#the outfit pack potential … devastating

[sejjiplinth]

mashing up the quarry and barbie with some outfits i think would fit the characters !!!

[oliver-wilson]

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[fmpyear2kb]

Games that utilise vehicular combat.

Mad Max:

In the wasteland known in Mad Max vehicular combat is not just a means of transportation but a part of survival. Max's world is one where the start up of engines and the screech of tires signal not just movement, but conflict and struggle. Vehicles are modified and weaponized extensions of their drivers. From speeding across the desert in pursuit or evasion to engaging in fierce battles on dusty roads, vehicular combat in Mad Max is a chaotic race of speed, strategy, and violence It's a world where every vehicle is a potential weapon.

Carmaggedon:

In Carmageddon vehicular combat takesplace as players are dropped into a chaotic world where the rules of the road are thrown away. Every vehicle becomes a deadly weapon, and every collision a chance to assert dominance in the arena of vehicular combat. Whether it's racing through urban streets filled with obstacles and pedestrians or engaging in head to head battles against rival drivers, Carmageddon offers a relentless onslaught of destruction and action packed chaos. Players can customize their cars with an array of weapons, from spikes and blades to rockets and mines, turning their vehicles into instruments of destruction as they compete to dodge and outlast their opponents. In Carmageddon, vehicular combat isn't just a feature- it's the core of the experience, where survival of the fittest means being the last car standing.

Mario Kart:

In the world of the Mario Kart series, vehicular combat takes on a lighthearted and child friendly tone. Players hop into cartoonish vehicles driven by characters from the Mario universe. While speed is certainly a factor, the focus is more reliant to items scattered across the tracks, offering a variety of offensive and defensive options. From throwing banana peels to or launching shells to knock opponents off course, Mario Kart strikes a balance between strategy and accessibility. The tracks themselves are filled with obstacles and shortcuts, encouraging exploration and mastery of each course. With vibrant visuals, catchy music, and accessible gameplay, Mario Kart's vehicular combat is an engaging and child friendly game.

Death Rally:

In Death Rally, vehicular combat is the heart of the action packed gameplay. Set in a post apocalyptic world where survival depends on speed, skill, and firepower, players step into the seat of heavily armed vehicles and compete in deadly races where anything goes. From machine guns and rockets to mines and oil slicks, every weapon at your disposal is aimed at taking down rival drivers and securing victory. Races unfold on treacherous tracks covered with obstacles and hazards, requiring quick reflexes and tactics to navigate. As players earn credits and upgrade their vehicles, the stakes escalate, leading to showdowns against increasingly deadly opponents. With its adrenaline-fueled races, explosive action, and relentless carnage, "Death Rally" delivers an exciting experience that puts vehicular combat front and center in a battle for survival in a lawless wasteland.

Twisted metal:

In Twisted Metal, vehicular combat is the very essence of the game. Set in a dark and twisted world where chaos reigns supreme, players pilot heavily armed vehicles in a savage competition where the only rule is to destroy or be destroyed. Each vehicle is a unique instrument of destruction, outfitted with an array of devastating weapons ranging from machine guns and missiles to flamethrowers and remote controlled bombs. From the streets of dilapidated cities to treacherous arenas and industrial wastelands, every battleground is a deadly arena where players must outmaneuver and outgun their opponents to survive. With a variety of characters, each with their own motives. Twisted Metal offers a blend of vehicular mayhem and strategic gameplay. Whether fighting it out in intense one on one duels or chaotic free for all battles.

[what-the--curtains]

In a Week

Part 1/4 - A storm blows into town

(Frankie “catfish” Morales x f!reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary: a drive down to a friends wedding gets complicated when you fail to head a warning.

Authors notes: Hello! Another fic cause it keeps snowing here and I’m SICK OF IT but wouldn’t mind it if I was stuck with Frankie💕. Anyways hope you enjoy as always comments are welcome but be nice!

TW: mentions of dead sibling (war related), swearing, mentions of a toxic relationship (based off of personal experience)

Tagged list: @agingerindenial

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~There was nothing worse than a February wedding, well at least one that took place in the frigid northern temperatures you were currently residing in. So you were eternally grateful that your best friend Stella had chosen to have hers down in sunny south Carolina where she had just accepted her first permanent hospital position. She was marrying her first love, a fact you’d usually cringe at but, they were extremely cute together. Stella had met Genevieve through her brothers Will and Benny, well more specifically Will, who had drunkenly run his head through a window one night. This incident resulted in two things, first a nickname that would stick with Will for the rest of his life and a late night call to Stella asking her to come down to the hospital to pick him up. The boys had put Stella down as their emergency contact in an effort to keep their antics hidden from their parents who they knew would only worry. The nurse patching up her idiot brother was none other than Genevieve who was working through her university's clinical course, and the rest? Well, the rest was history

You’d met Genevieve, as well as Will and Benny, sporadically throughout the 8 years you had roomed with Stella, first during your undergraduate degree at Boston University and then again at Stanford while attending medical school. You’d choses Stella as a roommate without much thought, but after just a few weeks together you were inseparable up until the day that you were assigned to your residency. You were slightly jealous when you found out that she would be spending the next four years in the warm embrace of Carolina (and Gen) while you would be living alone throughout the freezing Chicago winters. The pagne of jealousy didn’t last long though, Chicago med was your first choice after all. So here you were, in the last year of residency and in the middle of a brutal -20 degree winter, preparing to drive the 13 hours down to watch Stella get married. You’d considered flying but you knew how fickle airplanes could be in the winter and the last thing you wanted was a delayed flight because a door had frozen shut. Your friends had tried to convince you that driving down alone was far too dangerous a venture and none were more concerned than Santiago Garcia.

You’d known Santiago your whole life. Him being your brother's best friend resulted in him spending a lot of, some may argue too much, time at your house throughout both your childhoods. Your brother, Parker, was 8 years your senior, an age gap that often resulted in an argument over which one of you was the accident. An argument which usually ended with an agreement that in all likelihood you both were. Every summer from before you were born to the time they left for the military the two boys were a constant presence in your life. Hell, even after he left you’d watched him grow as he passed through your household over Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks. One thing was for sure, if Parker was there Satiago Garcia wasn't far behind. He was also there the day you received the news that your brother had gone MIA and he was by your side at the funeral, as you watched the commanding officer hand your mother the flag your brother had died for. After the funeral, life continued to move on around you as did everyone else. You always found it funny how quickly you were supposed to recover from loss, apparently a week was long enough to get over it. At least according to the university and your employers who had started calling with empty condolences that quickly led to the real reason they were calling. Always wanting to know when you’d be coming back. After your brother's passing, Santiago took over his role of big brother to you. He read over your med school applications, scared off potential boyfriends and got all the embarrassing video footage of you at your graduations. He was a permanent fixture in your life, one you hoped you’d never lose. Even now as he continued to blow up your phone in an attempt to sway you from driving up alone, you were thankful for him. Over the past 5 days he sent you lengthy lectures in the form of voice messages and a slew of articles detailing the statistics of winter related accidents. His name pops up on your screen as does a picture you’d taken one night after he'd passed out drunk and you’d stuffed cheetos up his nostrils, an act he has yet to forgive you for. You contemplate ignoring the call, but knowing you were about to go radio silent for the next 8 hours you decide to pick it up.

"Hey Santi what’s up?" you ask, as you half heartedly spread cream cheese onto a poorly toasted bagel.

"Have I ever told you how much I value your friendship?” Even over the phone you could hear the layers of charm he was currently plastering on.

"What do you want?" you say, tossing the knife into the sink.

"Hey! Who says..." he starts, but you don't let him finish.

"Santi I've known you long enough to know your ‘please I need something’ tone by heart" you laugh.

"Okay well I still value you, but ya I absolutely need a favour" Santiago admits.

"Shoot." you say taking a bite of the bagel.

"I need you to pick up a friend of mine, his flight got cancelled. He's in Chicago at the moment, can you drive him down to the wedding?"

"Ughhh are you kidding me Santi? I’m just about to leave" you say through a half chewed mouthful.

"Please! He’s a great guy, Gen wants him at the wedding, he was in basic with us, so a frequent visitor to the hospital. He's usually pretty quiet so you won’t have to spend that much time making small talk, which I know you hate." He pleaded. For anyone else a last minute change like this would have gotten a laugh, and nothing more, but this was Garcia, and you knew he’d do anything for you, so you’d do this for him.

“Fine” you begrudgingly agree “text me his number, I'm heading out in 40 minutes so he'll have to wait at the airport for a bit" you say, finishing your breakfast.

"You’re a godsend! Seriously, what would I do without you?" He chuckles.

"Nothing good i'm sure, besides I figure I probably owe you like, 1000 favours after you

know....'' the phone goes quiet. Five years later and it still stung like it was yesterday, for you both. He was your family, but he was Santiago’s best friend, you knew the loss was equally as devastating for him. You also knew he'd been having a particularly hard time recently, after what he termed a mission gone wrong a few years back. Every time you'd ask about it he’d shut you down harshly refusing to share any details with you.

"You don’t owe me anything. We're family. Thank you for driving him. I owe you a drink at the wedding!" He responds, back to his chipper self. If it wasn’t for the silence he may just have convinced you that he really was doing fine. You toss the phone on the counter and rub your temples mentally rearranging your entire itinerary for the day. You'd already rifled through the gym bag that was constraining way more clothes than you’d need for the week. Everything you needed was there from bathing suits to your wedding outfit to the special lingerie you’d packed in case you ran into an old flame. If by in case you meant, for when you ran into him. You don’t know how but he’d gotten invited to the wedding reception. Stella hated the guy, so it must have been through Genevieve who likely would have felt bad excluding him, even if he was only a friend of a friend.

You’d met Jonathan in your undergrad and you had been together throughout various points in your life, though never in any official sense. He’d made that evidently clear to you at any opportunity he got. He kept you on a short leash, a retainer if you will. Only coming to you between relationships with women that he deemed worthy enough to be his girlfriends. You knew it was toxic, and your friends constant reminders of how unhealthy it was didn’t fall on deaf ears. The way he would use you and lose you always ended with you being an unstable and emotional wreck, only solidifying his claims of you being crazy. You hated it, the way he made you feel so small, but he held this strange power over you. A power not even you could explain. His redeeming qualities could only be found in the bedroom, he was the best you’d ever had, so you forgave his shitty personality. Always gravitating back towards him, restarting the cycle. You knew what it meant to do the same activity over and over expecting different results, but this was different. At least that's what you told yourself, as you’d traced your hands over the lingeries lace that morning, knowing it was bought for a man who would never appreciate it.

Brushing all thought of him aside for the time being you grab the duffle off the floor and sling it over your shoulder. Walking out into the cold February air you watch as your breath transforms into a small cloud in front. Your chest hurts and nose hairs freeze as you inhale, tossing your bag into the back seat before leaning into the car and starting it up. The engine sputters for a moment before breaking out into a loud rumble, maybe it was a good thing someone else would be in the car with you after all. You jog back inside to your townhouse and grab the cooler where you’d stored the snacks and sandwiches you’d prepared for the road, now realizing it likely wouldn’t be enough to feed two people. Tossing on your winter jacket you lock the door behind you and slide your sunglasses down over your eyes shielding them from the afternoon sun as you make your way into your car.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You pull up to the departure gate still cursing at the idiot who had almost smashed into you while they were going the wrong way down a one way street. You hated driving in the city and you couldn’t wait to get out on the open road, even if it was going to be with a total stranger. You find yourself second guessing your decision to drive down state with someone you’d never met. In all reality, even if Santi was vouching for him, he could be a serial killer, plenty of people had nice things to say about Ted Bundy before he got caught.

You shake off the nervous feeling taking over your body, deciding to put your faith in your friends judgment, at least for now. Worse comes to worse you had a pocket knife stowed within reach. As long as he didn’t complain about any playlists or podcasts and understood your need for complete silence from time to time, you’d get on just fine. Besides it was only a 13 hour drive, and you could put up with anything for 13 hours.

You open up your phone and pull up the conversation you and Santiago had been having, scrolling up until you see the contact he’d sent you which read “ Catfish”. You click on it hoping to get the guys real name as a result but no luck, you should have asked Garcia for more information about this “Catfish” guy. You click on the number opting to call, not wanting to waste time wondering if he’d gotten the text you’d sent. The phone rings a few times before you hear someone pick up.

"Catfish?" you say, less confident in yourself than you had been dialing.

"In the flesh, who's this?" the deep voice responds.

"Your ride, Santiago’s friend" you offer, hoping that this wasn't some elaborate prank.

"Oh shit ya, Pope told me you’d be later than you said. I'm still downstairs" he says.

"Of course he did the little shit" you mutter, causing Catfish to laugh "Im outside now, departures second floor"

“I'll be out in a second" he says, hanging up the phone before you can say anything else.

You plug your phone back into the aux setting it back to the playlist you’d made last night during another bout of insomnia. You're checking your email to see if anything came up from the hospital when a tap at the window causes you to jump. As you look over you see the man who must be “Catfish” gently tapping on the glass. You unlock the door, popping the trunk as you slide out the driver's seat.

“You can put your bags back here. Fuck!" you exclaim when you trunk won’t open, likely having frozen shut again.

"Here" he says dropping his bag on the salted pavement and heaving up on the trunk freeing it from its icy constraints with a relative ease causing him to smile down at you.

"I loosened it" you say defensively, as he tosses his bag in the back still grinning when he

slams the trunk shut.

"Fransico Morales, though most people just call me Frankie" he says as you sit back down in the driver seat rubbing your hands together to warm them and applying some chapstick.

"Y/N, nice to meet you Frankie, seat warmers are here, use as your leisure. There are snacks in the back, but no touching the phone.” you rattle off.

“Aye aye captain” he responds, saluting you.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Santiago was right, Frankie was quiet. He offered you little in conversation or any noise at all really. You’d only heard him laugh maybe twice, once while listening to a podcast episode and then again when Britney Spears made her appearance on your soundtrack. "What? She’s America's sweetheart" you say trying to sound offended, but smiling when you notice his lopsided grin. You’d attempted to open up a dialogue with him a few times, but his one worded responses told you all you needed to know, so you stopped forcing it. It wasn’t a hostile environment, it was more of a comfortable silence one that you usually only found in people you had known for years. The silence gave you an opportunity to study the man’s features, glancing away from the road every now and then to slowly piece together his profile. You had pegged him as attractive the second his face had appeared in your passenger window, but it wasn't until now that the details that made him so could be seen; relatively tall, tanned skin, soft curls, deep brown eyes. Glancing over again you notice a concerned look spread across his face.

"What?" you ask, nervous that you’d creeped him out with your excessive, and not so subtle staring.

"Storms coming our way" he says, nodding up at the darkening sky.

"We’re not supposed to get snow for another week, I checked” you reassure.

"Things change" he says

" Sky’s clear, so we don’t stop for another 3 hours" you say, definitively.

" Your funeral, well mine as well I guess" he chuckles, earning him an icy glare from you.

“It's nothing, trust me” you affirm, confident in your ability to read a weather app.

" No one likes a know-it-all" he mutters still grinning.

"Could you help me with something" you ask smiling sweetly

"Sure" he responds, eager to help.

"Pull up the map and show me when I asked for your opinion"

"Eyes on the road” he says, causing your grip to tighten around the wheel.

Well crow wasn’t your favourite food to eat, but here you were eating it. Turns out Frankie was right. A storm was heading your way and it hit hard and fast. You’d managed to make it to a hotel off the freeway just as it came into full effect. What had started as a very pleasant road trip had quickly soured when you refused to apologize for not heading his warning. This paired with the 6 hours you had already driven had left you both irritable so much so that Frankie was now refusing to be any use in respect to figuring out what your next move was going to be.

"Hi" you say to the equally tired looking receptionist. Apparently, every other person travelling through Illinois had also missed the memo about the storm and were now all stuck at the same hotel.

"Hi, so sorry for the wait" she says, forcing a smile in a way that you recognized from your retail days.

"No need to apologize! What are the odds you have any rooms available?" you ask rubbing your eyes in an attempt to keep them open.

"Let me check, we have one... suite left on the... fourth floor” she says after a few moments of typing away into the computer.

"Perfect we’ll take it." you say, tapping your credit card to the machine. You walk back over to Frankie who was sitting with the bags and hand him a room key. He exhales deeply, not looking up from his phone as he takes it from you.

"There was only one room left so we’ll have to share" you say.

"Fine," he says, standing up, grabbing his bag and heading over to the elevator not bothering to wait for you. You watch as the elevator doors open and close behind him. Sure maybe it was your fault that you were stuck in this situation, but that was pretty rude. You push your way into the room after struggling with the key for a moment. Frankie must have been eager to get to sleep, or at least eager to not converse with you as he’d wasted no time in unpacking his bag and getting ready for bed. Your eyes move from the clothes on the floor, to the suit hung up in the closet, to the closed bathroom door. You hear the toilet flush and watch the door open as you drop your bag down onto the living room floor, grabbing the toiletries out of your bag's side pocket. You were far too tired to wrestle down to your pyjamas so you opted to stay in the leggings and sports bra you’d been wearing all day. Yes it was gross, but you couldn't be bothered to change at this point. Your eyes follow Frankie as he exits the bathroom in a green cotton t-shirt and a pair of plaid boxer shorts. You continue to watch as he plugs his phone in and shifts beneath the covers. Guess you were on the floor then. The couch was far too small, and you really weren't trying to break your neck sleeping on its arm rest.

"Pass me a pillow" you huff, as you grab a glass from the nightstand, turning back around to fill it up with water from the sink.

Why?" he asks, watching you take a sip from the overfilled cup.

"So I can sleep on the floor." you state, as if it was obvious.

“No, I’ll do that, you can have the bed" he says shifting up and pushing the blankets off himself. He hadn’t realized you were so averse to sharing a bed with him, but you had just met so he guessed it was fair enough.

"I’m not the one with the bad back old man" you state, the words sounding a lot harsher than you’d intended, but you were younger and thus more likely to recover.

"Fair point, but you’re not sleeping on the floor. Santi wouldn’t allow it. We can put up a pillow barrier between us if that would make you feel more comfortable" he offers, any hostility you had felt from him earlier now turned to tenderness. In all honesty, you hadn’t realized that sharing the bed was an option.

"I need two to sleep with so no point in making a barrier" you say, begrudgingly placing the glass back down on the nightstand "Shift" you say, fanning your hand.

"No" he says looking you dead in the eye "I got here first" he’s grinning slightly, further indicating he’d gotten over his anger from earlier. You could have just walked around to the other side, but for some unknown reason you don’t. Instead, you swing your leg over him pushing yourself up onto the bed, straddling him for the briefest moment before rolling over to the other side.

"Couldn’t have just walked around?" he chuckles

"Couldn’t have just shifted over?" you parrot back, moving onto your back, closing your eyes and dozing off.

[coffee-is-below-my-standards]

i have so. many. questions about all those deleted scenes can you make sense of any of it?

Oh ho ho! Me. Too. Dear anon. Me too.

Where to begin?? Some of the deleted scene and bts photos I think are pretty clear, others I think could be a lot of different things or go a lot of different ways and I just hope we’ll eventually get to actually see the deleted scenes in all their glory instead of just these shots of them. But here’s what I’ve been thinking:

This one,, AH!! I just love everything about this! 😍 Mildred looks SO beautiful! The white, the flower, her hair, the soft light on her face— just all of it is so soft I love it. I’m getting like, a clinic in Mexico vibes off this. Like, Gwen is getting treatment and is on the upward incline. There’s good news, everything is love and light, and nothing can touch them here. Those are the vibes.

This just looks like an extended version of the “luminous month” scene. I don’t see how it would be anything other than that. I’m actually glad they didn’t include this part because the green tone throughout the show seems to foreshadow something more sinister and this scene just didn’t need that.

My best guess for this one is that this is the outfit she’s wearing when she comes back to the hospital to meet with Betsy and ask her about Edmund’s execution. So maybe she gets there and asks for Betsy and someone tells her to sit and wait and this is that?

Ooh boy This One. This is the outfit Mildred is wearing when Edmund escapes with Charlotte. I don’t know how it all unfolds (I’ve got a shell of a potential fic, but really I think someone else could do a much better job than me, but I digress) but to me, this looks like Mildred has come home after Edmund’s escape and is packing her (maybe their) shit. They need to leave. Edmund will come for her which means Gwen is in danger and she certainly can’t have that. And Gwen, of course, is trying to reason with her. Get her to calm down and take a breath. Probably something along the lines of, “Every cop in the state is looking for him, do you really think he would risk coming after you right now?” And of course Gwen is right.

This. This, this. I honestly have no idea but I REALLY wanna know. I LOVE when my favorite, perfectly calculated and restrained character LOSES IT and smashes a mirror! That shit gets me every time! So I don’t know, but I want to know.

This I would guess unfolds right after Edmund’s escape. Mildred of course would go into Lucia to check on Betsy and Huck and find out what happened. And I guess maybe this officer is giving her a pat down for obvious safety and security reasons at this point.

Then these two are just different angles of shots we obviously did get to see in the show. Nothing too exciting.

So, yeah. That’s kinda my take on this deleted and bts shots. If we never get to see some of these scenes I’m gonna be devastated! And I’m gonna need some more prolific fanfic writers than me to get on it!! 😆

If anyone has anything they’d like to add or anything they took differently, I’d love to hear it!

[theyre-just-blocks]

Star Wars x Dream SMP

Pt. 1

I saw some fanart of a Mandolarian Dream and my brain went brrrrrrr

Anyways, here are some ideas I have for a potential Dream SMP in the Star Wars universe.

Let's say this is all during the prequels/originals?? Like between them or somethin.

They'll most likely be all over the place and some of it will likely not be accurate because I'm new to the Dream SMP and I don't have an extensive knowledge of Star Wars but just think about their OUTFITS.

Anywho-

The Dream Team

Dream:

MandolorianMandolorianMandolorian

He's definitely some kind of Mandolorian bounty hunter who's really made a name for himself

Was he born on Mandalore? Mayhbe??

He's got a green beskar armored suit and is known for speed running his bounties

He's just insanely good at his job and usually just takes up whoever's willing to pay him the most

Currently he's being hunted down though by a Jedi and his crew so he's not too happy with it

He doesn't really give a damn about the Empire or the Rebels so he kind of does his own thing

I'm thinking he's part of the Death Watch branch of Mandos because he refuses to take his helmet off

He's actually a decent pilot, ngl, and his favorite weapon to use is his harpoon

He also has a jet pack he occasionally uses and prefers close combat weapons to traditional blasters

Even though he's being hunted down, he enjoys messing with the people who are hunting him down

He gets caught by them though but they decide to team up and create chaos for the galaxy

Dream works for the Empire and does some bounties for them because they pay him a lot

He then convinces George and Sapnap to join him and work for the Empire just because they pay them good

George:

JEDI GEORGE

He has a blue lightsaber

AweSamDude was his master (more on him later)

He managed to escape Order 66 just because he was luckily not around for it (he slept through it)

He was hunting down the Mandolorian so he was safe from troopers

However the lost devastated him and he wasn't sure how many Jedis still remained

Change the glasses into some cool goggles or some shit that help with his color blindness

Currently he's tasked with hunting down a Mandolorian because his master said so?? (I really don't know why he is, this is just manhunt but Star Wars)

He's not too skilled with the Force to be honest :// but he's getting there!!!

Along the way he meets Sapnap and gets him to help him hunt down Dream

Let's say eventually they do capture him but since Order 66 happened, George isn't sure what to do with him

So they form a pact/deal and team up despite their ancestors being enemies

They decide to look for more Jedis and cause chaos for the Empire while doing so

However, Dream convinces them to join the Empire as bounty hunters

But since Geroge is a Jedi he stays out of it as much as possible because he doesn't want to be found out, so instead he continues his search for other Jedis

Sapnap:

Bounty Hunter/Smuggler Sapnap

I'm sorry, I just,,, Han Solo but it's Sapnap

Hot headed pilot who's quick with a gun and has nothing better to do so he joins a Jedi on his hunt for a Mandolorian who likes messing with them

Let's give him a blaster

He was trained by BBH!!!

BBH runs the Badlands, an Outer Rim group who trains smugglers and Sapnap is one of them

He's quick witted and even quicker with a blaster but he wishes he could use a lightsaber

He's the one with the ship and isn't that bad of a pilot tbh (George is definitely worse at it)

He doesn't really care for the Rebellion or the Empire, so long as he gets paid, he's good

So that's why he decides to help George hunt down the Mandolorian, because George is supposedly going to pay him

Once they finally catch the Mandolarian though, they decide to team up and Sapnap wants his money

Later on he agrees to join the Empire with Dream because Dream assures him he'll be paid

He works as a cargo pilot for some time before they let him work alongside Dream to hunt down rebels

Sleepy Bois Inc

Philza

JEDI MASTER PHILZA

Let's say he escaped Order 66 and smuggled out his padawans

He got away and hid from the Empire so he could continue to raise/train his children/padawans

GREEN LIGHTSABER

He's really great with the Force and his lightsaber skills so he's someone to be reckoned with

Hahahahahahaha,, imagining Wilbur's death but instead of a sword it's a lightsaber-

Like Han Solo's death but reversed

Once his padawans were older though he kinda disappeared and went into hiding until he was needed

That's when he showed up because he heard Wilbur was causing some trouble

Eventually I would think he abandons the traditional Jedi ways and becomes a Grey Jedi with white saber like Ashoka's

Wilbur

JEDI WILBUR

At first, Wilbur was all for the Rebellion, he fought alongside the Rebels and helped with his Jedi abilities

I want him to have a yellowish lightsaber

He was basically adopted by Philza and had been training under him for years

Basically he was Philza's padawan

He was a strong Jedi but after falling in love with Sally and having Fundy, he was shamed by the Jedi Council because they aren't allowed to have relationships

So he left the temple and joined the Rebellion with Fundy once his son was old enough to fight

HOWEVER

He decides to switch sides after he starts to lose hope in the Rebellion and is betrayed by Eret

Eventually him and Fundy switch sides and join the Empire later on

When they realize he's a Jedi he's granted a red saber or somethin

And in order to keep his title he completely disregards Fundy and basically leaves him on his own

He takes charge of his own fleet and goes mad with power, taking over planets and whatnot, and is eventually slain by Philza who came to try and talk some sense into him

Technoblade

He was adopted by Philza, but when he did, Techno was a little too old to be trained as a proper padawan

So Philza trained him in secret alongside Wilbur since Techno was Force sensitive

When it comes down to it, Wilbur is strong with the Force and Techno is strong in his swordsmanship

His family was killed by the Empire so he has a strong dislike for them

When Wilbur ran off after Fundy was born Techno stayed with Phil to train Tommy for a bit before deciding to join the Rebels

Soon he became radicalized and realized he didn't like the rebels and their ideals

So he broke off from the rebels and decided he would do his own thing

Most likely became a bounty hunter but he doesn't work for the empire

He felt betrayed when Wilbur joined, but he didn't do anything to try and stop him

Tommy

One of the strongest Jedis Philza has ever encountered

And Tommy knows it so it just fuels his ego

He wants a red lightsaber because it's "cool" but he's stuck with a blue one

Technoblade trained him until he left, shortly after Wilbur left, and a few months before Order 66 happened

After that, Philza continued Tommy's training

Tommy was one of the padawans at the temple who grew up there, but when Order 66 happened, Philza had to get him out

He's very headstrong so Philza thinks that makes him dangerous

He prefers to use his saber more than using the Force

After his older brother's left he was eager to join the Rebellion and Philza let him

Philza knew he'd be hunted down so he told Tommy to join the Rebels while he escaped to the Outer Rim

So Tommy joined and quickly gained ranked, thanks to his older brothers

However, he notices that they start to act different and that they've changed, so relationships start to break

The final breaking point though is when Techno supposedly kills Tommy's friend, Tubbo, after the Rebels find out he's a double spy, which is not entirely true

Tubbo

Tubbo was an orphan who was picked up by Philza and Tommy one day

He wasn't Force Sensitive but they let him stick around anyways

He spent a lot of time with Tommy and not so much the older two

When Order 66 happened, Philza took him as well, afraid of what the Empire might do to him

He helped Tommy with his training a bit but he couldn't do much since he's no Jedi

However, Philza suggested being a pilot and Tubbo wasn't that bad at it

When the older brothers left, Tubbo stayed and did the errands for Philza and Tommy so that they'd be safe and hidden

He was offered a job by some Imperials who thought they could use a pilot like him for cargo deliveries

Thinking he could be a double spy, he gladly took the job and didn't tell anyone

It didn't get him into trouble until after he and Tommy joined the Rebels

Someone found out (quite possibly Wilbur) and Tubbo was interrogated but no one but Tommy believed him

The had Techno execute him, but since Tubbo was somewhat of a brother, Techno made sure Tubbo would survive somewhat

Tubbo did, but suffered several permanent wounds

It wasn't till after Tommy's fallout with his brothers that Tubbo revealed himself as alive to him

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[thecorpulentbeagle]

Okujima Week 2020: Metaverse

This part is going to take place in the Persona Q2 universe. If you don’t know the plot of this game, don’t worry! I will be giving background in the descriptions of this story so that you have a relative idea of what is going on. Essentially, the casts of P3, P4 and P5 are all together in a cinema labyrinth, trying to figure out how to escape. Of course, they fight some enemies here and there!

If you are playing this game and do not want to be spoiled, I will let you know that this story will require knowledge past beating the fourth labyrinth, as there will be mention of an F.O.E. from this labyrinth.

If you haven’t played this game, I highly recommend it! I had a blast playing it, and the first game (Persona Q) is fun as well. Both games are standalone, though, so you don’t have to play the first to understand the second.

But enough rambling out of me!

Here is the fanfiction.net link.

Please enjoy this fourth part of the Okujima Week 2020 Challenge!

As always: THIS STORY WILL NOT CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR PERSONA 5 ROYAL, BUT WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR PERSONA 5.

Okujima Week 2020 Challenge:

Showing Strength:

Metaverse

-Makoto-

“Everyone ready?”

The four Persona-users nodded their heads at their current leader, signaling their agreement.

Akira, clad in his Joker outfit, nodded back. “Then let’s take him down!” He stepped forward, the rest of the group following behind him.

“It’s gonna be a one-hit KO!” Akihiko shouted, slamming a fist into his gloved hand.

“One good kick will send it flying!” Chie cheered back, kicking the air in front of herself a few times.

Makoto shook her head in amusement as she watched the two. The special screening mission that had been assigned to them had involved finding a strong enemy to defeat for the battle-enthusiasts of the group. It had been called “Let Your Fists Do the Talking”, and Chie and Akihiko had taken this to heart (even though Chie would be using her legs and feet).

Makoto had decided to join in as well, hoping to devise a training regimen for them, seeing as they had asked her for just that earlier. The mission so far had gone relatively smoothly, even though this labyrinth in particular was extremely creepy and disorienting.

Everything in it was cute… at least on the surface. There was an underlying… disturbing quality to everything, and this enemy that they were about to engage was no exception.

According to Futaba, it was called Mr. Bear, and it certainly looked like one. It was a tiny stuffed teddy bear, and it would skip around the labyrinth.

However, once it skipped for a few moments, it would transform into a grotesque form, tripling in size and turning into more of a buff grizzly bear. It was certainly nothing like the Buchimaru-kun stuffed animals that Makoto had collected in her room.

Futaba also let them know that its power readings were off the charts (she had originally screamed something about it being “over 9,000”, and it had sounded like the young girl was quoting something, though Makoto had no idea what).

Luckily, Akira had decided to pack the team with powerhouses that were relatively agile as well. Seeing as the screening was tailor-made for Akihiko, Makoto, and Chie, the three were obviously in. Since Akira had been leading the group for this journey, he decided to come along as well.

After several minutes of debate, Akira decided to bring Haru along. Though she was slow with her axe, when her strikes did connect, the damage was a sight to behold. The girl also had the most health out of anyone, so she could take hits if necessary.

Makoto was glad that Haru would be coming along, as the two had great chemistry when it came to battle. They also had great chemistry off of the battlefield, but that fact wasn’t as important now.

Though the brawler was happy that her girlfriend would be accompanying them, she was also slightly nervous. She didn’t want Haru to get hurt, as Akira had warned them all that it was very likely for everyone in the group to sustain potentially life-threatening injuries in this particular battle. Everyone had signed on willingly, but Makoto couldn’t help but worry.

As the group approached the transformed bear, Makoto lifted up a hand and squeezed Haru’s shoulder. “Be careful, alright?”

Haru turned to look at her. Makoto saw that, while Haru had been quiet for most of this mission, her expression was now alight with a sadistic gleam, her eyes sparkling and her smile in an upturned grin. This wasn’t entirely unusual, as Haru delighted in slaying Shadows. However, it was a little worrisome to see after telling her to not be reckless.

When she noticed Makoto looking at her strangely, her features returned to something more normal.

“Of course, Queen. You be careful too,” she murmured.

Makoto nodded. She knew Haru had a tendency to attack with reckless abandon, which usually worked in their favor. However, Makoto had a particularly bad feeling about this enemy, so she wanted to make sure that Haru was brutal, but still careful.

She let go of the girl’s shoulder as Akira threw a dagger at the bear, causing him to roar and charge at them.

“Everyone, get in position!” Akira yelled.

Makoto and Akihiko readied their fists, while Chie began to jump back and forth between both legs, warming them up. Haru lifted up her axe, and Akira brandished his dagger.

Mr. Bear roared, appearing to charge up energy.

“Watch out, guys! It looks like the enemy’s gonna hit you really hard soon,” Futaba warned, her voice crackling with static as she projected back from their base.

“Got it, Oracle.” Akira stood to guard and instructed everyone else to do so.

It seemed that this was a solid plan, as Mr. Bear flailed and struck everyone in the party. Makoto grunted as she sustained damage, and heard everyone else do the same.

“Damn it,” Akihiko growled. “The thing’s got a heck of a punch.”

Makoto didn’t want the group to be reckless. It wasn’t worth getting killed over just to complete a mission that had been devised for entertainment. “Oracle! What are our chances with this?”

Meanwhile, Haru had swung her axe and connected with her target. Blood gushed out of the bear’s arm as he roared in pain. Makoto’s stomach dropped when she saw that his glare focused on the axe-wielder.

Luckily, Chie sent a kick its way, which disoriented the creature and caused his focus to be split between the two.

“I’d say you have a 60% chance with how it’s going right now,” Futaba answered.

“What?” In her panic, Makoto had nearly forgotten that she had asked Futaba a question. That was dangerous. She couldn’t afford to get distracted – it could literally be the difference between life and death. Shaking her head, she responded, “Thanks, Oracle.” She called out Johanna to increase the defense of the party, seeing as Mr. Bear’s hits were dealing an alarming amount of damage.

60%. Those weren’t good odds. Even so, Makoto had a duty to listen to Akira and support her allies.

The battle raged on for a few more turns. Mr. Bear had finally started to show signs of damage, but everyone on the team was a mess. Futaba was frantically healing what she could, but her support had its limits.

Makoto was sure that if this were a battle in the real world, they would all probably have broken bones, if not worse. The damage was so great, that she could easily see some of them being dead.

She struck a quick uppercut with her right fist, grunting with exertion. It was like punching a brick wall.

As if hearing her inner thoughts, Mr. Bear proceeded to plow into the team, the force feeling like a ton of bricks falling on them.

“This isn’t good,” Akira muttered. Chie and Akihiko were barely able to stand upright, and Akira didn’t look much better. Haru seemed to be faring the best, though even she looked utterly exhausted. Makoto herself knew that the group couldn’t sustain another attack like that.

“Guys, I’m not gonna have enough energy to heal you again.” Futaba appeared to be panicking. “It’s not worth it. You need to run. Now!”

“No! It’s almost down. We’ve gotta finish this.” Akihiko blindly swung a fist, missing the beast. He stumbled and fell.

“Crap, I don’t have enough health to strike him hard!” Chie shouted. She put her hands to her knees, breathing heavily.

“Queen, can you heal any of us? Or do we have any items?” Akira turned to look at her, his eyes pleading.

Makoto nodded. “No more items, but I think I have enough energy to heal one person.”

“Got it, heal –”

A devastating roar cut off what Akira was about to say. Makoto looked back at the enemy to see that it was preparing to strike.

“Shit!”

Mr. Bear swung with its arms, hitting the ground in front of him. Makoto saw that Akira had blocked, but that Chie and Akihiko were not going to react in time.

Makoto raised her arms to defend herself, but she knew that this hit would end her. She closed her eyes.

But they opened in shock when she heard a cry of pain directly in front of her. She saw with horror that Haru had leaped in front of her, shielding her with her body.

Unfortunately, Haru had not had any time to defend herself, so she took the full force of the attack. She flew back into Makoto, knocking her off of her feet and sending both of them to the ground.

Luckily, Haru seemed to have dropped her axe when she jumped in front of Makoto, otherwise the blade would have impaled them both.

But Makoto didn’t care about that now.

“Noir! Noir! Haru!” Makoto cried, sitting up with the girl in her arms. She didn’t move.

“Queen! We need to finish this fight now!” Makoto vaguely heard Akira in the background, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of Haru.

She couldn’t believe it. The two had talked about defending the other with their lives, but Makoto had always assumed that she would be protecting Haru, as she had done so several times in the past. Not that the other girl couldn’t take care of herself, because anyone with eyes could see that she could do that in spades. It was because Makoto never wanted to be in a situation where Haru would have to risk her life for her.

“Useless!” she thought to herself.

“Queen!” She felt her shoulder being grabbed roughly. She snapped out of her thoughts and looked up at Akira, who was looking at her with an expression of forced calm. “Noir, Akihiko, and Chie are all down. We need to destroy this enemy, or we’ll be next.”

Makoto nodded. She took one last glance at Haru before setting her gently down on the ground. “Thank you…” she murmured.

“I’ve boosted your attack. Give ‘em hell, you two!” Futaba cheered.

Makoto cracked her knuckles as she felt power swell within. “With pleasure,” she growled.

She launched herself at the creature, punching it twice with all of her might. Mr. Bear roared in pain as it reared back, dazed.

“Ha!” Akira jumped at the beast, taking advantage of its distraction as he slashed at his eyes, blinding it.

“Queen, now!” Akira commanded.

Makoto roared just like the beast before throwing a haymaker at Mr. Bear’s head, slamming it down. The ground shook as it collided, and it gave one last deafening cry before it was silent.

Makoto and Akira looked at each other, both breathing heavily. “Nice work, Queen,” Akira murmured, smiling gently at her.

Makoto nodded. “You as well.” Her eyes widened as her adrenaline returned to normal and she remembered why she had become so enraged in the first place. “Noir!”

She ran over to the girl, who appeared to still be unconscious. She knelt down, dropped her weapons to the ground, and gently lifted Haru’s upper body onto her lap, her previous violent rage replaced with a gentle and worried touch. “Haru…” Makoto whispered.

“Ngh…” Haru’s eyes were still closed, but it seemed like she wasn’t entirely unconscious anymore. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and Makoto could see a sheen of sweat on her forehead. Not that that was particularly unusual, given how hard they had all been fighting. Makoto herself was practically drenched.

“Queen.” Makoto looked up to see Akira standing a few feet away, looking down at her with a concerned expression. “How is she?”

She looked back down at her girlfriend, who was continuing to make sounds of pain. “Not good,” she said simply.

Akira gave a deep sigh. “Akihiko and Chie aren’t doing much better.”

Makoto quickly glanced over at the other two members of their party. They were both unconscious, but the rise and fall of their chests proved that they were still alive.

“You guys! That was awesome!” Makoto jumped a little at Futaba’s sudden exclamation. “Mr. Bear is no more!”

“Thanks, Oracle.” Akira rubbed the back of his neck.

Makoto simply nodded in acknowledgement before looking back down at Haru, whose teeth were gritted. She couldn’t stand to see her in so much pain.

“We’re gonna need to head back –”

Makoto interrupted Akira’s instructions as she stood up, cradling Haru in her arms. As soon as she was up, she realized that this might have been a mistake. Her own muscles were burning from exertion, and she could feel the wobbliness in her knees from having to support the weight of two people.

“I’ll get Noir. Can you handle the others?” Makoto indicated the two other members of their party with a quick jerk of her head.

“Queen. We can just have Oracle teleport us back you know.” Despite the situation, Akira gave Makoto a slight smirk.

“O-Oh. Right. Of course.” She could feel the heat building up behind her mask.

“But by all means, continue carrying your girlfriend bridal style. I don’t mind.” Akira snickered. “By the way, here’s her hat.” He plopped it down onto Haru’s head. Makoto hadn’t even realized that it had gone flying off when they had collided.

“Th-That’s not –”

“You’re such a sappy romantic, Queen! Who would’ve thought?” Futaba teased.

“Noir must have quite the effect on her.”

“Can we please leave now?” Makoto didn’t think she could take much more of this. Both the teasing and carrying Haru. It didn’t help matters that the rest of their large group was watching this scene unfold as a literal movie on screen.

“Got it!”

There was a flash of light.

--

The party of five arrived back at the lobby, with Akira’s, Makoto’s, and Haru’s Phantom Thieves disguises disappearing and turning back into their school uniforms.

With the little bit of energy Makoto had remaining, she dashed over to a free couch to deposit Haru onto it. She felt terrible as she essentially dropped the other girl, but it was all she could do before collapsing to the ground on her knees.

“Whoa! Take it easy, Makoto-san!” Rise was by her side in an instant. “Haru-san’s safe. We’ll make sure that we take care of her now.”

“We’ll need to take care of Akihiko-senpai and Chie-chan too!” Yukari appeared by her other side. She turned her head to look behind herself. “Can we get them on some couches?”

“On it!” Junpei picked up Akihiko and took him to another available couch, dropping him unceremoniously.

“Would you mind getting Chie, Kanji-kun?” Yukiko asked. She was kneeling by her best friend’s side.

“Leave it to me, Yukiko-senpai!” Kanji flexed his bicep before diving in to retrieve the girl.

Makoto watched the events unfold in a haze. She was mostly checking on the status of her teammates by instinct, and once she confirmed that they would all be okay, she turned her attention back to Haru.

“We’ll need to heal you up as well, Makoto-san.” Fuuka popped up behind her, resting a hand on Makoto’s shoulder.

Makoto shook her head. She didn’t need help right now.

“Hey, Fuuka.” Yukari stepped back. “Why don’t we get some healing stuff for them and bring it over?”

Rise jumped back as well. “Yeah! Let’s go!”

The three girls walked over to the concession stand, most likely to secure popcorn and hot dogs. No one really understood why these foods healed so well, but they decided a while ago not to question it.

Makoto turned back to Haru, who seemed to be waking up.

“Haru.” Makoto’s hand went to her cheek, slowly stroking it with her thumb.

“M-Mako-chan?” Haru murmured. Her eyes were still closed.

“Yes. I’m here, Haru.”

“We won?”

“Yes. Yes we did.”

Haru opened her eyes slowly. They were glassy, and it seemed like she was having trouble processing everything around her. Once she made eye contact with Makoto, however, she smiled tiredly.

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Haru…” Makoto teared up. She had known that Haru was going to make it as soon as the battle was over, but seeing her take such a devastating hit made her think… even for the briefest moment… that she might not ever see Haru open her eyes again.

“Hey now. It’s going to be o-ah!” Haru winced in pain as she leaned up. She had probably been trying to reach Makoto to comfort her, but instead had aggravated her wounds.

“Haru!” Makoto lunged forward. “Don’t try and move. That hit…”

Haru sighed and moved back down, resting her head on a pillow. “Right… that attack was…”

Makoto leaned down to place her forehead against Haru’s. “Haru. Don’t ever do that again.” She moved back to look into her eyes, hoping to convey how serious she was.

Makoto twitched in surprise when she felt Haru jerk her head forward to hit her own in a weak headbutt. “Mako-chan. We agreed that we’d always look out for each other.”

Makoto sighed. “I know.”

“I knew that I’d be okay. Well, relatively speaking.” She chuckled. “But if that had hit you…” Haru brought up a hand to comb it through Makoto’s hair.

Makoto closed her eyes at the calming sensation. “If it had, then it wouldn’t have hit you.” She could feel the tears welling up behind her closed eyes. The fact that Haru would risk her life to protect someone like her… who couldn’t even protect Haru in the first place, made Makoto truly feel useless. “I’m so sorry. I was…”

“Stop being so stubborn, Mako-chan!” The moment Haru’s hands stilled in Makoto’s hair, the girl opened her eyes. Haru seemed adamant, as she was now slightly tugging the strands, pulling the other girl closer. “I’m glad that I could protect you.” She leaned up to give Makoto a quick kiss on the lips. As she settled back down, her expression changed to a pained one. “You’re so important to me…” she murmured.

Makoto leaned down, missing their contact. She wrapped her arms around Haru’s shoulders, squeezing her as tightly as she dared, not wanting to hurt the other girl further. “You are too…”

The two stayed in this position for a few moments, with Haru resuming the petting of Makoto’s hair. Makoto was determined to show her girlfriend just how much she cared for her. If she couldn’t protect her in battle, at the very least, she should be able to shower her with affection.

Makoto knew that she herself was not a touchy-feely type of person. But now that she saw how quickly she could lose someone she loved, she resolved to be more upfront with her feelings, as she never knew when the opportunity for them could come to an end.

“Hey girls!” Makoto released her hold on Haru and jumped back up to her original kneeling position. Even though she’d just promised herself to be more affectionate, it was still hard to show these feelings when others were watching.

She looked up to see Yukari, Fuuka, and Rise standing there with some food. “Uh… we’ll just leave this here with Makoto-san. Eat up!” Yukari bent down to place the items next to the girl before awkwardly turning around and darting away with the others. To her embarrassment, Makoto saw the three of them whisper something to each other and giggle, glancing over at the two third-years.

“Looks like everyone was worried about us.” Haru giggled. Makoto saw that she was amused at their antics, a grin on her face.

“I suppose…” Makoto shook her head in exasperation. She grabbed one of the popcorn containers and picked out a piece, offering it to Haru. To her surprise, instead of delightfully eating it as she normally did when the two fed each other, she shook her head and pushed her hand away.

“Look, Mako-chan. I can tell that you’re still feeling remorse over what happened. I want you to know that I truly don’t regret doing what I did.” She took Makoto’s hand and gripped it tightly, causing her to drop the food onto the floor. “I love you, and I will do everything in my power to make sure that you’re safe.”

Makoto looked into Haru’s eyes and saw that she truly meant what she said. She felt her heart flutter slightly at Haru’s sincerity. “Look at me. I should be the one comforting you. Why does it always seem like it’s the other way around?” She chuckled sadly.

“Because you support me with your actions, Mako-chan, both on and off the battlefield.” Haru squeezed her hand. “I know that putting feelings into words is hard for you.” Her grip loosened. “You know… I feel that I struggle in the opposite way.”

Makoto titled her head, not understanding what she was getting at. “What do you mean?”

“Sometimes… I feel as though I’m… what’s the phrase? All talk and no action. I can soothe you with words, but you always seem to be the one to protect me when we fight. That’s why –”

Suddenly it clicked. “That’s why you jumped in to shield me,” Makoto finished for her. So Haru really thought that she didn’t support her enough in battle? That she only ever comforted Makoto with her words? That couldn’t be farther from the truth. Makoto knew that she herself could be insecure when it came to many things, but it was strange to see Haru be so worried about something that Makoto did not even see as an issue.

Haru blustered on. “I-I want you to know that I would’ve done so regardless! But yes, as embarrassing as that is to admit, I wanted to be the one to protect you with actions rather than words for once. I wanted to show you rather than tell you how much I care for you.”

Makoto chuckled, a happier tone this time. “I… I really am flattered, Haru. But you don’t have to overcompensate. You show me how much you care for me every day without needing to put yourself in danger.” She tightened her grip on Haru’s hand, whose own grip had been so loose that she was about to let go. “We just each have our own ways of showing affection.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Haru smiled. “Thank you for saying so.”

“Of course. And by the way, anyone who uses an axe and a grenade launcher to fight is always someone that I would want to have my beck. How could I possibly be in danger with an ally like that protecting me?” Makoto laughed.

“I suppose when you put it that way, it does sound rather silly for me to have been concerned.” Haru giggled.

Makoto smiled, happy to be able to get through to Haru to have her understand just how amazing she was. “Also, I love you too. Just wanted to make sure that I responded to what you said earlier.”

Haru grinned back. “Well now, it looks like we’re both feeling better.” She looked down at the popcorn. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that offer of food now.”

Makoto nodded. Picking up another piece, she placed one into Haru’s mouth before taking a piece of her own.

 --

And there we go! I figured since Makoto was the one who was injured last year, it should be Haru’s turn this year.

This situation was somewhat similar to what happened in my playthrough. Haru didn’t defend anyone (I don’t think that is an automatic mechanic in this game, or if it is, all my characters just hate each other!), but when Mr. Bear used his devastating attack, it literally one-shot everyone except Haru. I had support teleport us away, but it was pretty frightening to see my entire team except for one go down. Clearly, I wasn’t ready for that particular enemy!

The mission is a little different in my one-shot compared to what happens in the game, but I needed to change it slightly to make it more ‘Okujima-centric’. Hope it was still a good read, regardless!

Also, party members technically instantly heal once they reach the lobby in Q2, but I wanted Makoto to be able to tend to Haru, so I decided that they would still be injured. In fact, this is how it worked in Q, so it technically fits within this Q universe. I was so glad when they changed this mechanic for Q2 though, because I used up so many resources healing people in Q!

See you tomorrow!

[destiel-love-forever]

Just Shut Up & Kiss Me Already

"How about combine #14 Pretend Dating and #29 “Just shut up and kiss me already.” - Adoptdon’tshoppets) ** I added some bedsharing into this because I couldn’t help myself

Castiel has to go to yet another Thanksgiving with his parents/family who think he's not living up to his potential. He begs his best friend/roommate of eight years (who just so happens to be the man he loves.... and straight) to come with him for the weekend. The catch? Castiel wants him to pretend to be in a relationship with him to get his parents off his back....

Will Castiel survive the weekend?

Will Dean be able to continue denying his not so straight feelings towards his best friend?

READ BELOW OR ON AO3 HERE: JUST SHUT UP & KISS ME ALREADY

Just Shut Up & Kiss Me Already

When Dean finishes laughing, he wipes tears from his eyes and looks at his best friend. His smile slips when he sees that Castiel isn't happy. At all. In fact, Castiel looks devastated. 

"Wait, you're serious?" Dean asks in shock. 

Castiel's face turns bright red. "Yes. It's just… my family is a lot to handle. And they've been on me for years to find someone. It'll be an entire weekend of them making me feel like shit. I just thought it'd be easier to bring you and pretend. But you're right. That's- that would be stupid. I shouldn't have asked, Dean. I'm - I'm sorry." 

"No, no Cas, wait! I just thought you were fucking with me. We can - I mean - sure. Why not, right? It's not like we have to fuck. I don't have to pretend to like you, so it'll be easy.”

Castiel perks up, eyes going wide. "You don't have to pretend?"

"Of course not." Dean grins at him. "You're my best friend, man."

"Oh. Right. Of course. Me too - I - me too. For not having to pretend. Because of the best friend thing." Castiel has to look away from Dean, focusing instead on the plant in the corner. "We leave tomorrow then. Pack a suit."

“A suit?” Dean asks in confusion. “Isn’t it just Thanksgiving at your house?”

Castiel laughs. “No holiday is just a holiday at the Novak’s. Trust me. Bring a suit.”

"Alright." 

Dean starts to laugh and Castiel looks back at him, lifting an eyebrow in question. "What?" 

"Nothin'. Just picturing myself pretending to be gay. I'm gonna rock it. Don't worry, Cas. They'll never know I'm not into dick."

Feeling his face flush and his eyes burn, Castiel forces a fragile smile and nods once. "I know, Dean. You'll be perfect. You always are."

Dean doesn't notice that Castiel is talking about something much bigger than this. It doesn't matter, though. Castiel knew better than to fall in love with a straight man, but he did so anyway. This is his punishment. 72 hours pretending to be in a happy relationship with the man he loves… his straight best friend. 

---------

Castiel stands in front of the house, feet seemingly glued to the sidewalk. Shifting his duffel bag over his shoulder, Dean looks between his best friend and the house, finally asking, “Is this it?”

“Yup.”

“Are we expecting one of those groups of people that come out with chairs and you get to sit on it and they carry you inside? Because I’m pretty sure that’s like a Jewish thing, and you aren’t Jewish.”

The smile Castiel gives him is full of anxiety, nowhere near what it usually is. Dean has an uncanny talent at making Castiel Novak smile or laugh in the worst of situations, but it’s not working. Shit. It’s not working. How does he help, then? Other than his humor? Dean’s sarcasm and jokes are supposed to work. They’re what he hides behind. 

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Dean says in a soft - hopefully comforting - voice, “Everything will be alright, Cas. You said they’re not that bad, right?”

“Right. Just extremely judgemental, with high expectations that set you up to fail, while all skilled at the art of passive aggressiveness.” Castiel finally looks Dean in the eyes, this time his smile so sad it breaks Dean’s heart. “It will be alright. I know. Just - I’m just trying to get the energy.”

“Take your time.”

Just as Dean is saying this, the front door is opening and a woman in a pristine form-fitting white dress and black heels calls, “Whatever do you think you’re doing out here, Castiel? The neighbors probably think you’ve gone insane. Get inside! It’s freezing.”

Releasing a deep sigh, Castiel steps forward. “Happy Thanksgiving,” he mumbles to himself. He startles when Dean slips his hand in his, big blue eyes looking up at him in shock. Then he must remember that they’re in a fake relationship because he squeezes back in thanks and smiles a genuine smile. The first one since they arrived. 

Alright, if humor won’t work, then Dean will do this. He’ll be the perfect boyfriend. Dean will touch Castiel constantly, in one way or another, and never leave his side. 

--------

“So, Dean. You and Castiel have been friends for quite a while, right?” Mrs. Novak says with a clearly fake smile, eyes narrowed in on him. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Dean smiles at Castiel, reaching beneath the table and touching his knee. Castiel doesn’t understand why he keeps doing that. Touching him. Always fucking touching him. Can’t he tell he sets Castiel’s body on fire every time his fingertips brush him? “Roommates freshman year. I think I met you when he moved into the dorm, ma’am.”

“Ah. Yes.” She smirks as she reaches for her glass of wine. “The boy with the posters.”

If Dean catches onto that being an insult, he doesn’t show it. Before he can respond to Castiel’s mom, though, Castiel’s father steps in. “What was it that you were majoring in again, Mr. Winchester? Do you work?”

Castiel wants to roll his eyes but refrains. 

“Biomedical Engineering, sir,” Dean answers. “I am currently heading a team to work on artificial organ development.”

“Impressive. It’s always good when someone gets a practically degree,” Castiel’s father says casually. 

“Yes,” his mother agrees. “A degree with an actual career. You’re very smart, Dean. Lucifer and Michael are both doctors. Have you spoken to them?” she asks, gesturing to the two brothers to Dean’s left. 

Lucifer looks at Dean with a judgemental eye scan. “We’ll have to discuss the work you’re doing over some scotch and cigars after dessert.”

One look at Dean, and Castiel knows he wants so badly to tell Lucifer he’s more of a beer and cigarettes kind of guy, but Dean says nothing. He just gives Lucifer a curt nod and takes a drink of his wine that Castiel knows he hates, because Dean winces after every sip.

“And Anna,” his mother adds, gesturing to Castiel’s only sister. “She’s in law school. And Gabriel is pursuing a phD.”

Dean squeezes Castiel’s knee without looking at him. “Castiel is working on his second novel. Has he told you about it?”

“Mmm,” Castiel’s mother says, flicking her eyes at her son in disgust. “Yes. Well. Brave of him, after the first one.”

“The first one did well,” Dean defends.

“Yes. You’re right, Dean. For a man just starting out, I suppose it did fine.”

“Actually-” Dean starts, but Castiel jumps in before his best friend of eight years throws himself on the train tracks to defend him. “Mother, the meal was lovely.”

His mother gives him a sickly sweet smile. “Yes, well, it’s all Greta could do with all of her preparations for Thanksgiving tomorrow.”

“Castiel,” Mr. Novak says abruptly. “Have you thought anymore about how you’ll be using your trust fund?”

“I already told you, father,” Castiel nearly growls. “I’m donating it.”

“Of course. Yes. Taking care of those who are too lazy to take care of themselves.” His father scoffs. “My liberal son. Pride and joy.”

Gabriel groans from the other side of the table where Castiel has been watching him sneak bites of the dessert while everyone was too distracted being assholes with fake smiles. “Politics is where I draw the line. Can we all just stop talking about jobs and views and money? Let’s have dessert. Doesn’t it look delicious?”

Everyone, even Castiel’s parents, smiles fondly at Gabriel. The middle child who has no pressure on him for some reason Castiel’s never understood. Gabriel changed majors like outfits. Slept around. Took two extra years to graduate. Got arrested in Mexico once and needed their father to help get him back here and free of any charges. His phD? It’s in fucking philosophy. 

Castiel sinks back in his chair and takes a deep breath as the dessert begins to get dished out. It’s then that he realizes that Dean still has his hand on Castiel’s leg, skimming his thumb back and forth along his jeans. Tentatively, Castiel places his hand over Dean’s. Their fingers slot together and Castiel hasn't felt so grounded, so safe, in a long time. 

--------

 "You can have the bed," Castiel says softly, looking completely drained. "I'll sleep on the floor." 

Dean rolls his eyes as he starts to unbuckle his belt. "Don't be ridiculous. You'll sleep with me."

Castiel's eyes track Dean's every move, something he hasn't done in years. Dean knows Castiel always found him attractive, but Castiel stopped looking at Dean like he is now once he found out Dean's straight. Then they became best friends. He barely looks at Dean at all anymore, always paying attention to the world instead. 

Before, it had made Dean uncomfortable. He would always turn his back. Undress quickly. Jump under the covers.

Not anymore. 

Dean kind of likes it. He refuses to analyze why. 

Instead, he focuses on taking his time. Stepping out of his jeans and slowly reaching behind his head to grab his shirt, Dean looks at Castiel again. Their eyes meet. Castiel's hands are paused in the middle of unbuttoning his cardigan, his smooth pale chest and stomach exposed to Dean's gaze. Dean has been dragging him to the gym to keep him from sitting at home too much. He didn't do it with the intention of making Castiel look any better, because Castiel always looks good - not like… in a gay way - but Dean finds himself appreciating the view now. 

Why does he feel like this looking at Castiel? Sure, he's had these urges before. Ever since he met him even. But they were always explainable. Like when Dean walked in on Castiel watching porn and jacking off, and Dean had to force himself to leave instead of offering help - something completely justified because porn makes anyone horny, right? So of course he hesitated. Porn is distracting. Hot. Other times, the pull comes when they're drunk - clearly Dean's inhibitions are lowered and his mind isn't thinking clearly. There was the one time, when Castiel got this douchebag boyfriend and Dean found him screaming in Castiel's face one night, Dean beat the shit out of him and then looked at Castiel whose face was covered in tears and told him he deserved better - but that was just Dean being protective of his best friend. Sometimes it's really late at night, when Dean can't sleep and Castiel keeps him company - but that's because of Dean's exhaustion, that's all. Sometimes it-

Dean looks away from Castiel and hurries to pull his shirt over his head, hiding his face as the realization hits him. He feels like this too often. All the fucking time. What does that mean? Why does he want to slam Castiel against the wall and fuck him right now? Why does he want to lay him down on that bed and give him comforting kisses? 

---------

If Castiel didn't know better, he'd think Dean was checking him out. Of course, after 8 years, he knows better. Dean's straight. Even if Castiel sometimes feels like Dean wants him, like when he walked in on Castiel masturbating that one time and stared in awe as he licked his lips, or when they go out to the bars or parties and they get a little too drunk and Dean gets a little too close, or when Castiel was dating Jason and Dean beat him up for yelling at Castiel and calling him names, and Dean wiped the tears from Castiel's face as he whispered softly about Castiel deserving better, or when Castiel keeps Dean company if Dean has his nightmares and they cuddle without calling it cuddling on the couch, but Castiel knows those times mean nothing. Just wishful thinking, same as right now. 

Castiel climbs into the bed quickly, pulling the covers up to hide his body. He's suddenly regretting his habit of sleeping in boxers. If he tried to wear pjs, Dean would call him out, because Dean knows Castiel can't stand sleeping with clothes on. The downfall of living with the man for 8 years now. Dean knows everything. Except, hopefully, the fact that Castiel is in love with him.

Dean climbs in beside Castiel and if Castiel didn't know better - which, once again, he does - he'd think Dean was closer to him than he needed to be on the big bed. Their bare shoulders press close together and Castiel's body erupts in goosebumps. 

"So, your family," Dean starts.

"Yeah."

"Gabe's cool."

Castiel laughs softly, nodding. "He is."

"I had a beer with him out on the porch while you went off with Anna. From the sound of it, you're more successful and put together than he is." 

"I've never really understood it, but for some reason that doesn't matter to anyone."

"Well, it should." Dean scoffs. "And your book. How can they say that's not good? It was a bestseller, and it was brilliant. Your writing, Cas, it - it's so fucking good. And I'm not saying that out of obligation."

Feeling his face heat up, Castiel looks away from Dean and toward the wall. "I doubt any of them have read it, besides Gabe."

This makes Dean adjust in the bed. Out of curiosity, Castiel looks back at him. He shouldn't have. Dean is up on an elbow, staring down at him with those beautiful green eyes wide. "Seriously? Fuck. I hate them. Family doesn't do this. Doesn't treat you like this."

"It's okay, Dean."

"It's not!"

"Dean." Castiel gently pulls Dean until he's lying down again. They both turn on their sides so they can look at each other in the dim lamp light. "It doesn't matter. I've got my own family. People I can count on and trust. People who love me for me and cheer me on even in the worst of times. Charlie. Chuck. Balthazar. Sam." He pauses, biting his bottom lip, then whispers, "You."

This seems to make Dean feel better because his body relaxes. "Then why did we come instead of going to friendsgiving with everyone?" 

"Because I want Christmas with you guys, and my family would fucking explode if I skipped both."

Dean sighs. Castiel can tell he's frustrated, but Dean also understands. He has his own set of family issues. 

"We'll get through this, Cas. Together. I promise."

"Yeah," Castiel whispers, noticing that Dean just settled his hand on Castiel's hip. His thumb starts doing the stroking thing again. He wants to ask Dean why he's touching him when no one is around to see the show, but he's afraid it would make him stop. When Castiel says, "Together," as a confirmation, his voice is breathy and embarrassing. 

He hopes Dean doesn’t notice. 

---------

Dean wakes up from one of his constant nightmares. He slips out of the bed, not wanting to wake Castiel, and tugs on a pair of sweats. The Novak house is ridiculously huge but he eventually finds his way to the kitchen. Hopefully after a glass of water and maybe a sneak outside for some fresh air, he’ll be able to fall asleep again. It’s wishful thinking. The only way Dean ever falls back asleep after his nightmares is if Castiel talks to him. He always does this thing where he plays with Dean’s hair, speaking in this incredibly smooth voice that sends these waves of calm over Dean. He never even says anything important. Just rambles about things like plot arcs or character development or some article he read about cats. 

The memories make Dean smile, but then an overwhelming surge of panic floods him like it did earlier. Something is happening between him and Castiel. Something that Dean thinks has been happening for years. 

Something Dean can't keep ignoring. 

Just as Dean is taking his water and heading toward the sliding door that leads to the deck out back, he catches movement to his right. He turns his head and comes face to face with Gabriel, Castiel's brother. The man looks quite somber compared to his earlier goofiness. In fact, he might even look angry. 

"Can't sleep?" Gabriel grunts, giving Dean a look Dean has no idea how he earned. 

"Uh. No. Never really can." Dean awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. "You?"

"I sleep just fine." Gabriel looks at the doors Dean was obviously about to open. "Mind if I join you?"

Dean wants to say yes because Gabriel looks upset and he's kind of afraid to find out why, but instead he nods and leads the way. The second the doors are closed behind them, Gabriel is stalking toward Dean. 

"Listen up, Winchester. If you're playing a fucking game with him, or if you're just trying out the whole gay thing for funsies, I'll fucking destroy you. He can lie all he wants to everyone else about you two being together for months now and all that bullshit, but he talks to me all the time. I know the real story. And I think you're sick for fucking with his heart like this."

Opening and closing his mouth in shock, Dean manages to sputter out, "What? What story?"

"I know you two are faking Dean. I'm the one that gave him the fucking idea. Except he wasn't supposed to ask you, but apparentally my brother is a masochist." Before Dean can ask him to elaborate, Gabriel continues his rant. "But I saw you with him today. The looks you keep giving him. The touching even when no one is around. That stupid charming smile. He's loved you for 8 years now, and no I don't feel bad about telling you that because it's not like it was a secret, right Dean? You've known. Guys like you always know."

Dean's throat starts to close and his hands shake. This is what he came out here to think about, but he didn't plan to get it shoved down his fucking throat. He can't breathe. 

Gabriel fills the open silence. He's apparentally quite good at that. "Just let the poor guy go if you don't want him, Dean. Stop this."

"I'm not doing anything," Dean finally says, his voice shaky and weak. 

"Come on buddy. Don't pretend you're stupid. You're not."

"I don't-" Dean stops himself. He hangs his head and closes his eyes. "I don't know what to do. What I want. I - I'm not gay."

Gabriel scoffs. "Who the fuck cares? That's a label. Nothing more."

When Dean looks up at him, feeling a confused but desperate hope swelling in his chest, Gabriel rolls his eyes. "Do you love my brother?"

"Yes." It's not even a question. 

"Do you find him attractive?"

"I - yeah."

"Not in the 'oh yeah I'll admit that man is good looking' way but in the 'holy shit he's so fucking hot and beautiful and I need to kiss him' way."

Blushing, Dean looks out at the darkness that should be the yard. Part of him wants to jump into it and let it swallow him whole. The other wants to finally step into the light and tell the fucking truth. To Gabe. To Castiel. To himself. 

"Yeah," he whispers to the darkness. 

"Are you in love with him?" 

Dean closes his eyes. Is he? He's never been before. Always thought he was one of those people that can't. It's supposed to be all crazy butterflies, right? Adrenaline. Intoxicated feelings as you kiss and fuck. Screaming matches in fits of passion. Getting drunk off smiles. Unable to breathe without each other. A rollercoaster. Isn't that what people are always comparing it to?

When Dean thinks of Castiel, he doesn't think of chaos or instability. Dean thinks of soft rain on the roof as they lay together on the couch in the middle of the night. He thinks of safety. Peace. Warmth. Calm. When Dean thinks of Castiel, he thinks of home. 

If it's up to Dean, he thinks that's what love should be like. The lighthouse in the storm. 

"I have to tell him," Dean tells Gabriel. 

"No," Gabriel says quietly. 

It's so unexpected that Dean flinches. "What?"

"Tell him when you get home, Dean."

"Why?"

Gabriel chuckles, but it's dry. "For one? You need to think this over, because I'm serious about the killing you thing. You better fucking be sure before talking to him. And second? Do you really want to do that here? His least favorite place in the damn world? Where you can't, ya know, celebrate? Hell, can't even have a deep conversation about it?"

Dean grits his teeth. Gabriel is right. 

But he's already waited 8 fucking years. 

Dean's not sure he will survive another 24 hours.

-------

Castiel stabs another piece of turkey, causing Dean to jump for the third time beside him. He avoids what he knows is a concerned look from his best friend by focusing on his plate instead. 

"-just saying," his mother continues, as if she can't see Castiel is clearly upset. "The least you could do is be a father. That's useful. What do you do all day? Sit around and read books? Write? Those are hobbies. At least be a stay at home father if you're so set on not having a real career." 

"When I grow a womb," Castiel growls, emphasizing the last syllable with another stabbed piece of turkey. "I'll let you know, mother."

"Well, you could adopt. Or do a surrogate. You have the money, thanks to us of course." His mother turns her fake smile onto Dean. "Do you want children, Dean?" 

Castiel closes his eyes as he feels Dean tense up beside him. For the first time all weekend, Castiel touches Dean first, pushing his crush aside and being a good friend by placing a hand on his thigh. He squeezes once. A silent apology. Dean's hand rests over his, holding him there. 

For a moment, Castiel is back in their apartment, senior year of college. Dean wasted beyond belief, crying with his head in Castiel's lap. Admitting he can't ever be a father. Believing he has too much of John Winchester in his blood to even risk it.

"No, ma'am. I don't think it's in the cards for me," Dean says in a strangled voice. 

"Why not?"

"That's personal, mother," Castiel says through gritted teeth. 

His mother just shrugs. "I just want to make sure it's not a financial thing. You could always keep your trust fund, you know. Use it to make Dean happy."

"God dammit, mother!" Castiel bursts, his fork clattering to the table. He can feel his eyes burning and his throat clogging, so he hurries to choke out what he wants to say before he falls apart. "Dean's going to be happy, okay? Wanna know why? He's not with me. It's all a lie. So don't feel bad for Dean, the poor biomedical engineer who is stuck with your sorry excuse of a son, because he's not. He's free to be with some ambitious blonde bimbo for all I care!"

As he shoves away from the table and storms off, Castiel hears his father barking at him to not speak to his mother like that and come back and apologize. Castiel just scoffs. He tries to slam the door of his bedroom, planning to immediately pack his and Dean's shit so they can go, but something stops the door and the satisfying slam never comes. He turns and finds Dean quietly closing the door instead.

He looks gorgeous in his suit. Castiel has had to keep himself from telling him that all night. Now that he's drunk and clearly not thinking straight, he's worried it might pour out if he opens his mouth, so he keeps it firmly sealed. 

"Thank you," Dean begins, still looking at the door. "You didn't have to do that. I could have handled it." 

Castiel calculates every word, every syllable, before cautiously parting his lips. "You shouldn't have to handle it, Dean. I'm sorry for even making you do this in the first place." 

"Cas-"

"Can we just go?" 

"Yes. Of course." Without another word, Dean begins to pack alongside him. They move together in a comfortable silence that, under the circumstances, shouldn't be able to even exist. That's something he always loved about Dean. His willingness to just be. It's hard to find people like that. People who can settle the storm inside your soul and make it so you can breathe. 

No one tries to stop them. Castiel gets a wink from Gabriel when they pass by with their bags, and he gives him a nod back. They'll see each other in a week or two, Castiel is sure. They'll probably talk on the phone tomorrow. But Castiel won't out Gabriel to his parents. Not when Castiel just raised his status in the family from the black sheep the public enemy number one.

"Where to?" Dean asks when he slides behind the wheel. 

Castiel looks out the window, hoping to hide that he's crying. "Home."

--------

They don't get home until two in the morning. Dean feels dead on his feet, especially since he didn't sleep the night before, but Castiel is more important. The man is a breath away from breaking down. Dean needs to stop him. 

"Bottle of wine and popcorn," Dean instructs when they drop their bags on the floor beside the front door. "I'll turn on Queer Eye."

Castiel smiles softly. "It's late, Dean. You're tired."

"Wait a minute. Mark the calendar. Castiel Novak just turned down an opportunity to watch Queer Eye!" 

"I hate you." Castiel tries to glare at him but it's a pathetic attempt. He ends up dramatically sighing and rolling his eyes. "Fiiiine. One episode. Grab the big blanket from my room, too. It's cold in here."

Five minutes later, they're pressed close together in the middle of the couch - even though there's plenty of room on each side of them - covered in Castiel's huge purple fuzzy blanket, eating popcorn and drinking Moscato. 

Halfway through the episode, just as Antoni is about to teach what sounds like a delicious dessert, Dean pauses it. He can't wait any longer. 

Castiel looks over at him in confusion, and something on Dean's face must give him away because Castiel's body tenses. "What's wrong?"

"I need to talk to you." Dean clears his throat, unsure of where to even start. "I've been thinking about this for longer than I'd like to admit, but I don't know. Just - promise no matter what, we stay friends, okay? I just have to get it off my chest and then we can move on if that's what you want to do."

Instead of looking confused or curious like Dean expected, Castiel looks terrified. His hands tighten around the blanket until his knuckles turn white. "Dean, I'm sorry. I never-"

"No. Wait. Just let me - I need to say it, Cas. Please?"

"Yeah, okay," Castiel whispers, looking ready to cry. "Go ahead."

"I never told you this, but you were the first openly gay person I ever met. In a town like mine growing up, no one would dare come out. So, when we met and we started living together, I was - I dunno. I was curious, I guess? I dunno. It felt so wrong I guess. Not wrong just - shit, this isn't going like I want it to." Dean rakes a hand through his hair. "You were just this thing that everyone told me growing up was bad and to stay away from, but I just couldn't, and not because you were my roommate but because you were like this forbidden fruit. So the first time I - the first time I felt anything, toward you I mean, I thought it was that. Just the allure of the mystery. Fascination."

Castiel shakes his head. "I don't-"

"Let me finish. Please. Just - let me explain."

"Okay."

Dean launches to his feet and begins to pace. "Then we became best friends, and the pull I felt was stronger. But it wasn't sexual. I didn't want to fuck you. I just wanted - fuck, I don't know. I wanted you safe. Happy. I wanted to be the one you came to on the best and the worst days. I told myself it was because we were getting to be like brothers. And whenever it felt like more than that, I rationalized it away. Reasoned with myself. Convinced myself." 

Hoping to gauge how this mess is going so far, Dean pauses, taking in Castiel's features. The man is flushed and slightly trembling, but his brows are raised and his eyes are wide with what is unmistakably hope. 

Please let it be the right kind of hope. 

"I won't go through 8 years, Cas. It would take days, if I'm being honest, because once I admitted it to myself I realized I've been lying for so fucking long. Since the beginning."

"The beginning of what? Lying about what?" Castiel asks, his voice vibrating lower than usual. 

"The beginning of us. And lying to myself about it. About what was really going on. What I was feeling. What I wanted."

"Dean, I don't-"

"I'm in love with you, Cas," Dean blurts, unable to choke it down any longer. Then everything - 8 years worth of things - comes pouring out. "I love the way you say you hate my music but secretly sing along under your breath. I love your hair in the mornings, and your sleepy smile. Your stupid ugly socks. Your books all over the place, usually still open like you just got up mid sentence and never came back. I love that you get into fights with the characters you write. I love that, without fail, you end up reading the entire Harry Potter series every fall, because the pumpkins remind you of that scene in book one, and according to you you can't just read book one and then 'abandon' the characters like that. I love that you will literally throw down and fight anyone who doesn't agree that Faulkner is a brilliant writer. I love that you're always losing or breaking your glasses. What are you on now, since we met, huh? Pair 30? 31?"

"33," Castiel breathes. 

"Exactly." Dean grins. "I love that. I love - I love all of it. I love you. I love-"

"Dean."

Dean's breath catches. Oh no. He's going to stop Dean. Castiel is going to tell him he doesn't feel the same way. 

Gathering himself, Dean meets those familiar blue eyes and whispers, "Yeah?" 

"Just shut up and kiss me already."

[ancient-artificer]

Bounties, Booze, Etc.

A Cowboy Bebop AU. Found on FF.net and Ao3

NEW* Fic

After a devastating break-up, Spike turns to old medicines to remedy the hurt. Concerned for her good friend's overall health, Faye strikes up a deal: if she can set Spike up with a good woman within a month's time, he must give up drinking and live a healthier life, for all their sakes. Leave it to a woman to beat around the bush...

Eventual Spike x Faye. Plot-driven.

ONE - Hangovers, Milkshakes, etc.

The majority of the household wasn't too thrilled with his decision-making skills of late.

Spike's wobbly hiccuping, coming in too late and hastily leaving too early was all beginning to cause for concern; the hole-in-the-wall pub inhabitants were ready to create for him a permanent place barside, a stock brand with his name on it if they didn't soon do something about his drinking.

Jet claimed that was just how he functioned and to let him be, the old "he'll fix himself, he always does" routine. Faye had always blatantly called him emotionally constipated, for lack of better terms, but even from her opinionated viewpoint, it wasn't that simple this time around.

It wasn't that Spike couldn't let himself feel emotions.

He felt them too much, too strongly.

It had been two weeks since Julia left. No heads up and no word since. No one understood what she had been thinking or why in the least she had not decided to tell anyone her plans. The blond bombshell just up and disappeared.

And left Spike a goddamned messed, barely able to pick up the pieces in her wake.

"What a bitch," Faye spat. She stared at the lifeless form lying on the couch and crossed her arms over her voluptuous breasts.

In front of their computer searching for the next easy, potential payload, Jet hummed, his fingers stroking his beard in thought. One of his eyebrows rose as he glanced up to her. "Way to kick a man while he's down," he monotoned.

Faye turned towards him. "No, not Spike, that damn bimbo he was head over heels for."

"Yea, well, it happens."

She snorted. "Which one, falling in love with a trash can or having it dump you?"

Jet acted as if he wasn't paying attention, but his mouth twitched up in a small smirk. "Like I said."

"I guess…" Her voice trailed off.

Her gaze returned to the dingy couch with the broken man sprawled across it. It softened as she took in his expressionless, slumbering face. "It must really suck."

"Mhm." His eyes darted back and forth on the screen as he read a profile from the bounty office site.

Faye sympathized with the man. Seeing him asleep, finally buried under consciousness after hours of fighting with himself made her glad she had never fallen in love. Of course, there was the like button, the pesky infatuation that came and went as quickly as the vast amounts of alcohol Spike had no doubt thrown back, and that was only a surface level sentiment.

What Spike tried to let go of was deeper. Scarring.

His sleeping form seemed peaceful, though she supposed it would turn one-eighty once he awoke. He had stumbled in around four-thirty that morning, sloshed beyond all hope, incoherently blabbering on. It was a wonder he had made it back to the house in one piece. Spike had easily passed out with his boots still on his feet.

She stepped to the couch and pulled the folded blanket from the recliner to spread over him. He reeked of hard booze.

"What are we gonna do with you?" She murmured to herself, giving her head a shake.

"Mm… er, do what now?"

Spike's eyes were still closed as he stirred and tried to lift his head and speak. The low, cigarette and whiskey-burned groan that escaped between his dehydrated lips sounded painful.

"You look like you were hit by a train." She was ever so blunt.

What resembled a short-lived laugh tumbled out from him, ending in a cough. He winced. "You should feel it," he mumbled.

Faye rolled her eyes and left to fetch him a bottle of water.

His liver and kidneys would be working overtime for a while until his situation leveled out, those brave, little soldiers. These days she felt more like the caretaker of a twenty-seven-year-old baby than a hard-earning, semi-successful bounty hunter.

"I think I'd rather feel the emotional ass-whooping than your kind of hangovers. It'd pass faster," she replied loudly, handing him the bottle with an added sarcastic, "Your drink, sir."

Spike winced hard as he sat up. "Not so loud, fuck…" he croaked. "Trying to kill me."

One hand took the water, the heel of the other rubbed into his forehead, seeking relief from the growing ache. The pounding behind his eyes rocked his balance and sensitivity. A queasiness hit his stomach before he brought the drink to his mouth.

He heaved into the previously placed bucket below him.

"Serves you right," Faye muttered. She walked away before she heard anything else that would haunt her later.

She had never been fond of Julia. From the moment that woman stepped foot inside their abode she could tell they were in for some bad news. Spike was only now unwinding himself from around her slender fingers.

However, Faye was fond of Spike and hoped he would learn from this rather unfortunate event and the things that spurred it. She just didn't approve of his methods. It wasn't fun to tease him when he was hurting himself. If he would let her help.

"Just give it a few more hours. His wallowing's almost over," Jet announced. He stood up from the desk and stretched, his thick arms reached above his head.

Reaching into his pocket, he tossed Faye a pack of smokes as she strolled by. "Give one to pathetic over there and then suit up. We've got a job."

"Uhh, okay, but isn't he a little useless right now?"

From the couch beside her, Spike gave a rough groan and then snarled, "Cowboy up or sit in the fuckin' truck."

Jet only smiled.

"You can't possibly know how this feels," Spike monotoned, briefly closing his eyes. He plodded after the others down the sidewalk towards the pub, which happened to be the location of their next hit.

It was a first. Strolling that day into the same bar he'd gotten plastered in the night before, still hungover as hell. The dark circles under his eyes had deepened in their shade of bluish-purple on the way over.

"Psht, yea, you're right, I can't. 'Cause I'm not a drunk loser," Faye replied in kind. She threw a glance his way.

"You're both getting on my nerves. Focus," Jet grumbled under his breath. "Faye, you walk in first. Spike and I will be in after you've had a look around."

They gave it a good thirty seconds.

Nausea hit Spike as soon as he smelled the alcohol.

The drink hall harbored few patrons in the early evening. It would later fill up to near capacity as the hours wore on. Smoke and other various and unique scents floated through the stale air. The place could have used a strong breeze.

As if not affiliated with the other two, Spike beelined it for the bartop and sank onto one of the many stools. His head hit the cool, shellacked wooden surface and he went limp. All but useless.

Mentally patting herself and feeling the weight of gunmetal beneath the ridiculous outfit, Faye easily slipped into a facade. The perfect trap laid before a hungry smuggler.

Remember he'll be armed, Jet's voice said to her through the earpiece connecting the three bounty hunters. Name's Merle. His crew smuggles drugs and other goods into the country through the underground. Not unlike them to enjoy the spoils.

He adjusted his sunglasses to sit further up on his nose and peered at their target as he sat down two stools from Spike's seemingly knocked out form. He raised his hand at the only bartender, who stood directly in front of him, looking oddly at him as he wiped down the bartop.

"Uh, what can I do for ya, sir?"

Jet nodded. "Iced tea, please."

"Is that all?"

Spike let loose a series of quiet snores. A drop of drool slid from the corner of his mouth.

"And a protein shake. If you've got them," Jet said.

The bartender shook his head. He dropped the wet rag into a sani-bucket. "Don't got those. But there's ingredients for a milkshake?"

Jet glanced at Spike, then nodded to the employee.

Faye said nothing as she roamed about the great hall, her gaze hitting everything that could be used as a weapon if the need arose, all of the exits should they have underestimated their target.

If Merle was easy to catch, he would already be in police custody. The profile stated he'd been on the run for four years, successfully evading cuffs and a comfy cell. Within that time, due to the extremely toxic purity of the illegal synthetic drugs he often smuggled and sold, many innocent lives were needlessly lost. The bounty on his head paid a hefty price, dead or alive.

But preferably alive to watch his freedom turn to cash.

Large, green eyes gave a sultry flash at the giant of a man sitting in the corner intent on the brown bottle in between his fingers.

His expression never faltered. His grip on the bottle loosened a bit when Faye swayed near and laid a hand on the only other chair present at his table. She made a point to throw her shoulders back and jut out her ample breasts barely covered in the low cut of her dress.

"May I join you?" She purred.

He stared at her. First at the twin fun sacks staring back at eye level, then up at her expectant, smiling expression. "I'm meeting someone," he simply stated, his voice gruff.

She gently pressed. "I could be that someone… if you have time," she said, the words rolling off her tongue like a satin sheet.

"Time for you to fuck off," he said, shifting in the chair.

Faye grinned.

He played hard.

She opened her mouth to respond in the same smartass, sarcastic tone when the establishment's glass door swung open once again. Her eyes darted to it.

In strode three buff, ruffian-looking men, one right after the other. The didn't try to hide their full sidearm holsters conspicuously hanging from their clothing or the fact they all knew the dark man in the back. They sneered when they saw Faye.

"Looks like Boss has a customer, heheh," one of them chuckled. With one arm in a fluid motion, he snagged a chair from another nearby table and unceremoniously sank onto it.

The second did the same, but with the chair Faye had her hand on. "A lady friend," he commented.

The remaining man still standing peered closely at her, leaning down so he could breathe on her cheek as he inspected her.

Straightening her back, Faye loosened the hold she subconsciously had on her features. She tried not to tense. She had to act like a whore, not be one. All she had to focus on was getting them happy and cooperative, Jet -and hopefully Spike- would do the rest, with her lending a helping hand should the need arise. The moment they caught wind of her unwillingness to indulge in their scumbag needs and desires, she would be outed as a cop or worse -what she really was- and the bounty-op would be eighty-sixed.

Jet's voice was low and steady in the earpiece. "Hm. This might've turned into a four man warrant..."

The man with his face next to hers smelled like tobacco and grease. A throaty hum of approval thrummed in his chest. He turned to the man who had first occupied the table. "This yours?"

Merle took a swig of his drink. He said nothing, only his dark eyes moved to inspect Faye once again, sizing her up, himself unsure of the answer.

She shifted her weight, making sure her breasts jiggled a bit to keep their attention. Her fingers pushed some of her violet hair behind her ears, her gaze quickly shifting from all four with a mysterious grin sliding up on her red lips. "Well. How about I buy rounds for you. And you can buy for me… and then we see where we stand?"

The three disgusting bastards were instantly hooked, line and all, at her innuendo. They automatically turned to each other and then to Merle, who had yet to give the okay for the extra person to accompany them for the evening.

Jet kept his head down, seemingly staring at the bartop under the dark of his glasses and intently listened in on her conversation. He breathed from his seat in surprise at Faye's words. "Geezus, you don't have to go all out," he said quietly.

At the same moment, the bartender gave him a quizzical gaze, one eyebrow raised as he set the glass full of iced tea down in front of him. "Um. Uh, w-would you also like ah, a lemon wedge? Or two?" He stuttered in his confusion.

A choked sound akin to holding back a burst of laughter came from Spike. He wheezed, his lips turning up at the corners before going back to his expressionless, slumber-like state.

The bartender reappeared with a handful of lemon slices and a milkshake in the tallest glass he could find. He set the tiny fruit bowl and the shake next to Jet.

Jet slid the drink to Spike.

"Finally…" Spike uttered. He unfurled his limbs from his lap and inched the straw to his mouth and sucked down a large mouthful. He frowned. "Hmm, it's missing something… what's it missing?"

"Sour wedge?" Jet sarcastically offered. He dropped a small piece of lemon into his tea without looking at him.

Merle straightened his back at Faye's suggestion.

"You're pretty. Too pretty for a dump like this shithole," the bossman grunted. His eyes bore a hole through her dark red dress. He spat, "How do I know you're not a cop?"

Faye blinked. "I'm not," she replied as a confused question.

She didn't look like one, that was for sure. But they couldn't be too careful these days. Highly sought after criminals could not let their guards down, especially around a woman, no matter how pretty. They were sly. They were just as capable of manipulation as men.

Merle snapped his fingers and pointed. "Vic. Search her."

"Heh. With pleasure."

Faye swallowed.

Through the earpiece, Jet heard the demand. She had a Glock and a pair of cuffs strapped to the inside of her leg. If they found those, she was as good as dead where she stood.

"Ahh. I see." Spike hailed the bartender. With a raspy voice and a fake smile, he asked, "Do you have any eggs?"

"Eggs?"

"Yea. Eggs. You know. Chickens shit them out. Can I have one?"

The perpetually perplexed employee headed for the back with his strange request, oblivious to the growing tension in the place.

"What are you doing, Faye needs us. Now," Jet said. He was already turning in the stool to free the handgun at his side.

"Relax. Everything's fine." The hungover bounty hunter lazily sipped at the whipped cream on top of the milkshake, seemingly uninterested in the fate of his female friend. Or any of their fates, for that matter.

The employee came back and handed him a white egg.

Jet slid from his stool and took a long step in the smugglers' direction, in his hand a grey and silver Walther P99.

Faye backed away from the table as two of them approached her. A quick glance to the bar area at Jet and she reached down under the hem of the dress. One hand made a fist, the other gripped the black, fully loaded Glock.

She landed a swift uppercut into the soft underside of the ruffian's jaw and pistol-whipped the back of his head with the butt of her gun. He landed on the ground a shove. She shook her hand in the air and cringed.

Jet fired the Walther at the other man standing between Faye and the table, the explosion of contained gunpowder slicing through the previous quiet. As soon as the man fell to the floor with a shout, he shifted his aim toward the two still seated.

Distance offense strategy was now useless; Merle and his thug friend were already up and closing the space that separated them.

Merle rushed Jet. He knocked into him before he could bring his pistol around to aim. The Walther flew from his hand and a fist connected into the side of his face.

Throwing a glance towards Jet, Faye knew she wasn't equipped to fight like him or Spike. She wasn't trained in hand to hand, but in the close quarters of the small pub, the Glock was still her only defense. She didn't want to flat out kill them, they wouldn't get their money if the smugglers were dead.

"Spike! You idiot!" She called in frustration.

Hunched over his drink, Spike concentrated on cracking the missing ingredient into his shake. He was terrible at cooking anything, having relied heavily on Jet for sustenance for most of his adult life. He winced from the gunshot, which only added to the ache behind his tired eyes. Behind him, all hell broke loose, the sounds of struggles and gunfire ringing in the stale air.

Jet blocked another fist aimed for his gut and connected his own to Merle's temple in return. The smuggler stumbled backward. Jet shoved him hard in the chest and the muscled man toppled over the table and his unfinished beer.

"Faye!" Jet shouted in warning.

The woman turned at his voice, seeing one of the thugs ball his fist and advance to pummel her. She ducked and threw her shoulder into his gut, using the Glock's barrel to assist her in tagging him in the process.

He was out of the fight, down for the count, dry heaving with his hands on his junk.

The man she had earlier pistol-whipped rose and ran at her, the bloodlust apparent in his angry eyes. She promptly ducked again and stuck out her leg, which he ran right into. He was sent stumbling into the bar and smacked right into Spike.

The still unbroken egg slipped out of his hand to bust on the floor.

"The fuck," Spike barked. Anger boiled inside his chest.

The pub's door flung open and four more similarly dressed men ran in, all familiar with Merle and the two men sprawled on the floor. They looked around at the fray, briefly orienting themselves with the situation. It took only seconds, but Jet and Faye knew they couldn't hold off the newcomers.

"My egg! I needed that," Spike seethed. "Everything's so not fine!"

He jumped and shoved the stool away from the counter, standing up and tugging out his Jericho 941 from its holster. He snarled, racking the pistol and without aiming, started firing off round after round directly at the smugglers who had just entered the building.

They scattered to hide behind anything they could find, knocking tables on their sides to use as makeshift shields as he channeled his frustrations into the gunmetal.

Spike turned to the downed man who had run into him. He smashed the man's bloody face into the egg mess with his boot. "That's for ruining my milkshake," he hissed.

Behind him, Jet's left fist smacked into Merle's jaw, his torso bending in half at the waist with the momentous effort. He breathed out, struggling to catch his breath with the strain.

The drug smuggler bounded into the back wall. His head shot side to side, looking for a way out while Jet was preoccupied with the small group of his followers that had come in to join them.

When his attention returned to their main target, Merle was nowhere to be seen. Their intended target escaped.

Faye dove for Jet's discarded pistol as the newcomers began to retaliate. She threw herself back on the floor. With her own gun, she covered them with gunfire until she could return Jet's firearm to him. Her dress hitched up her legs, the thigh holsters now in full view. Vibrant green panties peeked out from the inside at the apex of her legs.

Spike barreled out of the way of blazing bullets zooming past. "Shit!"

Lying on the ground next to Faye, he ejected the empty magazine and inserted a fresh one into his black pistol. From his position, he spied the material. "Really. Lime green, huh," he stated casually. A smirk showed up on his mouth.

Faye pursed her lips and cow kicked him in the chest. "Stop looking, pervert."

"We gotta get, fast," Jet grunted. He caught the pistol Faye tossed up to him.

"What about the bounty-" Faye started, the surprise coating her voice.

The big man shook his head. "It's no good. Let's go before we're shot all to hell!"

With Jet laying down cover fire, Spike hauled Faye to her feet, then angled his body to pop off a few rounds at their opposition. He snatched up the milkshake on his way and followed the other two out the back exit and into the alley.

Outside next to the dumpsters, Faye watched for any signs of their fleeing quarry while Jet fetched the car parked on the other side of the alley. She turned at the door opening, relaxing when she saw Spike. He made a face as he sucked up the shake.

"You went back for that?"

He swallowed. "It's not as good without some egg in it. No tip for him."

Faye tried to hide the smile he unknowingly put on her face. Though the man liked to mess around, making light of certain situations, never mind how dire they may be, he made her heart a little lighter. Every day. His presence settled her. His lack of emotional awareness, however, would get him into serious trouble someday.

Jet drove the car up to them, skidding to a halt.

Pulling at Spike's shirt, Faye dragged him to the car, pushing him through the now open door. She shoved him further to climb in herself.

The junk car didn't look like much, though it got them from point A to B with no hesitation. The engine's rumble turned into a roar as Jet sped away. "Watch for that slimebag," Jet said.

They entered the main, busy streets, blending in with the locals. People walked along from one area to another. Other vehicles on the streets passed by in a rush. There were so many, Faye couldn't distinguish after a certain distance. "I don't know, Jet. I don't see him. Sorry."

"Hmm. Well. This blows. Not what I expected." Jet made a sound with his mouth and flicked the air freshener hanging under the rectangle mirror.

Faye nodded. "We'll try again. Another day, sometime."

"Sometime," Jet repeated. He looked at her in the mirror. "You mean another year. That guy's evaded the cops and bounty hunters alike for half a decade. He's not stupid."

There was an empty, sipping sound.

They both turned to Spike, who had finished his mediocre milkshake. He seemed to be doing a little better than earlier in the day. His eyes were a little brighter, almost back to normal.

From the other side of the backseat, Spike peered at Faye from his position, his head resting on the armrest. He took in her ragged appearance after their small bar fight.

Bounty work did a number on her.

He licked the whipped cream off the straw and said, "Yea. Next time it'll be a thousand times harder 'cause he knows who we are."

[clericofthebalance]

Life Needs Things to Live, Chapter Three

Class was going to be less of a struggle for Percy today.  Percy settled into his seat in his MW Lit class, one of his final core classes until he could fully focus on what he needed to graduate.  This was the only class he absolutely had to take at the university, something he couldn’t sub with community college classes for a much cheaper rate.

Only one thing made this class tolerable given the 8 AM start time and boring material.  He glued his eyes to the door, sipping his thermos of coffee, waiting patiently.  Finally, she floated in.

Long dark hair captured in a braid, the most beautiful smile he had ever seen, warm eyes that brought flames and autumn and the forest to mind.  She had a sharp and wickedly clever look to her face, joy radiating off every movement and gesture, unique to her very bones.  He adored how she wore blue feathers woven in her hair, how piercings lined her ears, how she emphasized her expressive eyes with perfect eyeliner, how she always had a giant zoology book under her arm.  She was beautiful and clever and just shone in the depressing classroom.

Fuck, he was pathetic and weird.  He really needed to get over his crush and focus on his life, not idolize some poor woman like she was his manic pixie dream girl.  Ugh.

Percy focused on his book, thinking about the two applications he had handed off yesterday. One to Gilmore, to work the counter in his coffee shop, the other to Keyleth for the apartment.  Hopefully, good things would come of it.  They both hinted that he would be accepted.

Maybe Asum could come visit soon, see Beau again.  It would be nice to see his old friend and savior.  To have something to celebrate rather than to mourn.

“Alright, class, we’re going to do a project instead of a final paper.  You’ll be working in assigned pairs to create a presentation and paper on a modern version of any classic novel and how it compares to the source material.  Your initial proposal is due to me in one week.  I’ll call out your assigned pairs now.”

Percy grimaced, praying he’d get someone tolerable that would do their share.  He couldn’t handle working with a freshman who left everything to him again.  He would commit murder.

“Percival and Vex’Ahlia.”

Wait, what?  He stared at Professor Shura blankly and she pointed to the back.  At his crush. Oh, shit fuck.  He was going to humiliate himself.

***

Vex stared at her notes, blanking out.  She hated core classes.  This English class was her absolute last one and it was a misery.  She wished she was out at the zoo or in a lab.  She only wanted to read what she wanted to read. Not this shit.  She sighed.

“Um, excuse me?”

She started and looked up, flushing at the quizzical brow and brilliant eyes on her.  The guy standing over her was hot.  White hair in a messy undercut, heavy brows, a strong yet elegant jaw.  It was the eyes that got her, though, blue as a winter sky and shining with intelligence. Vex easily mustered her most charming, most flirty smile for such a pretty guy.

“Yes, Darling?  How can I help you?”

The questioning frown lifted into a slight smirk, cocky and charming and matching his posh accent, one full and pale eyebrow going up, “Well, we’re partners on our final project according to the professor.”

“Project?”

“Oh, you checked out, too? Apparently we have to do a presentation comparing a classic novel to a modern adaptation while analyzing universal themes,” he rolled his eyes.  His unfairly pretty blue eyes, “And we have to work in pairs.”

“Shit!  I have labs to do! I thought this would just be a paper I could bullshit.”

“I was hoping for that as well,” he dropped into the seat next to her, looking unfairly comfortable in his formal slacks, a neat button up, and a tailored vest in royal blue. No tie, but he did have a black turtleneck underneath.  A little odd for a college student and very high class goth, but whatever.  He was still hot as shit.

“Vex’ahlia, but you can call me Vex.”

He tilted his head, chuckling, her knees going weak as the earrings up his ears sparkled in the fluorescent light of the classroom, “Percival de Rolo, Percy.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Percy Dear.”

“An even greater pleasure to meet you, Miss Vex’Ahlia,” he leaned forward with a charming smile, “So, exchange work and class schedules?  Find a time that works?”

“Schedules? You are a fancy one.”

“I have to plan every minute or I would crumble under the load,” she laughed as he pulled out an honest-to-goodness planner, “Yes, it’s color coordinated.  I was not joking about my life.”

“Okay, okay,” she giggled, grinning, “I get it.  Your girlfriend must keep you busy.”

“Oh-I-Uh-No,” Percy’s pale skin flushed and she noticed some light scarring around his eyes.  It almost looked like droplets, light pink against the lovely red of his cheeks, “I don’t have a girlfriend.  I just work two jobs, a double major with a minor, and a lot of responsibilities.”

“No girlfriend? Really?”

“N-no.  Oh, my phone is ringing!”

She barely held in her laughter at the Star Wars theme coming out of his backpack.  Vex ran her eyes over his profile, appreciating the fine jaw and strong nose, the disheveled hair and two-day scruff, the delicate metallic glasses that gave him a distinguished look only emphasized by his elegant outfit.  An outfit she could tell had seen quite a bit of wear judging by the precisely stitched repairs and fabric fade.  His phone was also an older model, older even than her three generations behind smart phone. So, he was posh but maybe not rich. Just particular about his clothing.

Damn, but he was a fine specimen of a man, his voice soft and refined and lovely.  She wanted to pin him down and see how far that lovely blush went.

“Oh, shit,” he sighed, looking absolutely devastated at whatever the person on the line was saying, “Well, good thing I put in a few applications.  It’s fine, ma’am, you don’t have the time to keep the place open anymore.  I had a feeling this was coming.  Take care and keep me updated.  I’ll be just fine.  You know me.”

He hung up and rubbed his temples, pushing the glasses up, “Sorry about that.  Former job.”

“That’s fine.  Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’ll be fine. This doesn’t even make the top ten of worst things to happen to me,” Percy smiled, but still looked strained, “So, free days?”

“Wednesday after 3 and all weekend except for Saturday morning.  Me and my housemates are interviewing a potential new renter.”

“Oh?  I’m inter-wait, do you live with Kiki?  Keyleth?”

“Yeah, I do!  Are you her Percy?”  Vex lit up at the prospect of getting to spend more time with him and leaned over to look at the organized but packed schedule.  Shit, he wasn’t kidding, “That’s an insane coincidence. She’s told us all about you and Beau. I work at a café just down the street from the house, Laina’s.  We could study there or at the house.  And you could bring Beau and Pepper along.”

“Honestly, that would be great.  I actually just put in an application at Laina’s,” Percy smiled back, “I really appreciate the offer.  You sure you don’t mind?”

“Only if you don’t mind my dog.”

“Deal,” he offered his hand with a wink, beaming, “I-Thanks.”

“Not a problem, handsome,” he flushed to his ears, those spots standing out once more against the red, blushing at her new nickname for him, “So, we can meet up around 4 at Laina’s and I’ll see you Saturday?  I see you’re free from 4 to 7 tonight.”

“I’ll be the one with the black Zemian Shepherd and small child.”

“Sounds great,” she winked, gathering her things, “I’ll see you then.  I need to get to my next class.”

“B-bye,” Percy was frozen, flushed, and staring at her like she was the most gorgeous thing in the world. She strode off with a confident swing to her hips, head held high, and a triumphant grin.  A study date with a handsome man and his babies.  Hopefully, she and Beau would get along.  Kids usually liked her.  Then, she could hunt down that sexy shy bastard.

But first…

She dialed Vax as soon as she was outside the building, knowing his first class wasn’t until noon and he was off this morning, biting her lip.

“What’s up, Stubby?”

“Morning, shitbird.  I met the potential roomie today.  He’s apparently in my lit class and we got assigned a project together.”

“You sound entirely too chipper for this early.”

“Well, he’s absolutely gorgeous and looks like a good guy.  He got fired while we were talking and didn’t even react.  Was just as pleasant as before the call.  I liked him,” Vax made a disbelieving snort, “Really! He color-coordinates his schedule. It’s absolutely adorable.”

“Are you thinking with your head?”

“Yes!  I promise, you’ll like him.  His phone is older than mine and he has definitely patched his clothes a few times.”

“Fine.  I’ll go a bit easier on him.”

“On that note, I’ll be studying at Laina’s tonight.  With him. While you’re working.  I’ll get Grog to walk me home.”

“Wait, what?”

She hung up with a smug smirk.  That would drive him crazy all day.

[hazbinextgeneration]

Name: Gem-Stone

Personality: stubborn, blunt, trickster, loud, open to those she's close to, not afraid to speak her mind

Age: Unknown. Physically 18

Species: Demon werewolf

Family: Husk: Father, Crymini:Mother, Wild-Card: Older half brother, Dexter: Older half brother

Appearance: grey fur with dark pink patches/ eyes, red hair/tail/ with pink heart markings, diamond strands, yellow heart birthmark on cheek, small black stripe and white tips on hair and tail, black and blue outfit with crossbones, spiked collar, and card themed ear rings, small red wings with diamond markings.

Full Demon Mode/Powers: doesn't really have any abilites beyond collecting souks and not ageing like other demons. But when full demon, all the dark pink spots on her body turn red, her fangs enlarge, and she becomes more feral. Is the most strongest after Angel-Cake. She has some black magic but she can only levitate things and summon knives.

Bonus:  Gem-Stone is the youngest of the kids at the hotel and was the result of too much partying by Husk and Crymini. Husk was.....devastated to say the least when he found out what they had done under the influence of alcohol. How could be betray Charlie like this?! They already had a little kitten! Crymini didn't fair much better when the situation came back to haunt her. Didn’t she already got through the same thing with Dexter?!

For a while the two had a silent agreement to keep it a secret and keep it to themselves, but it was pretty hard when Crymini kept throwing up at random times and her stomach increased in size. Charlie was the first to approach Crymini with a bright smile and was happy for her, but stunned back when the she wolf began crying and babbling to her what happened. To both of their surprise, she wasn’t mad. Hurt and annoyed that they didn’t tell her? Yes. Upset they would drink so much and do this? Absolutely. But not mad. The three talked for a good amount of time and eventually came to the agreement that Crymini and Husk should raise the kid to make up for their actions.Crymini accepted the responsibility of mother for her. 

Because her and Gem-Stone have similar personalities, they often but heads. Which often resulted in full blown screaming arguements or sometimes a slap or two from Crymini. After an incident when Gem-Stone found her mother crying after an intense fight with her, she's toned down her temper but usually focuses it on anyone who angers her. She’s closer to Husk who is often the won she’ll go too when she’s upset because of his calming attitude. People often mistake her and Crymini for sisters rather than mother daughter, though this might be because of their similar personalities or Crymini’s Physical appearance. 

She's pretty protective of pack. Mostly her mother and Dexter because of Dexter’s condition. In reality it’s also the same with her and Wild-Card. He has a lot of pressure on him from his grandmother and she would flip if she ever saw Gemmy. Her attitude sometimes gets the best of her and it’s either Wild-Card or Crymini that has to drag her out of these situations. She's the first one to apologize after a fight, and does NOT let anyone touch her brothers. If anyone’s gonna give her brothers a good thumpin’ it’s her. Being the youngest at the hotel, a lot of others treat her like their little sister. 

Despite her temper, she has a trickster personality and sometimes teams up with Angel-Cake, Maizy, and sometime Beauty to play pranks on others. She could sometimes be found chasing Alastor while barking like a dog if she's not with her girlfriend(she’s panromantic). She looks up to her older brothers alot. If something goes wrong, the first one she goes to is her father as he is more cuddly and understanding about certain situations than Crymini is.

She knows she was a mistake of too much booze and sometimes she does wonder if she was really meant to be there. Crymini TRIES to be a good mom and offers her and Dexter to come party and hang out with her. While these seem more of a friend thing than a mom thing, Gemmy does appreciate her attempts. Her biggest annoyance is Vanilla. Villa knew Crymini and as a result Vanilla views Gemmy as her officially best friend and will drop by unannounced to drag her into a shopping spree or something. She puts up with her because 1. She often reminds her of Beauty, and 2. Vanilla IS Angel-Cake’s cousin and she’s with Dexter. She doesn’t want any bad blood between their families. But she does get highly annoyed when Vanilla randomly flirts with her brother.

She has some qualities from Husk, such as wings and black magic. Her magic isn’t as strong as Wild-Card’s and so far she’s only able to levitate things and summon knives. Maizy has been helping her try to tap into her magical potential but to no use.

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Most land offices would reveal to you that the presence of the outside of your property could definitely impact regardless of whether you move your home. A house purchaser's initial introduction is normally founded on his or her perspective of the property from the check or asphalt. To improve your home's check advance, you can plant brambles and blooms. Normally, a brilliant garden would add a sprinkle of liveliness to your property and is certain to make a great early introduction; consequently keep your yard uniformly cut, and free of dark colored spots.

3. Don't DIY. While trying to maintain a strategic distance from home operator expenses, loads of individuals select to move their genuine houses themselves. This really acts bunches of issues like couple of home dealers can bear the cost of the publicizing costs expected to draw in property purchasers. This implies your property will spend quite a while on the lodging market until the point that you considerably brings down your asking house cost. Studies demonstrate that 3 out 4 houses that are not being sold through land offices or property purchaser organizations are being sold for not exactly the asking property cost, and the normal time a property stays available before it is sold has expanded from 8 to 10 weeks.

4. Practice Caution With Real Estate Agencies. When moving your home through a land operator, give careful consideration to the different commands accessible. A ton of land specialists will urge you to sign a selective command, which implies that the land operator would get commission from the property, paying little mind to who really moves it. Furthermore, your property could be on the lodging market for a year without the bequest operator making any progress in moving your home, and there's nothing that you as home vender can do about this.

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Class Feature Friday: Marid Bloodline/Shahzada Wildblooded Variant (Sorcerer Bloodline/Wildblooded Variant)

It’s time for another genie-based alternative to the elemental bloodline!

This time we’re looking at the Marid bloodline, based around the water-element genies of the same name.

Marids, as far as genies go, are clever and mercurial, and are famed for their hospitality. However, they are also as unpredictable as the water they emulate, vexing their friends and terrifying their foes when the wrath of the very tides comes down upon them.

Like all genie-based bloodlines, this one contains elements of the elemental bloodline’s design, but with a healthy dose of powers unique to the element in question. However, unlike the other genie bloodlines, this one is the only one to have received a wildblooded variant, namely one based on the noble bloodline of marids, the so-called “shahzada” among their people.

Whether they are biological descendants of trysts with a marid, or were heavily influenced by the genies or the element of water (perhaps even influenced by a wish from a marid!), these sorcerers no doubt display some signs of their heritage, such as having flowing, full hair, blueish skin, deep blue eyes, and so on. Shahzada-blooded sorcerers may be difficult to discern in this way, though perhaps they possess a more regal bearing than even other marid-blooded sorcerers.

 The spells associated with this bloodline involve those that work with mist (either conjuring or transforming into), seeing past invisibility, conjuring walls of ice, creating powerful illusions, shapeshifting into elemental beings of great power, traveling to other planes, unleashing beams of devastating cold, and of course, warping reality with genie wish magic.

The various techniques that these mystics have a talent for include those that give them increased offensive and defensive agility, durability, physical might, knowledge of the planes, and even pouring more power into spells for greater results.

For the core bloodline, the arcana associated with it is the same as that of the elemental bloodline, allowing them to turn various elemental blasting spells into cold spells for free.

The wildblooded variant, however, channels the power of any water spell you unleash to accelerate your movements underwater for a short period, perhaps accelerating limb movements, briefly transforming feet into fins, or perhaps surrounding the caster in a telekinetically-controlled sheath of water, jetting through with ease.

Unleashing a minor expression of elemental power, these sorcerers can blast foes with rays of cold, similar to other elemental bloodlines.

In the same vein, they also gain a supernatural resistance to the cold.

Drawing upon the power of rushing water, these sorcerers can unleash a linear jet of rushing water that can hammer multiple foes, the briny spray also potentially blinding their targets for a brief moment.

The core bloodline eventually also enhances the swimming speed of the sorcerer through either transformative or other supernatural means, making them exceptionally swift underwater.

Shahzada-blooded sorcerers, however, learn another method for unleashing pressurized water at foes, unleashing a devastating spray from their mouths that not only harms foes, but can push those within the wide spray away from the mage.

Finally, the most powerful of these sorcerers truly begin to emulate the genies they draw their power from, gaining the ability to grant minor wishes with restrictions, immunity to cold, and the ability to plane shift to the plane of water.

With their combination of feats, spells, and abilities, this bloodline is shaping up to have an even mix of attack, defense, and mobility, making them able to specialize in one or the other, or allow the character to sport a pretty evenly-mixed, balanced build. The shahzada variant trades out more constant watery movement at later levels and cold damage at any level for conditional water mobility at any level, and a secondary high-level non-spell blasting option. As such, I can see it being more suitable for builds you don’t plan on doing much swimming with, plan on packing a lot of water spells, and/or plan on focusing on blasting and playing keep away with foes.

 As we now have Planar Adventures expanding out horizons to the great beyond, some marid-blooded sorcerers may hope that their bloodlines may secure them a place in true marid culture, which might indeed be the case, though such extraplanar movers and shakers should beware, for the marids are mercurial, and even those that manage to stay in their good graces may end up being pawns if they are not careful.

Also, it’s definitely worth mentioning that the shahzada variant makes for an excellent template for wildblooded variants for the other three genie bloodlines.

  Not a true genie, but rather an ogre with marid blood, Rokuso was considered a grand embarrassment to not only the genies, but also the mortal culture his mother was enslaved by. However, few have worked harder and fought longer to develop their own power as he has, and if he cannot find acceptance among those people, then he will find it elsewhere.

 Channeling the power of ice and wave, the so-called “Shah of the Freezing Coast” staked his claim on dragon-haunted territory, retrieving a rare dragonorb of the khala, cementing his rule over the icy, three-headed dragons and their territory.

 Invited into a marid’s home to discuss the return of the eye of a great asura, the party sees the typical court of genies, undines, merfolk, and tritons. However, there is one who is clearly out of place, a samsaran woman outfitted in loose golden chains, with an uncanny mastery of water magic, but whom members of the court hesitate to discuss.

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Zombieland Saga: Revenge – 12 (Fin) – Not Leaving It Up to God

ZSR’s totally epic saga of a finale starts out very stodgily, at the Saga Prefectural Office’s Special Task Force HQ. There’s a wonky procedural flavor to the proceedings reminiscent of the underrated Shin Godzilla, in that it mirrors the real life Japanese collective spirit of 1.) This Is The Problem; 2.) This Is What We Do About It; and 3.) We’ve All Got Matching Jumpsuits. Honestly I think it’s ultra badass that in dire times, even the government officials start dressing like a bike gang. Or is it t’other way ’round?

It is into this disaster CIC that Tatsumi Koutarou insinuates himself, and despite being held back by police, makes sure Saga’s governor hears his pleas to prioritize restoring the infrastructure around the Tosu area—where EFS happens to be located. Koutarou knows what Saga needs is a pure, uncut injeciton of reassurance into the hearts of every Saga resident. Something to unify them so they can all defeat this horrible disaster together.

That something is, obviously Franchouchou, who are enjoying a well-deserved bath prior to the biggest show of their lives that they’re still not even sure will happen due to the ongoing calamity.

While they rest up and make sure they’re prepared come what may, Koutarou is risking imprisonment to plead his case to the people who decide what happens in Saga, while Ookoba uses all of his media connections not for Koutarou’s sake, but for those girls who give everything their all, no matter how dead they are.

Sakura may get the day of the week wrong—and there were a good eight to ten months during Covid when I lost track too!—fate smiles on the group over at Saga FM, which is not only operational and on the air, but in dire need of personalities to fill that air time. Saki then proceeds to give a vulnerable and impassioned pep talk—one of the best monologues of the whole show—and Tano Asami absolutely nails it.

The next morning, Franchouchou, the Legendary Seven, strike out from the mall shelter they’ve called home the past few days and make the trek to EFS on foot. This offers them and us an opportunity to view both the devastation and the enduring beauty of their home.

When they arrive at EFS, it again seems to mock them with its cavernous emptiness. But instead of oppressive, I saw the venue as brimming with potential. Sure enough, people who love Franchouchou and whose lives they’ve touched start to trickle in, starting with their two first and most loyal fans, the metalheads.

Maria and the delinquents past and present file in, followed by Maimai and her classmates, Iron Frill and their followers, Oozora Light and his encourage, Hisanaka Pharmaceuticals, NHBK Fukuoka news chopper who has followed the group’s story since discovering them at the mall shelter, White Ryuu and a contingent of American troops, possibly from Yokozuka. Even the Dancing Chicken Man shows up!

It’s a beautiful and heartwarming reunion of everyone from Zombieland Saga, and their numerous powerful allies and fans combined with the might of both print, TV, and social media, ensure that this time—even in the midst of what could possibly be Saga’s worst disaster in its history—a packed and positively rocking Ekimae Fudosan Stadium.

The governor’s chief of staff reminds Koutarou that all they did was “choose to prioritize the most effective strategy, after logical consideration”, which is politicspeak for “the people need this right now and we’re going to do everything in our power to see that they get it”—”it” being nothing less than the biggest and best Franchouchou show yet.

No, the zombie idols aren’t coursing with electricity and crazy laser lightshows. Their outfits aren’t over-the-top, but call to mind seven angelic figures dedicated with every fiber of their undead being to make the people of Saga not simply forget their troubles, but to give them the courage to face and defeat them through surpassingly catchy song and dance.

This is not an episode satisfied with one climactic song. It opens with a big-league build-up to the energetic first song, then some call-and-response with the Legendary Yamada Tae (whose gibberish eventually coalesces into a franchouchou chant), which transitions into a slower and more contemplative piece.

Sakura, Saki, Ai, Junko, Yuugiri, Lily, and Tae are all at the top of their games, and the crowd—no doubt still traumatized by current events—are well and truly into it. And while not as important as the revitalizine impact they have on the people of Saga, the group gets their revenge and then some.

Not only is every seat and the entire field packed this time, but while the piddling crowd of their first disastrous EFS show didn’t call for any encores because they thought it would be just too cruel, this time there’s nothing that can stop Franchouchou from heading back out onto the stage after a quick breather.

Before they do, Koutarou prostrates himself before them and despite being a “grown-ass man” starts tearing up at the sheer restorative power of the zombie idols. Silly, Koutarou, being open with your emotions is what makes men grown-ass! As they head back out to hit the crowd with their collective soul, Koutarou tries to scrub out his blood from the floor; a truly ill omen.

Franchouchou’s final song is interspersed with scenes of Saga rebuilding and people overcoming adversity together, echoing their own personal struggles as well as their struggles as a group. Let it be said that both Franchouchou and Zombieland Saga as a series left absolutely everything on the stage in its finale.

In fact, if Saga were to, say, be destroyed utterly by an alien warship reminiscent of the City Destroyers from the 1997 blockbuster Independence Day, immediately after the concert wrapped, I don’t think a single person on or off EFS’s stage who’d deny that they went out on a good note.

That’s a good thing, because immediately after the concert wraps, Saga is in fact apparently destroyed utterly by an alien warship reminiscent of the City Destroyers from the 1997 blockbuster Independence Day. It’s kind of a downer, but it’s also the kind of irreverence and absurdity I’ve come to know and love from Zombieland Saga, and why I will miss it and each and every member of Franchouchou so damn much. What a frikkin’ ending!

RABUJOI WORLD HERITAGE LIST

By: sesameacrylic