” harkens back to The Archer’s “The room is on fire, invisible smoke”

“Threw out our cloaks and our daggers because it’s morning now” - she no longer needs I Know Places, no fear or hiding

“I once believe love would be (Black and white) But it’s (Golden) […] I once believed love would be (Burning red) But it’s golden” - Burning red calls back to Red (duh!), Golden calls back to Dress “Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo”, End Game “It’s like your eyes are liquor, it’s like your body is gold”, So It Goes… “Gold cage, hostage to my feelings” and Dancing With Our Hands Tied “Deep blue, but you painted me golden”

“You gotta step into the daylight and let it go” - remind me of the poem The Trick to Holding On that she wrote for Vogue (“The trick to holding on Was all that letting go”)

The talking outro is very Jack Antonoff/Bleachers’ Strange Desire, cause he threads introspective talking throughout, especially when she says “I wanna be defined by the things that I love” and he sings “I wanna be grateful for the experiences that I’ve had” in You’re Still a Mystery

[make-it-mavis]

Starlight

WiR fic (ROADBLASTERS NEVER HAPPENED AU) 14,452 words Characters: Make-it Mavis, Turbo, Dr. Mario Minor/Mentioned Characters: Calhoun, Hero’s Duty soldiers, Fix-it Felix, Surge Protector, Zangief Content Warnings: In-depth themes of addiction/drugs, descriptions of wounds, one needle, the word "sex" is used once (you never know)

Premise: The Roadblasters incident may have never happened, and Mavis and Turbo may have grown into well-adjusted, happy, productive members of society, but it was never Roadblasters alone that threatened their lives. It's early 2013, and Mavis has come home from a party that went horribly awry, in horrible pain, and horribly afraid... feeling dangerously young.

________________________________

It took Mavis the entire walk home to realize that there was no time in recent memory that she had been in so much pain. 

The emotional and physical exhaustion were bad enough on their own, and she could feel her heavy bones and grinding joints crying out for a chance to sit as she reached the crimson door to her house. But as tired as she might have been, she knew that the deep, pulsing pain in the left side of her face was bound to keep her awake all night. 

At least she was home. The day was over and done, and she could be with her fiancé. She had been picturing him the whole way home, longing for the relief of cozying up to his warm, sleeping body under the blankets.

When she opened the unlocked door and stepped in, however, she saw light glowing from the kitchen, and heard the TV going in the living room. He was up, and he must have been waiting for her. Her heart sank, both from the regret of robbing him of sleep and from the certainty that he was going to want an explanation. Mavis was not sure she would be up to talking about it just yet, not even with him.

Still, she slipped out of her shoes and crossed over into the kitchen, accepting the inevitable. Much to her relief, she did not see him at first, only a loaf of bread that he forgot to put away and a butterknife still smeared with a bit of mayonnaise. But after setting her bags down on the kitchen island, she wandered over to the shadowy living room and peered over the back of the couch. Sure enough, he was there, but he was lightly sleeping, laid across the cushions with his head resting on a pillow in the corner. Mavis' shoulders relaxed. At least he had ended up dozing off after all. It was a welcome sight to see him so peaceful, too, after her rough evening. Watching as the cool light of the TV danced over his face, she remarked to herself not for the first time how no one would ever believe he could look so soft.

Resisting the urge to touch him, she walked back to the kitchen with the intent to feed and refresh herself. She barely even had the energy to make a sandwich, but since the bread was already out, she threw something together with scavenged scraps from the fridge, and grabbed a well-deserved bottle of root beer. Still craving her fiancé's company, she returned to the couch to sit past his feet, and tried to take a load off. Upon taking a bite of her sandwich and receiving a sharp jolt of pain that forked out from her teeth into her cheek and eye, she decided food could wait. Setting her barely bitten sandwich on the coffee table, she stuck to her root beer, which was, thankfully, relatively painless. She hoped the TV would prove distracting. It was Zangief's book show, however, so it was a toss-up.

The hulking street fighter sat in view, indecently clothed as ever, wearing comically small glasses as he read aloud from a book and a fireplace crackled behind him.

In that thick accent of his, he read, “All these enclosures are bounded by the river on one side and by a house on the other. The man in the waistcoat and wooden shoes of whom we have just spoken lived, about the year 1817, in the smallest of these enclosures and the humblest of these houses. He lived there solitary and alone, in silence and in poverty, with a woman who was neither young nor old, neither beautiful nor ugly, neither peasant nor bourgeois, who waited upon him. The square of earth which he called his garden was celebrated in the town for the beauty of the flowers which he cultivated in it. Flowers were his occupation.”

She could see why Turbo fell asleep.

It did not take Mavis very long to grow lonely and restless. She looked over at the snoozing Turbo and debated with herself. Even if there was a risk of him asking too many questions, she just wanted to talk to him at all. And she wanted him to join her upstairs, when the time came.

So she reached over and poked his butt. He stirred, and she did it again. "Hello," she sang quietly. "You alive?"

Turbo grunted, and his head lifted a bit so that he could peer over at her through harshly squinting yellow eyes. He smiled with a bit of a puff and twisted around in an attempt to stretch his shoulders. Voice straining, he rasped, “Hiya dollface.”

“Hiya Bright Eyes,” she smiled, and barely stifled a wince from the pain in her cheek. Thankfully, Turbo did not notice.

He did sit up, however, to check the wall clock in the dining area that read six-fifteen.

“Woah,” he combed a hand over his mess of hair, still blinking out the sleep. “Did ya just get home?”

“Mmm, like half an hour ago,” she told him. “You weren’t waitin’ up for me, were ya?”

Turbo sniffed. “Nah, nah. I just got real sucked into a project, n’ after I finished, I came out for a bite, n’ then… I guess I figured I’d snooze ‘til y��got back. Had no idea you’d be out so late.”

“Neither did I,” Mavis cocked her head a bit and took a swig of root beer. “Party ran real late. Everyone n’ their grandma wanted to make some kinda speech or get me to play a song for so-n’-so.”

“Well, they must’a been a real chatty bunch,” Turbo said in disbelief. “I hope y’got paid extra.”

“I’ll bug ‘em about it later,” she waved him off. “I’m wiped. I just wanna be done for the night.”

“Yeah, no kiddin’. Y’wanna go to bed, then?”

She did, she really did. But her face hurt so damn much, and she hated imagining a pillow pushed against it. Managing a smirk into her right cheek, she held up her root beer and wobbled it. “Not done my reward yet.”

Turbo snickered. “Ah, o’course.”

Mavis took another swallow, and then the two looked at each other for a little while, Turbo propping his elbow over the back of the couch, his hand clearly the only thing keeping his head up. Mavis had a simple solution, and that was to take a pillow from her side of the couch, place it in her lap, and pat it expectantly. He made a tired, but pleased noise in agreement, and obliged by turning around and laying his head in her lap. The weight on her legs was soothing and grounding, just as she expected it to be.

She looked over his body as she rubbed his chest. He was in the usual House-Turbo garb of a sleeveless shirt and sweatpants, a look she found so strangely endearing. But still, she pulled the old patchy blanket from the back of the couch and covered him up, cute outfit or no. He quivered a bit and squirmed into an even more comfortable position.

A contented little moan escaped him. “Hell yeah,” he purred dreamily.

“Hell yeah,” she agreed with a careful chuckle, stroking his bangs back over his head. He looked at her then, and she recognized the cozy, inviting look in his eyes immediately. He wanted to kiss her. Any other time, that would have been swell. But a sort of panic jittered in the back of her head, saying that the kiss would hurt in some unexpected way, and she would flinch, and he would notice, and her cover would be blown, and then they would have to talk about it. That would be not-so-swell.

So, when he sat up a bit, expecting her to close the gap between their faces, she opted to grab his nose and wiggle it. There was a small honk of surprise as he pulled her hand away. 

“Excuse me,” he grinned in a slightly confused way, “that does not belong to you.”

“Not yet,” she shrugged, trying very hard to keep her smile small. “Once we’re married I’ll own your entire body.”

He smirked and squinted at her sidelong. “Is that how it works?”

“Well, it better be, or I’ll have said yes for nothin’,” she shrugged in feigned indifference.

Turbo scoffed and took up her hand again. “Whatever. Take it,” he kissed her hand and brought it with him as he laid his head back down onto her lap. He squeezed her fingers as he held them to his chest. “You’ll put it to good use, no doubt.”

“Always do,” she agreed, relieved to see her nose-grabbing impulse worked.

Turbo fell peacefully silent after that, and she contentedly twirled her fingers through his wild black hair. She had to reach over him to the coffee table whenever she wanted a sip of root beer, but he had no complaints there, which was unsurprising. Everything started to flow into low key contentment, finally. She was home, she was with Turbo, and she was having a root beer, like any night should have gone. Listening to Zangief continue to read the ancient tome of a book, she started to have hopes that she could fall asleep sitting up and not have to go to bed at all.

Zangief read, “Twice a year, on the first of January and on St. George’s Day, Marius wrote filial letters to his father, which his aunt dictated, and which, one would have said, were copied from some Complete Letter Writer; this was all that M. Gillenormand allowed; and the father answered with very tender letters, which the grandfather thrust into his pocket without reading.”

Then he closed the book with a clap that startled both Mavis and Turbo a bit, and they mutually chuckled over it, and Zangief gave his closing remarks and goodnights as Mavis rubbed Turbo’s soft belly beneath the blanket. Zangief reminded the world about his book club meetings, bid them happy reading, and was gone. The same old round of PSAs began in his show's absence, and sounded like nothing more than some muffled blend of Surge and Sonic’s voices to Mavis. Her eyes had left the screen entirely, content to get caught up in the sight of her fiancé relaxing in her lap, so warm, so happy, so… safe. Exactly where she meant to keep him.

Some horrible, haunting ghost of long-buried burdens had the nerve to make her question whether she could.

Almost on cue, another PSA started, and the music alone made her gut wrench. In a few seconds, she would hear her own voice detailing the dangers of buff use, what to do in the case of an overdose, where to turn for help and advice… as if she was some benevolent model for addicts to aspire to, as if she had it all under control…

No. Not now.

Quick as a snake, her hand snatched up the remote and turned off the TV. The living room fell into shadow, illuminated only by the kitchen a little ways behind them. Turbo’s glowing eyes opened in surprise at her sharp movement, and it occurred to her then that she may not have pulled the smartest move. But she had barely even thought before acting. It was like a knee-jerk reaction, one that she had never had about her own PSA before that night. It was really beginning to sink in, what bad shape she was in.

At first, Turbo just smirked at her, perplexed. “Gee, babe, your acting ain’t that bad…”

Roll with it, she thought. Give some snappy response and play it off. Go to bed. Don’t let it show.

But she recognized that shame, the sort that would force her to hide her pain, sometimes literally. That shame had caused enough suffering in her life before, and she could not welcome it back in. She closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath.

Turbo’s head lifted a bit. “...You okay?”

She let the words fall out, “Someone used buffs at my party.”

“...What? Who?” he asked, seeds of concern in his voice.

“A Hero’s Duty soldier,” she said lowly. “Tonight was that morale-boosting party Calhoun requested.”

“That was tonight?” Turbo sat up, and Mavis opened her eyes. “I didn’t know.”

Mavis huffed a bit through her nose, managing a tiny rueful, unhappy smile. “You should be glad you weren’t there. Trust me.”

Turbo frowned. “No, I kinda wish I had been,” he said quietly. “What happened?”

She found it a bit difficult to look at him as she spoke. “Well… the party was goin’ pretty great -- it was in the courtyard back in Fix-it Felix Jr., so the venue was cozy, and the music was good, and the drinks were good. Everyone was havin’ fun, from what I could tell. But I noticed that one guy was missing. I-- I didn’t really think much about it, but I have seen him overdoin’ it at Tapper’s before, so… I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t passed out in the river, or somethin’.”

“And which soldier was this?”

Mavis grimaced a bit, remembering her etiquette surrounding addicts. “It’s… not really my place to say.”

Turbo paused, but knowing the work she did, he seemed to understand. He nodded a bit. “Okay. So you went lookin’ for him?”

“Yeah, and I-- I tracked him… into the woods, a little bit.”

“Were you alone?”

“...Yeah. I didn’t expect to find…”

A glance at Turbo found him frowning, not in an accusatory way, but in a way that showed clear dislike for what he was hearing. Mavis’ weary heart begged her to drop the subject, but she ignored it and carried on. This did not have to be difficult. He did not need the whole truth.

“I found him totally out of his head. He must’ve been havin’ a real bad trip. I dunno what he was on, but he was on a lot of it. His eyes were practically blinding by that point… but no one noticed because he had been wearing shades, like a few of the other soldiers. He didn’t even bring in a question-mark block. There was some compartment in his armor that he hid the buff in -- at least, that was Calhoun’s guess, when she found out.”

“Really. How’d she take it?”

“Well, she…” she paused. “She didn’t really trust that I knew what I was doin’. I sent Felix to go fetch Surge, and that might’ve been a mistake. Maybe he could’ve vouched for me. She wanted to get in and deal with the situation herself, and I just had to try to keep her and the soldiers back. Really had to break out the hardass voice.”

“Devs help them,” Turbo said with a half-smile as he turned sideways to face her, once again resting his head in his hand over the back of the couch. “Did they run cryin’ back to their game?”

Mavis chuffed. “Nah… that team’s pretty tight-knit, apparently. They refused to leave, even though the party was definitely over. Surge showed up, and we managed to get some blankets on the guy, and then we had to search every other guest for buffs, check all their eyes, the works…” she just grew more and more tired as her story went on, “then we took him to Dr. Mario, and then I had to give an impromptu seminar to Calhoun and the soldiers on how to handle addiction in friends, what sort of accommodations or-- or time off he might need, and how he’d have to come to B.A. and all that. Even still after that, I had to give a report to Surge, and after that, I had to go help clean up after the party, and deal with Felix fussin’ over me, and…”

With a heavy sigh, she leaned forward over her knees, propped up on her elbows. She closed her eyes and rubbed the side of her face that was not in agony. “I’m just so glad to be home,” she muttered weakly.

The cushions shifted as Turbo scooted closer, and she felt his hand on her back. He stroked slowly and deeply, a sensation she found so comforting.

“I’m glad too,” he said gently, but sadly. “You shouldn’t’ve had to deal with all that.”

She exhaled through her nose. “It’s what I do.”

“And y’do it like a champ,” he agreed. “Surge should count himself lucky he’s got your help. Some nights just hit harder than others, I guess.”

Mavis slowly crossed her arms and squeezed her elbows, feeling low and weirdly sick. “I’m just glad it’s over.”

In her peripheral vision, she saw Turbo lean forward to see her face. Tentatively, she looked at him, and her heart ached at his smile, the way it did whenever she was keeping something from him. Always, she wanted him in the loop. But whatever reaction he would have to the whole truth, she did not have the emotional energy for. So, at the very least, she returned a soft, restrained smile.

“Then let’s go to bed,” he suggested. “Then it’s over for real. Yeah?”

Mavis’ heart fizzled. It really was time to face the pillows. She nodded slightly and breathed, “Yeah.”

They both stood, and Turbo took her hand to lead her out of the living room. Her normally springy feet dragged along the floor, profound exhaustion weighing her down like lead in her veins. The pain in her cheek had become so excruciating that it had infected her head, leaving her temples throbbing. And the guilt of hiding it all from Turbo sprinkled hot embers in her belly. It was not something that she should have been hiding from anyone, much less the man she was set to marry. But that was what buffs did to her, even second hand. They made her hide, and they made her lie.

Unconsciously, Mavis had brought her free hand to Turbo's forearm as they slowly walked together, rubbing as she kept herself close to him. This prompted Turbo to stop before they had even passed the bathroom, and turn to give her a reassuring smile.

"Hey," he whispered, curling his arms around her waist and gently pulling her in, "you get your ass in here."

Cautious, but in dire need of a hug, Mavis complied. She draped her arms over his shoulders as if they were dancing, and carefully leaned her right cheek against him. Her anxiety did not melt, but parts began to run a bit. She wished terribly that she could give him a crushing hug with reckless abandon. 

"Yeah… there's my girl. There's my tiger," he sighed lovingly, rubbing her back and swaying a bit by nature. "You had a real crappy night, but you kicked its ass. You're a freakin' superstar, y'know?"

Guilt tainted every response that came into her head, so she just scoffed in feigned bashfulness. 

"It's true. I'd know, being the OG superstar," he insisted, which did make her chuckle a bit. He then said quietly and sincerely, "Y'make me real proud, doin' stuff like that."

Her heart shied away from the praise, but she did give him a firm squeeze. "Thanks, sugar," she muttered drearily.

At that, Turbo pulled back until he was holding onto her elbows and looking her right in the seemingly perfect face. He gave her a sleepy smirk, and he said, "Thank you for gettin' home in one piece, eventually."

The irony of that comment froze Mavis' heart for just a moment, but that was enough time for disaster to strike. She was too distracted to register the sight of his face drawing close, of it setting course for her left cheek, and those glowing eyes going dark as they closed. She only realized that he had kissed her cheek when she felt it burst into searing pain.

Her sharp, sudden yelp startled the absolute bits out of Turbo, who instantly jumped back from her.

"WOAH--!! What ha-- What happened?!" he stammered quickly, moving to steady her as she shrunk towards the wall.

The throbbing pain was lasting far too long. Mavis clenched her eyes shut, biting down dangerously hard on her lip. Gently, her shoulder met the wall, and she leaned her weight against it. Turbo was right on her, holding onto her free shoulder and cupping her right cheek with his other hand, trying to direct her face.

"Mav--" he breathed, "What did I-- Are you okay?"

"M'fine," she rasped unconvincingly. It was then, however, that she looked at Turbo, and saw a harrowing sight. His lips, parted with confusion, were smeared with a touch of blood. Unwittingly, she stared at it, eyes wide.

Turbo squinted at her. "What are you looking at? Wha--" he skirted his tongue over his upper lip, and paused. Registering the taste, he wiped the back of his hand over his lips, and found it stained red. For a moment, he just stared at it. But his eyes turned to Mavis again, wide with alarm under his furrowing brow.

"This isn't my blood, is it," he told more than asked.

Mavis stared at him severely, frozen like a deer in headlights. His eyes certainly were like headlights, shedding harsh light over her shame, and her stupid attempt to hide. She ran through her head just what she could possibly say to him.

"Mavis," Turbo urged impatiently, "what is going on?"

Swallowing, she figured all she could do was give it to him straight.

"He hit me," she said lowly.

Turbo froze. "What?"

"I took his glasses off to see his eyes," she explained slowly, "...and he punched me."

For a moment, there was silence, and nothing but a tense stare. But Turbo spoke up quietly, a calm veil over the fury she could practically smell on him.

"Mav. Ditch the paint job."

She took a deep breath. Bracing herself for what was about to come, she concentrated painfully hard until a flash of blue binary glitched over her face and down her neck, washing away the disguise edits on her pixels and revealing the damage done.

Mavis had not actually gotten a chance to look at her face at all since it happened, but from the look on Turbo's face, she could tell it was not pretty. For a second, shock drowned everything else out. His jaw fell slack and he leaned in close to study the injury, clearly taking a great effort not to touch it. Mavis just avoided his gaze, awful feelings brewing in her belly as she was scrutinized.

"Oh--" Turbo breathed, "oh my Devs, this is-- Mav, why would you--..."

Then his shock cut out, and a grin angrier than she had ever seen on him spread across his face. 

And just like that, he turned around and strode towards the front door.

Mavis was just confused for a moment, but her pounding heart suddenly hit harder. "Wait," she called, "where are you goin’?"

"To the hospital," he called back in a casual tone but dangerous volume. "So I can delete that son of a glitch out of existence."

Perfect. Brilliant. Splendid. Just what she needed to deal with after all she had been through that night. She trotted after him and sighed, “Turbo, you know that’s not gonna help.”

“Helps me plenty,” he dismissed her quickly.

She hopped right into his path. “He’ll still be in quarantine. You won’t even be able to get to him.”

“I’ll find a way,” he tried to push past her, but she braced both hands against his chest.

“Turbo,” she said sharply, “I just want tonight to be over. Let it be over. It’s done.”

“I know you do,” he said without looking at her, “that’s why I’m gonna go end it.”

“No, you’re not,” she growled with strain as he pushed against her. “You’re gonna go make everything worse. Just-- Just don’t!”

Turbo stopped pushing for a moment, standing firm and looking at her pointedly. “I have to, okay?!” he said harshly, his patience clearly wearing thin.

“You can’t protect me! It already happened!”

“I know it did!”

“I don’t need to be protected!”

“I know you don’t!” he raked his fingers through his hair with a loud, growling sigh. “But I just have to, okay, I need this!”

“Why?!” she demanded, throwing her hands up. “‘Cause you’re the man?!”

Turbo sucked in a breath, his whole body quaking for a second, before words burst from his mouth. “Because I love you, okay?!”

There was a moment’s silence as they stared at each other. Mavis could feel herself twisting up inside as she looked at his desperate, terribly distressed face. Before long, he held onto her shoulders and hunched down the short distance it took to be eye-level with her.

“I love you,” he said quietly with a squeeze on her arms, “and I protect the things I love. So, please, get outta the way.”

He tried to move past her again, but she caught him by the elbows and kept him in place. She stared into his eyes with a look that she only hoped he would understand.

“If you really love me,” she told him earnestly, “then you’ll know this wasn’t his fault.”

Turbo grumbled, “Well, it sure wasn’t yours, either.”

“He wasn’t in his right mind, Turbo. He didn’t know what was happening. He didn’t know who I was. He didn’t mean it,” she explained insistently. “You know that. I know you know that, ‘cause he’s no different than I was!”

Turbo gave a low scoff. “You two ain’t even in the same galaxy.”

Mavis could tell Turbo was in his own sort of altered state, just blinded by rage. Normally, he would have at least tried to listen to her, but it was like his ears were walled off. But it was hurting Mavis in ways he should have understood, hearing him talk like that. She was quickly becoming desperate, her need to defend both an innocent addict and herself boiling over. She just had to snap him out of it, or the fight would get a whole hell of a lot worse.

After receiving Mavis' silent, pained glare long enough, Turbo shook his head and went straight for the doorknob. "You don't need to understand," he grumbled.

Before his hand could make contact, Mavis darted and clamped her fingers around the knob, forcing a sharp warning into her stare. Turbo was a bit thrown off at that, and stepped back a bit when he saw her draw her brush. No fear entered his eyes, but he was alert, wise enough to give her space. The buildup of nasty emotions she had been carrying all night seemed to toil furiously over itself, and the friction's heat burst out of her paintbrush, the dollop of paint suddenly alight with bright, angry, popping sparks that cast flickering light over the room as if she were holding a lit firecracker.

"Turbo, if you so much as turn this doorknob, I swear to the Devs," she snarled viciously, "I will hogtie you on the spot and throw you in the hall closet 'til the arcade opens, you hear me?!"

It was an empty threat, and she was pretty sure Turbo knew it (at least, she hoped he did). All the same, his gaze was fixed on her, the sparks from her brush reflecting in his eyes like burning stars. But his furrowed brow loosened. His rigid posture slowly went slack as he backed off from her. And those stars in his eyes somehow seemed to burn a bit cooler. Mavis had managed to snap him out of it, a fact that relieved her so greatly that the sparks leaping from her paint fizzled out. Still, she refused to move until she was certain.

Turbo blinked slowly, taking a long breath through his nose. The corner of his mouth twitched with the idea of a smile. “Hardass voice,” he murmured.

Heaving a sigh, Mavis sheathed her brush and took the threat out of her stance. She softly held Turbo’s gaze, exhaustion leaving her cold and vulnerable. In a beaten-down voice, she quietly told him, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of that.”

“Part of you probably did,” Turbo replied with the ghost of a laugh, but fell into a sadder note. “But I’m sorry, too. I’ll stay here.”

Another sigh blowing past her lips, Mavis leaned back against the door and rubbed her right cheek. “Okay,” she nodded. 

An extended hand came into her vision, and she looked to find Turbo inviting her out of her miserable bubble without intruding into it, a definitive sign that he had come to his senses. She took his hand, of course, craving close comfort more than anything else in the world. He gave a tug and let her lead herself into a carefully constructed hug, one that would spare her broken face. Closing her eyes, she rested herself against him and tried to let the familiar warm feeling of his code soothe everything. It did help, somewhat.

Turbo held her gently but firmly, sighing his own deep, restless sighs. "I know it wasn't actually his fault," he told her softly. "I just hate that I wasn't even there… I was safe at home and… and I'm just-- I mean, I know you don't need protecting. I know that. But a stranger still attacked my fiancée tonight, and I-- I can't just deal with that. I can't just not want to fight back when someone hurts you. Buffs or not."

Listening carefully, she nodded. "I know… That's fair."

He slowly squeezed her tighter. "I just… I need to do something. What can I do now?"

A small smile carefully crept onto Mavis' face. She adored him so much, even after all that. Her demon with a heart of hot, rumbling gold. Resisting the urge to bury her face under his neck with great difficulty, Mavis settled for slowly rubbing his back to show her love.

"I don't need you to fight my battles for me," she muttered sincerely, "I need you to hold me up after the fact. Just… stay with me. Please, T."

Turbo's chest swelled with a long sigh through his nose, and Mavis felt his hand rise up to pet her hair comfortingly. "Always," he whispered. “Always, I’m here.”

"I love you so much," she told him softly, finding that her own words picked at a raw anxiety deep in her gut. Her words were true, but for the first time in a lifetime, they felt… mournful. Almost frightening.

Not picking up on her unease at all, Turbo simply replied, "I love you, too. Maybe too much for my own health." Then he pulled back from her, his hands sliding to her biceps as he looked over her bloodied face again. It clearly pained him just to look. Once again fighting to keep his hand away, he whispered unsteadily, "You poor cuss. You didn't deserve this. I bet it hurts like a son of a glitch."

Mavis could not lie about it. "It really does. It hurts to even move my face," she muttered. "It really looks that bad, huh?"

Turbo tilted his head and his lip curled in disbelief. "You haven't seen it?"

"I… haven't had that much time to check," she half-lied.

"Okay…" Turbo said, letting her go. "Mav, do me a favor and go look in the mirror."

She blinked at him before her gaze drifted towards the bathroom. Mavis was not afraid to see a little carnage, but now that it had come down to it, she wondered if she had hidden her wounds for her own sake, as well. Most of her wanted to pretend the night’s violence had not happened at all. She did not want to see the truth of what happened and make it all the more real. But she could not continue hiding it from herself while subjecting Turbo to it. That just seemed unfair, almost cruel. 

So, wordlessly, she complied and strode stiffly to the bathroom. She stepped into the dark and looked only at her black silhouette for a moment, steeling herself for what she might see filling that shape. Swallowing, she flipped the switch, winced at the harsh change of light, and felt her heart leap into her throat the moment her eyes adjusted.

It was a brutal sight. It looked every bit as painful as it was. 

Almost the entirety of the left side of her face had been transformed into some morbid sort of painting. Under her inflamed skin, there were spills of sick yellows, sprays of vicious reds, and smears of noxious violet. Blood had been weeping from two deep tears in her cheek, presumably from the soldier’s heavily armored knuckles. Dried blood trailed all the way down her neck, and the wounds themselves were still wet, having stained Turbo’s lips minutes before. Even most of the white in her darkly-ringed eye had been stained an opaque red from burst blood vessels.

She leaned over the sink, exhaling coldly. “...Holy crit.”

Turbo appeared in the doorway behind her, folding his arms. “Yeah,” he sighed. “So, you can see why I wanna kick someone’s ass right now.”

Very carefully, she lifted a hand and tested the swelling. At even a slight brush, throbbing pain pulsed deep into the contours of her face. Even grimacing against the pain made it worse. The damage was proving to be quite severe, a fact that made her stomach quiver. “I… think my cheekbone might be broken,” she thought out loud.

A deep, disapproving groan emanated from Turbo. “Probably. Those guys’ fists are easily the size of your head,” he grumbled, and then quirked his head and squinted at a peculiar thought. “Wait, Felix would’ve been there, right? Why didn’t he heal you?”

Mavis straightened up and braced the heels of her palms against the counter, unable to look away from her own brutalized face. “He… didn’t know,” she sighed, a thick cloud of shame swirling in her head. “I covered up the wound pretty much the second I got it.”

“...Why?”

She shrugged. “It was just… It was already gonna be such a situation, and violence would’ve made a whole thing of it, and…” she sighed. “I needed to focus on handlin' everything, and its hard to do that with everyone fussin’ over ya.”

“Right,” he said slowly, “but you didn’t even go to him after?”

“Didn’t have the emotional energy,” she muttered.

“Yeah, okay,” he nodded begrudgingly. “What about Dr. Mario? You were at the hospital, weren’t you? Why not tell him?”

“All the soldiers were there, too, including Calhoun,” she said. “I didn’t want them to know he hurt me.”

“Mm,” Turbo grunted. “That’s kind of important, though, ain’t it?”

Mavis’ gaze fell a bit. “Doesn’t have to be,” she lied.

“But if he knows he hurt an innocent sprite, that could be a major wake-up call for him, right? Ain’t that the point when a lot of addicts realize they got a problem?”

Turbo was absolutely right, and she knew this very well. Too well, even. But the topic was more tender than it had been in years, and she could not find any response that she could bear to say. The conversation was steering itself towards a corner that Mavis knew she was bound to get stuck in, but the closer it got, the more she could feel her hackles raising in a growing, defensive panic. She hated when she would get this way, but felt utterly weak against it that night. Silently, she hung her head.

Hearing no response, Turbo carried on. “Nevermind,” he mumbled, before moving on to his next harrowing question. “Why didn’t you just go to the hospital after all was said and done? Didn’t Calhoun and her crew go home?”

“Yeah,” she breathed. “But I just wanted to go home, too.”

Turbo exhaled sharply, not in anger, but definitely exasperation. She heard him step forward, and felt his hand gently rub the curve of her back. “I don’t blame ya, baby. Really. It’s been a hell of a night,” he said tiredly. “But you gotta get healed up. Let’s go to the hospital, yeah?”

Tensing up, Mavis shook her heavy head. “N-no…”

“It’s okay,” he assured her, wrapping an arm over her shoulders. “I’ll be right there with ya. Y'can just sleep all this off.”

Almost unconsciously, she slowly leaned away from him. “No. I’m not goin',” she said coldly.

“Wh--” Turbo half-chuckled incredulously, “what? Why?”

Her knuckles turned white. “I-- I don’t want to.”

“Well, that’s…” he straightened up, “that’s too bad, but ya have to.”

“Says who?”

“Says me,” he said, clearly getting frustrated.

Mavis’ nose crinkled a bit, and she shook his arm off of her shoulders. “You ain’t the boss of me,” she growled.

“I know. ‘Cept for when you’re flat-out refusin’ to take care of yourself, then, yeah, I get to boss you around a bit,” he told her firmly. “I’m not gonna let you wallow in pain for no Dev-damned reason.”

Finally, Mavis straightened up and backed away from him, her face aching deeply with the warning glare she was pointing at her partner. It felt terrible, and she wanted to stop, but it was out of her control. “You don’t get to ‘let’ me do anything,” she hissed, "and I have a very good reason!"

"Okay then," Turbo threw his hands up, "what is it?!"

"I-- I--" she stammered, so much conflict in her brain that she felt she could have started glitching, "I can't."

"What, you can't go or you can't tell me?" he asked impatiently.

Her stomach burned. Her muscles tingled. A jolt of adrenaline whipped up her spine. This was it. This was the corner.

And this was her fear.

"I-- I just CAN'T!" she shouted, squeezing her eyes shut and quite nearly ripping her hair out. "Can you not hear me?! I can't go and I won't go, so just GET OUT!"

Mavis refused to look Turbo in the eye for fear of what effect his expression might have on her heart, but she saw him already shifting tentatively towards the door. He tried to say something, but she cut him off immediately. 

"I said GET OUT!" she did not lay a hand on him, but effectively chased him out of that bathroom. He lingered outside, and Mavis grabbed the doorknob, still keeping her eyes low. "And go clean the motor oil from your ears while you're at it!"

Then, with the sharp slam of a door, she isolated herself. This was something she always told the sprites at Buff Anon not to do, but her deep distress had completely taken the wheel. Seeking all the hiding she could get like a wounded animal, she climbed into the bathtub, yanked the curtains closed with a metallic clang, and sat down. Knees to her chest, she curled her fingers into claws against her skull and fought to keep from crying. Deep inside her code, dried-up patches of self-loathing began to run, muddying the waters of her brain. Somehow, her fear of hurting those she loved always seemed to self-fulfill. No matter what, her ugliest colors would bleed out eventually.

She should have been better. Turbo deserved better. Her heart ached horribly for what she had done. For what she doubted her own strength to not do.

Resting her chin on her hugged knees, she listened for anything in the hallway. There was no yelling, no speaking, no words at all. For a while, all she heard was his feet pacing back and forth outside the door. No doubt an effort to calm down and sort out his thoughts. But after stewing in guilt for what felt like forever, she jumped at a gentle knock on the door.

"Hey doll," Turbo called softly and carefully. "Can I come in, now?"

Mavis took a deep breath. It was time to start acting her age, or at least try to. "Yeah," she called back drearily.

The door opened, and then it closed. Hearing nothing from Turbo for a moment, she said, "I'm over here."

Mavis expected him to pull the curtain back, but she only heard him sit down on the other side of it, next to her. Carefully, she glanced over. The curtain was about as closed as it could go, but it could not tightly hug the wall. From where she sat at the back of the tub, there was a tall, thin gap in her mildewy barrier, and through it, she could see Turbo's back against the wall, and one yellow eye peeking through at her tiredly. He must have seen only her gruesome red eye, a fact that prompted her to look away.

She sighed roughly. "I'm so sorry, baby," she muttered.

"I know you are," he said calmly and reassuringly. "It's okay. That was nothing."

Mavis shook her head. "I just… ain't myself tonight."

"This whole thing really did a number on you, huh?"

Mavis was too busy formulating a plan on what and how she could tell him to answer, so he continued. "Y'know, I really wanna help you, Mav. But I can't if you don't talk to me."

Head swimming with heavy thoughts, Mavis stared at the tub's drain and pictured it sucking up all the messy words that were about to spill from her mouth. It was just comforting enough to finally get her going.

After a long, pregnant pause, she began wearily, "It's just… it was just so personal, T. It was in my game. At my party. In my forest, where I used to live. Buffs haven't been that closely involved in my personal life in… a really long time. I mean, Buff Anon is one thing, but that's more like work. And no one is actually high there. It… it completely blindsided me."

Turbo just listened politely.

"And… and I think the worst of it was," she continued, feeling sick, "being so close to… buff violence again. I hear about it in B.A., I've witnessed it, and I've even intervened, but I've… I've never been on the receiving end. So I know what that feels like now. And that… made me realize… just how it must have felt when I…"

She hugged her knees tighter. "...When I did that to sprites. How confused and scared they must've been. And I did that to strangers… and to sprites I really care about."

After a pause, Turbo piped up gently. "You know it wasn't your fault. It wasn't you."

A silence fell over them, one that lasted just long enough to be uncomfortable. Mavis was preparing to spill the hard truth of why she was so acutely shaken, and found that, like most things, the best thing to do would be to give it to him straight. As hard as it may have been. 

Licking her dry lips, she asked slowly and shakily, "Y'wanna know why I don't wanna go see Dr. Mario?"

"Why?"

"Because… he'd-- he'd put me on healing buffs, and I--" she hit a snag in her sentence and hung her head, struggling against the quiver in her lip. The end of her sentence came fast and forcefully.

"And I'm scared that I'll relapse again!"

Mavis braced, but Turbo was quiet for a moment. She could tell that he was a little stunned, but he soon broke out of it with a small sigh. "Mav, baby," he said gently but insistently, "you're not gonna relapse."

"How do you know that?" she asked miserably, muffled against her knee.

"Well, for one thing, you've been clean for, what, ten years?"

"Thirteen and five months," she corrected him. "It took me ten to relapse the first time. It doesn't go away. It just goes to sleep. I'm so scared of it waking up."

"It won't."

"Why?"

"Because--" he tripped over his words a bit and sighed. "Because things are different now. Especially for you. You moved outta that game makin' you miserable. You live in a real house now, with me, your best-friend-slash-incredibly-sexy-fiancé--"

Mavis gave one chuckle.

"--you've got a huge circle of friends who all care about you, you have several jobs that you're amazing at, and hell, you run Buff Anon. So many sprites have gotten clean 'cause of you. Honey, you've got it made now."

"I know," she said, her voice breaking, "that's why I'm so afraid. I don't wanna let everyone down. I don't wanna lose everything. I don't... I don’t wanna lose you."

"Mavis," he said, pain in his voice, "I ain't goin' nowhere. I got the utmost faith in ya. I've seen you beat buffs a million times. Remember helpin' me get clean? You did that."

"I also remember getting you into buffs," she mumbled.

Turbo groaned almost imperceptibly. "Well," he said quietly, "that was a really long time ago. You can't blame yourself for that forever."

Mavis turned words over in her head for a minute, an awful numbness enveloping her. Slowly, carefully, she explained, "I… feel like my mind is back there… back in ‘a really long time ago’. I'm thinkin' about things I thought I moved past. And I'm reacting just how I used to. I'm bein' nasty. I'm hiding things. I'm hidin' myself. And I… I'm craving buffs to make it all go away. I feel like that guy punched me back in time."

Turbo considered that. "...What sorts of things are you thinkin' about? Is it… is it old Easter Egg stuff?"

Mavis squirmed, pointing her face away from him. "...Sorta," she said anxiously. "It's mostly just… me stuff. Like… thinkin' I'm not cut out for nice things, or-- or-- ...relationships. That I'm bound to screw things up eventually, no matter what. That everything… goes away."

"You know all that's not true."

"Not right now, I don't."

Turbo took a long pause to think, and Mavis was almost afraid of what those gears in his head would produce. "I don't believe you," he said plainly. "You still know everything you need to know. You can still follow your own advice. You're more qualified to help yourself than anybody, even me."

Stubbornly, drearily, Mavis shook her head. "No. I can help others just fine. Helping myself is a different story."

"Okay, well, in that case…" he offered slowly, "help me."

"...What?"

"What advice would you give me if I were in your shoes?"

Mavis half-scoffed uncomfortably, shaking her head. "I-- I dunno if I can…"

She heard his shoulders rub the wall as he shrugged. "Sure you can," he said coolly. "What would you say if, right now, I told you, 'Mav, I've got a problem. I'm havin' a real hard time and I'm missing buffs pretty bad. I miss the way it felt. I know they almost ruined my life, but I miss the good times. I miss takin' Heals with you, the way it'd feel when you touched me, and, ugh, the sex…"

As Mavis listened, she became more and more concerned. He was getting awfully specific, almost like it was not theoretical.

He continued, "...and how unstoppable I felt on Supers… but I'm worried that if I relapse, everyone will leave me. What do I do?'"

After a pause, Mavis asked tentatively, "Is any of that true?"

Turbo grunted. "Not all of it. I'm not actually tempted, but, y'know… I miss it sometimes. Just the feeling. Not enough to act on it, but still."

Mavis swallowed, her gaze low. "Yeah… me too," she muttered. "Usually, it's not a problem. It helps me relate to addicts who are struggling. But… tonight, it's just scary. It's too real."

"Well… call me an addict in crisis," he said, "and help me."

She wavered.

He prodded gently, "What if I believed all that awful stuff about myself…? What would you say?"

Mavis took a deep, steadying breath, squeezing her pant leg. The whole idea felt awkward and trivial, but she had to try, at least to let Turbo help her. She knew he needed to feel useful, so the least she could do was give him a chance. 

"Well…" she began tentatively, "first things first, I'd say… that you reachin' out for help was the first step in the right direction, so… you've already got one leg up on this."

Turbo merely listened, trusting her to guide herself through it.

"And… and I'd say that…" she swallowed, "that you're not bad or weak for missing the good times. Anyone would miss somethin' that made them feel good. But buffs… are like a false friend. They'll seem fun, and they'll promise to be there for you. But then they'll tear you down until you don't love yourself enough to leave. And when you do, they'll show up at your door years later promisin' that things would be different the second time around. But they're lyin'. Never listen to them."

Mavis found herself beginning to quake, so she took a deep, quivering breath to try to maintain her composure. It was then that the shower curtain crinkled and a grey hand extended in, looking for anything to hold. He found her knee, and, shaking, she took his hand in both of hers and worried her thumbs against it. Holding him for support, she unsteadily continued.

"And…  all the sprites who love you are the ones you should be reachin' for. Because they'll tell you the truth… That you deserve all the love in the world… the same as anybody else. You're not broken or unlovable or worthless. And if you can't take my word for it… then come to Buff Anon with me. We'll convince you."

She hit another snag, a much sharper one this time. Her face grew hotter than it already was, and a hefty lump formed in her throat. Awful pain shot through her left eye as the tears escaped, and she crushed her eyes shut against the sting. Turbo's fingers tightened around hers, and she squeezed back as she continued in a broken, teary voice.

"And I'd-- If it were you, I'd say--" she sniffed, "that even if you did end up relapsing… you'd be okay. The arcade is way better equipped to help you now. You wouldn't lose your game, or your jobs, or your friends, because… everyone knows you. They'd know when you're not yourself. And they wouldn't give up on you so easily."

Carefully, she kissed his hand. "And I'd tell you… that I'd carry you through this on my back if you asked me. Because I-- I love you more than anything. No amount of buffs could change that."

Turbo scrubbed his thumb against her hand, waiting for her to continue, but her words were running dry. Judging by how open the floodgates in her eyes were, the exercise had already hit its mark in ways she was not prepared for. She was emotionally raw, but she was done.

"And--" she muttered, sniffing, recalling Buff Anon's motto that stemmed from her own in-game catchphrase, "together, we can make it."

It took only a moment for Turbo to breathe, "Wow. I was just gonna say literally all of that."

A wet laugh broke from behind her teeth, and she carefully wiped away what wetness she could on her sleeve. "Not bad, T, not bad," she sighed, face aching with a smile. "You should lead a B.A. meeting sometime."

"Nah," he said, taking one of her hands and pulling it out of the tub. Warm lips pressed against her knuckle. "Everyone would be too captivated with me, and nothing would get done."

Mavis laughed quietly, and they both fell silent for a moment. Teardrops were still darkening the fabric on her knees, but the way Turbo's strong hands gently massaged her own was almost meditative. She tried to isolate the feeling, to focus on it and calm down.

Eventually, Turbo asked softly, "How ya feelin'?"

She drew a breath through her nose and sighed. "Better," she told him lowly. "I'm… still worried. But I'm not scared."

"I'd call that an improvement," he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "See? Didn't I tell ya you'd give the best advice?"

"You did," she smiled. "Which was good advice, too."

"I know," he said casually. "I'm basically a genius."

Mavis chuckled in her throat, and then, ever so slowly, she dared to lean her head back and peer out of her hiding spot. The gap had gotten even bigger with her arm passing through it, so she could see Turbo's entire face. He was looking her way, too, with a look of careful optimism. For a moment, they just looked at each other, and Mavis suddenly felt humbled with guilt over everything she had done since she got home. She knew very well that they had both done worse in the past, but in the present, she was supposed to know better. But she had been frightened and horribly triggered. She could only blame herself so much, and she tried very hard to remind herself of that. It was the same as what she would tell anyone.

Turbo spoke first, when it came to it.

"Hey," he breathed sweetly.

"Hey," Mavis echoed, her voice rough as she still softly cried.

He asked, "Ready to come out yet, tiger?"

She took a deep breath and decided that she was done with the night's bad experience haunting her actions. Talking it out had cleared her head, and it was time to start thinking straight again.

"Yeah," she nodded.

Turbo smiled, and promptly rose to his feet, guiding her upwards as well as he squeezed her hand. She pushed the shower curtain out of the way and stepped out of her hiding place, once again standing face to face with her best friend. Seeing the sincere look he gave her, she became so overwhelmed with love that it hurt, deep in her chest. Like a magnet, she stuck right to his body, hugging desperately tight. He returned the gesture, of course, and she found herself overflowing with tears again.

"I knew very well what I was gettin' into with you," he told her lovingly. "If the idea of you relapsing freaked me out enough to be a dealbreaker, I wouldn't be marryin' you, would I?"

Mavis merely sobbed almost silently, just strongly enough to make her body jump a bit in his arms. No matter how long it took him to get there, he always seemed to find just the right thing to say. It reminded her of the lessons she had learned over the course of her life, about her own worth and what she deserved. Once upon a time, she believed that she was not meant to have anything good. But even after thirty years, she still had him. And he was so good.

Steadily, her mind once again left the past behind her where it belonged. Her life was good. Her life was wonderful. And she deserved it.

For a time, they simply remained there in the bathroom, holding each other tightly and letting the emotional strain of the evening unwind and relax in the warmth they created. Turbo’s shoulder was wet with tears where Mavis had been resting her good cheek, but eventually, her tears ran dry, leaving only fine salty streaks down her skin. Her trembling body had found its stillness again.

Turbo rubbed her back deeply enough for her to feel the aches in her muscles crying to be kneaded out. He turned his head against hers the slightest bit, and whispered, “How we doin’?”

She waited, but nodded once. “Exhausted,” she sighed, “but I’ll be okay.”

“‘Course you will,” he patted her back a couple times, and then pulled back enough to look at her half-maimed face. He thought for a second, and then a lighthearted smile appeared. “Hey. I know somethin’ that might cheer you up.”

“What’s that?”

“Y’wanna see the commission I finished today?”

She perked up a bit, always interested in his machines and inventions. “Yeah, o'course!”

Finally, they both left the bathroom, and Turbo instructed her to go wait in the kitchen. She obeyed while he ducked into the garage for just a minute before coming back into view with a strange object in his hand. He crossed immediately to place it on the dinner table, and she wandered over to inspect it.

Mavis quirked a brow as she looked over the item. It was nothing that he had made before, to her recollection. It looked almost similar to a crystal ball on a base, only the ball was made of some kind of thin metal, maybe tin, with hundreds of chaotic punctures of varying size over its surface. It looked almost like it had been delicately shot with a tiny shotgun dozens of times. It did look well-made, but…

“What is it?” she asked curiously.

Turbo leaned his hand against the table casually. “Just a nightlight.”

Mavis blinked and gave him a bit of a look. Chuckling faintly, she confirmed, “A… nightlight.”

“Yeah,” he scratched under his chin. “Previously homeless sprite just moved into a dark game, but they’d only lived in a bright game before. I wouldn’t have accepted a commission for any ol’ lightbulb, but they told me to get fresh with it. Thought it’d be fun to just mess around.”

“Huh. Well, okay, then,” she reached for the switch on the base. “Let’s see it.”

Immediately, Turbo directed her hand away. “Ah, ah,” he held up a finger, “you go turn off the kitchen light, and I’ll turn it on.”

She scoffed. “Alright, your majesty,” she said with a smile before doing as instructed. She crossed to the wall by the fridge and flipped the switches down, plunging the entire floor in darkness that was disturbed only by thin slices of Turbo Time sunshine that made it around the blackout curtains. Turbo clicked his tongue once in that typical smug way to call her back over, and she returned to where those glowing eyes stood. To her confusion, though, he shook his head. 

“Move back a little bit,” he told her casually.

“What? Is it gonna blow up, or something?” she asked, almost hopefully.

“Nope, just…” he abandoned his sentence in favor of holding her shoulders and relocating her himself. She made only vague sounds of protest at first, but actually felt a twinge of irritation as he was intentionally indecisive over what specific inch she should have stood on.

“Okay, T,” she scolded him slightly, “cut it out and show me the damn thing, will ya?”

He pretended to inspect her position for one more second, before calling it perfect and leaving her to stand in the open space of floor that was not quite the kitchen or living room or dining room. Turbo returned to the table and, in the darkness, she could see him place his finger over the switch, but not press it. He sure was making a big deal out of a nightlight.

“Ready?” he asked playfully.

“Yes, T, I’m ready,” she rolled her eyes a bit. “I was ready when you brought it out, ya weirdo.”

He hummed, and then sang quietly, “Okay!”

The switched clicked, the device lit up, and she gasped.

Stars.

There were stars everywhere. They speckled the walls, the ceiling, the furniture, and her body with soft sprays of golden light. The darkness was not chased away, but it was filled with a safe, inviting warmth that felt like walking on the edge of sleep. Slowly, her eyes roamed along the map of spilled light across the ceiling, her jaw a little slack with awe. It was such a simple thing, but it was so much more beautiful than she had expected.

“Oh… my Devs,” she finally managed to say, laughing incredulously. She looked over at Turbo, who had not moved at all, but was watching her with a grin as smug as ever. “T! What the hell -- this is awesome!”

He gave a hearty chuckle. “Oh, you like that?” he reached for the base again. “Well, check this out.”

Another switch clicked, and just like that, the sea of stars began to slowly swim around the room. It was as simple as the metal ball rotating, but what it did to the light was almost dizzyingly beautiful. The golden, glowing stars drifted at a leisurely, loving pace, finding something wonderful to say about everything they touched. They danced over the trophies lined on the wall, stretching and crowding over the sloping surfaces. Passing over the glass on the cabinets, they refracted into shimmering clusters like tiny fireworks. Mavis turned herself along with them, her hands twitching up towards her mouth. 

Eventually, in her turning, her eyes fell on Turbo again. He was still leaning against the table, his arms folded as he watched her. The smugness in his smile had softened into quiet admiration.

"So, star expert," he said, "what's the verdict?"

"Hah," she breathed, glancing around again. "It's… it's beautiful. Honestly, this might be my favorite thing you've made."

He whistled. "That's some mighty praise for a nightlight."

Mavis smiled and crossed over to the table again. She watched the globe of the wonderful invention turn lazily, blinking when the beams met her eyes. She held out her hand to see its oversized silhouette against the wall, and noticed the way the stars streaked along the band of her engagement ring like tiny shooting stars. When she turned her hand over, the ring's rainbow of gems all came to life as the light danced gleefully through the sparkling facets. 

"Damn," she whispered in awe.

Next to her, Turbo exhaled a single chuckle through his nose.

Mavis looked up at the tightest circle of stars that peppered the ceiling so finely, suddenly finding herself so wistful. For all her life, she had loved stars. She had written at least a dozen songs about them. But her relationship with them was… complicated. Not always happy. It was often that well of conflicting feelings that had made the stars so captivating, so addictive in a softly masochistic way, like how one may have habitually picked their skin or pulled out their hair. 

On a good day, stars filled her mind with inspiration, with beautiful dreams of what life could bring. On a bad day, they were only a reminder of how trapped she was. How trapped everyone was.

But that night, in her home, there was no bad side. There was only beauty.

"I love stars," she sighed quietly.

"I know you do," Turbo muttered.

"They're the one thing that I miss about living in my game. Lying in my den and looking up at the stars."

"Not many stars in sunny Turbo Time," Turbo added. "Y'know, except for me."

Mavis scoffed.

"And you, I guess."

She looked at him, instantly filled with warmth from the way he looked back at her so peacefully, so contentedly. A sassy Turbo was a happy Turbo, and she was relieved to hear him cracking jokes again. The stars ran over the contours of his face, painting his grey skin into a hazy night sky, and waking the deep garnet tones of his well-hidden pupils. Many would not have called him beautiful, but Mavis did. Not just in his looks, either, but from the harmony he brought into her life. Looking at him then, everything seemed right. She was right where she was meant to be.

Suddenly, an epiphany washed over her, and all the worries of that night were swept away. But for the time being, she would keep it to herself, just to let it sink in and enjoy the moment for what it was.

So she merely smiled at him, and once again winced at the pain in her cheek. "You're hilarious, you know that?"

"I do," he shrugged.

Mavis turned around and leaned against the table next to him, which prompted him to wrap an arm around her. Glancing over at him, she added softly, "And you make some pretty amazing things."

He smiled and chuckled with a hint of smugness. "What can I say? I'm the best in the biz. Gotta keep the customers happy."

"Well," she laughed quietly, "no complaints from me, either."

Mavis looked back out across the room to peacefully watch the sea of stars swirl around the room. There was another dark silhouette cut into the drifting light, that of herself and her partner side by side, as they ought to have been. Then the shadows joined into one as she laid her head against his shoulder. Tingles swelled in her chest, and she sighed them out happily.

"So," she said calmly, "how much for you to make me one of these?"

Turbo scoffed. "How much? You wanna pay me?"

"Yeah, I mean, it's your work. It's your time. Don't go givin' me special treatment."

He shook her playfully a bit. "Mav, we're gettin' married next month. You're gettin' some special treatment."

"Oh, pfft," she blew, "matrimony. It's only a ceremony binding our lives together in the eyes of the Devs and the entire arcade forever. Big deal."

Turbo laughed. "You're just dreadin' it, aren't ya?"

Mavis shrugged. "Honestly, I might not even show up."

Chuckling through his teeth, he squeezed her shoulders and kissed her head. "Yeah, I'm excited, too," he nearly whispered.

Sighing dreamily, she snaked an arm behind him and held his soft waist. "Can't wait."

Another happy silence fell between them, broken only by the low, muffled hum of the machine running behind them. But before too long, Turbo drew in a sharp breath.

"Y'know what you could do to pay me back?" he sort of sighed.

"Hm?"

He stepped away from her side to instead stand in front of her. He held both of her hands and looked at her with a face full of sincerity. "Let me take you to Dr. Mario," he insisted gently, "before the arcade opens."

Mavis had hoped it would have been some owed salacious act, but was not surprised at all. However, when she came to consider it, she found that the fear had abated. Plus, she was very ready to not be in pain. She blinked at him and smiled tiredly.

"Okay," she nodded.

A bit of light came into his exhausted face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Yes," he sighed. "Finally."

With a tug on her hands, he pulled her into a hug that spun slowly, like a formless dance. She squeezed back, happy to see him so relieved. The poor man deserved a break from all the drama she had brought home with her.

A few moments passed, and Turbo pulled back far enough to see her face. He smiled at her so fondly, and she could not help but return the gesture. But he hesitated, his gaze repeatedly falling to her lips.

"So," he whispered almost sheepishly, "if I kiss you now, is it just gonna hurt again?"

"Ah," she fluttered her lashes and huffed, "yeah, it probably will."

Turbo smiled faintly, and let his eyes follow the lights along the walls. "Yeah," he sighed dramatically, "I figured."

But looking at him standing there, dappled in the light, she could hardly resist anymore. "But…" she breathed, lifting a hand to his cheek and directing his gaze back to her, "...do it anyway."

There was a glimmer of adoration in his eyes as he breathed a short, sighing laugh. "Alright then, tiger."

He had started to lean in, but he stopped when Mavis cleared her throat. Skirting her thumb over his cheek, she whispered a reminder. "Gently."

"Hah," he laughed silently. "I'll try."

Mavis then felt a strong, rough hand snake around behind her neck and cradle the back of her head, and found her heart thumping a bit harder than it normally would. Slowly, carefully, he drew in close, checking her reactions. Then he lingered in range of her breath, apparently making the most of taking his time. Mavis' face was growing hot, which only made her cheek throb harder, but she did not care. There was something about the careful anticipation that sent her heart reeling. It threw her right back to their early days, when they were only just learning how to kiss at all. How new and exciting it had all been.

Most of the vivid memories of the past had departed for the night, but those ones were welcome to stay.

Finally, she closed her eyes, and upon feeling the slightest brush against her lips, she pushed back gingerly. The kiss was barely there, hard enough only to maintain contact, but it squeezed a slow sigh out of her and sent her head swimming. Every moment or so, they would break apart, but softly join again to keep the moment alive, kissing peacefully in the light of the stars he made.

Immediately after their little romantic break, Mavis and Turbo set out for Dr. Mario’s hospital. For the walk there, Mavis reapplied her painted disguise so as to not draw attention, but of course glitched out of it once face-to-face with the mustachioed doctor. When he asked them what happened, Mavis sorrowfully told him the truth, knowing it was the best thing to do for all parties. Hopefully, it would be the push that kickstarted the soldier’s recovery. Dr. Mario offered to tell Calhoun and the crew about it, but she intended to tell them herself. She could not be afraid of any facets of her self-assigned job, or she would not be completely prepared to help those in need of it. 

They were brought immediately into a slightly lower-lit hall with beds and monitors in curtained-off sections. Once assigned to a bed, Mavis sat on it and allowed the doctor to examine her. Judging by her swelling and extreme tenderness, he felt confident to say that there was, indeed, a crack in her cheekbone, but it would not take long to mend. He cleaned off all the dried blood as gently as he could, poured what felt like liquid fire on the wound, and began stitching up the deep gouges in her cheek to make sure they closed properly during the buff treatment. It stung badly enough to bring tears to her eyes, but the needle was so fine and he worked so deftly, it was not the worst to sit through. Devs knew that she had been through worse.

“Thank you for’a keeping still,” Dr. Mario muttered as he held her face steady anyways, “that’s’a more than I can expect from’a most’a my patients.”

“Yea--”

“Don’t’a talk, please.”

Mavis rolled her eyes a bit. He always did this.

“Mavis, I can see when you’a roll your eyes at’a me,” he said flatly as he worked.

“Don’t worry, Mav,” Turbo said from his seat behind the doctor, “he can’t watch us both at once.” He then gave a very exaggerated roll of the eyes. Mavis quivered with the effort to not grin.

“You’re a’funny guy, Turbo,” he said even flatter.

With that, he finished off the stitches, and started preparing the IV drip full of diluted healing buffs. A slight jolt of adrenaline zapped Mavis' heart. What she had been fearing all night was about to begin. Even though she had come to her senses, having buffs in her system always made her at least a little nervous… the events of the night just seemed to irritate that.

But as he went through the preparations, Dr. Mario hummed in thought.

"What's up, Doc?" Mavis asked tentatively.

"Oh, I was just a'thinking that it was'a funny thing to a'compare then and'a now," he explained calmly and nostalgically without looking away from his work. "I used to'a treat you for overdose a'more than any other a'patient. Yet, today you are a'here because you tried to a'save someone else a'from overdose."

Mavis blinked. She had not actually thought of it that way. Back in her worst, most buff-fueled days, she never would have believed that she could have made it so far. But something in his wording pulled her out of her thought bubble.

"'Tried?'" she asked anxiously. "What's that mean? Is he alright?"

"Ah, now, now, now," he took her right hand and began wiping the back of it with a wet, sharp-smelling swab. "He's a'fine. He's a'my responsibility now. Relax -- you should'a be proud."

Mavis' eyes immediately drifted to Turbo, who was crossing his arms and smiling warmly. With a slow blink, he nodded in agreement.

Heat danced around inside her chest. Mostly, she had been doing her job, only doing what she knew would keep everyone safe. But when she thought of it like Dr. Mario said… she really was proud.

"Well," she smiled, "proud to make things better than they were for me."

"So should'a we all," the doctor said, positioning the grotesquely long needle over the back of her hand. She looked to Turbo again hoping for one last vote of support, and she received it in the form of an encouraging eyebrow raise and a thumbs up.

Breathing deeply, she reminded herself why she had nothing to fear.

Then the needle broke her skin, and she winced as it delved deep down the back of her hand. After making sure he had hit the proper vein, Dr. Mario taped down what still stuck out and gathered his things.

"Now, ah, you should a'have four hours or so until you are a'fully healed," he said, checking his charts and jotting something down. He pulled aside a curtain and said over his shoulder, "I'll check in now and a'then. Ring the buzzer if a'you need a'something."

"Alright," she nodded. "Thanks, Doc."

With that, the doctor went about his business elsewhere. Mavis laid herself down on her side carefully, practically hearing her weary body creak and relishing that sweet relief of finally being horizontal. Nestling her good cheek into the cool, hospital-blue pillow, she peered at Turbo. He was watching her tiredly with a faint smile, abnormally silent.

“Hey, you,” she prodded.

“Heya, tiger,” he sighed.

“You’ve been awful quiet.”

“Hah, well. Don’t get too used to it,” he shrugged, his gaze idly wandering.

She paused. Then she said slowly and sincerely, “I know this ain’t your favorite place in the world. I really appreciate you bein' here.”

Turbo shrugged with a fleeting, distant smile. “Nah, s’nothin’. I ain’t scared of a crummy hospital,” he stretched in his chair, and fell slack with a sigh. “It’s just, ah… this was always the toughest part of it, for me. Sittin’ around in here n’ just waitin’ to hear if you’d live through the night. Wonderin’ how many more chances you’d get, always thinkin’ y’were on your last… Y’know. The works.”

“I know,” Mavis agreed gently. The memory was a haunting one, but thankfully, it still felt pretty far away. The guilt of ever putting him through that had been tough to cut down to size, but she had seen very well just what addiction did to sprites’ minds. He suffered because she suffered. She muttered, “I remember how upset you’d get.”

“Yeah, well. Little boys get angry when they feel things they don’t want to feel.”

“Not so different from little girls,” she half-smiled.

Turbo looked at her with a clear honesty that seemed almost humble for him. “The Doc’s right, though,” he told her. “I never thought buffs would land you in the hospital like this. You survived all that, and you’ve come so damn far. You’d better be proud a’ that, ‘cause Devs know I am.”

Tingling warmth fizzled in Mavis’ chest at his words, and she nuzzled her slightly heated cheek deeper into the pillow. Casting a sweet smile with her eyes, she said, “Thanks, Sugar. And trust me, I am.”

“Damn right,” he nodded.

They watched each other for just a minute, but it did not take Mavis long to decide that she would not be robbed of all time allotted to lie with him that night. Even if it was technically morning by then, with the arcade’s opening fast approaching.

“Y’know,” she said coyly, “there’s no rule about touchin' me this time around… and this bed’s pretty damn cold.”

Turbo scoffed, but a real grin appeared on his face. “Well, it sucks to be you, then.”

“It really does.”

He feigned a dramatic sigh as he stood and trudged around to the bedside behind her. Mavis heard a click and a creak as he lowered the guard rail, and felt the skinny bed rattle as he climbed aboard and situated himself. With hardly any other space to go, he squeezed his warm body right up against the back of hers, melting into her shape. A deep breath blew down the back of her neck, and she knew he must have been glad to lie down, too.

“Happy now?” he mock-grumbled.

“Hmm,” she hummed happily. “It’ll do.”

“The things I do for love,” he sighed, squeezing her back against him and planting a kiss on her shoulder. He patted around for a hand, but found her right first, which was occupied by a needle and tube. He grunted a bit as if he had just remembered something. “How's the IV?”

Mavis was just beginning to feel the effects of the healing buffs. The pain in her face was slowly starting to drain out. A sort of fuzziness enveloped her body and her mind, and left her lazily floating ever deeper into a state of bliss. It was the gentlest, most helpful effects of Heals, isolated from the code-scrambling excess.

"It's good," she purred. "Real good."

"Not too good, I take it?" he asked optimistically.

"Nah," she said, "I forgot how easy this stuff is. Besides, I know for sure that I ain't gonna relapse, now."

She felt Turbo perk up a bit. "Do ya, now? What changed your mind?"

Smiling to herself, she found his hand and held it to your chest. She pondered calmly just how to word her reason. But the answer to the question was easy enough.

"The nightlight."

Turbo paused. "Really? How's that?"

Playing with his fingers, she explained steadily, "Well, it's pretty simple. I used to look up at the stars and wish more than anything that I could fly past them and be free of this place. But that was impossible, so… buffs were my escape. Deep down, that was always why I used them. But now, I can look at my life and say…"

She squeezed his hand. "I don't want to escape this anymore. I'm happy right where I am. So why would I ever turn to buffs again?"

"...Huh…" he thoughtfully kissed the back of her neck. "And you got all that outta my swirly lights."

"That's right."

She felt him nod slowly. "I knew it'd work," he said quietly but triumphantly. "Just as I planned."

Looking back over her shoulder, she asked disbelievingly, "Did you really?"

"No," he smiled brightly, a slight chuckle in his voice. "I just knew it'd cheer you up."

She smirked. "Aw."

"Still," he squeezed her, "that's all great news, baby. I'm glad to hear it, for real. But if you'll permit me one question…"

"Shoot."

He squinted at her with a suspicious smile. "Do you mean to say that Make-it Mavis of a Million Dreams, if given the opportunity to see the world outside the arcade, would pass it up?"

"Oh, no, pfft," she answered immediately. "Pfft. As if. You know I'd clear outta here faster than Sonic with a flame on his ass."

Turbo sighed in exaggerated relief. "Phew. I'd have been worried if you said literally anything else."

She hissed a chuckle through her teeth, and began to strain her neck, so she laid her cheek back down on her pillow. "I'd come back, though," she told him softly. "This is where I belong."

No reply came from Turbo at first. He merely waited, and then slowly and tenderly nuzzled his nose through her hair and against her neck. Stroking his thumb against the ring on her finger, he whispered, "Damn right."

She smiled and sighed deeply. The love in her heart was nearly too much to handle. But then another thought occurred to her. A lovely idea.

"Y'know," she said thoughtfully, "when you make my lil' nightlight thing, I think I'll bring it to Buff Anon. I bet it'd get some good discussion going. And I'm sure everyone could use a little starlight."

Turbo took a moment to consider that, and then shifted to lean his body away from hers. "Mav," he said, a warning in his voice, "I'm gonna say somethin' gross."

"Oh, no," she gasped in dread.

"I'm gonna do it."

"Please don't."

"Here it comes."

"Devs, help me."

He scooched in snugly against her again and whispered in her ear, "Don't they get enough starlight with you around?"

A tickling shudder ran up her spine, and she instantly clutched her chest as if she had been stabbed. "No! Oh, yich! Blech!" she spat.

Turbo joined in her protests, dramatically throwing himself around and moaning in disgust. "Augh, nooo! Oh Devs, nasty! Uuugh, what have I done?!"

Mavis bent her knees up and hugged her stomach as Turbo draped his groaning self over her. "Oh, I'm gonna be sick!" she wailed. "He's killed me! Ohh, he's killed me!"

They were both cut short by the sharp clink of curtains being pushed open, and the slight of Dr. Mario's confused and alarmed face. Once he understood the scene, however, his expression fell flat and unimpressed.

"Turbo," he boredly scolded, "please a'don't torment a'my patients. There will be a'plenty of a'time for that after you are a'married. Hoo-hoo." He chuckled at his own joke, looking down at his clipboard.

"Joke's on you, Doc," Turbo countered, "I've been tormentin' her for thirty years!"

"Oh! Speakin' of which," Mavis piped in, "you're comin' to the weddin', right?"

Dr. Mario laughed dryly. "Cute of a'you to assume I ever a'get a night off."

"But it's not at night, not the ceremony, at least," Turbo insisted. "It's on a holiday -- the arcade will be closed."

"Surge let us have all of Game Central for it," Mavis added proudly. "It's gonna be a historic event, Doc, you can't miss it."

He did not look up from his charts. "Oh, I'm a'sure I'll hear all about it from whatever a'victims of a' wedding mishaps end up in a'here."

"I have no idea what you mean," Mavis said, choosing to deny any presence of fireworks.

"Come on, Doc, after all we been through, you don't wanna come watch us get hitched?" Turbo whined.

Mavis joined in, shooting him her best puppy eyes. "Pleeaase, Doc?"

Dr. Mario lifted a finger to silence them, looking at them from under his raised, thick brows. "I will a'try," he allowed, stepping back to pull the curtain shut. "But no a'promises."

Once his footsteps faded down the hall, Mavis looked at Turbo. "He ain't comin', is he?"

"S'pose we just wait n' see," Turbo shrugged. He looked her over, and said, "He's right, though. I oughtta stop buggin' you n' let you get some sleep."

Her eyelids were admittedly getting heavy, thanks in part to the shaded lighting and relaxing buffs. Sleeping off her whole experience sounded all too inviting. Still, she looked at him hopefully.

"Will you stay with me?" she asked. "I know you don't have much time now, but maybe you could take a power nap before you gotta go. Y'look exhausted, babe."

He snickered tiredly. "Nah. I ain't gettin any shut-eye here. 'Sides, I'm runnin' on more sleep than you."

That much was true.

"But I'll stay," he added softly, getting comfortable behind her again. "I won't be here when you wake up, but, y'know… I'll be here when you fall asleep."

She smiled. “I can live with that,” she muttered. “Let’s just take the night off after today, though. Get takeout, eat ice cream, watch TV…”

He yawned wide, baring those sharp golden teeth like a big cat. “Sounds killer. How’s about we do most of that in bed, yeah?”

Twisting her arm around to where he had propped himself up, she cupped his cheek and guided his head down to kiss just beside his mouth. “You got a deal,” she whispered dreamily. She released him and turned away once more, preparing to surrender happily to sleep and bring about a new day. “Love you, T.”

“You ain’t bad, either,” he muttered, and in his unwitting sleepiness, he kissed her healing cheek. Once he realized, she felt him startle a bit. “Oh-- damn it, that was the wrong cheek, wasn’t it?”

“Hm? Oh, no, it’s ‘kay, sugar…” It was, in fact, the wrong cheek, but Mavis only noticed that it should have hurt once he pointed it out. The Heals were doing their job quite splendidly. The pain in her battered cheek had drained away completely, along with all the aches in her joints and muscles she barely knew she had been carrying, and the anxious sickness in her belly that had plagued her all evening. With the bad diminished, the good shone through. Being snugly tucked beneath his arm, her whole body tingling gently from his heat on her back that rivaled a cozy fireplace, feeling his slow breathing, and even the rumbling beat of his heart… It all wrapped around her body and sank her slowly down, gently immersing her in sleep. Before she lost consciousness, she managed to finish reassuring Turbo in a voice hazy with sleep.

“...It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

She let go, and felt a final forceful pull that brought her down over her head. The world disappeared, replaced only with warm, calm waters that let her float just beneath the gently rippling surface. In the deeper waters beneath her, she could hear dreams echoing and calling for her to join them. But there were other noises, muffled and distant, keeping her afloat.

There was beeping, like little chirping bugs. Soft clinking and rattling, low bubbling notes that may have been voices once upon a time. A bigger, itchy voice that sounded like shifting sand saying something like, “Attention… open in one hour… would all visitors please…”

Then her hand was wrapped in warmth, and she heard whispers from a voice that she knew even in sleep. “I’ll see ya later,” echoed over the feeling of a kiss pressed to her temple.

“Starlight.”

[dynamite-derek]

My personal top-10 games of 2017

With 2017 slowly fading, it feels like my favorite games of the year are locked firmly in place. 2017 was a strong year and while it was hard compiling a list of my favorite games, I also feel pretty good about my list. That said, there are some games that I didn’t get around to playing that I feel had a good chance of making my list if I had gotten around to them. They are: Nioh, Resident Evil VII, Trails in the Sky 3 and Golf Story. After I finish Xenoblade Chronicles 2, I think I wanna tackle RE VII. Alas. Only so much time in the day. So, let’s get started.

10-) Splatoon 2 - Not the most original sequel ever made, but I had a lot of fun with it. Splatoon 2 carries a lot of what made the first one so great over to the Switch. There are some new features - including new weapons and a wave-based mode where a squad of human players takes on AI called Salmon Run - but it’s mostly more of the same. Given that this is only the second Splatoon I can look past that. I had a lot of fun with it and am happy that people who couldn’t experience the original on the Wii U can fool around with it now.

9-) Tekken 7 - I have a lot of love for the Tekken series. I remember renting and playing Tekken 3 for hours. I once wrote a way-too-long column about how Tekken 5 was like a love letter to fans. 7 was just a really solid new addition to the franchise. The character customization was super deep and allowed for very unique feeling takes on familiar fighters. It also has both Akuma and Geese, which is the closest we’ll ever get to a Capcom vs. SNK 3 it feels like. 

8-) Sonic Mania - I don’t buy into the belief that there has never been a good 3D Sonic game and I certainly don’t buy into there never being ANY good Sonic games. That said, I will definitely say that the series has had far more spotty entries than good ones. When I first beat it, I think I suggested that it was better than Sonic 3 and Knuckles. That’s insane. A Sonic game in 2017 is at least on par with 3+K, a game many consider to be the best Sonic game ever. And it’s made by fans! If I had to describe my experience with Sonic Mania in one word it’d be: joy. Shame Sonic Forces also came out this year, robbing me of all my blue blur joy.

7-) The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild - It feels insane to me that Zelda is only ranked at 7, but that’s how strong 2017 was to me personally. Breath of the Wild brought an entirely fresh feeling to the very stale Zelda franchise. Honestly, I hated Skyward Sword. I didn’t have a whole lot of hype for Zelda. If it wasn’t a launch game with the Switch, I might have waited to give it a go. ...Obviously the hype around it would have brought me in eventually. And it was totally different. It brought a world that was fun to explore with mechanics that were fun to tinker and experiment with. For weeks, people would post videos of them doing weird things with the various objects in the game. It’ll be interesting to see what a new Zelda game does. Will it be another big open world? Is this the new face of Zelda? 

6-) Cuphead - Aesthetically one of my favorite looking games ever made. It legitimately looks like a 1920′s era cartoon in motion. The visuals only aid in how great the game plays. It not only has a retro aesthetic, but in the gameplay department it also brings with it a retro-feeling difficulty. You have to memorize boss patterns, look for visual cues and have a quick trigger finger in order to survive. With the difficulty also comes the sheer joy of beating boss that is just dominating the hell out of you. I feel like I struggled for over an hour on this clown boss. I almost feel like I got lucky even beating him. His stupid charlie horses always popped up at inappropriate times. But when I managed to win, it felt like I really accomplished something. My only complaint about it is that I wish there were no run-and-gun levels. I just wanted to not play them and get back to the boss battles. They felt like an after-thought. 

5-) Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony - I did not see this game hitting me as hard as it did. I enjoyed the first two Danganronpas and even endured the anime, which served as a conclusion to the storyline that played out in the first two. DRV3 plays much like the first two games, but where it shines is the story. A big twist occurs in the first chapter and the hits just keep coming after that.Then chapter 6 hits and brings with it one of the best plot twists and endings I have ever seen in a video game. I’m not going to spoil the ending in case a person who wants to play DRV3 stumbles across this list somehow, but the last couple hours of the game hits the player hard and makes you think about narrative and story telling in general in a really interesting way. One of my favorite bits towards the end involves real life things about the game, like the logo. It’s just well thought out and compelling. Even if you’ve never played a Danganronpa, play this game. It also introduced my favorite character of the year Kokichi Ouma.

4-) Nier Automata - A sequel to Nier making my personal top-10 list probably isn’t that shocking. What is shocking is that Nier Automata has garnered praise from all over the gaming world and has become something of a surprise hit for Square Enix. There’s a good reason for this. Automata’s visual style, amazing music and depressing story telling help create a compelling world for the player. The story, as everybody is probably aware, is the real star of the show. It makes you ponder about life and humanity in ways rarely touched on in video games. One of the endings to the game, E, is one of the most effective ever. It really speaks to the player. I’m sure I’m not alone in sitting at the decision you need to make and really pondering it. The gameplay is also solid, but honestly a little weak for a Platinum game. Nier Automata feels like a miracle of a game and I’m thrilled that it has taken off as much as it has.

3-) Super Mario Odyssey - This game was just a pure delight. For years, it felt like they just weren’t making Mario games I was terribly interested in. I would never say Mario 3D World was a bad video game, but it just wasn’t what I wanted out of a Mario. It felt like a 2D Mario game in everything but the 3D gameplay. Mario Odyssey brings back the big worlds filled with objects to find seen in 64, Sunshine and Galaxy. The worlds were all really interesting too. I think everybody was excited to see New Donk City (Metro Kingdom), but to actually run around a realistic looking world as Mario really just feels surreal. It’s just great. It’s interesting to think about how Nintendo’s two biggest franchises took two different but equally successful approaches. Zelda completely flipped the script and tried to do something different. Mario refined what made some older Mario games great. Mario felt like a really polished Mario game, and honestly most years that will put it up there as one of the best games of the year.

2-) Yakuza 0 - I had always wanted to try to get into the Yakuza series before this year. The story just seemed too daunting to get into. There’s a lot of it, after all. I decided to give Yakuza 0 a shot because of its nature as the first chronologically in the series. I also saw hilarious screenshots, which helped to further my decision. I was hooked. Yakuza 0 not only tells an amazing story, but it gives you a world with a ton of things to do. There are amazing mini games - I found myself hooked to the Maid Cafe in particular - and a ton of sub stories to experience. You get to meet characters like NOT MICHAEL JACKSON, you can play Outrun, you can become a real estate mogul. Honestly, Yakuza 0 does a better job of creating what feels like a living, breathing city than even a Grand Theft Auto. Also, I just love Goro Majima. This game was so good that I played through Yakuza 1(Kiwami)-5 just to see what would happen to Kiryu and Majima. That’s not an insignificant chunk of playing time. But the world and story weaved by Yakuza 0 was so strong that I knew I wanted to be along for the ride. Play these games. 

1-) Persona 5 - I had to think long and hard about whether Yakuza would top Persona. In the end, I honestly feel both games are among my favorite games ever made. Persona 5 seems like a title that was made specifically for me. It is amazingly slick, has some of the best music I’ve ever heard in a video game (Specifically Rivers in the Desert), and features a cast of characters that I really deeply cared about. I wanted to see more of their lives and I was actually sad when Persona 5 ended because I knew it’d be a while before I saw Makoto Niijima or Yusuke Kitagawa again. There are things I’d like to see Persona 6 work on - it’d be great to see your confidants interact with more people for instance - but Persona 5 was a gripping experience and really spoke to me at times. And honestly, sometimes it’s fun to turn your brain off and just grind against demons in a dungeon. It was a close race, but I knew Persona 5 would be my favorite game of the year before the year started. It’s nice to be right for a change.

That’s all for now. I know this is tl;dr, but I wanted to write out my favorite games somewhere. 

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Pond family rescue; 11th doctor x teen reader

This was my first Doctor who request on Wattpad and I made this story into quite an epic piece b/c it almost felt like a real episode in a way :) I hope you guys feel the same as your reading it. No warnings really just some butt-kicking action with the 11th doctor MY doctor and the Ponds feat. river song :)

__________________________________________________________

A young woman around 18-19 years old was being forcefully dragged down a corridor like a rag doll by her arms by 2 guards with a single eye patch over their left eyes. The girl had looked like he had come out of a wrestling ring for if you moved her matted (h/c) from her face, you could see the bruises and dried blood all over her face.

The guards opened up a cell door and threw her into the cell like she was trash as one of them said.

"Sooner or later you'll talk, you can't protect them forever". The cell door then closed and was bolted and locked to ensure she didn't escape.

It was then the girl smirked a famous grin that she had inherited from her mother.

She took out a transmitter and sent out a distress signal.One for the past and the other in the future.

*Insert epic Doctor Who intro*

Somewhere in Transylvania the time of Vlad the Impaler.

The Doctor and the Ponds entered inside the TARDIS just in time before an army could catch up to them and the Doctor quickly set up the TARDIS for take off then as it made it's famous noise and disappeared just before the army could reach it. The Doctor and the Ponds all took a deep breath of relief and Rory said.

"Was it really necessary to piss of Vlad the Impaler like that?"

"Hey don't blame me Rory, after he was hitting on a married woman". Amy sassed.

"Well better late than never, at least we managed to escape before he could do his famous impaling trick on us, and boy would I not look good with a spear thrust through my body" the Doctor said as he operated the controls. "Okay so where to next?"

"Uhh just a moment Doctor, I think the TARDIS is picking up something" Amy said as she looked at the small screen to see something flying towards them almost at light speed. The Doctor came up behind Amy and instantly knew who it was.

"Okay brace yourself for impact, Rory open the door when I say".

"Doctor what is....." Rory started.

"Just do as I tell you okay?" Rory rolled his eyes but went towards the door and the Doctor came up in front of the door and said, "ready......now!" Rory opened the door and the Doctor was immediately tackled by a woman flying into the TARDIS.

"Hello Sweetie". She said with a grin as she lifted herself up hovering over him.

"River Song" said The Doctor. River stood up and helped the Doctor stand up.

"River what are you doing here?" Amy asked.

"Can't I just drop by every now and again?" River teased.

"Well not that we're not happy to see you, but why are you here exactly?" Rory asked. River then turned to the doctor and said to him.

"I came to see if you had already received this". She ran over to the controls and overplaying on the speakers was a female voice that said.

"The Doctor and River, The Doctor and River".

"Who is that?" Amy asked.

"Where is she?" The Doctor asked urgently.

"That's why I'm here". River said. She took out her sonic screwdriver and soon the message came as."

The Doctor and River Song, Madam Kovarein has returned. The Doctor and River Song, Madam Kovarein has returned".

"That can't be possible can it?" Amy asked worriedly.

"I'm afraid it's true and she's got her".

"Now who is her exactly?" Rory asked. River looked at The Doctor with a surprised accusation look.

"You never told them?"

"Told us what?" Rory asked.

"Now's not a good time to talk, right now we've got a rescue mission. River help me find the coordinates on where the transmission came from on where they're keeping her, Amy and Rory prepare yourself for a wild ride". As Amy and Rory walked away from them River leaned in and whispered.

"I can't believe you haven't told them yet".

"I just didn't think it would be right, at least not yet".

"They're gonna find out one way or another, might as well let it be now. Don't want her to be upset now do you, after all she's worse than me".

"And that's why I always tried to spoil her, I already have my hands full with you".

"You say that like it's a bad thing".

"It's not, not really, but I'd rather her be happy than let her to have her mother's temper".

"Well you know the old expression, 'Like Mother, like daughter' you've seen where I get some of my attitude from". They both looked over at Amy then looked at each other.

"I just hope we're not too late".

"We'll save her my love, but she can handle herself, she's been trained by the best after all" River assured him while grinning at her last statement. The Doctor smiled and nodded then pulled the lever and off the TARDIS went flying into time and space.

*FF has been brought to you by Time and Space*

As the TARDIS landed quietly at the signal of the transmitted message the Doctor asked.

"Why didn't it make that sound I love that sound?"

"I told you before my love, you just leave the breaks on". River teased as she ran towards the door.

"I still love that sound" The Doctor muttered before following River with Amy and Rory behind him.

They snuck around the base as the Doctor pointed his sonic screwdriver out hoping to get a reading of where exactly in the base the transmission was sent from.

"Do you have a reading?" River asked.

"Yes, coming from over there in that cell". They ran towards the cell and the Doctor pointed his screwdriver at the door till it unlocked and opened the door to reveal a horrifying sight.

A young woman lying unconscious and still.

The Doctor and River ran up towards the lying body and River slowly turned the body onto it's back only to see a young girl beaten so senseless that her face was almost barely recognizable but her hair was the same color and put in the same style as the girl that they both knew.

They looked at each other sadly begging to above that this wasn't how they would find her.

River placed her two fingers against the girl's neck and knew it was her worst fear.

There was no heartbeat.

She closed her eyes holding in her tears before looking at the Doctor who muttered.

"No....." It was then Amy cried out.

"Doctor! River!" They turned around only to see Amy and Rory held by guards with guns pointed at the Ponds plus more guards pointing their guns at them.

"Madam Kovarein has been expecting you both" a female guard sneered.

The Doctor and River could only glare at the guard in front of them.

The Ponds, River and the Doctor were soon guided into a main control room of the base where sitting on a chair was Madam Kovarein herself with her legs crossed over and her hands placed together over her mouth.

"Well, well, well, look who decided to finally pop in for tick". She mocked.

River and the Doctor only glared daggers at her.

"Now, now darlings what's with the harsh stares".

"You know damn well know why!" River hissed as she struggled to get out of the guard's grip but he held her back.

"Oooo, feisty, temper, temper dearie". Kovarein tsked.

"Why did you do it?" The Doctor hissed.

"Do what?"

"You know what I mean why did you kill her!?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about".

"Don't lie to me you used her to get to us so why kill her!?"

"My, my Doctor dear, I may be cruel but you know I would never kill her. But at least she did complete one thing before her supposed death, she brought you two to me, at last". Just before anything could happen, one of the guards went rogue.

The same guard who spoke to them before released Amy's arm and elbowed the other guard hard in the nose. She then knocked out the two guards holding Rory before firing her gun at the other guards.

Not to kill but to severely wound or stun.She then aimed her gun at Madam Kovarein.

"I'm sorry," her voice soon started sounded robotic as her face became digitalized. Then like removing thin pieces of paper skin, the guard then turned into the girl from before with her face still covered in bruises and she removed her wig and stated again. "Did I step on your moment?"

"Impossible".

"And by the way Doctor lovely speech, you too River felt really moving" she turned towards the Doctor and River who stared at her completely baffled. "And as for you Madam Kovarein, I'm letting you live this once, but if I catch you trying to get near the Doctor or the Ponds again, you can damn well be sure I won't be so nice, sweetie". She sneered her last word as Madam Kovarein just stared at the young girl in fear.

Then she walked away urging the Ponds and the Doctor to follow her back to the TARDIS.

As they got inside, Amy asked.

"Not to sound pushy but who are you? And why did Kovarein let us go like that?"

"You haven't told them about me?" The girl asked the Doctor.

"Unfortunately no sweetie, but you can tell them if you'd like". River answered for her.

"Why Doctor, I feel ashamed, don't you love me enough to tell them who I am?"

"You know that I love you, I just....."

"Didn't want to risk creating a time tear in the vortex of time ultimately destroying life as we know it. Please knowing me won't cause that and you know it". She sassed at him.

"Doctor who is she?" Rory asked urgently.

"Amy, Rory, my name like these two before have been written in time and space itself, for when two of the best known Time Lords meet they create a new savior to stay between the future and the past. My name is (y/f/n) (y/l/n), I'm your granddaughter".

Amy and Rory were in shock.

"You.....you mean they are......" Rory started off.

"Yes, your daughter is my mother, and your raggedy man is my father. The Daughter of the Doctor and River Song".

"Wow, I—I would have never imagined.....but-but-but when did?"

"Spoilers" (y/n) teased with her mother's famous smirk.

"Oh I can definitely see River in you" Amy stated.

"Now (y/n) I can't quite get my head around on who we saw in your cell?" The Doctor said.

"Oh dad, you never seem to get into the technology I've seen have you. Basic mimic skin mirror to make myself look like the guard that came into my cell last and sneak out before you all came. I didn't kill him because that's the curse you bestowed upon me, but I did beat her to almost barely unrecognizable and since she was around my height it wouldn't be too hard to tell the difference, put on the (h/c) wig and one small rubber stress ball underneath the armpit which slows the pulse down to one beat a minute, in terms it made her appear 'dead'".

"Oh you clever girl, my clever, clever girl". The Doctor said as he gently cupped (y/n)'s cheeks and kissed her forehead gingerly. "Right now let's all go home and get you healed up and then celebrate this reunion with fish fingers and custard!" The Doctor then began to flip switches on the control before pulling the big lever and soon the TARDIS made it's famous calling and as it disappeared the Doctor said.

"I still love that sound!"

[sutrofm-blog]

SutroFM’s Top 5 feat. Experimental Housewife (2/18/2019)

EHW: “Hi I'm Evelyn and I perform as Experimental Housewife. Glad to be asked to share some of my favorite tunes here on SutroFM. Here's a look into what I've been vibing on lately. Some of it is very recent, and some of it is material I’ve been watching closely in the last few years. The main things I personally search for in music include drivenness, consistency, and depth. As a DJ I like to keep it wild and hypnotic, so I always select tracks or combinations of tracks that help me fulfill that mission. This list showcases that variety pretty well.”

1. Daniela La Luz "Counting Days" [Housewax] 2016

EHW: “I discovered La Luz last year and I’ve become a steady fan. Her drums are so dope, and her spiritedness in each song, with her little vocal snippets, are fun and appeasing to the authentic listener. She has her own grooving, idiosyncratic style despite her comparability to Cassy, who I also have gotten into in recent years. Where La Luz kills it for me though is with her hits of pretty lead synth/pad here and there -- always a weakness of mine. Really looking forward to her upcoming releases.”

BUY // SOUNDCLOUD

2. Gilmer Galibard "Brain Poacher" [Lobster Theremin] 2015

EHW: “This record hasn’t left my bag in about three years. I grabbed it right when it came out, and I've been very closely following Galibard since then. I love the intensity and angularity of his productions. Some of his shit is so crazy, it’s almost flat out scary. He hasn’t put out a record in several years but he has been posting dope, crazy tracks on his Soundcloud. “Brain Poacher” is absolutely an apt title of his LT release. It’s a scathing 4-track techno EP, full of sharp metallic percussion and insane layers. It melts your mind in a way that forces you to pay attention. It’s just all really crazy shit.”

BANDCAMP

3. Aleks "Ground Control" [Deeptrax] 2018

LISTEN

EHW: “I have all of this guy's records. I discovered him in late 2015 and I have been preordering his new records as they appear. I'd definitely award him a "prolific" badge. Dubby, often lo-fi, always deep af. I like this stuff so much it's hard for me to find the proper place for it in my DJ sets; I could just play a little set full of his tracks only. His latest 12” has a serious banger, a track that's a clear departure into a new realm for him. The other three tracks are more so his typical groove. If you want to check out more of his lo-fi, ambient works, I recommend his Shimmering Moods album or “Different Stories” on Hesperian Sound Division.”

BANDCAMP // SOUNDCLOUD

4. Cherushii & Maria Minerva [100% Silk] 2019

EHW: “Brand new! These two incredible producers happen to be two of my dearest friends -- members of my wedding party, in fact. I'm so happy to see this project completed. It is a typical display of Cherushii's brilliance around pop constructions and wonderful melodies. Maria's lyrics likewise display her typical musicianship, with curious storytelling and the right amount of relatable lamentation. I always say Cherushii tracks are so full, they’re like complete albums in and of themselves. To take this quality and add Maria's touch to it -- and talent from other dear friends determined to make sure the record gets made -- you get an inexpressibly special sonic experience, a record that should feel like gold in your hands. I remember Chelsea telling me that she and Maria were finally collaborating for a Silk 12", and I knew then it was going to be delicious. I remember saying to her, "Well, finally. That makes too much sense."”

BANDCAMP // SOUNDCLOUD

5. Will Ward "DETOUR004" [Detour Pittsburgh] 2016

EHW: “Had a really hard time deciding what gets this last slot, but I’m happy to go with this jam. Just grabbed it in January. I don't know much about the producer, but he's got a few solid EPs out on New Rhythmic, Joton's very busy techno label. Ward maintains a metallic canopy, similar to what I like about Gilmer Galibard's material. But Ward wants to stick more so to progressive density for floor-moving purposes. He ventures with much refinement into the dub-scape while sprinkling emotive poignancy on top of the relentless drums. Detour did a good deed by putting this record out. I have several of their plates at this point and follow them closely as they are excellent selectors. Diving into this 12" was the final persuasive point around how I feel about them: fucking great.”

BANDCAMP

Follow Experimental Housewife on SoundCloud and catch her at the following upcoming shows: 3/11/19 - Visions Of A New World (live set), 3/27/19 - Housepitality

[rontufox]

I completed this way too long of meme thing

1: My name? Brian! 2: Do I have any nicknames? Rontu!

3: Zodiac sign? Sagittarius!! 4: Video game I play to chill, not to win? Breath of the Wild.... if I owned it 5: Book/series I reread? Island of the Blue Dolphins lol 6: Aliens or ghosts? neither, ugh 7: Writer I trust enough to read whatever they write? Furudate 8: Favourite radio station? I haven’t listened to the radio in like... 3 years 9: Favourite flavour of anything? how the heck am I supposed to answer this? 10: The word that I use all the time to describe something great? SO COOL 11: Favourite song? Aru Machi no Gunjou by Asian Kung-Fu Generation 12: The question you ask new friends to get to know them better? I don’t make friends 13: Favourite word? bro

14: The last person who hurt me, did I forgive them? yeah 15: Last song I listened to? T.O.P. (the second ending song in Sonic X.... lol) 16: TV show I always recommend? HAIKYUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 17: Pirates or ninjas? *groans* 18: Movie I watch when I'm feeling down? hm.... I only watch movies when I’m happy 19: Song that I always start my shuffle with/wake-up song/always-on-a-loop song? just...... tons of cheerful chiptune by Malmen 20: Favourite video games? platformers 21: What am I most afraid of? yes I’ll totally tell you 22: A good quality of mine? strong, optimistic 23: A bad quality of mine? distrustful lol 24: Cats or dogs? both 25: Actor/actress you trust enough to watch whatever they're in? NONE 26: Favourite season? WINTER!!!!!!!!!! 27: Am I in a relationship? I give and get so much love ✌🏼✌🏼✌🏼 28: Something I miss? Angel’s Landing, I really wanna hike it 29: My best friend? my bro 30: Eye colour? BROWN!! 31: Hair colour? brown 32: Someone I love? my bro 33: Someone I trust? my bro 34: Someone I always think about? MIGHTY THE ARMADILLO 35: Am I excited about anything? my wonderful life 36: My current obsession? my Sonic fic 37: Favourite TV shows as a child? Power Rangers, Sonic SatAM, Rocko’s Modern Life, Powerpuff Girls, DBZ were my most fav 38: Do I have someone of the opposite sex that I can tell everything to? I have no idea what that is 39: Am I superstitious? no. 40: What do I think about most? how lucky I am 41: Do I have any strange phobias? fans.  I thought it was just ceiling fans, but at some stupid camping retreat I was forced to go to, there was a rotating fan whose sound kept making me feel like I was gonna die??  I was terrified man idek 42: Do I prefer to be in front of the camera or behind it? both are cool 43: Favourite hobbies? drawing and writing 44: Last book I read? Island of the Blue Dolphins 45: Last film I watched? Interstellar 46: Do I play any instruments? nope 47: Favourite animal? FOX 48: Top 5 blog on Tumblr that I follow? I don’t like doing ones like this 49: Superpower I wish I could have? cliche but I wanna fly 50: How do I destress? listening to music, writing, and hanging with my bro 51: Do I like confrontation? no. 52: When do I feel most at peace? when I’m alone 53: What makes me smile? Mighty............ 54: Do I sleep with the lights on or off? off 55: Play any sports? I love soccer 56: What is my song of the week? gosh I don’t know 57: Favourite drink? almond milk tea now 58: When did I last send a handwritten letter to somebody? oh shoot... uh... like a year ago? 59: Afraid of heights? NO.  I love them 60: Pet peeve? you know what.  I hate when people are like “knock on wood” or like “you jinxed it by saying something!”  my gosh, shut up, can anyone ever say anything without people doing that?? 61: What was the last concert I went to see? my gosh this is boring 62: Am I vegetarian/vegan/pescatarian? no 63: What occupation did I want to do when I was younger? I wanted to work with animals 64: Have I ever had a friend turn enemy? yeah you wouldn’t believe the horrible stuff 2 people did to me in highschool/college 65: What fictional universe would I like to be a part of? idk 66: Something I worry about? I used to always worry I’d leave the house without a shirt on without realizing it.  I haven’t worried about that since my surgery LOL 67: Scared of the dark? no 68: Who are my best friends? mind your gosh dang business, but, you already asked this 69: What do I admire most about others? kindness 70: Can I sing? no but it’s fun 71: Something I wish I could do? hmmmm.... fly still lol 72: If I won the lottery, what would I do? idk it’s so boring to think about cuz it’d never happen 73: Have I ever skipped school? I guess?  by faking being sick 74: Favourite place on the planet? myself 75: Where do I want to live? Colorado 76: Do I have any pets? a cat named Sarai 77: What is my current desktop picture? a flowery place with pine trees and snowy mountains in the distance 78: Early bird or night owl? early 79: Sunsets or sunrise? gosh these are in EVERY meme thing 80: Can I drive? yup and I love to sing when I drive 81: Story behind my last kiss? I kissed me cat on the head 82: Earphones or headphones? earphones I guess 83: Have I ever had braces? gosh yes 84: Story behind one of my scars? my top surgery scar is where I got top surgery 85: Favourite genre of music? idk I love chiptune and r&b 86: Who is my hero? NISHINOYA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HERO HERO 87: Favourite comic book character? I kinda hate comic books 88: What makes me really angry? when characters be mean to Mighty 89: Kindle or real book? I.D.C.

90: Favourite sporty activity? hiking 91: What is one thing that isn’t tight in schools that should be? you think there should be MORE rules?

92: What was my favourite subject at school? science 93: Siblings? got a little sister 94: What was the last thing I bought? dinner for me and my sister 95: How tall am I? 5′1 !!!!!!!!!!!!!! 96: Can I cook? NO.  I AM INEPT 97: Can I bake? have never tried 98: 3 things I love? I love my life I love my friends I love myself 99: 3 things I hate? idk cilantro, loud sounds, uh people who waste my time 100: Do I have more girl friends or boy friends? I don’t know what those are 101: Who do I get on with better, girls or boys? ugh 102: Where was I born? NOSEY 103: Sexual orientation? ACE✧ 104: Where do I currently live? ...........get away from me 105: Last person I texted? my cousin 106: Last time I cried? a few days ago I guess 107: Guilty pleasure? making fun of stuff I hate with my bro 108: Favourite Youtuber? I really like Diabetus from Retsuprae 109: A photo of myself. *lazy* 110: Do I like selfies? tons, people prolly hate it 111: Favourite game app? I guess snapchat doesn’t count but I don’t have any game apps 112: My relationship with my parents? blunt 113: Favourite accents? idk 114: A place I have not been but wish to visit? idk 115: Favourite number? FIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 116: Can I juggle? pff, no 117: Am I religious? no 118: Do I like space? yeah~ 119: Do I like the deep ocean? it’s okay I guess 120: Am I much of a daredevil? I used to be 121: Am I allergic to anything? my skin’s kinda allergic to water? 122: Can I curl my tongue? yeah 123: Can I wiggle my ears? sometimes 124: Do I like clowns? gosh I DONT” CARE 125: The Beatles or Elvis? anyway 126: My current project? my Sonic fic 127: Am I a bad loser? I’m not competitive so 128: Do I admit when I wrong? yeah I try to be proactive 129: Forest or beach? FOREST 130: Favourite piece of advice? "If....for SOME reason, someone thinks you're lame, they're wrong.” 131: Am I a good liar? LOL NO 132: Hogwarts house / Divergent faction / Hunger Games district? BORING 133: Do I talk to myself? I sing to myself 134: Am I very social? LOL NO 135: Do I like gossip? no it’s usually stupid 136: Do I keep a journal/diary? no 137: Have I ever hopelessly failed a test? I don’t think so 138: Do I believe in second chances? lolllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll no 139: If I found a wallet full of cash on the ground, what would I do? I’d give it to whoever’s in charge or whatever 140: Do I believe people are capable of change? it’s rare 141: Have I ever been underweight? always 142: Am I ticklish? my gosh this question makes me wanna slap it 143: Have I ever been in a submarine? no 144: Have I ever been on a plane? way too many times 145: In a film about my life, who would I cast as myself, friends and family? this would never happen, no one could be as short and handsome as me 146: Have I ever been overweight? no 147: Do I have any piercings? no 148: Which fictional character do I wish was real? I don’t 149: Do I have any tattoos? no 150: What is the best decision I have made in life so far? just keep trying to improve man 151: Do I believe in Karma? no 152: Do I wear glasses or contacts? I wear reading/computer glasses 153: What was my first car? why would I remember that boring piece of information 154: Do I want children? no 155: Who is the most intelligent person I know? ME 156: My most embarrassing memory? idk sorry I’m too lazy to think 157: What makes me nostalgic? Sonic 158: Have I ever pulled an all-nighter? yes it was horrible 159: Which do I value more in others, brains or beauty? those aren’t what I value 160: What colour mostly dominates my wardrobe? gray? 161: Have I ever had a paranormal experience? no 162: What do I hate most about myself? how I can’t hear or talk very well 163: What do I love most about myself? how I’m ace and loving and optimistic 164: Do I like adventure? yeah!

165: Do I believe in fate? my GOSH.  NO 166: Favourite animal? you........... already asked this......... 167: Have I ever been on radio? no 168: Have I ever been on TV? yeah 169: How old am I? 29! 170: One of my favourite quotes? idk does it look like I can be bothered to do that right now 171: Do I hold grudges? yes 172: Do I trust easily? LOL 173: Have I learnt from my mistakes? yup 174: Best gift I’ve ever received? reciprocation 175: Do I dream? y-yeah? 176: Have I ever had a night terror? I’m not really sure what that is 177: Do I remember my dreams, and what is one that comes to mind? sometimes, once I had a dream that I flew up into the clouds, they were pink, and on the other side collected on top of a cloud was a big wide, crystal clear lake 178: An experience that has made me stronger? honestly just all the younger people in my life and seeing how I can help 179: If I were immortal, what would I do? not die 180: Do I like shopping? it’s fun if you’re with someone 181: If I could get away with a crime, what would I choose to do? get a particular person killed 182: What does “family” mean to me? friends who love 183: What is my spirit animal? shut up 184: How do I want to be remembered? idk....... I hope people tell me what they think of me while I’m still alive 185: If I could master one skill, what would I choose? identifying rocks 186: What is my greatest failure? trying to become an art teacher I guess lol 187: What is my greatest achievement? me~ 188: Love or money? would you stop 189: Love or career? anyway 190: If I could time travel, where and when would I want to go? idk........ that’s too big a question 191: What makes me the happiest? me 192: What is “home” to me? *shrug* 193: What motivates me? ME 194: If I could choose my last words, what would they be? this is really dramatic 195: Would I ever want to encounter aliens? no. 196: A movie that scared me as a child? Jurassic Park when the t-rex had the kids pinned under the car 197: Something I hated as a child that I like now? onions?  I have no idea 198: Zombies or vampires? I hate both 199: Live in the city or suburbs? IDK 200: Dragons or wizards? I hate stuff like this 201: A nightmare that has stayed with me? gosh when I was a kid I’d always have this nightmare that was mostly a smell...... and a weird feeling/pain... my gosh 202: How do I define love? it’s wonderful and kind 203: Do I judge a book by its cover? idek if you’re talking literally or figuratively either way BORING 204: Have I ever had my heart broken? yeah 205: Do I like my handwriting? yup 206: Sweet or savoury? savory 207: Worst job I’ve had? the one I had before we got a new CEO where basically I did everyone’s jobs 208: Do I collect anything? not really 209: Item of clothing or jewellery you’ll never see me without? underwear I guess 210: What is on my bucket list? fjdksl 211: How do I handle anger? I leave til I’ve calmed down 212: Was I named after anyone? no 213: Do I use sarcasm a lot? not that much 214: What TV character am I most like? idk 215: What is the weirdest talent I have? I can burp very loud and long on command 216: Favourite fictional character? MIGHTY THE ARMADILLO

[lifeonashelf]

CLARKSON, KELLY

Since we’ve already tackled a fairly diverse musical sampling in this tome, it may not shock you to learn that I sincerely think Kelly Clarkson is awesome-sauce. And I’m not just referring to her talent (which is obviously abundant) or her register of great songs (which is also obviously abundant), I’m referring to her essence—the authenticity she embodies, and how much more fundamentally likeable she is than any other pop star of her stature or epoch. I have not met Kelly Clarkson, yet her entire vocational ethos has been so blessedly free of pretention that I kind of feel like I know her, even though the only thing I know for a fact about Kelly Clarkson is that she is a singer named Kelly Clarkson.

I never viewed one episode of the American Idol season she won and I have never seen her interviewed as far as I can recall. The impressions I have of her character are intrinsic, based on nothing more than the calmative sound of her voice and the traits I instinctively suppose a person whose voice sounds like hers must surely possess (certain voices are just like that—I don’t think anyone on the planet assumes Morgan Freeman is a dick, for instance). By that criteria alone, I am led to believe Kelly Clarkson is a kind human being, the sort of gentle soul who gleans authentic happiness from making other people happy. I am led to believe she is a humble human being, the sort of grateful and unaffected luminary who lends her resources to numerous charitable causes without requiring any fanfare for it. I am led to believe she is a wonderful mother, although I am merely presuming she has kids since I don’t actually know anything about her personal life. And I am so innately certain of these things that if someone told me they have it on good authority that Kelly Clarkson bathes in the blood of kittens to preserve her youth, I wouldn’t believe that person for a second, even if they had pictures (conversely, if someone told me the same thing about Taylor Swift, they wouldn’t even need photos to convince me).

I have an anecdote which supports my hypotheses, even if the anecdote isn’t my own. My cousin Lauren worked at a restaurant in Hawaii for a few years, and on her last day at this café, a vacationing Kelly Clarkson happened to stop in to eat there. Since it was Lauren’s final shift, her co-workers were scribbling farewell messages on her uniform with magic markers throughout the day, inscribing it like the pages of a yearbook. My cousin’s engraved vestment drew the notice of the eatery’s eminent visitor, who amiably asked about its significance; when Lauren explained the circumstances to this world-renowned superstar in her establishment, Clarkson proceeded to gush about how delightful she thought the gesture was and asked if she could add her signature to the shirt. As a result, my cousin is now the proud owner of a decidedly unique piece of apparel which is autographed by a slew of her former hospitality industry peers… and Kelly Clarkson. When Lauren told me this story, I was acutely charmed and—yes, I admit—a little envious. But I was not a bit surprised, because that is exactly the sort of genial exchange I imagine everybody who meets Kelly Clarkson probably has with her (conversely, if Lauren told me that Taylor Swift came into her restaurant, wrote “fuck you” on her t-shirt, then defecated on the floor, she wouldn’t even need the signed garment to convince me).    

While artists like Lady Gaga and Nicki Minaj have allocated periods of their careers to embodying post-apocalyptic femme-bots or community-theater sorceresses or whatever-the-fuck, Kelly Clarkson has exclusively devoted her career to embodying a performer named Kelly Clarkson who doesn’t come across as markedly different than the self-effacing lass named Kelly Clarkson who curls up on her tour bus after her concerts to watch old episodes of Friends (granted, I have no idea if Clarkson is a fan of that particular show, but she sounds like she must be). The only way I would ever recognize Lady Gaga in the wild is if she walked up to me and said, “Hi, my name is Lady Gaga”—and after I nodded and remarked, “oh, that’s kinda neat for you,” I can’t imagine I’d have much else to say to her. Yet if I happened to be at a craft store and I spotted Clarkson browsing the yarn aisles (for some reason, I also presuppose she knits a mean sweater), I would instantly know who I was spotting because she would probably look exactly like Kelly Clarkson always does, and I’d feel duty-bound to approach her, shake her hand, and thank her for being all of the things I assume she is. And if she wanted to hang out for a little while and chat about patterns, I would totally hear her out, because listening to Kelly Clarkson extrapolate on the textile arts sounds like a perfectly pleasant way to spend an afternoon. I have a strong sense that if I were to meet up with Kelly Clarkson for coffee—actually, now that I think about it, she probably prefers tea—we would totally get along; I also have a strong sense that Kelly Clarkson is precisely the kind of celebrity who actually would meet up with a fan for tea (not me, obviously, because I clearly sound like a lunatic right now).  

“The Girl Next Door” is such a tired trope (especially in my case, since the girls who live next door to me are a Goth lesbian couple), but that is indeed the model Clarkson educes: an ingenuous small-town gal-done-good who spent her teenaged weekends canning homemade jam with her grandmother and reading YA romance novels on her porch with a glass of fresh-squeezed lemonade beside her (again, I’m not sure Kelly Clarkson did any of these things; regrettably, my insights into small-town living are limited to the saccharine tableaus represented in the Lifetime Original movies I’ve watched over the years—which, consequently, I presume Clarkson also enjoys). Her comportment evokes a high-spirited yet enduringly sweet kid sister you impulsively want to protect from the leering eyes of the world, and while she is certainly a beautiful woman, my attraction to her has never ventured anywhere near the realm of the erotic (my pop chanteuse crush is Demi Lovato, whose open struggles with bi-polar disorder, depression, and substance abuse—perhaps unfortunately—make her way more my type than Clarkson is). Honestly, I can’t envision making out with Kelly Clarkson; any fantasies my brain might entertain about her would be more likely to involve tracking down whatever scoundrel inspired the fervent pathos in her performance of “Behind These Hazel Eyes” and defending her honor by punching that fucker in the face.

I guess the word I’m really looking for here is “refreshing.” While Clarkson built her renown in a realm of play-acting, her career has been defined by an absence of artifice, which is ultimately a much more substantive thing to define oneself by than prowling around in spangled booty shorts. At her peak, Clarkson’s implicit message to the young women in her fanbase seemed to be, “you don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not; just be who you are and great things will happen.” I’m certainly no prig, but if I had a music-consuming daughter who looked to pop idols for guidance, I’d much rather her absorb that philosophy than the one proffered by, say, Rihanna—whose well-publicized turbulent coupling with Chris Brown would instead tacitly edify my fictional offspring that “ride-or-die” means sticking by your man even after he beats the absolute fucking shit out of you.

Of course, Kelly Clarkson’s ascent was predominantly reliant on her faculty—I doubt millions of people bought her records solely because she’s a nice person—yet in that respect also, she handily outshined her contemporaries. While most of the circa-aughts female pop icons were essentially sonically interchangeable, Clarkson’s soaring vocals always had enough distinctive character to render them unmistakably hers—surely, no amount of Auto-Tune could have endowed the bottom-scraping likes of Fergie with enough juice to do “Because of You” justice. She was also savvy beyond her years, and it was her refusal to let her handlers dictate the course of her career that ultimately allowed her to flourish when so many of her fellow American Idol graduates floundered.

Clarkson’s sophomore album—2004’s Breakaway—turned out to be the best-selling entry in her discography, and will likely forever remain her most iconic opus. But she had to fire her manager and battle just about everyone else in her camp to make that disc happen on her terms. After riding the wave of Idol worship which lifted her safe and satisfactory debut Faithful to its logical ceiling, she was tenacious in her resolve to transcend that threshold and announce herself as an artist capable of achieving far greater heights than triumphing in a televised popularity contest. As preparations for Breakaway began, Clarkson insisted on being heavily involved in the songwriting process—disregarding the protests of her mostly-male producers, who myopically deemed that a twenty-something woman couldn’t possibly possess any insight into what the twenty-something women who comprised the largest audience for the record they were making wanted to hear. She was also adamant about integrating more diverse and dynamic elements into her sound instead of simply settling upon another cycle of tepid pop-contemporary numbers. The result was a monster of a record that offered up five chart-igniting classics and a supporting cast of remarkably strong deep cuts. As evidenced on Breakaway, Kelly Clarkson’s vision of her craft encompassed something much weightier than a series of Pez-dispenser singles and shark-costume dance numbers. She clearly wanted to make a cohesive album that never gave the listener occasion to reach for the Track-Skip button, and she succeeded brilliantly. Commencing with the anthemic title cut, the feisty “Since U Been Gone”, the masterful “Behind These Hazel Eyes”, and the show-stopping apogee “Because of You” in immediate succession, Breakaway is surely a front-loaded disc, but it’s nevertheless one that continues delivering gems long after it exhausts its radio bait: “Addicted” is as solid as anything else on the record, “Walk Away” brims with irresistible quirk, and despite being buried near the tail-end of the track listing, “You Found Me” is more indelible than most other artists’ biggest hits.

This, too, illustrates a refreshing component of Clarkson’s mien—she made an entire record worth listening to, a feat which regrettably few artists on the pop landscape ever seem to bother themselves with. None of the tunes on Breakaway resonate as throwaways; each has something to offer beyond a hummable chorus, and each is solely Clarkson’s domain, firmly entrenched in her esthetic wheelhouse and blessedly devoid of any posturized pandering or blundering Ja Rule cameos. Even at this early stage of her artistic development, she possessed a seasoned understanding of the clear difference between making a song marketable and making a song memorable, and a keen awareness that those two things are not mutually exclusive. Surely, Clarkson was just as aggressively promoted as any of her peers, but her product wasn’t aimed at the audience hungry for gyrating, hypersexual caprice—peddlers like Christina Aguilera already had that demographic covered. Kelly Clarkson wasn’t selling her navel, she was selling a much more durable commodity: fantastic songs performed by an exceptional singer. And the grandeur of her vocal acumen elevated her wares beyond the disposable and into the timeless—indeed, as of this writing, Breakaway remains a thoroughly satisfying listen; meanwhile, nobody would bother spinning an Ashlee Simpson album from start to finish today, not even Ashlee Simpson.

And unlike far too many of her colleagues, Clarkson didn’t require a force-field of studio trickery to bolster her transmission. The organic nuance and passion in her voice floated atop the reverb rather than drowning in it, and the intricate, exquisite descants she conjured revealed hours spent mining her soul for the best way to communicate the emotion each track called for instead of pondering what shoes to wear in the eventual video. Which is probably why “Since U Been Gone” still makes me pogo around my apartment every time I put it on, while every Katy Perry song sounds like it was specifically written for a lipgloss commercial.

Clarkson’s output has waned in the last decade or so—though “Stronger” is a notable high-point—but even if her most significant work is destined to remain behind her, the legacy she built for herself transcends her standing as the first and most successful American Idol victor (at press time, that is; I’m willing to entertain the possibility that Lee DeWyze or one of the seven other winners whose names nobody remembers might still create the most amazing record ever made). After weathering an era replete with shameful moments like the skinhead meltdown of Britney Spears, The Pussycat Dolls pledging the drooling males in their litterbox echelons of filthy sluttery their lowly mortal girlfriends could never aspire to, and Lindsay Lohan being Lindsay Lohan, Kelly Clarkson emerged with her class, her dignity, and her career intact. The reality-TV platform that introduced her to the world is now a footnote, but her catalog continues to stand the test of time. And even though I actually shook Randy Jackson’s hand when he ate at the restaurant where I work (take that, Lauren), Clarkson will always be the American Idol alumnus I feel most closely connected to.

Speaking of… Kelly, if you’re reading this: my last shift at Eureka is on Monday, January 28. If you happen to be in the vicinity of Claremont that night and feel like swinging by, I’d be honored to have you sign my shirt. Just don’t invite Taylor Swift, please; I heard she does some really gnarly shit to kittens.

 January 17, 2019