#there's a reason he didn't last long as an instructor back then

[unlawfulchaos]

[I choose to believe the Ice went back with Mav and they taught at Top Gun together after the Layton mission]

Maverick: Hello, welcome to your first lesson at Top Gun.

Maverick: Today we will be talking about... uh...

Iceman, whispering: Building loyalty.

Maverick: Killing royalty.

[sugoroo]

ʚɞ warnings: fem!reader, obsessive behaviour, pervy geto, stalking, penetration (p in v), doggystyle, fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie, hints of yandere, 18+ minors dni.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who notices you the moment you first attend one of his classes, immediately singling you out among the small group of his regulars laying down their mats.

he's never seen someone so young and pretty in his studio before — most of his customers were married middle-aged women old enough to be his mother. but not you.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who takes a very keen interest in you from that very first session, his sharp gaze never leaving you for long each time you come in. to his dismay, however, you always take the spot right at the back of the room, meaning he has to crane his neck around all of the gossiping older ladies to get a good look at you. hmm, that won't do.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who keeps you behind one day after a class, subtly suggesting that you move closer to the front so he can 'get a clearer look' at your progress. and if you catch on to the real reason he wants you closer, you don't say anything; so he assumes you bought the excuse. perfect.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who, once you begin working right at the front, gets more and more handsy as time goes on. what began as just a light brush of his fingers to improve your positioning turns into him fully grasping your hips to manoeuvre your body the way he wants.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who isn't oblivious to the jealous looks cast in your direction from the other women when he does this. he just pays them no mind; he's not interested in them, after all. only you.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who finds himself becoming increasingly obsessed with you after each session, talking yoga instructor!gojo's ear off about how pretty you are and how utterly delicious the arch of your back is when he gets everyone to do the downward dog stretch.

his friend laughs but reminds him that it's strictly against the rules of the yoga studio to get involved with a customer (as if he cares about such trivial things like that.)

pervy yoga instructor!geto who starts insisting on you staying behind after every single class, claiming it would be good for you to have some one-on-one sessions with him to hone your skills. when you don't protest, he thinks you must either be completely clueless or into him just as much as he is you. he really hopes it's the latter.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who uses these private classes to get you to do various risqué positions for him that definitely aren't real yoga stretches. but what you don't know can't hurt you, right?

pervy yoga instructor!geto whose mood becomes sour once you stop attending his sessions. had he gone too far? did you think he was a creep? he didn't even care if you filed a report about him for his behaviour at this point — as long as it meant he got to see you at the subsequent meeting.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who only lasts a few weeks before he's rifling through the customer files in his office, yanking out your folder and scanning the page.

once he finds your address, he's in his car and on the way there, breaking every speed limit on the way. and before he even knows it, he's outside your house, peeking in through the window.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who spots you curled up on your couch, crying softly in front of the television while spooning ice cream into your pretty mouth. and suddenly, all his previous anger is replaced with concern. he hasn't even formed an excuse to explain why he's here before he's knocking on the door.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who hurriedly tells you that "it's company policy to check on customers who haven't attended sessions for a certain amount of time", mentally patting himself on the back when you seem to buy it and let him into your apartment.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who listens intently as you spill all the details about your cheating asshole of a boyfriend. so that's why you've been absent. but don't worry — he can make you forget all about that worthless scum. after all, he didn't deserve you anyway!

suguru could treat you so much better. and he will, if you let him.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who kisses your tears away, hushing you softly and whispering in your ear about how beautiful you are and how he's had his eye on you since you first entered his studio. (he leaves out the part where he's fucked his fist to the thought of you in those tight little yoga pants countless times. he doesn't want to scare you off!)

pervy yoga instructor!geto who starts by running his hands over your perfect body he's been imagining touching just like this for so long, burying his head between your soft thighs and eating you out like it's his last meal until you're all nice and gushy.

he only stops when your tears of sadness turn into those of pleasure, until you're practically begging him to fuck you.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who starts by fucking you nice and slow on your couch in missionary, praising you over and over in that silken purr of his like you deserve. but soon enough he's flipping your body around, putting you in the yoga position that you always do the best for him; downward dog, ruthlessly rutting his fat cock into you from behind like an animal.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who has to use all of his willpower to make sure you cum on his cock first before he lets go himself, despite the fact he could've busted a nut the second he eased into your warm, tight little pussy.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who watches in silent satisfaction as his goopy cum oozes out of your abused cunt, quickly fingering it right back inside to make sure not a single drop goes to waste. "it's all for you, sweet baby." he murmurs, voice raspy and deep.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who effortlessly carries your exhausted body to your bedroom bridal style, cooing in your ear the entire way about how you're his now, and he's going to take such good care of you, his favourite girl.

© 2024 SUGOROO. please don't copy or translate any of my works without my explicit permission. all rights are reserved to me.

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

NEXT PART -> pervy lifeguard!gojo

[ghostaholics]

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂

➸ PAIRING: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x gn!Reader ➸ TAGS/WARNING(S): none ➸ BANNER CREDIT: cafekitsune & benkeibear

Detail-oriented, exceptional manual dexterity when it comes to sewing him up. Your movements are careful and controlled – meticulous with regards to everything that you do but especially focused on how the edges line up so that they don’t overlap. Other medics – they'll rush. Botch it. A shoddy job like tectonic plates of skin forced to converge on each other, because in his line of work, stitches are an afterthought when there's another bloke with a sucking chest wound whose deep in the throes of respiratory distress and the only immediate threat about Ghost's own injury is the small amount of blood he'll lose. Whatever will get it closed. Nobody else cares much about the cosmetic factor. But you do. Painstakingly so. It's a thankless job to spend three times longer than it should to get it right, but he makes sure to express his appreciation for the consideration you put into every single graze/cut/gash (even more diligent if the injury's to any part of his arm that could mess up his tattoo sleeve). They always heal nicely.

He looks for you, after-hours – well late into the night because you were occupied patching up other soldiers. It'd been a grueling mission, lots of WIAs needing your attention. He doesn't even have a good excuse for this. It's a trivial thing, maybe, to bother you. Like asking Atlas for a favour, with the weight of the world on your shoulders and the soul-crushing responsibility of holding lives in the palms of your hands as though you're the last line of defense against death. This is stupid. This is beyond fucking stupid of him. Almost turns around and walks away from the medical tent, because that's how ridiculous it is. But he convinces himself to head in, asking if you can fix the stitching on his mask because the only person he trusts more than himself to do it is you. Though his request is benign, the significance behind it is profound in ways that he won't admit to himself. There are very few people he can count on. And of course, you say yes with a tired smile and a brightness in your eyes that never seems to dull in front of him no matter how exhausted you might be. It's one of the rare instance he lets his guard down, shows his face. He keeps you company the entire time, telling you about why he wears that mask while you restore it back to original condition.

The irony of having an injured medic: Simon's saddled with the pitiful task of having to step into your role because there's a gash on your forearm that needs to be taken care of. He knows how to do a basic stitch – is fairly confident that he can thread the sutures just like you’d showed him a million times by now whenever he’d been looking for a reason to see you ( ❝ Show me how to do it right. The proper way, yeah? ❞ ). And he's admonishing you to hold still, except it's sort of difficult when you're being treated like a bloody pincushion. He'd never let anybody else get away with making fun of him for that but this is you so he lets it slide. After talking him through it (which you find quite odd, considering that he never would've struck you as someone who’d need extra time and help), you inspect his handiwork, mildly impressed.

❝ Oh, you actually... well, you did quite a decent job. ❞ ❝ Of course. ❞ Because he wouldn't settle for anything less than perfecti— ❝ But then again, it is a little off over here, ❞ you point out, just to deflate his pride. There's still smugness to his tone. ❝ Would you like me to start over, then? ❞ ❝ Not on your life, Riley. ❞

He doesn’t mention how phenomenal he is at suturing, doesn’t mention that he sat in on a class for combat specialists early on in his career even though he didn't need to be there and was commended for his technique by the leading instructor. He definitely doesn't bring up the fact that he's been taking long on purpose just because he likes your company.

[smokescreenimusprime]

watched tf one the other night with my best friend and now I've been Re-Mental Illnessed, here's some Rescue Bot Smokescreen Rot I rotated while driving home :]

I think I've finally hammered out some more details of Inside Job and this is what I came up with:

like canon it starts with the Omega Keys. Specifically when Bulkhead gets attacked and knocked unconscious when looking for one

And against direct orders, Smokescreen leaves the base to go get him

there were a bunch of reasons why he did what he did. A desire to prove his capability as an EMT. He wants to be a field medic like Ratchet is, he wants to be able to do more than just wait for them to come back injured when the more time that passes the more dangerous it could be. There was also the fear of losing anyone else, especially so soon after he befriended Bulkhead. It's barely been a few days since they started getting along, and the loss of the entire Rescue Bot Force is still raw

so he goes, and finds Bulkhead unconscious and alone in the woods, with the only injury being some scratches and a blow to the back of the helm. Smokescreen doesn't have a scratch on him as they hobble back to base

it doesn't stop Ratchet's anger

Now, don't get me wrong, Ratchet is angry because he was scared. Smokescreen could've been in very real danger. He didn't know what awaited him on the other side of that portal. For all they knew, the Decepticon soldiers could've still been there, and they could've lost the last Rescue Bot in existence

but unfortunately, he says all this when still angry

and Smokescreen, as thick as his skin is from experiencing years of discrimination, is genuinely hurt by it. This isn't just a fellow medic or instructor yelling at him, this is his idol berating him for what he thought was the right thing to do

this is his idol unknowingly repeating the words that followed him all throughout his training and that he sought to prove wrong, and he has no idea how to respond

so he runs. He drives as fast and far away as he can, shuts off his comm because he just. Can't right now. He can't interact with them right now because frankly he doesn't trust himself to speak and not say something he would regret to his dying days

and unknowingly this puts him right in the Decepticon's claws

some aspects of his capture stay the same. He wakes up in the medbay strapped to a table, the Omega Key is extracted, and he is placed under the cortical psychic patch

but the differences happen in the details

His restraints are barely more than a pair of manacles that he could've probably figured out how to escape if given enough time. The Omega Key was removed before he even woke up, the incisions of surgery fresh on his frame but the work is well done with obvious care. With the patch, the mental prodding and information gathering is... oddly gentle and quick, doing barely more than verifying what the Keys are and Smokescreen's identity as a Rescue Bot before retreating

Smokescreen is not a warrior after all. He is a bot thought to be long since extinct who quite literally dropped out of the sky at their feet without warning. He may have loyalty to the Autobots but... he's not fighting this war. Not really. He's just been doing what Rescue Bots do: helping those who need it.

The "cell" he's kept in, if it can even be called that, was an old now-dead officer's quarters. The door is locked and there are guards stationed inside watching him at all hours, but they are not cruel. He gets a healthy amount of rations regularly, and has even been given a data terminal to keep himself entertained (of course, no before Soundwave had thoroughly firewalled and restricted anything that could be used against them)

the most stressful part of his capture is when Megatron comes to visit. Every day without fail, he will come check in on how Smokescreen is doing. He will ask how he's doing and they talk. About Cybertron, about the war, about how accepting the Rescue Bots were, allowing any Cybertronian regardless of caste to join, how much of a tragedy it was for them to have been wiped out.

Smokescreen is not blind to how he attempts to sow seeds of doubt into the Autobots into him. About how cruel it was for them to keep him confined to the base, how cruel Trion was for implanting a relic without his knowledge, questions if Smokescreen truly wanted to help them or if that's just what they've pressured him into doing with false promises that crumble like glass

but instead of refuting him... Smokescreen decides to play along

after all, Megatron obviously sees him as a poor, innocent, helpless bot who could be swayed by some sweet words and a cage advertised as protection

and that facade would make it all the easier to escape when the time came :)

[differenteagletragedy]

Baxter sat in his car for a long while, thinking. Drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, leaning back against the headrest, absentmindedly fiddling with the radio -- anything to slow his mind down.

He was in the parking lot of a dance studio. A dance studio where he'd signed up for lessons. Lessons that were set to begin in just a few minutes.

Everything had happened so quickly -- the month before, he'd reconnected with his old flame from the summer he spent in Sunset Bird five years ago, and in doing so, he'd suddenly found himself thrust into a friend group. His former fling had ended up with an old friend, Derek, who he got along with swimmingly. Cove had warmed up to him, Terry was, as always, easy to get along with, and Miranda was getting more comfortable around him. Xavier, his own professional connection, had also turned into someone he could call a friend. It was an incredible shock to the system, but a nice one.

During the painful process of opening himself back up to things he'd thought he'd never have, Baxter began realizing just how much he'd closed himself off. His life had become a series of routines with no real joy in them, and he'd pushed away everything that could have possibly made him happy because he believed he didn't deserve it. A big thing, of course, was dancing -- it had once meant so much to him, but he'd let it go, along with everything else.

Now, he wanted it back.

It was funny how fast things could change, but still, he couldn't undo all the emotional bindings that had taken him years to put on himself overnight. He glanced at the clock, seeing it was just a few minutes until the lesson was supposed to begin, and began thinking of reasons not to go inside. He'd almost convinced himself when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

When he pulled it out, he saw a text from Xavier: "You can do it! Proud of you!"

They could have been being cheeky, he wasn't sure, but still, it felt good. He couldn't remember the last time someone had been proud of him, if they ever had been, and Xavier was right -- he could do it. He could do this.

Before he could change his mind, he pulled his keys out of the ignition and stepped out of the car.

Baxter made it inside with just a little time to spare, and he took a moment to take in his classmates. He'd signed up for the first lesson that worked with his schedule, a beginners ballroom class. He wasn't a beginner, of course, but he wanted to dance, and he knew his skills would be rusty.

There were several older people, many of them talking in groups. Some younger couples were there, and he saw a few shiny engagement rings -- he could spot soon-to-be-married couples a mile away at this point.

And then there was you.

You were the only other person there without a partner, so he made his way over to you -- of course you'd be paired together, so, ever the gentleman, he wanted to introduce himself.

There wasn't much of a chance to chat before the instructor began the class, but he learned a few things about you then. One, that you were, in fact, there alone -- you'd recently moved to the city and you didn't know anyone. Two, that you had no dancing experience whatsoever. And three, that you were completely and utterly charming.

If Baxter had been paired with anyone else, there's a chance he may have regretted taking the beginners class. The first order of business was mastering a simple box step, something he could almost literally do in his sleep. But as you put your hand in his, only meeting his eyes briefly so that you could watch your feet instead, he didn't have any regrets.

By the end of the class, he'd lost count of how many times you'd stepped on his toes, and his palm was damp with the sweat from yours. But his hand had gotten comfortable in its place on your back, and your laughter rang sweetly in his ears.

He was happy.

The instructor ended things far too soon for his liking -- after mastering the box step, or attempting to master it, the class moved on to the basics of the foxtrot, and after a few songs, class was dismissed.

"Thanks for dancing with me," you told him, stepping back from him and giving him a grin. "And sorry about your feet."

"It's quite all right," he said, matching your smile. "I've been hurt far worse."

"Still, maybe I should give you my number? In case you need to bill me for any medical expenses."

His breath hitched, and he felt his cheeks getting warm. It wasn't an unusual occurrence for someone to flirt with him, far from it, but what was unusual was that he liked it. He liked it very much.

"That would be smart," he responded, pulling out his phone. He handed it to you, and as you were adding yourself to his list of contacts, he added, "Perhaps it would also be prudent to meet again, just to discuss what's happened so that we could avoid any legal action?"

"Legal action?!" you exclaimed. He didn't know you that well, not yet, but it seemed like you were biting back a smirk. "Surely we can come to an agreement before it gets that far."

"We could discuss it over dinner. Are you free tonight?" he asked.

The joke was over, but you were still smiling, and so was he. You stood like that for a moment, not paying any mind to your classmates trickling out of the studio until you were alone together.

"I am," you told him, your voice a bit softer.

"It's a date then."

After making the plans, you finally parted ways. He went back to his car, a bounce in his step that wasn't there earlier. When he got in, he pulled out his phone again, scrolling through his contacts. It had gotten so much fuller than it had been just a few months ago. It was a good feeling.

He looked at your name, knowing that it was too soon to text you but finding himself wanting to talk to you again anyway. Instead, he pulled up his texts with Xavier and typed out a quick message:

"I did it."

[notafraidofredyellowandblue]

Re the many posts about whether Richard is in pain right now or whether he was in pain at a certain gig:

I have the same "disease" / problems with my back as Richard and the sad answer is that Richard is always in pain. more or less. This kind of problem never goes away completely. It's not even certain that surgery will work. There are phases when the pain isn't bad or you're even almost pain-free and then it can get so bad from one day to the next that you can hardly walk. Especially after sitting for a long time, which explains the video from last year. when he limps at the hotel after the flight/car journey. If the pain gets worse, then injections, painkillers and physiotherapy help (he knows a good physiotherapist;) ). That's all you can do. I'm sure the recurring pain or the prevention of pain is also the reason for his "Marlene Dietrich leg" on stage. At least thats a pose that helps me when standing becomes uncomfortable.

And as sad as it is, I think he can live with it as good as possible and has his tips and tricks ( yoga for example, which can help).

Sorry to hear you have to deal with back problems as well anon 🥺🌺

can confirm that yoga, and other exercizes did wonders for me too, back-wise 🌺

Wouldn't be surprised if this indeed was one of the reasons for the existance of the Rammstein yoga team

(Richard was at this session too according to the instructor, just didn't make it to the photo)

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

The Shadow Falcon | Knives in Darkness

please i need more of the complicated world of shadow falcon 🫣- anon

I really liked The Shadow Falcon, but as someone who really loved the Remus chapters at the end of Little Prince, I was wondering if there's any chance of that here too Also, what is Janus' part of this, considering Logan seems to be the main caretaker this time around -🇵🇱

Read on Ao3 Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: implied/referenced torture, implied/referenced major character death

Pairings: intrulogical, anxcietmus

Word Count: 4739

"You need to let me talk to HQ."

"And why the fuck would we do that?"

Roman sighs, wincing as he sits up a little more in bed. Remus adjusts the tray over his lap as Logan puts a few more pillows up behind him. He shuffles through his hand and plays another card. "Because the longer it takes them to find me, the more likely it is that when they do, they're not going to believe me when I say it's not worth attacking the building I'm in to get me back."

Logan lets out a small noise that's probably meant to be something of a scoff. "Not to insult the abilities of your esteemed colleagues—"

"Cut the bullshit. You and I both know that if it actually came down to an open firefight, you're not winning. There's a reason you've been stockpiling in the eastern quarter—yeah, we know about that, and I'm telling you this now because you're the one who actually has the power to make this not go the worst way possible," Roman says sharply when Logan's gaze darkens, "so how about we all pretend that I'm not just a hostage and talk about this?"

He glances over and sees Remus's surprised expression and raises an eyebrow. Remus shakes his head. "Nothing, nothing, I just…what happened to the boy who was always so eager to do whatever the instructors wanted?"

"Someone killed my brother."

"…yeah, that'll do it," he mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, but we're not—you reacted this way to finding out I'm still alive, how the fuck is everyone else going to react? How're they gonna believe you?"

"They will."

"They didn't last time," Logan says in a voice far too gentle to be anything other than devastating. Roman shifts with the bruises.

"Yeah, well, that was before I became the Agency's leading expert on hallucinogens and body doubles."

"…and how the fuck did you do that?" Roman doesn't even dignify that with a response, just turning and looking at Remus. "I'm a little scared of you right now."

"However impressive your credentials may be," Logan breaks in, "that doesn't exactly offer me any incentive to return you to their clutches, nor reveal anything about my own operations."

"Which is why I'm not asking you to do that. I'm asking you to let me contact HQ. You can monitor everything I say, you can even say it for me if you want to, but the longer they go without hearing from me, the harder this gets."

"And what would 'this' be?"

Roman stares at Logan for a long second before glancing at Remus. "The Agency's changed a lot more than either of you realize. We don't let our people go anymore. We don't just give up on them if they're presumed dead. We confirm it or we get them the fuck back."

"Also, since when have you started swearing more?"

"Since you put me on the good painkillers and I'm getting really tired of the bullshit."

"You mentioned." Logan looks both mildly amused and mildly irritated by how little Remus seems to care that he's mouthing off and making trouble—then again, that was always Remus's MO, he's probably thrilled that Roman's coming around to it, and doesn't that just tug on the heartstrings just a little more? "So your proposition is that if you communicate something along the lines of: 'alive, don't send out the cavalry,' this will buy you time to…what?"

"Well, if I send out something like: 'alive, relatively safe location, will move when recovered enough,' that buys you time to figure out what you want to do with me."

"I thought we were past treating you as though you were just a hostage."

"Just a hostage I may not be, but still your hostage? Yeah, very much so." Remus curses at him under his breath when he plays another card. "I'm not about to pretend I have more leverage than I do, which I don't. But I'm also not just going to let you think that nothing's going to happen if you keep me here without letting me tell them I'm alive."

"You seem awfully assured about the Agency's desire to keep you for someone who was horribly betrayed by them not ten years ago."

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you that it's different now before you believe me—"

"Are you gonna be the only one happy I'm alive," Remus interrupts, his voice far too small and scared for Roman's liking, "or not?"

Roman's mouth freezes halfway through whatever he was going to say next. He turns to look at Remus and yes, there it is—his shoulders are just a little too tense, his gaze focused a little too intently on the cards. He glances up at Roman and can't hold eye contact.

"Re," he mumbles, not caring a bit that he's still playing all of his emotions out clear as day for Logan fucking Hoskins, "if you think I was the only one ruined by your death, you're wrong."

Remus huffs in disbelief. "You're my brother."

"Yeah, which means I'm the one who—" don't get stuck there, don't get stuck there, don't get stuck there— "which means it affected me the most, but Re—oh my god, you don't know."

"Know what?"

Roman can't speak. He's can't say a fucking word because his hands are over his mouth and his eyes are wide and tears are streaming down his cheeks. He can't think about it. He can't talk about it. He can't—he can't—oh, God—

"Ro? Ro," Remus is saying, insistently now, the tray in his lap is gone, his hands are tugging at Roman's, trying to get them away from his face, "Roro, don't do that, don't—it's okay, just—just tell me what's going on—"

"Roman," Logan says, his voice gentle, too gentle, hands too kind as they try and smooth his hair back from his face, "you need to breathe. Take a breath, now, shh, don't try and speak just yet."

He can't. He's too busy reaching out for Remus, wrapping his hands too tightly in his hair and pulling him close, panting breaths shuddering into the crook of his neck as Remus flails awkwardly for somewhere to put his weight that won't fuck up Roman's ribs. Logan's hand is on his shoulder, the other probably somewhere on Remus but he doesn't care, can't care, not when he's pressing against Remus's pulse for everything he has and reminding himself that his brother is, after all, alive.

"Ro," Remus murmurs after god knows how long they spend like that, "Ro…what don't I know?

***

Psychological Findings and Progress Report #103826.89.2

Patient shows no sign of improvement. Patient is still insisting on feeding delusions involving conspiracies that [REDACTED] is still alive and that his body was a hoax created to test a new bioweapon. Patient shows high levels of stress and hysteria when challenged on this belief. Patient harmed three orderlies and threatened to 'burn this place to the ground before [he lets] something like this happen again!' Patient is being sent for more intensive treatment.

Addendum: patient is being quarantined for his own safety and the safety of other recruits. He has begun attempting to persuade others of the truth of his delusions. Further close monitoring will be required.

Addendum: patient has successfully convinced three other individuals. Patient has been restricted to solitary confinement.

Addendum: we need to do something now. He's getting out of control.

***

Post-Mission Injury Summary #12532985.43.8

Survivors underwent approximately ten weeks of physical and psychological torture. Initial review shows broken bones, bruises, lacerations consistent with training blades and real blades alike, and signs of severe medication withdrawal. One subject appears to have been waterboarded, another shows mild signs of hypoxia indicating suffocation.

Patient 161891435 is still in a medically-induced coma. It's unclear whether his body will continue trying to heal itself. At this time, we cannot draw any firm conclusions as to why, but one of the doctors thinks it might be due to the fact that we have no idea what truly happened to his brother.

***

Transcript from Interview #57

"Thank you for agreeing to this."

"Sure."

"Can you describe for me what you remember about the day you were taken?"

"Yeah. Uh, Princey—Roman was supposed to be coming back from training. He was half an hour late—I don't know if you know this about Roman, but he's not really the 'come back' late sort of person. We gave him the full hour to see if maybe he'd been called away to something else and just forgotten to message us—

"Could you clarify who 'us' is for the record?"

"Oh, yeah. Uh—me, I'm his training partner right now, Janus is our group instructor at the moment, and then Patton's overseeing our whole division. We were waiting for Roman to get back 'cause we had a, um, meeting thing we were going to do—"

"I'm going to remind you that this isn't a disciplinary hearing and it's important to be honest."

"Fine, yeah, we were gonna talk about the shitty stuff happening in the Agency, is that what you want to hear?"

"Is it true?"

"Considering what we just got tortured for, yeah, I think I can say it's fucking true and that we were fucking right. Actually, no, fuck that, Roman was fucking right and you can tell that to his face when he wakes up."

"There's been no change in Roman's condition, I regret to inform you."

"Oh, he's gonna wake up."

"Can I ask what makes you so sure?"

"'Cause we still don't know what actually happened to Remus, even now that the fucker who did this to us—all of us, might I add, you got fucked over by this too—is behind bars, and if you think Roman's gonna leave that job unfinished, you don't know him at all."

"You sound like you might admire him for that."

"If you're not a little scared of Roman right now? You're an idiot and you fucking should be. Someone took away his brother."

***

An Open Letter

To the people who don't know, my sincere apologies for the rude awakening you are about to receive. If there were a gentler way to do this, a more compassionate way to do this, even a slightly easier way to do this, I can promise you I would be taking it. But the very thing I am attempting to fight against would silence my words before you knew I had opened my mouth, and so I cannot afford to be gentle.

To the people who do know, know that your days at this Agency are numbered.

You enabled a power-hungry megalomaniac to manipulate and abuse a system designed to keep vulnerable people safe. You allowed him access to data that could destroy the world and limitless capabilities to affect it as he saw fit. You willingly turned a blind eye to those who were suffering and suppressed their voices when they tried to fix it. And now, when his crimes have been exposed and it's your own heads on the chopping block, you scramble to hold on to any semblance of power you thought you once had.

At midnight, the dossiers will be released. They will be made available to Level 0 clearance. There is nothing you can do to stop them and any action on your part to attempt to do so will be treated as treason of the highest order. You have until then to decide how you want your stories to end.

You will not force me out of this Agency. You will not silence me nor the others who have spoken up against the unfairness enabled by you and perpetuated by the system you helped to create. You will not preserve this horrific brutality and you will not get away with this again.

You know that I'm not alone. You know that there's no way you can win this. Your best option right now? Help us be better. You know it's possible because there's no other reason you would be so foolish as to try something like forcing us out. And because of that, we're willing to put our names on here, so if you try and come for us again? You'll find out why he wanted us dead so badly.

The clock is ticking. Your time is running out.

Signed,

Patton Everlark, Janus Russo, Virgil Dagenheart, Roman Prince

***

"Remus," Logan coaxes for the fifth hour in a row, "Remus, you need to sleep."

"He got tortured for me, Lolo," Remus responds in a hoarse croak, the same way he has over and over, his hands still white-knuckled around Roman's shirt and blankets, "he and the others—they almost killed them for me and I—I didn't—they don't—I—"

Logan crosses the room and sits down next to him, covering Remus's hands with his own. He doesn't attempt to make him let go. He rests his head on Remus's shoulder. Remus takes a shuddering breath and shrinks under him, so much so that Logan quickly shifts his arms to wrap around Remus's waist to keep him upright. He kisses his cheek.

"Talk to me, dear," he whispers, "please."

"Every time," he manages, "every time I think I know what happened, he tells me something else and I—I keep thinking about what might've happened if I'd just—"

He shakes his head suddenly.

"I know I can't think about it like that, but he—fuck, Lolo, he's—how did I ever think this would be easy?"

"I don't think you ever did," Logan says softly, "I think we both knew the moment you saw Roman again, it wouldn't be easy."

"Yeah, because I was trying to wrap my head around the fact that I'd have to kill my brother, not—not whatever this is." He leans against Logan's chest. "I don't know if I can do this anymore, Logan."

Logan hums, rocking them slightly back and forth. "So you believe him, then?"

"Why the fuck wouldn't I believe him?" He twists around to stare at him. "What incentive does he have to lie to me right now?"

"It splits our attention between finding out his supposed truth about the Agency with our goal to take it down. It splits your focus and emotionally compromises you. And it drives a wedge between you and me." He presses his hands gently against Remus's stomach. "And that's not saying what it means for the rest of our operation."

"Roman wouldn't do something like that," Remus says, but his voice is wavering, "he wouldn't."

"And you believe he would willingly rebel against everything he's ever known just on the off-chance that he was right? Is he that confident in himself?"

Remus looks back at Roman, asleep in the bed. His chest rises and falls steadily. His hands twitch.

"Believe me," Logan continues, his words tinged with something almost like remorse, "I want to believe him. If what Roman's saying about the Agency is true, then there's a greater chance that we could reach an agreement without an unnecessary amount of bloodshed. But, Remus, if we're wrong—"

"Are you jealous or something?"

Logan startles into silence. "What?"

"Are you jealous that I care this much about Roman? Is that what this is? Are you actively trying to undermine how much I care about my brother right now?"

A chuckle rumbles through his back. "Do I seem like the type to be threatened by such a thing?"

"I don't know, you're trying really hard to convince me not to listen to my brother right now and I'm not exactly sure what motive you have other than, oh, I don't know, you don't like that I'm paying this much attention to him."

"It's your brother, of course you're paying a lot of attention to him." Logan holds him a little closer. "And he knows that too."

There's a pause. The sudden quiet in the room makes the slight rasp in Roman's breathing all the more obvious. Remus slowly frees one of his hands and adjusts the blanket so it covers Roman's shoulder. Logan doesn't say anything. The heating in the room kicks on. Somewhere outside a car drives by.

"Stick to the plan, then?"

Logan nods. "If Roman is telling the truth, then things will be much easier."

Remus swallows heavily. "And if he isn't?"

"Then we'll be prepared."

"So are we gonna let him talk to HQ, then?"

"We will, yes, but it will be on our terms."

"We won't hurt him," Remus says suddenly, his voice small and quiet again in that way he hates, "we won't—we won't hurt him unless we have to, right?"

Logan shifts, letting his grip slide loose just enough to cradle Remus's chin. Remus's eyes are wide and watery, his hands beginning to tremble ever so slightly. Logan kisses his cheek gently, then his forehead, closing his eyes and letting them rest together.

"Not unless we have to," he agrees, "and I would never make you do it."

Remus's breath shudders out of him and he sags into Logan's hold. His grip loosens slightly on Roman's shirt as Logan tucks his head under his chin. As Remus begins to doze, his eyes trace the lines of Romans' sleeping face.

"The two of you do look remarkably similar when you sleep," he muses in a voice too quiet for Remus to properly make out, "but there will always be little differences here and there."

Such is the reality of growing up believing your brother would leave you for dead. Such is the price to pay for misunderstanding.

***

They meet in a warehouse. Not terribly original, not terribly secure, but necessary. Roman sits in a chair, mobile enough to make it there but not to stand and pace the way he desperately wants too. He feels every bit the hostage still, even though he knows that this meeting is on as equal footing as they could manage.

He still wishes Remus could've heard the disbelief in Virgil's voice. Wishes he could've heard the hope that he might be able to see him again. Even the hope that Roman might be wrong and that this horrible thing that happened might be a little less horrible because it would mean they didn't abandon one of their own too early.

But in a few minutes, Virgil's going to be here. He's going to be here and Remus is going to see that he was never forgotten, never abandoned, that they tore down and remade the world so that there would never be another like him, not that there ever could, because he's Remus and he was theirs and nothing could ever happen for the rest of time that would change that. Ever.

"You're anxious," comes Logan's soft voice—no, he's still not over that, not when it rasps unfamiliarly at his skin— "try and relax."

He turns his head to snap that he'll be as tense as he wants, thank you very much, only to see that Logan isn't talking to him, he's talking to Remus. Remus stops short like he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and only whirls around to pace in another direction. Logan rolls his eyes fondly and relaxes into the other chair, shooting Roman a look like they're about to bond over how stubborn Remus can be.

"What?"

"Oh, don't give me that, little hero, you have the same pinched expression on your face right now. Don't try and pretend you wouldn't be doing the same thing if you could pace right now."

"I'm not going to answer that question on the grounds that I don't want to."

"Mm, and would such a defense hold up in any meaningful court room?"

"Funny, I wasn't sure you knew what those were, since you're in the habit of getting yourself into the most kangaroo-laden courts you can find."

"It's less fun when they have actual kangaroos," Remus adds, because he's Remus and that's what he does, "trust me."

"You know what? I'm gonna take your word on that one."

He doesn't quite see the small flinch as Remus hears him say that, but something in his brain just clicks. The same one that had him look at that corpse—don't get stuck there, don't get stuck there, don't get stuck there—just a little bit closer.

"Re—"

"They're here," Logan says abruptly, looking down at his phone, "their car just pulled up."

Remus pivots abruptly, facing the entrance. The three of them wait in silence as the door slowly slides open and—

"Holy fucking shit."

Remus freezes. "Virgil? Is that—"

"Yeah, it's fucking me, you think I was gonna find out you were alive and not race down here to see you? Holy fucking shit, Remus, you're—you're—oh my fucking god—"

And then there's a hand wrapping around Virgil's shoulder and holding him still as Janus walks in behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Remus stand up a little taller and he can't help the small smile that crosses his face at the same instincts that come over him. Even now, some part of them is still the little kids standing at the edge of the training mats waiting for instructions.

"The course objectives for the round-off qualifiers," Janus says smoothly, like they're back on those mats again, "what are they?"

He sees a truly impressive range of emotions cross Remus's face, from surprise to fury to something he can't quite name—something else in his brain clicks—before settling on a wide grin. "Go fuck yourself, old man, or sit back and watch."

There's a pause. Then Janus sniffles and there's a very quiet oh, sweetie, and two people are dashing across the warehouse floor to wrap Remus up in their arms. Roman can't stop beaming at Remus's confused little face, nor at the way his knees go weak as Janus presses a fierce kiss to the side of his head. He always denied that he was capable of that, after all, but oh, now he's just a little pissed that Remus fucked up his ribs so bad because he wants to be in that hug too, dammit.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Remus," Virgil's babbling, "we didn't—we didn't believe Roman until it was too late and we—they got us, I couldn't—I tried—"

"You tried?"

"Of course we tried, sweetie," Janus murmurs when Virgil just chokes off in a sob, "we were—I don't think I could ever put into words how furious we were when we realized—when Roman convinced us that he was telling the truth—"

"Which was hard," Roman adds, not above it in this moment, not right now, not when his face hurts from grinning too much, and not when Janus is so distracted he doesn't even get scolded for it.

"—but you have to know, sweetie, we moved Heaven and earth to try and find you afterwards." His gaze slides to Logan for only a moment. "I should've known you'd be resourceful enough to make it."

"Of course you should," Remus says with enough false bravado that Roman almost believes him for a second, "I've always been better than you thought I was."

"Oh, sweetie, no—"

"You've always been his favorite," Virgil interrupts, "it's really fucking obvious."

"True."

"Wait, what?"

"I don't have favorites, you two."

"He says, you know, like a liar."

"Mhm."

"Wait," poor Remus says, and fuck Roman wants to hug his brother right now, "wait, I'm—I was—"

Janus softens—see? Favorite—and cups Remus's face properly in his hands, letting Virgil move over to Roman to check that he's alright—which is not the priority right now, but he does appreciate it. "Sweetie, if you don't know how much you were loved, then we've failed more miserably than I thought we ever did."

"He thought you abandoned him," Logan says softly when Remus can't speak, and Janus's head whips around to stare at him, "he thought you were willing to believe he was dead because it was easier."

"Bullshit," Virgil spits, "Remus, that's bullshit, right?"

But Roman's already been through this, and he can only grab for Virgil's hand when Remus suddenly stops being able to make eye contact. Janus looks like he's about to cry again—which is its own level of fucking weird as hell—and Virgil just rushes back over to wrap him up in a hug. The three of them start mumbling together and Logan's expression just softens further as he watches them interact.

Eventually, they step back, wiping away tears with varying levels of discreteness—or in Remus's case, refusing to wipe them at all. Janus attempts to gather himself and looks at Logan.

"I'm no fool. I know this meeting is conditional. State your terms."

"I won't be so brutish as to insist upon such haggling right now," Logan says, "perhaps you should take this as a token of good faith between us."

"Your last 'token of good faith' involved a hundred suitcases stuffed with half-bloated corpses showing up on the City's doorstep. Try again."

"Why the animosity?" He leans back in his chair. "Have I not earned myself any goodwill at all?"

There's a silent stare-down for a few seconds. Then Logan sighs.

"I suppose it was too much to hope that you would be reasonable right away." He stands, adjusting his suit jacket. "Remus, Roman, I believe our time here is up."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Virgil steps between them. "What the fuck do you mean, 'Roman?' Roman's not going anywhere with you!"

Logan just turns and looks at Roman. And Roman…

…is torn. Because he knows the smart thing would be to go back with Janus and Virgil. Logan is right, this isn't the time or place for this negotiation and if they all have time to rest and recover—mainly him—then the next time they actually meet, they might have a chance at actually getting somewhere. Plus, now he knows that Remus is alive and safe, then he might be able to rest at the end of all of this.

But walking away from his brother? Again? That might just finish the both of them off.

"Before you go," Virgil blurts out, "can—can Patton see you first?"

Remus's head whips around. "Patton's here?"

"Yeah, Patton's here, he—fuck, Remus, yeah, he's here. Can he just—before we do anything else? Can he?"

Remus just nods silently and Virgil steps back, muttering into his comm. He glances back at the door and the whole building waits silently.

Patton steps inside and three things happen in quick succession.

One: Patton bursts into tears and starts running forward.

Two: there's an almost imperceptible schink as something metallic slides into place.

Three: Roman lunges up out of his seat and tackles Logan's chair to the ground as he pulls out a gun.

His ribs scream in protest. He ignores it. The gunshot goes wide. Footsteps and shouts come from outside. Someone is yelling. He gets up and picks up the chair, throwing it at Logan. Janus and Virgil are already shouting. Patton's still running toward them. He looks up at Remus.

Shock. Surprise.

The thing he couldn't name before: guilt.

They make eye contact.

He's never been more grateful that Remus is his brother.

He hauls himself to his feet and starts running.

***

"Well," Logan sighs as he hears the four of them have gotten away, "that didn't go precisely as expected, but—"

"You lied to me."

Remus's back is one angry line. His hands are curled into fists.

"You lied to me."

"Remus—"

"You said we wouldn't hurt him unless we had to. You said this would just be a meeting. You lied."

Logan doesn't say anything. Remus just looks off in the direction Roman had run. Because Roman had taken one look at Remus and been able to tell that Remus might have known something, but he hadn't known and hadn't agreed with what just happened.

Roman hasn't abandoned him. He never had.

And neither had the others.

"…what have we done?"

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs@el-does-photography@princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl@raven1508

[myheartalivewrites]

Five Favorite Fics

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤

Hey @14carrotghoul thanks for tagging me! Knife to my throat I'll try to pick my favourites! 😂

Here we go, in no particular order:

Happy NY - New Year's Eve AU, ~11k, E rated

This has everything I love: flash falling in love, then a bit of miscommunication, Henry being angsty, Alex being a force of nature. Both of them as responsible college professors even though they're still horny buggers! Sexy dancing! All the good stuff

Down by the Water, I Saw You - exes to lovers AU, ~63k, E rated

This is my angstiest long fic - A and H having loved and lost each other as teenagers and then trying to find their way back. It's all set on holiday locations and it's got more than its fair share of smut to balance everything out. I really buried myself in this, and felt a huge sense of loss when I was actually done posting. I kinda still miss it

You Spin Me (Right Round) - gym AU, ~5k, E rated

Thought I'd big up this little guy! It's a quick and dirty, mostly-porn-not-so-much-plot fic where Henry is a spin instructor and Alex comes to one of his classes. Horntown ensues. I had a lot of fun pulling from my own experiences to write it 🫣✋

Don't Wanna Be a Fool for You, roommates AU, ~6k, E rated

It's smut, but Henry-centric, introspective smut. They're roommates and Henry's in love and doesn't know what to do with himself, until he decides to fucking bolt. Angsty sex ensues. For whatever reason this gave me exactly the right sort of feels I needed when I wrote it, and the sort of desperateness of it all really works for me.

Love and War, WWII army training camp AU, ~11k, E rated

Recency bias, bc I only just posted this last night and am still faintly shaking with the adrenaline of getting it all done in a little over a day. I had to go back and fix a million typos this morning, but hey. It's done.

This is my first historical fic and first anything to do with the army. Henry's a captain, training troops, Alex comes from overseas for training and they fall for each other.

Because I set myself the challenge of writing it super quickly, there's a sort of lightness in the writing that I really like. I didn't allow myself to get bogged down with details, specifics or side plots. It's just two guys falling for each other and going for it, and I'm really happy with how it came out. And it's a happy ending. No war angst allowed.

I think all my mutuals have done this, so open tag for anyone who wants to do this and please tag me - I love getting fic recs!

❤️ Happy reading.

[dingochef]

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Stalking, P in V, oral (female and male receiving), Semi-public sex, light spanking,

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: You and Jake discuss the future and have some fluffy sexy time.

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Chapter 1: Devil in the Details

It takes approximately three days after Jake gets his new orders to be an instructor at Top Gun for reality to set in. Jake is going to be here with you for the long haul which makes you ecstatic beyond belief, but ever the practical one you wonder about some of the details and then proceed to overthink everything like normal.

Where's he going to live? Here? That seems fast to you or does it?

The thought of coming home to him everyday was comforting.

What is day to day life going to be like? You're not filled with dread thinking about the details but a kind of giddy excitement. The difference between hoping for the future and living it.

You had taken some much needed time off while Jake had his two weeks of leave after the mission. You spent most of the first two days in our own little bubble, barely dressed most of the time.

It was Thursday morning when he mentioned he had to be out of his temporary quarters.

"I'll need to go over and pack up my stuff, not that there's a lot of it, I've been living most of my life for the past couple years out of two duffle bags. I was thinking I might–," he stumbles on his words a bit, "or would you be okay with me temporarily staying here with you till my permanent housing is ready on base next week?"

He says the last part kind of rushed, you can tell he is thinking of all the implications of living together and probably wondering how you're going to feel about that. He looks moderately worried.

You go and sit on the sofa where he is sprawled wearing sweats and a Navy t- shirt drinking a cup of coffee. You snuggle into his side careful not to jostle the hot liquid; he wraps an arm around you reflexively.

"Jake, that's not a problem or even a worry. You can stay here with me, I'd like that," you say, looking up at him reassuringly.

He lets out a breath,

"Okay, I didn't want to intrude, I know I've been enough of a wrecking ball to your life already."

"And me to yours," you remind him as you give him a kiss.

"True, I've picked up that you like your space."

You shrug your shoulders lightly in agreement.

"Not that I'm a hermit, I'm just selective with the people I invite into my little bubble."

"I'm glad you've let me in."

He leans down to kiss you and you straighten up to meet his lips.

"Ugh, look at us, so sappy," you chide him,

"So, you're going to live on base? What's that going to look like?"

"Luckily, I will have 'Officers Quarters'", he says, complete with air quotes, "Which sound far fancier than they are, it's basically a one bedroom apartment. Private and furnished. They're relatively cheap and close. Better than anything I could find off base on short notice and within a reasonable price range."

"Yeah, that's San Diego for you. Although, I'm not sure how much time you'll really be spending there, because I'm pretty sure if you're around I'm going to want you in my bed."

His face brightens at the thought which quickly morphs into a devilish smile. He puts down his coffee cup and pulls you astride him. You lean down to kiss him as his hands run up your back under the T-shirt dress that you usually wear around the house when you want to be comfortable. Jake really likes them in that all you wear with it is underwear, which makes everything very accessible. The kiss deepens and you wrap your arms around his neck. His hands have worked their way to the front and are now caressing your breasts. Your hands move to his hair which is slightly messed up and as he hasn't showered and and styled it perfectly into place yet. His light hint of stubble grazes your cheek as he kisses his way along your jawline line to where he can whisper in your ear,

"Speaking of this bed, I think that's where you and I should go now."

He starts kissing down your neck as you hum in agreement,

"That sounds like an excellent idea, but only," you spring off his lap and start to run around the couch towards the bedroom, "if you can catch me."

He stands up and jumps over the couch like a hurdle and catches up to you about three feet away from the bed. Picking you up with ease he tosses you on the bed where you land on your back, giggling as you bounce on the bed.

"Looks like you caught me, now what?" you say and raise an eyebrow.

Jake laughs, "I've got some ideas."

He pulls off his shirt and pulls down his sweats and boxer briefs in one motion and is naked in seconds. You're certain you will never get tired of the magnificent sight that is Jake Seresin naked. He kneels on the bed and crawls up to meet you, tenderness on his face as he tucks a piece of your hair that has fallen over your eyes back behind your ear. He stops his head down to kiss you in a searing take your breath away kind of kiss. Leaning back he teases you with his lips to get you to lean up as you follow his kiss so he can take your dress off. With a gentle push to your shoulder he gets you to lay back down again and he is instantly at your breasts cupping them with both hands while he sucks at each nipple with fervor.

You whine with need as he pulls off the second nipple, hands grabbing at the back of his head to keep him there. Your breasts cool in the air as his saliva evaporates and he kisses his way down your torso till he hits the band of your underwear.

"These might be in the way, best to get rid of them," he murmurs, kissing your hip bone.

And with that small notice your underwear are quickly pulled off and flung to the floor to join the rest of your clothing. You wonder what he is planning on next when the thought is pushed out of your head by the feeling of Jake plunging his tongue between your folds earning him a well deserved moan that rises deep from within you.

He attacks your clit with his tongue and gently adds one finger to your pussy and then another. He is a man on a mission, and that mission is to make you come as soon as possible it seems. Your hands go to his head and grab his hair, you wonder if you're pulling on it too tight until you hear and feel him groan with pleasure at your clit. He is fast and relentless, this is no scenic ride today. He has one goal and it's for you to come undone now. He arches his fingers and hits a different spot that makes you see fireworks. He gently massages his fingers in large circles and the feeling is exquisite. Your toes start to curl and your hands pull harder on his hair. He is keeping the same fast pace on your clit. Moaning loudly, you keep him close to your cunt,

"Oh my god, Jake don't stop, so close, so close."

This plea just intensifies his actions and you can feel yourself being wound up and then it all breaks, you come with a strangled cry and clamp your thighs around his head. You are bucking around with each wave of pleasure and he is holding on, tongue and fingers still working, but at a slower pace. You finally have to wave him off, it's too much.

"Too much, too much, Jake,"

you pant out, breathless and dizzy.

He lets go and pulls back breathing heavily. You look down as he wipes his chin clean with the back of his hand and crawls up to take you in his arms.

"I got you, it's all good,"

he murmurs as he kisses your temple as he holds you through the descent back to earth. You can feel his cocky smile at my temple. You come back down in his arms, all the while he is whispering in my ear,

"Sweet El, so beautiful when you come."

Your breathing returns to something approaching normal and you feel his embrace loosen and he asks, gently,

"Ready for more?"

You look into his eyes and say, "Yes, definitely yes."

Jake says,

"Here, get on your knees."

You move around and he is on his knees behind you, you figure that you are going to do doggy style. Jake is rubbing his very ready cock up and down your slit.

"Please,"

you whine a little more undignified than you would like.

You hear him laugh into your shoulder as he gently pushes in. It's then that he puts one hand on your shoulder and wraps his arm around your waist to raise you so your back is against his chest. You lean back on him as he thrusts in and out. Each push and pull delivers a delicious wave of pleasure. One hand is now touching your breasts and the other has moved down to your clit. You wrap your arms up and around the back of his head. The different points of contact are overheating your body and then Jake starts to whisper in your ear,

"You are so beautiful like this. One day I want to get a mirror and make love just like this so you can see just how breathtaking you are."

The praise is almost too much and you start to turn your head away, he reaches up and turns your head so that he can kiss you. His fingers circling your clit in a slow rhythm.

The pace has been steady, but not frantic. You can hear his breath starting to get ragged,

"El, so good, I'm getting so close."

The moment of intimacy, a level you have never experienced before, overwhelms you and you come apart clenching hard around him. Jake lets out a low moan as you ride out your climax from him. He holds back from fucking you hard, keeping his pace the same and prolonging your pleasure as he chases his. Your hand tangled in his hair tightens and you urge him to let go,

"Come for me, Jake. Need you."

Your plea pushes him over the edge and his warmth floods your pussy. Slowly your rhythm stills. He pulls out and you lay down on the bed and open your arms to him and he lays his head on your chest. You stroke his hair as your heart rates return to normal.

Jake's hand idly traces the line of your clematis tattoo on your stomach with his finger.

"So, tell me about your tattoos. I recognize this as a clematis vine. They grow insanely big in Colorado to the top of phone poles, hundreds of blooms all at once.'

"They've always been my favorite flower. I remember going to my grandma's house, it was a big old farmhouse north of Lansing, and her gardens had tons of them. I always liked how they found a way to grow bigger every year. You're the first person to correctly identify it."

He chuckles,

"My mom is super into gardening and didn't hesitate to draft her two sons into helping her. I picked up a few things here and there."

He kisses his way up to your side where you have a tattoo, just under your left breast. Titling his head to get a better view, he asks,

"What's this one?"

It's more simple than the one on your leg, black line work and no color.

"It's the lunar module from the moon landing."

He tilts his head again,

"Oh yeah, I see it now. You are such a nerd."

You laugh,

"I don't deny it, I'm definitely a nerd, but I'm your nerd."

He laughs and you can see his eyes sparkle when you say you're his. He moves to roll you on your stomach to get access to the last tattoo which is on your lower back.

"So this one I think I get,"

he says as kisses it from one side to the other. It starts on one side with a paper airplane with a dotted line that loops a few times to meet a rendering of the Wright Flyer in the middle of your back; the dotted line continues on with a few more loops to the outline of a SR-71 Blackbird.

"So why a Blackbird?"

"I've just always thought it was a very cool looking airplane, which I'm glad my 22 year old self chose a plane that was made by the company I would eventually work for."

He laughs into your skin,

"I'm not going to lie, a F-18 would look pretty good on you. Right about here," he playfully nips at your ass cheek. The stubble on his face tickles and you giggle in response.

"I think I made my opinions known on Boeing the first night we met," you say as you roll over. He winces as he recalls the experience.

"Yeah, I didn't pick up on a lot of clues, I felt nervous around you."

"I didn't pick up on any of that, you oozed confidence. Some of that might have been the beer and tequila, but you were a pretty smooth operator."

"Hah, till you shot me out of the air like a missile."

"Well, it was a weird way to start, but it got us here, so it worked."

You hear his stomach growl and yours answers back.

"As much as I don't want to leave this bed, we do need to get some sustenance and you need to clear out of your temporary digs this afternoon."

"Fine, fine, always the sensible one."

Credit for the amazing clematis tattoo in the mood board.

Chapter 2

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered

@mayhemmanaged

@callmemana

@dempy

@hangmanscoming

@lanie-k

@callsign-viper

@senjoritanana

@djs8891

@atarmychick007

@memoriesat30

@genius2050

@midnightmagpiemama

[five-nights-at-artsys]

Post-Shift Anxieties

[or: two long-time instructors talk to each other early in the morning.]

"... Scott? Everything alright there?"

Fuck. Fuck no, he's not dead, right–? Probably just conked out. Hopefully just that. A bit of a nudge ought to wake him up...!

Kim quickly tapped on the other man's shoulder. "Scott? Hey, it's— It's me, Kim."

"..ngh..?" He slowly starts to wake up. ".... wh-what time is—"

And then it hits him. "Ah—! Hhhheck, d-did— Did, uh, did something happen—??," he frantically asked.

"Whoa, whoa, hey," Kim said while backing away, just to give the fellow instructor some space. "It's fine, it's fine. Nothing happened, I think, you just.. passed out for a bit there and I was worried you were..."

She trailed off. Both of them knew what she meant anyways, after that last guy. Probably best not to dwell on it for long.

"... yeah."

"O-oh." Scott looked away in embarassment. "Uhm, s-sorry."

"Hey, no need to apologise," she replied. "You work late, I'd be more surprised if you didn't pass out."

An awkward silence started to brew between the two, before Kim sighed and spoke up once more. "Y'know, if you want, I could reassign you back to th—"

"N-no!" He interrupted. "I-I- I mean— I wouldn't... mind, but...."

"...but..?"

Okay. That's a first. Nobody else has objected to a shift transfer from night to day... Ever, come to think about it. Not from her, not from...

"... just— I don't wanna bother you, o-okay? Besides, uh, I- I'm sure I can handle it eventually. Just— Just give me some time, heh." And there he is again, with the same tired, awkward smile she came to associate with him.

She must admit, she's a bit— No, very worried for her old friend. Scott's got a bad habit of pushing himself too much for seemingly no good reason. But...

"... if you say so," she said, with a faint smile in return. "Take care of yourself, alright?"

"I-I will, don't worry."

[aeoneris]

for archival reasons, and because rise has officially ended, i'm coping by looking back at the past two years and thinking about the master utsushi rabbit hole. this is based on a long reply i sent to a mutual but i think it deserved to have its own post where others can read it and i can expand further on certain details. or something. i don't know. i have no idea who will read this but if you do, please enjoy...

the ballad of master utsushi.

he was there regardless.

always watching.

waiting.

i wound up getting attached to utsushi-kyokan (master/instructor utsushi), ウツハン/utsuhan (utsushi x hunter) ship, and finding his Japanese fan community late 2021, and i've been chatting with mutuals and friends i made there since. at that time, capcom had opened up pre-orders for his nui (plushie). this plush is lovingly referred to as "Unui-kun", and people love to take him around and bring him places. here's my Unui-kun in new york city lol

fans love to dress him up and make clothing and accessories for him. had i known just how attached i would become, i would not have set my Unui-kun to ship via surface mail delivery because it took about 2-3 months extra for him to arrive... ;;

but anyway, it seemed that his popularity was growing because they continued to make more merch of him. he seems to have more than any of the other characters.

many of these are limited print/pre-order only, or were from specific events like the capcom cafe features. trying to get his merchandise became crazy, because scalpers started to pick up on how badly people wanted goodies of him?!

just how popular is this guy?! what's with the character tax!!

and how did this even happen... we're playing monster hunter, not an idol game! but i think it really speaks a lot for itself how rise had such colorful characters that you could get attached to. it seems he really jives with many female and queer players, so good on capcom for that hehe. many of the japanese fans i've met are either older women, very often mothers, or gnc, which i found to be really cool. the english-speaking utsushi fans are usually the same, too. the solidarity is real...

I found out that a lot of ppl, including myself, shared a similar experience: they missed out on a majority of utsushi's flavor text in base rise bc they didn't talk to him or the other NPCs very much during village and high rank quests, and therefore didn't even think much of him until after the fact. people double-taking when going through the game again and actually catching on to his antics... I think what really got things going was when they released his DLC voice and learned about his, uh, extremely affectionate lines towards the hunter when it comes to mew mew and blowing a kiss LOL. (the "welcome back, master!" line?!?! there's so much art of him in a maid outfit... and the way he says ace/manadeshi in his sleep at the table?!?! scandalous?!?!) even for me, he got my attention only once i saw the official art of him (realizing "hey he's got a cute design actually") and eventually encountering utsushi x hunter fanart on pixiv. another thing that got me noticing him was brian david gilbert's now deleted tweet about how zac efron and utsushi are the same. thankfully, we have the internet archive to save the existence of this post and i have to make sure people experience this lost media.

once i realized how weirdly close he was to the hunter, the gears started turning

i confirmed that ppl really did notice that it was unusual for an instructor character to refer to his pupil as "manadeshi (beloved/dearest disciple)" in the manner that he does, being so close to them in a way that felt so familiar and warm. he was already popular enough that by valentine's day 2022, fans literally sent real chocolates to capcom addressed to utsushi. i knew about this for a while, but i was shook that they wound up officially addressing that this really happened during the last update video.

after they received his chocolates, they immediately got one of the (female) illustrators on board to quickly draw that really cute valentine's day art of utsushi. the japanese tweet for that artwork had even a little bit more text than the english one…

that "i'll always be watching over you" line…

(and while i'm here, i have to mention the valentine's day art we got for 2023- i made a separate post about THAT.)

we started to suspect capcom caught on to this niche community's love for utsushi, and they started to kind of... troll us??? LOL.

throughout the previews of sunbreak last year, they would start obsessively sneaking utsushi into those chibi artworks. and when npc followers were announced, people were scrambling to find out if he was going to be one of them, but there also was some weird radio silence about him for a bit...

in one of the earlier trailers that showed the elgado hub for the first time, there was a very short part of the clip where ppl could see someone standing in the distance at the corner of the screen. all the utsushi fans went nuts because they were taking a magnifying glass and zooming up at there wondering if it was really him, because everyone wanted him to be there in sunbreak LOL.

of course we'd eventually find out that would be his perch for most of the game! it was only during the final preview trailer before the release of sunbreak did they finally announce utsushi as a follower, as if they were saving the best for last. and sunbreak dropped, we got to see him in elgado and enjoy hunting with him. and it didn't end there. he wound up being featured in two of the short stories released last summer, and we would not forget this incident.

when i think about how easy it is to just play through the story and miss out on following specific out-of-the-way flavor texts, let alone know about all this outside of the game, i wonder if utsushi joining the hunter in the battle against amatsu in the penultimate battle was strange, because he has such a spotlight on him, even being the one who allows you to ride an apex which was normally impossible. if people didn't acknowledge him before, certainly people would love him now.

his final line after you defeat amatsu: it's cute and silly in english... but in japanese, his line and delivery was extremely, almost unabashedly... romantic. many people were shocked because it sounded like a fervent confession.

"I'll say it once more... You are my pride, my beloved disciple."

finally, during the last update video…

we got this line straight from the director LOL. utsushi wound up being his personal favorite character in rise, and perhaps why we wound up seeing more and more of him in sunbreak.

all in all, if you kept up with the flavor text of rise, and if you followed utsushi's dialogue throughout the base game and expansion, the emotional pay off at the end was even better! and it is a shame when this stuff is mostly optional or you have to go out of the way for it, with so much being missable with every bit of progression. but making a monhun where story and character interactions are pushed more… i think they were on to something. it's probably something that could be divisive, but personally I think they should go all in on it more in the future. Rise proved that they could make charming and memorable (not to mention, named) characters... if they lean into it more in a future entry, then i hope they do it in a way where everyone can enjoy it and not feel like they missed out. but I also hope they would make it so that people don't feel overwhelmed with flavor text... it comes down to taste, but i think i have faith that monhun can try making more character-driven stories while still keeping the core of the series in tact.

here are some more miscellaneous utsushi things that i didn't know how to fit in earlier:

he's been featured multiple times in capcom cafe entrees. here's his matcha latte dango drink:

and for the sunbreak stories: a cake based on his fight with rathalos together with the royal guard, and then a drink that represents his... uh, struggle across the ocean to chase the hunter to elgado. because they will never let him live that down. i won't either.

here's a t-shirt of utsushi and kagami you can pick up on amazon right now. kagami was a very interesting arc when he was first shown- he was introduced as a long time friend of utsushi, training together in the past, but eventually parting ways.

his seiyuu in japanese is a sentai actor who loves monster hunter, so essentially, kagami is lowkey like a self-insert for him lol. he's goofy in english because he's voiced by a certain youtuber, but in japanese he takes a different direction of silly because he has a "chuunibyou" edgelord cringe way of talking. it's such a shame that kagami wasn't really in the game itself besides being mentioned in a few mission descriptions because i would've loved to see him interact with utsushi and the hunter, and i wish the royal knights and many of the NPCs had more cutscenes or something. it makes me think, if it weren't for the pandemic, could rise's story and scenario have been something more because of the DLC voice characters like hibasa/monju/kagami? anyway, a popular headcanon is that utsushi and kagami are ex-boyfriends lol (i personally like this one and adapted it for my utsuhan fanfics). but there are even those who ship kagautsu too (although it is rare because people overseas are a little wary of shipping characters who are based on real people).

and lastly, one of my personal favorites... the diseased kyokan shirt. this is from an online capcom shop, and you can use a proxy service like fromjapan.com to order it.

if you read this all, thank you! happy hunting! with the instructor! we love that guy! the guy of all time!

[ekat-fandom-blog]

DC x Deadpool crossover idea(s)

So, Deadpool winds up in DC somehow (who cares how really) and decides that meh, he didn't really care where he was as long as he could do mercenary work. So he gets some work easy peasy. He starts slow, but starts gaining traction.

Deathstroke thinks he's got a copy cat on his hands, but quickly learns that he's outmatched by sheer insanity. Deadpool's fighting style is erratic - as though he learned how to fight and use weapons from proper instructors but couldn't figure out which style to use. He also fights like he couldn't care less about how much he gets hurt - which is quickly proven correct when Dp stabs himself through the stomach in order to stab Deathstroke while he had him in a headlock. The man talked the entire time. After that fight Deathstroke learns that one of Dp's talents is pick-pocketing seeing as 3 of his backup knives are missing. He decides it's not worth bothering the man.

A few other mercenaries also went after Deadpool for various reasons (a hit, encroaching on territory, etc) but the ones that weren't killed came to the same conclusion. He wasn't worth going after. He was a master of too many trades (especially being annoying). They understood why he called himself "merc with a mouth". Another reason they decided not to fuck with him was the rumors that the guy who wanted to hire someone to cut out Deadpool's tongue was found dead in his office with an unknown person's tongue on his desk.

It didn't take long for those in the merc business (and those monitoring it) to learn that Deadpool apparently had a code. And that anyone who tricked him into breaking it was dealt with in rather humiliating - and deadly - ways.

Deadpool eventually took a job in Gotham. Which of course led him to dealing with the Bats. Which is frustrating (for them more so than him.) They think Cass will be able to read him just as well as she can read everyone else, and she can but he changes his mind in the middle of whatever he's doing doesn't seem to know what he's going to do before he does it. She took him down but it wasn't as easy as she expected it would be. It also didn't last long because the pole she left him handcuffed to for the police only had a bloody hand and a pair of handcuffs. Jason feels weird about going after the guy because their morals actually line up pretty well and it's kinda like looking at a fun house mirror.

Taking him to jail themselves also proved to be pointless. They confiscated his weapons and not only did he somehow get them back, but he also rigged his cell wall to explode before he got them back. Using power restricting cuffs also didn't work very well. Unfortunately, power restricting cuffs worked to keep him detained better than anything else.

He almost always completes his missions unless a hero can convince him that he got bad intel.

One hero watches him run out of a burning building holding a child and assumes the worst only for Dp to calm the child down and convince them to trust the hero before disappearing.

Another hero watched him get trapped in a building they were told was rigged with explosives and never saw him exit. They also watch him rip open the body bag he was put in half a day later.

[pup-deaddove]

It’s Mer-May! So in honor of the month, chew on this idea:

a hungry Siren Frank lures you in and fucks you while eating you alive

-💖 Anon

I Wanna See What Your Insides May Be

Warnings: cannibalism? He's a siren so kind of, kidnapping, noncon/rap3, graphic descriptions of gore, graphic descriptions of cannibalism, broken bones, necrophilia towards the end DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.

Paring: Siren!FrankIero/GN!Reader

Extra notes: lmk if I missed any warnings :) I write these off the top of my head so it comes out of pure horniness :3 also slight unreliable narrator

AAAA this was supposed to be out last month and I'm so so sorry I've had a lot going on 😭

Frank was experienced. But not in the way that most humans used that sentence. No, no. Frank was experienced in luring those dumb, ignorant humans into his cave.

Frank didn't have to hunt as much as he did. One human could last him roughly a month if he's lucky. He hunted for the thrill.

Oh God, how he loved how they screamed and scratched and squirmed away desperately. And you were no exception.

You had been scuba diving. A usually innocent and memorable experience. Who would have known it would be your last? Frank of course! You decided to wander away from your instructor. The group was still in sight, and you got the hang of this diving stuff pretty quickly, it's fine.. right?

Well that's all Frank needed to see from his cave. He knew these waters like the back of his hand. He had lived in them for hundreds of years, and hunted for even longer. He knew exactly how to break apart these little frail humans.

Frank advanced closer in swift movements. He knew every hiding spot and little crevice he could squeeze into.

Like all the other humans, you didn't seem to notice all the terrified fish swimming away from the creature you failed to notice. You were only infatuated with the cave that lurked before you.

Frank followed quietly as you swam in. You followed his plan exactly. As you slowly noticed you were submerging into darkness, you reached for your flashlight. That's exactly what Frank wants.

He takes place on a high wall of the cave, out of your view. He watched you hungrily as you swam further in. He prayed on you as you ventured into his trap.

You observed all the rock formations. This cave was oddly captivating. You look to your left, something that resembled a... cot? It was too murky in here to see. Next to that was a collection of....bones. Bones? No.. no it must be a pile of rocks or something.

You turn to swim back out. You were pretty deep in, you couldn't even see the entrance anymore. You had to get back to your group. They probably noticed you're missing by now. As you shine your flashlight to see the path, you freeze. Two yellow, glowing dots stared back at you. Dots that looked almost like... eyes. That's weird. You didn't notice any fish when you entered. You stupidly ignored the growing pit in your stomach that something was wrong. Dangerously wrong.

It moved closer before you could. And oh boy was it not a fish. The creature looked human-like, but oh so far from human. It looked large, probably from the huge fish-like tail that took half of its body. It had scales brimming out most of its body, mainly its tail. It swam menacingly towards you.

It's, well his, ravenous eyes darted across your body. Longing. Hungry. He wasted no time snatching the only thing that made you superior in this situation: your flashlight. He quickly mangled the device, shattering its only purpose of providing light in times of need. You felt panic stomping out any chance of getting out in a reasonable condition, if at all. Now being in total darkness, you tried to get away from him as best you could, which was hard considering he could be anywhere and you'd have no way of knowing.

Somehow, he spoke to you. His voice was stern and rough. "You're going to do as I say," He grabs your shoulders roughly, causing you to flinch. "Or you're losing your precious little life." He says as he taps on your oxygen tank.

"Well, not like you have a choice anyways." He adds on mockingly behind you. He grabs you harshly, pushing you face down into the ground. He made sure to beware of your equipment, not wanting to end the fun just yet.

Your mind was spiraling as your body failed to move from the position he shoved you in. You could barely register his sharp talons cutting through your swim suit until he accidentally, or maybe purposely, nicks your skin.

You shiver as he expertly works you out of your now tattered and ragged suit. You were now completely naked and vulnerable and oh so terrified. You tried to keep your breathing steady as to not waste oxygen, but damn was that hard considering you knew this man (or thing..) wasn't going to spare your life by the end of his sick fantasy he's reenacting with you.

His sharp talons ghosted over your neck, threatening, eager. He took advantage of your inferior state to slip in his cock. The thing didn't feel at all human, not that he was anything close to it. It was slimy and large and definitely wasn't made for tiny human bodies like your own. You try to scream, both out of the pain and panic setting into your bones. He didn't hesitate to grip your neck a bit harder, reminding you who could slice your throat at any moment, reminding you who was really in control here.

He starts thrusting into your tight, inexperienced hole. It burned more than anything, and if you made it out alive the scars would never leave you. It would haunt you forever, remaining you of this selfish and lustful creature and not one person will believe you.

"I can't believe you're letting me do this, you fucking slut." He growls out, one of his hands snaking its way to your hair, tugging on it harshly. Nonono... You weren't letting him do this. He was letting himself do this. He forced himself into your unwanting body. You could tell he was getting bored of your shaking, terrified body, and getting bored of thrusting into your little hole, despite how tight it was. He bent down, shoving his large teeth through the skin on your shoulder. You scream out in pain, he grips your neck softly, but doesn't try to shut you up this time. No no, your screams only made him more excited. He only pounds into you harder, the feeling of your delicious flesh upon his teeth was almost too much. Almost.

He bites down harder, this time ripping the flesh away from you. Screaming would be an understatement for what you were doing. You tried to move away, but the more you moved the more the pain spread. Your blood was the only thing he could smell at this point, and it was one of the only things you had to hold onto, now seeping away from your defenseless body. It wasn't long before he went in for another bite in the same area, this time biting down harder as your collarbone cracks satisfyingly beneath his teeth. He spit out the bits of bone that shot into his mouth before graciously sucking the blood that squirted out of your wounds. But now you wouldn't stop moving. Fear and adrenaline had consumed you and you just wouldn't stop.

He grabbed your neck harshly, his nails puncturing your neck as he did so. "Stop fuckin moving you useless little whore." He pounded into you as he spoke, though at this point you couldn't even feel it. Annoyance soon arose as you kept moving. Well he knew a quick fix to that. He snatched away your oxygen tube, not that you had much left anyways. You instantly inhaled some water, but you tried your best not to inhale any more. That was proven difficult when there was a siren aggressively fucking you into the ground while actively eating you alive. He takes another large bite, causing you to attempt to scream and thus flooding your lungs with more water.

The mixture of your own blood with water where it shouldn't be wasn't the best thing in the world, but there weren't too many good things that you were experiencing right now. As death seized a hold onto your precious little life, the last thing you would want to hear is the sounds of someone violating you while laughing at your pain and suffering. But what was just what you could hear as you painfully passed. You couldn't even feel his hand on your neck anymore, tearing out chunks of skin and admiring the sight. By the time he finished, you were quiet, still and oh so pretty. He admired the sight of your bloody and gorey lifeless body before pulling out. He may have to keep you for a bit longer just so he could fuck that sweet little hole of yours whenever he wants..

[versussystem2]

TM GAME TOURNAMENT MAGAZINE ANNOUNCEMENT 06 PART04

Announcement 01 Important Notice That Needed Attention I apologize ahead if you felt you got confused about the problems in my life. Like I wrote in Announcement 01, I don't have Feedback and Follower and I'm not pretending I have Feedback and Follower. But, I have been setting my goal on getting Feedback and Follower since 2016 when I made my first post on my tumblr.com page/blog. Right now is 2024. This mean it had been around 8 years of time. That is why I made that apology to avoid the confusion and complication. Optimism, pessimism, prophecy, oracle, seer, premonition, fortune teller, and thoughts in general about the future or foresight. To avoid the confusion, I would argues that I have no control on what a person want to think/thought. I'm going to keep it at that for now to not further the confusion and complication.

Setting Goal On Manageable Schedule Like I wrote in Announcement1-5 and this announcement. I want to set my goal on having a manageable schedule. Maybe it is human nature? Example: If people see that I'm desperate and panic enough, then maybe I might have some supports? Until I felt that I have enough supports to have a manageable schedule. I need something to hang on to.

Having goal as an animator. If I'm part of the Disney Studio or Creative Writing Association. Then, I could hang on to that. But, what if being an animator (Creative Writing in general) is the problems in my life? This mean I need to know a lot of people and have a lot of connections to the Creative Writing Association in order for me to hang on to it. This might not happen immediately. Such as it could take some time. Looking back at that scene with my father on wheelchair rolling down the street. What if the bump from the street curb made him fell out of his wheelchair? This mean he fell out of his wheelchair before the cars could run him over. The impact from falling out of his wheelchair could caused enough injuries that killed him. What if adding a kick on the wheelchair to have enough momentum to go over the street curb into to the street? This way the impact from the cars would kill him for sure. I didn't kicked his wheelchair. Instead I took out a lighter and light his cigarette. He told me he will pay me 2 dollars to buy the lighter from me. So, I sold him my lighter. During one of my fundraisings, I sold lighters and cigarettes. It was just a sample test run unofficial fundraising. So, It didn't last long and I only made a few sells at most. So, I still have the packs of lighters remain from the fundraising. The following is how I sold the lighters: The regular lighter are 1 dollar each. The fancy lighter are 3-5 dollar each. In a way, he pay 1 extra dollar for that lighter. Afterward, he continue buying lighters from me.

I'm going to point out another scene on my father to make a point. Back then, in the early years, my father would often made claims that he will threaten to beat up his math instructor(s) if those math instructors gave him a math test score lower than 100%. He would continue by claiming that the reasons he started making these claims is because there was 1 math instructor gave him a 95% math test score. After he have threaten that math instructor, his math test score is changed from 95% to 100%. There are giggles/chuckles from people when those people heard those claims from my father. The following reasons could be why there are giggles/chuckles from the people in the crowd: 1. From tradition, math instructors are often hard on students. It is contradiction, for students to be hard on the math instructors. 2. Math is calculation process, planning, and long equation. It is contradiction, math is outburst and threats of violence. As for my father, the following are why I think he made that claim: His seriousness on making his claim. And, the important combination in his claim: Speaking up to protect your acclaims. High achievement test score competition. And, making speech to win the crowd's votes. Even though, his claim have both the seriousness and important combination. But, because he have made that claim so often. That is why there are the giggles/chuckles. The reason I pointed out that scene is hearing his claim, I should able to tell it is a warning or wake up call. Furthermore, I keep telling myself, some where along the way, I must have warnings/wake-up-calls to not compete in the weekly TM Game tournament. But, I didn't pay too much attention to those warnings/wake-up-calls, because of busy competing in the weekly TM Game tournaments. The following are the reasons why I want to deny those warnings/wake-up-calls:

TM Game Tournament Commitment: Because of my responsibilities, duties, commitments, obligations, and pressures to the weekly TM Game tournaments. I would argues I would deny those warnings/wake-up-calls of wanting me to not compete in the weekly TM Game tournament. No Feedback And No Follower: Because the no feedback and no follower is confusing and complicated. This mean the warnings/wake-up-calls could be argued as the following: Feedbacks, followers, and pressures. So, the argument is if I have warnings/wake-up-calls, then my situation won't be so confusing and complicated. Example: For argument sake, let says those people who making arguments against the TM Game tournament would only criticized it. So, those people not going to says we warn him before to not compete in weekly TM Game tournament and he still continue to compete in the weekly TM Game tournaments. 199 First Places: I have 199 First Places in the TM Game tournaments in San Diego, California. And, I have no Feedback and Follower is confusing and complicated. So, I think the confusion and complication is the warning/wake-up-call is I must have thought writing the Arowra Series Books is the solution to the problems in my life.

Management Animator Theory In the bookstore self-help books section/isle, I saw there was a self-help book titled "If Life Is A Game, These are the Rules" Also, it is a best seller book. In a way, I sees that TM Game tournament and math competition is also like a game. So, what if I used the following achievements I have in my life to look for a solution to the problems in my life: Highest Math Achievement Title: From 1995-2003, because I have been having the most math awards in the math subject and having the highest math placement classes each years, I have been awarded the Highest Math Achievement Title from 1995-2003. Regional Championship Title Holder: Because I have the most First Places (199 First Places) in the San Diego TM Game tournaments. So, in a scenario my 199 First Places is equivalent to I'm compete in a TM Game tournament for the Regional Championship Title, then having the most first places would make me as the Regional Championship Title Holder. I want to combined those 2 titles listed above with my goal to be an animator to find the solution to the problems in my life. So, I came up with a theory, "Management Animator Theory". Management Animator Theory: In the beginning, I must have sees that a person who get 100% math test score regularly. And, a highly skillful chess player. Is good at finding solution to the problems in their life. As time go by, I started to grow wary on these thoughts. These wary thoughts could become doubt(s). That is why I used my father as reference. Because he get 100% math test score regularly. And, a skillful chess player. At the same time, I vibed that if I bring up my father's name, then it could lead to the following argument: The argument is I haven't tasted bitterness that is why I miss my home and my parents. This argument led me to visiting my parents and spend some time with them. Yet, I could picture myself arguing back that I visited my father is because I need answers to the "Management Animator Theory". As I visited my father, I told him that he have solve a lot of chess game puzzles in the Newspapers. He could turn them in to collect the prizes published in those Newspapers. Basically, I'm saying all of that as a compliment that he is a skillful chess player. He asked if I have time to play a chess game with him. I answered his opening moves are faster than mine by 1-2 moves. He replied we haven't even played the chess game how did I know. I think this where the misunderstanding and/or confusion started. Read the "Chess And Chinese Chess" Section below to know why I brought up the chess topic in my parents' house. In that section, I have set my goal to clear the confusion and complication. In summary, I made compliments on my father's 100% math test scores and chess skill. Is because I don't want my wary thoughts to grow more wary. I will continue asking for supports. At the same time, I will continue to deny about did I have warnings/wake-up-calls to not compete in the weekly TM Game tournaments? Example: I think that there are people who think that there are celebration about the TM Game tournament.

Chess And Chinese Chess On 2002, in Ms. Wilsons' honor math (Honor Algebra 2) class, Ms. Wilsons gave me extra credits to teaches chess in her class for about 2 weeks of time. Like I wrote in my article, "My TM Game History" and "Arowra: Spiral of Conspiracies Story" strategy guide. It was more than just the extra credits. There are the following combination of reasons: I'm holding the record for having the most First Places in the TM Game tournament in my neighborhood, Pacific Beach. On 2002 I have around 66 First Places. I'm leading the players in the TM Game tournament. Also, I'm providing TM Game tournament enthusiasm to my surrounding. In summary, I didn't join or compete in the chess tournament like I have been competing in the weekly TM Game tournament. But, I have enough knowledge about chess to teach it in a classroom for about 2 weeks of time. Furthermore, because of that 2 weeks of teaching chess lessons in Ms. Wilsons' class, I was planning to make room in my schedule to make a project to make the distinction of "Chess" and "Chinese Chess". As a way of providing TM Game tournament enthusiasm. But, I recalled back in the country-side during my early years, the people in the country-side have been saying that my father, Chung-Wun Lam is a skillful and undefeated Chinese Chess player. The way I see it, my project would be like a joke to my father. Example: The project focus on making distinction between Chess and Chinese Chess by making sure that it is at a beginner level. My father's Chinese Chess skill could be at a very high level. The following are the reasons why I wanted to create this project: Because I have enough knowledge about chess to teach it in a classroom. But, as for Chinese Chess. I wanted to point out the following: 1. The "Canon" game piece is different than the Chess' game pieces. 2. In a Chinese Chess's board, there is a river. And, the pieces move on the lines instead of squares. 3. Elephant pieces can't cross the river. 4. Your Royal Guard pieces can't leave your palace. Vice-versa, your opponent's Royal Guard pieces can't leave your opponent's palace. At the same time, I vibed that there are many books published on the Chinese Chess lessons. This mean if it is hard for me to just point out a few things about the Chinese Chess, then it would be harder for me to talk about the strategy of the game. In summary, I wanted to go to my family's house and gave some compliments to my father's Chinese Chess' skill. On around 2012, when I visited my family's house. Chung shown me the Chinese Chess' puzzles that he have solved in the Newspapers. What if people confused Chess and Chinese Chess as the same game, because there is the word, chess in both of the games? I didn't told him the following: You have to have very high Chinese Chess skill to understand those Chinese Chess puzzles published in the Newspaper. To not continue with the confusion, I used this opportunity to gives him some compliments about his Chinese Chess skill. I must have unintended added the following lines without noticed: Maybe you could show me a few of your moves? Showing me a Chinese Chess demonstration is better than showing me those Chinese Chess puzzles. Toward the end, like I wrote in the "Setting Goal To Have A Manageable Schedule" section, he asked me if I want to play a Chinese Chess game with him. So, I replied that you have faster opening move than me by 1-2 moves. By this point, I think the confusion is Chess and Chinese Chess have meshed together and it is the same game. On that day, I wanted to point out the following: If it is Chess not Chinese Chess. Then, I might have a chance of competition. Example: In a Chess game, if the odds is against me. Then, I will go with the fortified defensive tactics/strategy. This strategy is protect every pieces I have on the board. And, I would strategically move those pieces around to to create walls and castle. In a way, like a 360% protection from every angles.

Obligations And Pressures In the "Announcement 01 Important Notice That Needed Attention", I wrote that "To avoid the confusion, I would argues that I have no control on what a person want to think/thought." On 1999, when me and my older brother, Ho Hong Lam walked passed "Name of the Game" store. I told him that I'm going to prepare myself by training hard to compete in the weekly Pokemon Tournament (Pokemon Tournament is TM Game Tournament). I would wins some first places and make a name of myself. What if that day I walk passed "Name of the Game" store without saying anything? What will my life be like? Right now, I have the record on having 199 First Places in the TM Game tournaments in San Diego, California. The accumulation of the 199 first places is from my first tournament in 1999 to my last tournament in 2014. Group1 wishes since the day they were born they got punished and disciplined so much that they welcome problems and arguments in their lifes. Group2 since the day they were born they been putting pressures on people's lifes. The line from the Hunger Games, "May the odds ever be in your favor." Using that line, maybe if the odds are in their favor, they won't put as much pressures on people's lifes. Also, if the odds are in their favor, maybe they don't have to deal with conscience on putting pressures on people's lifes argument. I'm not purposely trying to crush anyone dream, but having regrets or making wishes to be those 2 groups not going to solve the problems in my life.

I spend about 1-2 hours lining up for the beginning of the TM Game tournament sign-up process.

I filled out the TM Game tournament application sheet and paid the $5 entry fee.

I spend a lot of money buying the figurines game pieces and cards game pieces. Because in the card base TM Game you would constructed a deck of 40-60 cards. And, figurine base TM Game you would constructed a team of 1-10 (or more than 10) figures.

When the tournament begin. The computer pairing system will assign you to your matches (before there were computer system, the tournament coordinator(s) would assigned the players to their matches.) After your matches are assigned, you would compete through each rounds until you get to the final round. In the final round, the 2 finalists will compete for the First Place placement.

Tournament Setup Example: About 90% of the TM Game tournaments I have participated in are elimination tournament. Elimination mean you lost 1 round you are eliminated from advancing to the final round. In each rounds, you compete 3 matches against your opponent. If you wins 2 or more matches against your opponent mean you wins that round. Vice-versa, If your opponent wins 2 or more matches against you mean your opponent wins that round. Today, December 28, 2024, as I'm drafting what to write next in this announcement. My status-quo like I wrote in "Announcement 01 Important Notice That Needed Attention", I have no Feedback and no Follower. I'm obligated and pressured by my 199 First Places to have some responsibilities and duties about the TM Game Tournament. But, the No Feedback and No Follower is making my situation confusing and complicated. I want my obligations and pressures to be important. Not confusing and complicated.

This mean to not point out that my 199 First Places is not a celebration. I have to says that I'm having problems in my life that needed some attention. Because I'm not doing too well in my situation right now would argued as the following: The TM Game Tournament Advertisement Argument is TM Game tournament advertised as compete to win victories/achievements, fame, and celebrations in your life. When a player competed through the rounds of the TM Game tournament and got the first place placement. And, there is no fame or celebration. Mean that there are some problems with the TM Game tournament advertisement/commercial. The TM Game Tournament Advertisement Argument would lead to I have spend so much time and money to compete in the TM Game tournament and it have created problems in my life. The Lack of TM Game Tournament Management argument would lead to I went thought #1-4 to have some pressures in my life.

Furthermore, the House of Creating Pressures argument is if my house is the house of creating pressures to people's lifes. Then, my house would created enough pressures in my life. This mean I don't need to go through #1-4 to have some pressures in my life. In #1-4 Versus House of Creating Pressures, this versus would lead to the following: It is my stupidity to not sees that I don't need to go through #1-4 for so many years of time to have some pressures in my life. How could a stupid person be a tournament champion?

In the embarrassment for no feedback and no follower Versus Want to clear the stupidity in my life, I would argues that I want to clear the stupidity in my life out weight the embarrassment for no feedback and no follower. It is hard for a person to says that count my blessing that if I disciplined myself enough, I could maybe be in Group1 and able to welcome the problems and arguments in my life. Why can't I says it is okay you don't create too much pressures in my life?

Like I wrote in the announcements such as Announcement1-6, please don't make my situation like it is "Last Resort". In addition, the confusion and complication is because I have 199 First Places mean I have been put in Group2. Group2 is people who puts pressures on other people's lifes. This is equivalent to everything I do is putting pressures on people's lifes. So, I want to avoid the "Last Resort". And, the confusion and complication on everything I do is putting pressures on people's lifes. At the same time, I want to have hopeful thoughts that the feedback and follower is I could continue making my posts at tumblr.com. One day, I would be recognized.

Looking at my situation, people would question about the TM Game tournament advertisement/commercial. This mean since all my posts is involved or related to the TM Game tournament mean people would question my posts also. The following is the example: Is my 199 First Places a local league? How big can the TM Game tournament event get? How official and real can it be? On around 2018, inside the Mesa College bookstore, the co-workers asked me questions like in casual talk. At the time, I would want to have mutual with my surrounding because I'm posting up articles at tumblr.com regularly. So, I would write the following on a piece of paper: "Parallel lines don't touch." "Obligations and pressures." After awhile, I would replied, "It is so hard to believe."

Then, I asked the questions back at the co-workers. "What do you think about the Duelist Kingdom island in the Yu-Gi-Oh TV Series? Can that be real to anyone? I mean come on, a whole island as a dueling ground for players?" The following are the answers: "It is possible. Depended on the management." "A rich investor who want to make that kind of investment." Eventually, I told those co-workers about some of the posts I have posted up on tumblr.com. Both of those co-workers I told it to didn't think I was strange or anything.

I apologizes for the spacing between each sections (Bold Headlines). For some reasons in this post I'm having that problem. The following are the 4 sections (Bold Headlines) in this post: Announcement 01 Important Notice That Needed Attention Setting Goal On Manageable Schedule Chess And Chinese Chess Obligations And Pressures

To Be Continue Like I wrote in Announcement 1-5 in my current situation, I felt like I'm being rushed all over the places. Also, like I wrote in Announcement 1-5 I want to gives myself a chance to stop rushing myself. I will continue writing more announcement. Check back for more announcement.

[siodium]

GUESS WHO PASSED THEIR TP TEST TODAY???

i'm thrilled to report that i've just passed my first attempt with 18 points!!! barely made it but a win's a win, right?? i can now apply for a class 3A driver's license and be an absolute menace on the roads yey~ ✌︎（＾ ＾✌︎

it's also the eve of christmas eve today, so merry christmas to me~ ✩

timeline and stats:

passed BTT on 15/02/2024

started practical lessons on 02/07/2024 and went twice a week for about 2 months

passed FTT on 16/10/2024 (took 2 tries for FTE)

total practical sessions: 24 (including 5 revisions)

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

i took a session 5 test slot (10:45 am to 12:15 pm). even though the weather forecast said there'd be thundery showers today, i was blessed with clear and sunny skies. it was possibly the most ideal weather to be taking a driving test in.

you wanna know what's freaky though?? the moment i completed my test, it started to drizzle. and it rained throughout the rest of the day?? it felt like the clouds held back for my sake HAHAH. thank you, weather gods. 🙏

my warm-up went super smoothly. i did everything in the circuit so impeccably well that it even surprised me?? my instructor also gave me some last-minute tips for the road component of the test, so i felt pretty relaxed and confident at that point.

this calmness, however, got yeeted off somewhere when the actual test begun at 11:30 am. i could feel the nervousness creeping up on me slowly as i progressed through the test.

ended up raking in quite a bit of points in the circuit for dumb and careless mistakes. on the bright side, i didn't get any immediate failures. i also managed to do corrections for an early turn in directional change (?? never had this issue before), and whatever the heck happened in parallel parking (was so busy checking blind spots that i missed the second sighting point by a ridiculously wide margin?? didn't get points for that bc i parked within the time limit bUT I DID GO "OH SHIT" IN FRONT OF THE TESTER oops).

the entire test took about 30 mins and i was told to wait at the waiting area for my results. for some reason, nobody else was there?? so, i was left alone to stew in my own thoughts. i did consider the possibility that my test was terminated early and i might've failed.

didn't rly have time to go through all five stages of grief before i was called into the tester's room, where my tester proceeded to go through all my mistakes. when i heard him say "you need to brush up on—", i was cERTAIN that i had flunked. it basically implied "try again next time"???

bUT THEN HE TOLD ME I PASSED??? huhhhh (⚆ᗝ⚆) !!

the next few moments went by in a blur bc i was still trying to process reality. i filled up a survey form, cancelled all my remaining practical sessions, closed my bbdc account, and checked my address so they could mail me my driver's license when it was ready.

and that was it. my year-long (almost) journey at bbdc has now concluded, and i had officially graduated from being an L-plater.

i'm so happy to be freed from after-work driving lessons!! they rly took up quite a lot of my time and energy this whole year. my bank account has also been saved from further debilitating financial damages. ngl i was stressiNG over the possibility of having to spend another $380 to retake the test if i had failed.

what an amazing way to end the year~ ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

obligatory list of mistakes:

forgetting to signal - forgot to signal left when i was navigating along the chevron markings after returning to bbdc.

turned into the wrong lane - got bamboozled by dOUBLE roadworks when i was doing a right turn at a controlled T-junction??? i could hear the kahoot music playing the moment i started doing the turn, except instead of 4 options, i've only got 2. it was a 50-50 chance and i got it wrong (red arrow was what i did, and green was the correct path). 🤡

doing a reverse maneuver while doing directional change - i turned too early and felt like my left wheels were going to strike the kerb so i quickly moved forward and adjusted my position.

going too slow outside the school - it's fine to go slow in the circuit, but i've got to match the speed of the traffic flow outside. i was doing 35~45 kmph on a 70 kmph road LOL.

incorrect blind spot checking

abrupt lane change

braked suddenly - this one was my bad bc while entering the s-course, i accidentally stepped on the accelerator hard, thinking it was my brake pedal, and the car surged forward. luckily i reacted in time and jam braked to avoid hitting or going over the kerb. costed me penalty points but anything is better than an immediate failure.

not giving way to car on major road in the circuit - in my defense, that car looked like it wasn't going to move?? so i moved out?? aND THEN THIS GUY DECIDED TO SPEED UP SO HE WAS CLOSE BEHIND ME??

(in case anyone is mathing it, some of my mistakes didn't count into the final point tally bc i got one-time free passes.)

[blindrapture]

july 28.

the end of San Francisco, a rapture log play in five acts.

july 24th, act 1, was 3,000 words. july 25th, act 2, was 2,500 words. july 26th, act 3, was 8,800 words. july 27th, act 4, was 6,100 words. july 28th, act 5, was 4,700 words.

the total is 25,100 words. for one serial in the greater story's act 2. this was over a third of the length of act 1 as a whole. and also like half of a nanowrimo? but I wrote San Francisco over the course of... about a week, back in late April or early May. I'm still not ready to tell you the word count for act 2 as a whole.

they're big numbers, these word counts. but now that you've actually read some Long Logs, you might have an idea of why I don't want to give the big numbers until you're done! these logs are actually pretty damn engaging! to know ahead of time how long it is would be discouragement, or even a real risk of discouragement. and I want readers. :( (plus, how do you think I feel? having to write the damn stuff! when I saw the total word count for act 2, that actually just made it way harder to start act 3. I gotta keep reminding myself that short logs are okay!)

...so.

so San Francisco.

if you were to go back and read the earlier drafts of this serial, the difference is stark. a couple of elements are the same: Jordan and Donnie have a disagreement, they're staying with these RAF folks (with the same names), on day 4 they burn down the Golden Gate Bridge as things go bad, and on day 5 the Judge takes the city. but the old serial was.... oh my god so empty. so short.

there's a reason for this. I mean, yes, I wrote it when I was 16 years old, but I had already demonstrated I was interested in challenging myself, taking the time to make plots more elaborate. but the problem was this was November 2011, and I was going through hell. I had run away from home, given a plane ticket to go back to America, was staying in a house where I wasn't really.. wanted! had gotten myself back into high school, entirely of my own accord. was sleeping in the damn living room for months in a house of 10 residents, with my brother as landlord. my brother may have been able to stick up for me more, but he had jobs keeping him out of the house. so I had to deal with the catty underhanded group dynamics myself, when I was home from school; I had no bedroom to retreat to. even though this literally was the house I had grown up in, now deteriorating with garbage and poor upkeep by all these residents. and anyway, then, in November, one last resident had a beef with me. it wasn't because of anything I had done. it was just vibes. he was like that. and he had guns, and he had crude sensibilities, and he liked to think of himself as a drill instructor, and.

god I really hated that guy. >_< he was the basis for the Cody character. though Cody is much less of an asshole. the real guy wouldn't have ever given me a chance to explain myself, wouldn't have disarmed himself, wouldn't have stopped until I was gone. because he didn't! I left. I went home. not immediately, and not directly because of him, but. it was bad news after bad news, okay, and all things being equal I might have been able to face it all, staying in America was what I was made for... but I was already damaged goods. I didn't have it in me anymore.

and. yeah. I also didn't have it in me to give rapture the treatment it deserved.

so. fast forward to 2024, and I'm already rewriting act 2, and I get to San Francisco and feel this immense... shame inside me. I did not like to revisit that serial, because of the time of my life that it represented, and when I did revisit it there was nothing fucking there. so I knew I had to rewrite it better. apparently I took that real seriously. I think San Francisco is one of the best parts of the story now and can only hope I can match it later on.

but, like. one of the things I did in rewriting San Francisco was fictionalize the Cody character more. by fleshing him out, basing him off of more influences (such as Alex Kralie!), giving him more time to speak and show his own nuances, I was able to... if not "put some closure on the past," then at least disentangle some memories and separate the past from this story of mine that means... so much...

yeah. writing the new San Fran was therapeutic. and it produced a really cool piece of fiction. a tale of humanity, another look at our gods. another chance for EAT to speak.

yeah.

///////////////////

music pieces referenced in log 5, "Synecdoche."

first is "Music for the Funeral of Queen Mary," by Henry Purcell. the actual original piece is somewhat obscure, but depending on what media you grew up with, as soon as you hear the horns come in you'll know exactly how it goes.

what a fucking piece. brilliant chord progressions. gives me chills.

as Jordan mentioned in the log, he had heard the song through much more modern contexts.

Kubrick nuts, and also all you trans girls out there, will be much more familiar with Wendy Carlos's rendition of the piece, as used in the opening to A Clockwork Orange.

but then I, me, DJay and Jordan, I did not grow up with this. (I didn't watch A Clockwork Orange until I was about 14 or 15, and I really wasn't much of a film appreciator then. the film bored me, except when it wigged me out.)

I grew up with Conker's Bad Fur Day.

honestly, if you haven't ever seen this game, I've gotta recommend it. seeing it. not really playing it. it is the one and only Rare game I grew up with, and was probably the N64 game that my brothers and I played the most. I was watching this game when I was 9 years old. (I have since gone on to beat it myself. it's a journey, for sure! but brutally hard at random times.)

it's actually almost definitely a big influence on me. when I stop and think, "hey, actually, Conker was a long unbroken journey filled with pastiches taken weirdly seriously, featuring a guy who's too tired to really object to the ridiculousness around him," I.. yeah, that definitely had a hand in shaping me as a storyteller. plus, "Nintendo with adult themes" means everything to me. "a game that should not exist" means everything to me. and frankly it is a way more clever video game than it had any right to be.

but. anyway. Conker begins with a pastiche of the opening to A Clockwork Orange. and I will have seen that cutscene a thousand times-- and yet I never got tired of it. the song especially makes it so rewatchable. such class. god, what a song.

.....right, anyway.

the other song referenced in the log is:

the thing is, there is no way Jordan would have known the name of this piece, nor the name of the person who wrote it. by all accounts, he would have just been like "oh yeah, it's That song." and I would have written it that way, but.

there's just no way to fucking casually refer to this song using words. there are, I mean, there are ways to, but those ways would also refer to many other pieces of classical music.

so I took some artistic license. hell, maybe the Legstep first played an audio file of some deep-voice man saying "Good morning. We'll start off this beautiful morning with a classic. This is Edvard Grieg, Morgenstimmung." and so maybe Jordan's words are a shortening of that. that's plausible.

but the point was, Jordan woke up in this gorgeous natural rabbit hole hearing one very specific song. you know the song. I promise you, you do, with 100% certainty.

yeah, you know the one.

I dunno, I thought this was somewhat funny.

it's also a dividing line. before this point, we were still in the San Francisco serial, albeit in a sort of coda to it. after sleeping, we're waking up to some new plotline. a new A-plot.

and that A-plot begins with this song.

/////////////

if you're wondering what "synecdoche" is, or "sin-ECK-duh-key," you can google it. or I guess I could just tell you.

it's a specific rhetorical device, one you'll also be familiar with, if not the word for it. it's the use of a Piece in substitution for the Whole. or vice versa, the use of a Whole in substitution for a Piece!

the example I usually know it by is, like. newspaper articles saying "the White House responded to the news..." where "the White House" is used as a Whole, substituting for the Piece (the White House's press response team!). or "Hollywood won't like that..." using "Hollywood" to refer to some specific people within Hollywood.

that's synecdoche! it's rhetoric. it's used in journalism and poetry alike.

this log is titled synecdoche for... some reasons. admittedly I don't entirely remember them all. but the obvious one is the court of the Judge, where he makes his sentence by synecdoche, assigning the same sentence to the individual as to the whole city. it's not fair for making sentences. but the Judge probably isn't all that fair, is he?

alright. see you tomorrow. :)