#there are scans for the 2000 run though

[silkscream]

bullfight of love

ੈ✩ choso x reader

ੈ✩ tags: flirting, masturbation, porn watching, vaginal sex, riding, soft sub!choso, 2000s au, coworkers, workplace relationship, film bro stuff

ੈ✩ wc: 4.7k

ੈ✩ a/n: i wanted to write choso being a weirdofreak pervert boy that's all. this is part of my fics for gaza <3 there will be a part two for this. do not ask me about a part two because it's already being made

Maki could kill you for being late again. Five missed texts, the final exaggerated with periods and exclamation points – and she never used proper spelling, let alone punctuation. It wasn't serious the way she made it out to be. 

Toji never cared about your track record. The bastard was never in the shop anyway, probably high off his ass in whatever shed of a place he lived in. Maki already hated her cousin enough for the rest of the crew, running that stupid video store like it was a real family business. It was a summer job to you and nothing else.

She sighs when she sees you walk through the door, handing you your name tag without a word before fucking off to the storage room to look at the new shipments.

“Don’t give me the silent treatment!” you yell after her. In response, you only get a middle finger, chipped black nail polish with half a skeleton decal hanging on.

It’s always slow on Mondays. Considering the new cinema that opened across the street, it's slow every day. You should’ve taken a job there, scooping buckets of buttered popcorn instead of telling off porn-stached men who continually mistook the shop as the old adult video store. 

You mindlessly watch Reservoir Dogs on the CRTV, shaken by the sudden flood of middle school students paving their way to the used video game section. Fumbling with the remote, you meet a hard-faced Maki once again. 

“You can’t put on Tarantino, dude. Kids are in here.”

“It was already on,” you shrug. 

Maki rolls her eyes and points to a small stack by the register – some John Hughes VHS tapes. Sixteen Candles. The Breakfast Club. Most shit that both of you hated.

“Gotcha.”

“Can you deal with the new kid, today? Toji didn’t scan all the new shit in like he was supposed to last week.”

“New kid?”

“Uh, yeah. Goth-ish. Like he got spit out of a Hot Topic or something,” she snorts. “No hazing.”

“I should be saying that to you.”

She scoffs at you before rushing back. You’d had a crush on her when you started working there, back when she still had an eyebrow piercing before she let it get infected. She had that Silent Hill look about her for lack of better words. Resting bitch face with a raspy pout. 

Your head swims a little, pounding from dehydration. The morning joint didn’t help, either, nor did the fact that you had to train a newbie today. 

It’s quiet after the kids leave, snatching up some forbidden R-rated movie that’ll traumatize them during a basement sleepover. You nearly doze off once the clock hits three, but loud footsteps bring you back to life. 

A boy that couldn’t be much older than you stares into you, narrowed eyes boring into your soul. You see the dark birthmark across his nose first, as if someone had slashed him with a blade in one straight swoop. He smells like cigarettes and his eyes are decorated with some reddish eyeshadow. Either that or he had the complexion of a sickly Victorian child. 

“Hey,” you deadpan. “Can I help you?”

“I’m the new hire,” he says. His voice is low. He reminds you of the goths that would hit on you at high school parties. He's prettier, though. 

You give him a once-over quickly – he’s taller than you expect, for some reason, and you notice the blooming swirls of abstract tattoos peeking from beneath his sleeves.

“You don’t sound so sure about that,” you smirk. 

He rolls his eyes and introduces himself. Choso. You repeat his name, tasting it on your tongue. He has half a mind to shake your hand but pulls away awkwardly. You take note of the silver rings adorning his fingers.

You tilt your head. “I like your, uh, space buns…”

“Uh, thanks,” he narrows his eyes.

“Okay, so… have you ever used a cash register?”

“Yes.”

“Great. That’s basically half the job.”

You show him the ropes – how to make sales and deal with teens. Cash drops and tracking inventory. You ask him what attracted him to the idea of working at a run-down video store and he says he likes movies and easy money. His brother liked the place, too. 

“You got the Human Earthworm series, boss?” he drones, bored.

“Yeah, think so. You like romance-horror or just terrible practical effects?”

He snorts. “My little brother likes it. Wants to have a marathon with me.”

“Cute.”

Hours pass and he’s gotten the hang of it. If anything, there are more customers than usual today, because you suppose that Choso is conspicuous in appearance and the teenage girls that hang around at the food court need something new to play with. 

It stirs something uneasy in your gut, the waft of saccharine perfume in the air. Girls with tongue piercings, lollipops staining their lips as they bend over the counter to talk to Choso. Ripe girls.

They probably thought he could buy them alcohol, take them for a joyride. He’d only offer them an aloof, blank stare in return. It makes you almost giddy. By the time night comes around, you tell them to fuck off like flies.

“Closing time.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Choso mock-salutes, an amused smirk on his lips. Half-lidded eyes like a cat, maybe a stoner, though he didn’t smell like it. You saw him on his break anyway, sipping down an Asahi Super Dry in the back as if you weren’t looking.

He already knew his place, knew that you wouldn’t rat him out. It was the way something flickered in his eyes when you caught him. A taunt, a quiet challenge. 

You watch him count cash. Chipped black fingernails looked odd on his veiny hands like they were painted in a rush by a child. You notice scrawled pen on his pale skin. Smudged phone numbers.

“Getting hit on already?”

He glances at you and shrugs, hiding a smile. “Half were just from bored teenagers. Other half bored single mothers.”

“Any takers?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

You narrow your eyes. 

“Ha. Don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not,” you snort. “As long as we get customers I guess.”

“Oof. You’re cold. You don’t care how I get these people to buy these movies as long as they buy ‘em, huh?”

“You’re not whoring yourself out by being a cashier. Relax.”

He shrugs on his jacket. Crumpled leather, the kind that held the smell of smoke over generations. It made him look like Takuya Kimura in that way, maybe if his hair was down.

He grins when he finds you staring.

“We done for the night, then, boss?”

You roll your eyes at the nickname. “Uh-huh. Night, newbie.”

He smiles sardonically, looking out and noticing the rain. He curses inwardly, knowing that skating home would be a bitch, and the next bus to his side of town wasn’t for another half hour. He clears his throat.

“Leaving already?”

“Yeah. What, don’t have a ride home, kiddo?”

“Fuck off. I’m not a damn kid. I’m just not someone with a car,” Choso mutters dryly. “I work at a movie rental place for a living. I take the bus everywhere.”

“Sucks to suck then,” you smirk, saluting him goodbye. You throw him the keys. “I trust you to lock up then, yeah? See ya.”

He lets out a frustrated scoff but doesn’t bother to convince you, opting to watch you go. Once you’re out of reach, he sighs and turns, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking around the dim store. 

Yuuji was probably out with that sea urchin–haired punk again. He had to remind himself to save up for a car instead of constantly having to share their parents’ beat-up Toyota.

He could take advantage of the shitty TV in the office, maybe. Watch a stupid re-run while he waits, because he sure as hell isn’t going to wait out in the rain. He walks in and settles on the black leather couch straight out of an amateur porno. He snorts and looks through a fat stack of DVDs in the corner. 

His mouth twists when he picks up something with a racy title. His eyes widen when he realizes it’s an adult film.

“Holy shit,” he mutters, scoffing. He lets out a low whistle, glancing around the office as if someone’s out there, ready to jump him. It’s eerily quiet. He can’t even hear the pitter-patter of rain from in here.

He skims the back cover. It looks crude, but Choso has never really been one to turn down something raunchy. He liked stupid movies, gory ones, art films with weird unsimulated sex. He’d gotten off to In the Realm of the Senses when he was thirteen. Skimming through something this cheap shouldn’t hurt. It wouldn’t arouse him — it would be as entertaining and silly as watching a sitcom for him.

He inserts the disc into the DVD player and waits for it to load. There are no cameras in the office, he notices. Figures. The way you talked about the owner made it seem like the place was barely being held together if not for you.

And then, he thinks of you. He immediately thought you were pretty, not that he’d ever let you know that. Plainer than his usual type, but something was alluring about the curve of your mouth, the way you spoke. He liked that you didn’t take shit most of all. It was probably the hottest thing about you.

He knew better than to fuck around with a coworker, however. It never ended well and resulted in petty drama. He was too old for that shit, wasn’t in high school anymore — he was a man.

When the intro to the film finally loads, a woman in a skimpy, barely-there dress appears on the screen. It’s something vintage, for sure, given the grain. She’s in a love hotel. 

Choso fast-forwards through blurs of messy kissing, colored lights illuminating a heart-shaped tub. He pauses on a frame of the girl riding, her mouth wide open in ecstasy. He presses play.

After about ten minutes, he finds himself in a trance watching with rapt attention at the way the actress moves. His cock twitches when he realizes that she looks a little too much like you. 

She moans particularly loudly and his mouth parts. Something snaps inside of him. 

He has to pause it again. Jesus.

Choso feels like a pervert. No, he’s a man with urges, needs. It’s a pure coincidence that the actress in the porno looks like you of all people. It’s not like he sought her out himself. A movie like this shouldn’t even be in here.

He grits his teeth, hands clenching around the couch leather until his knuckles are white. He takes a breath before pressing play again and his eyes widen when the girl gets even louder.

Ah, fuck it.

He mutters under his breath, shifting on the couch. Glances at the blowjob lips on the screen, soft and plush. He thinks of you and swallows. He bites his cheek, conflicted.

Maybe he shouldn’t.

Then again, no one has to know.

He lets out a shaky exhale, trying to resist the pressure building inside him. It feels like trying to contain a geyser with a cup, and he hasn’t even touched himself yet. 

After contemplating for a beat, he sighs and unbuttons the fly of his jeans, using his other hand to press play again. A gasp escapes his lips as he watches the girl on the screen. The curve of her back, the bounce of her tits. She looks soft. He wonders if you’d be as —

No. No. He’s not doing that.

He spits in his hand and strokes himself, his breathing starting to come out in short, uneven pants. There’s a rush of heat in his gut as he watches. His head tilts back slightly, eyes roaming the ceiling before closing them as he attempts to calm himself down. It’s no use.

His breath hitches, eyes glued to the screen. He’s memorized by the slick flowing out of her. Fuck, he hasn’t gotten laid in a long time. It’s killing him.

It’d be okay if he pretended it was you. It’s not like you would find out. He could imagine fucking your face the way the guy was doing right now in the video, making the bitch gag and moan. Whimpering at being called a good girl. 

“Oh, god–” he mutters, his voice a strangled gasp. She really did look like you. Disturbingly so. When he’s done, he’ll have to wash his hands for five minutes straight from the shame. 

He pants, his grip on himself firm as he squeezes his shaft. Precum smears over his tip and he groans at the sound of the woman’s whimpers getting louder and louder. It makes his lungs seize. He’s getting close.

He doesn’t even register the jingling of the doorknob.

Choso’s head jerks up, his eyes widening in shock as his head turns to see you in the doorway blinking at him. 

“Oh.”

His throat’s dry. What a cruel fucking joke from the universe. There’s no coming back from this. Not when the video’s still going and he’s still half dressed, hand on his fly in mortification.

You tilt your head, smirking. “Nice cock.”

Choso’s at a loss for words, staring at you with embarrassment and utter daze. What the fuck?

“I, uh…” he chokes out, his voice rough and more high-pitched than usual. Face burning. 

He’s going to get fired. No – he has to quit before you even get another word in, save the little dignity he has, maybe convince Yuuji to move to another shitty town with him so he never has to see you again —

“Forgot my wallet,” you say, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

You walk into the room, peering at him. Your eyes fall on the TV, which is still going. The moans feel cheap and tacky now that he’s back in reality. 

Choso scrambles to press the stop button on the remote, his other hand moving to put a pillow on top of his leaking dick. His eyes flicker wildly between your face and the screen.

“You find that in here?”

“Uh… yeah… I, um—”

You snort. “Forgot to tell you that this used to be an adult video store.”

“That explains the selection,” he mutters sheepishly. 

You eye him carefully. He blushes. “Didn’t finish?” you taunt.

He feels too fucking humiliated to say anything, so he mutely nods instead. He fumbles with the zipper of his jeans underneath the pillow.

“Need some help?”

He gapes at you for a moment before looking away. You look amused as you scan his face. Was he hearing you correctly? Was he dreaming?

“Are you— are you offering?” he gasps out, dumbfounded. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done something like that in here.”

Choso’s jaw drops. 

He stares at you for a moment at a loss for words. Curiosity begins to win out over embarrassment.

“With… who?”

“None of your business,” you chuckle.

He doesn’t like that answer. His jaw clenches, knowing that it’s stupid that it hurts his ego a bit for no reason at all. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t press the issue as his gears turn back to your previous offer.

“Then you… uh… want to…? With me?”

“You want to, right?”

He swallows nervously, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks at your body shamelessly for a bit. He’s still so fucking hard. Finally, he nods shyly.

“Okay. Take your clothes off, then.”

For a moment, he wants to protest. This is the last thing he expects from you. Maybe it was a blackmail situation — if he doesn’t let you fuck him, would you fire him? 

He realizes that he doesn’t care either way if he gets to fuck you.

He pushes his jeans down with his boxer briefs, shoves the pillow in his lap away with a blush. Slowly, he strips off his t-shirt, leaving him completely exposed. He can feel your gaze on him, raking his chest and arms, the tattoos on his skin. He looks up at you again almost desperately. 

“I meant it,” you drawl. “You do have a nice cock.”

“Th-thanks…” he croaks. 

“Why so nervous?” you tease. “You were flirting with me all day.”

“Yeah, but–” he mutters, huffing defensively. “I didn’t think you’d actually—”

“Wanna fuck you?” you finish for him.

You say it so bluntly that it catches him off guard. He hadn’t really given it too much thought. You were somewhat receptive to his advances if he could call it that. It was mostly him being himself. His sarcasm was meant to be flirting, but none of it was that serious. He found you hot and interesting. He liked that you could keep up with him. 

When he started touching himself with you in mind, everything was thrown out the window. He wanted you, and would probably dream about you when he got home, but the guilt and shame of doing something so depraved in his place of work made him embarrassed. He wouldn’t have been able to face you on his next shift, and then you decided to barge in and ruin everything. 

And now, you’re offering yourself to him on a silver platter. It was absurd.

He narrows his eyes. “What’s in it for you?”

“I think you’re hot. Isn’t that enough?” 

“You… you actually wanna… uh–”

“Yeah, Choso,” you roll your eyes. “I wanna fuck you.”

He shifts on the couch, eyes roaming hungrily over your body as his breaths grow labored. He swallows a lump in his throat.

“Then… do it,” he mumbles.

You grin, moving to straddle his lap. His hands flex and he has to remember to not appear so eager. This is just a casual hookup with a coworker. One born out of bizarre circumstances, sure, but he needs to play it cool. He grips the edge of the couch.

“Don’t wanna touch me?”

He feels even more meek, if that was possible. He hesitates, throat bobbing as he swallows. He’d had girls in his lap before. Bouncing them on his cock until they cried. For some reason, he feels like the submissive one here just because you’re on top of him. 

“Uh,” he stammers. His voice is quiet, nervous. You think it’s cute. “I didn’t know if I was, uh, allowed to—”

“Go ahead.”

He holds back from kissing you. Instead, he smoothes his large hands over your hips, the curve of your waist. He lifts his hands to the edge of your shirt and hooks his fingers into the hem, slowly tugging it upwards. The reveal of skin is tantalizing, makes his mouth water like a man stranded in a desert. 

Sparks jolt the length of his spine as his fingers brush over the bare skin of your stomach. Fuck, you’re soft. He knew you would be. He pulls the shirt over your head and ogles stupidly at your chest. 

“Someone’s worked up,” you tease, playing with his hair. You undo his buns, leaving his hair down.

“Of course I am,” he mutters, his voice strained. “You’re sitting on my lap, looking like that—”

“Can I kiss you?”

His eyes widen. 

“Please,” he breathes. It almost comes out like a desperate whine. “I mean— yeah—”

You raise a brow, laughing. It makes his face heat up down to his neck. 

“Begging already? Thought you’d be more of a dominant type.”

You’ve thought about me?

“I— I am,” he grumbles. 

“Uh-huh. I’ll let you prove it later.” You lean in.

“Promise?” He looks at you with something eager in his gaze and your eyes soften. 

“Mhm.”

Finally, he captures your lips with his. You sigh into it and it makes his cock throb underneath you. He takes that as an invitation, his tongue immediately pushing past the plush of your lips. He reaches up to grab the back of your head and tangles his fingers in your hair as if he’s done it all before. It makes you moan a little in his mouth.

He moans back, pulling you flush against the hard planes of his chest. You pull back slightly, leaving him to chase your lips for a moment as he lets out a small huff of protest. When you look at him, his eyes are half-lidded, lips slightly parted and shiny with spit.

“You’re pretty,” you say without thinking. “Real pretty.”

He flushes, unable to form words. His expression immediately floods with disappointment when you get off his lap to stand. 

“Where are you going?” His voice would be whiny if it wasn’t so gruff from desire. 

“Relax, idiot.” You unbutton your pants, sliding them down slowly. He assumes you’re teasing him, which he doesn’t particularly mind. You’re a sight to behold. His cock twitches as his eyes look at your smooth thighs. 

“Get over here,” he huffs. You laugh, moving to straddle him. 

He doesn’t have time to react before you lean in to immediately nip at his neck. He lets out a moan, hips bucking involuntarily. You can feel his pulse quickening, the vibration of his moans underneath your lips. 

“Fuck,” he gasps. His fingernails dig into the meat of your waist. 

He can’t stay still. It takes him everything in him to not rock his hips up into you. It doesn’t help that he can already feel your wet heat hovering over his cock. His brain nearly short-circuits. He preens under you, grabbing at you like you’re going to fly away. 

“Be patient. Wanna play with you first,” you mumble.

Choso’s eyes flutter closed as you speak. You sound so fucking sexy right now, he can’t stand it. It’s better than the stupid filler plot he scrubbed through in that damn porno. Miles better. 

“Play with me,” he grits. “Fuck — later.”

“Oh, yeah. Forgot you were pregaming this before I walked in.”

He glares at you. It’s entertaining watching the expression melt off his face when you lift your hips and immediately slam down on him. The moan he lets out is guttural. His hands immediately find your hips.

“Hah – fuck,” you breathe. “You’re bigger than you look.”

Choso lets out a strangled chuckle, head falling back on the couch. It makes him look even hotter, the way his tattoos flex with his collarbone. 

“Told you I wasn’t a kid.”

Your laugh tapers off into a moan when he gives a small, tentative roll of his hips. Testing the waters. You’re so fucking tight that it’s making it hard for him to even think. When he hears you gasp at being filled by him completely, his eyes widen.

“Shit,” he gasps. “Wanna make you do that again—”

“H-Huh?”

His eyes lock on your face as he grins, grinding into you slowly. 

“That noise–” he groans, his throat taut and dry. “You made this little gasp—”

“Ah–”

“There it is,” he snickers. His eyes gleam. “Just like that.”

Your eyes roll back, mirroring the roll of his cock inside you. Your cunt clenches around him and it feels like fucking heaven. He can feel all your wetness drool into his lap. He had the urge to push you into the leather, cant his hips up like something rabid. 

It feels like his brain was going to fall out of his nose, the head rush in tandem with the blood pumping into his cock. Impossible tightness. Snug cunt, petals closing into a bud. 

When you wrap your arms around him, it almost feels romantic. It’s dangerous.

He kisses you, then. Quivers when he feels you getting lost in it, tasting nicotine in your swapped spit. He whimpers as you start to move your hips with more intention. You smile wryly at his reaction, pulling away, eyes fixed on where your bodies meet.

You’re a fucking wet dream while you’re riding him. The way your hair brushes messily over your jawline, the way your mouth parts with a gasp every time he feels you pulsate on his cock. Choso grabs your ass greedily and kneads it, mesmerized at the softness of your flesh. 

“God, you look so fucking good right now—”

His eyes flash as he watches you move. He tries to match your tempo, rutting up into you with frenzied effort. His cheeks are flushed as he nearly unravels himself for you, his expression raw and hungry. He leans in to suck on your tongue, descending his wet mouth down to your jaw, your tits. Oral fixation.

You can feel him deep in your stomach, buried in you. It’s as if he could pierce you through the throat. You’re sure that you’ll ache everywhere by the time you get home. You’d never taken a cock quite this big, never been this wet, your insides swirling around like a washing machine. Your guts all muddled with something that felt too warm for just lust.

“So fucking hot,” he mumbles, hands pressing into your bare thighs. 

All his preoccupations with you had disappeared. He didn’t care if you thought he was a pervert, since you were one too, in a way. Letting him fuck you like this when he barely knew you at all, yet a repressed part of his brain made his heart flutter at the thought of you. It didn’t help that he could practically feel your heartbeat with his cock.

It isn’t romance — it has to be the sex. He can’t think about it too much right now. Not when he’s in a state of delirium inside your cunt.

“Choso, I’m close,” you whine.

“Yeah?” he rasps. “Fuck, me too.” 

His hair is tousled and sticky. Eyes glazed, chest rising and falling rapidly.

He grabs at your hips, guiding them to grind on him faster. Your wetness makes it all so smooth — all buttery, no resistance. You feel full.

He feels like he’s being squeezed to death, to heaven. It sends him over the edge at the same time he feels your pussy clench around him. You tremble in waves as you gasp out a moan. It’s more like a choked breath. He can’t stop watching you as you come, the way your eyes roll back. 

A whine escapes his throat as he cums. Everything that seeps out is slick, feels like something new and primordial at once. Seraphic, he’d say, if he happened to be drunk. He certainly feels drunk.

Choso doesn’t expect you to kiss him so sweetly after such a vulgar affair. He lets out a long exhale into your mouth with eyes closed, letting his head fall back a little while your hands cup his cheeks. His body is all melted limbs, languid sex. 

“Jesus,” he mutters. 

“Hey.”

He opens his eyes and gazes at you through sleepy lids. He lifts a hand lazily, brushing the hair away from your face.

“Yeah?”

“Did you pick an actress that looked like me on purpose?”

He freezes. His hands tighten around your waist as he looks away.

“No,” he scoffs. “Just thought she was hot—”

You chuckle.

“I didn’t pick it, I found it,” he gruffs. “I’ll admit that… she looks like you… I guess.”

“Was I as good?” 

He scoffs again, his eyes flashing with a mix of playfulness and irritation. You were as much of a little shit as he was.

“You’re better,” he rolls his eyes. “I already told you what I think, dumbass. Real pretty.”

“Oh, did you?”

There’s a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “I’d be pretty pissed if you weren’t better than some stupid video—”

“Idiot. Those girls are probably like, Olympians at fucking. Porn isn’t like real sex anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he grins. He pauses for a moment, suddenly looking timid. “It’s just… a decent placeholder for when I… y’know.”

“Just call me next time.”

Choso’s eyes widen slightly, unable to hide his surprise. He sputters for a second.

“What? I’m, uh— not gonna call you every time I—” he groans, “That’ll be way too many times.”

You raise a brow.

“Wait, no— that came out wrong. I’m not some horny freak or something—”

“I mean, given how I found you…”

“That’s—” he stammers, unable to complete a sentence without his brain completely blacking out every millisecond. “That was a one-time thing.”

“Hope so. I don’t wanna fire you, newbie,” you grin.

His pulse quickens at your smile. 

“Like hell, you will. You’re too understaffed to fire me.”

PART TWO

[copias-fluffy-asscheeks]

Proposal In The Pumpkins

PapaIVxReader

2000 words | No warnings

He was nervous. Oh, so nervous. His hands trembled as he fidgeted with the gloves that adorned them. The entire day had been filled with mutters to himself, deep breaths and shuddered sighs, even an anxiety attack in a dingy broom closet. 

He’d laid beside you as you slept, looking at you for most of the night, the hearts forming in his eyes and he was sure if you woke up you’d even see ones floating around his head. You were so pretty, so beautiful, and he wanted to enjoy this night especially; just in case it was the last he shared with you in his bed.

Today was the big day.

The day he’d looked forward to for months, the day he’d feared as well as dreamed off every night he’d fall asleep next to you. And now, as his time arrived, painfully slowly, he wondered if he would even manage. The longest three minutes of his life, he noted, checking the slow ticking clock for the 20th time this past minute. Another ‘last’ checkover in the mirror, scanning his paints, the rat bitten trousers he knew you loved on him and his frilly black dress shirt tucked neatly tucked in them. He’d had his dress shoes cleaned especially for this, he even wore new gloves. 

Copia straightened his back, smoothing his palms over the nonexistent wrinkles in his shirt and running a hand over his hair to smooth back strands the air had ruffled when he’d paced around for a good couple of minutes. He wasn’t too scared you’d say no… Well, that's what he’d like to believe, anyway. Deep down though he knew that was the source of his fears. He could almost hear your voice ringing in his head; ‘’I- No.‘’ It was a terrible mixture of shock, awkwardness and disgust. Disgusted with him, disgusted with the idea he thought he had a chance.

What if you did say no? What would his life be without you?

He pushed it down, his chest heaving with a deep breath.

You weren’t like that, he knew. You were polite, no. That wasn’t correct. You were lovely, perfect even. In his eyes you were. You were the one who supported him through his times as cardinal, his facial surgery, his ascension to papa, the fuckload of paperwork that only ever seemed to grow. You were there, and you were here now.

And he loved you.

He loved you more than anything in this world. More than performing, more than the whole ministry, more than his religion, more than life itself. He’d drop anything and everything if it meant spending forever with you, both here, in life, and in whatever you’d face together afterward.

Copia pushed the door to the hall open, shooting a glance around to check for any siblings; usually, not many walked the hall near the papal chamber, but he just wanted to be sure, an interaction about work in the possibly final moments of happiness and light in his life was the last thing he needed.

The door to the front steps of the Abbey came into view soon, and as he pushed open the heavy doors he let out a sigh of relief to see you weren’t waiting for him yet - even if he was at least fifteen minutes early. He fixed his gloves, reaching into his pocket to fish out his phone, checking frantically for any text that you might cancel, that you might-

A pair of hands snaked onto his broad shoulders from behind him and he jerked, his phone plummeting to the ground when he stiffened. Relaxation was almost immediate as soon as he heard your endearing giggle, the same giggle that never failed to bring a stupid blush to his face, even now, even though he’s heard it countless times. ‘’Scared ya?’’ You hummed, moving your way to stand in front of him. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and nuzzling the tip of your nose to his. ’’Dolcezza! You’re early.’’

‘’So are you.’’ You beamed, pecking a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, then the tip of his nose. He wore the biggest, silliest grin ever, his worries quickly forgotten with you around. ‘’Well, I couldn’t wait. I have been looking forward to this evening all day, Tesoro.’’ He explained, his eyes closing and his body melting into your kisses.’’nervous or something?’’ you teased, raising your hands to smooth again over his shoulders before running one through his thick, soft hair. He squinted a playful challenge at you.‘’Not at all. Shall we head off, then?’’ You nodded, and Copia offered you his arm to walk you toward his car. He had specifically not wanted a ghoul to drive you both; he wanted this to be special, something separate from the ministry. He wasn’t Papa with you, he was Copia, just Copia; the love of your life and your best friend. 

Placing your hand in the crook of his arm, you gave him a small grin. ‘’Lead the way, good sir.’’  

He walked you to his car, parked somewhere further down the large parking lot, sharing words about the day you’d had. His hand came to cover yours folded in his elbow. Quickly enough the white LeSabre came into view, and as soon as you reached it Copia pranced with you to the passenger side to hold the door for you with an over dramatic bow, lifting his head to flash you that winning smile of his. There were a couple of siblings nearby, along with a ghoul who must have driven them into town. They shot you both glances, giggling at their papas theatrics. 

Your door shut and Copia pranced around to the drivers side of the car, hopping in and starting it up. He rummaged through his glove box for a brief moment to find a nice CD to play, and settled on some old Italian love songs. He was humming along by the time the car hit the main road; you always loved how he looked so attentive when he drove, checking his mirrors, eyes wide yet so calm, a couple of stray strands of hair flailing around with the wind.

You both settled on a comfortable silence after a while of driving till his hand came to rest on your thigh, thumb tracing over the material that covered it. His hand moved up and down, caressing the flesh there. The CD played a steady tune still, and, one hand on the wheel, Copia looked over to you. You could see the hearts dancing in his eyes as his adoring gaze swept over your seemingly perfect features, your nose, your beautiful eyes, your soft lips.. He had to pry his gaze away from you with quite a lot of effort to look back at the road, a dumb little grin pulled at his lips. ‘’Almost there, Amore.’’ He hummed, giving the plush of your thigh a gentle squeeze, followed by some endearing little pats. He slowly moved his hand back to the wheel, eyes switching in favor of glancing at you every now and again. He had to focus or he might crash the car.

He parked the car into a small lot at the side of an empty road, the place you had settled for your date; a small pumpkin patch. Copia knew you loved October. The rain, the sun finally setting a bit later, the pretty orange hued leaves where they slowly drifted to cover the grounds, and most of all Halloween. You loved seeing the kids in the ministry dress up as ghouls and get their faces painted like their papas, you loved the nice atmosphere and of course the scary movies. Fall was your favorite season, and he wanted to make this as special for you as he could.

The sky was mostly dark and cloudy, but there were a few narrow holes that allowed the sun to shine through, giving the dark clouds pretty shades of yellow and orange. His fingers trailed down your arm to find your hand, twining your fingers together and leading you into the patch, watching you as you giggled and picked up little pumpkins, declaring you’d name this one some name he couldn’t remember, saying that one could look cute on his desk for company. He just trailed next to you like a lost puppy, mindlessly agreeing with what you were saying.

His heart was pounding as you walked and walked you unknowingly let him to the place he’d planned this all to happen. 

Surely enough, as you walked the broad path you came to a little clearing, a neat line of carved pumpkins to the left of you. You were amazed for a moment by a large pumpkin in the complete opposite direction until you spotted the row of four, nearly identical ones that looked to be carved with much care. The carving wasn’t perfect, but you could see someone tried their absolute best. It was only when you read what was carved, one word per pumpkin, that you let out a giggle. How cute! 

You heard shuffling behind you, and you turned to face Copia. You looked straight over his head, confused until your eyes flicked downward. What was he doing down there? It clicked as soon as you saw him opening a small, black box, his eyes nervously flicking all over your face. You looked back over your shoulder at the message written out over the pumpkins.

Will You Marry Me?

You looked back at Copia, back at the message, then back to Copia. A hand covered your mouth, tears pricking at your eyes as you looked at the small Silver ring and the little Diamond fancily secured in the middle. All you could do was nod your head yes frantically, and he took the ring out of the box, still down on one knee, and slid it onto your finger gently. You met his eyes just as he was getting up, glistening with his own tears, too, and you wrapped your arms around him. Maybe a little too hard.. You both tumbled to the ground, Copia landing with a painful ‘’Uff!’’ on his back, you following suit right on top of him. It wasn’t the most comfortable position to lay in, especially on the hardened dirt but you didn’t care. Your hair curtained around your face, arms wrapped around his waist and your legs between his. He looked at you, doe eyed and dazed from his fall and the mere situation playing out right now. You surged forward and kissed him, urgent but slow and it took him a moment to regain control over his body. He propped himself up heavily on his elbows to support the both of you, one hand moving your hair out of your face and cupping your cheek as he moved his lips against yours. His chest felt warm and there were butterflies fluttering around in his belly like he was some lovesick fool. Perhaps he was.

Finally breaking the kiss for air, you rested your forehead to his, the biggest beaming smile playing at both your and his kiss-swollen lips. ‘’Well?’’ he squeaked, still lost for air.

‘’Absolutely yes, Copia. Yes, yes, yes!’’ you giggled, sitting up and straddling his hips so he could sit up too. Once he straightened he kissed you again, and you looped your arms around his shoulders. He deepened the kiss, his tongue urgently prodding at you for entrance, his hands caressing wherever he could.

‘’Ti amo, Cara mia.’’ he mumbled against your lips before pulling back farther. ‘’I always thought Fiancé sounded better than girlfriend, anyway.’’ He pecked the corner of your mouth again before shooting you a wink. ‘’Or should I say Fearancé..’’

You couldn’t help rolling your eyes at his stupid pun, lightly smacking his chest. ‘’Shut up and kiss me again, idiot.’’

A/N: I loved this request! Working on the other ones I got sent in as we speak, they'll be shorter but I'll try to get them finished in the coming days.

Crediting: @ramblingoak for the great title & @delullu for the amazing 'Fearance' pun!

Taglist: @sweatandwoe @copias-girl @papasmicstand @lightbluuestars @random-bl-fan @dearlymrme @thew0man

(Want to be added or removed from/to the taglist? Send an ask or dm!)

[billpottsismygf]

Space Babies! Weird episode, but it had a charm. I had already prepared myself for the fact that RTD's era was notoriously camp and weird, and that I would for the first time be experiencing new episodes by him as an adult rather than as a 9-13 year-old, so it's not news to me that there would be some campy nonsense with a deeper message, and that this might be more jarring than I'm used to. The deeper themes were really thrown out (refugees, anti-abortion hypocrisy, genocide, capitalism) without being dwelt on, but that's not necessarily a problem.

The babies themselves were... a little unnerving? The mouth movements were quite uncanny, along with their voices and the general "I love you, Ruby!" of it all. I've just now made the connection that the latter puts me in mind of adverts for baby dolls.

The gunky snot monster felt very early 2000s British children's TV. If you weren't there for that, just know there was so much slime; think Slitheen exploding. I am very glad it got rescued. Nice message with the Doctor not usually running from things just because they look scary and, even though this is a creature specifically manufactured to be scary, it still deserves a shot at life.

It feels like a strange story to start with because I suspect it'll have mixed reviews. I would think you'd want a slightly more solid episode to draw people in with. Anyway, there was still a lot of thought put into making this a proper jumping off point with all its Doctor Who 101 stuff. Funny for a long-time viewer hearing it all rattled off in record time, but important to establish for new people, and I do think it's important for the show to remain accessible to people who haven't been obsessing over it for twenty years or more.

As a jumping off point, it very specifically reminded me of The End of the World. There's the big observation deck on a space station where the new companion, in her second episode and first off-world adventure, gets her phone updated so she can call her mum, in particular. The parallels to Rose are interesting, especially with the lecture the Doctor gives Ruby about how they can't travel back to meet her missing parent(s).

Speaking of that, there's some intrigue there with the snow appearing and the memory changing. I didn't like the Doctor doing a DNA scan of Ruby without her knowledge. It feels very 11th Doctor, especially when he literally scanned Amy and withheld medical information, but also the way he treated all his female companions as mystery boxes to solve without telling them. I guess we'll see what that's all about at a later point.

I'm still not completely sold on Millie Gibson, but Ncuti Gatwa is wonderful, and I do really appreciate their chemistry.

Small things:

Jocelyn was a good character, and the Nan-E filter made me laugh several times.

That place name before the Doctor turned the translation circuits off was absolutely not in English. Slightly weird way to phrase that line if it's going to be called Pacifico del Rio.

This is a very early point in the series for Ruby to get a TARDIS key! We're really speedrunning the usual steps here.

[pearls-and-vignettes]

Spaceway 70 - Pablo

The Marlin heaves out of the darkened dock, whining with unwarmed engines. A simple objective:

- Assess damages, neutralize threats.

I've done it a million times before. Come to think of it,—

Red lights blare outside and the station's distress call is picked up by the radio. I fly around the cylindrical body—perform a systematic scan. How would the incident report be written?

- Upper hull damaged in a hit-and-run bombing; station status unknown.

- Soldier casualties: ...

Soldiers. They never chose to lay down their lives—to fight for an uncaring ruler—not them.

- Assailant(s): Unknown vessel, presumed solitary. Heat signature detected, actively pursuing.

Ambiguous language. Open to litigation. Sarge would be sad.

- Disregard previous entry. Chasing assailant via engine heat; infrared reading with 0.87 certainty. Monitoring radar.

- Radar confirms a small ship. Moving at 75% of own velocity. Distance 2000 mi.

-

-

- 1500.

-

-

- Approaching civilian zone

-

-

- 1000.

-

-

- 500.

-

- 250.

-

- 175.

-

- 100.

- 50.

- 25.

- Contact.

They pull up and to the left, attempting to get above and behind me, though it's too little, too late.

- Assailant neutralized with ballistics. Assumed to have hit engine.

- Upon visual examination, there appears to have been no pilot. Control is either automated or remote. No outstanding radio frequency detected.

Darn...

Out and ahead of me are markers indicating a commercial route. Safe for traders.

A transponder on one of the markers pings my ship. Something about remaining in place, a unit arriving soon. I don't make it a good hundred miles before a squad comes in with weapons hot.

I dodge a few shots and they graze me with a laser. I'm not about to make war with a whole task force.

The Marlin is a ship of esoteric construction. It has a hull constructed for incredibly heavy salvos—granted you have enough sealant [1] aboard. It comes with a cloak [2], more a scrambler than anything, which uses up insane amounts of power, and an EM pulse [3] which likewise drains my batteries. It's a perfect ship for an early retirement [4], as long as my encounters are few and far between.

With the push of a fader I turn my radio into a tool of war, creating a streak of white along their IR imager and making their radar unusable. Similarly, with a press of a button the magnetron pulses on, disabling their steering and warming up their cabins.

- Three combatants neutralized; nonlethal means

Two more pull down and in front, shooting and missing. I pull up and turn around, hoping to hit them with more microwaves.

< -#- VACDETEC V1.4 -#- >

< ALARM >

<HULL BREACH | d.0s>

<HULL BREACH | d.1s>

<HULL BREACH | d.2s>

I begin to sweat as the laser weapon dissipates as heat into my cockpit.

< HULL SEALED >

< SEALANT AT 25% >

I need to leave.

I reach up to grab a solar compass [5] and scribble my heading onto the cockpit glass.

- Taking extratactical measures: Magnetron shielding angle set to 175.8 degrees

< ## Are you sure? Use of EMP with current settings may cause systems to misbehave. ## >

[ YES ]

Navigation goes dark as two more ships behind me lose steering. I launch a wide-range RF jammer [6] and a hot net [7]. I cut my engines and seal the exhaust [8].

This is a special dance they taught us in Academy; " . . . each ship has its own precise limits, though with them come potential," they had us memorize old literature, "that is why you must know yours more intimately than the body of your lover . . . " I positioned one hand over the exhaust control and another over the ignition. Two seconds, three seconds, and

< -#- SHELL -#- >

< ALARM >

<ENGINE OVERHEAT>

The ship rattles as I rocket dead ahead in the direction of home. Another alarm blares on my monitor,

<CHECK ENGINE>

A few milliseconds too late. I hear a faint whisper—a hiss—join the chorus of the Marlin's song. I'm sorry. I'll fix it soon. It'll be ok.

" . . . for each time you take up the helm, you partake in a romance far more real than any other, for no other can see the terror

of a deprivation so terrible, or a death so swift."

[1]: A chemical formulation which undergoes an extremely exothermic reaction when exposed to the vacuum of space. Akin to tire sealant from when vulcanized rubber was used for land vehicles.

[2]: A system consisting of telescoping antennae and an ultra-high amplitude RF generator. Hides a ship's exact location within a much broader, irregular radio signature.

[3]: A high-powered magnetron capable of producing strong microwaves with multiple miles of range. Temporarily scrambles navigation systems, causing affected ships to veer off-course.

[4]: I can't keep doing this

[5]: An indicator which points in the direction of the closest star, when properly calibrated. Detects the unique products of nuclear fusion.

[6]: Akin to the cloak, a disposable projectile which blanks out vast swathes of a ship's radio imager.

[7]: A large, mechanized retroreflector which concentrates heat from all directions, and shoots it back at the viewer, making infrared imaging of a ship nearly impossible.

[8]: In reference to a mechanism which seals the exhaust vents of the Marlin. This turns the entirety of the engine tract into a bomb. A stupid idea if held closed for more than a few seconds.

[centrally-unplanned]

FLCLick Noise - Archival Scan

We should be a go!

[Internet Archive Link]

FLCLick Noise is a book published in 2010 that is a deep dive into the production of and creative influences that went into the 2000 anime FLCL by Studio GAINAX. Framed as a conversation between FLCL director and series lead Kazuya Tsurumaki, and FLCL character designer Yoshiyuki Sadamoto, the two creatives watch the show together and record their thoughts episode-by-episode, alongside a prologue and a “bonus track”. It is in Japanese, with primarily text and screenshots from the show for use as conversational reference, though there is some art as well (almost all of which is available elsewhere).

FLCL is pretty infamous as a show for its free-wheeling compositional style and loose production process; everyone involved was able to throw in visual ideas, dialogue, plot concepts, and so on. Additionally, FLCL slots pretty clearly into GAINAX’s “Otaku commentary” oeuvre - it is very much anime, *extremely* anime, it would be ludicrous to suggest otherwise; but in addition to being anime it was also a vehicle for the creative team to put in ideas and influences that they believed the anime industry was not utilizing at the time, such as its rock-album concept soundtrack or its josei/seinen manga inspired-character designs.

It is this backdrop that makes a book like FLCLick Noise simultaneously more valuable for understanding FLCL than most other shows, and even possible to exist in the first place. Much of it is fun asides, many of the creative decisions are personal whims, but there is so much to those whims that it is worth reading a book about them. If you want to answer the question “why does FLCL exist the way that it does”, this book will answer that question in more detail than any other source will.

Alas this is a complex and large book - I will aim to translate it someday, but I cannot guarantee neither the timeline nor the quality of that translation as I am by no means a professional in that regard. If you want to get a sample of what the book contains, anime-youtuber-extraordinaire Hazel quasi-coincidentally just released a video essay on FLCL that has an entire section on this book and its contents (I learned of this book from her tweeting about it during research for the video, so the timeline is not pure kismet). If you want the highlights and so much more, it is an amazing video. Meanwhile, I do hope to post a “raw text” version of the different sections somewhat soon, to assist those who do want to read it themselves and would find that would help with the translation.

As always, I hope this is a valuable addition to the ‘akashic record’ of 90’s-era anime history, and gives something special to the FLCL-heads out there like me.

(I'll tag @flclarchives for the two-for-one this week, if they don't mind! And I apologize for the scan quality here - I wanted to do it non-destructively, as this is not a large print run book, which meant my typical flatbed was a no go and the new overhead setup I used was a comedy of errors. Fortunately this is a book about reading text, and despite the errors it's all perfectly readable.)

[aloysiavirgata]

Dancing that ISNT the PMP scene. Fucking love you gorgeous. ❤️❤️❤️

3 AM finds him waking up stiff and disoriented in the vinyl chair of her hospital room, his feet propped on an upside-down plastic wastebasket. His tie is hanging from the IV pole.

Mulder tests his joints, grimaces at the left shoulder. He’d overstretched it at the pool, shredding 2000 meters in under 30 minutes. He’s been lifting more, been running until he vomits. He doesn’t know if he’s punishing his body for being fit or trying to radiate so much health she’ll absorb it.

Perhaps if it’s the second he’ll need to feed it something other than coffee, Diet Coke, and sunflower seeds. Must be the first.

He examines her narrow form in the bruised light. Scully’s breath snuffles a bit at the cannula and he scans for blood at it but sees none. Her cheekbones curve resolutely past her patrician nose, down to her full, dry lips. There is a small tin of Smith’s Rosebud Salve on the fake wood nightstand. He resists the urge to rub a layer over them. He resists the urge to kiss her beautiful, cracked mouth.

Mulder sighs a bit, runs a finger around the back of his collar. She looks warm to him, looks safe and cared for and utterly beyond his ability to be of use. But he stays anyway, like one of those dogs that sleeps at the grave of its master.

He roams past the nurse’s station, where Jane and Esther give him sympathetic looks. They aren’t supposed to let him sleep in Scully’s room, but Esther is from Yorkshire and calls him lamb and duck and love, and he’s pretty sure he could get the lithe Jane in bed if he wanted to.

He’s drowned his sorrows in lanky brunettes before though, and it never quite took. Turns out he’s a man for dainty gingers.

The radio at the nurse’s station plays “Carolina In My Mind” and he hums along softly, making a styrofoam cup of tea. His father was happy in Raleigh. He was too, as much as he was happy anywhere. He thinks he might move down when Scully goes into the ground, a truth he can only admit at 3 AM. At all other times he will save her.

“Nah then, duck,” Esther says. “Tea from the machine, yer daft ‘apeth, when I’ve a proper kettle ‘ere? ‘Ow’s thy lass?”

He shrugs, smiles vaguely. Jane smiles back. Vaguely.

Mulder presses his head to the faded green wall as his tea steeps. It’ll be terrible, but strong. That’s good enough for him.

He hears a soft shuffling and looks up.

Scully in her spotless white robe and soft slippers, Scully like a Willow Ptarmigan approaching winter. The skin around her eyes is the delicate color of sublimated iodine.

“Scully,” he says, at a loss. She is beautiful in the way of alabaster vases, of all things that can shatter.

She yawns, lips shiny with the salve. Her hands are very thin when she covers her mouth. “Wonderful Tonight” begins on the radio now.

Esther smiles, looks away. Jane checks her watch and walks down the opposite corridor.

“Tea?” Scully says. “That’s more my brand. Why are you still here?”

He gulps the bitter brew. Winces. “I fell asleep,” he says, which is an answer but no answer at all.

“Mmm,” Scully says. She prepares herself some tea as well. Her white hands on the cup, her lower lip snagged between her teeth.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” Mulder says.

“You didn’t. I just woke up. I do that a lot. My circadian rhythm…”

They don’t talk about her suprachiasmatic nucleus of the hypothalamus deep within her brain. Of what it might mean if it’s off kilter.

“I was noisy,” Mulder lies, looking at her nose again. He moves like a cat in her room. Like a thief in the night. “Banged into the bed.”

Scully smiles serenely. “It’s all right.”

Jane stalking the perimeter, Jane frowning at her clipboard.

The moon out the window like a scythe in the dark.

He loves her, does she know? Does he know what he would do to save her and how he’d do it and that he’d swim through blood and blood and blood for her, 2000 meters and back again in a heartbeat?

Scully puts her tea down, Scully looks at him with her late summer eyes in this month of her birth. Scully is dying.

On the radio, The Beatles begin “Let It Be,” and what the fuck, he draws her in, her tousled hair and fluffy robe and her rattan ribs.

“Mulder,” she says, peering up. She clutches his left hand with the pale garden spider of her right.

He twirls her beneath the fluorescent lights. He kisses her her forehead because if he kisses her mouth like he wants to she will die.

Jane does another lap and Esther pretends to read a chart and Scully murmurs along with Paul McCartney.

Mulder watches the flat light bounce off her hair, watches her sway, watches her smile for a moment. She tucks her head against his chest as the song ends, doesn’t withdraw.

“Angel Is A Centerfold” begins, which is hardly the mood he wanted, but they both laugh and the scythe of a moon fades away as they sing Na-na, na-na-na-na, Na-na-na, na-na-na-na in something like harmony.

He doesn’t know what song is next, but he holds her through it and the next one and a few more and Esther and Jane are replaced and the sun begins to burn the blackness away and Scully is warm and awake and alive in his arms for at least another day.

[elendsessor]

i normally don’t talk about fanfics vs canon but ngl fanfics are so good at filling in gaps or giving new context or heck even improving on elements. i mean yeah duh but there’s occasionally one fic that i come across that just makes me actually think about where canon fumbles.

while i love seeing the og gang again, they don’t really add much outside of beat and neku. and while i also really love how beat gets a lot more time to shine and his relationship with neku (as a longtime beatneku enjoyer i appreciated the food), the fact that nothing is brought into question about neku’s clear character shift puzzles me.

of course we don’t know everything about what life was like before neku got killed again or what being in an erased shinjuku does to a guy but what we do know is that 1. coco was the only person who could interact with him and 2. neku seems to have come out a bit scarred, to say the least. yes, at the end of twewy, neku is a lot more open and understanding. yes, people do change overtime. however, his character shift was actually pretty drastic. at least he kept some of his snark and angsty 2000s teen aura in a new day. in neo, though, he mellowed out a lot. he’s more soft spoken and talks like a war vet. i’d argue he even shows a bit of trauma as, when scanning every single person in shibuya during neo’s climax, he does seem incredibly pained. yeah i get scanning literally everyone would be painful but it definitely has some added depth considering where he’d been for three goddamn years plus just the sequence in general seeming to be really draining.

there isn’t much we know about shinjuku, but in the connections thing, there is this one npc who is heavily implied to be what remains of some girl, be it just her soul or simply thoughts. it’s an incredibly minor detail but my best guess is that all that does exist of shinjuku are the thoughts of the erased trapped in some sort of purgatory. a purgatory neku was in. and i imagine that’s part of what made him so fucked up mentally.

yet aside from members of the og gang going “oh hey neku’s back we missed you” and some extra stuff with beat, everything else is sorta just glossed over. neku’s kinda just some mentor for the wicked twisters which is cool but doesn’t highlight nearly enough of who he is as a character and how his experiences affected him.

that’s why i really liked running across a post canon fic that explores that aftermath and acknowledges the change??? the fic in question is called flowers for the dead (please hear me out) by nagiru on ao3 (content warning it does have some implied/referenced suicide) and god i recommend it to hell and back please give it a read. would love to see more discussion or interpretations of neku’s character shift :D

[mzminola]

Trying to figure out why the fandom meme that Tim is misogynistic bothers me so much, beyond my usual kneejerk response to perceived inaccuracy, and I think the key is that it feels like fandom is lying to me.

Specifically, lying about nearly all the other characters.

That I am being taunted with some theoretical Less Sexist 90′s Comics that don’t actually exist.

Sexism is one of the reasons that I never bothered to seek out superhero comics when younger. Our town didn’t have a comics shop, which sure put a damper on it, but I didn’t bother looking for collected volumes when venturing into regular bookstores, or the occasional trip out of town to places with huge bookstores. I flipped through enough and heard enough chatter to know I didn’t want to put up with the sexism. Scans Daily on Livejournal sure had plenty of supporting examples.

Reading 1990′s & early 2000′s comics now, I can confirm this was the right choice on younger me’s part. There is a lot of sexism in that era, and unlike with prose books by a singular author, it’s much harder to ditch wholesale. I’ve got a lot more analytical reading under my belt now, so it’s easier to roll my eyes at the bullshit and focus on what is enjoyable than it used to be. From the later 2010′s comics I found at the library, things are improving, though still stumbling.

So yeah, Tim does sometimes say sexist crap. But as I devour comic after comic, so far, he isn’t saying or doing anything more sexist, more frequently, than any other character, including the gals. It’s almost like it’s a writing problem, not a character problem.

As far as I can tell, from what I’ve read, which includes all of Batgirl 2000, Young Justice 1998, and nearly half of Robin 1993, Tim is less sexist than the adult men he’s surrounded by, and no few of his fellow teenage boy heroes.

Maybe I’m missing something! But gender doesn’t seem to come into his treatment of Gotham vigilantes and YJ teammates? The most it comes up with his civilian peers is that, typical for the time period, girls are treated by the narrative & characters as potential romantic options and boys aren’t? Tim talks to Callie the same way he talks to Ives & Hudman? He and Ariana both make relationship mistakes, but in ways that are pretty normal for a 13-14 year old’s first romance?

So when the fandom keeps making ‘misogyny’ Tim’s distinguishing traits from the other Bats, or other YJ members or Titans, it implies that reading comics focused on other characters would have less sexism, but when I do read other comics, that’s not fucking TRUE.

Where are these magical less sexist Bat comics?

Who are these heroes fandom claims are less misogynistic?

Because it’s not Nightwing. It’s not anything Bruce takes center stage in. Barbara is fine in Batgirl 2000, but in other comics she’s written as cattily jealous and tears into other women. It’s not Stephanie, as we saw with Batgirl 2009′s treatment of Jordanna Spence.

Batgirl 2000 does pretty good, but that’s the only one I can think of, and fandom singling out Tim makes it sound like it should be all of the others.

Fandom likes to say Jason drinks his Respect Women Juice, but when I read Under the Red Hood and Lost Days, they felt about the same level as Tim’s comics. And I keep seeing examples from Jason’s Robin days of him admiring women or learning from them or teaming up, but I also get that from Tim’s comics.

Before he even had a long running solo, Tim’s Robin mini’s got a crossover with Huntress, in which he respects both her skills and her secrets, and argues with her about as much as he does with Bruce. Tim supports Cassie winning leadership of Young Justice, he supports Cissie’s decision to do what she felt was most responsible. He apologizes for avoiding Cass after finding her intimidating and goes on to work well with her.

I like Tim. I’m mostly enjoying his comics. They’ve got less sexism than I expected of the era they’re written in.

And I hate that fandom’s running meme about him makes it feel like everyone else is making a joke at my expense.

[ponds-of-ink]

Short Springtrap And OC Drabble: “A Pack of Springs”

Blame one particular thing I read from @spaciebabie and it invigorating the writing part of my mind. Again.

At least there’s no explosions this time.

(There may be a part two if anyone wants?)

-

Springtrap stood nearby the office window. It was only a couple of minutes before the guard clocked in for the night. His undead heart was pounding, but not for the usual reasons.

You see, this guard was the coolest kid on the block.. At least, in his mind. Streaks of color against some naturally-hued hair. A work outfit fully customized with patches and other interesting details. All wrapped up with the most “chill” attitude he had ever witnessed. If one had to sum up this soul for him, it would be the punk look of the 1980s somehow paired with this… Scene?… 2000s Gothic?… aesthetic. And it captivated him.

Maybe a bit too much, if he was being honest. What with all the catalog cutouts scattered around his room.. And the hours he spent trying to figure out how to even start dressing properly again..

But, hey, at least the feeling was (mostly) mutual. The guard dug him and he dug back. The cat and mouse stuff was merely a running gag at this point.

Unfortunately, it was a performance that they weren’t going to put on tonight. Springtrap had something more… interesting in mind. A little idea he wanted to test the waters on. And, to pull this off, he had to ask the one fashion expert in this building a very simple question.

The office clock rang. Springtrap jolted out of his self-reflecting. He put himself into his usual “threatening” posture and waited. It was only a matter of time now— And he honestly couldn’t wait.

The guard, meanwhile, clocked in at the lobby. It was a cold and cloudy midnight, which made things extra spooky. “Heh, this is my kinda night,” the unknowing figure thought as a grin crept in. “Hope Spring’s ready to see me beat him for the third time in a row.”

Combat boots thumped down the long hallway. Springtrap’s arms shook in spite of himself. It was just a simple question. He had no need to panic.

Thankfully for him, the guard noticed very quickly. “Oh, hey, Spring,” came the casual response after the initial jump of shock. “Didn’t think you’d be here.”

Springtrap placed an arm against the wall. Oh, he was just hanging around. Nothing wrong here.

The guard gave a very brief scan up and down. Aside from the nervous “grin” and a magazine in one of his hands, there wasn’t anything really wrong with him. “Well, I’ll let you get to reading,” the guard concluded, swerving into the main office. “Just come in if you need anything.”

Springtrap signaled “Will do”. The instinct to internally kick himself was strong, but this mishap did provide him an opportunity. He skimmed through the magazine again. Just one more refresher to get his mind back on track.

The guard, meanwhile, just went about the usual routine. Boot up the security system, check the cameras, and double-check Springtrap on occasion. Simple as that.

Minutes went by for both of them. Spring still read through his catalog while the guard kept the peace. Tension started to swirl, though the guard wasn’t sure why. He was just reading a book! There’s nothing stressful about looking at some fashion stuff while on “break”!

Heavy footsteps soon lumbered into the main office. A light, papery thump hit the top of the guard’s desk. The guard peered beside the monitor. “What’s up, Spring?” the guard asked, sliding over a notebook and pen. “You seem kinda antsy tonight. You good?”

Springtrap instinctively took up the notebook and pen. His handwriting was even shakier than usual, but he let the guard see it anyway. “I was thinking about trying something new,” he jotted down. “Something I think you would like, Axel.”

Axel raised an eyebrow. “Something you think I would like?” she asked, placing her elbow on the table as she leaned forward. “What’s even better than playing hide and seek with you?”

Springtrap’s good ear raised. A human-like gleam entered into his eyes. He lifted the notebook from the desk and carefully slid the catalog forward. A few scribbles later, he gestured to one sentence at the bottom of his notes: “Look in there.”

Not knowing what else to do, Axel followed his instructions. She first looked at the table of contents, which already had a few pages underlined. Tops, Overcoats, Accessories.. All basic stuff.

Well, if you want to call any of the stuff from a premiere “gothic” fashion line ‘basic’.

Regardless, Axel read through each marker-circled item. Mentally taking in any scribbled-down notes that Spring may have left. A cool patterned shirt here, a funky two-tone vest here, a crop top… Several places, actually. Even with page references on what to pair each one with. Come to think of it, all of the selections had some sort of cross-reference with something else. “He really put some thought into this,” Axel thought, a smile growing the more she flipped back and forth. “He’s even trying make outfits!”

But even with this sense of pride, that sense of tension gnawed at her core. It didn’t help that all the undershirt sizes he circled didn’t match his size. “Unless he’s thinking about me getting these, I don’t think these’ll work,” she said in her head, biting the corner of her lip. “Which is a bummer, ‘cause I really like these! They’d look so good on him!”

After a couple more minutes of digging through the rabbit’s “wishlist”, Axel set down the magazine. “Pretty good picks, Spring,” she said casually, leaning back in her seat. “But I gotta ask: Why’d ya make the undershirts so small? I mean, the bigger crop-tops could look good on top of ‘em, but… Wouldn’t the undershirt be too tight?”

Springtrap halted his multi-page outline. He flipped to an empty page and started writing again. After a few seconds, he showed her the answer: “Not if you’re planning on ‘slimming down’.”

Axel tilted her head. “‘Slimming down’?” she repeated, her posture shifting to a more serious position. “Ya mean, like, getting a new torso piece?”

Springtrap nodded, then eagerly jotted down something else. He spun the notebook around with a proud grin. “Yes!” it read, alongside a semicolon and a capital D. “As a matter of fact, I’m in talks with a technician about getting a different build altogether. It may make me look broader in the shoulders, but I believe the ‘six-pack’ will be worth it.”

All of Axel’s dread overloaded into outright fear. Her heavy shudder nearly made her convulse. Nausea overrode her entire body. The mental image of this zombie rabbit having the buffest body in the crew just… Didn’t sit right. It felt wrong, even if he was just a weird robot guy.

Thankfully, she did manage to sputter out something. “Y-You’re joking, right?” she questioned, using the desk to steady her nerves. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

Springtrap’s good ear drooped. He hastily wrote his response. “I’m not,” he answered. “But I did need to run all of this by you first. Mainly for fashion concerns.”

The words provided a little comfort to the rattled guard. Okay, good. Maybe he could be reasoned with. “Your outfits are fine, my man,” she stammered out, steadying her breathing. “Don’t sweat it there. My main deal is this ‘s-six pack’ thing. Just… why?? Who put the idea into your head that you couldn’t pull off these looks now?”

It was Springtrap’s turn to tilt his head. “Nobody suggested it to me,” he ‘replied’, underlining the word multiple times for emphasis. “I just thought that my current shape couldn’t ’pull off’ some of these, that’s all.”

Axel grit her teeth. “So you took one look at these guys by yourself and said ‘yeah that’s what my body needs to look like’?” she asked, her face burning bright red. “Is that what I’m getting at here?”

A simple “Yes” was all Springtrap wrote.

The poor woman slammed her head on the desk. She stifled the urge to scream in rage. “Springs, my guy,” she said after a minute of silence, raising her head. “I know you’re a robot.. zombie… bunny, but listen ta me: You already look cool enough. You already are cool enough. Just keep scaring me like you usually do and you’ll be fine.”

Springtrap placed a hand to his waist. He glanced at it before writing with his other hand. “I appreciate your compliments,” he ‘added’. “But ‘hear’ me out: Can you actually picture someone with my ‘chubby’ build wearing things like what I’ve shown you?” He then stood up straighter, making sure he somehow didn’t make himself look “thinner”.

Axel, try as she might, now pictured Springtrap in one of those outfit combos. And, to be quite honest, it made her face burn for an entirely different reason than before. “I mean, I can see you in ‘em clear as day,” she laughed sheepishly, covering her eyes (as if that would help). “Hey, maybe you’d win that bunny wife of yours back if…” Her voice broke into a sincere giggling fit, making her unable to finish her sentence.

A quiet, hoarse chuckle emitted from Springtrap’s voice-box. “While I do still have my apprehensions,” he ‘continued’ after a pause, “I suppose I’ll hold off. Don’t wait to make you nauseous every time I show up behind that window, after all.”

“Thanks, my guy,” Axel responded, her voice weakening with relief. “Just, uh, let me know if you do have any problems trying to fit stuff. I know a guy who works on mascot costumes for fun, so he knows how to make outfits for animatronics.”

“I will keep your friend in mind,” Springtrap ‘answered’, his handwriting now more loose and stable. “Thank you for all of your advice.”

“No problem,” Axel grinned as she returned to leaning back in her chair. “Glad I got the chance to say something before somebody tore out that torso piece. It’d be an absolute bummer if the world lost you rocking that ‘bod.”

Springtrap put down the pen. Another hoarse chuckle emitted from his throat. Given how confident Axel sounded, maybe it would be a shame.

But, as the term “rocking” invited an opportunity for fooling around, he rose up to full standing height.. Then placed his hands on his sides. He assumed his saddest ‘pout’ and swung his hips a little. Almost as if he was saying: “But my body doesn’t just rock. It has rolls too.”

Axel laughed in spite of herself. “Okay, now you’re just messing with me,” she smiled, feeling her face flush a little. “Go do your ‘sad’ dance moves somewhere else, ya big lug. We’ll pick this topic up some other time.”

Springtrap slumped his shoulders dramatically. He rolled his eyes as he picked up his catalog. With a final wave, he vanished behind the doorway… Before “sprinting” back down the hallway with the dumbest smile. That last pun may not have been his best work, but Axel’s suggestion may have just given him an idea for tonight’s game. If she wants to be that determined to prove her claims about him, he’ll have to work to dispute it. And that tip about dancing may have just given him an edge in that debate..

[lesliesknopes]

for @abbottwritersclub first #1 prompt "I'm sorry. What did you do?"

Jinx

3.2k words, rated g. janine/gregory

You can also read this on ao3 here

Janine slammed the car door shut and hurried towards her favourite coffee shop only to find a large piece of paper taped to the front window of the store. As she got closer, she could make out the words ‘closed for water maintenance’ and internally groaned. It was just her luck that the shop that was a vital part of her early morning routine was shut. There was no way in hell that she would be able to make it through the morning without her cup of extra strong coffee (the machine at school was never able to achieve anything near strong enough for her liking).

She took a step back and tried to calm her breathing because she could do this.

It was an easy fix.

There were plenty of coffee shops in the area and surely one of them could get her order to the correct strength.

She began to walk down the street, peering in the windows of all the shops and hoped that something would jump out at her. She didn’t want to get too far away from her car because she could just imagine tripping over a small stone on the pavement and knocking all six coffee cups to the floor.

And that would make her morning even more of a disaster.

About six shops along she came across a white storefront with wildflowers growing out of matching window boxes and above it, a sign was hung up reading 'Eddie’s coffee.' It appeared to be a locally run place, probably owned by a singular family – something she tried to support more than the big chains that usually lined the main street.

She looked up and down the street to see if she had other options but it appeared that this place was going to be her best bet if she didn't want to run the risk of getting to work late.

She had never come down this far before and felt apprehensive when she pushed open the door, causing the bell above her head to jangle like they did in the movies from the 2000s and she couldn't help the thrill of nostalgia that ran through her body. At the sound of the noise the man wiping down the counter paused in his ministrations to look up at her. He was quite a bit taller than her with short dark hair and he wore a white sweater that looked incredibly soft to the touch. She found herself staring at him and only snapped out of it when he spoke.

“What can I do for you today?” He asked, his voice sounding as beautiful as his face looked. It was a low, much lower than Tariq’s but she had to admit it was working for her. Working for her a bit too much.

She rattled off her order as well as Jacob’s, Melissa’s, Barbara’s and a few other teachers' (however she didn't give Ava's order because apparently anything Janine gave her wasn’t up to her standard and she kept pouring it down the sink whenever Janine's back was turned) which she knew off by heart.

“Coming right up.” The man smiled and when he turned around Janine couldn’t help the way her eyes trailed down his body, taking him in. Her eyes snapped up when she realised what she was doing and began to fiddle with her bag, her cheeks suddenly feeling warm because that was not who she was.

When all the drinks were made, he placed them in a cardboard tray and pushed them towards her over the counter towards her. She pulled out her card, scanning the boards behind him to figure out an idea of how much it would add up. After a bit of squinting and closing her eyes and trying to imagine the numbers she gave up. Even though she was a teacher complicated addition in her head was her biggest weakness.

“How much?” She asked.

The man looked nervous for all of a moment, but then it was quickly replaced with a flare of confidence. “On the house.” He replied.

“Oh no, I can’t.” She tried to tap her card on the machine but he shook his head at her.

“Please take them. You can pay next time.”

Janine bit her lip trying to suppress a smile because he was expecting to see her again.

“Thanks… Eddie?” She said recounting the name she read on the sign outside.

“Gregory.” He corrected, “Eddie is the family name. It’s my father’s shop and I’m just making sure everything is ticking over while he’s in hospital.”

Janine nodded, “Well thank you Gregory it was very kind of you and I hope your father recovers soon.”

She picked up the cup that contained her own drink and took a sip, her eyes widening in shock when she tasted the harsh concoction.

It was perfect.

“Well, I will be definitely coming back. How did you make it taste this good?”

Gregory scratched the back of his neck and then tapped the top of the coffee machine as if it was a dog. “This machine has been around since the beginning of time. I’ve never found anything better.”

“Well if I could get one I would fit it in the teacher’s lounge I would be trying to buy it off you."

“So you’re a teacher?” Gregory asked, seeming genuinely interested. It was then that another customer walked in, making their way towards the counter.

“Yes. Second graders. I love it.” The customer, a man in his forties behind her made a disgruntled noise behind her, and she turned around to send him an apologetic look.

“Well, I better get going. Thanks again. Bye, Gregory!” She called over her shoulder, pushing the door open with her back.

"Wait." A voice called after her and she paused. "I didn't get your name."

"Janine. My name is Janine."

"Bye Janine."

When she got back to her car and all the coffees were safely secured, she allowed herself to squeal for a whole two minutes before she set off for the short journey to school, where she was going to act normal.

When she walked into the teachers’ lounge a little while later she placed the coffees onto the table and it was like they were birds the way everyone flocked towards her. Unsurprisingly, Jacob was the fastest and he lifted the coffee up to his eye to examine it closely.

“The usual place was closed so I went to this one and the coffee is even better,” Janine explained.

Melissa took a tentative sip as if she didn’t believe a word she said, and her eyes widened in surprise. Barbara did the same and made a pleased humming noise and muttered under her breath something along the lines of nobody from Bible club could make coffee this good. Janine couldn’t help but feel a burst of pride for Gregory and for herself too since she was the one who discovered the coffee shop, especially as it was such a hit with all her colleagues.

“So how much do we owe you?” Melissa asked as she searched through her bag for where she kept her money.

Janine blushed and looked down at the cups instead of at Melissa. “Um, nothing.”

The room went silent as every head turned towards her, wearing matching degrees of bewilderment on their face.

“I’m sorry what did you do?” Melissa asked.

“Why do you assume I’ve done something?” Janine asked crossing her arms across her chest defiantly.

“Because you always do. It’s like a Janine trait.”

“Nothing he just offered me all the coffees on the house.”

“He? Who’s he?”

“The barista.”

“You have been flirting with a barista and he gave you all these coffees for free?” Melissa looked at her as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

Before she could respond and attempt to defend herself they were interrupted.

“No, he did not.” Janine turned around at the sound of Ava’s voice having not heard or seen her enter the room. “I mean how have you managed that? No offence.”

“Well he was sweet and we spoke for a bit. But it also means you lucky people don’t have to pay.”

She sent them a thumbs up and Ava groaned at the action. “How have you of all people got a cute barista to give you free coffee.”

“How do you know he was cute?”

“How many ugly baristas do you ever see? Zero. Exactly.” Ava leant forwards and snagged the last of the coffees which definitely wasn’t for her.

“That’s not yours.” Janine tried but it was to no avail because Ava wasn’t listening. She had already wandered off to look through the fridge. Janine sighed, she just hoped that whoever that belonged to didn't notice they didn't get their morning coffee.

And then Janine’s day went on as normal or as normal as one can when all you can think about is Gregory Eddie the cute barista who gave you free coffee. It should be strange how much she kept thinking of someone who she had spoken to for such a short while but it felt like there was something different about him. Something that drew her to him, like a moth to a flame.

Maybe it was him that had her offering to buy everyone coffee the following morning even when it was Barbara's turn.

“Janine.” Gregory greeted when he spotted her. Today there was a new winter chill in the air so she was wearing a knitted rainbow cardigan that Jacob gifted her for Christmas.

“Gregory.” Janine returned. “Everyone loved the coffee yesterday.”

Gregory ducked his head, and then looked up to meet her eye, “I’m glad.”

Once again she told him her order, as well as Ava’s, knowing that she would just steal someone else’s if she didn't have her own, and waited for Gregory to prepare her order.

“How was your day yesterday?” He asked as he placed the first coffee down in front of her first and then turned back to the machine.

Janine felt pleasantly surprised at the question and she couldn’t help the honesty that was threatening to spill out, “Not too exciting. Actually, my ex-boyfriend came to pick up the rest of his belongings from my place and then asked if I wanted to get dinner which my colleagues all had opinions on. Then I found out he has a new girlfriend anyway.”

Gregory looked over his shoulder and sent her a sympathetic look. “Jesus. Was it a bad break up?”

Janine shook her head. She had made many mistakes in the past but Tariq wasn’t one. Once upon a time, when she was younger and far more naïve, he was her world and she thought she would spend the rest of her life with him. But now they were at different points in their lives. Wanted different things and even though sometimes she lay awake at night wondering if breaking things off was the right decision because the other side of the bed felt cold, she couldn’t really regret it. Not really.

“So, you’re single now?” he asked. “Not that it matters.” He quickly added when she raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

“Yeah… it feels strange to say it but I’m single and ready to mingle.” She blushed at the saying and fiddled with one of the buttons on her cardigan so she had an excuse not to look at him.

He didn’t say anything else and passed her the tray of coffees over the counter and Janine made sure to have her purse out ready.

“I’m paying today.” She told him.

“I’m not stopping you.” Gregory teased and Janine felt herself blush even more at the comment if that was possible and made sure she didn’t look away from the countertop. “Joking.”

Janine couldn’t help the smile that was threatening to break over her face because god he was a dork. A cute dork though. She paid and then saw the time on the back wall and sighed. She didn't have much time to get to school if she wanted to start making the new display on the corridor outside her classroom.

“Well, I better get going. See you soon Gewgory”

She waved to him and just as she was about to push the door open he called after her. “You look nice today. I like the cardigan.”

The door shut with a clunk and when she finally made her way to her car (she didn’t run in case she knocked coffee everywhere but she still moved as fast as possible) she had to sit there for a few minutes in an attempt to calm down. An excited giggle left her lips and she clamped her mouth shut.

Today was off to a great start.

“So did you ask him out?” Jacob asked, looking up at her expectantly as he took a large gulp of coffee and fell into his seat.

When she placed the coffees on the table, nobody even gave the coffee shop name a second glance. It appeared that this coffee shop was their new place.

Also, it seemed her liking for Gregory hadn’t gone unnoticed either.

“No. I just paid and left.” She savoured the sharp taste, her eyelids fluttering shut.

“Boring.” Ava sighed, “Can’t you at least bang the guy?”

Janine spun around to look at the other woman who just shrugged and took a bite of the protein bar in her hand. Earlier when Janine passed her the cup she had raised a sceptical eyebrow and then had snatched it from her.

“I think what Ava is saying is it’s not every day that a barista gives a whole load of drinks on the house. He probably likes you and it’s kind of obvious with the way you cannot stop smiling whenever you speak about him that the feeling is mutual.”

“No, I mean bang the guy.” Ava piped up and Jacob rolled his eyes.

“He complimented my cardigan,” Janine admitted shyly.

Ava took in her attire and wrinkled her nose, “This old thing? Damn, he must really like you.”

Janine wasn’t sure whether she should take that as a compliment so she decided to ignore her. She wasn’t going to let Ava’s hatred for one of her favourite cardigans ruin her day.

With plenty of encouragement from her colleagues, Janine decided to bite the bullet and ask Gregory out. However, it wasn’t till a week later that she actually got time to visit the coffee shop. As horrible as it was part of her hoped that Gregory’s father was still in hospital so she would get another chance to speak to Gregory.

When Janine pulled up at her usual car parking spot she spotted that her old coffee shop was open but she decided to walk straight past it to 'Eddie’s Coffee.'

When she opened the door, she couldn’t stop the excited skip in her step but she stopped in her tracks when she noticed who was manning the counter.

It wasn’t Gregory.

Instead, an older man took his place. He had a similar face shape only he looked a few good years on him with more profound wrinkles lining his forehead.

“What can I do for you today?” The man asked, smiling at her in a way that showed off his pearly white teeth.

“Oh… I was wondering if Gregory was in.”

Before he had a chance to respond the backdoor to the kitchen swung open and there was the all too familiar deep voice, “Dad?”

Janine couldn’t tear her eyes off his slim figure, today wearing a a dark t-shirt which slung to his chest, and her mouth went dry. There was no reason for him to look that good so early in the morning.

“Gregory I’m just serving a customer I’ll be there in a second.”

Gregory turned to see who it was and she saw the moment it registered with the way his mouth widened into a grin.

“Janine hi.”

Gregory’s dad looked between them, “You two know each other?”

Gregory nodded, “Janine has been coming in a few times and we’ve spoken a bit.”

Janine noticed the way he narrowed his eyes at the two of them and gestured with his thumb towards the door that Gregory had just walked through. “I’m going to go to the backroom to uh sort out the new delivery and you can serve Janine here.”

Janine had a feeling he was lying but she didn’t want to test it and remained quiet till the door had swung shut behind him.

“It’s good to see you again.” Gregory said, “I wondered if you had given up since you hadn’t been here for a few days.”

“Oh no work just got busy and then Melissa was trying to convince everyone to buy this cold coffee out of the vending machine her boyfriend owns.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Doesn’t matter I’m here now.”

“Yeah, you are.” His eyes twinkled and Janine had it in her to admit that maybe his eyes looked better than his smile. Something she wholeheartedly adored. “So your usual?”

“Yes please.”

“Coming right up.”

They were silent as he prepared the drinks, the only noise being the clunk of the machines and the sound of someone crashing about in the backroom, which Janine guessed doubled as a kitchen. When he laid the finished drinks on the table Gregory suddenly appeared nervous, his shoulders stiff, and he appeared to be avoiding eye contact as much as possible.

Janine felt the same only she was bursting with nerves, her whole body unable to stay still. If it wasn’t the tapping of her foot it was her finger drawing pictures on the top of the countertop. Jacob and Ava’s words still rang clear in her mind.

“So, I was thinking…” Gregory said.

“Would you want to go on a date with me?” They said simultaneously and then they grinned at each other.

"Jinx." She laughed suddenly feeling lighter now that she knew that he felt the same way.

“I mean I’m up for it if you are,” Gregory said.

“Yes! I mean yeah that sounds good.” She did her best to sound calm and relaxed but she wasn’t sure it worked with the way Gregory sent her an almost smug look.

He then turned away for a moment and reappeared with an ink pen and scribbled something on the side of one of the cups and Janine had to admire how he didn’t spill any of the steaming liquid in the process. “Call me after work?” He asked.

Janine felt her words get stuck in the back of her throat but she didn’t want him to get the wrong idea so she nodded furiously.

It all felt a bit fast and Janine wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of her day in this little coffee shop but she also had a full day of work ahead of her. With one last glance over her shoulder, she waved goodbye and made her way back towards her car. 

It was going to be a long day knowing she could talk to Gregory at the end of it.

However, it appeared that Janine had forgotten one important thing when she handed out the coffees at school because Barbara stared at her cup, a crinkle appearing between her eyebrows.

“Janine why is there a phone number on my cup,” She asked.

[nickmaghighlights]

NMH Side Issues - Rugrats Comic Adventures

Welcome back to Nick Mag Highlights! And by extension: Welcome back to Nick Mag Highlights Side Issues, the series on this blog where I check out other magazines or comic books that are notably not Nickelodeon Magazine, but still scratch a similar itch. Today we’re taking a look at the very first issue of Rugrats Comic Adventures, based on the iconic Nickelodeon show.

But first, let’s run down the history checklist. This series ran for about three years, from 1997 to 2000, spanning a total of thirty issues housed in three ten-issue volumes. That would put the release of this first issue around the time of the fourth season of the show. In that case, sorry to any Dil fans, as you won’t be seeing him in this issue.

The history and creation of this series is a bit interesting, and although the information available to me disposal is a little scarce, this is my best understanding: you see, Rugrats Comic Adventures was released in America, but it seems like most if not all of its actual content was sourced from an official Rugrats comic book released exclusively for the UK in 1996 (a year earlier than Rugrats Comic Adventures’ release). Said comic was simply titled Rugrats and published by Marvel Comics (yes, that Marvel Comics).

The cover page of issue #1 of Rugrats, published in the UK by Marvel Comics. Credit to Boys Adventure Comics on Blogspot for the image and the information!

As you’ll soon see, the first story in this issue I’m talking about today is the same as the one visible on this cover of UK Rugrats (do all UK comics print the first page on the front cover?) And according to the aforementioned Blogspot source, there were allegedly thirty issues released of this UK comic, which conveniently lines up with the thirty issues released of Rugrats Comic Adventures. A conspiracy? Maybe… 

The only problem is I don’t have a scan of any of the Rugrats UK comics at my disposal, so I can’t confirm if the contents between the issues of the UK and US series are the same, unfortunately. So hey, if we’re lucky, there may be content in store for us that was made specifically for Comic Adventures that those British-types just wish they could have gotten. Maybe.

But I digress. As some of you may know, this wouldn’t be the last time Rugrats would enter the world of comics. In 1998 a daily newspaper strip based on the show was launched, lasting until 2003 and outliving Comic Adventures by three years. The show’s sequel series All Grown Up also had multiple comic outings made specially for Nickelodeon Magazine, and in 2017, Boom! Studios began publishing a new Rugrats comic series which totaled to eight issues and three longer special issues. But how did these characters fare in their first foray into comic stardom? Let’s check it out!

Oh, and before we dive in, I’d like to make one thing clear: I am not a Rugrats superfan. I’ve seen my fair share of episodes of course (with how constantly Nickelodeon played it, how could I not?) But I'm just saying I may not catch specific references if there are any, or like if a comic here reuses a plot from an episode of the show, for instance. Though if anyone reading does catch a cool detail I miss, I'd love to hear about it! 

You can read the full issue here.

So it looks like it’s five comics on the agenda today, along with two extra pages all about Chuckie and Angelica. That’s not a bad deal! It’s more material than I bargained for, that’s for sure.

I’m pretty optimistic going into this one. I mean, check out that art! It looks just like the show. And while I can't find any credits in the book, Think some employees of Klasky Csupo had a hand in the material here?

So the story goes, Angelica sort of gets left in charge of the babies, thanks to Tommy's mom. And naturally Angelica's quick to abuse her miniscule ounce of power and starts running the backyard like a military academy. A fine premise, and a pretty low-stakes story befitting a quick comic (well, lower than the stakes a show about babies can usually have, anyway).

There are two details that kind of throw me off though, namely being: the dialogue and… Angelica, I guess?

Dialogue-wise, everybody's pretty talkative here and that's okay. Angelica's on point, barking orders in her usual bratty way. But all the babies are rather verbose today, aren't they? I think one of the most memorable details of Rugrats personally is the characters' loose grip on language. Pretty much every line from one of the babies in the show has at least one grammatical error or made-up word, and it's charming! Here though, all the dialogue is written in perfect English, and once you notice it, you can’t forget it.

You'd think Tommy's newfound eloquence would have Chuckie trust his plan a bit more.

Now, onto Angelica. Simply put: they made her look insane in this comic! I mean just take a look at the two pages I posted prior and see what I mean. Orrrr… I suppose you could look a this collage I made for the same result:

Yes, these are all from the same comic. Even Tommy’s scared.

This may be my lack of Rugrats knowledge shining through again but I really don’t remember her being portrayed with a huge bulbous overbite like that. Or with that many teeth. Don’t get me wrong though, I can totally get behind some funny off-model art that I bet the artist had fun drawing. That’s what they refer to in the industry as a “win-win”.

But yeah, overall a pretty solid first story, which is either elevated or dishonored by taking certain artistic liberties. Depends on who you ask. I’m on Team Elevated.

Next up is a bio on Chuckie. I didn’t think there was much to share regarding the personal intricacies of a literal two-year-old, and apparently the writers here agreed, seeing as how they had to resort to doxxing the poor kid just to fill their fact quota for this page. 446 “Braintree” Lane? Weird name, but I guess it’s pretty befitting considering Chuckie’s hair looks like his brain sprouted out of his head. 

Another cool thing of note here is that all the Chuckie facts listed here are actually references to episodes of the show. As a kid it was always an awesome feeling whenever I understood a reference. It simultaneously made me feel smart and seemingly validated my choice to engage in a piece of media. Thumbs ups all around! Thanks, Chuckie.

Second comic of the evening, and actually I found myself really enjoying this one! The gripes I had from the previous comic have been ironed out, and the setting of the story is pretty interesting and leads to a lot of fun and creative moments. The short and long of it is Tommy and the other babies accidentally end up riding on the baggage carousel of an airport and getting mixed up with all of the machinery. Naturally, instead of getting smushed and ripped apart by the gears and mechanisms like boring real babies would, the gang ends up having the time of their lives, all the while believing they’re actually at a carnival.

Fun it is, indeed! As I said, my issues with the last comic have been effectively taken care of. All the characters are speaking as they should, dropping some funny misspellings for words like “skelitom” for skeleton and “loudsneaker” for loudspeaker. The art here is way less unhinged as well, probably because there’s no Angelica in it. There’s still some funky shots though, like long-arm Tommy here:

A fine addition to the issue in my opinion, and it even comes with cameos from Tommy’s maternal grandparents, Boris and Minka. Boris doesn’t speak a word, but he is sporting his original design that features small dot-eyes, which is a detail that would be dropped later on in the series.

I guess my only question is: why are Chuckie, Phil and Lil here? The obvious answer is because they’re main characters, but they’re not Stu and Didi’s kids, and none of their parents are to be found. I guess the Pickles got stuck babysitting on top of having to pick up the grandparents from the airport. Poor saps.

Oh god, Angelica’s back. At least she’s seemingly sorted out her inflated lip issue from the first story. No, I won't let it go.

Today’s adventure follows the babies as they’re getting their first ever professional photos done. Angelica is there too. These premises have been fine so far, lots of episodes of Rugrats feature the characters tackling normal everyday places they’ve never seen before and don’t understand. A large aspect about the show I also remember however is the extensive imagination sequences. Y’know, where Tommy and the gang imagine the situation they’re in as being way more fantastical than it really is, and their setting and outfits change accordingly? That was always my favorite part of the show and it’s a little weird to see that concept not having made any appearance thus far. I know not every episode had those though, and maybe those imagination sequences were more common in later seasons of the show? I’m not sure. Regardless, that doesn’t degrade the quality of the material, of course. It’s just a thought that came to mind as I was reading. 

Like the others I found this comic to be a pretty good time, although the story’s a little all over the place. The art’s nice as well. I actually found some of the art of the characters here to look somewhat cute, surprisingly. That’s not exactly the kind of term I’d usually use to describe the show’s visuals. Not sure what the artist here did differently specifically, but I did notice that Phil and Lil’s gross crooked baby teeth don’t make an appearance, so that probably helps their easiness on the eyes.

One highlight of this comic is this small moment of divine intervention where Angelica gets attacked by a bird that comes in through an open window. She didn’t really do anything bad this time to deserve it but, eh.

And of course, the gang manages to pull themselves together to finally get that one perfect picture. I appreciate they saved two pages to make this ending shot so big. It’s a really nice way to end things. Another quality story done! Honestly at this point, the issue’s fitted out a pretty positive track record. I’ll be surprised if we see any stinkers in the second half.

Oh and before we move on, I just want to bring up this small interaction from the beginning of the comic. It might be just me, but this moment just strikes me as odd. I probably won’t be able to explain this properly, but just hear me out: It’s a little weird to see Tommy and Chuckie acknowledge they’re not really talking, right? Like, yeah it’s always been established in the show that the babies are not actually speaking real language ‘cause the parents never hear them, but it’s not something you ever see them bring up and reference. Acknowledging that their form of communication is basically fake… Also the fact that they comprehend what speech is and are aware that what they’re doing isn’t that? I dunno, I might just be overthinking this. It’s too meta!

And up next, it’s what I think miiiiiiight be my favorite comic of the issue? Not entirely sure, it’s a toss up between either this one or the airport one. 

The story is as follows: The Pickles are having their whole house repainted. As usual, the kids just can’t bear to keep their noses out whatever is currently going on in their immediate area. So, Tommy enlists the help of the gang to use all the excess paint cans to repaint his entire room with an extravagant picture.

Like the airport comic this one has lots of dialogue between the four kids, and everyone gets their fair share of good lines. Chuckie does kind of come across as a little more whiny than usual here if only for the fact he never actually helps at all, outside of helping Phil and Lil save Tommy from smashing his head on the floor with a blanket.

”We- We’ve been… Greened!” might be my favorite line of the whole issue.

And as one could expect, the group made up of 0-to-2-year olds don’t exactly succeed in professionally painting the entire room. However, they instead manage to mess up in just the perfect way to still achieve the result they wanted. Being serious, this is genuinely a pretty wholesome ending and Tommy’s parents also being happy with the result is equally humorous and sweet. 

Yeah, now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure this is my favorite story of the issue. Tons of great lines and gags, a sweet ending, and a major appearance of my favorite character from the show, Grandpa Lou. A good show all around!

Well, after my high praise of the previous post, I guess that means this last comic has something to live up to. And yeah, under that lens, this comic isn’t going to be usurping my #1 favorite spot. Viewed on its own, however, and… eh, still doesn’t really do anything for me.

This one has Tommy accidentally getting stuck on top of his dad’s new custom stunt kite as it gets blown away by a gust of wind, flying him through town. Already that plot is kinda off, to me at least. I know it’s a show about talking babies and everything but the show never really got that cartoonish in its logic, at least to my recollection. Tommy must have to be basically hollow on the inside for the kite to get that kind of air with him sitting on top of it.

On the positive side of things: the art is really good! Each panel sports its own unique camera angle which gives the comic some nice visual variety. The coloring and details on all the backgrounds, likewise, are lovely to look at. Overall this presentation makes for a very extravagant ending for the comic, at least in the art department. And to top it all off, it's even got the return of long arm Tommy:

But again, in regards to the story… Even if you’re willing to accept the weird logic of it all, the actual plot isn’t super entertaining. Tommy flies around a bit, some people see him and are surprised, while Angelica’s down below using Stu’s radio trying to order Tommy to land. It’s just a bit lacking in substance compared to the other stories we’ve looked at. If you’re going to do a story like this, you might as well go all in. Like, have all the babies on the kite and pretend they’re a flight crew. Y'know, some real Snoopy-type stuff.

And of course, Tommy makes it back down to the ground just in time before his Dad can notice a thing (although it’s not like he really had control of the kite anyway, I think?)

But that’s about all I’ve got to say on this one. Not the great ending one would have hoped for, but it looks nice at least. Come to think of it, Stu could make a killing off that kite considering the amount of weight it can hold. If only he knew…

And last but… not least? It’s a guide from Angelica on how to play house. I was kind of hoping for another character bio like what Chuckie had, since then we’d at least be able to learn her weaknesses and have a chance of vanquishing her evil once and for all. But alas, this is cool too, and it has a mention of her friend Susie, who had been a character in the show for a couple years now by this point but didn’t manage to make an actual physical appearance in the issue.

Bit of an odd way to end the issue, being honest, but eh, it’s a little funny.

And before we wrap it up I’d like to bring up the little legal disclaimer here on the final page, confirming that all these comics were indeed sourced from the origins Marvel-published UK Rugrats issues.

Well, that was fun, wasn’t it? I was a little skeptical going into it, but I think this turned out to be a pretty good choice for another installment of Side Issues. It had a history lesson opportunity, some great art, and a lot to talk about. Everything you could want, at least if you write blog posts about old Nickelodeon-related publications in your spare time, anyway. 

And hey, there’s more to this series than what I’ve shown you today, too. Did you know the last issue featured a crossover between Rugrats and Rocket Power, another one of Klasky Csupo’s shows?

That’s pretty cool! And also a little odd ‘cause I thought Rocket Power took place in Hawaii. This also means the only Nickelodeon-owned Klasky Csupo show that Rugrats didn’t cross over with is As Told by Ginger, and to be fair I’m not sure how you could’ve made that work, so I’ll let it pass.

But yeah, if I check out this comic series again, I think I’ll take a look at this issue. Well, actually if I do check out this series again it’ll have to be this issue, since it’s the only other issue on the Internet Archive I could find. That’s a bummer! Hopefully people’ll find and scan more copies sooner rather than later. The internet will only be around for so long, after all.

This would be where I end things, but while I was working on this post, Nickelodeon announced a new Rugrats game of all things.

It’s a bit of a shock, but I think what’s more shocking is that it looks pretty good! The NES graphics mode does, anyway. The HD drawn graphics you can optionally switch to leave something to be desired. It seems fun! I’ll be keeping an eye on this one.  And apparently Nickelodeon’s got a couple more retro-styled games in the works, so I’m excited to see where this goes.

That about does it for this episode of Nick Mag Highlights! I’ll see you all next time, where I’ll most certainly be checking out another issue of the actual magazine this blog is named after. Probably. See you later, and have a good one!

[crmsnmth]

September Sky Chapter One, Part 6

I smiled to myself. I didn't know the bar at all, but I also knew all but jack shit about Walker's Point. Hell, I was still learning things about my own neighborhood. It didn't really matter though. I'd get to hang out with my friend. It'd been about two months since the last time we hung out physically. And it'd be kind of cool to see Alana again too. We use to hang on the edges of the same circles in high school, and I had a massive crush on her for a really long time. But I wasn't a very smart teenager, and resorted to the childish way of telling a girl you liked them. I mocked her relentlessly. I was in the first grade again, pulling the hair of the girl I liked.

ME: Yeah, I should be to get a Saturday night off. I never do, so it shouldn't be a problem. I'll probably have to go in Sunday to do the numbers and stuff but fuck it. It'll be worth it. It'll be a good time. I haven't seen Alana in fucking years.

It was Tuesday, and I always had Tuesday's off. My schedule was pretty routine, and it rarely changed in any way. I really could go in pretty much whenever I wanted, and just because I dressed and thought in that punk rebellion feeling, didn't mean that I didn't take huge pride in my job. I had worked my way up from a dishwasher back in Oconomowoc. And now I was the kitchen manager and lead line in Milwaukee. I liked the work. And the workplace is where I've made the few friends I have in Milwaukee. I couldn't make real friends on the campus because nothing forces me to talk another human being. Work does. Plus, the money was ok. I didn't worry about much. My bills were paid and if I really wanted something, I got it. I was comfortable.

It was 3:35. Time to make my way back across the bridge and up to the campus. I left, and about fifteen minutes later I was sitting on a table in the campus cafeteria. I won't lie, I hurried here. I could have slowly walked and still would have had time, but for once, I wanted to be somewhere. I had my headphones and was listening to Green Day's Kerplunk! album. I sat there, mumbling along to '2000 Light Years Away" and letting my eyes scan the cafeteria. I didn't really expect her to show. So I hoped for the best, and prepared for the worst.

It was running on 4:30 when I decided she had done the sensible thing. It sucked, quite a lot actually, and I was bummed about it. I couldn't really be upset with her though. It was the smarter choice. I sighed heavily, and stood up. Only for my iPod to fall to the floor, yanking my headphones off and under the table. I bent down to pick them up and head back home.

"So, are you always dropping something?" A perfect voice asked from behind me. I grabbed my stuff and jerked back up.

"What can I say? You can find some pretty rad stuff on the floor," I shot back. I was only half joking. My mouth moves faster than my brain a lot of the time, and because of it, I can come off as a horrible insufferable sarcastic smart-ass.

"I bet," she laughed. I could listen to that laugh forever.

"So coffee or?" I asked. Dammit, gain control of your words, stupid.

"Would mind something a little stronger? It's been a rough day, and I could use a drink." She looked at me with her bright shining eyes. It was only then I noticed the tired look. The dead and waiting look of a college student. A college student who actually cares about school.

"No, that's cool. Whatever you want to do. Where did you want to go?" I asked. I knew a few bars around Riverwest. I may not like people, but I do like music, and there's a lot of live music in the bars of Riverwest. And I liked a drink, like anyone else. Maybe a little more. It knocked out the anxiety. I preferred to smoke weed though. No hangover. And it makes me eat. Another thing I just never really do.

[inagent-arc]

⸻ 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 *

ᅳ JULY 21, 1987 / adrian is born as henry joseph bennett jr.

ᅳ MARCH 1989 / edith bennett nee grant, dies from a heart attack, caused by a combination of previously undiagnosed heart condition and the side effects of undergoing umbrella’s clinical trial, which was worsened during her tenuous labour.

ᅳ 1989-1991 / adrian is sent to live with his remaining grandparent, his father had turned to alcohol to cope with the loss of his wife and blamed his son for what happened to her. unfortunately, his grandfather suffered a stroke and could no longer care for adrian, sending him back to his father.

ᅳ 1992-1995 / after evidence of abuse and neglect were uncovered, cps removed adrian from his father’s care and he went into the system. at the end, adrian was sent to the raccoon city orphanage after a spot opened up for him.

ᅳ 1995-1998 / not long after his arrival into the orphanage, adrian starts undergoing various tests and experiments. scientists noted his ability to recover from said tests faster than the other children.

adrian was already dealing with previous trauma, so what went on in the orphanage in secret was more than enough to activate his latent psychic abilities. it started out subtly at first, lights flickering whenever he was angry or sullen, random items just falling off shelves.

his aggressive attitude became even more so because of his telepathic and psychometric abilities that were slowly activating. as a result, he grew an aversion to physical contact since it always seems to happen when someone is touching him.

it was also during this time that adrian started going by adrian instead of henry or junior, some went along with it, others did not. throughout this period, adrian started running away or made numerous attempts of it. irons always made sure to fuel further distrust between adrian and the rest of the police in his department, as a result, adrian gains the reputation of being a troublemaker.

ᅳ EARLY 1997 / at some point, one of the doctors overseeing the experiments noted unusual brain scans and adrian is selected to undergo further tests and examinations. from then on, he starts staying at nest for various periods of time.

ᅳ JULY 1998 / the spencer mansion/arklay mountains incident happens.

ᅳ SEPTEMBER 1998 / the raccoon city outbreak happens. adrian had been at nest when it started and using the chaos, he escaped from the facility and into the sewers while going to the surface for supplies now and again. he meets various characters and at the end, is able to escape from raccoon city before it was destroyed.

ᅳ POST-RACCOON CITY / in the chaos after the incident, adrian is returned to his biological father in new york city (who moved there after adrian was taken by cps). still an alcoholic but functional, henry manages to behave to an extent as someone from the government would check in every 3 to 6 months until they eventually stopped in 2000.

during this time, adrian would constantly leave his father’s apartment (to escape his father whenever the older man starts being belligerent) to crash at his friends’ couches or just stay out on the streets before returning back.

ᅳ 2002 / adrian leaves home permanently a few months before his 15th birthday, forcing him to rely on various methods to survive, such as crashing on friends’ couches or occasionally breaking into abandoned units for a place to sleep.

he relied on criminal tactics, such as picking pockets, shoplifting, breaking into cars, etc, in order to gather necessary resources. around september, adrian ends up being recruited to the hcf, selected due to his youth and that no one would miss him. knowing that he would have to deal with the coming winter, adrian takes his chance and joins the hcf.

he gains a reputation for picking up skills quickly though his attitude was notorious, especially for older authority figures.

ᅳ 2003 / adrian is taken as krauser’s student, which no doubt saved him from being booted out of the paramilitary organization.

ᅳ 2004 / adrian is sent to spain along with krauser to work with saddler and the los illuminados. there he is reunited with leon kennedy and occasionally aids him behind the scenes.

while in spain, adrian is injected with a plaga but due to his body’s high immunity, the plaga is rejected. however, his body was still able to absorb a bit of the plaga, further strengthening his body’s resistance to parasites. he returns to the HCF with krauser’s body.

after krauser’s death, adrian takes up the bow as his primary weapon full-time.

ᅳ 2008 / a botched job landed adrian in the BSAA’s custody. they gave him a choice, willingly give them information regarding his organization and he won’t go to prison for all of his crimes. he takes up their offer.

*timeline is subject to possible changes.

[necromancy-enthusiast]

I tried picking up the game Afterlife again because I wanted to write an essay on it (not the one that was at least semi-popular with let's players some years back, the one that's basically just Sim City 2000 but with a supernatural twist because they weren't as nearly original with the mechanics as they could've been) and man, I forgot quite how crippled this game was by the fact that the strategy guide that explains the games mechanics in more depth was sold separately, and even if you buy it digitally on gog or steam they don't give you a pdf of the guide like they do a lot of other old computer games that rely heavily on the manuals to explain the mechanics, like Fallout. I've also failed to find any sort of free scan of it online and I have found copies on Amazon... For $35+ usd. For a strategy guide to a nearly 30 year old game that should've come with the game for free. Like sure, you get a pretty basic bitch guide and some very basic bitch in game tutorials, but you just have to figure out the finer details for yourself.

Anyway yeah so whatever, maybe I kind find a video that goes into more depth on it, though tbh I hate having to rely on video guides for the sort of thing. So what particularly interests me about this game is the fact that yes, you run an afterlife, namely a heaven and hell concurrently (it's very very Christian based minus a few details like allowing for reincarnation, and also despite being there afterlife for an alien civilization) but you know what happens to the people there? You know how their fates get assigned? It depends entirely on what they believed in during life. If they believed in hell only and that you stay there forever, then sucks to be you! If they believed in reincarnation then they get to reincarnate, if they believed nothing happens then they cease to exist.

It's an extremely weird and fascinating tenet system that I've never found in any other source, whether it be real world religion or fictional media. You can even influence what living people (aliens really, since it's specifically an afterlife for the inhabitants of a single alien planet) believe to an extent. And if everyone shifts to believing nothing happens or the species goes extinct for whatever reason then you're kinda fucked, game over. It's such a bizarre game and man, if it had just had the strategy guide included and if it had been braver in experimenting with the city simulator mechanics instead of largely aping Sim City 2000's formula, I think it would've gotten a lot more attention. Oh well.

[seekschaos]

#𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 - 𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓

ᅳ JULY 21, 1987 / adrian is born as henry joseph bennett jr.

ᅳ MARCH 1989 / edith bennett nee grant, dies from a heart attack, caused by a combination of previously undiagnosed heart condition and the side effects of undergoing umbrella’s clinical trial, which was worsened during her tenuous labour.

ᅳ 1989-1991 / adrian is sent to live with his remaining grandparent, his father had turned to alcohol to cope with the loss of his wife and blamed his son for what happened to her. unfortunately, his grandfather suffered a stroke and could no longer care for adrian, sending him back to his father.

ᅳ 1992-1995 / after evidence of abuse and neglect were uncovered, cps removed adrian from his father’s care and he went into the system. at the end, adrian was sent to the raccoon city orphanage after a spot opened up for him.

ᅳ 1995-1998 / not long after his arrival into the orphanage, adrian starts undergoing various tests and experiments. scientists noted his ability to recover from said tests faster than the other children.

adrian was already dealing with previous trauma, so what went on in the orphanage in secret was more than enough to activate his latent psychic abilities. it started out subtly at first, lights flickering whenever he was angry or sullen, random items just falling off shelves.

his aggressive attitude became even more so because of his telepathic and psychometric abilities that were slowly activating. as a result, he grew an aversion to physical contact since it always seems to happen when someone is touching him.

it was also during this time that adrian started going by adrian instead of henry or junior, some went along with it, others did not. throughout this period, adrian started running away or made numerous attempts of it. irons always made sure to fuel further distrust between adrian and the rest of the police in his department, as a result, adrian gains the reputation of being a troublemaker.

ᅳ EARLY 1997 / at some point, one of the doctors overseeing the experiments noted unusual brain scans and adrian is selected to undergo further tests and examinations. from then on, he starts staying at nest for various periods of time.

ᅳ JULY 1998 / the spencer mansion/arklay mountains incident happens.

ᅳ SEPTEMBER 1998 / the raccoon city outbreak happens. adrian had been at nest when it started and using the chaos, he escaped from the facility and into the sewers while going to the surface for supplies now and again. he meets various characters and at the end, is able to escape from raccoon city before it was destroyed.

ᅳ POST-RACCOON CITY / in the chaos after the incident, adrian is returned to his biological father in new york city (who moved there after adrian was taken by cps). still an alcoholic but functional, henry manages to behave to an extent as someone from the government would check in every 3 to 6 months until they eventually stopped in 2000.

during this time, adrian would constantly leave his father’s apartment (to escape his father whenever the older man starts being belligerent) to crash at his friends’ couches or just stay out on the streets before returning back.

ᅳ 2002 / adrian leaves home permanently a few months before his 15th birthday, forcing him to rely on various methods to survive, such as crashing on friends’ couches or occasionally breaking into abandoned units for a place to sleep.

he relied on criminal tactics, such as picking pockets, shoplifting, breaking into cars, etc, in order to gather necessary resources. around september, adrian ends up being recruited to the hcf, selected due to his youth and that no one would miss him. knowing that he would have to deal with the coming winter, adrian takes his chance and joins the hcf.

he gains a reputation for picking up skills quickly though his attitude was notorious, especially for older authority figures.

ᅳ 2003 / adrian is taken as krauser’s student, which no doubt saved him from being booted out of the paramilitary organization.

ᅳ 2004 / adrian is sent to spain along with krauser to work with saddler and the los illuminados. there he is reunited with leon kennedy and occasionally aids him behind the scenes.

while in spain, adrian is injected with a plaga but due to his body’s high immunity, the plaga is rejected. however, his body was still able to absorb a bit of the plaga, further strengthening his body’s resistance to parasites. he returns to the HCF with krauser’s body.

after krauser’s death, adrian takes up the bow as his primary weapon full-time.

ᅳ 2008 / a botched job landed adrian in the BSAA’s custody. they gave him a choice, willingly give them information regarding his organization and he won’t go to prison for all of his crimes. he takes up their offer.

[inagent]

⸻ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 - 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄

ᅳ JULY 21, 1987 / adrian is born as henry joseph bennett jr.

ᅳ MARCH 1989 / edith bennett nee grant, dies from a heart attack, caused by a combination of previously undiagnosed heart condition and the side effects of undergoing umbrella’s clinical trial, which was worsened during her tenuous labour.

ᅳ 1989-1991 / adrian is sent to live with his remaining grandparent, his father had turned to alcohol to cope with the loss of his wife and blamed his son for what happened to her. unfortunately, his grandfather suffered a stroke and could no longer care for adrian, sending him back to his father.

ᅳ 1992-1995 / after evidence of abuse and neglect were uncovered, cps removed adrian from his father’s care and he went into the system. at the end, adrian was sent to the raccoon city orphanage after a spot opened up for him.

ᅳ 1995-1998 / not long after his arrival into the orphanage, adrian starts undergoing various tests and experiments. scientists noted his ability to recover from said tests faster than the other children.

adrian was already dealing with previous trauma, so what went on in the orphanage in secret was more than enough to activate his latent psychic abilities. it started out subtly at first, lights flickering whenever he was angry or sullen, random items just falling off shelves.

his aggressive attitude became even more so because of his telepathic and psychometric abilities that were slowly activating. as a result, he grew an aversion to physical contact since it always seems to happen when someone is touching him.

it was also during this time that adrian started going by adrian instead of henry or junior, some went along with it, others did not. throughout this period, adrian started running away or made numerous attempts of it. irons always made sure to fuel further distrust between adrian and the rest of the police in his department, as a result, adrian gains the reputation of being a troublemaker.

ᅳ EARLY 1997 / at some point, one of the doctors overseeing the experiments noted unusual brain scans and adrian is selected to undergo further tests and examinations. from then on, he starts staying at nest for various periods of time.

ᅳ JULY 1998 / the spencer mansion/arklay mountains incident happens.

ᅳ SEPTEMBER 1998 / the raccoon city outbreak happens. adrian had been at nest when it started and using the chaos, he escaped from the facility and into the sewers while going to the surface for supplies now and again. he meets various characters and at the end, is able to escape from raccoon city before it was destroyed.

ᅳ POST-RACCOON CITY / in the chaos after the incident, adrian is returned to his biological father in new york city (who moved there after adrian was taken by cps). still an alcoholic but functional, henry manages to behave to an extent as someone from the government would check in every 3 to 6 months until they eventually stopped in 2000.

during this time, adrian would constantly leave his father’s apartment (to escape his father whenever the older man starts being belligerent) to crash at his friends’ couches or just stay out on the streets before returning back.

ᅳ 2002 / adrian leaves home permanently a few months before his 15th birthday, forcing him to rely on various methods to survive, such as crashing on friends’ couches or occasionally breaking into abandoned units for a place to sleep.

he relied on criminal tactics, such as picking pockets, shoplifting, breaking into cars, etc, in order to gather necessary resources. around september, adrian ends up being recruited to the hcf, selected due to his youth and that no one would miss him. knowing that he would have to deal with the coming winter, adrian takes his chance and joins the hcf.

he gains a reputation for picking up skills quickly though his attitude was notorious, especially for older authority figures.

ᅳ 2003 / adrian is taken as krauser’s student, which no doubt saved him from being booted out of the paramilitary organization.

ᅳ 2004 / adrian is sent to spain along with krauser to work with saddler and the los illuminados. there he is reunited with leon kennedy and occasionally aids him behind the scenes.

while in spain, adrian is injected with a plaga but due to his body’s high immunity, the plaga is rejected. however, his body was still able to absorb a bit of the plaga, further strengthening his body’s resistance to parasites. he returns to the HCF with krauser’s body.

after krauser’s death, adrian takes up the bow as his primary weapon full-time.

ᅳ 2008 / a botched job landed adrian in the BSAA’s custody. they gave him a choice, willingly give them information regarding his organization and he won’t go to prison for all of his crimes. he takes up their offer.