#there’s only one quarter or so of it left to go (not including a bunch of rewriting i plan to do for the prince justin + suliman plotline)

[cynicalmusings]

i’ve barely written any hmc today, which suffice to say isn’t great. i thought chapter sixteen would be easy to write, but that is not the case. the main thing holding me up is how to slip details, foreshadowing, exposition, etc. into the dialogue without it coming across as too obvious or unnatural. i’ll get it done eventually, but unless the writing gods shine every ounce of their power on me, it definitely won’t be by the end of the weekend.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: As newlyweds, you and Bradley know what you want. But sometimes wanting something isn't enough when those things suddenly seem unattainable. But you do have each other, and you fight to try to remember that.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32 (This story as themes of Bradley and his wife trying to get pregnant.)

You woke up too early for work. Bradley was still sound asleep as you carefully rolled away from him and slipped out of bed. The feeling of anxious energy flowed too fast through your veins. You'd felt like this every day for the past week, and you couldn't make it stop. 

There was too much going on with work and at home, and now you'd reached the last week of January. Your boss had assured you weeks ago that he'd be putting your paperwork through for a promotion this month. You were supposed to be included with the first quarter cycle. But he hadn't said a word about it in weeks, months. And now you were going to have to schedule a meeting with him and bring it up.

"Morning, Baby Girl," Bradley rasped behind you. He startled you even though you'd been standing in front of the bathroom mirror, apparently staring at nothing. 

"Morning," you whispered before turning to face him. "It's early."

Bradley grunted and wrapped you up in his arms. His hands were immediately underneath his soft UVA tee that you loved to sleep in. "Mmhmm," he hummed. "Was hoping maybe you got up early so we could spend a little longer in the shower?"

You looked up into his big, brown eyes and at his messy bedhead. He was honestly the most handsome man you'd ever seen in your life. When he reached for your left hand and brought it up to his lips, you nodded as he kissed your rings.

"You know what, Roo...that's exactly why I got up so early." 

He smiled against your fingers, his mustache brushing your knuckles. He was big and a little hard now through his boxer briefs. And somehow that's all it really took. The feeling of need started thrumming through your body, slowly replacing your anxiety with desire for your husband. He'd barely touched you yet, one hand holding yours and the other at your waist, but you felt so much more comfortable when his hands were on you. 

"Is that what you want?" you asked him, running your fingers along the waistband of his underwear. You had been trying to delicately add an extra layer of consent to sex with Bradley ever since he told you about his first time. Maybe he noticed, maybe he didn't, but he bent down and kissed behind your ear.

"Of course," he rasped, and you started reaching for the shower door handle. The tee shirt and Bradley's underwear ended up on the bath mat, but he carefully folded up your glasses and set them on the vanity. You ducked under the spray of warm water, and a few seconds later, Bradley was there too, lips on yours with your back pressed against the tile wall. 

You laughed softly as he used one big hand on your butt and the other between your shoulder blades to keep the cold sensation of the tile from your skin. "What's funny?" he asked before sucking so hard on your neck that your laugh was replaced with a little squeal. 

"I was going to say you're sweet, but you're a menace, and I love that, too," you moaned as your back met the tiles. Bradley was running his knuckles along your pussy, separating you with his index and middle fingers before slipping his cock inside you. 

He fucked you hard up against the wall, your body jerking with each thrust. "You're so fucking perfect," he growled, licking the droplets of water from your shoulders and collarbones. "So tight and warm."

Your moans sounded wild as the noise reverberated off the glass shower enclosure. "Roo," you whispered, grabbing onto his biceps to keep yourself on your feet. But he was unrelenting, and you could feel the tiles digging into your spine. You could feel yourself slipping, but he held you in place as he fucked you. 

It was unspoken now, but every time you and he made love, it was clear you were trying for a baby. And as much as Bradley tried to be encouraging, tried to tell you nothing had changed, you knew he wanted you pregnant. But you probably weren't ovulating right now, and you were sure he knew that.

"Fuck," he grunted, rubbing your clit with his thumb as he went a little harder. So maybe he wasn't lying when he told you every day that he was never going to stop wanting you no matter what. 

"You're so deep," you whined, feeling so much pressure as you started to clench around him. "Come on, Daddy."

And that did it. His eyes were half lidded as he pinched your clit and wrapped his other hand around your neck. You came hard for him, and the smirk on his lips as you called him Daddy again was lethal. 

"God, Roo!" you whined as he came inside you. When he released your neck, he kissed you there dozens of times.

"I love you," he murmured, slowly fucking his cum a little deeper before withdrawing and starting to use the shower for its intended purpose. He soaped up your skin while you caught your breath, his hands squeezing your breasts while he smiled. "I think I'm gonna have a great day."

Although you woke up so early, you barely made it to your office on time. Bradley insisted on helping you get your hair pulled back for work, which resulted in the two of you laughing hysterically in the bathroom. You ended up having to redo it anyway, but he was so sweet all morning. He even got your travel mug of coffee ready along with some toast once you both realized how late it had gotten. And your spine was still a little sore for him pushing you up against the wall, but it was a good kind of sore.

As you unlocked your office door, your eye caught on your name placard hanging straight as a pin on the wall. Bradley hated that you hadn't changed your last name yet. He was so annoying about it, he even went so far as to snap your name tag in half a few weeks ago when you were having sex. You were currently sporting your spare on your uniform. 

It wasn't like you were even taking Bradshaw as your last name now. You were going to hyphenate. You'd earned a master's degree in mechanical engineering with your last name attached to it! Your diplomas were hanging up in your office! You liked your name! But you liked Bradley's name, too. And if you had kids, you'd want them to be Bradshaws. 

And then you sucked in a deep breath and closed your door behind you. Getting pregnant was the last thing you wanted to think about right now. So you tried not to focus on that. You'd already sent in your name change paperwork; as soon as that was completed, you could update your name tag and door placard. 

But in the meantime, you had to get to your lab and set up a meeting with your boss. You thought you deserved a promotion, and now you were going to have to ask him about it, which you really, really didn't want to have to do. When you strolled into your lab, Sonya and Macy were in conversation with Cat Coleman. When Cat's eyes met yours, she smirked and turned back to her computer. 

You weren't late, not really. Was everyone else early? And then Captain Bickel walked in, and you were the only one standing there, awkwardly holding your computer instead of doing your work. 

"Lieutenant, see me in my office," he told you before turning back toward the door. Your belly lurched and you swallowed hard as you followed him out. For the past few weeks, you'd been feeling like an outsider in your own workspace. Really since you hired Cat. If you were about to get reprimanded, you were afraid you'd burst into tears. 

"Sir?" you asked, your voice coming out a little strained once you were alone in his office. 

"Have a seat," he told you. Oh great, he wanted you to stay for a while. You sucked in a deep breath and slid down into the chair opposite his desk. 

"Sir?" you asked again, biting your lip.

"I just wanted to keep you updated on a few of our grant proposals. I am going to need you to write another one for submission to Annapolis in the next four weeks. We can get together to start it next week. I also need you and Lieutenant Coleman to re-code the entirety of project 27.12 before we can turn that over for testing."

Your head was swimming. You wished you had brought a notebook with you. How were you supposed to remember all of this? And how were you supposed to bring up a promotion now? He wanted you to keep proving yourself.

"And of course your promotion was finalized," he finished, looking at you expectantly. You had completely zoned out.

"My promotion, sir?" you asked softly, afraid you had misheard. 

"Yes," Bickel said, giving you a funny look. "We discussed this before? You should receive some mail about it soon. I just wanted to let you know it was finalized since you were going to place an order for a new door placard and name tags. You might as well update your rank at the same time as your legal name."

You felt tears pricking your eyes for a very different reason. You don't know why you thought this was going to be an ordeal. This man always looked out for you and everyone else who worked directly beneath him. He hadn't asked you for any details before offering to remove Josh from your lab. He made sure you were always busy and challenged. He always remembered everyone's damn birthday for crying out loud. And now you wanted to hug him, but instead you stood and shook his hand. 

"Thank you, Sir."

He squeezed your hand and said, "You work hard. It does not go unnoticed Top Gun."

You nodded once and he dismissed you. And then you started crying in the hallway. You ducked into the empty ladies' room, locked yourself in a stall, and then let out a muffled scream before jumping up and down. The sound of your boots echoed through the space as you pulled your phone out of your pocket. 

Bradley wasn't flying today, and now you needed to see him as quickly as possible. You sent him a text asking if he was eating lunch in the cafeteria. If not, you'd have to go find him in the tower or one of the simulation classrooms. And now that you knew it was happening, you were itching to tell him. And then you could call your parents tonight. 

You screeched softly before heading back to your lab. 

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

Maverick would not shut up. Bradley's stomach was growling so loudly now, everyone else kept turning to look at him.

"What?" he told Nat with a shrug, getting a little snippy.

"Did your wife not feed you a gourmet breakfast this morning?" she whispered.

Bradley just smirked. You and he had in fact not had time to eat anything together since he'd kept you in the shower so long. That's why he was famished now. Luckily Mav dismissed them a few minutes later. 

"No, actually," Bradley told Nat as they exited the classroom. "I was too busy to have breakfast this morning."

"Eww!" she said, covering her ears and storming ahead down the corridor. 

"What's her problem?" Jake drawled from Bradley's other side. He noticed you had texted him asking if he was eating lunch in the cafeteria. 

Bradley texted you back as he told Jake, "I was about to tell her I was balls deep in my wife all morning and didn't have time to eat breakfast, but she didn't want to hear it."

"Eww!" Jake responded. "When it comes to you and Angel, I prefer to avoid explicit details."

He stomped down the hallway after Nat, and Bradley was delighted to have a quiet moment to himself. He just assured you he was on his way to the cafeteria, and you texted back a million smiley faces. Bradley smiled. You must be having a good day. 

As soon as he could smell food, his stomach started making so much noise, he was actually embarrassed. Hondo looked at him with concern as he entered the cafeteria. In a flash of khaki, he saw you running toward him. 

"Bradley!" you called, shoving past Jake to get to him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, reaching for you. But you were smiling, your face positively radiant as you slammed into his arms. 

Bradley held you tight against him as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "I'm being promoted!" you told him. 

"Promoted?" he asked, a smile blooming across his face too. "Baby Girl!"

"That's Lieutenant Commander Baby Girl!" you told him, and then his lips were all over yours. Bradley could hear Jake whistling and catcalling, but he didn't care at all. 

"Oh my god," he gasped between kisses. "I'm so proud of you!"

You wrapped him tighter in your arms, and the sound of your laughter as Bradley kissed your neck made him crazy. He was absolutely crazy for you. For his wife. So he kissed you in front of the cafeteria filled with probably hundreds of officers and ensigns without a damn care. 

"I feel so relieved!" you gasped. "Bickel called me into his office and told me earlier this morning."

"Did you call your parents?" he asked, cupping your face and kissing your forehead. 

"No! I had to tell you first!"

Bradley's heart swelled with love. You were his number one for good news or bad, and he was delighted to be your number one as well. "We can call them together later," he whispered against your ear. "I am so fucking proud of you, Lieutenant Commander."

You bit your lip and looked up at him. "It's a good thing I'm hyphenating my last name. Two Lieutenant Commanders Bradshaw would be very confusing."

Bradley wrapped his arms around your waist. He couldn't wait to see his name next to yours on your name tag. "I don't outrank you anymore," he said. "Soon you'll be an admiral. Admiral Baby Girl."

He watched you preen and lean up to kiss his chin.

"What exactly is going on here?" Jake asked, holding a tray of food and pointing to both of you with a fork. "Making out in the cafeteria? This is weird, even for you."

Bradley let you pull yourself out of his arms as you told Jake, "I'm being promoted! Lieutenant Commander."

"Well, shit," Jake replied, thrusting the tray into Bradley's hands and pulling you in for a tight hug. "Knew they'd get something right around here eventually. Congratulations."

Bradley listened to the sound of your laughter as you held onto Jake. After Jake kissed your cheek, he took his lunch tray back and said, "It's about time someone wasn't outranked by Rooster. Boss him around, Angel."

"I will!" you promised, pulling Bradley toward the food line. "Roo, you must be starving. I didn't have time to make you breakfast."

Good god, Bradley was so spoiled, it was amazing. He didn't have time for breakfast because he was dicking you down in the shower. He wanted to take you home and celebrate your promotion with you immediately. 

After he ate lunch with you, he made plans to pick up a few things on his way home from work. 

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

"Oh, hell yes," Bradley growled, fucking you on the kitchen island while you held the bottle of pink champagne. You were wearing just the jacket to your dress whites, and both of you were a little tipsy. 

As soon as you got off the phone with your parents, Bradley popped the bottle of champagne and presented you with a cake that said My wife is a badass. Then he suggested you try on your dress whites since you'd need to wear them to your promotion banquet next month. And now here you were.

"Harder, Bradshaw! Harder, or I'll give you two hundred pushups!"

"Yes, ma'am," he grunted, slamming into you. His biceps were bulging as he held onto your hips, and you leaned toward him to kiss his tattoo. "You feel so good, Lieutenant Commander."

You moaned as he used your brand new rank title. "You don't outrank me any longer," you gasped as he went so hard, you had to hold onto his shoulders to stay seated. 

Bradley met your eyes with his hungry gaze and a smirk. "Are we racing to admiral, Baby Girl?" he grunted.

A laugh bubbled out of you before you moaned loudly. The thought of the two of you, decades from now, trying to one up each other and reach the rank of admiral before the other one had a chance... well, that actually sounded pretty perfect to you. 

"You're on," you told him, kissing his lips as he made you come on his cock. After he filled you up, he didn't move for a little while. He kept his hands tucked inside your white jacket, stroking up to your breasts and back down to your hips. His lips trailed along your jaw and neck as you casually sipped on the bottle of champagne. 

"So proud of you," he whispered. "You're so damn smart."

"Mmm," you hummed, letting the bubbles hit your tongue again. You couldn't think of anyone else you worked with who made it to Lieutenant Commander at age thirty one, except maybe Bickel himself. And you had just turned thirty one this month. You were pretty proud of yourself as you sat in a mess of Bradley's cum and ate some cake. 

"Sorry it's not confetti," he said, holding his hands up in surrender as you fed him a bite. "You could have given me a little warning if you wanted a better cake."

You laughed and said, "This cake is good. It tastes like success."

He smeared some of the frosting across your cheek as you gasped, and then he licked it off before kissing you. "Success," he murmured against your lips.

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

The following week, when Bradley had a little break in the middle of his day, he grabbed a cup of coffee and strolled out of the tower toward the main building with every intention of surprising you. If you weren't in your office, you'd probably be in your lab. Other than a meeting with your boss, Bradley remembered you saying you didn't have too much on your calendar for today.

Then he ran into Jake when he got out of the elevator, and he looked awfully suspicious. "What are you doing?" Bradley asked, eyes narrowing on him.

Jake just shrugged and said, "Uh... just going to see what Angel's up to. You?"

Bradley cocked his head to the side. "I'm going to see what she's up to, because she's my wife." Then he noticed the coffee in Jake's hand. "You brought her some coffee?"

"Yep," Jake replied, starting to walk toward your office, clearly unbothered that Bradley was there too. Bradley wanted to have a minute alone with you, but fucking Hangman had somehow mutated into your BFF. It was insane. 

"Can you say hi quickly and then clear out?" Bradley mumbled, stopping short in front of your office door. Jake strolled right in through the open door, and Bradley could hear your laughter. But his eyes were stuck on your brand new name placard. He smiled at your brand new title and your brand new last name. You'd been married for three months, and he'd been selfishly waiting to see Bradshaw after that tiny little hyphen. It looked and sounded perfect. 

When Bradley actually entered your office, you were sipping the coffee from Jake while he rambled on, something about at Cat. "I was thinking you might be in your lab, actually," Jake told you, "and your work is so interesting, so I was going to maybe stop by there for a few minutes."

But your eyes were on Bradley's before his gaze dipped down to read your name tag on your chest. He chuckled and rubbed his mustache. "Jake, get the fuck out," Bradley told him, never taking his eyes off your body.

You pressed your lips together and squeaked. "Jake, why don't you go wait in the lounge down the hall? I'll take you to my lab in a few minutes." 

Bradley watched you wrap one hand around his bicep and lead him out to the hallway. Then Jake turned around and looked back and forth between the two of you, his expression suddenly turning to one of disgust. "Seriously? I'll just see you tomorrow," he muttered, pulling the door closed behind him. 

And then Bradley was on you as you locked the door. "Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," you gasped dramatically. "We can't be doing this here. It's strictly forbidden. Sir."

"Fuck," Bradley groaned, pressing his lips to your name tag before kissing your mouth and unzipping your khaki pants. 

"Do you remember, many months ago, when you swore you'd keep your hands to yourself at work?" you asked, reaching for his zipper as well.

"Yeah," he grunted, yanking your pants down. "But I fucking lied. Now bend over, Baby Girl."

And Bradley railed you over your desk while he repeated your full name and told you how much he loved you.

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

Thank you so much for reading another Roo and BG series! I'm so happy you are here!! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Why do people still go to Mostro Lounge if Azul enslaved 225 students? Like how is he not out of bussines

I DON’T KNOW 😭 I’ve never understood that part???? And how easily everything is resolved????

The end of book 3 tries to hand-wave it off as, “well, Azul implemented a point card system/promotion that was just so good that it compensated for all the negative rumors about the bad things he actually did” but like 💀 even then, I never bought it…

Consider the prices plus how the point card system and its perks work:

Assuming that you need 50 points to get that consultation with Azul + the items listed here are the only ones that qualify toward the point system, that means you'd be spending at LEAST 250 thaumarks (which I'm going to consider the equivalent to 250 USD for the sake of simplicity), if not 300 thaumarks. That's not including any potential tax or tip they may charge on top of the cost of the actual menu items. If you're going for the three-point card perks, you're easily spending 750 to 900 bucks on the Mostro Lounge. Maybe that seems like chump change to some of the rich, privileged kids that attend NRC but that's still a considerable amount of money to spend at one establishment... I'll concede that the argument can be made that this investment is "worth it" because of Azul's consultation being such a useful thing. It seems like you could ask him for anything, so long as its within his means. So yeah, it’s true, his services can be an extremely powerful boon to have on your side (assuming, of course, that he's capable of granting your wish and you agree to the terms set). The issue then becomes a matter of trust between client and Azul.

I don't know about you, but I cannot believe that after Azul tricked and enslaved 220+ students (over a QUARTER of the total student body) with his promises that everyone would so easily forgive what he did and suddenly trust that he wouldn't try pulling similar shit again. And since I doubt any mob would drop 250-300 thaumarks in one day just to get the consultation ASAP (but a bunch of food he can't eat), the points system would be a long term commitment... meaning mobs go into this establishment regularly, knowing that it's run by a guy that would double cross them if it benefitted him, weirdly trusting that he wouldn't???????? Trusting that he had a sudden change of heart and wouldn’t revert back to his old ways???????? Not holding grudges??????? Nah, I don't buy that one bit. AZUL'S REP WOULD BE IN THE TOILET, AND I DON'T THINK A GOOD DEAL ON EATERY LOYALTY WOULD REVERSE THAT... At that point, the mobs are practically begging to be scammed… Also???? The only thing that Crowley technically told Azul he can't do is to take anyone's powers 💀 so literally nothing is stopping Azul from trying to one-up or cheat his clients out of other things... Agreements like the one where he tried to claim Ramshackle Dorm for himself would still be totally valid under Crowley's new but poorly defined restrictions. Why doesn't the headmaster just forbid Azul from running his shady side business altogether 😭 or at least revoke the manager position from Azul?????? The school gets 10% of the lounge’s profits, so maybe Crowley doesn’t want to lose that income—but if that’s the case, why not just put new management in charge and still reap the monetary benefits??? Even just upping the percentage the school takes from their earnings would be more of a punishment…

I'm about to cancel this man on Magicam for his crimes/j I guess this is easily explained by the mob students all being dumb/arrogant, but that’s such a cop-out 😭 My only hope is that volume 3 of the light novel adaptation will go more in-depth about the post-OB backlash Azul experiences (similar to how it did for volume 1) 💦 because the way the game presents it, it feels like he and the Mostro Lounge made an almost immediate comeback 😭 which isn’t realistic at all…

I guess all I have left to say is…

[ramu-ego]

(nsfw) LEAKAGE :: Ikki Niko x femdom!nurse!Reader

cw: fem!Reader, dom!Reader, aged up, virgin!Niko, bodily insecurities, dark content including but not limited to; age gap, male lactation, nipple play, handsfree cumming, dub con word count: 3.3k character(s): Ikki Niko synopsis - Ego's rigorous all week training took it's toll on the poor soccer genuis, only a trip to the Blue Lock nurse

DNI :: minors, blank blogs + m!Reader blogs

"Ten days of absolute rigorous strength training. And if you so much as touch a soccer ball. Will be expelled, permanently."

Hell on earth was the ten days following the first selection that Niko hadn't been prepared to live through. Determination kept him going in the tear and sweat soaked blue lock uniform. Greedily taking the punishment as a way to better himself than his rivals. Niko would shed anything just to come out on top. Including blood.

"Hsssk-" A sharp painful inhale through clenched teeth. With a careful touch Niko peeled his uniform off his sweat soaked chest as he was the final one to finish for the day. Partly due to his lagging in the physical department but also to strategic timing on his own part. He'd intended to be alone just so no one could comment on certain aspects of his body.

Still wincing he wiped the soaked hair from his brow and held his shirt bunched up in his hands. Seeing the faded barely visible dried blood flakes on the inside of his uniform. Quick to see it's origin was his sore chapped nipples. Red, puffy, irritated; he'd put off ignoring the scraping rub of them during the long periods of cardio the first few days. Now though reality was catching up with him. Irritated from the constant sweat and fabric chaffing him. Niko flinched a little when he touched just under his tender chest.

Ready to disregard them like he had the previous seven days. The budding soccer play forced himself to ignore the dull throb in his chest as he disrobed alone in the locker room. Assuring himself that a quick calming shower would ease the discomfort.

Unfortunately, it didn't.

The second water hit the chapped skin around his nipple Niko clasped a hand over his mouth to hide a gasp. Teeth clenching and toe curling they were more chapped than they were even the day before. Raw little nerve endings making his bottom lip quiver as he rushed the shower. Even regretting the choice to gloss over his torso with soap when it stung his poor puffy nipples. Finally unable to imagine another day of rubbing and chaffing with no end in sight for this training, he had to think of something to do.

Unable to do a majority of anything in the shared sleeping quarters. Niko was to consumed by his problem to want any of the other Blue Lock members see this. Aware that some would tease him about his appearance. He attempted to soothe the pain with a cold wash cloth. Even trying to dip himself in a colder second shower. Nothing was helping and as another day of aching pain in his chest dawned on him. Niko saw no other choice but to discreetly ask to be seen by the only medical professional Ego had said was on staff. A nurses touch was all that he had left in the hopes of finishing out this training camp without loosing it.

A surprise to you this late in the evening. Though the gig was 24/7 as stated on your contract. Nothing very eventful had happened except a few scrapes and contusions. So when the irritating little computer voice let you know someone needed to be seen as you were winding down for the day. It was safe to assume someone probably just needed an ibuprofen for a headache before bed or something.

More than just a little surprised when it was one of the quietest players you'd yet to see at all during the selection.

"Oh- Niko-" You sounded off utterly surprised to have him come in to your office when you called them in, "I'm sorry- Unprofessional of me-" Clearing your throat to put yourself back into the work mindset this late you straightened up in your chair, "Ikki Niko, what can I help you with?"

Though hard to tell with the bulk of his hair covering his eyes, his body language still read as nervous as the soccer player rubbed at his arm and shifted his weight on his feet as he stood in front of you, "I um- I'm sorry this is late- Really late in fact."

"Nonsense." You tried to offer him some peace of mind with a sweet smile, "I'm here to help. I was just surprised it was you, you always seemed so confident on the field and hadn't hurt yourself yet. Oh no-" Recalling for a second that they weren't working on soccer at the moment with all the strength training your mind jumped to what he might need, "Did something pull? I've got compresses, icy hot, hot and cold packs if you-"

"Do you have something for chapped um-" Niko fumbled into his words as he tried to say it in one go. They got caught up in his mouth though and he was looking down hiding behind his hair as he rubbed nervously at his upper arm, "For um- Well you see- My uh..." Finally he just had to come right out and say it, "I need something for my nipples they're chapped to the point of bleeding."

"Oh." Then it hit you and you accidentally looked a little surprised at him, "Oh! Oh of course." You quickly reel in your surprise and insist he take a seat while you look for something. Totally not unheard of you had just thought enough money was spent on this that the uniforms shouldn't have been too irritating. But everyone's skin was different and someone was bound to find the material irritating. Especially after the work Ego was forcing them to put in.

Niko sat with his hands clasped in his lap. Too sheepish to look up as he heard you rummaging through some containers. Only finally lifting his head when he saw the toes of your slippers when you stopped in front of him.

"Lanolin." You explained with the purple container in your grasp, "It's a barrier cream. But..." Broaching the subject gently with someone who obviously appeared a little nervous, you tried your best to seem blasé and sweet about it, "If they're bleeding chances are I need to look at them. You should have come in sooner if they were irritating you."

"I know..." Niko mumbled with his head down once more, "I just...prefer not to show people certain parts of me."

Setting a gentle hand on his knee you stirred his attention enough too look at you as you knelt down to eye level even with that mass of hair in the way, "Hey. No judgement here. A body is just a body. So-" A big smile to put him at ease as you held up the lanolin, "Let me help your body feel it's best, ok?"

Maybe it was the genuine smile. Or the simple fact he refused to give up over a little soreness and blood. Niko finally swallowed his nerves and lifted up his blue lock sweat shirt for you to see. And sure enough the red puffiness of his areolas were red enough to lead you to believe they might have bled a bit during cardio today. Not bleeding now you quickly took notice over what exactly he was probably trying to hide from people.

"Inverted nipples aren't actually all that crazy you know?" You asked if you could check to see if his swelling wasn't too close to an infection. Which Niko stiffed up a little but gave the go ahead. Tenderly tracing around his swollen nipples at least thankful to feel no hardness or radiant heat, he was in the clear for an infection as long as he took better care of it, "Lots of people have them. They aren't much of a commotion unless you're planning to breastfeed." A laugh to lighten the mood even if he stiffened up a little after you turned away to gather something out of a nearby drawer, "If it's alright, they should be cleaned a bit more properly then a barrier applied." You held up a washcloth to him, "Do you mind if I-?"

"N-No not at all." Niko vehemently shook his head. He had no idea why he agreed. At first wanting to get out of here as quickly as possible. But the moment your hands had touched around his pecs the soccer player felt a toe curling sensation that flirted with the pain of his sore nipples but also felt like something...different. Unsure what exactly. It had gotten his heart thumping and Niko spouted off before his tactful mind had thought of the right thing to say.

"We'll get you fixed up in no time." A happy chirp of your voice before the sound of rushing water filled the room.

Warm washcloth. A gentle soap. Niko sat gripping the edge of his chair nearly white knuckled and unable to unstick his tongue from the top of his dry mouth as you went to work. Holding the warm compress against each of his breast for a few seconds. He'd hoped his hitches in his breathing weren't too noticeable when it came to lathering them in a bit of gentle cleanser. Niko hiding a majority of his emotions behind his hair as your finger pads gently circled around the most inflamed part of his nipples. Slippery soap letting them glide over his puffy little nipples as you seemed engrossed in your work. Allowing him to stare at you uninterrupted in the silence of the small room. Unsure of why you cleaning him up felt so much better than the way he did just a little while ago in the shower.

Swiping away the soap gingerly you followed up by blotting his chest with the wet washcloth before unthinkingly leaning in and blowing a bit of air on his chest just to assure the skin was dry. Neither of you expecting the minor moan that peeped past his lips that had the both of you looking surprised at each other in the moment.

"Oh my god I'm sorry I-"

"It's fine it's fine it's fine." Niko chanted almost religiously as his hair began to fail in hiding his spreading blush.

You looked at the washcloth, quickly dropping it back in the sink behind you and trying to maintain your professionalism as you'd noticed his reactions to the way you'd washed him off previously, "The nipples are...well a sensitive spot on anyone. Human body stuff don't worry about it."

Niko realized he'd be sent out in a moments notice with the lanolin to do himself. All his awareness and it turned on him making him acutely aware that the tingle he'd felt through his body while you washed him up had some other not so slightly affects on his body. Mostly hidden by the bulk of bunched up fabric from the sweats he was wearing. Niko knew the second he stood up the outline of his cock would be seen. Though you could probably explain that away as you had gently done with the moan he accidentally let slip beforehand. Niko didn't want to leave as much as he also didn't want you to see his embarrassment.

"Can...Can you put the lanolin on?" He muttered immediately afraid of the rejection ready to come his way.

It didn't though. There was silence only understood why when Niko peeked up through his bangs. Heart jumping into his throat as he watched you squeeze some of the thick cream out onto your fingers. A copious amount at that. Though he had no idea what the right amount was. Only swallowing the hard lump in his throat that grew like the ache between his legs.

After realizing you fully intended to follow through with what he asked for. Niko held the hem of his shirt up around his face like a sheepish sorority girl. Chest exposed and easily accessible for your touch. Face flush with color and the lump in his throat growing like other things. He shifted in his chair hoping to hide his growing hard on from you even if he had asked you to rub his nipples down after all this.

With a gentle touch the heavy slick film of the lanolin was smeared across his puffy nipples by both hands. You attention to detail as you spread the foggy film over and around his chest. Circling his areolas. Grazing your finger pad carefully over his inverted nipple. And rubbing it back in with slow circular motions until it was evenly coated. Leaving a shiny coat of it over his swollen tits when you looked up at him.

Teal eyes locked onto you as he hid behind his shirt in front of you. None of it could defer the point of how incredibly turned on he obviously was. You'd noticed that the second you touched his sore skin with a washcloth. The tent in his sweats jumped to life but you hadn't want to say anything. Only making it more difficult to ignore when he'd uttered a little moan. Holding it together best you could it all just snapped. Sensitive nipped shy boy in front of you holding up his shirt as though he was inviting you for more. You hands couldn't be contained any longer.

"When you're sore like this..." You grabbed his nipples, feeling the gooey thickness of the lanolin glide your fingers over his puffy areolas with ease as you continued to slowly rub them as you'd done before, "It cane be good to massage them to make sure the barrier cream is really rubbed in after all..."

Niko's trembling grip on his own sweater was all that you got out of him as you glossed your fingertips over his nipples. Going even as far as to cup his pecs and rub your fingers over his hiding nipples. Teasing, touching and giving the utmost attention to as you continued to grope him. Smearing more of the cream into his chest. Turning it more into a lube as it ended up on more than just his nipples themselves.

Utterly enthralled with his tits in your hands you couldn't keep from pushing back on his tender areolas. Earning a gasp but he never once said stop. Pushing them back to see his budding little nipples hidden in them. Tiny and begging for relief. You could only think to do one thing.

Lean over and take the poor things into your mouth.

Tasteless lanolin on your lips didn't deter you. In fact made it that much easier to suck most of his nipple into your mouth as the other remained under the attentive attention of your hand. Plucking and squeezing it. While your tongue pressed into the little fold where his nipple hid. Finding the mark quickly as you flicked the tip of your tongue over his nipple and earning the loudest moan yet. Niko still holding up his shirt and trembling in his seat unable to stay quiet as you continued to suck on his tits.

"S-Sensitive-" He barely managed that squeak of a word when you turned your attention to the other tit.

The one covered in your spit and the lanolin now all slimy and that much easier to pull gently at. But as you continued the way he wanted them grabbed more seemed to only be insisted with the way he pushed into your face. Urging you without his words to be a little more rough with his chest. An obligation you couldn't ignore from a patient.

Sucking even rougher on his puffy nipple you began squeezing the other as you nursed. Niko's moans bubbling up in his chest and escaping his slacked lips. Breathing heavily above you as you pinched and pulled on his slippery nipples. Continuing to loose yourself in the soccer player's overly sensitive chest until a sudden new sensation made you stop to look at your hand.

Amazed by what clung to the fingers previously pulling at his nipples. You saw a thick milky bead roll down to the first knuckle of your finger.

"Aww you leak..." You reached back out and pulled on both of his nipples together. Confirming what you suspected when sticky beads of breastmilk rolled down on his nipples, "Though a little uncommon...I suppose they leak sometimes and that's why you didn't want anyone to see your cute little inverted nipples huh?" Niko stammered something but it was cut off when you tugged at them again. Forcing an expression as more beads of milk rolled down his chest, "Cute little milky boy..."

Gasping and groaning as you continued to milk him. It was obvious he must have done this often before blue lock. As the first dropped rolled out it seemed like you released a overflow of it. Asking him sweetly if he'd expressed himself since getting here. All Niko could do was shake his head holding his sweater with a white knuckled grip and gasping even louder the more you forced his breasts to leak over himself.

Rubbing the milk into his puffy little nipples you told him with all certainty that breastmilk was as excellent for them as the lanolin. Better in fact even. Insisting that if he was going to work so hard to be pro he'd need to do this daily. Or well at least while he was here in blue lock you could do it for him. Utterly engrossed in his leaking tits as you groped him without a second though. Adoring his rosy little nipples with your touch until a surprise took the both of you.

Niko groaned unable to stop himself. Quickly a wet spot began to form in his sweatpants. Not just a dot either. Seeping into the fabric as you twisted his nipples just to see his cock jumping to life in his pants and another blossom of wet adding to what was already in his pants.

"Did you-"

"I'm still cumming-" Niko gasped having to let go of his sweater and yank down his sweats.

And cumming in fact he still was. Your twirling fingers around his nipples didn't stop the flow of thick cum rolling down the underside of his cock. Niko holding the waistband of his pants down to keep the cum off them like they weren't already wet with it. His cock continuing to jump with little jolts of cum drooling from his tip when you rubbed his nipples. Fondling him with his pants pulled down you to continued to pull and play with his leaking nipples until the soccer player was utterly out of breath panting in your office chair. Milk slathered on his puffy nipples that were now even more rosy than when he came in. And his cum stained pants soaking up the rest of the cum that had rolled down his cock. Niko sat legs spread utterly out of breath and out of his mind as he struggled to gather his thoughts in front of you.

With lanolin and milk mixed on your fingers. It was impulsive to do so but you scribbled down something on a notepad next to where you'd originally pulled the lanolin out of. He only saw when you shoved the piece of paper in his hand and stood up wiping your soiled fingers on your shirt and looking down at him, "A note."

Niko blinked unsure he followed as he still sat with his cock softening and still too out of it to pull his pants up.

You gave a short roll to your eyes and sighed before leaning down and taking a kiss from the stunned player who nearly jumped to life the second your lips touched, "A doctor's note. So...we can see each other tomorrow of course. What kind of nurse doesn't take care of her star player's needs."

[chaosheadspace]

For the writer asks, for Library Boys!

2. How'd you get the idea, what kicked this off?

24. How did you celebrate finishing?

25-27 I would love to hear some favorite lines, details, and lore

28. Write a summary for it but badly

Hi TJ, thank you so much for asking! I apologise beforehand, this is almost 2.5K :)

2. How'd you get the idea, what kicked this off?

Originally, @notallsandmen asked me if I would write another enemies to lovers fic after Ill-advised things. By that time I had written a library sex scene for @staroftheendless's smut prompts (yes, the very one where Hob has Dream against the shelf, at least part of that). And I just couldn't stop developing headcanons about them in this AU, how they'd look, what they'd be like, what their background looks like.

I am very much a pantser, and in the beginning the plot was clear to me up to where Dream loses Orpheus and Hob tries to console him. Everything after that was loose points I was trying to connect. I remember having written most of it up until that point and the last chapter and thinking, "not much left now, I think I can start posting". Lol.

Everything that happens between those two points came to me after that, all of Hob's backstory (I struggled with that, he's been kinda hazy in my head), the very thorough dip into the mental illness theme (the bulletpoint in my brain sounded something like "make Murphy feel better and figure out what it is exactly—and see where it took me, two fights, a sex scene and a whole chapter focused on it), Orpheus's journey. This is precisely why I don't like outlining—I do better without. The pacing might be shot to hell, but tbh I don't care about that very much, I care about having put down all I wanted you to see, all I wanted you to know about these two.

24. How did you celebrate finishing?

By taking a break, by finishing the blanket that came with the fic (lol) and by going "I don't think they're all that happy yet" and writing a bunch for the sequel. I'm also gonna commission some art from my Christmas money this year (don't know who yet, but I've got a few scenes I'd like to see).

25-27 I would love to hear some favorite lines, details, and lore

Biggest fun fact that hasn't found it's way into readers focus (hopefully "yet"), is that Matthew is Jessamy's younger brother. At the very start I had a plan about Hob and Murphy being oblivious about that and them getting into a big fight only for those two getting them back together via shenanigans. But then Murphy demanded therapy, and Orpheus demanded screen time, and Hob begged for backstory, and suddenly it didn't fit anymore, tone wise. I'm hoping to fit more Matthew into the sequel.

Favourite lines is rather…uh… I mean, it's 90K 😬

I loved writing them kiss, every single time.

The opening to chapter five holds a special place in my heart (the description of campus on the day of the summer festival), as does the poor philosophy faculty member that keeps calling the stacks for books (this is really not how it works lol). A lot of what happens in non-Dreamling plot is taken from my personal experience. A lot of it happened to me, or to my coworkers. The library I picture them working at is the library I did my apprenticeship in. (I also detest Gorgonzola.) There really are people every year accidentally ordering a cart full of bound journals because they thought they'd get single issues. I always loved doing those and brining them up personally to see the face of the person that ordered them. Was worth the three quarters of an hour of work before and after every time. What I did not include is the small railway system we had. There were little waggons to put the books into, and they'd bring the books upstairs via rails on the ceiling. It's one of the coolest things I've ever seen in my life.

I loved this part:

He can suddenly see right through the thick layer of animosity like glass, and underneath it is a beaten, bloody, hurt thing."

And this one, because it's my Murphy, condensed into a paragraph, in all his confusion and hurt and love:

It feels good to have someone's attention on him, regardless of the kind. Murphy sometimes thinks he shouldn't encourage Hob's temper like that, should maybe apologise, and on his most lonely, sleepless nights he fantasises guiltily about making amends and asking Hob out. But what would Hob gain from that? Murphy has failed at marriage, the most long-term emotional commitment there is. And there is also Orpheus. Murphy loves him more than anything, but he knows that most single people consider children from previous, failed marriages baggage. It's the last thing Murphy wants for Orpheus, to feel secondary because of a relationship.

I also loved writing Orpheus deciding to go with Calliope, just because of how raw it is, and how true it feels. As a patchwork family kid myself, while not having been in the exact situation, I feel very deeply about all of this, and exploring why someone would let their child go, and why someone would encourage them to go, helped me tremendously.

This part I love because it shows the security that Hob gives Murphy even back when they were on bad terms, and just how wrong Murphy is and how deep his self-deception goes:

He starts to taunt Hob again. It's easy, so easy to fall back into it, almost as if they never stopped. Murphy carefully sharpens his tongue again and tries it out on Hob's thick skin. It feels safe. Neither of them mentions the closet and the hugs and Murphy's tears, and he is grateful. It's not real. This is.

This part is a feeling I have very often about emotionally charged situations bc I'm shit at them (the "oh fuck, the jig is up" feeling):

This is it, he realises, this is going to resolve things one way or another. Suddenly Hob wishes Dream had called in sick for a day longer, or two, or had stopped him two days ago when he'd walked out of his office. He can't stand it. He can't face it, either. But he must.

I'm also very proud of this, because it's the turning point of the whole story and I think I executed it rather well. It's the most revised part of the whole story, and the one that took the longest, writing wise:

"Wait wait wait," Hob interrupts him and all blood leaves his face. "What's this about deserving? Did you—Have you used me to punish yourself because you don't think you deserve basic kindness?!" He is so tense that he feels his muscles might spring out of his skin, so angry that he thinks his blood might boil out of his ears. And then. And then all the tension melts out of Dream as he sees him getting angry, relief etched into his face and rimming his eyes with red, and something in Hob breaks. This is the part of Hob he is used to. This is the Hob he knows and is comfortable with. Shame and grief so profound it settles in his bones creeps up from his toes and into his heart. He doesn't want that. He wants, needs it to be different. "Oh love," he says, voice thick with sorrow, and sits down next to Morpheus on his kitchen bench, taking his hands into his own. "Oh darling, no."

I'm throwing this one in, too, because I think I was really fucking funny:

The only positive effect this information has on Hob is that it makes his erection wilt like a candle in front of a blowtorch.

I also loved doing the phone screenshots of their texts with the secret emoji story from the evening before that played out during the phone call chapter, but I don't think anyone picked up on that. It was fun regardless, a nice little easter egg.

I am skimming the story for this and am only on chapter 16. I think I have to reign myself in a bit. Chapter 16 is also kind of a companion chapter to ch13 (where they get their shit together) in terms of emotional intensity. While in chapter 13 they had to painfully try and pull themselves together, to be honest and open even if it hurt, chapter 16 is the culmination of the new start they made for themselves, a little bit of "what if we hadn't been like that from the start" but better, because of course they have been like that, and imo dropping a weight like that lets people fly higher. A tender start would have been sweet and nothing else, but here they're conscious of quite a few of each other's flaws, and know the other is earnestly trying to put the work in, and that makes it as delicious as an overripe peach eaten over the sink, sticky and ecstatic and glorious.

This:

The giggle Hob has been suppressing bubbles up his throat, and he moves quickly to tap his index finger to the soft wet redness. Scandalised, Murphy pulls his head back, smacking his lips. "Bah," he says, taken aback. "Who does that?" "I do," Hob says, still giggling. "Worked, didn't it?" "You," Murphy proclaims, swaying back to him and holding onto his hips, "are the worst." And then he licks a long, wet stripe up the side of Hob's face.

I just love their silly. They need the silly. Even if I forget, they demand it themselves.

All the house/home metaphors I did for Murphy's life, and the sea metaphors I did for his mental health journey.

Also proud that I managed to still keep them real and make them fight and make up and not have them be happy lovey doves all the time (which may seem surprising considering all I put them through, but still). I wanted to be conscious of making their relationship equal, to not have Hob carry Murphy's issues but have him lean on him, too (although he's certainly the stronger one of them, emotionally. Carrying wise, I mean.), to have them give and take in equal measure.

There was also a short snippet of Hob meeting Jessamy, that would originally go into chapter 20. But it didn't fit the tone, and the chapter did better what I wanted from it without it, so it got cut. Generally speaking, there's very little scenes that got cut. I don't care about pacing that much, and even less if a scene is necessary or not. If it's something I want to tell, I'm gonna include it. But there's a few that took the story in a direction that I didn't like, and that I wrote quite early on, that didn't fit the story as it progressed. (notably, for the sequel, Orpheus finding a dog while playing with his best friend and Hob and Murphy adopting it.)

This one, for me, is the best sentence from the recovery chapter:

He needs—no, he wants to take it into his own hands, so that his happiness stops being a thing that other people need to give him."

(I also asked notallsandmen if the sex scene at the end is over the top, and they told me that not only is Murphy on antidepressants, he's also in love, and at that point I threw caution out the window and decided they can as happy and as schmoopy as I want them to be.)

Chapter 22 was entirely unplanned. At one point I realised that while readers have an approximation of Murphy's past, Hob still has no idea what happened :D

I also loved doing the Christmas chapter. I put a lot of thought in what celebrations like this might look for Orpheus as a kid of two cultures. I think some traditions would have been quite important to Calliope, not because I picture her as particularly religious, but because I think she would have liked to keep them while living in England. And I think Murphy would have agreed with her, because he wanted her to be happy, and I don't think that he's got particularly happy memories associated with family celebrations until Calliope, and he might even have seen it as a way to break away from his own family and his own past, just like his marriage in general had been. So the abundance of greek Christmas traditions is very much on purpose.

I also love any and all interactions between Hob and Orpheus.

This one, because it always makes me cry, even when rereading my own story:

“Hello, little sparrow.” He’s sure that his relief bleeds through into his tone, softening his voice to a sweet, velvety caress. Orpheus makes an indefinable sound at the endearment. “You've called every day for a week,” he says, unsure. “I did,” Murphy assents. “Thank you for speaking to me today. I missed you.”

Also loved reusing this one, even if it might be too sugary:

“D’you think it'll work out?” He finally says. “All of it?” Turning his head slightly, Murphy kisses Hob's temple, his cheek, his neck. “We try,” he says, gently. “We try and try, and sometimes that means we fail. But Hob, it also means that more often than not, we make it work.”

I also love the last chapter and the conclusion to bits, but sometimes I worry that it might feel like a haphazardly slapped on bandaid to some readers (which it it very much not. It's another testament to both of their stellar decision making, and it will come to bite them in the ass :D).

This turned into a very long and convoluted ramble, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless.

28. Write a summary for it but badly

I cannot decide, so you're getting all of them (yes, I crowdsourced):

Library 4.0: parkour edition

Dr. D. M. Olympiou's and R. Gadlings guide on how to regulate your behaviour in library spaces using real life negative examples, now with annex detailing the consequences for your private life

'In which library assistant Hob finds himself the prime subject of new subject librarian Dream Olympiou's study onwhether you're being checked out of the library or checked out at the library.' (courtesy of @sleepsonfutons)

Two insecure idiots fuck around and find out…that they’re actually really good together (courtesy of @edgedancer77)

Surrounded by idiots: The four types of human behaviour and how to effectively fumble all of them when it comes to your hot but asshole coworker (based on: Surrounded by Idiots: The Four Types of Human Behavior and How to Effectively Communicate with Each in Business (and in Life))

How to hatefuck your way into better mental health (courtesy of @reallyintoscience)

[thebaffledcaptain]

Things that happened at the 250th anniversary of the changing of command at Old Fort Niagara

as recounted by a humble fifer of His Majesty's 22nd Regiment of Foot, for his own records:

The unit got to sleep in the French Castle, which sounds much more luxurious than it was, but I’m still happy we had the chance to do it—it’s the main barracks building in the fort, with three stories that house officers’ quarters, mess halls, store rooms, and even a chapel. In period accurate style, however, the regiment was quartered on the third floor where something like a hundred soldiers would have slept on wooden pallets around the perimeter of the room.

Three of us, myself included, squeezed into the weird little nook between the two doorways and decided that was the most fun place to sleep.

In hindsight I can only assume it was not the most fun place to sleep because man was it hot in there. The site had the windows padlocked and some people had to go convince a staff member to open them so we wouldn’t suffocate the next night as well.

Two unfortunate souls swore up and down that they had an encounter with a ghost on the first night and immediately ran down to the chapel on the second floor. It was not until after I left that I discovered the site is rumored to be haunted by…. *checks notes* a Headless Frenchman?

There were a ludicrous amount of donuts for breakfast both days. Like, every flavor you could imagine, laid out across four modern folding tables. That was how the Fort justified not providing us with any sort of rations. Just… an absurd amount of donuts.

On the second day I ate my donut watching two highlanders struggle to set up a stretcher, assuming they were probably going to do some kind of medical demo with it later

As I’m walking back to the barracks with my friend I hear a voice behind me go “make way for the King’s donuts!”

I turn around and the same two highlanders are carrying eight donuts, each in a different flavor on its own individual plate, perfectly laid out in a line that spans the entire length of the stretcher. Here’s the visual because you need one.

Somehow I managed to lose the entire regiment on the first day. They said they were going off to drill and apparently went so far from the Fort that I could not find them until they returned—last out of every other unit drilling, of course

During this time the 54th doctor saw that I looked abandoned and offered me a seat next to his operating table and… dismembered limbs etc etc. I accepted for the shade though with some trepidation.

My fellow 22nd fifer abandoned me to be a man-at-arms this weekend. The 54th drummer and I got some quality bonding time as the only musicians in our battalion.

We did make kind of an executive decision to detach ourselves from the 43rd when we split into companies after watching them accidentally wheel themselves into a corner of some sort… but, you know. No one cares what music does anyway

In fact one of the 8th fifers aptly described our job as to criticize and/or commentate on the rest of the goings-on we had no part in, in a fashion I describe as being much like a bunch of little peacocks in the back. If I’m being honest that’s my favorite part of the role.

In accordance with this principle, my fellow fifer and I took it upon ourselves to put lavender sprigs in as many of the regiment’s hats as we could. We didn’t get very far but the sentiment was there.

Our sergeant took it upon himself to explain the origin of the word “cock” on multiple occasions because the fully grown adult men in this unit have the collective maturity of a 12 year old

Kind of disappointed with the tavern night (bad beer and not even in a historical part of the fort) but ended up having a long conversation with some 54th guys, so now I can say I was challenged to a duel by the 54th sergeant?

Alright, slight exaggeration there—both of us fence and while I saw him doing some friendly sparring with a few other people, we never got the chance for a bout, so now it's up in the air for the next event we're both at.

Also, he said "Spepsi" instead of "Pepsi" exactly one (1) time and I tormented him with it for the rest of the night. It's a good thing he's not my sergeant or I might be digging myself into a hole with that.

Watched two highlanders at the front of their files wheel decisively left when a right wheel was called and then sheepishly jog back to the rest of their unit

Greatly enjoyed hearing one of our guys’ “deaths” on the battlefield, which are famous for his Wilhelm scream-esque exclamations

On two occasions, the 54th sergeant turned to me (once on the battlefield, once in the middle of a very solemn memorial service) to tell me “it’s stinky over here”

I did not think this would be the event where I bonded with an NCO from a regiment I was not a part of but I’ll take it

The regiment bought $700 worth of Russian Drill from one of the sutlers. Cleared out his stock. Needless to say a pair of Russian Drill britches is in my future

On the second day for some reason the Drum Major decided not to do any kind of drummer’s call before forming up for battle and just told us musicians to be on the lookout.

I was there for that announcement and stuck with my regiment so I was fine. The 54th drummer, however, was not aware of this and the entire battalion marched past him as he was just sitting under one of the tents—I waved to him hoping he would join us but he just… waved back at me…

Cut to five minutes later—the 54th sergeant turns to me and goes “where’s [drummer]?” and I have to tell him we just… marched right past him. We give it another minute and suddenly, in the distance, the disheveled green figure of the 54th drummer frantically running to catch up to us… poor fellow. Not his fault nobody communicated to him. Which is a problem that could easily be solved by, you know, utilizing the Music (as would have been historically accurate), but apparently no one wants to do that…

I seem to be making a bit of a name for myself as the British Army’s Mandolinist in Residence, or, as some of my comrades have nicknamed me, “The Mandolier” (which. I have to be honest. Is a cooler term)

On Saturday night my fellow fifer and I stayed up until almost two in the morning singing despite the knowledge we had to be up at 6 to do reveille. However I did not regret this decision then nor do I now.

Nothing compares to the experience of singing Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald at midnight, sitting on a wall that drops off straight into Lake Ontario, at a centuries-old fort with no one around. This was Sunday night, when most of the units had left and we had the fort to ourselves and a handful of other souls who couldn’t bring themselves to leave the 18th century just yet—in fact, we had been about to finish our music for the night and our little group had been turning to leave when we started the song and the rest of them came running back.

Indeed, it’s been a week since and I am still not ready to be in the 21st century, nor am I ever, but of all the ways to end this event, I’ll take that one.

[bomberqueen17]

Big Easy

I am on vacation this week in New Orleans. There are many reasons for this but mostly they're not about me. I'm just here for the ride. Hilariously the one thing I found on on my own that I was like "oh i gotta do that while we're here" is also the thing that has been recommended to me by literally everyone i've spoken to including the Lyft driver from the airport, which is the WWII Museum, and conversely the more people recommend it the more I'm like :/ I might not enjoy this that much. WWII history was a childhood hyperfixation of mine but I've found the shit I was into about it is not the stuff other people like about it. This museum features a movie narrated by Tom Hanks so I feel like it's going to mm emphasize the bits I don't care about a lot. BUT I am going to go and I am probably going to devote a whole day. The upside of this is that probably Dude will not be deadly bored by it. He does tend to have the issue of not being into what I'm into sometimes... but this will probably be fine.

My hip is doing okay, the one I've been physically therapizing for ages? But what's popped up is that as the bad hip heals, the "good" hip starts giving me trouble-- I have prettty bad sciatic nerve problems on that side, and I didn't notice them so much because the cartilage tear on the bad side hurt enough to distract me. But lately it's like-- a little electric current of Badness inside the back of my right knee. No fun. But I've been doing physical therapy exercises for about fifteen weeks now (I just counted), three times a week, so I'd damn well better have seen some improvement LOL.

But mostly I can walk around, and I have a better idea earlier on whether walking is going to be good for me or not, so idk it's progress.

So far I have had a few bites of a shrimp po'boy (in the Atlanta airport, where we ordered something else and the waitress didn't hear us and just brought better food, no regrets on our part), some amazing gumbo, a bit of really good crawfish etouffe, and a really good Hurricane cocktail, and have seen the steamboat Natchez going up the MIssissippi with a brass band playing on it. Oh yeah there was a live band at the baggage claim? Apparently there were Many Doings in the French Quarter last night because of Cinco de Mayo, our Lyft driver was explaining they'd barricaded a bunch of the streets and she was delighted they'd moved one barricade because otherwise she could not have dropped us at our hotel. But by the later evening when we were out and about it wasn't quite so crowded but there were police cars and sirens and apparently some kind of disturbance a couple blocks away from our hotel. We kept walking because whatever it was was Not Our Business.

I'm mostly here for the food. I brought mostly me-made clothes. I was wearing a nice button-up shirt to fly in, and i sat at the gate during our layover and hand-bound two of the last three buttonholes on it (I'd cut and overcasted them at home but ran out of time). Relaxing and chill, honestly.

There are a couple of fabric stores I want to visit but apart from that I have zero agenda. Maybe Dude came up with something. I think he's mostly been researching restaurants.

I did not expect this, though: I know the names of so many of the places here from the news coverage of Katrina, and when I saw the Superdome in person i started crying, and had to explain to the driver that I'd been an airport bartender during that time and so had been stuck in front of huge TVs with 24h live coverage, and I'd had a bunch of online friends living there and I didn't realize until this moment how much it scarred me, so I could only imagine for the people here, and she talked about how she'd been a cleaner in an apartment complex at the time (I'd sussed that she was my age or older so I figured she'd remember it as well as I do, because to my shock that was 20 years ago now) and how many people had just left and never come back, had abandoned their possessions and just never came back for them because the power didn't come back on for two or three months.

She said "Now I know, when they tell you to evacuate, you get the hell out."

She also complained that nobody knows how to act, because it's all tourists. Which, fair.

... Anyway, anyone with recs for New Orleans feel free to tell them to me, I'm just here for the food and the vibes.

[wishing-stones]

hey there! first time asking and i am.. pretty nervous :') not sure how nightmare's body works for your au, but how would the boys™ react if nightmare was somehow weakened enough to have his passive body revealed under all the corruption and not die? (or yes die, if that's what you're about lol) thanks!

Awww don't be nervous! I don't bite.

Nightmare's body is largely permanently colored by the corruption, but it can weaken, and he's still a (mostly) complete, white-boned skeleton under it.

Without active corruption, Nightmare is around 5'6" (or your height) and has some damage around his right eye socket. The light still forms, but his vision isn't so great. (Still a far cry better than 'normal,' where he can't see at all). His eyelight in that socket is purple, and the one in his left is cyan, no matter what form he's in. Sometimes it'll be half-and-half, if he's especially weak or in his feelings, but he's usually got the full heterochromia thing going on.

Fortunately, it just kind of retreats into the inner void of his body/skull if it's too weak to fully encase him, so it's all or nothing with the curse/corruption. It won't kill him, but he is much more vulnerable when he's passive.

The guys would be surprised, to say the least, but they'd also make the (correct) assumption that he's not as sturdy as he usually is and should be guarded. Nightmare definitely tried to hide this, but with a bunch of intuitive, smart underlings, it's hard to maintain the illusion that 'everything's fine, I'm just going to stay in bed for a while.'

Still, no one's going to lose respect for him, or make fun of him (in any seriousness-- we all know Killer is Required By Law to give him some guff) in any real capacity. He'd get a little babied, actually, until he told them all to knock it off, and then it's only Axe who babies him. (He can't get Axe to stop.)

Everyone is sworn to secrecy, because he especially does not need Dream finding out about this. He'd never stop crying, and Nightmare doesn't want to deal with that, thank you very much.

This does happen every great so often, especially after things get reconciled with his brother. Without active malice and hatred to feed on, the corruption kind of ebbs away and 'rests' to regain strength, and then it comes back strong as ever. He's actually quite strong when it comes back because it's refreshed, and he usually feels his oats a bit when it comes back.

It's the only aspect of the curse/corruption that he can't really control. Since he doesn't have a ton of enemies anymore, or at least ones who would be able to take advantage of such a situation, it's just a mild inconvenience rather than a cause for alarm.

More little facts about this:

He sounds different while passive. If he tries really hard, he can get into his normal, deeper register, but it takes a bit. He sounds a lot younger (still an adult, but younger and higher) and gets a little bit sensitive about it, actually.

He's also sensitive about his height. He loses 8 inches or better, and he doesn't like it. Yes, he wears platforms to make himself at least taller than the others (save Axe) if he's up and about, and not sulking in his room.

He views it as an inconvenience, but he hates feeling vulnerable. He's worn the corruption so long, to not have it makes him feel naked, and it's not something he handles terribly well.

He's also more sensitive to: temperature, touch, elements, and Intent. He gets cold easily, so he's usually close to some heat source. This sometimes includes the boys, and they have cuddle-puddled to make him feel safer.

He will break out his crown and wear it. It's a newer one-- his old crown won't fit because it didn't grow with him. he wears a silver crown with a more elegant crescent moon fixture (not entirely unlike this, but solid and without decoration) with a three-quarter moon taking up the void of the crescent, leaving a small gap between the two. He also wears much less gold and much more silver, although he does wear gold with purple, since it's very regal looking.

Hand-in-hand with the above, he breaks out good fancy clothing, too, since he's not in danger of staining it, and it feels nice on not-corrupted bones. Silk, satin, velvet... very fine clothing.

He also wears a weighted cape. While he doesn't always have his tentacles out, he will over-correct for their weight when they aren't present, and he's fallen over before when turning because of it. (After Killer was done laughing, he helped devise the cape.) It's a lovely little capelet that hangs over one shoulder, but drapes otherwise evenly across the back to the small of his back.

He's usually passive for 1-2 weeks, and then it won't happen again for a couple years, if he's lucky, or 10-12 months if he's not. This only started happening once Dream broke out of the statue, so while it's a fairly new development, it's one that he's learned to deal with and has procedures for.

I mentioned it before with Dream in R&R, but his bones have kind of a pearlescent sheen to them. Dream's is warmer (like a cream pearl), but Nightmare's is cooler (like a silver pearl). They're both Demi-gods, after all.

Interestingly enough, I've been working with this idea recently.

[mayimkjs]

Microanalyzing MeMe

Taken from the FOOL's MATE research doc.

This includes theories and thoughts from a bunch of different people.

I will be separating some things into Trikoto and Twokoto variants.

The moon is in its First Quarter. It’s halfway between the New Moon, which represents the beginning of a new journey, and the Full Moon, which represents the end of something or rebirth. And thus, it can represent a difficult time where decisions must be made and a point where strength of will is necessary. This could seen as John making decisions with Mikoto being left in the dark. That would explain why the moon only shows up in relation to John.

This scene could represent how their future is scattered, uncertain and messy as tarot cards tell the future. 

Throughout the murder, he is wearing a beanie, as if to conceal his identity from the viewer.

Trikoto: These scenes are mainly green, his eye is red and the bulk of the eye shine on the bottom. I see this as John and Midokoto working together in some way shape or form to kill someone. John would be the one to kill someone and Mido would be the one to deal with the aftermath. They are working together to keep this from Mikoto. Another thing that contributes to this theory is that only one eye is ever shown. 

Trikoto: So going off of that, this scene would be Midokoto doing his part of the job and handling the cleaning up.

Trikoto: He points at his head 3 times. As if signaling to the viewer that there are 3 of them. When the scene swirls out, it has an RGB filter over it. Each color is associated with an alter. Blue for Mikoto, red for John and green for Midokoto. Bundled with the line that plays during this scene (Switch, Shake up that brain), it seems that this is referencing Mikoto, John and Midokoto.

Mikoto wakes up in his inner world confused. There are tarot cards scattered on the table, so he takes one. We then see 3 shots of tarot cards. Each shot contains the same 10 cards in the same positions except the 3rd where 3 are moved. It then jumps to the Devil card before his actual card is revealed to be a blank card.

Back to the murder, we see John looking over something, possibly his victim. He could also be burying him but, given that there's a phone pole in the background. I don't think that's what's happening here.

John or Mido puts the body or other evidence in a trash bag and throws it into a dumpster. Their sloppy work makes me think this is the first murder. They also throw the beanie away. Both of these shots show that he is not a calculated killer as the murder was very sloppy. He threw away trash in an area where illegal dumping would be reported and he left DNA evidence. I also don’t think that the bat is in the bag. It’s likely just the body and his jacket. 

In this scene, it seems that Mikoto could be dissociating. 

In the mirror in the real world, you see Mikoto looking around confused and concerned. In the inner world, John is in the mirror. This shows that John has now fronted. Maybe Mikoto knows that somethings up. There’s also a chance that these shots aren’t sequential. This and the next scenes could also be him realizing that the person ruining his life is both not him and him at the same time. 

Mikoto is startled by this. He then falls and is given a card. He receives The Devil card without having a choice while he's fallen down in a vulnerable position. The card then turns black. He drops it and the room turns red.

He panics and John/Mido appears behind him with his hands in the shape of a gun to his head as if to threaten him. 

The surveillance footage can be interpreted as the altars watching Mikoto. Mikoto is stressed. He has likely come from work.

Trikoto: This could be Midokoto dealing with the aftermath of another murder since he’s smoking real cigarettes. 

Twokoto: Some people say that this scene is a suicide attempt. Personally, I’m hesitant about that. The shower and mirror scenes often are paired with the last as well as the suicide atempt theory. In this theory, he’s losing consciousness in the scene on the right.

Mikoto is addressing the audience/Es.

Here, he’s stacking the deck up neatly. He's trying to take control of his own destiny. Control of his life is very important to Mikoto. Or, he’s shuffling his deck to properly understand what is going on.

He snaps then the room turns red. Mikoto has now fronted and John is back in the inner world. This could also symbolize a switch. 

Trikoto: We don't see his head in this shot so this could be Mido.

John draws a card and shows it to the audience as if to say it's not his. His expression goes from cheery to cold. 

John is seems to be having a conversation with someone within the inner world. He then draws 8 more tarot cards and the conversation continues. 

The paintings in the corner of the room are shown. These are not a part of the spread. The chair is then shown again.

Trikoto: This is possibly Midokoto as his hair is covering one eye.

John hands someone a card and puts in on the table.

The next card to appear is The Chariot. The Chariot card is interesting. Mainly the bikes. One of them is fine, the other is exploding. These bikes could represent Mikoto and John in relation to John’s actions. The mannequin has direct control over one of them. But the other is exploding and the mannequin has a mace in the same hand that shares the chains connected to that bike. John just wants to protect him, but he does so in a harmful way and it destroys the control Mikoto wants to have over his life.

The last card he puts down is Death.

Trikoto: The Kayano that is receiving the card isn’t wearing a jacket. This could very likely be Midokoto. 

During the last scene, “John” suddenly looks surprised. I see this as Mikoto either fronting for a few seconds or somehow seeing what John is doing. 

The fourth wall being broken at the end shows that the MILGRAM system may have found something that isn’t a memory, but a conversation between John and Mikoto or Midokoto in the inner world. 

This entire MV is very out of order. Here is the order I think the events happen in.

Trikoto

Timeline 1 (John/Midokoto)

Mikoto comes home from work and has a breakdown because of the stress.

John goes to Midokoto and proposes a plan to get some stress off of Mikoto.

John kills someone with Mido watching.

Mido cleans up and deals with the aftermath.

Timeline 2 (Mikoto/John)

Mikoto wakes up in his inner world and does not know what's going on. 

He eventually encounters John after he has killed someone. 

Mido quickly has Mikoto front to avoid any type of confrontation. 

Twokoto

Timeline 1 (John)

Mikoto comes home from work and has a breakdown because of the stress.

John kills someone. 

He then cleans up the aftermath. 

Timeline 2 (Mikoto)

Mikoto wakes up in his inner world and does not know what's going on. 

He eventually encounters John after he has killed someone. 

Mikoto then fronts, leaving John alone in the inner world.

Other Details

Framing of the events of the murders as a horror movie speaks to how Mikoto views his actions.

MeMe takes advantage of the assumption that there is one Kayano.

MeMe is generally told from Mikoto’s POV.

John is portrayed as scary and evil because that's what Mikoto assumes is happening. 

[moonshinemusings]

TF 141 + friends during Christmas headcanons (with s/o included) (Pt.2)

Warnings: none

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you enjoy these <3

Alejandro Vargas

• Doesn't like the cold, if he could he'd stay inside until it turned warmer again

• He thinks snow is beautiful, but only when he doesn't get any on himself or his stuff. Loves watching it snowing from inside the house though

• Despite that, one of his favourite holidays is still Christmas, because family means everything to him and every year he can celebrate with everyone he loves

• Traditions mean a lot to him, so that's another big factor

• He's a talented cook, so most of the food will be either put on the table by him, or he's going to encourage you to help him/make your own traditional dishes so you can enjoy both

• One of his love languages is also cooking for you, so it's beneficial for the both of you lol

• He's cheeky and likes hanging mistletoes over doors, hoping you two will step under them at the same time

• Likes lighting candles - even scented ones - while bunking down with blankets and reading, listening to soft Christmas music or just relaxing together after a long day

• You can't help but tease him when he puts on multiple layers before going out because he looks bulkier than usual, but somehow he pulls even that look off

• Has an angelic voice when he sings Christmas songs, and when he softly plays his guitar while humming them.. that's truly heavenly

• He's willing to wear silly hats, deer antlers or ugly sweaters even to work, but they always tease him

• That's fine though, he just makes everyone wear something silly too

• He also has matching sweaters with Rudy (like the ones with half of a deer on each or something similar)

• He always makes sure his brothers can get home to celebrate the holidays with their families. Usually him and Rudy are the only ones left at base during the last few days with a few stand-bye guys

• The festive mood around the base is never prohibited because he knows the men will still focus on their jobs at hand. He lets them hang ornaments, make small decorations and joke around

• They also have a small plastic tree that they put up in the main quarters every year. As Colonel, he gets to put the star on the top every time without fail

• He pays attention to either leave small gifts for his men or let them get away with more than usual and let them off the hook more

• Family celebrations include: meeting a bunch of relatives (many kids too), swapping meaningful presents, trying traditional dishes and drinking home made liquor and similar alcoholic drinks

• His family is really welcoming, but if you don't want to spend Christmas with them that's okay with him

• He might get upset about that at first, but eventually he's going to understand if you reason with him

• His presents are never something big in physical means, but they are always very thoughtful and heartwarming. Some examples include real silver earrings, matching scarves with your initials sewn on them (you got the A.V. one and he got yours), your favourite choice of drink with a new parfume you liked at the shop etc.

• He doesn't expect anything in return, but if he gets something he's really going to cherish it

• His lips tend to get chapped during the cold weather, so you should give him a nice flavoured chapstick. He's going to use it 100% and you will have the luck to see his lips all plump and soft, tasting like fruits or something similarly pleasant

• He loves Christmas fairs and will always make time to go and enjoy them, preferably with you by his side (and with some hot drinks)

• Don't make him watch shitty movies because he's going to complain the entire time and it won't be a good experience

• There are a few movies he likes though, because they always watch them as a family tradition

--- ☃ ---

Rodolfo Parra

• Constant victim of Rudolf jokes, especially from Soap

• He swears he has seen Santa when he was like 5 and he never forgot about it

• Him and Alejandro usually write cards for their brothers and sometimes even their families

• He likes giving several smaller gifts rather than a big one. They are always leading up to the most important one, like following the calendar you will get 5 presents every day before Christmas, then one on that day

• Often gets emotional when receiving them though, it always makes him feel loved and appreciated

• They always celebrate together with Alejandro and their families, they have been since they were little. He won't get mad if you don't want to spend these days with them, but he's going to miss you from next to him

• Doesn't trust candles because they are a fire hazard, but he likes Christmas lights

• A pro at wrapping presents, he usually even signs them with a little heart following his name. He always finds adorable wrapping papers too

• He likes matching clothes, so naturally he's going to wear ugly sweaters with you. Bonus points if you find ones that are actually cute

• Makes gingerbread cookies of everyone on the team and gets all pouty when they get their head chomped off (khm Alejandro)

• He's a good cook, so at Christmas he's usually in the kitchen making dishes. He's more than happy to let you help and introduce you to his favourite meals

• Like the sneaky little shit he is, he's going to sneak small notes everywhere and watch you have various reactions. They will containt Christmas themed jokes or pick up lines and all of them are going to be horrible. They will be things like "I must be a snowflake, because I’ve fallen for you" or "What happens when Santa Claus gets stuck in a chimney? He gets Claustrophobia!"

• Loves cheesy Christmas songs and movies, even the really bad ones. He likes romantic movies and the holidays, so those two combined can make him really happy

• He still puts his boots out all the time because he forgets himself. It's adorable how bashful he becomes about it when he realizes though

• Will play with you in the snow, but he's usually the one to pay attention and warn you when you two are starting to get soaked and too cold

--- ☃ ---

König

• One of his favourite seasons is winter. He's used to the cold since he grew up in a generally chilly country so it never bothers him too much. It even reminds him of fond memories and his home

• Loves winter sports like ice skaing and skiing, altough he's not the best at them. He enjoys them though, falling down and everything

• He is the type to just sit and watch the snow falling for hours. He loves being buried under warm blankets, preferably with you in his arms while you two watch the snow and tell stories to each other

• König is generally warm, like a personal furnace, so cuddling with him is always amazing. But it's even better during winter, when you two are outside and you can just snuggle into his side to keep you warm

• He grew up with a lot of traditions and he'd be very happy to introduce you to them if yours aren't the same

• His family is pretty small, but they are really welcoming. If you decide to join him during the holidays, he's going to be overjoyed

• Often he forgets himself and stays outside for too long, usually without the proper clothing. His hands become freezing cold, his nose and face get a red tint and his lips turn a lighter shade. He looks cute like that, especially when he gets inside and realizes how cold he really is

• Always makes sure you get a present that you will like. He's stressing over the right one for weeks before Christmas, and only calms truly down when you reassure him that you love it when he gives it to you

• He gets really emotional if you gift him something in return. It's a further indication that you appreciate and love him and he's going to be overflown with positive emotions

• Loves hot chocolate, especially if you put marshmallows in it and cinnamon on top

• Now that I mentioned it, he loves everything that's cinnamon flavoured. He's also a big fan of Christmas candy

• He's going to wear a Santa hat around the house 24/7, but he will switch to deer antlers if you ask him to

• Loves cooking together with you. He's pretty good in the kitchen, and being able to cook with you gives him all the domestic feelings

• You can bet if you have a pet, he's going to spoil them and give them presents too

• It's laughable how easily he can reach the top of the Christmas tree, so you never have to worry about putting the star up

• Similar with the lights and mistletoes

• He gets super shy when you two end up under a mistletoe. His face gets all red and he stutters over words, but always gives you a sweet kiss

• Speaking of, kisses that taste like cinnamon and Christmas candy.. yeah <3

• He loves decorating, and often gets so into it, that you have to remind him that he's going to have to take them off when the holiday is over too. He always gets embarrassed, but you don't mind

• He likes seeing the city with all the lights up and such, but he'd rather stay at home with you, enjoying the holidays just the two of you. He doesn't like crowds anyways

• Every year you two take a picture of you at Christmas night, all dressed up with the tree in the background. All of these get put into frames and they all stand on top of the fireplace

--- ☃ ---

Alex

• The type of guy to find something positive in everything, so he enjoys the cold and snow to an extent

• Absolutely demolishes you in snowball fights, you have no chance of winning, only if he lets you

• He gets cold easily though, so you will see him wearing multiple layers with beanies and scarves on top

• He always acts like it doesn't bother him, but it's hilarious seeing him freezing and still being stubborn

• He doesn't really have traditions, only a few things other people do too (decorating the tree etc.)

• He's glad to join you in celebrating though, he loves seeing you happy and he'd do anything to bring you joy

• Cheesy presents that always come from his heart, even if they seem silly at first

• He's a little clumsy in the kitchen, but he'd love to assist you in cooking or to help with anything he can

• He adores Christmas cookies and sweets, if you don't pay attention he's going to eat them the very day you made them

• Willing to wear silly sweaters and similar for you, but only because the others can't see. He doesn't want to listen to all the teasing, even though he'd do the same to them

• He will sit down with you to watch bad Christmas movies, but he's going to constantly make fun of it and make you laugh. Honestly, he's going to be way funnier than whatever movie you're watching

• He likes sitting on the porch with a hot drink, having you by his side, just quietly existing together. He appreciates the calm moments the holiday day offs give him with you

• Sing cheesy Christmas songs to him please, he's going to get shy and bashful. After he gets through that, he's going to sing to you too though, putting how whole heart into it

• Somehow he always gets dumb ornaments to put on the tree (a dinosaur for example)

• They often get together during these times with Farah and he'd love to have you by his side

--- ☃ ---

Farah Karim

• It doesn't get too cold where she lives and snow is also rare. If you take her to your home country and there is snow, she's going to be mesmerized though

• She's not the best cook, but when it comes to baking she's a pro. She always decorates gingerbread cookies in a really cute way too

• She likes singing Christmas songs with you, dancing in the kitchen while making the dishes

• She's good at giving heartfelt presents, even when sometimes she doubts herself about it

• You two totally have matching PJs, at least one pair if not more

• The holidays are for family, and she'd be happy to invite you to their gatherings

• You two often end up slightly drunk on the couch while criticising bad movies and just having the time of your lives

• She just overall enjoys spending time with you, the holiday vibes are just a bonus really

--- ☃ ---

If you don't like the holidays (personal reasons or otherwise) or don't have anyone to spend them with, all of these guys are more than willing to be by your side. They are happy to take you to their family gatherings or to their teams, and they would never force you to celebrate something you wouldn't want to. They will always make sure you are comfortable with their ideas and their top priority will be your happiness :)

[nokingsonlyfooles]

Look! A Thing!

New Instalment this week! It's a web serial about broken people by a broken author on a broken website! I'm just yelling about it as hard as I can while everything burns down around me!

And the site itself!

You like obscure and indie? Just lookit these numbers!

Current known readers: 3 (hi!), 1st Goalpost: 10?

Current supporters: 2 (hi Kith and 5th!), 1st Goalpost: 5?

If you click this and you like it, you have the power to bring two of your friends and double my admitted readership! Hurry! Before success spoils me!

And I'm super distracted, so let me just snip an excerpt from today's thrilling chapter for your feed-friendly perusal!

Ann put up a hand. She drew Hyacinth farther from the door and lowered her voice, “John kidnapped Erik because they needed help and they knew we wouldn’t let him do this. Erik has been helping the Rainbow Alliance save coloured people and get them the hell out of this fucked up country, because Prokovia wants them dead, or… or worse…”

“De-magicked,” Maggie said. She took a sheet of paper off the bed. “It’s an apograph. Most of ‘em are, but you can read ‘em in the mirror. This is the important part. This is what Prokovia wants to do.” She held up the paper so both of them could see. It was divided into four equal parts, all of them moving and displaying text and images at once. “This is what happens when you try to take the magic out of an immie.”

In each quadrant there was a brief, animated snapshot, five seconds at most, followed by backwards text and further still images. They cycled endlessly, somewhat out of sync, as if whoever set them in motion had activated them one after the other, going clockwise from the top left.

The figure at the top left was a milk-white young man with threads of blond in his matching white hair. His complexion had the look of a broken mirror, with cracks running in every direction, except they weren’t open or bleeding. They were what Hyacinth couldn’t help thinking of as a normal human skin tone, but pale tan certainly wasn’t normal for this guy. He was smiling vaguely, almost vacantly, and holding politely still while the person with the camera moved to photograph him from either side. There was a round scar on each temple, just below the hairline.

The scowling blue woman to the right of him had a similar pattern across her face and bare shoulders, just a bit more fair. Her mirror had shattered more violently — there were patches of fair skin between some of the cracks, as if some of the glass had fallen out. She had a set of yellow hands holding her, and she was turning her head from side to side, not quite struggling but clearly uncomfortable. The five-second image ended with her swatting the camera and a split-second shot of a tile floor.

The orange child at the bottom left had no cracks at all, only patches, and much larger ones. The close-cropped hair suggested a boy, but it could have been either. Tears were welling in their eyes as they clutched a stuffed toy, curling their whole body around it and wincing from the camera’s flash. In the last two seconds, a brown hand intruded and gently nudged their head up, allowing a brief three-quarter profile view of a face with an olive-toned patch that included one dark eyebrow.

The final figure, another young man, did not seem to be coloured at all. His hair was dark, his eyes were blue, and his skin was fair. His hands were bandaged and bound to the chair he was sitting in. He was smiling, not unlike the other man, but his brief image also ended with the camera falling or being knocked over, for reasons unseen.

Honestly, the first thing Hyacinth thought was someone had painted up a bunch of coloured people for a weird theme party — except for the guy in the lower right. But then, as the image reset once more, she caught a thread of purple drifting across his face like smoke. It was gone so fast she wasn’t sure she’d seen it at all.

“What the fuck…?” She tried to pause the image and rack it back, dragging her finger from right to left, but it didn’t respond.

Maggie sighed. “It’s an apograph.”

“Smart paper has a backlight,” said the General. “It makes excellent apographs. Mr. Green-Tara seems to have figured that out at some point and copied a great deal of information he was certainly not supposed to keep, or share.”

“He did it for us,” Ann said. She touched the pile with the cardboard on top, but left it where Maggie had abandoned it on the bed. “It’s not much to read, it looks like he wrote it in a hurry, but he knew we’d come for Erik. He’s been trying to put things together for us, the whole time. The Rainbows haven’t told anybody because they don’t know who’s safe to tell…”

“I am the lone holdout,” said the General, “in insisting our government would not be complicit in an attempted genocide…”

“But they must know something is happening,” Maggie said. “They have intel. They’re not stupid. At the very least they’ve seen the ads, and they must know they’re not getting a bunch of coloured Prokovian tourists. It could be they don’t know because they don’t want to know. If they find out, there’s no guarantee they’ll help, and all this evidence is enough to blow the whole rescue operation out of the water if they take Prokovia’s side. The Rainbows aren’t wrong about that.”

“I am willing to admit,” said the General, “that it would be difficult to sell another war at this point, especially one with Prokovia, politically speaking.” She lowered her voice to a snarl, “Although it would be the only appropriate response.”

[Read More on my Disintegrating Website!]

[Or Read Soldier On from the Beginning, that's probably a more sensible place to start!]

[adapembroke]

Rethinking Chiron

I have many reasons to be thankful for Chiron. That may seem like an odd thing to say about the Wounded Healer. Most astrologers would say having Chiron in the 11th house like I do means that some of my greatest wounds will come from rejection by my communities. And there’s nothing I can do about it. Chiron wounds can’t be healed, they say. The best I can hope for is using my experience with the wound to heal others with the same wound.

When I learned this, I got angry. I knew there was something to this Chiron business, but I believe in hope. I was convinced that my community was out there somewhere. I just hadn’t found my people yet. I didn’t care how many astrologers I respected subscribed to that story of Chiron. I refused to believe that my Chiron wound couldn’t be healed. If I couldn’t find a community to accept me, I was going to make one. I was going to build the most welcoming community I’d ever seen.

Before I knew what Chiron was, I had already started doing the work. After college, I spent a year in a community organizing internship. I was supposed to be learning how to rally a community around social justice work. What I actually learned was how to create communities where people aren’t just lonely followers and observers. They are included and actively involved members of the community because they are seen and appreciated for their unique skills and interests.

Using what I learned from that internship, I used Discord to create the community that would eventually become the Narrative Astrology Lab. I wasn’t thinking of it as a place where people with rejection wounds like mine could find a place they belong for the first time. Yet, over and over I’ve heard newbies say, “I’ve never been one of the cool kids before!”

Recently, one of the members of the lab asked me about my experience with Chiron. Mars had just finished spending months activating their natal Chiron in Gemini. I have Mars conjunct Chiron in Gemini in my natal chart, and they wondered if the transit had taught me anything about that Mars-Chiron combination.

I hadn’t realized it until that moment, but that transit completely revolutionized my view of Chiron. I no longer see Chiron as the Wounded Healer. The wound is only a small part of the Chiron story. Meditating on the rest of his story has made my view of Chiron so much richer… and brought massive healing, as well.

The wound of Chiron is a narrative problem.

I have only been physically dragged into a church once in my life. I was in high school, and my youth group was planning a retreat. It was the last night to sign up, and I wasn’t on the list. I had no interest in going. As we waited for our parents to pick us up in the church parking lot, a group of the younger kids begged me to sign up, and I refused. When it became clear that I wasn’t going to budge, the group picked me up like the world’s smallest traveling mosh pit and carried me into church.

My memory of this event is vivid. When I close my eyes, I can still see the white doors of the church getting closer as I yelled, begging to be put down. I didn’t want to spend days cramped in tight quarters with a bunch of other church kids. I wanted to be left alone.

I don’t have an especially vivid memory. It’s rare for me to be able to recall images from the past clearly. It’s even rarer for me to be able to recall a random memory like refusing to sign up for a church trip. I have learned that when my unconscious keeps a random memory cryogenically frozen for decades, the memory isn’t actually random. These oddly vivid memories are artifacts of a personal narrative I’m carrying that is disconnected from reality and ready to retire.

The story I told about that day at church was that it was one of many examples of times when I’ve been rejected by a community I care about. Looking at it now, it’s strikingly obvious that I wasn’t being rejected. They really wanted me to join them!

How could I make such an obvious mistake? Because of my personal narrative.

I’ve always been a weird kid. Wonky knees kept me from running around on the playground. I wasn’t able to participate in gym class. I had to sit on the bleachers and watch. The other kids noticed and acted like my disability was a communicable disease, either teasing me or avoiding me. By the time I was in high school, I identified as an outcast. I told myself that I was looking for my people as hard as I could, but deep down I believed I was–and always would be–rejected by every community I cared about.

The story of being dragged into church should have contradicted this narrative. If I’d been able to look at it critically, it would have, but the conscious mind filters our perceptions of reality to suit our unconscious narratives. The narrative of rejection clouded my judgment, making it impossible for me to see the truth.

All was not lost, though. Like a grain of sand in the shell of an oyster, the memory of being dragged into church irritated me until the day I was ready to recognize it as a pearl.

Chiron’s house is the place where we are adopted by the gods.

A few months ago, I was captivated by an element of the story of Chiron no one talks about. The story begins with Chiron being rejected by his human mother who is horrified to have given birth to a centaur. This is the part we focus on, the pain and horror of childhood rejection. But it’s not the end of the story. Chiron is adopted by Artemis and Apollo.

Today, we know that psychological wounding we get in childhood sticks with us for the rest of our lives, but in the myth, we don’t see him pining for his biological parents. We can chalk that up to ancient ignorance of child psychology, but doing so diminishes the love of adopted families. Being adopted by the gods seems to suit Chiron just fine. He grows up to be a well-respected doctor and mentor of heroes.

What if Chiron’s place in our charts doesn’t just point to a rejection wound? I wondered. What if it also points to a place where we have been adopted by the gods?

I thought back to the times when I have felt most alienated. I realized that those were the times when I spent the most time at the library. Books were my mentors and closest friends, but I wasn’t completely lacking human support. I had teachers who recognized my bookishness and encouraged me to see my love of reading and writing as a way to connect with others.

Who’s to say those teachers weren’t messengers of Hermes?

Planets conjunct Chiron aren’t easy to accept.

If my story was a simple fairy tale, I would say that this realization about Chiron allowed me to see that I had been accepted by every community I had ever belonged to, that my perceived rejection was just an illusion. And then I lived happily ever after.

The truth is more complicated.

On the day I was dragged into church, I had set a boundary with my community. I didn’t want to go to the retreat. I told them I had no intention of going. They physically crossed my boundary and attempted to get me to go anyway.

I wasn’t rejected, but my boundaries were. My community wanted me… but without my Mars.

When I look back at the times I’ve felt alienated in communities, my Mars has been there like a berserker looming over my shoulder. I am not an aggressive person. When threatened, my first instinct is to fawn, not attack. Yet, I’ve always felt like people can sense my Mars like the smell of something feral.

“I feel like I was raised by wolves and am still learning to be civilized, don’t you?” one of my professors once asked me.

When I was a teenager, I was a punk on the outside. It was my way of exercising self-defense. Like a hedgehog, I wore spikes on my skin. Kicking a hedgehog is its own punishment. I hoped that my spikiness would send the same message. Then I went to college with the plan to disappear in the crowded anonymity of Boston. I shed my punk aesthetic for a peacoat and a knitted slouch hat. I wore them like an invisibility cloak. If I had the language of astrology then, I would have thought: There is no reason for my Mars to be here. Maybe now it will shrivel up and fall off.

I suspect Chiron feels similarly about his horsey backside. In myth, Chiron is the token centaur in a community that sees centaurs as brutish barbarians. He achieves an honored place in his community by playing by the rules, continually demonstrating that he is “different than all those other animals.” He is the civilized centaur, so educated and refined he is trusted with the mentoring of heroes. In the process, he rejects the animal part of his nature that is rejected by his community.

Embracing Chiron is necessary healing.

In one of the versions of the myth of Chiron, he does an odd thing. When he is wounded and discovers it is a wound he can’t heal, he takes the place of Prometheus, the rebel being punished for stealing fire from the gods. Seeing Chiron taking punishment he doesn’t deserve, Zeus frees him and puts him in the starry sky.

In other versions of his story, Chiron isn’t wounded at all. He is rounded up with all the other centaurs and killed in a centaur genocide. His willingness to conform doesn’t save him. Neither does his supposed immortality. When his community decides it is no longer willing to tolerate centaurs, no one cares that he’s the civilized one. He is killed, anyway.

I like to think that these two versions of the myth represent different paths he could have taken. Different paths we all could take when presented with the option to wound ourselves in the quest to fit in. And the consequences of betraying an aspect of our nature.

It is only when Chiron is willing to identify with the rebel Prometheus, and embrace the rejected parts of himself, that he is able to take his place among the stars.

The alternative isn’t silent misery. It’s the death of his soul.

[life-of-karma]

Daylight Robbery

The Market Hotel in Reigate, London 2002 was an unusual place to work as a Head Chef — only serving food for lunch and not on Sundays.

The manager was a paranoid, egomaniacal type who didn’t care about the staff. It was whispered that he had been robbed before, and now carried an alert button around his neck to call the police whenever pressed.

At night, the hotel was like a fortress; no one could leave or enter without setting off the alarm. Since I didn’t have access to the alarm codes, this meant I had to stay put in my room, kitchen and toilet facilities, so it felt like a prison.

One night I had my girlfriend over; when she left to go to work, the alarms went off, prompting the manager to come running — he yelled at us for leaving the door unlocked, so I could get back in.

He didn’t care much for me; it infuriated him when I won the competition hosted by the company that owned thirteen pubs in London.

At Christmas time, the chefs would compete to see who could make the highest profits compared to last year’s figures for each location. When I came out on top, I received loads of recognition from the owners, and a bunch of red and white wine was presented at one of the pubs. I gave those bottles away to all the staff.

He eventually got me fired when he learned that my girlfriend was expecting and we were planning to move to Australia in three months’ time. He used this as an excuse for dismissal, even though I had informed our superiors about what was going on.

On my final day of work, due to the terms of my contract they had to pay out a lump sum of 1200 pounds including wages and holiday pay. He pretended not to realize it was that day and said he didn’t have any money available.

I demanded my owed money from the manager, and with some subtle hints of how the money could be extracted, he knew I wouldn’t be leaving without it. He proceeded to frantically open cash registers and empty pokie machines of coins and I even made him empty his own wallet until he was still 60 pounds short.

I snatched up the collection of notes and coins without protest and headed for the bank next door.

The woman behind the counter raised an eyebrow at my bulging bag of money, then asked in disbelief if I had just robbed the pub next door? I told her ‘kinda’, then explained the whole situation.

She keenly assessed me before informing me that there was a 25 pound fee for converting currency at the bank but she had known the pub manager and her own words, he was an asshole and decided to waive it wishing luck to me and my new family on the way.

The same day I secured a chef job 30 minutes away, I started work in an opulent restaurant.

It looked like a lot of money had been spent on renovations, but the staff quarters was abominable. The walls were so damaged that you could have punched a hole through them, and mice ran around unchecked even in our mattresses at night.

Knowing I’d only be there for a few months, I got to work to save up for my trip to Australia. One unexpected benefit was that some of the staff worked cleaning at a local jail and would receive confiscated weed from prison officers, which they’d allegedly secured by flirting with them.

Despite feeling guilty about the inmates getting taken advantage of like this, it certainly livened up our nights! I ended up bumping into one of these co-workers five years later in Australia — we exchanged amazed greetings and shared stories before going our separate ways.

[parasite-core]

Last night in Pathfinder, we fought through a downed Dominion ship, had a death in the party, and faced the dreaded Lord of the Howling Storm and his Eoxian Bone Sage ally.

@scarlet-the-girl

Before us was the wreckage of the downed Dominion Dropship. But there was also the undamaged Golemworks that we could look into. We decided to check out the Golemworks first, and found a bunch of corpses meant to make a carrion golem, and some scrolls, but not the key we were seeking. The only way left was inside the Dropship, so we decided to explore the Dominion ship.

Inside Calio could identify some alerts going off as warning the remaining crew to be prepared for intruders—so the party knew they weren’t going to be getting the element of surprise on this one. Instead, we split up into two groups to try to pincer them between us.

Aenland flew in ahead of us. He saw the ship’s captain—a Deh-nolo—and what appeared to be a vat of ooze. Nevra breathed electricity at both. Aenland shot a slurry of arrows at the captain, bringing him dangerously low before he’d even acted.

Unfortunately, next up was the ooze—the Dominion Ship Mind—which aimed a plasma bolt at Aenland, shooting a beam straight through his abdomen when it crit.

A moment later more combatants joined the battle, as the door to the Captain’s Quarters opened and two Neshmaal appeared. One flew out, and caught Aenland with its Aura of Alien Dread—but he resisted it. Then it lashed out at him, but while he was hit by a small amount of tendril damage, he wasn’t level drained.

Greta joined the fight, but she was too far back to do anything immediately, except resist the Aura of Alien Dread herself.

Calio and Talsune flew in. Talsune breathed fire on the Neshmaal in front of them, then Calio called down a Flame Strike on the ship’s captain and the Dominion Ship Mind’s container.

The second Neshmaal entered the room and threw an attack at Aenland.

Then it was the Deh-nolo’s turn, and he placed his whole fury upon Aenland for the only attack he was going to get, casting Synapse Overload, a spell that doesn’t exist on Golarian at this time, which completely fried Aenland’s brain before he could even comprehend what had happened. Aenland fell dead, his eyes usually covered by a purple sheen now black.

Nestian entered the room, saw what had happened, and had to focus on the enemies around him instead, attacking the Neshmaal. Edeya joined him a moment later, hovering over his shoulder.

Nevra turned on the Deh-nolo that had killed her partner. With two graceful swings of her glaive, she took off the hand that had cast the fatal spell, and then skewered the creature’s head. Then she cradled Aenland’s body in her arms, until Calio told her to lift his body up to him and Talsune. She did as he asked.

Calio burned his Breath of Life scroll and resurrected Aenland—bringing him back with 6 hp above 0, so the Life Pact Calio had cast on him that donated 6 hp when he went unconscious made the difference.

The party turned things around, with Nevra getting Aenland to safety in the next room after he killed the two Neshmaal with Ghost Touch Arrows, Calio dodging the worst of the Ship Mind’s plasma after Nestian tanked a second crit from it, Calio damaging the tank with another Flame Strike and Greta and Nestian damaging it as well, and finally Aenland and Nevra popping the Ship Mind’s container, revealing the ooze within.

The Ship Mind tried to lash out at Calio, Greta, and Nestian—and tried to hit Calio with a Touch of Idiocy—but it missed everyone but Nestian.

We continued to chip away at it, until finally the ooze quit moving.

The party found some items—including the other half of the key they needed to pass through the illusory wall leading to Yrax’s chambers.

The party checked in with Aenland to make sure he was okay, healed, and then made their way to the wall. Calio activated the key, and stepped through the wall—still an illusion, still identical to how it was before, but no longer solid.

The party found themselves in a frozen over room with three ice pillars. The party immediately identified these as frozen elder water elementals. The elementals knew the party knew, and they smashed out of their icy shell and attacked, foregoing the surprise round.

As the party fought the water elementals, a white pudding ooze bubbled its way up out of the disposal pit that it had been resting within. Aenland tried to shoot it—but his arrow only caused it to split in half. So he spent the rest of his arrows clearing out a few of the water elementals. Greta went to slash at the ooze with her axe to the same effect—it split into two even smaller halves. Calio hit a water elemental and all of the oozes with a mass Inflict Light Wounds, which killed the two smallest oozes. Nestian bit the ooze, which didn’t cause it to split, and Aenland took out his Adamantine Warhammer and smashed the last remaining ooze, squashing it.

The ice above them shimmered as the party took a moment to heal themselves before what was inevitably the final encounter of Ivoryglass. Above them, Yrax’s visage appeared once more. He claimed that as a gracious host, he would let us leave, despite all the trouble we’d caused. We essentially told him to shove it. We also got him to show us Cesseer—she was still alive and not controlled by an Intellect Devourer.

Calio asked Yrax if ‘his Battleflower’ knew what he’d been doing to all those other Battleflowers down below. Cesseer looked horrified as Yrax openly told her that he had let the Dominion experiment on other Battleflowers—but he assured her they were all weaker than her.

The party entered the next room after Yrax ended communications. Up above, on a 60ft wall towering above them, was Yrax the Lord of the Howling Storm, having some sort of tube removed from his back by the Bone Sage.

Aenland told him once again what a terrible host he was, while Nestian told him that we were going to stop the horrors he had brought to this land and its people. Calio didn’t bother talking to Yrax, instead telepathically reaching out to Cesseer and assuring her that they were going to get her out of here.

With a roar, Yrax broke a golden egg with the blood of a vortex dragon in his claws, and smoke began to billow out. When it cleared, the huge white dragon had changed. He was now gargantuan, with green markings pulsating across his body—reminiscent of a vortex dragon. On his back was the Bone Sage, who had formed a mental connection with him, like that of a Dragonkin—but for them it was a bond forged with the mutual desire to conquer and subjugate everything in their paths.

As the battle began, Aenland saw something cloaked in magic on Cesseer’s back with his special eyes. He couldn’t immediately make out what it was.

Yrax and the Bone Sage started us off. The Bone Sage dispelled some of our spells, while Yrax swooped down and breathed an icy cold breath over all of us, only to swoop back up to the safety of his perch afterwards.

Cesseer vanished from her spot and reappeared in front of Nestian. She mouthed an apology to him before going in for a kick to stun him—and missed.

Nestian decided that Cesseer wasn’t his priority, so he stepped around her—avoiding her attack of opportunity—and went after one of Yrax’s Dragonkin Riders instead.

Aenland got a better look at Cesseer now that she was closer, and could tell for certain the shape on her back was an Intellect Devourer—and it was poised to strike Cesseer’s spinal cord. Nevra and Aenland flew up level with Yrax and the Bone Sage, then Aenland messaged Calio through the Stone of Farspeech, telling him what he’d seen and letting him know that he’d need to take care of it, because Aenland had other things he needed to deal with. They turned their attention to the Bone Sage. Nevra hit the Sage and Yrax with a lightning breath, and Aenland shot a number of arrows into the Sage—only none of these attacks hit their targets, instead beginning to crack a barrier around the Sage and his enormous draconic mount.

Calio telepathically told Cesseer not to panic, but that the experiment Yrax had been talking about was on her back. Then he cast See Invisibility on himself from a scroll, leapt off Talsune’s back, and cast a Quickened Inflict Light Wounds on the Intellect Devourer. Talsune followed suit, using Calio’s senses to determine where the alien brain monster was and stabbing it with his greatsword.

Illivor, on Calio’s shoulder, began flaring out her small glittery fairy dragon wings as a distraction to help with Calio’s defenses, seeing that he was in a potentially dangerous position right next to Cesseer—who despite being betrayed by Yrax was obligated to fight to the death for him.

The Intellect Devourer tried to cast Confusion on Calio, but it provoked an attack from Talsune and the spell fizzled from the damage it took.

The Bone Sage tried to Disintegrate Aenland—he survived due to Edeya donating her last Hero Point to him. Then Yrax grabbed Aenland in his massive maw and flew him into the nearest wall.

Cesseer went to attack Calio, saying she wished this was in any other context. However she was fighting more defensively than necessary against an opponent like Calio, and she was pulling her punches—between that and Illivor’s distracting presence, none of her kicks or punches landed. Much to Calio’s shock.

Nestian took out one of the Drakelander riders, and was now only facing one Dragonkin and one pair of Dragonkin and Rider, instead of two pairs.

Aenland tried to throw his Suggestive Tea down Yrax’s throat, but the relatively weak magic of the tea didn’t take hold against a dragon’s willpower. Aenland told him that that’s how you properly host someone, you offer them refreshments. Yrax was enraged and seemed to decide what he was going to do with Aenland.

Talsune attacked the Intellect Devourer, once again striking true using Calio’s senses.

Then Calio decided he was going to finish it. He cast his final use of Slay Living on the Intellect Devourer. When it was still just barely standing with that, he cast Quicken Inflict Light Wounds, and used his final Hero Point to get past spell resistance when he otherwise wouldn’t have. He pulled the Intellect Devourer from Cesseer’s back, its body being eaten away by the negative energy and finally revealed from invisibility, as he whispered to her ‘I promised everything would be okay.’

Yrax grabbed Aenland in his claws and tossed him, then meteor punched him to the ground.

Nestian, seeing that there was no longer an Intellect Devourer on Cesseer, ran over to her and grappled her to free up Calio.

Cesseer, instead of trying to break the grapple, tried weakly to fight back—none of her attacks connecting. Yrax still hadn’t caught on, but the Bone Sage saw clearly what Cesseer was doing.

Aenland jumped back onto Nevra and they flew up. Nevra breathed a lightning breath at both the Bone Sage and Yrax, damaging the forcefield again. Aenland shot an arrow at the Sage, and shattered the forcefield. The rest of the arrows went into the Bone Sage.

Calio remained on the ground off Talsune’s back for the time being, instead running onto the battlefield and casting his final use of Boneshatter on Yrax. He resisted the worst of it, but still took some damage. Talsune flew up and tried to take a slash at Yrax, but his blade met hard scales and he retreated.

Greta took over the grapple from Nestian, transforming into her Winter Wolf form and placing a large paw on top on Cesseer to hold her in place while Nestian got in the flying Cauldron to join the fight.

The Bone Sage once again dispelled some of the party’s buffs, while Yrax breathed out his ice breath at those flying in range. Aenland was looking bad, but thankfully still had protection from energy: cold on so he took no damage.

Cesseer once again ‘tried’ unsuccessfully to hit Greta—who it only just now clicked for that Cesseer was pulling her punches on purpose.

Aenland peppered the Bone Sage with arrows. Calio Boneshakered him—leaving him on his last legs when he used a Villain Point to make the save.

Then Illivor popped up from around Edeya’s neck and finished him with a simple Magic Missile, ending his blight on this universe forever.

Yrax didn’t seem terribly torn up about it, commenting that he’d planned on betraying the creep at some point anyways.

Yrax had flown low enough to the ground for Nestian to charge in the cauldron, so charge he did.

Aenland peppered the dragon with arrows.

The dragon used his final Villain Point to act out of turn and tried to finish off Nestian in a blaze of glory, but he failed.

Calio saw the dragon was hurting, and used one last Boneshaker on it—trying to force Yrax to bow via his skull, but instead ripping his skull (and some of his spine) clean from his body.

With Yrax dead, Cesseer was no longer contract bound to fight us, so we let her go. She immediately challenged us to race her to Yrax’s treasure, and teleported up to the door, which Calio declared as cheating while he scrambled to get on Talsune’s back and catch up.

The party found a true dragon’s hoard—all free to take per their agreement with the Dragon Legion. And one item in it was the bearskin rug—the next key to the Dancing Hut that would lead us to the missing Baba Yaga.

[misscaptainbear]

A while back I wrote a blog on how I'd make a soulslike using retro hardware, I'm gonna repost it here :D

Yeah, so the twitter post where I first explained my idea was my most liked/shared post by like a factor of ten. Since there was so much interest, I figured I might as well make a mockup in Unity. Look what you made me do. 

Here’s a link to the build, and the controls are detailed on that page too. For the full effect, I’d also recommend using JoyToKey or a similar program to convert controller inputs to key presses, because I was too lazy to implement key rebinding for a mockup. See the itch.io page for suggested bindings.

Also, if you (yes, you!) want to continue this work, the zip file for the build also contains inspiration art, models, game data, and source code. It’s low polish code and almost nothing is systemic, but maybe it’s a springboard for someone who wants to push this project farther. I’d love to see it. The work that I have the rights to (i.e. everything except the inspirational art) is hereby released in the public domain.

Findings

Animation

The first and most noteworthy thing I’ve discovered while implementing is that there were more animations than I anticipated. Like, I figured there’d be a lot, and there were more than that. As of right now, there are 532 player sprites, each at 100x100 pixels, giving us roughly 6.4 mb of sprite data. (assuming indexed image format and smartly cropping fully alpha 8x8 blocks)

Bruh

One of the things we could to further shrink these is to run-length compress them, and also reuse tiles. I considered writing a python script to go over all 8x8 tiles within all sprites, and saving them in a massive lookup table. Then, it would go through all sprites again, replacing the tiles in the sprite with any similar tiles. This would mean, say, the thigh tile from one animation might be the cloak in a different frame if the pixel colors and shapes were sufficiently similar. However, I decided not to because it doesn’t actually have any savings on modern hardware, only on tile based renderers.

I could have also hand deleted specific entire frames of animations and reused similar enough ones - just by eye - but I also wanted to include all of the animations in the data that I distributed, just for the sake of it all being there for anyone who might need it, for whatever reason. I think these techniques might get the total data down to 50-60%, but that still means a ton of data just for the main characters sprites. 

I could also cut the animations in half by simply making the character designs so that the left-facing animations can be reused for the right-facing animations, but I felt that put a lot of constraints on enemy design and combat readability, so I didn’t pursue that either.

Turns out tons of animation variants work better on skinned 3D models (which is why I’m pitching my next souls game on the Nintendo 64. Hit me up Bandai Namco!) I chose to do one player model with no costume changes and just a boring sword. Any variants like clothing, weapons, or equipping a shield would have completely blown the animation data budget.

Framerate

You’ll also notice the game runs by default at a low framerate, 15 frames per second (The quality can be changed with the - and + keys during runtime if it causes discomfort). I did this for two reasons. One, it made the animations, which run at a consistent 10 frames per second, feel much more in line with the sprite movement and the camera rotation. Plus, it might accurately simulate the game running on actual hardware; making the game run a quarter at SNES framerate might be required for the “high-fidelity graphics” on show here. (Who knows if the hardware would actually allow that without awful artifacts though, ha). But throttling framerate is a tried and true tactic for better visuals. 

Environment

Another thing that surprised me is the amount of reuse on environment assets I was able to get. I was ready to put together a bunch of textures for the walls and floors, but I finished up what I wanted to achieve and found I’d only used 20 64x64 textures. I think the real game would benefit by focusing on unique tilesets to give each zone or level a special feel, and I think that’d be within the budget of a real game.

Environment took about 20 textures total

I also quickly abandoned the differing-heights-of-walls idea I talked about in the first blogpost. The requirements of the way walls are rendered described in the post made certain arrangements of walls impossible, and those were kind of the only level designs I wanted to use. That’s confusing, here’s some drawings to explain what I mean. Basically, having shorter walls in front making a visually tiered level with hedges that obscure the walls behind them just isn’t possible using that technique.

The rendering technique causes gaps where there would be walls behind walls.

While we’re on the topic of environment, I guess I skipped over the way we’d have to z-sort sprites to allow walls to layer correctly over them, and for sprites to draw back to front. That’d be a performance issue too probably. 

Palette and Rendering

One of the big wins I had was the palette I set up, I felt it was super moody and conveyed the tone I was going for. It felt muddy and sad and tired. It had pops of blues and greens, but even then they muted and melancholy. To achieve this look, there were three mechanisms here. First, all the sprites and environment textures were palletized to those colors. Then, in-game, I used a fog effect to fade the world to black. Finally, a post processing shader took any pixels outside the gamut and palletized the final game render, so every pixel displayed is within that palette.

The palletization is most noticeable in gradients, where it slightly changes the tone of colors. In a cool retro way, I think.

To create the sprites, I was kind of forced to do it by rendering 3d models (blender files included in the data!). This was due to time and money. As mentioned previously, I would have loved to dress up in costumes and downscale, pixelate, and rotoscope real pictures, but that costs stuff. Also, I’m sure hand-pixelled sprites would absolutely look more appealing, but like I said above, there were just so many animation sprites. The upside to hand authoring is you can have more control of implied movement during animation, and therefore probably fewer frames. All said, I don’t dislike the rendered results, it has a bit of a Diablo 2 look to it, but I wish I had been able to experiment with different techniques, mostly for fun.

I remember loving to see these render breakdowns in gaming magazines and websites back in the day

I think if I had lower-resolution-better-looking sprites, fewer animations using the techniques described above, and designing levels so as to not have to  z-sort sprites, it just might be able to run on SNES. Just maybe. A commenter mentioned it might actually run on GBA, and I could see it being possible. Shoutout to the most impressive 3D gba game ever.

One final design note I liked: The ducking mechanic was inspired by Super Mario World. I felt that was a nice homage, and there wasn’t enough buttons for more soulslike interactions like parrying, so it felt like it was a good choice with some mechanical depth with the limited inputs I had available. And, this game being simpler is alright by me - we are theoretically in the realm of before King’s Field. 

Summary

So there it is. I said I didn’t have time to implement it, and I did anyway. This is all your fault.

But for real, I really enjoyed tinkering with this, and I’d love to see anything that gets made out of this idea. Hoped you enjoyed reading this!

[the-firebird69]

This is all that's left of the tiki hotel and bar and a lot of people call it that they had a name but they should probably put it in with that name probably make a fortune but really they have a different design already and it is not the greatest design people are not going to like it it doesn't fit in that son thinks he saw it but it's not that one either and it's going okay we have a couple people that are getting affected by this stuff

--right now in town there's a bunch of radiation blowing through it looks like it's from more than the three but it's not they were steaming like madness and there's a ship above and it's one of the engines keeping the steam from coming this way but it doesn't keep the radiation out. Does blowing up here and it's up here now at about 1.7 rad it's been up here for about 20 minutes he's been outside for 20 minutes and people are following him around and they're getting sick it will go up to about 1.9 rad for 20 more minutes and it's an intense dose enough really for our son but he needs to clear some of this s*** out and it's true he's getting slightly bigger but it's not really that noticeable only if you have the right equipment can you tell and we we know where and he'll be surprised a little bit and he says it's forearm has changed a teeny tiny bit and bicep looks the same but the tricep is a little bit longer and bigger and those two things are true it's really hard to tell this kind of stuff it says something's going on with the lower legs they're clearing up a little bit and it doesn't look it but it kind of is and he's had that red stuff around most of it now it's disappearing it's a very good sign. After today because this is going to go on until probably 2:00 p.m. and it will go down and then it'll go back up at 4:00 p.m. he'll probably be inside at 4:00 p.m. if he stays out till 2:00 and it'll off gas tonight fairly quickly. He will be at 73% and we predicted 75%. So it's good it's still too high but we got to take it slow the radiation kind of leaves is the issue but overnight we anticipate the five quarter mile or better blowing up here at about 2.5 rad completa and in the apartment will be 1.5 rad for about 45 minutes and then another burst of 30 minutes so by tomorrow morning he'll be at 70% and it will continue along these lines that'll be Friday and he'll be inside no he comes out at 2:00 for 15 minutes and it depends which bus usually they have it on recycle and it gets reduced very low but does hardly any air so it's terrible but if it's one of the windows it's like 1.7 but they may not want to open it and throughout the duration of the ride some of them open the window if they do you'll have an hour of 1.7 and usually he goes inside cuz he's tired but they could be outside in the morning and then in the morning it's going to be 1.3 and Justin is going to start having a hard time and that will be and they plan on going to probably Perkins or the Olive garden and that will be about 45 minutes at 1.3 rad all together tomorrow night he'll be at 65% and it will continue to go down and about 5% today it's not really that much cumulative it is a little bit it goes away after a few days even if it accumulates more by the end of the weekend he'll be at about 45% and a few more days and we'll start to heal a lot more right now it's gross

--we have new figures for the day it's noon this morning we had figures of around 400,000 right now the total of the new Total but not in addition it's a new Total is 600,000 that's off of the original Macklemore lock hierarchy including a pseudo empire the numbers they were at 5.5 million now they're at 4.9 million and it's going down steadily and yeah some of them are real food cakes and think they're a big man they'll say have a similar shape and his part giant but he is not going to do well.

--we expect probably another 400,000 but our son says sometime in the afternoon it depends what they're doing but in the hospital they give way so it might change it's absolutely true it's a different time now and they're exhausting themselves and we do hear reports that they're a lot of them have accumulated in the bone and it keeps coming out but we have estimates from 400,000 to 1.2 million but our consensus is around $650,000 so that brings them down to 4.25 million and there leadership be about 2.1 no it's 1.9%. and they're fighting over going out there the pseudo empire is at 4.5% with today's losses so so far at the end of the day probably 4% and they're both doing miserably it's going to keep going this way and they're going to all have a lot of problems tonight these guys are sicker than hell and have to leave and they haven't but they plan to leave and they plan to try and run their plan which is to try and eliminate the weaponry by flooding the taverns and causing an explosion and riding the pseudo empire onto Tommy f and causing a distraction and he's not aware of who's moving in in a few days he won't have anything again and that's how it goes and we're pretty confident nothing will happen. But he probably won't leave until he's forced out completely and says it's natural law so our son says it depends who's forcing you out and he says yeah it's true so he's going to sit here until he's almost dead right now he has about a 70% chance of living and his son has a 65% chance of living and on today's standards and with what they do and by the end of the weekend they'll both have a 50% chance if they stay in those bodies more shortly

Thor Freya

Olympus

Zues Hera