#that final bit of text in the mask collector

[thelaurenshippen]

bill hader wins the prize for being the first person to ever make me spontaneously yell 'oh you're fucking KIDDING me' at the penultimate frame of a tv finale

[the-faceless-bride]

Wasted on a dream...

Imagine: In your final moments you confess how you've wasted your life on a dream, and you figure you might as well tell someone how you feel, even if it isn't the one who is about to take your life... Or... Was.

Includes: Asa (the collector), Jesse (Chromeskull), Jason (the zombie), Daniel(Candyman), Thomas (leatherface)

Asa The Collector

You weren't meant to be in his collection, it was meant to be one of your roommates to start. He was watching for a while and thought they would be a pretty addition to his collecting, a pretty new butterfly... Well until he saw how much prettier you were...

That night he had your roommate in the box and you and the other tied to chairs, he planned to be a bit more creative tonight feeling inspired by his recent catch, and while the other roommate kicked, screamed, bit, and cussed a storm at him trying to get away... You sat there in silence.

At first, he thought you just knew you weren't getting out and had already given up, but there was much more than that... You were thinking about how much time you waisted...

Staying home every night, waiting for that prince charming you dreamed so much about, taking all those cold showers, and wasting all that time... Throwing your life away on a dream that never came true...

When he finally had more on to you, you were already lost in thought. You smiled, your lower lip quivering slightly before letting out a huff of a chuckle. "Wanna know something funny?" Asa paused, this was new. People didn't talk to him... Well, at least not as you had just done now. How interesting. "I always thought I was gonna have a fairytale life, with a prince and a perfect home, and be taken care of all my life... All that dreaming... Waiting... Wishing... And it was all for nothing... Im gonna die, and I never even got to see that prince... Not even once..." A tear slowly descends on your cheek.

You weren't paying attention to anything the man in the mask was doing but you heard a scream and then a gurgle before a bloodied hand reached out and roughly picked you up, and before you could fully process what was happening you were dropped in a closed small space before the top was closed over you.

Asa knew he was no prince charming, but if being taken care of and having a home was all you wanted? He could do that for you butterfly.

Jesse Chromeskull

Jesse had found you; Jesse had just finished playing with his latest piggy and was making his way to his car to go home. But stopped when he heard a soft sniffle, Jesse paused in his moments and turned on his heel. And that's when he spotted you.

Sitting on the curb of the street; tears falling down your glistening cheeks, lip slightly wabbling, shoulders jolting with each sniffle and harsh breath, eyes downcast looking at your feet. Aww, poor little piggy... Looking slightly to the left of you he saw an empty beer bottle, just how many of those have you had?

He slowly made his way over to you, briefly looking around to make sure there would be no witnesses and he slowly turned on his camera.

You heard some shuffling before it stopped right next to you, you sniffled one last time before turning and looking up at who was next to you. Jesse found you looking up at him with your puppy dog eyes endearing.

'What's wrong?' A custom text-to-speech voice asked you, and you let out a small huff. " it's a long story... But to sum it up, I was at a party with my boyfriend and uhh... Turns out he needed more than me... Caught him with my best friend... So much for prince charming..." Ouch, Jesse thought. You mumble that last part to yourself, but Jesse heard you. Jesse tilted his head to you, 'need a ride home?' The text-to-speech offered, and while he was a stranger and if you were sober would have said hell no, you were heartbroken and very much drunk...

You sat in the passenger seat of Jesse's sleek leather seated car, looking out the window as Jesse drove. You were still sniffling but weren't breaking down. Jesse was expecting you to stay quiet for the whole drive, but you surprised him. "Have you ever been in love?" Jesse teased for a moment his hands tightening on the steering wheel, "I always wanted to be... I always dreamed of being deeply in love with someone, someone who loved me and wanted to care for me, someone to have a family with, someone who would do anything for me if I asked... You think that's real?" Jesse slowly eased back up, and he thought for a moment... Yes, he was in love once... Well, at least he thinks he was in love... He did marry her, he was going to have a family with her, he was going to have a family with her, and if she asked him for the mood he would do anything he could to give it to her... Yeah, he is pretty sure that was love... Only she wasn't as in love with him as he was with her...

You softly laughed before looking over at him, "im starting to lose hope... That person doesn't exist, do they." You were no longer asking a question...you had started to realize that, that fairytale was nothing but a lie. No, Jesse thought, they exist... I was that person.

Jesse pulled a U and started driving to his house, this whole time he was gonna bring you to the playroom. You would've made a pretty piggy; hell you hadn't even given him your address, he just started driving and you just accepted it, just assuming somehow he knew where you lived. But Jesse had a new plan as he drove home, slowly turning off and removing his camera.

Jason V. The zombie

You met because of a date gone terribly wrong you went on a date with a 'nice guy' who you thought was finally the prince you were waiting for. when he said you were going to Camp Crystal lake you heard of the place and figured it was technically a resting place and it would be quite rude to just go rummaging around there without something? So you picked some flowers from your garden and went on your date.

It was not how you thought it was going to go, and it all went downhill as soon as you placed the small assortment of flowers at the docks and the first thing your date did was scoff you felt awful for what happened to this poor boy and your date only rolled his eyes at the story not feeling sorry at all. But the large man hiding and watching found it to be very thoughtful of you...

And it was the final straw when you went to sit down and your date started kissing you, but not in a sweet way... Lustfully, and didn't take too kindly when you pulled away with a frown, for a few reasons... The first being that this was still technically a resting place as someone did die here and was still here, or their body at least. And if they thought that you were going to drop your pants in the forest of said resting ground and degrade this poor boys place of rest they were horribly mistaken, and second you thought this would be the place to finally make it official and they would ask you to be their partner, here with the fireflies, wilderness, and the big ol' beautiful sunset... Guess not.

When they started berating you for being "a prude" and making those pretty eyes of yours tear up, they got an axe thrown into the back of their head... You gasped, a moment of shock as some small blood bullets landed on your face you let out a screech. Standing to run but managing to run right into a bear trap. You fall with a cry and look up at the large looming man above you. You whimper a please before laying your head on the soft dirt ground with a small cry.

Jason knelt down getting on his knees beside you, snapping open the trap as quickly and painlessly as he could. Before lifting you and letting your head rest on his strong chest.

It shattered his undead heart hearing you softly babble about how "this isn't how the night was meant to go", " this is where your fairytale was finally meant to start...", and "wasted so much time of something that was never going to be..."

You poor little thing... Don't worry, Mamma likes you, and so does he! He can give you a fairytale, just like the ones in the story books his mom would read him at night before bed. He could be your prince...

Just as long it meant you would be his princex and would give him his fairytale in return...

Daniel R. the candyman

You were forced to do this, the boy you liked and had been daydreaming about had invited you to his house and you were over the moon. You were convinced that this is where you were finally going to be noticed and loved... You were wrong, not a minute or two after showing up you were laughed at by him and his friends, called names, tossed in a dark bathroom, and told that until you said the words to summon the candyman you wouldn't be let out.

You were already crying by the time you got past the first word, it wasn't a secret that this stuff scared you and made you want to hide away under your covers like a little kid. And all you could hear was their laughter at your quivering voice.

Daniel slowly woke up and watched for you to say the last few words, he grew intrigued no one who called him was already crying. It was clear you didn't want this, so why were you? It wasn't until the fourth call that he could hear around him, your soft sobs and the laughter of the group behind the door... And while Daniel didn't know you locking you in here wasn't a very nice thing for them to do to you...

By the final call, you had covered your eyes with both hands and whimpered to be let out... But there was only silence. You went to open the door but were quickly grabbed and pulled away from the door. And he was there, looking down at you. "Now why would you do something so foolish as to call to me, when you clearly do not want me?" And you spilled. You figured he would kill you and you might as well confess everything in your heart now.

All your daydreaming, wishing, your dreams of "being the one someone looks at like your the most beautiful thing they had ever seen, to be loved and have someone be hopelessly devoted to you and you in return, to be the one that lights someone's world with a single smile..." And it touched Daniels bee-infected heart...

Daniel looked into your eyes, a slow tilt to his head before slowly caressing his hook along your jaw, "If that is what you want..."- moving softly up your cheek before moving back to lift your chin... -" then you shall have it..."

And just like that, when you blinked he was gone... When you wanted out you gasped in horror, the group was gutted and strewn about the room...

You were with a group of friends, the group had all stopped to grab some things at a convince store when you and Thomas locked eyes for the first time. He was helping his momma put heavy boxes up on some high shelves when you saw him, the sun caught in his dark curly hair, his eyes sparking a burning desire. He was beautiful and strong, and from how he was with the sweet old lady at the counter he was respectful and thoughtful, which was much more than any of the other guys your age.

But nothing can ever go your way, as you were immediately teased for your interest in the giant. One going as far as to make a joke about "beauty and the beast" taking a jab at your love for fairytales and your dreams of living one making the rest of the group all laugh at you. You knew they were only playing... That didn't make you feel any less silly or mocked...

But you head your head high, "look im sorry im not willing to settle for some jerk who is only interested in sex and thinks he is such a nice guy for giving the fantasy lover a chance, I want someone who really wants me not just for looks or body." I take a gab at the one who made the joke as she and her boyfriend had been fighting about how their relationship was all sex, but she hit a nerve and she knew how important it was to you... No matter how silly or childish it was...

While you were talking it caught the giant's attention... As well as his mother. And boy was she gitty about the whole situation, God had finally answered her prayers... Her sweet Tommy and a sweet person like you... Someone who will love Tommy with all theirr heart no matter what he does, or what he looks like...

Later that night when your group's can broke down and ended up at the Hewitt household, while your friends were taken down into the basement you ended up in a drug-induced sleep in Tommy's bed... His own sleeping beauty...

[anythingforspence]

the capstone - chapter one

Summary: Reader is a semester away from getting her masters in Psychology and duringher last semester she has to complete her capstone, or passion project if you will. This year, the professors decided that each student will be personally mentored by a psycologyst in distinct fields. When Y/N meets hers, she can’t decide whether she is lucky or if it will be a long 5 months.

Pairing: Female reader x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 1.8 k

Chapter warning: harsh language, sexy talk, no smut yet

A/N: omg tysm for all of the love on the teaser post. i hope i dont dissapoint.

Although I’m wide awake, I let my alarm clock keep beeping and beeping and beeping as I stare up at the white ceiling of my cheap studio apartment. My neighbor woke me up bright and early this morning by doing what sounded like lugging a dead body throughout his apartment. I lifted my head slightly just to slam it back against my bed, whining about being awake at 5:30 am. I’m probably just nervous. I have to complete this passion project for my psychology class by being mentored by a famous psychologist and write a paper about their career and their wisdom I guess. I have a meeting with my mentor today and I don’t know what to expect. My professor kept the identity of our mentors a secret. For the “excitement” and whatnot.

With a sigh, I swing my legs over the side of my bed and bend over to switch off the alarm. Resting my elbows on my knees, I run my hands down my face, basically prepping myself for the fact that I have to stand up soon. The moment I stand, I stretch all throughout my body, ending with my hands high above my head, stretching into the ceiling. My mouth getting ready to yawn when a bang was heard next door, like a book being chucked against the wall ajoined with my neighbors apartment causing me to yelp. I’m pretty sure I heard a chuckle in response to my scream. I glared at the wall, thinking of all the ways I could storm in there and punch my neighbor. I had two choices. I could storm in there and do all the things I wish I could do, or I could mind my business and get ready for the day.

Rolling my eyes I decided to just get ready. I still wanted payback, however, I blasted Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now by The Smiths as I head into the showe. I grab brown trousers, a white button up, and a sage green set of lace undergarments. Not that anyone would see them, unfortunately there has been a drought of sorts in my pants. I just wear them for the aesthetic. Getting undressed, I put on my favorite playlist with all of the songs that make me feel like I’m the main character in an indie film. I heard a light tapping at my door, like some wanted my attention but at the same time wished I never paid attention to them. I decided to ignore it and step under the stream of water in my shower.

Once I was all finished with my shower, I stepped out into my foggy bathroom. Singing along to Bug Collector by Haley Heynderickx, I start drying off and slip on my outfit for the day. I keep my hair in a towel to help it dry some so I don’t have to use any heat on my hair. For my makeup I decided to go for a red lip, neutral blush, mascara, and brows today. Something simple and professional. I let my hair out of the towel and brush it out, not doing too much to it. Blowing myself a kiss in the mirror, I grab my purse and wrap my student ID around my neck, letting it fall next to the golden flower chained to my neck.When I open the door, I laugh in shock at the note my neighbor left for me.“nice taste in music”

I felt something against my leg and knew exactly who it was. “Hi, Payton,” I sweetly spoke to the Sphynx cat at my feet. I named her Payton even though she’s not technically mine and just wanders through the apartment complex. I bend down to give her scratches at her neck. “How’s my cutie patootie. Did you see the asshole who left this not?” She just tilted her head more into my hand, telling me to keep on scratching. “Guess not.” I stand back up and check the time on my watch, “Shit”. I had five minutes to get there.

-----

A bell rang as I entered the coffee shop I was supposed to meet my mentor at, of course with my favorite mask on. My eyes scan the place a little before I walk up to the counter to order my favorite drink. “Hi can I just get a 16 ounce Earl Grey, please?” The barista said something along the lines of yes of course and how my total was 2.16. “Alrighty, thank you.” It didn’t take too long for it to be done. They weren’t very busy and it’s just a tea bag and hot water.

“Excuse me, are you Y/F/N Y/L/N?” 

Woah. His voice sent a tingle down my spine. Probably just because I haven’t had much human contact or the fact that I haven’t been laid in a while but, my god, what I would give for him to say my name again. But that was nothing compared to what I saw when I turned around. I’m just glad I was wearing a mask so he didn’t the way my lips parted when my eyes met his. He had curly brown hair and he dressed like an old man, doesn’t sound like much but for me, that’s everything. Oh my gosh, and he had nerdy little cute glasses? When I realized I was staring I averted my eyes and started blushing.

“Um, yes, hi, that’s my name. I’m so sorry, but what’s your name?” The tremor in my voice made me want to just drop dead. I’m a woman of science but if the Earth knew how to open up and swallow people, now would be the time to prove it.

“Oh hi. I’m Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m your psychology mentor. Did your professor not tell you?” He seemed so confused, oh my god he’s so cute.

“Oh. Oh my God I’m so sorry! My professor didn’t let us know who was mentoring us, just in case we did prior research or something. I’m sorry. But yes um I’m Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you, sir,” I kept on rambling, looking anywhere but his eyes. Unfortunately, it made me look like I was checking him out. Oh fuck.

Chuckling a bit, he goes, “Oh no your fine. No need to apalogize. It’s a pleasure to meet you miss Y/N.” Not going to lie, the way he said my name sent tingles to my pussy. Oh my god what is wrong with me! I can’t be thinking these things about the person who is going to mentor me! Stop being so horny.

I started to blush and I cleared my throat and gestured towards the window. “Um, should we go sit out there?”

“Oh yes of course. Please after you,” he said, his hand finding the small of my back, hitching my breath and making me nervously mess with the rings on my fingers. We sat at the iron tables outside of the coffee shop, he pulled my chair open for me, finally his hands off of me. I felt like I could breathe again but at the same time I felt sad, empty. He took off his mask to take a sip of what he was drinking and holy shit. He had some scruff and his lips just looked so inviting. I wanted to distract from the silence that was biting at me. “So, uh, what do you do?” My voice trailing off, making everything so much heavier with awkwardness and the sexual tension that was just coming from me.

“What do you mean what do I do?” Fuck. I looked so stupid of course he does something in pschology. That’s the whole reason you’re here.

“W-well, um, like what specific area do you work in?”

“I do criminal profiling with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.” My eyebrows bunch together in confusion. What does that have to do with psychology? Almost as if he’s reading my mind he continues, “We psycho analyze crime scenes, victims, bodies to understand why a criminal would do what they did, which helps us to understand the type of person they are, their background, and it leads us to the criminal, or unsub.”

“Wow that’s actually really cool. But, like, how does that all work?”

“Tell me, Y/N, when was the last time you had sex?” I didn’t say anything. I was so shocked. First off, how inappropriate, but also how did he know? “When I first walked in, you kept on looking me up and down as if you’ve never seen a man before. You keep fidgeting with your rings. Usually new jewelry makes people fidget but the stains on your fingers suggest you wear rings frequently which means you're nervous. Also ever since I’ve taken my mask offyou haven’t stopped staring at my lips. So, sweet girl, tell me when was the last time you were satisfied?”

I just sat there, gapping at him like a fish out of water. What was I supposed to say? Why thank you for asking, although the last time I’ve had sex was a year ago but the last time I’ve orgasmed has been longer? Before I could come up with an answer he got a phone call. Someone named Morgan needed him or something. Whatever it was, it seemed urgent.“Sorry our meeting got cut short, Y/N. Very important FBI business came up. Here is my card, has my name, email and phone number. I recommend calling me because I don’t usually check my emails or my texts. Your professor already gave me your contact information so I know how to find you. I am very excited for the upcoming months.”

“Oh- uh, thank you,” I whispered, still shocked. He grabs my hand so that he can hand me my card since I haven’t moved a muscle. 

“Oh and Y/N?” My head wips up at him and I let out a “hmm?” that could be mistaken for a moan. “Green is a nice color on you.” Confused, I looked down to see my button up shirt had popped open, letting my green covered tits be seen by the world. Eyes blown open, I immediately cover myself and say a thank you that sounded so embarrassing because my voice cracked. He just chucked and told me he would contact me soon. Before he left, I could’ve sworn he looked at me as if I was a sexy hollywood actress or something. But I brushed it off. Maybe he was concerned for me. After all, I had my tits out and made it obvious that I was desperately horny. God these five months will be awful if I keep thinking about Dr. Reid as a sex partner than a mentor. Then again the concept of having sex with your mentor can be hot. Nope. No. I should stop there.

[gravesightings]

modern technology: with or against? - the collector, brahms, chromeskull, sinclair brothers

are the slashers with or against modern technology?

Asa Emory / The Collector

with 100%. he already uses technology regularly so he’d definitely be on board for some improvement. considering a certain someone had the audacity to break all of his precious displays.

better motion triggers? better cameras? sign. him. up. he’s an academic so he’d have no problem figuring out how everything works. just give him a few minutes and he’ll have everything set up in no time.

starts tinkering on his traps and upgrades the state of his collection immediately. his tarantulas are finally going to get better enclosures! sturdier tank displays for the sewn bodies! huzzah!

asa is already dangerous with the bare minimum - now equipped with better gear, he’s truly horrifying. he’s going to be much better at not being caught. let’s be honest, he’ll probably get drunk with power in the near future.

he is, most definitely, going to put trackers on his victims. no the shock collars are not for his beloved dogs, silly! those are for his victims too.

Brahms Heelshire

WITH, all the way. he is going to be so, so dangerous with modern technology. once he figures out how to get wifi, it’s game over. this man is LOADED so he’s going to have the best stuff too.

like asa, he would need little to no help at all. brahms is naturally very studious and he’s got all the time in the world.

two words: hidden cameras. out with peering into rooms through the holes in the walls, in with having a designated area for all his monitors so he can indulge in all his voyeuristic glory in the comfort of his man-cave.

potentially his new approach in getting victims.

in true, awful bastard man fashion, he’s most likely going to J.O in his man-cave while watching his victim in the shower. maybe he’ll have a little shrine in there too, complete with distasteful pictures.

Jesse Cromeans / Chromeskull

WITH, no doubt. all aboard the technology train! this man also uses quite a lot already and could definitely use an upgrade. cosmetic surgery? sign him up. his face could use a bit more work.

much easier to find victims and track them down if they manage to escape. digital footprints are godsend. oh, you have a security system? he has a jammer. he’s always one step ahead.

plays around in the deep web. let’s just say he’d one of the best if he chooses to be a hitman online. if not, that’s where he’ll get all his latest tech from. weapons, gadgets, possible candidates. what more could you ask for? (LAID TO REST SEQUEL HELLO ?????)

he probably won’t ditch his knives or his mask. he would have a fancy-ass gun with a silencer on him at the most. while there are a lot of weapons in the market now that would do the job more efficiently, jesse would want to stick to his roots.

would he go digital with his recordings? depends if he’s sentimental and would prefer keeping physical tapes. or, he could be hosting his own red room and has everything backed up. (I am once again asking for a laid to rest sequel that goes this route)

BONUS: uses text-to-speech to tickle his fucked-up sense of humour. nothing more terrifying than a slasher taunting you in the monotone google voice.

Sinclair Brothers / Bo, Vincent and Lester

if possible - they’d take advantage. the only way they’d be able to get new tech is by looting their victims. bo is strongly against buying anything they don’t need. (mostly because they don’t have a lot of spending money to begin with.) sure, generators would be nice but why are they so fucking expensive?

the most they could potentially get would be fancy camping gear and a few gadgets. because of the shitty reception they would either have to memorize all the decent spots (sort of useful, so they can keep the victims away from it) or just ditch the cellphones altogether. lester would definitely keep one for himself, along with a number of “cool” things he can find.

if they’re lucky they could score a couple of walkie-talkies. would be useful in theory, but the sibling bickering wouldn’t be worth it - at least in vincent’s opinion. (he won’t turn it off, but have the volume at the minimum)

bo could improve the place with camping gear, tinker with it a bit to make ambrose appear more realistic. he could definitely figure out how to set the lights to turn on and off at certain times with the right materials. and even more moving wax figures! if they were to score hunting gear, he might even set up traps.

vincent is the true neutral here. he acknowledges the funky little gadgets, might study with them for a while and just kind of leave it at that. (if a victim happens to have a drawing tablet however, that’s another story.) lester would be the most enthusiastic out of the three, while bo really just wants to make the most out of all the junk.

[urslasherbaby]

Imagine The Collector with a surviving sister imagine she's his baby sister who he's very protective of. Now imagine that his best friend Chromeskull is very much crushing in her.

I’m not gonna lie... this prompt is AMAZING to think about 🤣

Thank you so much for allowing me to bring to life!

(Also sorry if it’s super long, I kept adding and adding because I’m in love with the premise)

The Sister Rule - The Collector/Asa Emory x Chromeskull/Jesse Cromeans x Little Sister!Reader

Ever since you were a child, you had relyed on Asa to protect you. Whenever the big kids at school would tease you for playing with the bugs and plants in the schoolyard, Asa would be there in a second to crush them into the dirt. He’d fail, a lot, given he wasn’t the behemoth that he is now, but he always did without a second thought--which is what really warmed your heart.

After what happened though... things had changed. The brightness in his eyes had flattened and turned empty. You could tell waking up in the hospital after the attack. He was still your caring big brother, Asa... but caring had soon turned into vigilance. You didn’t mind, of course. It had affected you pretty greatly too, after all. 

Maybe it was the fact that the only reliable man in your life had been your brother, but you’d found yourself becoming attracted to a certain “type” of man. Particularly the “fuck-her-hard-now-fuck-her-over-later” type. Asa hated it of course but hey, what girl can resist a bad boy?

In fact, you’d gone a local nightclub to find yourself someone for tonight. Sneaking out of your own house as a grown woman had hurt your pride a bit, but not as much as it would’ve been hurt had Asa caught you. Professors just love to lecture, don’t they?

Taking a brief look around, you could see you already had eyes locked onto you. The red velvet bodycon dress you were wearing was certainly grabbing some attention. Even the bartender had given you a look over before attending some other guest.

You made your way over the to the bar, greeting the bartender who was checking you out with a wide grin.

“How can I help you, miss?” he says, returning your smile with fervor.

“How about a vodka cran to start,” you answer. A guy chuckles beside you and turns to look you up and down.

“No way a girl like you should be drinking some cheap drink like that,” the stranger interrupts, “Get her one of mine if you please, barkeep, on me.”

The bartender nods his head and instead pours you a glass of some top-shelf bourbon. He pushes the glass toward you and you cheers with the man next to you.

He taps your glass with a clink and downs the rest of his while you steadily sip yours.

“Good right? This place has some of the best bourbons in town,” he exclaimed. You nod your head.

“Well, I’m more of a whiskey girl, but it is some damn good bourbon,” you reply with a smirk. The look on the stranger’s face was pure excitement.

“God, just the fact you’re a girl who can tell the difference is enough to send me to the moon,” he gushes. You have to laugh. He wasn’t exactly your type--a little too eager--but you figured he’d be enough to satiate your appetite.

 “You know I actually have a pretty nice whiskey collection back at my apartment if you’re interested,” the stranger offers with a shy smile. You bite your lip and cock your head.

“Do you really?”

“No... but I figure its the only way to get a girl like you to come home with me,” he joked.

Just as you were about to respond, you felt your phone vibrate in your clutch purse. Great, Asa probably found you out. Quicker than usual, too.

You raise a finger at the man to pause your conversation and open the message on your phone. An unknown number?

I wouldn’t if I were you.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Who the hell...? You spun your head around the club to try and find your anonymous helper. Another buzz brought your attention back to your phone.

Trust me. Shmuck’s been working the same angle on every poor girl who walks in. Peep the blonde in the corner giving you daggers.

Lifting your head, you sure enough saw a cute blonde woman giving you and the man the stink eye. 

You had to chuckle to yourself before the stranger waves a hand in your face in attempt to refocus your attention back onto him. 

“Hey, thought I lost you for a bit,” he said, laughing off your newfound disinterest. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Not gonna lie... you just might have,” you reply, “but the perky blonde in the corner still looks interested.” Another buzz:

Good choice.

His jaw dropped to the floor as you gulped down the rest of your drink and left him to his own devices. You walked outside of the club and pressed call on your phone to find your mysterious savior, but the call went straight to an empty voicemail. Suddenly a black luxury car pulled up right in front of you and another text:

Get in. Bug Boy’s already waiting for us back home.

Bug Boy? So this was Asa’s way of coming to snatch you away. Well, if he was going to send one of his professor friends to ruin your night, you might as well have your fun.

Sorry. My brother told me to never get in cars with strange men.

Really? How about a little gratitude?

How about I get a look at whoever I’m supposed to be grateful to?

You heard a shuffling coming from the car and out popped a very tall man from the driver’s side. He came around to your side and revealed himself to be at least 6′ 5″ with a chrome mask hiding his face. The man pulled out his phone a quickly typed another message:

Hi. Get in the car.

That’s when it finally clicked for you. “Ah... so you’re that kind of friend,” you greet with a smirk, “Poor Asa’s probably pissed I messed up his plans, but then again, if I can’t fuck, he can’t kill.”

You drank in the shock on his face as you opened the door and stepped into the luxury vehicle. The man finally came back in from the other side and typed out another message on his phone. He held it up for you to see:

You know?

“Everything. I guess I’m not supposed to approve of murder but, given our shared background, it doesn’t really faze me,” you answer, leaning close to him. You purposely push out more of your cleavage, relishing in how he was drinking you in. “At least he keeps the cute ones.”

When you finally made it back home, Asa was already waiting for you two on the front porch, looking as steamed as ever. His arms were crossed and he was wearing that same frown that greeted you every Saturday night when you snuck out. You turn your attention back over to Jesse for a moment, however, and smile at him. 

“Give it to me straight: how pissed is he?” you ask. He quickly retrieves his phone and types out a response:

You’re probably fucked... but not as much as I’m gonna be.

You cock your head in confusion. “Why would you be in trouble with Asa? Didn’t you already do your job?”

Considering he did call me to track your phone and find you, yes I did. But then he did give me express instructions not to go after you.

“And why come after me anyway?” you press further, stepping closer to him.

I wanted to meet Bug Boy’s precious little sister. Suffice to say... I wasn’t disappointed.

You chuckled to yourself and smirked at him. Maybe this night wasn’t a total wash...

“Well, I hope whatever punishment you get is worth it,” you say, leaning up to him and placing a chaste kiss on his neck. For you, the low groan that rumbled in his chest was worth the whole mess that was tonight. You step back down and walk around the car, never taking your eyes off of him as you do. Finally, your savior notices Asa’s distinct scowl and retreated back into his car. 

Before you could rush your way inside, Asa grabbed your arm and pulled you close.

“You do realize I’ll kill him if he keeps sniffing around you like a dog,” he growls. 

“And do you realize anything you do to him, I do to you?” you reply with as much innocence as you can. You open the door and make your way inside when suddenly your phone buzzes again.

See you next time, princess. 

You smirk to yourself and quickly respond:

Only if we finish what we started...

Fucking hell, Asa really was going to kill you both.

[yue-muffin]

Time Raiders (2016)

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

In my quest to consume the entirety of the DMBJ franchise available in English, I have decided to start with the non-canon movie because at least this one has an ending, unlike the train wreck that is Reboot/Chongqi’s pacing. I will probably be bitter about that for all eternity, but I digress. I heard good things about the movie from the bird app, and as I am a Pingxie shipper at heart, I decided to finally watch this one.

P A R T O N E

The cut-in animation to the title was gorgeous, I do so love the qilin in every adaptation. It’s particularly striking here with the gold outline and geometric, maze-like lines. It looks like the cards at the very beginning were being arranged in the image of this qilin.

My first reaction upon seeing white people in a dmbj adaptation is: oh no, the English, but I was pleasantly surprised to hear perfect English that matches the actor’s lips! What a miracle, haha. I remember The Lost Tomb 2 being the worst for how many lines had to be in English, sob.

These look so cool. I see we start off with a good old “seeking immortality” antagonist, and an obsessed collector who has dedicated his whole life to this apparently. As usual, he is a scumbag threatening the locals.

The old guy’s accented English is also better than TLT2, ha. The breathy/nasal quality is not at all uncommon. I don’t know what language the locals speak though.

Me, immediately: Zhang Qiling already??

I know he appears in rather early in TLT1, TLT2, and Reboot/Chongqi, but he’s so often mysteriously absent or stuck behind a gate (or in Reboot’s case, put on a bus) that I got excited, ok.

My favorite Zhang Qilings are the cold-looking pretty boy types in terms of my mental image of the character, but this one is also very easy on the eyes and as usual, unfazed in the face of danger coming at him with a knife. This is the only series in which I’m not bothered by the constant cast change between adaptations (unlike Ever Night), I suppose since it’s been this way from the start.

I’m interested in seeing how the backstories differ from canon. It’s actually rather interesting that this is pretty much an official AU, like that’s kind of wild as a concept. I’m used to the late 1990s/early 2000s anime adding new characters and changing plot points and endings everywhere, but Time Raiders takes it a step further.

Zhang Qiling being an ultra-competent badass who doesn’t even need a weapon to take the bad guys down never changes, no matter the universe. He steamrolls everyone, no questions asked.

Did he- he break the blade with his bare hands hahaha. Oh, yup, and a Zhang Qiling with a weapon is even more dangerous. I see those severed fingers. Such a good fight scene and we’re not even 5 minutes into the movie.

I love how he could have simply fired the arrow while he was still on the statue, then jumped down, but he had to be Extra and fire while he was jumping off haha.

It- the divine piece was right there?? By “beneath the statue” I would have thought it would at least be under it, not in a convenient little slot on the side of the altar area haha. So Zhang Qiling’s mission is to destroy the divine piece(s)? To, um, save the world apparently.

WHO ARE YOU? What an excellent question to ask a Zhang Qiling (and that staring into the mirror shot, too.)… I wonder if this one even knows - it’s possible he doesn’t have his signature amnesia here.

Wait- a gate? I think it’s in a cave or something in the novels, but gates have significance in DMBJ. The cinematography is really nice in these mountain shots. I know nothing about film, but I like the shots in the snowy mountains.

This Zhang Qiling knows and practices martial arts on screen! You would think he’d pull some moves normally, but in the drama-adaptations he tends to just beat people up as efficiently as possible. Sometimes with his sword. Other times he just fights ‘em. I have to admit Jing Boran looks excellent going through some forms. He nailed the force and power underlying every movement, then exploding outward with a strike. I do like the impression it leaves.

I, on the other hand, am an absolute noodle and look ridiculous when I do martial arts.

What in the world is happening in this flashback scene with the weird CGI qilin. Ah, it’s when he received his tattoo. That was super dramatic.

Wushanju is looking real edgy with the heavy iron gate on the interior, haha.

He is puzzling (ha!) over those cards so intensely you’d think it was a thousand piece puzzle instead haha. You’re almost there! Just a few more to finish the qilin!

Aw, is this our Wu Xie? Haha his facial hair is- hm. But I love his voice it’s so soft. Really fits that “Mr. Naive” vibe.

Is that. Is that the author of the series. I found out that he makes cameos in almost all (if not all of) the adaptations!

NO. ONLY I CAN FINISH THE PUZZLE. HANDS OFF BUDDY.

Why are there so many pigeons in here. Who let them inside.

A writer, who came to hear his story and turn it into a novel- HA yup it’s the author.

“This should be a story about me and him.”

Ahh I’m loving it already. DMBJ is the ultimate bromance story. Fair warning, I do ship Pingxie so my shipper goggles will be on throughout the movie. But even without shipping, you do have to admit the series is a bromance underneath all the mystery – between the Iron Triangle, between Wu Xie and Xiaoge.

This Wu Xie is a photographer and that is sort of adorable. Already there’s a theme emerging of needing to record events and telling stories. Interesting that he wants to turn his memories into a novel to record his experiences, because otherwise he’s afraid those memories might turn into a mere story in his own head. Wu Xie, that’s a worrying mindset.

Those ancient mask things always make me crack up, I don’t know why.

Ooh, background about Wu Xie’s birth into the Wu family. I’ve never read up to the part in the books where they go into his place in the family in detail. To be fair, his grandfather had three sons and only one of them had any kids – and Wu Xie is his parents’ only child. So, he becomes the only one who can really carry on the family legacy. Aw, I really like seeing his extended family present though! In the dramas we only ever get either his Second or Third Uncle, and he rarely ever mentions his parents even though they’re alive.

And there’s his namesake! The origin of his nickname, and the irony once the story gets into the Sha Hai timeline.

Wu Xie was a bit of a rascal as a kid, haha. To be fair he has a pretty sharp tongue in the novels and is mostly a pure cinnamon roll in the early dramas.

Little Wu Xie in a suit is so adorable. Nooo kid don’t go into locked up abandoned places. He’s already so adventurous haha. Seems that it’s not actually abandoned judging by all the lights on, but.

UH. MASKED MAN BEHIND YOU. I think he wants that item back. This is why you don’t go into abandoned places, kid. He definitely does not learn his lesson though. Also why are you still holding onto that thing, just drop it, I think he wants it back.

Haha he kept one of the coins.

WOAH. Every month someone in your family dies?? That’s uh- sort of traumatic. Also that would be a really good first line for a novel…Just saying. I do love the singing though.

Oh, the Nine Families exist in this universe too! They even give a quick explanation about the ranking system.

Oh yeah, I love how Wu Xie is such a nerd for all this knowledge of ancient texts and tombs. And YES HE FINALLY DOCUMENTS STUFF FOR ONCE.

Uncle Three looked dead for a moment there, scared the shit out of me too.

VAMPIRE MOTHS? Oh I hate bugs I would not be okay lol. WHOOPS. You guys are really good at reading ancient texts on the fly lol.

That’s the mask he has in the beginning of the film, isn’t it. NO DON’T TOUCH THINGS IN TOMBS. AHHH. So you just put it on your face?? Well that was a stupidly simple way to open the door. I’m guessing the creator didn’t care if anyone opened it.

This guy just severed his own arm, ok…and how many years later is his hand still clinging to it? UH. THIS IS WHY YOU DON’T TOUCH THINGS IN TOMBS. Then he proceeds to steal the box thing.

Ah the white dude again. I am so happy there is GOOD ENGLISH though haha.

Oh, hi Zhang Qiling. Just hanging out on a rooftop I see.

He looks so melancholy. Someone give him a hug! This adaptation makes him more human, less stoic robotic superhuman, I noticed. You rarely see him eat or drink anything in the other adaptations, but here he’s just chilling on a rooftop having some drinks haha. It’s ok. I love all the Zhang Qilings.

WHAT THE HELL, LIGHTNING? What the hell is this high tech machinery haha. Eight days? Coincidentally eight days after sitting in a tomb for how many years.

That is a very Extra bookcase to hold a book that apparently has ALL the secrets.

WOW that is a fancy notebook. It looks so beat up in the other versions haha. In this one, it even gets its own hidden shelf in a giant portable bookshelf!

The props for this franchise are so cool and detailed. I always wish they would show more of the creative process in the BTS, I’m such a nerd for that stuff. The Longest Day in Chang’an was pretty good at that, which is half of my enjoyment of that show haha!

I’m also still pleasantly surprised they bothered to incorporate other languages. I’m not sure what the Snake Lady and the old man in the beginning were speaking, but at least the English is good.

I can’t believe they worked in a steampunk chastity belt this movie went all out, huh. Also with these weirdly high tech structures and lightning and moving tomb structures.

And all the pieces start coming together! So that’s why it’s believed they hold the secret to immortality. What a steampunk-looking key.

Is that a writing desk??

Oh, they’re getting a team together to go tomb raiding! Ha, forget money! You may or may not end up dying on this adventure, so who cares about money, right.

He’s so cute standing there with his camera. Look at the little smile as he watches everything going on!

It’s a desk and a storage container?? Oh, there are ~qualifications~ to going on tomb raiding. Makes sense. That is the oddest looking sword.

Must appreciate Zhang Qiling’s fingers in every adaptation. They look very strong and steady here. Let’s not talk about the slooow trailing across the handle.

Wow did you really just throw sand in his face. Have we not learned not to mess with Zhang Qiling after he trounced that first guy who attacked him. I love the fight scenes so much after the bore-fest that was Reboot/Chongqi’s second half of Season 1.

Super pretty, but why did it cause him to stop and stare in the middle of the fight?

This is like a Final Fantasy sword haha. Also I think you should stop while you’re ahead, why did you think a table would stop this dude. (Hey, it’s Da Kui! He was in the novel but not TLT1.).

It’s HERE. Their first meeting. How did he know the coin was on that cord? It wasn’t visible, I don’t think. But uh. That was a hilarious move on his part, he is so Extra?? He just casually flicks the necklace off with his big-ass sword and it drops into his hand. Then casually goes “oh, here, you dropped this” as if he wasn’t the one responsible for it coming off in the first place!!

HERE IT COMES. The unnecessarily long eye contact. Pingxie in every adaptation needs a Staring Into Your Eyes scene.

Real smooth.

Ahh this Wu Xie is such a cutie. He’s like a puppy.

WHAT. Third Uncle, I can’t believe you let him tag along so easily haha. In the beginning he was scolding Wu Xie to never get involved in tomb business, then what happens? They’re going tomb raiding!!

Next Up: to the tomb we go! This can’t end badly or anything what are you talking about.

[slash-em-up]

Sanctuary: The Collector x Reader

A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE TO YOU ALL!!!! Why not start the holiday off right with some slasher goodness?? This is a holiday gift for the lovely, amazing, cursed, CCO @voorheehees LOVE YOU KAT!!!

—————————————————————

You had no idea how things had gone so wrong so fast.

Asa had awoken you from a deep sleep, looking like he’d just walked through hell to come find you. He was covered in small burns and favoring one leg as he quietly told you to pack a bag and get to the car as quickly as possible.

The chilly December air nipped at your fingers as you were hustled into the old green Buick, quietly asking the stiff man at your side where the dogs were.

Asa didn’t respond, which was enough to tell you that your canine companions would not be joining you on your journey.

The car smelled strongly of smoke and the tang of iron blood; and you took another long look at Asa as he fiddled with the radio, quickly finding a local news channel before starting the car and driving away from your quiet neighborhood.

You opened your mouth to ask for an explanation when the newscaster mentioned the Argento – you were immediately and entirely focused as the story (or some version of it) was laid out in unemotional reporting.

The fire, the bodies, Arkin O’Brian, and the masked serial killer who’d been threatening the city… thought to be dead in the blaze.

Your gaze returned to Asa, finding his jaw clenched and his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

“Asa, I..”

You were brusquely interrupted.

“Don’t.”

You closed your mouth, turning away to stare out the window at the cars speeding past on the highway.

“Where are we going?” You softly inquired.

It took a moment for Asa to answer, his voice uncharacteristically rough when he did.

“My family had a cabin on a lake about two and a half hours from here. I still technically own it. It’s as good a place as any to lay low for awhile.”

It didn’t feel right for you to be the pragmatic one in your relationship; but you had to ask…

“Won’t people wonder where we went?”

Asa let out a small chuckle that was anything but humorous.

“I was planning on taking you there this week anyway. For Christmas. Myrtle and Hiram promised to check our mail.”

That was… unexpected. Though you’d been together for well over two years now, you had yet to celebrate any holiday’s together. Asa had expressed his disdain for the seasonal celebrations on multiple occasions (especially Thanksgiving for some reason he refused to share); scoffing at your happy recollections of family Christmases and Easters.

So to have him plan something like this was unanticipated in the extreme – and you knew that were the final circumstances surrounding your swift departure different you’d be giddy at the prospect of sharing the Yuletide with Asa.

The early morning sun was covered by grey clouds, and the first drifts of white snow began to fall gently as you curled up in your seat and fell back into a fitful slumber.

You woke up in a bed you didn’t recognize.

The momentary panic this brought you quickly abated as you discovered yourself wrapped tightly in Asa’s large winter coat, and saw both your bags sitting by the gigantic picture window against one wall.

With a sigh, you leaned back and surveyed your surroundings – they were quite frankly atrocious if you were being completely honest.

Not the bones of the room - high wood beams and a small fireplace giving the space the potential for coziness; but the décor had clearly not been updated since the 60’s, and every surface you saw was covered in a thick layer of dust.

‘Something to work on tomorrow…’

Shuffling noises from the nearby ensuite drew your attention, and you could see Asa through the cracked door, shirtless, clad only in his boxers, gingerly dabbing some type of ointment on fresh pink burns that littered his torso.

You watched quietly until he picked up a needle and surgical thread, moving to sew together a slice on his midriff.

Quietly crawling out of the warm bed, you pulled his coat closer around your body as you stepped into the bathroom.

Asa looked up at you without comment as you surveyed the damage done by his eventful evening.

Burns covered knife wounds, both small and large and one eye was beginning to swell with what you suspected would be quite an impressive shiner by the next morning. His jaw was likewise beginning to show signs of bruising; and you had to hold back a sympathetic wince, knowing he wouldn’t appreciate your pity.

“Let me.”

You took the needle from his hand, noting that he’d already stitched up a small puncture above his knee – that must have hurt like a mother fucker.

He did no more than sigh as you quickly pulled the thread through, neatly closing the wound, before wrapping it in soft gauze and surgical tape.

Surveying your work with a critical eye, you were surprised when a large hand rose to wrap itself in your hair, pulling your head down to rest against Asa’s. Forehead to forehead you stared into his jet-colored eyes, trying to make your gaze say what your mouth wouldn’t.

‘I’m glad you’re alright. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I need you. I love you.’

Asa closed his eyes and shivered, feeling the weight of the day come down on him all at once. He rose slowly, still holding you close, and walked you both back to the bed.

He was out like a light the second his head hit the pillow; but you stayed awake. Watching the bruised face of the man you couldn’t help but love soften in sleep.

The future was more uncertain than it had ever been before for the both of you; but you knew that whatever happened, you’d face it by his side.

———————————————————————

Asa slept through the day, and into the next evening.

You’d taken it upon yourself to make the old cabin a bit more habitable while you waited for him to wake.

The snow, which had begun falling in earnest when you’d poked your head through the god-awful puce curtains that first morning now coated the forest and nearby lake like frosting.

You were eternally grateful that Asa’s bug-out supplies held a large selection of canned goods, otherwise you might have starved or needed to brave the treacherous roads in search of food. An ancient tea kettle served it’s purpose well enough, and after a thorough dusting, you sat contemplating the winter wonderland outside the window, hands curled around a steaming mug of earl grey.

The fireplace crackled with burning wood as you made every effort to warm the large living room – age and disuse making the electric heater give a sad splutter before wheezing out a small gust of warm air, barely enough to feel – thus, a fire, and several layers of thick blankets had become your best friends as you rested on the couch.

The coffee table in front of you held the spoils of your cleaning endeavors- two worn photographs of the cabins former residents.

It was easy to see where Asa got his looks from – he’d grown from a small, chubby boy into the spitting image of his father. But what you were most interested in was the mousy woman and three slender girls standing to either side of Asa and his father.

The contrast between the two pictures was startling – the image of the whole family showed a bleak, unsmiling group – the large man who’s face Asa now bore grasping the shoulder of his wife and son perhaps a bit tighter than he ought, while the three young girls (Asa’s sisters?), stood straight backed, and wide-eyed.

The second was a picture of just the children.

The sisters and Asa were scattered about on the same couch you now inhabited; gathered around an old board game. One of the girls looked like she had been caught mid-laugh, and the other two were smiling widely as well. The tiny boy who would grow to be the man resting upstairs was standing, arms thrown up in what you could assume was victory – looking like the very picture of youthful innocence and joy.

“That was the last time we stayed here.”

You gasped in surprise and whirled in your seat, finding Asa standing a few feet behind you.

“I’m sorry… I found them while I was dusting… I…”

He waved from your apologies, coming to sit next to you with a low groan, clearly still feeling the impact of That Night on his body.

Asa lightly ran a finger around the corners of the picture of himself and the girls, a small smile quirking the corner of his bruised mouth.

“It was always… good… when we were here. Father spent most of his time out in his workshop, so we’d be left to amuse ourselves. This was the first time I’d beaten Erin at Monopoly.”

You didn’t want to interrupt this uncharacteristic peak into Asa’s past; but you couldn’t help but ask;

“Erin?”

Asa nodded.

“My oldest sister. Erin, Patricia, and Clara.”

“They were very pretty.”

Asa snorted. “No, they weren’t. They looked too much like mother… but they were smart.”

His fingers glided over to the second picture of the entire family; mouth thinning into a firm line before he turned the image over – revealing handwritten text.

‘The Emory Family: Giles, Anne, Erin, Patricia, Clara, Asa – 1976’

He leaned back into the couch, lost in thought, and you took the opportunity to scoot in a bit closer to his side.

You wrapped an arm through his and leaned your head against his shoulder, smiling a bit as you felt his gaze turn back to you and huff in amusement.

Threading your fingers together – being cautious of his bruised knuckles, you squeezed his hand affectionately.

“Thank you for bringing me here.”

“We’ll go back to the city in a week – wait for things to die down again and start over…”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

Asa made a questioning noise.

“I mean, even if things hadn’t all gone to hell, you were going to bring me here, to your family’s cabin, where you have good memories… for Christmas. That means a lot to me.”

The large man next to you said nothing, always awkward and uncomfortable when things became emotional.

He cleared his throat.

“I’ll shovel the driveway tomorrow morning … there should still be a pine farm close by if you want to go pick out a tree…”

You grasped his head gently between your hands and planted a soft kiss on his lips, cutting off whatever else he would have said.

“That sounds perfect. Now come over here and hold me before I freeze to death.”

Asa did chuckle at this, and returned your smile with one of his own as he pulled you in closer to his body, rubbing your arm through the blanket.

You both turned to quietly watch the snow fall, hiding you away from the world and it’s worries for just a little while. No matter what came in the future, you knew you’d hold this Christmas close to your heart.

Just like Asa had known in his youth, sometimes all you needed to make the world seem less bleak was a little sanctuary.

[hunterxassasin]

Dark Cupid pt 1

I decided to make Dark Cupid a multi parter with the hope of being able to write it quicker and a bit more efficiently.

Slight note - this happens after The Collector. In this au the Collector is a very early Akuma 

----

Marinette was awoken by her phone going off. She groaned and sat up, picking up the device from the floor. After taking a few seconds to blink the sleep from her eyes, she unlocked the screen and read over the messages that had accumulated throughout the night. One from Nino, another from Ivan, several from Rose, and finally the one that had woken her up, 6 from Alya including the one sent this morning.

02/13

9:18pm Alya: Girl I can't believe you're going to bring in stuff for valentines day after what happened 

9:20pm Alya: I swear I'll punch Kim in the throat for you if he even looks in your direction, just say the word and I'll do it

9:37pm Ayla: Nino says he'll help me beat Kim up I just asked him 

9:52pm Ayla - okay maybe he didn't say he'd help directly but i know he will girl, Nino loves you just as much as I do

10:45pm Ayla: did you really fall asleep on me? Figures, I'll text you tomorrow morning!

02/14

5:56am Ayla: morning girl, omw to your place to come get you for school and help you carry stuff like you asked. I'm still willing to put Kim in a headlock for you

Marinette giggled at the messages, tossing her phone onto her bed as she stood up with a stretch. Alya, despite usually only fighting with words, was ready to seemingly beat Kim to a pulp for her, and though it was physical violence it made Marinette happy to know Alya really was her best friend. 

She quickly got dressed, taking the light pink dress out of her closet and slipping it on. She did her hair in a braid and draped it over her shoulder before grabbing her bag and heading downstairs when she heard the doorbell ring. That was definitely Alya, especially since she heard the door open right after which means whoever it was just let themselves in and the only two people who did that were Alya and Kim, and the latter. . .well he didn't come around anymore so the only logical option was Ayla. 

Marinette grinned when her best friend greeted her with a wave. "Hey girl, looking fabulous as always." Alya threw in a wink, causing Marinette to let a giggle escape her lips.

"I could say the same to you." She gestured to the dark, orangey brown colored sweater Alya was wearing, accompanied by a hand knit cream scarf. 

"I only wear clothes designed by the best." She teased, showing off the Marinette's signature, which was beautifully sewn into the inside of the scarf. "Speaking of clothes, you seem to be lacking something." Alya snorted, glancing down at Marinette's feet, which were bare. 

Marinette instantly turned red and make a small choking sound before rushing back up to her room. After a few minutes of shuffling around the girl finally came back down wearing a pair of cute, pink flats. "I would have left the house barefoot, Alya you're a lifesaver." She said with a heavy sigh, blinking a bit as Alya pinned something to her shirt.

She glanced down, eyeing the small heart pin curiously. "Now you're good to go, Mari. All ready for Valentine's day. You're gonna show Kim just what he's missing out on!" Alya declared, but Marinette only shook her head and noticed the same heart pin on Alya's scarf.

"I'm the one that broke up with him, Alya. There isn't going to be anyone showing anyone else what they're 'missing out on'. It's just going to be a normal Valentine's day. . ." She trailed off, forcing herself not to sigh. This was going to be her first Valentines in a long time without Kim, sure she was upset about it, especially since the breakup was only a few months ago and hadn't been very polite, but she knew she was better off without him. Ever since the new school year had started, Kim had became an ass, and Marinette didn't tolerate it. 

She ended things, telling him that once he learned how to be a better person and treat other people, then maybe they could be friends again at the very least. She shook her head, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Enough of that, you said you were going to help me carry these candy apples to school, let's get going!"

----

When the two girls arrived at school, they were greeted by Adrien and Nino, who graciously offered to help them carry the boxes of heart shaped, candy apples to their classroom. Once they got there, Marinette noticed Adrien was wearing the same pin Alya had given her. The thought that Alya had planned this made her smile, especially when she noticed Nino had the same pin on his hat. 

Today was going to be a good day, there was no doubt in her mind about that. 

That is, until the rest of the class came into the classroom. Marinette bit her lip as she saw Kim enter, holding a bouquet of flowers, along with a small wrapped box. She inhaled sharply as he looked over at her, as if she was expecting him to come to her and apologize for everything he had done right then and there, and ask for her to take him back. She'd accept and then later they'd get married and have three kids and a hamster and be happily ever after.

But that's not what happened, in fact, it was the complete opposite of what she had been thinking.

Instead of coming up to her, Kim made his way over to Chloé Bourgeois of all people, someone he had always seemed to have a disdain for, especially when she started harassing Marinette. 

She barely registered Adrien's hand resting on her shoulder and the sympathetic look he gave her, as she watched Kim walk over to Chloé. Despite how painful it was, she couldn't look away. It felt like she had been kicked in the gut. 

"Marinette?" Nino's voice snapped her out of the daze she was put in. "Marinette, Adrien asked you a question, are you alright? It's not like you to zone out." 

Marinette gave a simple nod, forcing her full attention on Adrien. "Sorry, what did you say?" 

"I asked if you were going to give out the candy apples before or after class, I'd like to help." He gave her his beautiful model smile, one most people couldn't resist. 

Marinette rubbed her temples, straining her ears to listen to Kim and Chloé's conversation over her own voice. "I'll do it in a few minutes, when Ms.Bustier comes in." She stated,shifting her head so she could hear better.

Kim shuffled his feet, and held the flowers out to Chloé, along with the little wrapped box. "Chloé, I was wondering if you'd be my valentine?" He asked, a sweet, dorky smile on his face. As soon as the words came from his mouth, Chloé was laughing hysterically.

"You're ridiculous, utterly ridiculous! Why would I ever be your valentine when I have Adrikins?" She snorted, and shot Adrien a wink, which he recoiled at, shaking his head at her behavior. "Get lost, Kim, you're such a loser, especially since you dated, and got dumped by Dupain-Cheng of all people!" 

Marinette turned a dark red, and looked away, burying her face in the crook of Alya's neck. "Please tell me this is just a bad dream." She groaned, clutching Alya's arm for dear life. 

She didn't notice Kim leave the room, nor did she notice Adrien race after him. 

---

Kim left the classroom as fast as he could, taking a turn into an empty room. Plagg zipped out of the hood of his hoodie, swallowing a piece of cheese. "Look kid, I told you not to do that, and what did you do? You did it anyway. That girl is bad news, and lately you've been just as bad." 

The kwami huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as Kim began to kick the wall. "I thought she liked me, give me a break! I don't have to do everything you say, Plagg, you aren't my boss!" The boy snapped, glaring at the Kwami. 

---

Somewhere, across Paris, a purple glow flashed. "Ah, the anger that comes with having your heart broken by not only one person, but two. Teenagers are so emotional, this should be very interesting." 

The man clasped his hands together, engulfing the pure white insect in a dark purple light. "Fly away my pretty Akuma, and evilize him!"

---

Nothing more was said between the two, not until a small, black butterfly fluttered its way into the room. Plagg noticed it almost immediately. "Kim, I need you to calm down right now." Plagg, eyes wide, backed away from his chosen, eyes the butterfly wearily. 

Kim only growled, shaking his head. "I said I don't have to listen to you!" He threw a chair in Plagg's direction, unknowingly letting the Akuma land on the little heart pin that was on his shirt, the same pin everyone in his class, including Marinette, had been wearing. 

A purple mask engulfed his face. "Hello, Dark Cupid, I'm Hawk Moth. . ."

[fantabulousfunnelweb]

Spider-tober prompt response dump part 2 (Parts 7-11)

200+ Words per prompt, Critique/Feedback Appreciated! (Warning: Vulgar Language use in Day 10)

Day 7: Snack

Convenience stores. The height of suburban dining… At least that was the thought on Funnels brain as they hopped right through the worn-out sliding doors. “Evening Mr Phil!” a mock salute bouncing off their forehead towards the cashier by their right. The entire establishment bore an almost old charm, its middle-aged guardsman standing for what seemed eternally behind the reinforced glass as tired eyes perused whatever customers it had, the novelty of an urban icon in his store fading long ago, leaving the costumed kid just another customer. “What's good today?” The Spiders voice rang from the cold drinks aisle in the far back, eyes perusing the glowing display of drinks as if it were a beacon of hope. Phil perked up attentively at the mention of his name, peering over the counter to catch a view of the inquiring Spider, “Restocked the Candy a day or two ago, no more stale caramel chews.” Funnels cheek let loose a dry huff at the hearing of such news, “Thank god, Ms Marvels been this close to cracking at me about always buying her the stale stuff.” Thankfully the Spider had only himself to look out for tonight, happily spending a portion of his small allowance on a bag of chocolate almonds. “You know the drill kid, I keep quiet about you…” “And I’ll keep quiet about your partner, are they okay?” Phil's brow furrowed, the dense lines of grey hair curving as his eyelids dropped to half-way, a lip-curling on one side like a man who knew too many secrets and wished not to share them with you. “He’s doing okay, My boss would kill me if he caught me with Phil Jr. at work, Pet Policy & all, but he's the only thing that keeps me company.

Day 8: Arms

“Wait, You’ve been making what?” “A Nanotech extension for the suit Kyles, are you even paying attention?” Silence washed over the young man’s expression, answer enough to the Scientist prodding at his suit-clad back incessantly, tweaking minute elements of the metal harness that compressed his shoulder blades. “Wait, why aren’t we just using that suit Stark made for you ages ago?” Maydays grip pushed itself further up his shoulder, grasping at his padded shoulder to provide ample support for their next little check-up, “I dismantled that thing like, last month, where do you think I even got all this Nanotech from?” Kyles tried his best to break what would no doubt be another bout of silence, issuing the first response that comes to mind, “Ahh, Charity? That or you stole it all from SHIELD.” “Shut up Jonathan.” The unmasked Spider perked his brow high, expression fraught with a mix of amusement & frustration, channelling it into a weird scoffing laugh that ultimately leads to his somewhat malicious compliance, “Whatever, you’re the boss, Aunt May.” The nickname came from a place of earnest, and the history behind the mere title was already one in the books, so it put May in a tough spot when it came to receiving it. “Alright, We’re all set.” sealing the harness shut and stepping herself back, the nanotech cylinders submerged within the reinforced plastics & steels that coated Kyles backside, “Put on the mask & hook up the suit, we’ve got tests to run.”

Day 9: Eyes

The deafening crack of wood upon the Spiders impact with the vintage walls echoed around the studio like thunder, giving way to the dull thud that followed moments later. Funnels eyes twitched as they peeled themselves off the concrete bound pool of splinters and onto their feet, hazy vision darting around as they attempted to make heads or tails of where they just ended up. “Ugh… If you’re gonna fight me in an old place like this, can we at least use some rinky-dink music? Like Ragtime or something? I could’ve worn my trilby if I knew this is where we’d end up.” Beck had a lovely habit of being seen soon after being heard, the trudge of his metal, servo clad boots slowly growing louder & louder before silence rocked the old studio once more.

“Oh? You’d love an audience, wouldn’t you?” the regulated fog billowing from the dented valves around the armoured man's jugular, obscuring his face to seem as if the smoke were devouring him. Funnel could barely realize his rhetoric before the building lit up with a spark, cameras spreading out & littering the scene as the supposed studio had much more to than meets the eye, “Well, I’m always courteous to my adversaries, besides, when was the last time someone apprehended a criminal on live television?”  

Day 10: Snap 

Funnel winced at the visceral sound of splintering bone, from his hiding place ontop the shadows of the ceiling, he closed his eyes as their ears became polluted with the informants wailing cries, his raw shrieks of pain sending Funnels senses into alarm. It guilted him to observe such mindless torture, even on those who deserve it, but May’s orders were strict, and unlike most occasions, they couldn’t cheekily skirt the lines for fun. If the Debt Collectors knew that they were being tailed, there would be no chance to find their headquarters. “Good God.” his quiet plead to higher forces stifled under the growing arguments between the animals he observed. “Randy, get your shit together or else I’m gonna break another bone, you understand!?” “The Moneys in the goddamn cabinet upstairs, please!” Adjusting their grip on the steel bar they used as a weapon, the collector let it sway below by his feet, “Better be, Don’t go anywhere.” Disappearing up the stairs to their right in a matter of moments.

“They’re collecting the money now Mayday, just a bit longer before we can find out where they’re stationed.” The Spider was left only to observe the remaining debt collector & their victim, whose continued sobs of sheer pain echoed across the old office complex.

Day 11: Demon

“Demons, huh? Weren’t these the guys wh-” “Had a hand in the Devil’s Breath tragedy back in 1987, Yes.” Jonathan's lips pursed in exhale, somewhat calming the latent fear within him as his mind was far too busy consuming the information provided. “But didn’t they supposedly putter out sometime back in the 2010s?” Dragging a daggy sleeve across the desk, Maydays hands held out another file, pinched & printed straight from SHIELD Records & Archives. “After Mr Negative disappeared, Yes.” “Okay, are you gonna say anything other than yes?” “Ye- I will just keep reading.” Letting out a huff, Kyle’s hazel eyes fell on a particularly recent entry listed within the reports, bringing the fine, freshly printed text up close to examine, its contents prodding at his interest like a child tugs a grown-ups coat for attention. “Surveillance personnel have concluded in their most recent report that inactive financial assets for the Demons have recently been drained to several off-shore accounts, attempts to retrieve location deemed unsuccessful”. Rolling his broad shoulders, the Spider used whatever excuse of deductional abilities they had at their disposal to make a guess, “Maybe they’re finally salvaging the wreckage? With all this asset moving to unknown locations before SHIELD could drain them, it could just be some former manager wiring all these up into his own pocket.” May Parker shrugged, typing away at her keyboard as their mind too weighed up options. “If I could guess, you’re going to need help on this, you said Patriot was good with computers, right?

[mightyhydrator]

Hands McMike,or why most of Hollow Knight lacks hands.

This might look like a silly topic, but it’s actually an interesting idea (that I think is a fact, so I won’t hold back). It’s easier to suspend disbelief and say they have hands, same way most cartoon characters have only 4 digits on each appendage, thus simplifying the work of animators, but Hollow Knight goes a bit deeper than that, despite most likely following the same principle. (interestingly, the hands that we do see in the game also only have 4 fingers)

The world of Hollow Knight is mostly handless, and here’s why.

Alright, so the biggest evidence is one devnote: "Few creatures have hands. Avoid if possible" (it's about whether it's ok or not to use the word in the game's text), with only one mention in dialogue - lemm's line. Since Lemm uses the word "hands" for someone who doesn't seem to have it, it's reasonable to assume that it's a style thing, isn’t it? (it is, but i will get to that in a minute). Wrong. In a society in which most people don't have digits, there would still have to be a name for the end of the limb with which people grab objects that everyone shares. For many, it's just a stub or something. (there might be a name for hands with digits, but “hand” isn’t it)

For the purpose of this post, I will hereafter only use "hands" to mean a protrusion at the end of an arm that has digits.

Now, we do see bugs with hands: Quirrel, Tiso, Jinn, the Hunter, Mask Maker, the Hollow Knight/Pure Vessel, Grimm/Nightmare King, No Eyes, Soul Warriors, the City’s sentries, the Colosseum’s Fools, the Collector (kind of counts), Hegemol (his armor has gloves with thumbs), Dryya, the Watcher Knights (who might just have 2 endings to their arms, rather than hands) and Elder Baldur (more like paws, but there are digits). It does seem pretty rare, doesn't it?

I bring these up to argue the "style" argument: if the only reason for bugs not to have hands is style, then how come most npcs and enemies (including bosses) don't have them? They have a single sprite sheet, they tend to be bigger than Ghost, so animating hands would be much easier, and the sprite sheets have many less sprites than one of Ghost's tends to have.A bunch of people said "well, the characters with hands tend to have long and slender limbs", ok, but Broken Vessel is good enough for hands (a vessel with maturity between THK and Ghost, no less), same with most NPCs, like Tuk, Lemm, Herrah, etc. And even then, they could just have chub-looking hands or something.

Then someone brought up the idea that "Few creatures have hands" means specifically the stylistic choice of not having hands, so it goes "Few creatures have drawn hands". The problem here is the usage of the word "creature" - the word includes wild animals, mushrooms, residents of deepnest, etc., all of whom do lack hands. The argument could have ground if the sentence said "bugs", as in "civilized bugs", but it didn't.

And finally, here is a way BOTH the "style" argument and my arguments can get married and adopt kids: the reason most bugs don't have hands is, get this, the influence of the art style on the canon of the game!What I find likely is that Team Cherry has decided that since a lot of bugs are too small to be animated to have hands, they simply chose to not include them as a necessary element, so that there's a Watsonian backing for their art style.

And in conclusion, I want to bring up an analogy: Ghost and THK do NOT have eyes. Their Collector's Edition prints show eyesocket ridges, while Hornet and Quirrel simply have black circles. How do THK and Ghost see? I think they simply do, as the other possibility being that their eyes are deeper in their heads, but then how do Shades or the Collector see?

So, yeah, thank you all for coming to my TedTalk on why most bugs of the world of Hollow Knight don't have hands.

[allspark]

SDCC 2019 rolls on, bringing us the first-ever convention exclusive BotBots! As previously reported, the SDCC 2019 exclusive BotBots “Con Crew” set was released at general retail in the Philippines, and we’ve got a quick but comprehensive look at the three-tribe set of new arrivals.

The set is a mix of convention-themed characters — better yet, convention ATTENDEE-themed characters, with personalities to match — composed of some redecos and some debuting new molds. It’s worth noting that the packaging doesn’t have an SDCC logo or “convention exclusive” notation anywhere, although that doesn’t make it any less special.

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It’s effectively one of the first BotBots box sets, alongside the series 3 Arcade Renegades’ 16-figure packaging, and the packaging has a nice look, from the social media-themed cover with selfies of the Con Crew, to the inner tray displaying the characters in a mix of robot and altmodes, to the bright and energetic original art depicting the characters at a ‘con (with a bit of a GI Joe shout-out in the background). Owing to its one-shot release format, there are no blind-packaged figures in this set.

  The inner tray is also accompanied by a backdrop with some raised pieces, which is sadly a bit too cramped to serve as a diorama in its current form (but there’s nothing really stopping you from opening it up and adding to it…). Interestingly, the instructions don’t have any bios for the characters — those are found on the by the interior cover, which also has “convention panel schedule” style profiles showing us more of their personalities.

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The 10-figure set breaks down into three tribes with their own sigils: the Line League, the Fantastic Fuelers, and the Meet ‘N’ Greets.

The Line League is a three-Bot team comprised of items you might encounter in a convention queue: a tent, a backpack, and a portable game console that helps you while the time away. These are also known as Vigitente (a new series 3 tent mold), Con-packtor (a series 2 Overpack redeco), and Captain Cartridge (a series 3 D-Pad Chad redeco).

  Vigitente is a nice preview of the upcoming Playroom Posse tent; she sports a somewhat Megs-y helmet and a mischievous, daring expression. Con-pack-tor carries the Overpack mold well with an eye-catching yellow and red strap detailing (the green crest is a nice accent too). Captain Cartridge is one of the three figures in the set to come with cosplay gear: he’s got a fabric cape that’s removable if you pop his head block off. You don’t really need to take the cape off to transform him, but it’ll get stuck under the ‘screen’ and will look odd. 

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The Fantastic Fuelers is the only four-Bot group, perhaps a nod to another fantastic foursome, comprised of convention snacks (fish taco, chips) and beverages (energy drink, coffee). This is where you’ll meet Sumthin’ Fishy (a redeco of series 2 Hawt Mess), Hal A. Peno (redeco of series 3 Treat Elite), Carb O. Nate (redeco of series 1 Nrjeez), and Coffeemus Prime (a redeco of series 3 Latte Spice Whirl).

  Sumthin’ Fishy brings the obvious fish-themed redeco for Hawt Mess’ taco altmode, with some nice teal and pink accents in robot mode. Hal A. Peno revisits the mold with a bright red and an unexpected set of blonde (cosplay?) bangs in robot mode. Carb O. Nate brings some life to his inherited mold with a great deco that really beats the somewhat plain look of Nrjeez. Finally, Coffeemus Prime has an unmasked face under his cardboard cosplay mask (which I apparently didn’t get back on correctly); the mask also needs to be removed for transformation. The rest of him is pure Optimus fanboy cosplay as well, from chest windows to silver grille. 

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Finally, the Meet ‘N’ Greets are items that feature at convention panels — a marker, a book, and a camera. These are Scribzilla (new marker mold), Inky Inkerson (book, a Professor Wellread redeco), and Botarazzi (camera, an S.A. Cheez redeco).

  Scribzilla has the pink fabric kaiju-cosplay hat, a nice piece that is held on by the ball joints for his wings/marker body (marker mode is only possible without it — take special care in pulling the wings off by the ball-joint). Inky puts a sutiably bored and disaffected face on the Professor Wellread mold, while Botarazzi adds a silver deco to the growing BotBots camera club.

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This convention exclusive set has unique, exclsuive-feel packaging, soft-goods bonus pieces, a great mold selection from across the first three series of the line, and fun chartacter choices. On the whole, the Con Crew is a very cool collection that cleverly captures con-going ‘capades and can cause cavorting among even casual or callous collectors.

Let us know what you think of the set, on the Allspark Facebook page, on the Allspark Forums, or on our Discord server!

Meet the BotBots Con Crew in this Allspark.com gallery! SDCC 2019 rolls on, bringing us the first-ever convention exclusive BotBots! As previously reported, the SDCC 2019 exclusive BotBots "Con Crew" set was released at general retail in the Philippines, and we've got a quick but comprehensive look at the three-tribe set of new arrivals.

[rayadraws]

The importance of positive reinforcement

This is a little “joint project” between me, @jenny-opm, @dechanique and also @bloodsbane!

This all started with me posting the following prompt at the OPM Discord server:

Concept: King obviously has a large collection of anime figurines and stuff we do not even need to discuss this. And let’s say there’s an equivalent of Nendoroids/Good Smile Company in the OPM universe who produces merch for different categories, so that probably includes heroes, too.

Genos hears about a new Caped Baldy figurine and starts looking around for it, maybe joining a forum to ask/find more info. There is an user in the forum who knows EVERYTHING about these figurines and offers all sorts of insight etc. And then after like, quite a bit of discussing things back and forth both of them go like

“Wait… Genos?”

”King? Is that you?“

…at least they’ll have something to talk about next time King comes over now.

We started brainstorming about this scenario and it uh, grew. Below is a near 2k “summation” of everything we came up with, kind of like a synopsis if you will? (If anyone wants to borrow this concept and turn it into something bigger/a proper fic or watever by all means do, just make sure to give credit where due - and give us links to the results, I’m sure everyone involved would love to see!)

Moral of the story, as summed up by Dech: Genos is the real winner and learned nothing.

King is definitely a moderator in said forum. If Genos ever misbehaves on there king probably gives Saitama a call like;

"Yo your roommate is trying to start an internet fight, get him to stop for me.”

Saitama tells Genos that ”King told me to tell you that if you don’t stop engaging with the trolls you’ll have your star point rewards taken away, whatever that means.”

Genos is visibly upset at this. He counters that King should come talk directly to him (knowing he’s intimidated by him) but the threat backfires when Saitama responds with ”’Kay, I’m telling him you don’t want your points or whatever" and there goes that.

“N-no, Sensei, no! Just… it’s just….”

“What?”

“They said mean things about you and how hard it is to get you to remain on your stand….”

“Is this all about that weird plastic action toy again?!”

It turns out Saitama is a bit weirded out by the idea of an collector’s figure of himself, maybe even by figures of real people in general.

This becomes even more evident when they’re walking past a display in a store one day (including at least three different designs of Demon Cyborg) and Sai just… gives them a Look

“Why are there three versions of you, though” Saitama asks.

“Well, I believe Amai Mask has at least 7 variants, Sensei, since he has been a hero for much longer than us…

”…Why would anyone need 7 of him?“

(the answer is that they make a new figure every time he gets a new haircut)

The fortunate side effect of Genos being away and busy explaining action figures to Saitama is that it gives King the opportunity to get the forum situation back under control - it’s a lot easier now that a main participant is away from the screen.

On top of that, to Genos’ dismay, by the time they return home, the forum thread has been locked. However, he has an idea and whips out his phone, texting King with simply “Why did you do that?”. When he receives the message, poor King just about throws his phone across the room.

Later, it is Saitama’s turn to receive a text message.

"Saitama, dude, you gotta stop him or we’ll have to ban him and I’m terrified of what he’ll do to me, he knows where I live!”

Poor King - all he wants is to keep the forum a safe and healthy environment for everyone….

—

One day King comes over to play video games with Saitama and at one point King’s phone beeps. He notices that there is a situation and thinks to himself that this has to be straightened out, a mod is needed here….

Of course, Genos remembers when King cheated him out of a glorious internet discussion victory and just starts staring at King, eyes narrowed, not even blinking.

Poor King doesn’t deserve this, all he wanted to do in his beloved forum was talk about anime waifus with his fellow otakus… It’s like a battle between Genos’ whirring core and the King engine thundering in the small apartment.

Saitama notices that something is up and tries to diffuse the situation, asking if Genos can go get the chips. Predictably, Genos does an immediate 180 and brightly asks whether Sensei wanted this one or this one..? He gets the bag of chips…

…And then goes RIGHT back to glaring at King. The relief was only temporary…

King desperately tries to come up with a solution to all of this. Maybe he can give Genos star points for every day he stays out of trouble..? But that’s not fair to other users… But this is a life or death situation, he needs to come up with SOMETHING..

Desperately, he begs Saitama to give Genos a good behaviour sticker book.

Saitama is uncertain.

“I dunno man…”

“Listen! I’ll buy you a book and deliver it here! Just… please… for me?!” King puts on his best puppy eyes.

“He listens to you!”

“I’ll subscribe to a monthly sticker service and send them all to you!”

King is desperate - but then again, he’s pretty sure it’s his life on the line.

—

A month later:

"Hey Genos! Look, this month’s theme is Gudetama!”

“!!!”

To King’s relief, the new system works and Saitama realizes he can also use the stickers for other situations… like not threatening strangers on the street or not losing parts during fights.

“You came back in one piece! Wow, awesome, here’s a sticker!”

A little positive reinforcement goes a long way!    

Other uses includes finding the BEST sale - Genos is so proud of that one that his sticker album just happens to lay open on the table when Mumen comes over for a visit one day.   

Mumen notices, of course.

“Oh, these are very nice! Are they a project for the neighbourhood children?”

“They’re… a project for one local kid…”

“All these stickers for one kid! This kid must be very good”

Genos looks so proud.

Saitama wants to say “he needs a lot of reinforcements” but he catches the look on Genos’ face and just can’t say it. Instead, all he says is “yeah” and Genos is so happy for the confirmation - and is on his best behaviour all day, bringing Mumen tea and crackers with a happy little smile - as well as going rather overboard.

“What temperature do you prefer your tea at, Mumen-san?”

Mumen is rather confused…

It turns out Happy Genos is almost as overbearing as Pissy Genos - just in a different way.

Thanks to being so good while Mumen visits, Genos earns himself two new stickers.

(This is all very unfair - King introduces the stickers yet it’s Mumen Genos is grateful towards. Well, life isn’t fair, King knows this. But it still hurts…)

—

On days when Genos is especially good he can pick which stickers he wants. He always picks the yellow ones.

When he fills a page in his book he can have a small reward. When he fills a whole book he can have a big reward!

It’s hard to think of good rewards, though.

”I dunno what to even suggest as a reward, d’ya have any ideas, Genos?”

”YES.”

Genos reaches into his pocket, puts on lip balm and closes his eyes, making the perfect kissy face.   

”What, a new chapstick?”

—

One day, Saitama unexpectedly runs out of stickers. Genos looks so sad about it that Saitama panics and instead gave his reward in the form of a really quick kiss on the cheek.   

And that’s the start of it - stickers will never be enough now.

Saitama tries to reason with himself - it IS cheaper than buying new stickers all the time, it’ll save money… right?   

A call to King.

“Yeah, you don’t need to send me any more stickers.”

From here on, all they need to do is draw hearts in the book to keep track.

—

King can’t believe how well behaved Genos is next time they meet.

When he finally comes over he finally realizes why he didn’t need to send any more stickers.

“Well… I guess… that works…” he mutters as he continues kicking Saitama’s ass at Street Fighter - not hearing a disgruntled “hmph” in the background every time he wins a match is a welcome change.

“More tea, King-san?”

Before he has even closed the door behind him as he leaves the apartment, he hears Genos calling to Saitama in the other room.

“I want to cash in my reward now!”

—

Give a mouse a cookie…

Over time, Genos becomes more and more insistent about his rewards.

“Sensei, there was variations among the stickers. It is only fair to also have variations among the kisses.”

He’s steaming out of his shoulders as he advances on Saitama and Saitama knows immediately that the end of his supposed heterosexuality is impending.

To his surprise, he is saved(?) by none other than Speed of Sound Sonic.

To Genos’ credit, he tries to stay calm around Panic (”Oy, worthless, poorly named sorry excuse for a ninja… do you want tea?” “What?!”). But unfortunately the sticker street is one-way - Sonic has no incentive to be nice.

The fight is inevitable.

”You cost me a kiss!”

”For fecks sake what’s wrong with you today tin can?!”

Afterwards, Saitama can tell that Genos is upset so he strikes a deal. He won’t lose any of his points, but he won’t gain any new ones either.

”You didn’t immediately attack him but you did call him a shitty excuse for a shitty shithead… so let’s call it even…”

—

”Hey Genos! If you get every sale item on this list you’ll have your choice of a smooch or two stickers!”

“!!!”

We know what he will choose. Having said that, he might try to barter - ”Maybe a quick smooch and one sticker?” - because stickers can be traded in for longer kisses later.

Getting more and more courageous, Genos starts demanding his rewards in public too. He has never been so excited to tag along to thrift stores to find “new” clothes before.

“Wow, what an awesome deal! You did so good Genos. This is definitely worth a big reward.” Genos moves closer, crowding Saitama, face dark and shoulders steaming.

“I would like that reward now, Sensei.”

Saitama sweats, takes a half step back. "R-right now??”

He steps closer, “Yes.I found Sensei the - shudders slightly - cheap used crocs, it is only fair.”

The first time Genos gets a public reward happens when they accidentally forgot the sticker book at home - after that, Genos “forgetting” them at home becomes a very common occurrence.

King has no idea what he has started. The day media explodes with the picture of Demon Cyborg and Caped Baldy kissing in public - Saitama texts King saying “I blame you” and King is so confused - but at least Genos is too busy to bother him or anyone else in the forum any more.

All in all, a happy ending for everyone.

[kittyboo8015]

So I’ve been working on this drabble for a couple of days and somehow it grew to 2045 words. This one’s for @survey-corps-rookie based on an AU she told me about involving Comic book nerd Levi meeting his favorite actor, Erwin Smith. I wanted to do this as a thank you for always helping me find merch I’m looking for and I really enjoy talking about Eruri together. I hope this turned out ok. Also thank you to everyone whom looked over this for me, I appreciate it so much<3 I’m gonna just post now because the wind is blowing pretty hard right now and I don’t want to lose power XD

Levi checks over the items in his backpack one last time before zippering it closed. He slings it over his shoulder and takes a quick look in the mirror. He adjusts his glasses and grabs his keys off the dresser. He tries to ignore the nervousness in his stomach as he heads to his car. The day of the Con had finally arrived after an agonizing 6 month wait. Levi had rushed to register  as soon he had seen the poster in his favorite comic store advertising this year’s  special guests. He would finally get the chance to meet his favorite actor, Erwin Smith. 

Levi had never been a fan of movie versions of his favorite comics. They always butchered the plot and the casting was always terrible . One boring Saturday night about a year ago  had changed his mind. Hange and Moblit had dragged him to some shitty remake and Levi had only tagged along because Hange always got free tickets from their job at the theater and he had nothing better to do.

At least he could kill a couple of hours by pointing out every single plot hole and have a good laugh at the shitty acting that was sure to accompany it. His mind had been changed that night. For the first time ever, Levi had watched the entire movie. The film was still loaded with flaws but he was too mesmerized by Erwin’s performance to notice. As soon as he had arrived home, he went straight to his computer to find out everything he could about Erwin Smith. 

 .

Levi pulls up in front of the house shared by Hange and Moblit and honks the horn impatiently. After a few moments the front door is thrown open and a slightly disheveled Hange exits being trailed by Moblit. Levi’s irritation leaves his face temporarily at the sight of them. He unlocks the doors and tries to bite back a laugh when Hange slides into the back seat trying not to lose her wig while Moblit gets in next to Levi. .

“Took you long enough, we have to be at the hotel by two pm for pre-judging for the cosplay contest!” Hange whines, wig still slightly off center. “Do people even watch “Sailor Moon” anymore?” Levi questions as he pulls away from the curb. She straightens her tiara with a huff. “Pretty bold coming from a grown ass man who still plays with toys!” She snaps. “They’re action figures and I collect them, there’s a difference!” Levi shouts back. “At least I don’t guilt people into wearing lame costumes!” Moblit turns nervously towards the window. “ Tuxedo Mask isn’t lame, right Moblit?” Hange asks. Moblit  just nods and continues to stare out at the road.

Two long hours later, Levi pulls into the hotel parking lot. He huffs in annoyance as Moblit helps extract Hange from the back seat after her boot somehow got caught. They finally make their way to the hotel entrance from the parking lot. After obtaining their passes they decide to split up and meet again later in time for the signing. 

Nervous excitement is still buzzing through Levi’s veins just thinking about how close he is to meeting Erwin. He checks his phone and sighs upon noticing he has some time to kill. He heads into the dealers room to see if he can score some more merch for his collection back at home. 

Levi’s collection was small, only being able to buy figures here and there when he had some money to spare but it was his pride and joy. He kept them on a shelf in his room he had built himself and cleaned them once a week to keep them from getting dusty. 

He makes his way around the rooms, stopping when something catches his eye. He ends up buying a couple of keychains to add to his backpack and makes his way back to the lobby. He takes a seat on one of the empty couches and just people watches for a while. 

He lets out a small laugh when he receives a text from Hange bragging that she and Moblit had managed to win 3rd place in the Cosplay contest. He jumps slightly when the alarm he set goes off indicating that it was time to get in line for the guest signings.

After meeting back up with Hange and Moblit, they slowly make their way through the queue. Levi tries to get a glimpse of Erwin and then curses himself for being too damn short to see around the large crowd. “What’s the matter shorty, do you need a boost?” She says with a grin. “Ow, I was just kidding!” She cries when  Levi casually stomps on her foot in response. 

After an eternity of standing in line being subjected to Hange’s litany of complaints about starvation and tingling in her foot, they finally approach the guest table and Levi can feel his heart hammering in his chest. Now that he has an unobstructed view, he can clearly see Erwin and he is a hundred times more handsome in person. As Levi approaches him, Erwin looks up at him and smiles and Levi swears he feels his heart stop. 

Levi gasps as he is thumped on the back by Hange. “Aren’t you going to answer, Erwin asked you  what your name is?” She hisses quietly from behind him. Levi feels his cheeks heat up in embarrassment as he looks up at Erwin who is still smiling and waiting patiently. “Um, I-I’m Levi.” He manages to stammer. Erwin extends his hand to him. “Nice to meet you, Levi.” He says, grasping Levi’s hand firmly shaking it causing Levi’s blush to reach up to his ears.

Levi places a poster and a couple DVD cases on the table for Erwin to sign. “Oh, so you’ve seen some of my movies?” Erwin asks as he starts signing. “He’s seen all of them at least a hundred times and he’s the president of your fan club in our city!” Hange  chimes in from behind and Levi just wants to sink into the floor. 

“I’m sorry, someone obviously forgot to take their meds this morning.” Levi apologized, glaring daggers up at Hange. Erwin turns to Levi and smiles warmly. “No need to apologize, I am honored to meet such a supportive fan, thank you Levi.”  He gazes sincerely up at him with his beautiful blue eyes and Levi almost melts. Levi looks down at his hands.

“Um, it’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Smith.” He mumbles. Erwin chuckles. “No need for formalities , just call me Erwin.” He finishes signing and slides the items back across the table. Levi quickly but carefully returns the items to his bag. “Thank you, Erwin.” He replies shyly and gets ready to leave.

“Wait, Levi, I would like your email address if you don’t mind, I like to keep in touch with my fan clubs, I wouldn’t be here without them after all.” He says handing Levi a pen. Levi takes it nervously and scrawls down his name and email. “Thank you, Levi, I appreciate it.”  Levi’s cheeks heat up again. “No, problem.” He says with a small smile. “I’ll be in touch.” Erwin takes the paper back with a smile and waves at Levi whom waves back limply and walks away with Hange and Moblit in tow.                    ________

It was about a week later that Levi first heard back from Erwin. He honestly didn’t think he would ever hear from him in the first place. Erwin was a popular actor and a very busy man. Levi was sure that Erwin was just being polite after Hange had embarrassed him. Levi wasn’t mad at her though he knew Hange long enough to know that she tends to get overexcited sometimes. 

Late one evening, he checked his email like he always did before going to bed and to his surprise there was an email from Erwin. Levi felt a flutter in his stomach as he clicked it open. Levi had expected that it was just a formal mass email that was sent out as a formality but the only recipient of the mail was himself. Erwin had thanked him again for the support and coming out to see him. He had ended with a few questions for Levi about his hobbies and what fandoms he was into. Levi carefully typed out a short response and hit send.

After his initial response to Erwin, Levi started receiving messages from him once or twice a week sometimes less when Erwin was busy filming overseas. They started small, exchanging small talk about their lives and backgrounds. Levi found out that they were only five years apart in age when Erwin had mentioned he had just celebrated his thirtieth birthday a few weeks prior. Over time they had learned that they had quite a bit in common. They both were  collectors of comics and both got their start from their parents.

 Levi told Erwin how his mother had bought him him his first comic and how that day was was one of his favorite memories of her. Sadly she had gotten sick and passed away when Levi was still very young and that comic had gotten lost between moves to foster homes. Levi always keeps an eye out at cons hoping to find a copy of it again someday. 

Erwin had gotten his start by collecting with his father. He would go to the comic shop every other week with him and add to his collection. Levi chuckled when Erwin told him that his dad still sends him a comic occasionally in the mail. As time moved on the emails moved to Skype, and recently the occasional text. Several months before the con came into town the following year, Levi had received a phone call from Erwin saying he was invited to attend again and that he would like Levi to come as his guest. 

                         __________

Levi draws in a deep breath as he knocks on the door to the room where Erwin was waiting. As soon as he enters Erwin walks towards him with a smile. Levi blushes and pushes his glasses back up as they slide down again. Erwin tries to turn away quickly hoping Levi didn’t catch him blushing. “It’s good to see you again,Levi.” Erwin says reaching out to shake hands. Levi can’t help but notice that Erwin’s hand feels just as clammy as his. “Oh, I almost forgot, I have something for you!” Erwin replies as he grabs a package off of a table and hands it to Levi.

Levi tears open the paper carefully and tears almost spring to his eyes. In his hands was a copy of the comic he had lost long ago. “How did you find this?” He asks softly. “I called in a few favors.” Erwin replies and invites him to join him on the couch. “Thanks but you didn’t have to do this, and I didn’t bring you anything.”  Erwin smiles. “You coming here was enough and besides I owe you an apology.” Levi raises an eyebrow at him. “Apology? For what?” He asks, confused. “I wasn’t exactly honest with you, when I asked for your email address because of the fan club, I have people that take care of that for me because I’m so busy.” Erwin averts his eyes momentarily.

“I just wanted an excuse to talk to you again.” Levi is silent for a minute. “So you made up some bullshit excuse to talk to me, why?” He asks, cheeks still slightly pink. “I thought you were cute.” Erwin admits nervously. Levi feels his heart race slightly. He chuckles. “Apology accepted, and Erwin?” He asks moving closer. “Yes?” Levi moves forward and kisses him on the cheek. “Maybe, I think you’re cute too.”

[strainofthestress]

Fanfic: Reunions, Citadel Pt. 3

Hey guys! So, this one I felt like I actually found somewhat of a groove on! I'm still trying to treat the Liara/Traynor pairing I have with appropriate delicacy, I really like it, and really want you guys too! So, I figured it was finally time they moved things along a bit. Also, I totally wanted to write these characters going to a WW2 style club. In my mind, there are a lot of similarities between WW2 and the Reaper wars.

As always, I love reblogs! Reblogs, messages, and likes really help me to know what you guys want, as well as keep the enthusiasm up for writing. I’ll admit, with my daily schedule being a lot more busy recently, finding the motivation and time for writing has been difficult. So, while I don’t mean to shamelessly plug, I’m shamelessly plugging: your feedback helps me keep writing. 

Alright, I’m done. Enjoy!!!

Shepard’s Apartment, 1930

“Shepard! How was your workout?”

Tali stood up from the weapons bench in the oversized bedroom in the apartment, pieces of a shotgun lying disassembled on the table before her. Shepard was standing in the doorway, sweat dripping off the tip of his nose, his shirtless torso glistening under the lights of the room - Tali’s eyes lingered for longer than normal. The downstairs bedroom had been turned into Shepard’s personal gym, years of military and N7 training dictating that, no matter how relaxed he was, he could never afford to give his body a chance to rebelliously atrophe. Not that Tali was complaining, certainly not as she watched the way his torso moved as he walked into the room, still out of breath.

“Good, good. Think I’m getting a little weaker, but that’s what shore leave is for, isn’t it?”

A slightly nervous laugh came from behind the mask and glowing disk of Tali’s helmet. Shepard walked into the room, throwing his workout towel onto the bed before stripping down, unaware of the avid observer he had directly behind him watching his every move. He turned the shower on, stepping into it as he talked to Tali, running the shampoo through his hair and relishing in the consistently hot water – such a nice relief from the Spartan conditions of even the newest military starships.

“So… what do you want to do for the rest of the evening?”

“I don’t know. I’m as free as the dust on the solar wind.”

“You’re what?”

“Have I still not shown you that vid?”

“What vid?”

“Remind me, next time I say that, to show it to you. It’s essentially the movie of my adolescence.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. The question still stands, what to do tonight.”

“Hmmm, let me see.”

Tali pulled up her omnitool, swiping through popular locations and activities nearby as Shepard finished with the Shower. While Shepard toweled off and stepped into the closet, Tali found a particularly interesting entry.

“It says here there’s a particularly popular bar location nearby! Looks like it’s within walking distance, on the other side of silverspun.”

“Oh? And what makes this so popular?”

“Well…” more omnitool scrolling “it looks like its favored by a lot of soldiers back for shore leave, says it has a ‘Human 20th Century’ theme to it, whatever that means. Food is rated well… they serve dextro and levo… and looks like drinks are half off tonight.”

Shepard had walked out of the closet and perched himself on the bed, looking over Tali’s shoulder at the entry, his eyes quickly scanning back and forth over the text and pictures.

“Well, half off drinks and a bunch of soldiers? What could possibly go wrong?”

Tali rolled her eyes, standing up to lean herself on the doorway while watching Shepard, the Spectre now sorting through his clothes to pull out his liberty uniform.

“I have absolutely no idea. Not like you would either.”

“Excuse me, Ms. Vas Normandy, I seem to remember there was a time on Illium when we were fighting the Collectors that you found yourself rather intoxicated as well.”

“That was an entirely scientific endeavor.”

“Oh really.”

“One hundred percent. I needed to see how my new suit breathalyzers were working. And the emergency inductor port.”

“That straw-looking thing?”

“It’s an emergency inductor port, John. We’ve been over this.”

“I still say it’s a Straw.”

“Well, when you design complex modifications to some of the most advanced envirosuit technology in the galaxy, you can call it whatever you want to.”

“Then it will be called a straw.”

Tali rolled her eyes again, deeper this time, and Shepard laughed at her exasperated sigh as she stood up and walked back over to the weapons bench, leaving John to fiddle with the belt of his liberty uniform.

Silversun Hotel, Room 3215, 2000 Hours

“Liara? Liaaarraaa?”

Traynor’s sing-song call sounded through the room as she knocked on the door, the layout now quite familiar as she let herself in. The room was, as always, in perfect order, Liara’s scant list of belongings neatly tucked away in every cabinet, closet, and shelf in the place. While Traynor herself appreciated a certain degree of cleanliness, she could not help but admire the disciplined spotlessness of the Asari’s living spaces at all times – I guess you grow into that after a hundred.

Liara walked out from the bedroom, this time in pink sweatpants, a white silk shirt and, most notably, lime-green fuzzy slippers, smiling radiantly as she entered the room. Though seeing Liara in this state was becoming less and less uncommon for Samantha, it still took her by surprise to see the business-like, aloof, secretive Asari from the Normandy transformed into such a friendly, kind face. While on the one hand it made her wonder what her friend was like before the war, before shepard; it also brought to mind an image of Liara standing in the same outfit instructing galactic politicians how to maneuver their governments to avoid an intergalactic war. A snicker rose and was quickly suppressed.

“Samantha! How nice to see you!”

“You too, Liara. I like the slippers.”

“Thank-you. A gift from Tali, though I admit I do question her sense of color sometimes. They’re quite comfy, though. So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well, I was wondering if you’d like to… you know… go somewhere?”

The effort it took to get the words out of her mouth clearly showed on Sam as her eyebrows furrowed in a mixture of concentration and confusion. Silence hung between the Asari and the Human for a heartbeat or two, but while it was only the time Liara needed to take a breath to make a response, Sam nonetheless heard the silence of centuries and barely gave Liara time to think about what had been asked before she continued.

“You see, there’s this cool club I found which supposedly has an Earth, 20th century theme to it. And, I don’t know if you know this, but I actually got a history minor in university, which means I know a decent amount about that time period. So, I’d really like to go, but nobody likes going to the club or even a restaurant by themselves, so I was wondering if you’d like to come with me?”

Liara smiled as Traynor continued as fast as her mouth could move, barely stopping herself from panting for being out of breath at the end of her plea. The asari’s smile broadened as Sam looked up, her eyes full of something roughly akin to a sad child asking for a treat.

“Of course, Sam, I’d love to come with you. Besides, I think I’ve figured out what you’re doing.”

Like a trapdoor Traynor’s heart plummeted at the words, her mind searching for what her heart already knew about just what exactly she was doing. With sweaty and shaking palms she wracked her brain for anything which Liara could find out, her conscious thought skipping over all the blue-tinted dreams and the times she woke up having accidentally fallen asleep on Liara.

“And… and what might that be?”

“You’ve done such a good job of trying to hide it, but I think I finally figured it out.”

Heartbeats hung in the air like helium balloons.

“You want me to be your… how do humans say, wingman?”

Sam’s brain missed a beat as her brain processed the unexpected word. While she didn’t know what word it was exactly that she was expecting, she knew for a fact that ‘wingman’ was not it. Her mouth opened and shut as she tried to piece together a response, a deep sense of regret filling her, despite her utter ignorance as to its cause. Laughing slightly at her friend’s apparent confusion Liara continued.

“I know humans have a custom of taking a friend with them to a bar to find a… companion, for the night. If I am made to understand correctly, this is usually somebody that they’re quite close to, their best friend. And yes, Sam, I would love to be your wingman.”

As Liara continued Traynor got a hold of her senses, reigning in her flapping mouth and pulling her brain back to the domain of comprehensible, conscious thought. As she spoke, the anticipation which had turned to disappointment transformed again into frustration and she found herself trying not to let her voice slip to aggression/

“You know, Liara, I wasn’t going to ask that. Truth be told, I’m not really looking to pick just anybody up tonight, but thank-you for the offer. Would you still be open to come as a friend?”

It was now Liara’s turn to furrow her brows and squint at Traynor as though examining a specimen. It was clear from the movement of her eyes that the destruction of her assumed solution to Traynor’s recent behavior was puzzling to her to put it mildly. While still struggling to reconcile all the observed instances she could remember – the seats too small, the conversations too long, the pleasant nights continuing clear to morning and the times waking up having accidentally fallen asleep with her friend – she still managed a response.

“I would be… glad to do so. Give me a minute to go get dressed then we can leave immediately.”

Excerpt from “Alliance Uniforms in the Reaper Wars”, Page 273

Due to the capture of Earth during the initial Reaper attack, it became necessary for the Alliance Military to relocate their recruit training facilities from Earth, for obvious reasons. Their location of choice ended up being a set of empty lots on the tip of the Citadel arms, in Zakera ward. While they had already located “Gunner’s Mate A-School” on the ward, this was a facility designed to handle 3,000 personnel a year, rather than the 3,000,000 recruits gained during the war. As such, the “Alliance Recruit Training Command, Citadel” was formed.

With the large influx of Alliance service members, often with little more than the clothes on their back and a will to fight, the alliance felt it necessary to develop a “Liberty Uniform” – a uniform neither as formal as the Alliance Class Alpha Dress Uniform nor as militarized and Rugged as the standard Star Ship Service Uniform. The Result, was the Alliance Class Bravo Dress Uniform, colloquially known as the “Liberty Jacket”.

This uniform utilized the same trousers and shoes as the Alpha’s, however the jacket was changed to be both more comfortable and less formal. It was a waist-length coat, being fastened around the waist by a large belt similar to the Service Uniform’s. The side panels were made of black, elastic material for wearer comfort, and the front and back panel were made of standard Alliance Twill blue fabric. It was closed via 3 internal closure magnets, and sported the symbol of either the Alliance Navy or Alliance Marine Corps on the right breast. While the front panel was to be worn closed by regulation, service members commonly opened it in casual settings, such as social affairs and the barracks, to cool off. It had a stand-up collar, and was a long sleeve uniform, with no sleeve rolling authorized.

Rather than the standard Gold trim around the seams and for the logo, the alliance opted instead to utilize a cheaper slate grey fabric, giving the uniform a much more subdued appearance, deemed more fit for public socializing. Officers wore their rank on special grey shoulder boards, and enlisted service members sewed their rank onto the upper part of their sleeve, as on their Alphas. The uniform was worn with a black Beret, displaying the Systems Alliance Logo, but this was an often-omitted item, with service members claiming that “if [they] only had to wear it outside, then they should never wear it on the citadel, since the entire space station is inside.”

There were few variations on the basic uniform, but one notable modification was the addition of a red and white stripe down the white sleeve by the N7 corps, a change which – while never officially sanctioned nor allowed – was allowed to continue nonetheless.

This uniform was seen most commonly around ARTCC, with recruits often having no other clothes to wear besides their other uniforms. Closer to the presidium and Alliance Docks, the Service and Dress uniform was more common – service members often saving space by neglecting to pack the uniform. Furthermore, many service members took liberty where they could, often taking advantage of a 4-5 hour port call, and thus never taking the time to change into the appropriate liberty uniform.

Zakera Ward, Coming Home (nightclub), 2100 Hours

The club was stuffed in one of the more crowded streets this part of the Citadel, sandwiched between two larger complexes, its doorway no wider than 10 feet and with no windows leading in. The brilliant blue holo sign which stuck into the street with the image of a classic pin-up girl underneath was almost lost amidst all the sound and light of a modern causeway. None of this reduced the popularity of the joint, however, the line of service members and their respective dates waiting to get in stretching so far down the lane that it was the other, larger establishments that tended to get lost behind the human wall of impatience, youthful enthusiasm, and frenetic compulsion to enjoy what could be the last moments on the Citadel.

Inside, a small hallway about 15 feet inside, windows of soldiers’ clubs from WW1 clear to the modern era lining the wall. The hallway opened up to reveal a large rectangular room, at least 50 feet deep and 40 wide with the hallway exiting in the bottom right corner. Immediately to the right of the exit was a classic bar, the counters made of polished glass over brushed aluminum, glasses hanging from modern post racks as the Turian, Human, and Asari bar tenders jumped left and right to accompany all the orders coming through the tenants. Young men and women scrambled over each-other, shoving and cajoling to present their credit-chits to the bar tenders, those sitting on the round post-stools getting pushed and manhandled by the throng, not maliciously but certainly without much consideration for their well-being.

The neons from the bar shone onto the polished black floor as the room transitioned to the table-seating area, approximately 20 round tables of varying sizes positioned around the small space. Bathed in a warm white light from lighted globes hung above, with red accent lights shining from the corners, patrons of every race and age could be seen laughing, eating, enjoying what looked like some wonderfully prepared food. Tables ranged from grizzled veterans, sitting more quietly than the rest swilling around old memories in their whisky glasses, to young recruits, boisterously bragging about their basic training exploits and the honors and glories they would seize when the reapers finally got ahold of them. The din was nearly deafening, every person screaming to be heard over the next, but the broad smiles and boisterous laughs gave the tumultuous sound a wholesome air of, if not happiness, at the very least excitement and friendship.

Beyond the tables was the dance floor, wide and covered in what looked like actual wood, a rarity on the Citadel. The band-stand was right next to the dancefloor, and on it an odd fusion of earth 20th century instruments and citadel races serenated the space with swing music. There were Turians on the upright base and guitar; Asari on the piano, a clarinet, a saxophone, and two trombones; Humans on trumpet and the remaining winds; and a very energetic Hanar skillfully playing the drums. They wailed on big band classics, their interpretations far from straight reproductions, but the energy and atmosphere of the century long past being brought nonetheless to this space station club. Patrons stood in groups of two to ten around the tables, conversing and

Throngs of people danced and undulated on the dance floor, some swinging as they had seen in videos, others skilled in the dance, and others just moving as the music seemed to compel them to. It was a great mixing pot, even more so than the tables, as dancers trading partners beamed at complete strangers as they all sought to escape the war which raged outside. Alliance soldiers danced with Asari commandos, Turians two-stepped with Batarians.

Lining the walls of the club was additional seating, small booths with dividers between them where the more reserved guests could find their seats. The constituency here was slightly older than the rest of the club, though largely no different than the rest of the club: soldiers and survivors looking for solace amidst the sundering of the galaxy. But instead of yelling at each other across the table they leaned towards each other, conversations in confidence staying so even with the volume. They watched the dancefloor with interest and bemused smiles, memories of their own dancing supplanting the people in front of them, memories moving and swaying with the melodies as they once had themselves.

The effect was not lost on Shepard and Tali as they walked in, Shepard sporting the subdued blues and greys of the Liberty uniform that many of the other soldiers in the joint were wearing, the red and white stripe on his arm getting a few raised eyebrows and hasty salutes as he and Tali walked towards the bar. They managed to find two tables, the combination of a Quarian (of whom she was one of five among the roughly 150 people inside) and an N7 quickly garnering enough respect and curiosity to win them a couple of stools. Drinks soon in hand, Tali and John turned and watched the spectacle before them from the bar.

“Well, Tali, this place certainly doesn’t lack for interest.”

“You’re telling me you don’t like it?”

John laughed. “Not at all, I think it’s great. I just never thought I’d hear swing music in a Citadel club, that’s all.”

“Is that what this is? I’ve never heard it before, but I think I like it.”

“Yeah. Some people just call it classical, but really it’s swing. Big Band, if you wanted to get picky. My dad used to play it on the freighter. He had learned the clarinet for long space journeys, said it kept some of the deep-space restlessness away. Ultimately, there wasn’t much music to play from the modern era, so he bought a big book of Benny Goodman songs and just let them wail.”

“I never knew that, John. Is that why you picked up the piano?”

“Not quite, but it’s probably why I was open to it.”

The piano player in the background jumped into a particularly aggressive lick as Tali spoke, both she and John looking up to watch as they heard the army of notes march up and back down the keyboard in melodious order.

“So, can you play that?”

“That? Sadly, no. I might have had time on deployments, but not that much time.”

“I’ll bet you could if you tried.”

The two watched as the band played, the musicians making eye contact with one another as the song pushed forwards with high-tempo energy. Tali spoke first.

“This is nice to see. Everybody relaxing for a bit.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s something that Quarians aren’t too good at. We’re always worried about something – which ship is going to fall apart next, where to get our next load of supplies, where to go on pilgrimage, even who married who on the ship, that we forget to just… relax, sometimes. It’s nice to see everybody taking some time before heading back out there.”

John smiled, finishing his drink in one last swig, before placing it down on the bar, standing up and grasping Tali’s arm. She looked at him, her eyes growing slightly with surprise as he beamed at her. It was a sight which she was not as used to as she’d like – her N7 outfitted in his dashing blue and black uniform, smiling down at her in an expression of absolute and utter enjoyment. Someday, after the war, this will be the norm, not the surprise. John walked Tali out, through the tables, a few service members recognizing the two as they walked, standing up, reaching out to give the legendary commander a reverent slap on the back, until they were both on the entrance to the dance floor. He put an arm around her waist, another gripping her hand and holding it mid-way up their bodies.

“Well, then let’s make sure this Quarian remembers.”

With that they started moving to the music, Shepard’s steps and movements at first foreign to Tali but quickly something she could respond to, at least somewhat gracefully. They moved into the crowd, getting lost in the sea of blue and black jackets, smiles seeking to forget the war for a night of loud music and good company, joining the masses dancing as the world fell apart.

Zakera Ward, Coming Home (nightclub), 2130 Hours

“Well that wait was long enough.”

“Indeed. But by the sounds of it, well worth it.”

Sam and Liara walked into the club, Sam fiddling nervously with her uniform as Liara walked elegantly in her dress, the outside a deep iridescent purple, a center panel of a textured red-pink fabric running from the top of the high collar clear to the hem. She had kept her usual gloves, the tops reaching to the middle of her upper arm, but the dress was shorter than most of her formal wear, stopping mid-calf rather than full-length. While the change gave her a less formal appearance, it served practical purposes as well – The Shadow Broker being all too aware of the number of assassinations and fights which happen in nightclubs across the Citadel. A far ways from the naïve archeologist of years ago, or even the fledgling information broker on Illium, Liara now found herself fighting the compulsion to look over her shoulder, her eyes shrewdly squinting in each new room she entered as she identified its exits, entrances, and security systems. A subcompact pistol was strapped to her thigh.

For the large part, though, her newly developed near-paranoia rarely prevented her from enjoying herself, and this was no exception. Her face lit up at the loud din of laughter and joy, her foot tapping imperceptibly at the alien music which had such a strong rhythm and energy of life about it. Sam trailed behind her as the Asari slipped through the crowd as silk through fingers, elegantly swapping her credit chit for a small martini glass of a rainbow colored drink, a sip of which only broadened her smile. Sam was slightly lost among the crowd, the crowd of soldiers, sailors, and marines around the bar absorbing her in a sea of black, gold, and grey. Eventually, though, the Specialist pushed her way past and stood with Liara on the outside wall, watching the scene as they found one of the few cocktail tables distributed around the seating area and set their drinks down, leaning in to talk to each other.

“You said this is Earth Classical Music, Sam?”

“Yes. Well, no. Well… kind of. Technically classical is a few hundred years before this. But a lot of people don’t differentiate, so by most people’s definition, this is classical, yes.”

“I admit, I quite like the sound of it. It has a nice energy to it.”

Sam watched Liara as she listened, her cerulean eyes closed as her head bobbed softly to the clarinet solo which was flowing across the audience like a particularly energetic stream. Her elegant shoulders moved in the dress, shifting her entire form as small movements built into a miniscule dance, more an undulation than a full dance, but energetic and appreciative of the sounds nonetheless. Sam felt her stomach turn over as she watched, the low nerves which she had been feeling from the moment she knocked on Liara’s door returning in full force, filling her stomach with butterflies and gymnasts.

Why on earth am I nervous? This is a nightclub, relax! Just, let loose.

True. So do it.

Do what?

Relax.

I can’t.

Why not?

Because… well, I don’t know. But I can’t.

Perhaps this is an answer to the first question? Why you’re nervous.

Shut up.

Liara opened her eyes, turning to look at Sam, who hastily took a sip of her drink before smiling broadly at the Asari, though the creases at her eyes spoke to the force it took to smile. A quizzical look came over T’soni’s face before she smiled at Sam, an earnest look of enjoyment and joy in her eyes that rarely graced them aboard the Normandy.

“Come on Sam, you look tense. I do believe that’s my job.”

“What, being tense? I’m not tense. I’m fine. Very relaxed.”

One of Liara’s eyebrows raised as the corner of her mouth curled up in unabashed amusement.

“Specialist Traynor, you are worse at lying than even The Commander. It doesn’t even take an information broker to know when you’re not telling the truth.”

Sam looked intently into Liara’s eyes, the raised eyebrows and challenging expression eating away at her resistance until she closed hers, laughing softly through her nose as she conceded with a hung head. Her lips curled up in a small smile as she looked up, Liara’s expression becoming even kinder and friendlier than before. Sam’s stomach did a few more somersaults for good measure.

“I know, Liara. I just… don’t know what has me so tense.”

“That is puzzling. Couldn’t be the entire galaxy burning under the threat of total extinction?”

Liara laughed as she spoke and Sam followed suit, but it soon became apparent that Traynor’s laugh was hollow, hiding deep thought and desperate introspection as she searched herself to figure out just why exactly she was tense.

Before her search could come to fruition, Liara walked forwards, grabbing her hand, sending electricity through her entire body. Startled, Sam looked up at Liara while her stomach went crazy and she found a slight haze invading her brain and obscuring her thoughts.

“Finish your drink, Sam. It’s impossible to stay tense when dancing.”

Smiling, almost uncontrollably, Traynor grabbed her glass and finished it all in one go, swept away by the Asari as soon as her glass was safely on the table. A change had thoroughly come over Liara, the normally reserved if not quiet Asari now energetic, excited, full of energy and enthusiasm. Quick steps took Liara and Samantha to the dance floor, where Liara stood on the side, eyes squinting as she watched the other dancers for 20 seconds before grabbing Traynor, putting both arms around her and perfectly mirroring the dance of the couple besides them.

“Wow, Liara, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody learn to dance so quickly.”

“It’s pattern recognition, a staple in both archeology and information brokering. Dancing is just a series of steps repeated with few variations. Identify the base steps, start with those, then add flourishes…”

To punctuate her sentence Liara grabbed Traynor, dipping the human deeply and holding her there before quickly bringing her back to her feet. A tingling sensation came over Traynor as she saw a slight mass effect field materialize around her, Liara’s motions effortless as Traynor dropped in mass. Samantha laughed as she was whirled back up, grabbing onto Liara again as the two continued dancing. Sam’s steps were clumsy, untrained, and while Liara’s were as well they were becoming competent much faster than Sam’s. On more than a few occasions Sam found herself tripping on her own feet or Liara’s, the Asari’s arms grasping her tighter to catch her fall. While she didn’t admit it to herself consciously, the feeling of Liara catching her was definitely a comforting one for her.

“I have to say, Liara, you seem much more… energetic, tonight.”

A quizzical look pulled an eyebrow up as Liara guided the two through a change-step to the newer, more energetic song behind them.

“How so?”

“Well, normally you’re… relaxed? No, that’s not right. Quiet? No… Composed. I guess that’s the best way I would describe it. And tonight you’re… well, I don’t want to say you’re not composed, you always are, you just are acting so…”

“Young?”

“That’s… not the word I would use to describe it, but…”

“It’s alright Sam, I know what you mean. I used to go to dance clubs a lot when I was younger, still in college. I stopped once I began working in the archaeology field, and there was never really time as an information broker. To be in one again, all the energy, all the joy, the music… it makes me feel at least 35 years younger, and I’m not even that old!”

A tinkling laugh from Liara lit up Traynor’s mind as she laughed too, the two continuing to dance as their feet got more and more experienced, Traynor’s trips and mistakes becoming less and less frequent. As a break in songs came Sam reached up, un-doing the top fastener of your jacket, the top corner of the closure panel folding down to reveal the lighter inner-lining, as much to make her seem more relaxed as to cool off.

“Is it ever weird for you?”

“Is what odd?”

“Being with humans who are so short lived when Asari live so long?”

Liara’s face darkened momentarily before an expression of thoughtfulness overtook the cloud. Her eyes squinted as she worked to put her response into the correct words, and after a few moments she responded.

“Not really, no. While, yes, Asari live longer than almost any species, we experience time in the same way as everybody else. Thus, while we may have more life, we live the same moments as you do, see the same things. An Asari at full maturity is much the same as a Human or Turian at full maturity, so while I may have more years behind me than you or Joker or Garrus, I am no more or less wisened. Though perhaps Joker was a bad example to use.”

Samantha smiled, the answer relieving some of the tension which she had felt at the beginning of the night as the two women gripped each other, swaying with the music as the hours of the night melted away.

Zakera Ward, Coming Home (nightclub), 2330 Hours

“Liara?”

“Shepard?”

“Traynor?”

“Tali?”

The four looked at each-other, dumbstruck as they stood in front of the bar, four drinks being placed in shocked hands. The shock wore off quickly and the four walked over to the seating area, grabbing a seat as they sipped their drinks. Shepard spoke first.

“What brings you two here?”

Traynor looked at Liara, who was beaming, though her cheeks were more blue than usual as a combination of the alcohol and the exertion of dancing. It truly was as though a small transformation had come over the young Asari, and Traynor couldn’t help but smile whenever she saw it.

“Oh, you know Shepard, just wanted a night on the town. You two?”

Tali responded. “Same. Found this place on my omnitool, thought it would be fun to try.”

“Us as well!”

Quickly the conversation continued, Shepard talking to Traynor and Liara to Tali. Samantha and Traynor laughed at the club, finding out they both knew more about swing music than the average patron as they threw names and songs around, both lighting up with each new song the band played in a string of classics. While the two talked commonly, they knew each other more on a professional level than a deeper friend level, though many of those barriers were broken down through their conversation by common interest and social lubrication. They laughed at the new recruits that flooded the establishment, their high-and-tight haircuts and enthusiastic youthfulness, told stories of their own times gone by. Tali and Liara meanwhile caught up on what had happened since they had last seen each other, the three days since the battle with the clone keeping both apart by busy schedules and occasionally differing interests. They caught up quickly, leaning close to each other and laughing earnestly and pleasantly.

After some time, and with no intentional signal, they all simultaneously decided to switch partners, the seating arrangement changing quickly as Shepard moved to talk to Liara and Tali to Traynor. Tali and Traynor had interacted closely on quite a few projects, and were fond of each other, but their friendship was not nearly as deep as that between Tali and Liara. Nonetheless, they found there was plenty conversation in the easy-going environment of the night.

“So, Sam, what brings you out with Liara?”

“Oh, you know, just going for a night out…. As friends.”

Traynor added the last bit hastily, immediately mentally cursing herself for adding such an awkward annex to a perfectly fine statement. Tali picked up on the timing as well, an eyebrow raised silently inside her helmet, Samantha seeing the silhouette of one eye become slightly taller than the other.

“Oh really?”

“Honestly, Tali, I swear! I don’t have a lot of friends on the crew, and most of them are off doing more… drunken, activities. Liara’s nice to go out with, more level-headed, mature. I did most of my drinking in college, thank-you, no need to repeat that again.”

“Is that really all, Sam?”

Tali’s voice was laden with accusatory sarcasm, her helmet angering forward as she levelled Traynor with a shrouded glance which would be improved only by glasses seated at the bridge of her nose.

“Tali! Yes, it is! Of course it is!”

Traynor gave Tali a light slap as she smiled at the ludicrous suggestion and laughed nervously. The two continued talking, but as they did so Traynor’s mind began running in the background, an internal dialogue of which she was not aware beginning to bring a conclusion of which she had been unaware for some time to the surface. Meanwhile, Shepard and Liara’s conversation had taken a similar turn.

“… so then I called him a ‘Big Stupid Jellyfish’ and stormed out with Javik. The look on everybody’s face… priceless.”

Liara shook her head with amusement as she covered her mouth, the laughter from the story threatening to forcibly remove her drink from her mouth.

“Oh shepard… you never cease to amuse.”

“Thank-you, thank-you. I try, you know. To be amusing. So, what brings you here with Traynor?”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on Liara, I know you don’t normally go out. I feel like you spend most of your nights in with either a book or some top secret report or the other which could destabilize the entire galaxy.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Liara’s indigo blush gave away that, not only did she know exactly what Shepard was talking about, but knew that he was entirely correct.

“So, given how obvious it is that I’m right, what exactly brings you out with Ms. Traynor?”

“She… invited, me out. Rather than being as reclusive as I normally am, I figured there’s no harm in letting myself live a little bit.”

John’s skeptical squint told Liara just how much he was buying of her story, and she suspected it amounted to an unfortunately small amount. Suddenly, his face turned into a wide Grin, and he shook his head while endearingly clapping Liara on the shoulder.

“Come on, I’ll grill you about this later.”

Looking to the rest of the table,  John continued.

“Anybody up for more dancing?”

Zakera Ward, Outside of Coming Home, 0210

The four friends had poured themselves down onto a bench after the club had closed, the stream of pairs and partners scattering, some looking for more activities before calling it a night, others heading straight back to their homes. A steady stream of blue and black uniforms was flowing back towards the barracks, a collection of young men and women, faces flushed from the excitement of the evening, untested and untried by the trials they couldn’t conceive of that were waiting for them. As sailors and marines have always done they traveled in groups of three to five, wildly gesturing and gesticulating as they told stories from their first tour of the night club. A few were walking with a partner, whether they walked in with them or just out, their heads bent together, quietly talking and laughing with each other. Outside the door there was a group of couples, hands joined as one was pulled inexorably back to service and the other back to the rest of their life. There were surprise kisses, long hugs, longing backwards glances, all the hallmarks of the end of a wartime night out. There were some officers and NCO’s among the mix, but they all separated themselves from the group, aware of the situation their rank would put themselves and the rest of the soldiers in.

Shepard had unbuttoned his jacket entirely, a red flush filling his cheeks from both the dancing and the drinks – he had lost count. Traynor had followed suit, but donned her beret in an odd act of formality, the headgear falling off her head at a cockeyed angle which only served to improve her image of a mildly disheveled devil-may-care attitude. Liara’s gloves had long since come off, tucked neatly in one of Sam’s pockets, her face also flushed and a constant grin affixed to her face. While she was not entirely drunk, she suspected that over the course of the night she had consumed more alcohol than she had in a while, and the world was assuredly spinning faster than it should to her eyes. While Tali’s complexion was hidden behind her helmet, her speech was decidedly slurred, the fabric wrapping her suit slightly off-kilter.

Shepard turned to Liara, smiling as he spoke, his speech quiet, as if discussing matters in confidence, but nonetheless slightly slurred.

“So, wait, you’re telling me you two fell asleep on each other? Multiple times?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. A few.”

“And you watch movies together on a couch. The same couch?”

“Yes, Shepard, I’ve told you this before.”

“And drink tea while talking for hours on the Presidium?”

“When I can spare the time, yes.”

“I’m not the only one who sees it, am I?”

Liara looked at Shepard with a slightly inebriated quizzical look, but eventually comprehension dawned slowly in her eyes.

“Well, I thought I did. I thought Samantha was trying to get me to be her wingman, a companion humans have for night’s out of special confidence and friendship, no? But, upon asking her, she said this is not the case.”

Shepard’s laugh was louder than he had intended, and a few people nearby looked over. He kept laughing quite hard, soon bent over and clutching his stomach through the hard chuckles. Slowly, he regained his composure.

“Liara! No, that’s not it at all!”

“Well then, Commander, I fail to see what it is you’re hinting at!”

Shepard shook his head, equal parts amazed, slightly disappointed, and amused.

“I don’t want to ruin it for you. Just… keep an open mind, alright?”

Tali, meanwhile, talking to Traynor, was a little bit less subtle.

“So, you’re telling me you two cuddle while watching movies, lose track of time with each other, and sit oddly close together even when there’s plenty of space? You go out to nightclubs together, arrange breakfast dates, and have spent the majority of your free time on the station together?”

“Yeah, why? Is something wrong with that?”

Tali shook her head, muttering “Keelah” under her breath. When she looked up, she put a hand on Samantha’s shoulder.

“Do I need to spell this out for you, or are you going to figure it out on your own?”

“Honestly, Tali, I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

Tali stared Samantha in the eyes as she spoke.

“Sam, you love her. It’s as clear as a misaligned drive core!”

Traynor stared at Tali in disbelief, her brain slowed slightly by the beverages she had enjoyed throughout the night, but the internal dialogue which had been trying to surface through the music and dancing finally broke through to the surface of her conscious thought.

Wait, what?!

Yeah, haven’t you figured that out yet?

No… No! I hadn’t! I just thought we were… that we… I don’t know what I thought!

Tell me it doesn’t make sense and we’ll reevaluate, but… come on Sam. You know it’s true.

You love her Sam.

I guess I do…

You totally do.

Who would have thought?

Clearly not you!

“I’ll leave you with that one, Sam, I think Shepard and I are going to take a car home.”

Traynor was shaken from her internal thought processes as Tali spoke to her. Shepard and Liara were standing next to them, Tali’s arm around Shepard’s waist and his around her shoulders. Liara stood to Traynor’s right, and suddenly she was aware of the miniscule distance between them. She turned to Tali.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah. Of course. Get home safe!”

“You two also. You coming to Joker’s party?”

“You mean the one at your guys’ place that he invited everybody for? Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Wonderful. Good night!”

The two pairs of people walked away from each other, heading in opposite directions. Liara and traynor walked side by side, mere centimeters separating their hands. Liara turned to Traynor, speaking first.

“Samantha, do you… are you…”

The two stopped shortly after starting, joining the group of couples saying goodnight outside the club. Liara, being slightly taller than Samantha, looked down slightly as the two looked into each-other’s eyes, neither being aware – and certainly not acknowledging – the fact that barely two centimeters stood between them.

“What, Liara?”

“Nothing. Shepard just… said something to me. And it had me thinking.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. Which is alarming. I’m normally the one who knows more.”

“I know, it’s a bit annoying, if I do say so.”

“Is it? Either way, I had just… I don’t know.”

Concern clouded Traynor’s face as she watched the confusion on Liara’s. It was so unlike her to lose her words that the pauses and breaks in her speech immediately concerned Sam. So often had she heard her voice, full of conviction and direction espouse facts which no person had any right to know, that to hear her now so confused and puzzled made Sam immediately uneasy.

Samantha’s face too was furrowed in the brow, Tali’s comments sitting heavily in the back of her mind as she mused over them. Memory after memory replayed in her mind’s eye as she reviewed the evidence, testing the hypothesis against the observations like any good technician would. What she found was consistent with Tali’s claim, from her and Liara’s interactions to her own feelings and reactions to Liara, but it was a prospect which was so large, so unusual for her, that she didn’t quite know how to process it.

It wasn’t that Traynor hadn’t loved in the past, there was a string of broken hearts and summer flings behind her which attested quite the opposite. She had experienced her fair share of hook ups and break-ups, of going steady and breaking things off. But through all of it, no matter how much she ardently denied it, her kind-hearted nature to adverse to the concept to let it be put to words, they had never been able to keep up with her. She had dated in college, but they could never understand what she was working on. She had played the field in Alliance R&D, but none of them had shared her vision. For her, work was her life – a character attribute that played as much as a defect as a strength depending on the moment. And for her partner to not be able to keep pace there was a fatal flaw. But here? Here was an Asari whose intelligence and competence Sam questioned if she could keep up. Self-assuredness had rarely been a problem for her, but her own abilities were thrown into doubt in the shadow of The Shadow Broker. And not only that, she was kind, caring, too big hearted for the galaxy she kept together.

Liara had hung her head, the silence in the moments Sam had taken to think ringing in her ears. While she would not describe herself as lost or confused, Shepard’s comments had certainly left her disoriented. Her heart was something she had learned to guard carefully. From the jokes and cajoling of the archeological team to the ruthless world of the information broker, she had earned bruises and scars which had wizened her more than she would like. There had been times, in her younger years, when she had loved and laughed openly. But with Saren, the Reapers, the Collectors, the galaxy falling to flame around her, those times had seemed long past. Sure, her friendship with Sam had grown, and it was one of the most pleasant things about her life on The Normandy, but she struggled to admit the point it had gotten to. She felt odd, a deep guilt, to be building a friendship, perhaps more, hopefully more, in a galaxy so stripped and stained by pain. More than that, she wasn’t certain if that’s what it was. It had been so long since she had opened up like that, short in years but eternities in experience, that she questioned even what she was feeling. Liara didn’t like not feeling.

Traynor looked up at the Asari, Liara’s head bowed as her eyes were closed in thought.

“Liara?”

“Yes, Samantha?”

“I have a question.”

“I think I do too.”

Traynor steeled herself. Three breathes, then ask, Sam. You need to know, now. After what Tali said… there can be no more room for doubt.

The two spoke over each other.

“Liara, is there anything between us?”

“Samantha, are you interested in me?”

The two took a step back, the shock at the similarity of their questions obvious in their surprise. Liara spoke first.

“You first.”

“No, you.”

“Sam, please?”

Samatha sighed, taking a deep breath.

“Alright. Liara, is there anything between us? Like, not friends? Beyond… friends?”

Two cerulean eyes looked at Samantha, the human’s face quivering as the stress of the question, and the risk of the answer – both affirmative and negative – hung in the air over her head. Liara’s face broke into a smile, not as wide nor as joyous as Samantha would have hoped for, but open, vulnerable, honest. The reply was honest, tentative.

“You know, Sam, I’ve been asking myself the same thing. To be honest, I don’t know. I’ve never been good at dealing with things, feelings, like this. But were I to guess, I would say yes, there is.”

A breath of relief came from Sam, who was surprised to learn that she had even been holding it. She looked at Liara, an immediate flame lit inside her heart once the caution was paid off. She felt the heat of joy and love grow inside her chest, her mind hopelessly trying to temper it with the voice of reason, but the warmth spread through her nonetheless. She realized just how long it had been developing, the relief of hearing Liara’s response releasing the emotional tension within her like a bow string. Her smile was open, wider than her mouth could comfortably form, and her eyes lit up, sparkling with the image of Liara in front of her.

With little notice she jumped forwards, her hands behind Liara’s head. She pulled her in for a kiss. Liara squeaked softly in surprise, not ready for the reaction, her body tensing as she felt Sam pull her forwards. In a fraction of a second Liara relaxed into it, taking notice of the smooth texture of Sam’s lips on hers, the warmth of them, the sweet taste they left.

Not a second later Samantha released Liara, opening her eyes as she panted, out of breath. Liara blinked a few times in surprise, her mouth agape with shock before forming into a bashful smile, her cheeks becoming the color of oceans as she recovered what bits of her composure she could. Traynor’s cheeks were flushed as she spoke.

A few young recruits in the background hooted and cheered, Traynor smiled and laughed as she turned to them and waved, one of them mounting a park bench and yelling “Oo’rah!” as loud as he could before his comrades, laughing, pulled him down.

“You know, Liara, that’s good enough for me.”

“Clearly.”

The two women laughed, turning to walk back to their hotel, shoulder to shoulder with their hands brushing into each other. Silence sat between them, neither awkward nor comfortable, but pleasantly optimistic. After a few moments, Traynor spoke.

“I know you need some time, Liara, I think I might too. But, if there is anything here, I’d like to find it. Can we take things slow, see where they grow, and keep an open mind?”

“I think I’d like that, very much. It’d be nice to have something beautiful in all this.”

The two walked, chatting intermittently, back to their hotel room. Slowly, their hands found each other, just as they had.

[thingsonmyclipboard]

Kelley was an introvert saw repression as the enemy of sanity. He sought out and even embraced life’s darkness; a Poet Apostate who criticized “normative” values, systems of authority and consumer culture. As critics have pointed out his early use of stuffed animals was intended to “drive a wedge between sentimentality and childhood.” His savage critiques appealed to the jaded appetites of some of the art world’s leading collectors.

Kinkade and Kelley were the yin and yang of American art, one favored by conservative “red” America, the other by “blue.” Kinkade’s work was sold in shopping malls, at the Disney Store and on eBay, while Kelley’s was shown in elite galleries and contemporary art museums.

Yet, despite their differences, they both had a deep interest in the same subject matter: the revisiting of their childhood traumas as portrayed in the image of “home.”

Before his death by suicide in early February, Kelley was working on “Mobile Homeland,” an installation that was intended to recreate his childhood home in Detroit. In his final interview Kelly told Tulsa Kinney of Artillery Magazine that the subject was …” almost too fraught with psychology and dysfunction…things that could easily feel like an emotional burden.”

Home, as seen through a child’s eyes, was a subject that Kelley had dealt with before. In his 1995 installation “We Communicate” Kelly wrote texts for a set of children’s paintings that commented on the psychological underpinnings of each image. One of his commentaries says quite a bit about what he thought a painted image of a house could communicate:

“The house is a crudely scrawled heap surrounded by dark messy slashes of color. The surrounding shading produces an atmosphere that screams with anxiety. No German Expressionist has depicted the black torture of the soul better. Although Elaine is obviously an unhappy child, she is, at least, able to express this state of mind openly and need not hide behind the mask of socialization. She need not pretend to be a ‘good girl.’ The adult world of rules and order, symbolized by the house, is sinking back into an infantile fecal mound that Elaine has the capacity to control.”

Clearly, what Kelley had to say about the child’s way of coping — she was in control because she didn’t repress or pretend — is also an manifesto of his own social and personal ethos. “His subversive critique,” wrote George Melrod after Kelley’s death, “was not just aimed outward toward society at large, but seemingly inward at himself.”

By contrast, one of Kinkade’s signature images, “The Christmas Cottage,” is a sentimentalized image of the artist’s childhood home; Kinkade reportedly launched his artistic career to save it after he learned that his mother could no longer afford the mortgage. It has been stated that one in twenty homes in America is decorated with some kind of Kinkade print. You have to wonder: how many homes had “The Christmas Cottage” hanging over the fireplace when Countrywide posted the foreclosure papers on the front door?

The cottage, which glows as if it had swallowed the Star of Bethlehem, exudes a luminescent fairy tale vibe that Kinkade used as his shield against his life’s disappointments. By painting fairy tales, Kinkade was attempting to achieve what Bruno Bettelheim posited was a “…happy outcome, which the child cannot imagine on his own.” Kelley would have called Kinkade’s approach “denial.” Indeed, Kinkade expertly sugar-coated the subject matter of every one of his mass-reproduced images. No wonder one critic called them “visual Prozac.”

Kinkade reportedly died of “natural causes,” which I assume is a sugar-coating of the actual factors. The artist’s public outbursts — he once reportedly urinated on a Winnie the Pooh figure at the Disneyland Hotel in Anaheim while saying “This one’s for you, Walt.” — and his 2010 arrest for drunk driving suggest that the man’s demons were doing everything they could to burst out.

Kelley, by taking his own life, was characteristically honest. His suicide was his admission of unhappiness, a problem that he had discussed openly in his key works. At the time of his death Kelley was reportedly depressed after a breakup with his girlfriend.

Mike Kelley died “critically acclaimed.” Thomas Kinkade died “popular.” As Leonard Koscianski pointed out on Facebook, they both had their constituencies. They both had considerable public and financial success.

“Mike Kelley,” comments Leonard Koscianski, “made very high priced works that ridiculed middle class sentiment. His works were so expensive that they could never be owned by the middle class he disparaged.” His hanging mixed-media installation, “Deodorized Central Mass with Satellites,” sold at auction for just over $2.7 million dollars in 2006. Kelley, who had once addressed cultural consumerism with a fetishistic phallic candle display called “The Wages of Sin” was represented, at the time of his death, by the world’s most powerful contemporary art dealer, Larry Gagosian.

Kinkade’s art and the product line that grew from it was so successful that his art company was publicly traded on the New York Stock Exchange, and at one point had a market capitalization of $350 million (the total value of the stock) based on annual sales of $250 million. Kinkade, who described the art world as “a very small pond…a very inbred pond,” left behind a net worth that is in dispute. One source says “$70 million” another says the artist, who had faced lawsuits by the owners of Kinkade gallery franchises, died “piss-poor.” At the time of his death, Kinkade and his wife Nanette had been separated for more than a year.

Kelley’s bracingly strange and searchingly intellectual art appealed to America’s 1%. Kincade’s hyper-sincerity, and his celebration of Christ, baseball, and glowing cottages made him the favorite artist of America’s 99%. They were two American artists who, in their striking divergence, tell the story of a nation whose center seems ready to tear apart. Stress makes people look for extreme solutions, both in life and art.

Ultimately, both men seem to have suffered in catering to the almost schizophrenically divided tastes of American society. In public they both maintained powerful identities — a bad boy and a good boy — while in private each one got a bit lost trying to find his way “home” to private peace and reconciliation with his childhood experiences. It might be said — in psychoanalytic terms — that both Kelley and Kinkade ultimately failed to sublimate their impulses and idealizations into workable connections with the world.

Let’s hope, for Kinkade’s sake, that he is safely at home in Heaven. It would have to be a light-filled, cotton candy heaven where a compassionate Christ is present. In Kelley’s case, it is tougher to speculate on where his final home might be and who might comfort him. When Tulsa Kinney asked Kelley, during his final interview, if he ever believed in Heaven and Hell, he responded plainly:

‘No. I never believed in anything.’

________________________

To those who have never believed in anything consider placing your faith alone in the Christ who came to earth and lived a perfect life then died for your sins.

Our views below concerning how to go to heaven (this material is from Campus Crusade for Christ).

Just as there are physical laws that govern

the physical universe, so are there spiritual laws that govern your relationship with God.

God loves you and offers a wonderful plan for your life.

God’s Love “God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16, NIV).

God’s Plan [Christ speaking] “I came that they might have life, and might have it abundantly” [that it might be full and meaningful] (John 10:10).

Why is it that most people are not experiencing that abundant life?

Because…

Man is sinful and separated from God. Therefore, he cannot know and experience God’s love and plan for his life.

Man is Sinful “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23).

Man was created to have fellowship with God; but, because of his own stubborn self-will, he chose to go his own independent way and fellowship with God was broken. This self-will, characterized by an attitude of active rebellion or passive indifference, is an evidence of what the Bible calls sin.

Man Is Separated “The wages of sin is death” [spiritual separation from God] (Romans 6:23).

This diagram illustrates that God isholy and man is sinful. A great gulf separates the two. The arrows illustrate that man is continually trying to reach God and the abundant life through his own efforts, such as a good life, philosophy, or religion

-but he inevitably fails.The third law explains the only way to bridge this gulf…

Jesus Christ is God’s only provision for man’s sin. Through Him you can know and experience God’s love and plan for your life.

He Died In Our Place “God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8).

He Rose from the Dead “Christ died for our sins… He was buried… He was raised on the third day, according to the Scriptures… He appeared to Peter, then to the twelve. After that He appeared to more than five hundred…” (1 Corinthians 15:3-6).

He Is the Only Way to God “Jesus said to him, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life, no one comes to the Father but through Me’” (John 14:6).

This diagram illustrates that God has bridged the gulf that separates us from Him by sending His Son, Jesus Christ, to die on the cross in our place to pay the penalty for our sins.It is not enough just to know these three laws…

We must individually receive Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord; then we can know and experience God’s love and plan for our lives.

We Must Receive Christ “As many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, even to those who believe in His name” (John 1:12).

We Receive Christ Through Faith “By grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as result of works that no one should boast” (Ephesians 2:8,9).

When We Receive Christ, We Experience a New Birth (Read John 3:1-8.)

We Receive Christ Through Personal Invitation [Christ speaking] “Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if any one hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him” (Revelation 3:20).

Receiving Christ involves turning to God from self (repentance) and trusting Christ to come into our lives to forgive our sins and to make us what He wants us to be. Just to agree intellectually that Jesus Christ is the Son of God and that He died on the cross for our sins is not enough. Nor is it enough to have an emotional experience. We receive Jesus Christ by faith, as an act of the will.

These two circles represent two kinds of lives:

Self-Directed Life

S-Self is on the throne

-Christ is outside the life

-Interests are directed by self, often

resulting in discord and frustrationChrist-Directed Life

-Christ is in the life and on the throne

S-Self is yielding to Christ,

resulting in harmony with God’s plan

-Interests are directed by Christ,

resulting in harmony with God’s plan

Which circle best represents your life? Which circle would you like to have represent your life?

The following explains how you can receive Christ:

You Can Receive Christ Right Now by Faith Through Prayer (Prayer is talking with God)

God knows your heart and is not so concerned with your words as He is with the attitude of your heart. The following is a suggested prayer:

Lord Jesus, I need You. Thank You for dying on the cross for my sins. I open the door of my life and receive You as my Savior and Lord. Thank You for forgiving my sins and giving me eternal life. Take control of the throne of my life. Make me the kind of person You want me to be.

Does this prayer express the desire of your heart? If it does, I invite you to pray this prayer right now, and Christ will come into your life, as He promised.

Now that you have received Christ

[fic-dreamin]

Not the Disney Pinocchio you may be familiar with! Those categories above don't really work for all books. I read this book because my dear late Mother had made a quilt showing the story when I was much younger. While the quilt was on display a couple of visitors asked to see it. The Disney version did not jive with the quilt so I finally got curious enough to buy this translation and really, really enjoyed it although the level of cruelty in it would probably frighten today's young listener. Pinocchio was NOT nice even as a log. I would have pitched him in the fireplace myself but happily the little brat finally developed into a decent person. Go to Amazon

Beloved classic, but may be too dark for some younger kids I love the concept of reading original texts, especially of classic stories. However, like a lot of classic fairy tales, this gets a bit dark and gritty. My kids (7 and 4) were troubled to the point of tears. Mom fail. I ended up editing a lot as I read aloud to them to resolve the drama and get through the storyline. Later I found an adaptation that I really liked better for them at their ages. Maybe when they are older, we will revisit the book and they'll appreciate more of the author's cleverness. Go to Amazon

The text is complete, the print is easy on the eyes, and the book is a convenient size. Being a classic, Pinocchio often appears in hardback editions with heavy pages. That’s fine for collectors. But it’s nice to have a light, easy-to-carry copy if you plan on reading and re-reading this wonderful book. And people who think the original story is exactly like the Disney version will be in for a surprise. The book goes into Pinocchio’s personality in way more detail, and there are many more characters, situations and places to enjoy reading about. Here and there, it is a tad preachy, but still it’s a delightful story, full of adventure, emotion, and deep-felt love and devotion. It’s easy to see why this Italian book from 1882 still ranks with children and adults as a continual favorite. Go to Amazon

A morality fable, never out of date. Never having read this story until now (middle-aged parent) I was reminded of the Disney film of the same title, and how it shocked and scared me when Pinocchio turned into a donkey. But now, I understand how and why the fable is the way it is. While the book could be read by younger children, the somewhat violent nature of the episodes might make it better for older elementary- but then, the morality will be all too transparent and such children could dismiss it for being "preachy"- but there, they would be wrong. I am glad to have read it, and learned the moral of the story, even at my age. For, after nursing both an ailing father and a sick mother-in-law until their passing, I fully grasp the reality this fable conveys. Our parents are both our joy, and, when old, our responsibility. And no kind deed ever goes unrewarded; either in this life, or the next. Go to Amazon

This ain't Disney A booklist blog that I read recommended this original version of the story of Pinocchio, published in 1883. It's very much different (and better) than the Disney cartoon we all grew up with. Go to Amazon

Not exactly as I expected... I am like most of you probably in that I watched the Disney cartoon "Pinocchio" when I was a kid. Over the years I heard of how different the book was from the movie, but I was unprepared for the simple nature of its writing style. This book was written long ago, before the introduction of so many complicated and tiring distractions. It was clearly written to young boys to admonish them to make good choices or reap the consequences. As most boys do, Pinocchio masks a series of bad decisions and suffers accordingly before finally making a solid decision to choose a path for himself which is hard but rewarding. I recommend this book be read to children by their parents and be discussed with them. There are quite a few life lessons portrayed in interesting and child appropriate (albeit old fashioned and somewhat outdated) ways. Go to Amazon

GREAT BOOK! Well written too... not childish pablum. When I met my wife in college, one of the things she told me early on was her love of collies... her collie dogs Misty and Promise, and the fact that her mother read her Lassie, Come Home as a child. I surprised her with this a few weeks ago, and she read it NON STOP, blubbering like a child again over the sweetness of the story - and INSISTING that she read me parts of it - which she found impossible to get through without... you guessed it, BLUBBERING - which, you guessed it, made me tear up too. A GOOD CLEAN OLD-FASHIONED READ - for kids of all ages! Go to Amazon

This is a classic tale; there is plenty of ... This is a classic tale; there is plenty of drama and endearing moments. This type of book can be compared to White Fang, Barrie, and Call of the Wild. There is plenty of action to keep you on the edge of your seat. This is a long book. Smalll font. Over 200 pages. 5.4 Accelerated Reader level. Go to Amazon

Five Stars Surreal, funny and dear nice price, quick service Nice quality book with great illustrations A Must-Read Masterpiece! Best illustrations for Pinocchio. Fun Four Stars Good I love this book