#they could have started with less divisive subjects

[hiiragi7]

(Warning for discussion of abuse)

There is a certain ableist and classist feel to the way that a lot of people talk about highschool education and graduation that I've noticed. "I bet they never graduated highschool" is often used as an insult and to imply stupidity, for example. I've noticed this trend for a long time, but struggled to put it into words.

While education is important, I often feel very put down by the amount of emphasis placed on being a highschool graduate (and, on the opposite end, the disdain for non-graduates). I never graduated, due to a variety of factors; I suffered very extreme abuse starting in first grade from the school environment (As a diagnosed autistic kid growing up in SPED in the 2000s, ABA was the standard), I was being abused at home, I moved schools a lot, I struggle with several disabilities which impacted my ability to learn and developmentally I was never really at the same level as my peers besides in English and art, I developed chronic physical issues while I was still in school due to a genetic condition, and finally, I was kicked out of the house when I was 17 by my parents and I just never ended up going back to school (not that I could have graduated anyway due to a variety of issues).

I was never able to learn quite right and that lead to me falling further and further behind. By the time I was in middle school, I was already so far behind my peers that even if my teachers had wanted to help me learn the content, there was so much they would have had to teach me that it would have been impossible for them to fit it into the time I had with them, especially when they had a lot of other students to attend to besides me. On top of that, I had already given up on my own education sometime during elementary school, so any attempts that were made by my teachers were not well-received by me. I had already developed a complex web of trauma responses to anything to do with school by that point.

It seemed that I was caught in an impossible situation where between the trauma I suffered with and my autism, I could not tolerate even being in a classroom setting, much less learn in it, but there were no other options, which lead to chronic activation of trauma responses which overwhelmed both me and my teachers as well as everyone else in my life. There was also no understanding for me in these settings either, and nobody informed enough to realize what was going on with me and why I was constantly either shutting down and unresponsive or having severe panic attacks. Rather, I was called lazy, manipulative, not trying hard enough, making excuses, acting out for attention, and a slew of other insults as well as near-constant punishments which only served to traumatize me further.

To this day, I only have a second grade education in math. I do not know multiplication, division, algebra, physics, chemistry, and a variety of other subjects. Attempting to study school subjects gives me flashbacks no matter which method I use, whether it's online or with another person or on my own. I am gifted in English, but otherwise I do not know many of the things that people are generally taught in school as kids.

When I tell people I never graduated, often the response is "it's okay, you can still get your GED!" as if me not having graduated is a character flaw that I must eventually work to fix. It makes me feel as though my worth and value as a person is tied to whether or not I have at least a highschool education, and that without it I am less worthy of people's time.

Going back to my initial point, if not graduating highschool makes you "stupid", you must also consider who in practice is unable to graduate highschool - I find it is often disabled kids, traumatized kids, and impoverished kids. Not all of them, I'm sure, but definitely a lot of them.

Tying intellect and a person's worth to whether or not they graduated highschool fucks over those who couldn't through no real fault of their own and frames them as lesser for it. How can you say you believe in disability rights when you shit on those who are too disabled to complete school? How can you say you are against classism when you view people who could not graduate due to having to work full-time as lesser than you?

I feel that regardless of how much people insist they are an advocate (or how much they say "No no, when I said people who don't graduate are stupid I didn't mean those people, I only meant what I see as the acceptable group of non-graduates to call stupid"), there are biases at play regarding perceived intellect and formal education. I am viewed as inherently less-than when people learn I did not graduate. My lack of a highschool graduation certificate or "at least" a GED is viewed with pity by just about everyone I talk to.

I don't have a neat way to wrap up this post, but I do think it is important for people to examine their own biases when it comes to discussing formal education, as well as the overlap of non-graduates and marginalized groups, especially as it pertains to disability politics and capitalism.

[teecupangel]

I've been checking this game called Shipwrecked 64 and there's this section in the game where you use something like the Eagle Vision and you could use it for the rest of the game in some areas, I wanna see your thoughts on this because the entire time I was thinking of AC

You know what would be fun, nonny?

If we set up the core setting of Shipwrecked 64 to a game that Abstergo developed and released for a limited time.

It was meant to be the Entertainment Division’s first game using a prototype VR system that would later be developed as the Animus gaming console (that’s what they tell the public but it’s not true. The VR system was created using the Animus as the base but they later scrapped it and just modified the Animus).

But the game itself was in development hell for so long, only later having a limited release after the Animus’ first game (Liberation) proved to be successful. It came with a 10% discount voucher that the players can use when preordering Abstergo Entertainment’s next game “Pirates of Nightmare”.

Of course, because this is Abstergo and they’re scummy, the voucher is only available for PREORDER and will expire the moment the game is released.

The game wasn’t even given a digital release with Abstergo going for the physical copy first then just… never bothering to do a digital release because they were betting that Pirates of Nightmares would be so successful no one would remember that weird short 2D platformer that Abstergo released between two major games.

And it sorta worked.

The game wasn’t even played all that much. It was cheaper because it was short and the controls were clunky as it was created for the prototype. Abstergo only did the bare minimum to port it to the latest Animus gaming console and players can’t even access it IF they have one of the newer models (specifically the models released for “Triumph of the Borgias” onward) because it’s not backwards compatible.

Then… a Game Preservation group called “Shipwrecked 17 Recovery Crew” released an emulator that can play it even for the latest model of the Animus gaming console. They released it for free with the emulator saying “if you enjoy this game, please consider donating to the [a link that takes people to one of the site that archives all video games with a list of video games that have not been archived or preserved yet]”. There’s no request for monetization at all so Abstergo isn’t exactly keen on trying to take it down less they suffer a backlash from players who would say “you’re not even rereleasing it so why are you taking down a passion project from fans???”

The emulator also notes that it fixed some of the codes so there should be less bugs and would provide a more ‘complete’ experience.

The setting of the game is quite simple. The player plays as Shipmate 0, the captain of the Ship (no name was given so fans call it ‘ship’). The Ship suffered terrible damage during a severe storm on the sea and Shipmate 0 wakes up in an island and the goal of the player is to find all ‘16’ shipmates that are stranded in the island (with each having their own minigame, of course).

The normal ending would be getting all ‘16’ shipmates safely in a newly repaired Ship.

Most players assumed that it’s called Shipwrecked 17 because Shipmate 0 is counted as one of the shipmates so, in total, there are 17 shipmates.

Then… some starts looking at the code.

And they post the comments on a function called Golden_Ending().

// Unlock Subject 17. // Requirement: kill all 16 Subjects.

They believe the ‘Subject’ are the shipmates and the morbid requirement fascinated some players. Other players do not that “kill” has a different meaning in codes so maybe it’s not actually killing the shipmates ingame.

Then one player realized that they can kill Shipmates using specific methods during the minigame portion. This player unintentionally found this out while he was doing the tag minigame with Shipmate 4 (the duck). The game had been simply chasing Shipmate 4 until he takes a short rest and reaching him during that short rest. BUT if a player was to use their left hand while chasing Shipmate 4 (not during short rest) and the distance is an arm’s length or shorter, the game glitches for a moment and Shipmate 0 actually tackles Shipmate 4, staying oon top of Shipmate 4 as he slumps down.

After that, a short audio of an older sounding man and a woman are played by the screen glitches to show Shipmate 4’s profile window (where it says the actual name of Shipmate 4 is Daniel the Duck) talking about how unstable ‘Daniel’ was becoming and prolonged sessions on the Animus only had minimal effect on helping him stabilize his mind.

The glitch ends with the profile showing a different profile for a fraction of a second and it was only after a few more people tried the method and recorded their playthrough so they can take a screenshot of it later on that the players found out the second profile was the ‘session’ records of a Daniel Cross, complete with dates and summary of each session.

And now, Abstergo is trying to get everyone to stop playing, saying that the game has been tampered with or that someone modified it to include such morbid things, it was meant to be a kids’ game!

People barely cared. The mystery and the ‘horror’ were more interesting than the whole “help these animal-ish creatures get off the island”. Streamers started playing it, trying to find ways to kill the other Shipmates…

They learn new things along the way…

Like how Shipmate 15 is actually pregnant and the way to kill her is… well… morbid. Shipmate 16 can only be killed by chasing him into a specific trap that will cut him to pieces.

Every time they manage to kill a Shipmate, they are transferred to an empty bar with the walls slowly being filled with the pictures of the ‘Subjects’ that appear after killing the Shipmate, including Daniel the Duck, Robert the Rabbit, Clay the Cuckoo, etc…

Then when all 16 Shipmates are killed, they return to the bar once more but it’s now burning and there’s a Dog ‘Shipmate’ in front of them.

The final Shipmate.

The key to the Golden Ending.

[eu-nicola]

Jude Bellingham x barca femi player enemies to loversss !!! Omfg the potential ! Angry fans and a surprise pregnancy to the mix. Also was the single mom anon. Your writing was very good and your english was perfect !! Lots of love and well wishes 💜💜

Jude Bellingham x Reader

sorry english isn’t my first language

I didn't correct it so I apologize for the mistakes

I don't know if it was what you wanted but I liked it

enjoy it

They had taught you to hate Real Madrid since you knew it and it was always like that and it was always going to be like that, the rivalry you had with each person from that club was bigger than anything.

You had even fight with your friends over that, so it was a subject they didn’t talk about and even less when you started playing for Barça.

It was your dream come true to have played since you were little for the club you always loved and now the fact of being able to play in the first division was coming true, and actually after this it was two years since you came up and it really was the best two years of your life without any single injury or even serious pain, you were at the top until what happened and after what seemed like a long and heavy season for you were injured, full of setbacks, although the good side of this is that vacations were coming up where you planned to recover one hundred percent to start as best you should.

You and your family had decided to travel to England for your recovery and private training which was approved by your club so you were more than happy to travel. The first weeks they made sure that you did not do anything that could harm you and you were with practically all the doctors at your disposal as your family wanted and after a thousand things to do, you could finally start training.

Your own coach gave you the idea that it would be a good idea for you to go out one night to clear your head without having to go to a club, but you had no better idea than to go to one because you wanted to know what the clubs were like in England, especially in Birmingham, so You asked your older brother to accompany you and obviously he was not going to say no to an outing.

They had told you about a good club, in fact the best club they told you, but you certainly didn't remember the name and you didn't really care, you just wanted to go out and see what you would find. When you arrived it didn't seem like a big deal but as the night went on you changed your mind, the atmosphere had become different and the people seemed more fun and you even saw a few players from the English team but nothing special.

When you began to feel a little dizzy, you decided to go to the bathroom under the gaze of your brother from afar all the time in case something happened to you, while you were walking to the bathroom you did not notice that a boy was walking just as fast as you with whom you collided and As soon as you saw him, you realized who Jude Bellingham was, the new Real player, he tried to stop you and apologize but you ignored him and continued on your way, after a while you thought you had lost him but not really, the idiot had waited outside the bathroom.

"I was just apologizing, it wasn't a big deal." He told you as soon as you came out of the bathroom. "If you knew that it is a psychopath to wait for a woman outside the bathroom in a club."

"Are you always like this?" "As well as?".

"A bitch with people." He surprised you that he called you that and even he seemed to you the most unpleasant man at that moment and many would believe that you would be exaggerating but not for you. “Yes, when they are Madridistas rats”. You responded by trying to leave.

"And who are you to call me that?" You were angry at that point but you didn't care about someone you didn't plan to see again.

When you got back to your brother you didn't feel like staying there anymore so you told him it was time to go and he agreed after a boring night at his house with no woman to bring home. After that night you had to get up early and continue with your training, you didn't have time to check your cell phone and even less see what was being talked about, when you finally finished you could finally see that someone on twitter was talking about the discussion you had with Jude.

Your own coach gave you the idea that it would be a good idea for you to go out one night to clear your head without having to go to a club, but you couldn’t think of a better idea than to go to one because you wanted to know what the clubs were like in England, especially . in Birmingham, so you asked your older brother to come with you and he obviously wasn’t going to say no to a date.

They had told you about a good club, in fact the best club they told you, but you probably didn’t remember the name and didn’t really care, you just wanted to go out and see what you could find. When you arrived it didn’t look like much but as the night went on you changed your mind, the atmosphere had become different and the people seemed more fun and you even saw some players from the English team but nothing special.

When you started to feel a little dizzy, you decided to go to the bathroom under the eyes of your brother from afar all the time in case something happened to you, while you were walking to the bathroom you didn’t notice that a boy was walking. just as fast as you with whom you collided and as soon as you saw him you realized who Jude Bellingham was, the new Real player, he tried to stop you and apologize but you ignored him and continued on your way, after a while you thought you had lost him but no Really, the idiot had waited outside the bathroom.

“I was just apologizing, it wasn’t a big deal.” He told you as soon as you came out of the bathroom. “If you only knew it’s a psycho to wait for a woman outside a bathroom in a club.”

“You are always like that?” “As well as?”.

“A bitch with people.” You were surprised that he called you that and even he seemed to you the most unpleasant man at that moment and many would believe that you would be exaggerating but not for you. “Yes, when they are Madrid rats.” You responded by trying to leave.

“And who are you to call me that?” You were angry at the time but you didn’t care about someone you didn’t plan to see again.

When you got back to your brother you didn’t feel like staying there anymore, so you told him it was time to go and he agreed after a boring night at his house with no woman to take. After that night you had to get up early and continue your training, you didn’t have time to check your cell phone and even less see what was being talked about, when you finally finished you could finally see that someone on twitter was talking about the argument you had with Jude.

"Are you stupid?" Your father asked as he entered the kitchen where you were having breakfast.

"What's going on?". "People saw you in a club fighting with a Madridista, he is not a good image for us and you know it."

“Yeah I know but how was I supposed to know they were going to see me argue, you were far from people so the ones who saw us are definitely nosy bitches.”

"This is nothing but I don't want to be seen with someone from Madrid again, do you understand?" At this point you had already tired of hating the madridistas just because your family said so, you didn't even care about them, the only thing for you was barça and the national team.

"Yes father":

After that little incident you didn't hear from him again and it was fine with you you didn't want to know anything else. At the end of the holidays you were already recovered, although you still couldn't play for your safety, they kept you on the bench for three games until everyone was one hundred percent sure that you would not get injured again and that's how it was, you came back better than ever and wanting to scoring goals in each of the matches, you felt at your best again.

For a few weeks you noticed on social networks that the event that had happened a while ago with Jude was not completely forgotten, there were people who were on your side and others on his side, although no one knows what the true conversation you had with him was. He, about 3 months had passed until you saw him again but this time he was in Barcelona for a match against Barça that you were planning to attend, you made sure to sit in a place where everything looked perfect and what better than to be forward with the other fans.

As it had always been a match with a lot of spark between the players and more so when Jude intentionally kicked one of our players, there everyone came out in defense which ended in Jude's expulsion immediately for making such a mess, at the end of the game. game Barça had won 3-0.

And from your place you saw Madrid leave sad because of his defeat, but your attention was focused especially on Jude, who was his first loss with his new team, so he was certainly more discouraged than the others. Before everyone finished passing you left the place and forgot about him.

It was July 10 and it was your 20th birthday so you decided to go out to celebrate with your friends at a club near where you lived, during the day you had spent it with your family and friends but at night things had to get better and You wanted to go out and celebrate like you haven't done in a long time. It was already like 3 am and while you were dancing in the distance you could see that Jude was in the same place, he was sitting with a girl on his legs while they were kissing you were watching him for a while at the same time you were dancing so that no one would notice when Your friend caught your attention and you stopped looking at them.

You didn't know how much time had passed but suddenly you felt a hand on your hip as you were about to hit the person who had touched you and before you could even do it he stopped you and pulled you closer to him and maybe it was The first time you didn't know what to say so you just glared at him and jerked out of his grip, at that moment you didn't see him but he laughed at you for the silly way you were acting so he followed you again and before you could escape he took your arm again to attract you.

"Let go". "You are always like that?".

"He's fucking with me right? You already asked that question once but at least you were sober." You spit in his face. "And you're still the same...".

"Of what? Say it, let's go." You wanted to slap him in the face for being as stupid as all the men on earth, I took you out of your thoughts when he pounced like that and kissed you by the nape of the neck so that you couldn't separate and even if you could, you wouldn't have done it after seeing how good his lips felt on yours.

When he finally released you neither of them said anything but they got away from there as fast as they could and he took you to the house where he was staying, at first you hesitated to stay there with him but as soon as they arrived and he kissed you again all the doubts or coherences that you might have had had vanished in the fastest way.

That night he took you in all the possible ways he could have done and you liked every moment, the way he admired you or how he smiled when he heard you say his name also the way he touched you making you feel in the clouds . In the morning you left very early before he woke up trying to forget every detail of a night that you knew would be impossible for you, even if it was something.

When you got back home you went back to bed until you woke up at 10 am because your phone kept ringing with instagram messages from Jude and thousands of twitter notifications tagging you and him too.

“Oh god, why always me?”.

After that you didn't answer again and you continued with your business waiting for your father to kill you, so something that almost happened appeared on the internet. Your father's way of being was well known and how demanding he was with you, do you remember the first time you talked about your family in an interview and a few minutes later the social networks were flooded with comments about your family that you were not interested in? , there were many who had supported your father because thanks to that you were always a winner and many others criticized him for his actions but despite everything you loved him and thanks to that you were who you were.

You and Jude didn't see each other again and the fans seemed to have calmed down at times but they always came out again when they uploaded photos of him with a woman tagging you or talking about you as if they had been a couple at some point. Your life continued as normal, your training for you was more and more demanding by order of your father and your body and mind demanded more each day. In the first days of August you felt worse and worse but that did not prevent you from giving your maximum in your training sessions and in the matches until your body gave no more and in one of the matches they collided with you and that was what overflowed the drop of the glass of water.

That was the last thing you remembered and when you opened your eyes again you were in the hospital with your mother next to you asleep in a chair you barely tried to get up your mother felt your movement and quickly approached you to hug you and ask how you were doing. which you still couldn't answer because you were so confused.

"What happened?". You asked. "Oh my baby."

You said your mother to hug you but trying not to hurt you.

“Is everything okay mom?” Your mother looked at you for a moment before answering but first she took your hand and at this point you were worried about what she might say.

“The doctors have told me that everything is fine but…”. “What’s up mom please.”

“You are pregnant”. You were in shock, you even almost fainted again, there were a thousand and one thoughts going through your head and you didn’t know which one to listen to, you didn’t even listen to what your mother was telling you and not even if your father already knew the news.

“Daddy know?” “Yes and he is very disappointed but he doesn’t want to talk about it.”

After that you asked your mother for some time to rest and think about what was happening to you, you were still too young to have a baby and you were also at the peak of your career to give up now you didn’t really know what you wanted . to do but first of all you had to talk to Jude because this was something that involved both of them.

Your father hadn’t spoken to you since the hospital and you knew he was going to stay that way until he got over it but in the meantime you had bigger problems like talking to Jude.

As he said he went to look for you and at all times he tried to start a conversation with you but you barely said a couple of words during the trip, when they arrived at his house he helped you to lower your bag and get comfortable in his house but the nerves were growing worse so while he was in his kitchen looking for a glass of water you just said it.

“I’m pregnant and it’s yours.” Never in your life had you said something so fast and this shocked him, he stood still for a moment without even saying anything until you decided to approach him. “Can you say something?”.

“You’re sure?”. He asked and you didn’t know if he was asking if he was the father or if you were sure you were pregnant so you just said yes.

He didn’t say anything to you and he took you in his arms to get up and start turning you around with a smile on his face. “OH GOD I’M GOING TO BE A FATHER.” He was screaming so you knew he was very happy about the news.

“Are you happy?”. “Of course I’m happy there’s going to be a mini me.”

“Unfortunately”. You told him making a joke. “Because I hope he looks like me.”

“What will happen to your career?” He asked you something you hadn’t thought about. “I still don’t know what I do know is that I want the baby and if it is necessary to postpone my career for a while, I will.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to throw everything away for me.” “I’m not doing it for you, I’m doing it because this is partly something I always wanted and they never let me even think about it.”

“Because?”. tea asked as he hugged you. “My father always saw a star in me and the children could not interrupt my path so I could not even think about starting a family.”

“But now you’re going to have one and with one of the people he hates the most, poor man with everything he’s going to have to process.” Jude said as he laughed at his comment.

“Do you think people are going to get mad?” Asked.

“Maybe but it doesn’t matter, they are not going to raise the child.”

“Of course not”.

That same night you stayed at his hou se and a short time later you announced on Instagram that you were going to stop playing soccer, to which everyone will be surprised and nobody knew why you had made that decision, so for several months of hiding and not showing up. In public, the speculation had been enormous everywhere and when you turned 7 months pregnant you thought it was time to tell the news.

You were expecting a man with the man least thought of by all, many were moved and many others were upset by the news after that you felt a weight less and you did not care what you thought because you were fine with your life and with your family and the most important you were okay with Jude.

[sissa-arrows]

Did you know during the Spanish Civil War, Moroccan soldiers who were allied with Franco would have rape "camps" for captured (or not) Republican women? One the most well-known perpetrators of such "campaigns" was Mohammed Mizzian, who was close friend of Franco, and after independence in 1956, he was personally invited by king Mohammed V to lead the newly Moroccan Army, and today even has a museum in his honour in Rabat..

And now the same thing is happening to Sahrawi women in the occupied territories.

Without removing anything from this type of horrors, that’s a very difficult subject for one simple reason. Part of Morocco was a Spanish colony.

Colonizers do use soldiers from the colonies to do horrific things. For example in Algeria a non negligible part of the soldiers who were sent by France to kill Algerians during the massacres of Setif, Guelma and the rest of the region, leading to the slaughter of 45000 Algerians, were Black infantrymen from other colonies. During the war against Vietnam keeping them from gaining their independence, some of the troops sent by France were Africans (Mostly Moroccan and Black men but they eventually started using them less and less because they were deserting the French army to join the Vietnamese revolution). Even without making them join the army France tried really hard to create division and use the colonized against each other. For example whenever Algerians organized an uprising the people would get arrested and either sentenced to death by guillotine or to forced labor and exile. For the “biggest” uprisings (excluding the war of liberation) they tended to avoid execution because they didn’t want to turn them into Shouhada in the eyes of the people. So the French often sentenced them to forced labor and exile. The exile always happened in other French colonies because the goal was also to use the Algerians to outnumber the indigenous people. Trying to turn the Algerians exiled into foot soldiers for French colonialism in those places (which didn’t work as well as planned but still).

So the colonized being forced to join the colonizers army and committing horrors in said army either by force or by choice is a subject that’s very complicated in my opinion. I don’t think they should be absolved of everything they did but I also don’t think they should be judged without taking into account the context. They were Black and Brown men at a time were refusing to fight for France could have easily gotten them under a guillotine. We all would love to think we would have chosen the guillotine over committing these horrors but the truth is we (myself included) don’t actually know what we would have done.

On top of it people (not saying that’s what you’re doing) LOVE to mention what the colonized did in the colonizer’s army while pretending white soldiers were not worst. So the colonized joining the colonizers armies is a very complicated subject in my opinion and not something I feel knowledgeable enough to talk about at length to condemn it.

That being said rape is definitely something that Morocco uses against the Sahrawi women. They also send tons of rape threats to Sahrawi and Algerian women online who dare be vocal against the occupation of Western Sahara. And this time they aren’t an army forced to act because the colonizers said so. They are not forced to join the army either. So there is absolutely no nuance. In this case they are the colonizers and they are hurting the colonized in horrific ways.

[mythicalmisery]

Fighter/Artist AU : GhostxSoap

Soap quickly made his way from his last lecture to his motorcycle sitting in the parking lot. Knocking over anyone who stood in his way, earning him a few choice words as he practically sprinted down the halls. He had three midterms that week and was fucking exhausted. One would think that being an art major would be less stressful, but that was wishful thinking. 

He slid his helmet over his slightly grown-out mohawk, lifting the kickstand and setting off on that familiar drive to the other side of town he took every week. Soap had a particular affinity for sketching real-world objects and people. He believed that capturing the human form, with all its complexities and intricacies, was one of the most challenging and rewarding aspects of his craft. To hone his skills, he sought out places where he could observe people in their most natural states and one of his favorite places for this purpose was Price's MMA boxing gym.

Price's MMA gym held a special place in Soap's heart. It wasn't just a place for fighters to train and beat the shit out of each other. Soap had practically grown up within the confines of that gym, having spent his high school days cleaning it after hours in exchange for some pocket change. It was during that time that he earned the nickname "Soap" because of the way he scrubbed the floors and equipment spotless.

One of the main reasons Soap loved the gym was the owner, an old family friend, retired military captain John Price. Price had been a mentor to him, teaching him valuable life lessons and discipline. Soap considered him a father figure, especially after his own father had passed away when he was just a child.

Soap’s best friend, Gaz, was among the gym’s most dedicated fighters. Gaz had dreams of making it big in the world of UFC, and he trained tirelessly, leaving no room for distractions. Despite their different paths in life, Soap and Gaz remained close friends even as his career started to take off. Soap often joined in on his training sessions and sketched Gaz as he practiced his punches and kicks, capturing the intensity of the man's movements. 

Every week, Soap would visit the gym, finding a comfortable spot in the corner, sketchbook in hand, and losing himself in the world around him. He sketched the fighters as they sparred and practiced. Each line and shadow made with his pencils captured their movements and forms on paper forever. The clanging of weights and the thudding of punches in the background became a form of comfort for Soap over the years. Easy to get lost in the symphony of noise. 

This particular day, he noticed something was off as soon as he stepped foot in the gym. It was uncharacteristically quiet. Everyone standing around was talking in hushed voices and whispers. As Soap sat down in his usual corner, he instantly noticed the subject of everyone's attention. A newcomer, and a striking one at that. Blond hair, tall, and with a physique that could only be described as imposing. Soap recognized him from one of the hundreds of fights he was forced to watch every week with Gaz. His name was Simon “The Ghost” Riley and he was quickly becoming a rising star in his weight division. Sports networks raved about him and were labeling him the next big thing in the world of mixed martial arts. He was talking with Price in the corner of the ring, Gaz also joining them off to the side. If he remembered correctly, the man was from Manchester. Price had mentioned wanting to bring in more talent, guess it finally happened. 

For three whole weeks, Soap couldn't tear his eyes away from Simon Riley. There was something captivating about him, something that drew Soap in like a moth to a flame. Simon's powerful physique and the way he moved in the ring were a sight to behold. He quickly became Soap's favorite subject to draw, and he couldn't help but blush every time he caught himself focusing too hard on the details of Simon's impressive figure. Gaz certainly never let him forget it after casually flipping through his drawings one day and noticing a recurring theme. He had offered to introduce Soap to the man but he swiftly denied the invitation, painfully aware that the fighter was well out of his league. 

It was during the fourth week of his new infatuation that shit hit the fan quickly. Soap had been lost in his sketches like normal when he felt a sudden tug on his sketchbook. It happened so suddenly he was powerless to stop it. Startled, he looked up to find the one and only Simon Riley holding his sketchbook with an unreadable expression on his face. Flipping through the multiple pages filled with sketches of himself. 

"Seems like I have a stalker," Simon teased, his lips quirking up into a playful smile.

Soap's cheeks flushed crimson as he stammered, "I-I'm not a stalker. I just... I’m an art student, I come here to practice, I swear”

Simon chuckled, his brown eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, you're quite talented,” he admitted, still studying the sketches. “These sketches are impressive.”

Soap was still furiously blushing as the man handed him back his sketchbook. Soap couldn’t believe he was having a conversation with Riley, he was even more intimidating up close. 

“Thank you, and I’m sorry” he managed to say, his voice a tad shaky. 

Simon’s teasing grin softened into a warm smile. “No need to apologize. I’m flattered, actually. Not every day I meet an artist who appreciates my…assets.” He winked, making the man's blush deepened even more. How cute. He mercifully decided to let Soap off the hook and started to back away. 

“The name's Simon, Simon Riley, by the way.”

“I know who you are,” the man stated, causing that lopsided grin to reappear on his face. 

“And does the artist have a name?”

“You can call me Soap.”

“Soap? What the hell kind of name is that?” Simon chuckled.

“It’s a nickname, you haven’t earned the real one quite just yet.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Soap,” the Brit said as he turned to head back to the training mats. 

From that day forward, whenever Soap visited the gym, he couldn't help but steal glances at the fighter whenever he could. And it seemed that Simon was just as intrigued by Soap. He began to pay more attention to the artist in the corner, watching him sketch with a keen interest. He would often strike up a conversation with Soap between training sessions, asking about his art and life outside the gym. Soap found himself drawn not only to Simon's physical presence but also to his genuine interest in getting to know him. One day, after finishing his training session, Simon decided to take their interactions a step further.

He leaned up against the ropes of the ring, that stupid smile plastered on his face. “Hey, Soap,” he called out, beckoning him towards the mats with a toss of his head. 

Soap blinked in surprise. “Me? In the ring?” He asked, his voice wavering slightly with a mix of excitement and nervousness. 

Simon just grinned and nodded his head back at him. “Yeah, why not? Just some light sparring. It will be fun.”

Soap hesitated, but the prospect of getting into the ring with his crush was too enticing to resist. To be that up close and personal with the man. He slowly shook his head and made his way to the ring. Rolling under the ropes and hopping up to face Simon who had that beaming smile aimed at him. It took everything in him not to melt right through the mat. 

“If I pin you, you tell me your real name. Deal?”

“Yeah cause that’s bloody fair coming from the professional fighter,” Soap scoffed back.

“Ah, don’t sell yourself short Soap, you seem like you know your way around the ring” Simon embellished with a wink. Cheeky bastard.

Soap watched countless sparring sessions, but had never imagined himself as one of the participants. To his surprise, he held his own quite well, showcasing a natural talent for the sport. Maybe spending years in the gym watching fighters had taught him more than he realized. Simon seemed impressed by his movements and techniques. His usual playful demeanor was giving way to genuine respect, even though he was going easy on the artist. They exchanged blows, both men sweating and grinning as they moved around the ring. 

As they sparred, Soap couldn’t help but stare at the man's body before him. The taught muscles shifting under his tight black athletic wear. Yeah, this was a bad idea. He glanced up at Simon's face, noticing the mischievous glint in Simon’s eye. Fuck. He definitely had been caught ogling the man's body. 

Suddenly, without warning, Simon hooked his left leg around Soap's ankle, sending him sprawling to the mat. Before he could even register what happened, Simon was on top of him and pushing down all his weight. He was trapped. 

Soap struggled beneath Simon’s crushing bulk, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “You… you did that on purpose. I was distracted,” he accused, though he couldn’t hide the hint of a smile on his face. 

Simon laughed above him, his eyes locking onto Soap’s with an intensity that sent shivers down his spine. “Maybe I did,” he admitted, leaning in closer until their faces were mere inches apart. “But I have to say, I like seeing you blush.”

Soap’s heart raced as he realized the proximity between them. Simon leaned in, his lips hovering just above Soap’s, leaving no room to wonder about his intentions. When Soap didn’t pull away, Simon closed the gap, capturing Soap's mouth in his. The kiss was electrifying, sending a rush of desire through Soap's body. It was a moment Soap had only ever dreamed of, and he responded eagerly, their lips moving in sync as the world around them faded away. 

When they finally broke apart, Soap's face was flushed, and his breath was unsteady. Simon grinned down at him, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he admitted.

Soap’s voice quivered as he replied, “Me too.”

“I expect a real name to call you now since I won,” he cheekily stated.

“You bloody cheated ya wanker!” Soap shouted at the man. 

“Don’t be a sore loser now mate,” Simon punctuated with a kiss to the man’s nose.

Soap huffed as he finally accepted defeat, the man was impossible. “John. John MacTavish”

Simon beamed at the man beneath him, hands holding Soap’s face like a prized possession as he leaned back in for another kiss. 

“Nice to meet you, Johnny”

Epilogue

As weeks went by, Soap and Simon’s connection deepened. They spent more time together outside the gym, going for coffee and sharing meals. Soap found himself falling hard for the enigmatic fighter, and it seemed that Simon’s interest in him was just as strong. 

One evening, after a particularly intense sparring session that had ended with a playful wrestling match on the gym floor, Soap finally mustered the courage to ask Simon a burning question. “Why do they call you ‘The Ghost’?”

Simon’s expression grew somber, and he sighed. “It’s a nickname I got during my early fighting days. They said I moved like a ghost in the ring, that I was elusive and hard to predict or some shit like that.”

Soap nodded, but he could sense there was more to the story. “Is there a reason you chose to become a fighter?”

Simon hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I had a tough upbringing, Johnny. Fighting was a way for me to escape the fucking shit in my everyday life. What started as a necessity for survival turned into my salvation. It gave me purpose and a sense of control over my life. God, that sounds pathetic doesn’t it,” he scoffed. 

Soap could see the pain in Simon’s eyes. He reached out to place a hand on his arm and scooted towards the man where they were still sitting on the mats. “It’s not pathetic Si, I’m glad you found something that brought you solace,” he said softly. Eyes never leaving the others, making sure he knew he meant every word. 

Simon smiled, his gaze softening. For once in his life, he truly believed Johnny had meant what he said. He was so used to people lying and using him, causing him to always stay distant and closed off. Something about the little artist in the corner had knocked all those barriers down the first time he laid eyes on him. “And I’m glad I found you,” he admitted, leaning in to capture Soap’s lips in a passionate kiss. The man had sketched his way into his heart forever. 

[princess-of-the-corner]

MLP Rewrite AU - How is Starlight Glimmer's redemption arc changed up, as the most divisive one in the show?

OH OKAY SO

I went into rewriting both the premier and finale focusing on her before so I'm just gonna go through plot points

So like. With the town. Change it so that Starlight's belief has her genuinely take her own Cutie Mark. Like in general I'm changing it because like like. Even if your Talent is taken, you still have years of training and knowledge. So everyone in town, instead of sucking ass at what used to be their talent, is now forbidden from doing it(even though they still crave to do so).

Starlight still knows how to do the spell even without her Cutie Mark, so she can still take their Marks. And other than being forbidden from pursuing their old talent, everyone's pretty happy actually! Not- not fully happy. They miss their passion and they're depressed, but they're not full cult-mode.

I think maybe cut down on the actual 'kidnapping and brain wash' thing for the most part. Just Starlight being very preachy and manipulative and figuring out how to poke and prod at insecurities about ones' Talent. Maybe have her words genuinely get through to some of the Mane Six. Like have Twilight think about how much her Talent for Magic has lead to the pressure put on her and forced her into the Princess role. Have Rarity feel like her Talent is wasted in her passion, as gemstone spells are only a tiny fraction of what she does. They don't fully fall for it, but they consider it.

It's only once the Mane Six convince the town that no, you're not happy without your Talent, and the town revolts, then Starlight goes 'no fuck you!!' and we get the fight.

Now for the finale:

I think having her be less 'fuck the Mane Six in particular' but still on her crusade against Cutie Marks. Her jumping through time is more to study them to she can figure out where they came from and get rid of them for good, and ofc she jumps to the Rainboom because it was an Event that connected the Mane Six through their Cutie Marks. Clearly there's more info there, and if she could see it in action....

The changes and alternate Timelines come from either her being there in general and/or her and Twilight fighting and keep ending up changing the race.

After Time Shenanigans and all, when Twilight asks that Starlight shows her where this all started, Starlight has more examples than just 'my friend got his Cutie Mark and he left'.

There's another friend whose talent was in dance, until an accident disabled them. Yet another whose passion died because their family forced them to do nothing but their talent, never engaging in a hobby even.

Even showing her ponies from her town. Sugar Belle who might be a great baker, but feels lost amongst the sea of other ponies who have baking and cooking talents. Party Favor, who is good at providing the best items one would need for decor, games, catering, music, etc., but can't plan a party to save his life and ended up floundering in requests to make a spectacle like some other party ponies.

Twilight would muse on the subject, admitting how back when she first came to Starlight's town, she questioned it as well. If she'd had a 'normal' Cutie Mark, or none at all, she may not be where she is. No complicated mentorship with the Princess, no near-death experiences, no pressure to deal with every disaster that pops up, no being forced into a role she didn't ever want.

But she also muses that, without all of that happening, she wouldn't be herself anymore. She wouldn't have the friends she loves or all the memory of them. (hell bring them back to the castle so Starlight can see the memory chandelier tree!)

Twilight brings up how she knows Sugar Belle and Party Favor and the others were miserable, and that for all the hardships they wanted their Marks back. That, now with a supportive community, they and their talents are thriving.

She doesn't know what happened to the others Starlight mentioned. But she does know that it's not your talent that's the source of such a bad state of mind, it's the environment. You need people around you who care and support you, all of you. They need to let a talent thrive. And while there may be situations, like the dancer who ended up disabled, it doesn't have to stop them. It will hurt, of course. They may never be the same. But they can still find ways to engage in what they love.

Starlight, though still angry and hurt, cannot stay in denial. But she is lost and confused. So when Twilight reaches out, offers to help her learn how to be better and how to get herself out of this mess, she takes the offer

[mariacallous]

On a stifling April afternoon in Ajmer, in the Indian state of Rajasthan, local politician Shakti Singh Rathore sat down in front of a greenscreen to shoot a short video. He looked nervous. It was his first time being cloned.

Wearing a crisp white shirt and a ceremonial saffron scarf bearing a lotus flower—the logo of the BJP, the country’s ruling party—Rathore pressed his palms together and greeted his audience in Hindi. “Namashkar,” he began. “To all my brothers—”

Before he could continue, the director of the shoot walked into the frame. Divyendra Singh Jadoun, a 31-year-old with a bald head and a thick black beard, told Rathore he was moving around too much on camera. Jadoun was trying to capture enough audio and video data to build an AI deepfake of Rathore that would convince 300,000 potential voters around Ajmer that they’d had a personalized conversation with him—but excess movement would break the algorithm. Jadoun told his subject to look straight into the camera and move only his lips. “Start again,” he said.

Right now, the world’s largest democracy is going to the polls. Close to a billion Indians are eligible to vote as part of the country’s general election, and deepfakes could play a decisive, and potentially divisive, role. India’s political parties have exploited AI to warp reality through cheap audio fakes, propaganda images, and AI parodies. But while the global discourse on deepfakes often focuses on misinformation, disinformation, and other societal harms, many Indian politicians are using the technology for a different purpose: voter outreach.

Across the ideological spectrum, they’re relying on AI to help them navigate the nation’s 22 official languages and thousands of regional dialects, and to deliver personalized messages in farther-flung communities. While the US recently made it illegal to use AI-generated voices for unsolicited calls, in India sanctioned deepfakes have become a $60 million business opportunity. More than 50 million AI-generated voice clone calls were made in the two months leading up to the start of the elections in April—and millions more will be made during voting, one of the country’s largest business messaging operators told WIRED.

Jadoun is the poster boy of this burgeoning industry. His firm, Polymath Synthetic Media Solutions, is one of many deepfake service providers from across India that have emerged to cater to the political class. This election season, Jadoun has delivered five AI campaigns so far, for which his company has been paid a total of $55,000. (He charges significantly less than the big political consultants—125,000 rupees [$1,500] to make a digital avatar, and 60,000 rupees [$720] for an audio clone.) He’s made deepfakes for Prem Singh Tamang, the chief minister of the Himalayan state of Sikkim, and resurrected Y. S. Rajasekhara Reddy, an iconic politician who died in a helicopter crash in 2009, to endorse his son Y. S. Jagan Mohan Reddy, currently chief minister of the state of Andhra Pradesh. Jadoun has also created AI-generated propaganda songs for several politicians, including Tamang, a local candidate for parliament, and the chief minister of the western state of Maharashtra. “He is our pride,” ran one song in Hindi about a local politician in Ajmer, with male and female voices set to a peppy tune. “He’s always been impartial.”

While Rathore isn’t up for election this year, he’s one of more than 18 million BJP volunteers tasked with ensuring that the government of Prime Minister Narendra Modi maintains its hold on power. In the past, that would have meant spending months crisscrossing Rajasthan, a desert state roughly the size of Italy, to speak with voters individually, reminding them of how they have benefited from various BJP social programs—pensions, free tanks for cooking gas, cash payments for pregnant women. But with the help of Jadoun’s deepfakes, Rathore’s job has gotten a lot easier.

He’ll spend 15 minutes here talking to the camera about some of the key election issues, while Jadoun prompts him with questions. But it doesn’t really matter what he says. All Jadoun needs is Rathore’s voice. Once that’s done, Jadoun will use the data to generate videos and calls that will go directly to voters’ phones. In lieu of a knock at their door or a quick handshake at a rally, they’ll see or hear Rathore address them by name and talk with eerie specificity about the issues that matter most to them and ask them to vote for the BJP. If they ask questions, the AI should respond—in a clear and calm voice that’s almost better than the real Rathore’s rapid drawl. Less tech-savvy voters may not even realize they’ve been talking to a machine. Even Rathore admits he doesn’t know much about AI. But he understands psychology. “Such calls can help with swing voters.”

[five-rivers]

Cult Division 3

Part of the Exhumed series

.

“What do you mean, you can’t change back?” asked Daily. 

“What do you think I mean?” asked Danny, stepping off the cloth, then stooping to ball it up into something he could easily carry.  “I can’t go back to being Phantom.”

“Then they really revived you?”

“No,” said Danny, “I don’t think so.”  He could still feel his ghost half, he just couldn’t grab it.  It had been like this for less than a minute and he already hated it. 

Daily shifted, looking around the park.  “Okay, um.  Can you do any of your… stuff?  The ghost stuff?”

Danny bit his lip and cycled through his basic powers.  Nothing.  He shook his head. 

“Oh, that’s bad.  You’re just like a normal kid now.”

He wasn’t wrong, exactly, but Danny wished he’d phrased it at least slightly differently. 

“A normal kid… In the park in the middle of the night…”  Daily shook his head.  “We shouldn’t be here when McGee comes back.  He still hasn’t chilled out.”

Meaning, he was still looking for things to report back to the agency that sent him in the first place.  Danny groaned.  “Don’t worry, I’m going home.”  Maybe his parents would have some insight into what had happened.  Or, at least, who they had sold Ghost Catcher thread to.

“Hey, no, wait, you can’t walk home from here like that.  You’re not even wearing a coat.”

“I don’t really have another option—”

“I’ll drive you.”

“Isn’t that Collin’s car?”

“He won’t miss it.  And he left the keys.”

Danny stared for a moment at the blatant lies, then shrugged.  He could still hear distant sounds of people running through trees and bushes.  It would take a while for Collins, Paterson, and McGee to catch everyone, assuming they caught anyone at all, and Fentonworks wasn’t that far away. 

He walked back to the car and opened the door, the front one, this time, and slid in.  Daily got in the other side, then stared blankly at the steering wheel. 

“You do know how to drive, right?”  It was a valid question.  Danny had never seen Daily drive. 

“Of course I do!  I just haven’t driven this car before.”  He started the car up, and very slowly pulled out onto the road. 

The slowness of the drive gave Danny time to further assess himself.  His ghost half was definitely, absolutely, still there (thank goodness).  It just felt… weighed down.  Pinned.  Tied up. 

He started picking at the glowing thread.  The patterns were repeated on his skin, but maybe it was just a matter of taking off his clothes…

The car slowed to a halt.  “Do you need me to walk you in?” asked Daily, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel.  “I can…  Explain to your parents?  Or maybe your sister?”  Jazz was mentioned in a significantly more helpful tone than his parents.

“No, I’ve got it,” said Danny, opening the door.  “Thanks for the ride.  You’ll let me know what you find out about that cult and…”  He gestured at himself.  “Whatever they did.”

“Okay,” said Daily.  “Yeah.  Of course!  That’s my job, right?”

Keeping an eye on and researching cults was part of Daily’s job, but telling Danny wasn’t.  Still.  “Yeah,” said Danny, smiling weakly. 

.

Collins frowned at the empty parking lot.  “Paterson!” he called. 

“Yeah?” came Paterson’s voice, echoing across the park. 

“Did I, or did I not park here?”

“What?”

Collins groaned.  “Give it up, they got away!”  He sighed.  “Possibly with my car.”

.

Danny did not have the best track record when it came to telling his parents about things, but he was trying to get better.  Still, he felt like the present subject had to broached delicately.  That was why he was sitting on the floor outside their bedroom, listening to his dad snore.

He wanted to tell them.  He wanted to fix this.  But he didn’t want to admit how much trouble he’d gotten into and how a bunch of cultists had gotten the better of him. 

But he was trying, and his new, ugh, magic glowing tattoos weren’t something he could hide.  He picked up the broom he had brought with him and opened the door.  No point in knocking, they both wore earplugs to bed.  He picked up the broom and poked his dad with the end of it. 

“WHAT!  GHOST!”

“Hmhph?” said Maddie.  “Ghost?”  She had a small ectoblaster in her hand already. 

“No, just me.”  Danny put down the broom and raised his hands. 

“Oh, Danno,” said Jack, rubbing at one eye as Maddie pried the earplugs from his ears. “What are you doing here?” 

Danny bit his lower lip.  “I… might have screwed up.”

.

“Danny, sweetheart, that doesn’t sound like it was your fault.  It would have happened even if you stayed home.  You were kidnapped.”

“I guess.”  It still felt like he could have done something.  Maybe if he’d paid a little more attention to the cults, kept a closer eye on what they were doing.

“But we do need to see what we can do with all this.”  She picked up his hand and rubbed her thumb over one of the green marks on its back.  “…and about that summoning thing.  I don’t like that these people can just snatch you away whenever they like.”

“And we’ll never let them do anything like that again!  Or else!” said Jack, brandishing the spatula he was using to flip the pancakes.

“It sounded like it was related to the date somehow.”

“That doesn’t comfort us much, sweetie.  Especially considering what they did to you.  Do you think they really involved your, ah…”

“I mean…”  Danny trailed off and took his hand back.  He rubbed his arms against the sudden chill.  “I don’t know.  It’s not like I’ve never gotten my powers knocked out of whack.  It could be like that.  Might even have a time limit.”

“But?” prompted Maddie. 

“But… it feels different,” admitted Danny.  “It’s weight, not static.”

“Do you think we’ll need to, uh, what’s the word again, for digging up a, um…”

“Exhumation,” said Maddie, before Jack could come up with a proper euphemism for corpse. 

Danny wasn’t really comfortable about his… mortal remains.  But the pauses and too-obvious references were, in many ways, worse. 

Literally everything else about his life was better than when he’d still been keeping things a secret, though!  He did not want to go back!

Except maybe to earlier tonight, when getting the dead half of his body shoved back into him wasn’t something he had to worry about happening.

“We’ll have to ask the police about that,” said Maddie.  “Maybe we can start with a few simple tests after breakfast, though.  See if how much your readings changed from your baseline.”

“Hey!  Could be that all you need is a trip through the old Ghost Catcher!”

“Ghost Catcher string partially caused this,” said Danny.  “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to, uh, cross wires.”

“There shouldn’t be any problem with that,” said Jack.  “The strings aren’t reactive with each other, they wouldn’t work if they were.  Speaking of which, how did they even get it into this cloth?”  Jack used the spatula to point at the cloth, which was spread out over Jazz’s chair.  “Usually, you have to have special tools to work with any of it, or else it just falls through.”

“I don’t know, they didn’t really say anything beyond path of enlightenment nonsense.  You know, the whole ‘we worship you but won’t listen to a thing you say’ thing.”

Maddie sighed.  “We’ll just hope they get caught so they can tell us what they were actually trying to do.  In the meantime, we’ll do our own research…  And maybe you can use this as a break.  A little vacation.”

“In the same way sick days are a vacation, I guess.”

“Do you feel sick?”

“No,” said Danny.  “Not yet, anyway.”

“Maybe you should stay home from school until we can find a way to undo this.”

“Aw, no, Mom.  I don’t want to miss any school.  I’ve been actually doing okay this year.”

“But we don’t know how any of this is going to affect you.  What if it is temporary, and your… body is involved.  What happens if it times out in class?”

Danny swallowed, suddenly nauseous.  “I hadn’t thought about that.”

.

The chief of police sat in his office, blinds drawn, two thirds of the trouble trio and Cameron Daily. 

“You’re telling me that the person who is primarily responsible for protecting our city from hostile ghosts has been nerfed by cultists.  Cultists that you let get away.”

“Hey!” said Daily.  “I didn’t know you knew what nerfed meant, chief!”

The chief groaned.  “Find these cultists.  Figure out what they did.  Get the Fentons whatever they need to undo this.  Fast.”

.

“Alright,” said Maddie, as if she hadn’t been having a whispered argument with Jack only minutes before, “I’m going to city hall to file the exhumation paperwork.  You two stay here unless something happens to Danny.  No leaving for ghost attacks.”

“Aw,” said both Jack and Danny. 

“But, Mom—”  

“No buts.  This is a sick day for Danny, and someone needs to look after him the whole time.”  She pointed sharply at Jack.  “Don’t run off.”

Danny hunched his shoulder.  He wasn’t that bad to look after, was he?  Not that he wanted to be looked after.

“But if I’m the one to talk to Vladdie, it’ll be faster!”

“It’ll be hours, sweetie, if you two get started.  If he doesn’t leave you in the waiting room,” she added under her breath.  “You know how you two get.”

“Not when Danny’s at stake!”

Maddie gave him a look. 

“Fine,” said Jack. 

“Maybe you two can do something together while I’m gone.  Fudge, maybe?  Or cookies?”

“Oooooh!” said Jack.  “Yeah!  Cookies!  How does that sound, Danno?”

“I have homework,” groused Danny. 

“I can help with that, too!”

“Goodbye, guys.  Oh!  Remember, if I’m not back by lunch, run the tests again, okay?”

“Will do, Maddie!”

“Okay, Mom,” said Danny, giving a little wave. 

“Good, good.  So, keys, cell phone, wallet, boo-staff—” The door clicked closed, cutting off the rest of her list. 

“Okay,” said Jack, thumping Danny’s back and giving him a little shove at the stairs.  “I’ll get the kitchen set up!  You get your homework!”

“Yeah,” said Danny.  “Okay.” 

“Fundge here we come!” said Jack, pumping his fist.  “Get it?  Fundge?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, giving him a weak smile.  “I get it.”  He started for the stairs, irrationally annoyed he couldn’t fly up them.  He wouldn’t have flown up them anyway.  He hardly ever did that. 

He walked into his room and stopped.  Actually, where was his homework?  Where was his backpack? 

Ugh.  Typical. 

He started looking behind and underneath things, the process all the more tedious because he couldn’t just reach through them.  Hopefully he hadn’t done something stupid like phase it into the wall last night.  ‘Oops, I made my homework inaccessible to the living’ was not going to fly in any of his classes…  Unless he blamed it on his parents…  Food for thought.  He paused to email a request for class notes to Sam and Tucker.  Halfway through writing the message, he heard the screaming doorbell go off.

“I’ve got it!” called Jack. 

“Okay!”  Danny hit send on the email and kept looking for his backpack.  He dropped to the floor to look under his bed, scowled as it wasn’t there, either, then got up and tripped over his sheets, pulling them off his bed. 

Why had he put his backpack in his bed?  So stupid. 

He shouldered it and prepared to go downstairs, but… 

Something was wrong.  He thought back, trying to decide what it was.  Living… or unliving?  Half-living the way he did, he was pretty good at pinpointing the sources of vague senses of wrongness.

It was quiet. 

The front door hadn’t shut. 

Holy crap, had someone just kidnapped his dad?

Emergency blaster, emergency blaster…  He held his backpack by one strap to use as a bludgeon – the books in it were certainly heavy enough – and held the blaster steady in his other hand.  He would activate the Defense System, but his parents had ripped a lot of it out after the reveal and were still in the process of reinstallation. 

He tapped his door open with his foot and ventured out into the house.  It really was too quiet.  Almost suffocatingly so.  He held his breath.  Probably not the best choice, strategically, but something about everything…

He hit the bottom step of the stairs, turned into the kitchen, and ran into two people wearing oxygen masks. 

His reflexes were better, so he started firing immediately.  Ectoblasters weren’t meant to hurt humans, not really, but the impact to the chest was enough to knock both of the men back.  The recoil was equally sufficient to knock the air out of Danny’s lungs.  He wasn’t really trying to hold his breath, after all. 

He ran past them, inhaling, and… stumbled, suddenly dizzy. 

Oxygen masks. 

Stupid mistake!  Sometimes his instincts were good!

Something touched his upper arm, and he lashed out, swinging his backpack backwards.  There was an oof sort of sound, and one of the men toppled over.  The other one pulled the backpack out of Danny’s hand, which was a mistake, because he was still holding the gun.  Ectogun.  Whatever.  He shot him. 

Then…  Outside.  Whatever was in here, they couldn’t have enough to get the whole neighborhood, and if they could get away with just oxygen masks, it probably wasn’t super toxic.  Also, if it had spread very far, someone in the neighborhood would have noticed.  Probably.  Maybe. 

They’d notice enough to complain, at least. 

Halfway through the living room, he had to breathe again.  Human physical limits sucked. 

Black spots danced over his vision and left him on his knees.  He got back up and went for the door, stumbling drunkenly.  He hit it with his face.  Why were doors so hard to operate?

The black spots slowly grew until they consumed his vision. 

“Did… did he just run into a wall?”

“Just because he’s perfect doesn’t mean he smart.  And get rid of… we… need… backpack…”

.

Collins and Paterson stared at the most significant piece of physical evidence regarding Daniel Fenton’s kidnapping. 

“If you’re not going to say it, I am,” said Paterson. 

“Don’t say it,” said Collins. 

“I really want to, though.”

“Don’t.”

“I think ‘my homework ate a kidnapper’ is a great excuse for not doing it.  That kid is brutal.  How much blood do you think is on that thing?”

“Paterson, he got kidnapped.”

“Yeah,” said Paterson, a grin plastered on her face, “and that’s terrifying, thanks.  Let me have this.”

McGee escorted Daily through the front door of Fentonworks, his hand firmly on the man’s shoulder.  “Got him,” he said. 

“Oh, man,” said Daily.  “So, this is what a real crime scene looks like.”  He saw the backpack and squeaked.  “Is that blood?”

“Yeah.  Now do your thing and find out why these two think what happened last night in the park is connected to this.  Fenton wasn’t actually involved in that, was he?”

“His family takes care of the gravesite,” said Collins.  “And this is the biggest crime in Amity Park for years.  We have to look at everything.”

“Uh huh,” said McGee.  “Well, I’m going to go back out and question the father.”

Collins groaned internally.  Dealing with McGee was usually… if not exactly fun, then at least amusing, but dealing with his everything on a case like this…  With Danny’s… possibly with Danny’s life on the line, who knew how that worked with the whole cult thing…

“Do you think we can offload McGee on someone else?” he asked Paterson. 

“And give him something to actually report to his bosses?  Not a chance.”

[genderfluiddipshit]

Smoke Break - A Pressure One Shot

Rated General (no tw/cw apply)

Tags: Reader Perspective, AU, Sebastian is just a wee bit depressed, taking advantage of the fact he smokes tobacco

Despite the name, the EXR-P divisions were anything but what they were meant to be: expendable. Blood transfusions, defibrillators, and resuscitative measures were used to ensure that prisoners wouldn’t just kill themselves to get out of a prison sentence. Instead, they had 2 choices: actually complete the objective of collecting the crystal and escaping with their lives, or be forced to loop endlessly in futile struggle. You wanted to do the former, but luck wasn’t on your side, so the latter ended up being your new purgatory. 

On your current “run,” you decided to go solo, as your previous group was too cowardly to go anywhere beyond the starting dock. While the solace was eerie, it was nice to be alone for once. However, that didn’t mean you were fully alone, of course. 

You had just reached the next door after an Eyefestation. As your head cleared, you looked up at the red navpath behind you. Fifty two. Ugh. You looked around for loose assets as usual, picking up folders until you heard something other than the jingling of key rings with USBs and manila folders with proprietary information. A clicking noise could be heard throughout the room. What could it be? A Wall Dweller making a hunting call? A collective Good People chittering as it awaited fresh meat?

You couldn’t quite pinpoint the sound until the faint clicking preceded a loud bang and a frustrated grumble. It sounded like it was coming from a distant room, so you continued onward. Fifty three, fifty four, fifty five, fifty six…

By the sixty-fourth room, you wondered if the noise was just a figment of your imagination. 

Then it was right next to you. 

A soft click sounded next to you, on your left. You only heard it once, followed by a deep inhale and exhale…Was someone smoking? You could smell the sour tobacco seeping out through the door. Smelled like a Chainsmoker, but softer, less pungent. 

You slowly opened the door. 

The wave of cigarette smoke hit you like a train. You coughed and attempted to regain your senses as you turned on your lantern to see. 

“No no no, allow me.” A figure stood out against the smoke and weak lantern light. It seemed to fill the entire room. From what you could make out, it reached up toward its head and pulled at one of its appendages to illuminate itself, reminding you of an old lamp. 

“What brings you here, prisoner?” It took a big huff from its cigarette. Two empty packs laid on a desk in front of him, with a third halfway done. Its voice rasped from the cig binge, and it tilted its head curiously as it awaited a response. 

“Just doin my job, big guy. What are you, and how did you get here?” And why do you have so many cigarettes, you added mentally. 

It chuckled and uncurled its long, serpentine tail that it rested over, smudging the butt on the desk in a divot made from being burnt. 

“My name is Sebastian, and I was like you once. I was imprisoned under Urbanshade, and so I was subjected to whatever nefarious programs they had on the docket. The wheel landed on experimentation when I was being looked over, so they decided to attempt at giving me gills. It worked, but look at me,” it gestured dejectedly to its body, “I became this monster. I got so angry that I practically murdered the whole research team and fled down here. Now I just sit here and think about life and how to maybe go back up to the surface to have a normal one.”

As it had been talking, you had taken a seat beside it, the creature towering over you menacingly. While it didn’t attempt or appear to be threatening, you kept yourself on high alert. That is, until it made a proposition. 

“Care for a smoke?”

OUGHHG FIRST PIECE OF PRESSURE FANFIC BAYBEE also these lovely dividers are by cafekitsune on tumblr! :3 i was drawing a pic of sebby in the gabe dress and it reminded me of a flapper so i gave him the long...cigarette...holder...thingie- ANYWAY here's the gist of it:

[zelphin124]

SeasonTale - Prologue

It's finally here! For those of you who wanted more SeasonTale... I'm finally starting the story!

Here we go!

“This isn’t a good idea.” 

“And why do you think that?” 

“According to my calculations, the two princes will fight for power once they are older. This will lead to a division in your plan.” 

“Perhaps, but they are both my sons.” 

“Which alone is impossible. I don’t understand how you had two.” 

“Well, I did, and both seem equally worthy of becoming my assassin servant.” 

“One of them will rebel.” 

“If you’re so smart, tell me what to do with the other!” 

“You could give a child to the scientist.” 

A long moment of silence past between the conversers as a new creature joined their conversation. 

“I experiment on monsters, it wouldn’t be a good idea to give him to me.” 

“A prince should not be treated to such a pathetic life.” 

“Rude.” 

“But he doesn’t have to know that he was ever a prince.” 

“That’s impossible. Their eyes will show that they are related.” 

“Not if you changed them with magic.” 

The Gasters floated silently as they observed the third. They pondered what the stranger said. 

“Shouldn’t you keep them separated anyway? So they don’t find each other and rebel?” 

“We’ve already taken care of the other two children, surely they won’t find each other.” 

“It’d be devastating to our plan if they somehow did all meet.” 

“Exactly. So, change one of the other’s eyelids with magic and send him with the scientist. Your plan will be flawless with them never meeting each other.” 

“But the bond of brotherhood is so strong-” 

“Do as he says. Take the smaller one as your son. I wanted him less anyway.” 

“I am not a father. I conduct experiments, and I’m about to enter a new project with the spring kingdom’s Gaster by testing my subjects with magic!” 

“Who says the child can’t be one of the subjects?” 

A grin appeared on the scientist's face. He rubbed his hands together. “You, sir, are a smart lad.” 

“I try.” 

“My son will become a prince that everyone fears. He will become a heartless killer. I already see it in him.” 

“If he refuses?” 

“He doesn’t have a choice. I’m sure you’ll make sure of that?” 

“Of course. None of the children have a choice in what happens to them anyway.” 

“But if they find the rebellion?” 

The king snapped a deadly look at the scientist, his eyes lighting up. “Solstice will never find the children, let alone bring them together. I see no flaw in our plan.” 

“But-” 

“You dare question your leader? I’m sure he has the rebellion taken care of.” 

“Take the small Sans, I no longer need him. Make sure to keep him far away from the other kingdoms. And watch the other children from afar.” 

“Yes sire.” 

The scientist scooped up the former prince into his arms and darted off. 

“Do you believe that this plan will work?” 

“Indeed, old friend.” He smiled wickedly. “Soon, you will have four connected AUs ready for your command.”

The stranger floated and nodded silently, smiling to himself. 

“I look forward to it.” 

[xalygatorx]

Worthy (2015) | Chapter 8, "Sentiment"

Disappearing sporadically in public spaces quickly becomes Cora Dempsey's least concerning problem when suddenly she captures the attention of the forming Avengers Initiative, the World Security Council, and Asgard's fallen prince all in one week. And the universe is only just getting started with her.

Worthy is a slow-burn SFW Marvelverse (films) romance between Loki and a female OC. For additional details on what canon is used, see the Prologue post.

Summary: SHIELD’s hunt for Cora is escalated to a threat level by the WSC. Cora receives devastating news that makes her desperate to leave the warehouse despite Loki’s refusal to let her do so. Cora finds a way around his rules.

Pairing: Loki x Fem!OC

Warnings: Death of a relative (found out via text)

Word Count: 3k

Fury couldn't say that he was surprised he had another conference call in less than twenty-four hours. He couldn't say he was happy about it either; not even close. He'd been sitting with Coulson in the conference room, going over potential tweaks to the Avengers Initiative setup and chatting about Tony's new self-sustaining "baby," Stark Tower, when the windows had flickered into their screen mode and a ringer started cycling.

He'd hoped it was Alexander, even Sharon would have sufficed. However, when he reluctantly answered the call, the panels were filled with the faces of the World Security Council, including Warren. Director Fury swallowed a more colorful array of words before verbalizing a cleaner copy of what he'd been thinking. "What a surprise. Has something happened?"

A thin-lipped woman with bobbed hair and lipstick that matched the color of her blazer smiled superficially and replied while shuffling some papers, "Not yet. That's what we intend to prevent, Director Fury."

"What Councilwoman Jenner means to say is we have…concerns," Warren supplied, seeming a bit more amiable in this conversation. Then again, he was in his own element again and his backup was present.

"Concerns about what?" Fury asked straightforwardly, sick already of the Council's little conversation games.

"Subject Camo," Jenner answered after a collective moment of hesitation, her English accent thick and her hands folding in front of her on the desk as she leaned forward. He started to argue, but she held up her hand and continued, "It's become apparent that your division and, hm, 'Avengers' are incapable of containing the problem, which…we find to be a problem in and of itself."

Fury resisted the urge to scoff. "There are bigger things happening in the world that you could be—"

"And yet, here we are," another Council member said, glancing up over his glasses with a condescending air. "Clearly, she's a large enough problem that she's slipped through your agents' grasp twice now and our colleague felt it necessary to bring her to our attention. I hear she's different than expected."

"Yeah, she has more power than we knew about at first, but—"

"Therefore, she must be, oh, delicately put… Eliminated," Jenner said lightly as she jotted something down on one of her forms.

"Eliminated?" Coulson repeated, unable to keep out of the conversation now. "Why?"

"Ah, Agent Coulson. It's been a while," the third Council member said in recognition.

"Indeed it has, Dirk, but you all couldn't possibly mean…"

"But we do," Warren said shortly. "The girl is too much of a threat to be allowed to run amok and, clearly, simply containing her has proved too difficult for SHIELD, for you, to handle."

"She's just a kid!" Fury bellowed at the screen, shocked at the turn in events.

"And you're just a director," Jenner said silkily, flashing another fake smile. "You have your orders. Get it taken care of or we will take the matter into our own hands. Good day, Director Fury. Agent Coulson." And then the screen flickered back to the night sky.

Silence took over the room until Coulson asked with a frown, "And your orders, sir?"

Fury contemplated his options a moment before sighing and shaking his head. "We're not going to kill her, but we sure as hell have to crack down on efforts. We have a deadline now."

"Problem is, we don't even know what the specific 'deadline' is," Coulson pointed out with a stressed frown.

"We'll just have to work fast and hope it's fast enough."

The text message came while Cora was having her breakfast, hard-pressed not to throw up from how much she didn't want any more bagels. Despite that, she swallowed the bite she'd taken and dug her phone out of her pocket, her brow lifting as she peered down at the name; it was her uncle.

Bewilderment was soon replaced by dread, which iced over her insides just as she unlocked her screen and opened the message. It read, "Grandma's passed. Funeral at St. Mary's Church on Cog Street. Tomorrow 6pm."

Cora clenched her teeth a little, holding down the emotions that started bubbling up in a gradually growing intensity within her as she read the text again. And again. And again, just trying to absorb it. She lifted her gaze toward the high windows, where a vague patchwork of stars was visible in each pane. Grandma can't be gone. She's all I had left, Cora thought to herself, her eyes starting to burn a little.

She locked her phone again just before she heard the door swing lopsidedly open, clanking and skidding a corner against the floor. Loki reentered the warehouse, grimacing at the door before he looked at her, immediately asking in a wary tone, "Have I done something else?"

"What?" she asked and her voice sounded a little strained.

"You're upset," he noted bluntly.

"What makes you say that?"

Loki gave her a chiding glance as he stepped over, crouching down in front of her and lifting a hand toward her face. Angling a fingertip just under her eye, he pulled it away seconds later and showed her a telltale tear that had slipped through her control. Cora glared at it before looking up at him. "I need to go to California."

"We've been through this, you are not leaving this place until I find a better spot and move us there, myself."

"My grandmother just died," Cora argued, the desperation to be understood making her angry.

Loki paused and lifted a brow. "How do you know?"

"My uncle sent me a message just a few minutes ago. The funeral is tomorrow and I need to go."

"You're not going."

"How dare you!" she lashed out, her voice choking a little as she continued to hold it all in.

"Sentiment will get you caught. Might even get you killed," he said contemplatively.

"I don't care anymore, all right?" Cora snapped, causing Loki to sigh with frustration. "I—"

"I will not tell you again, woman," Loki murmured with forced calm, one of his hands resting against his jaw. "You. Will stay. Here."

Cora seemed to fish for something to say, but finally gave up, glaring vehemently and looking back down at her phone, ignoring him. Loki sighed and stood up, rubbing his eyes lightly.

When it was made clear that she was well and truly "pissed" at him by the scrunched face she made down at her phone, he gave up and sat back against the wall, exhaustion winning out and encouraging him to get some rest. He closed his eyes and was out in a few minutes' time. Now that he'd collected all the updated information on the Tesseract, he felt it acceptable that he take some time to sleep.

Cora paused in her mindless mashing of her touch screen, glancing up at Loki contemplatively before her eyes skimmed down to Mjolnir. Despite her present melancholy, a faint smirk curved her lips.

Not going, my ass.

It was inexplicable how his strange premonition of frustration seemed to catch him upon awakening, but as soon as he saw the empty pile of blankets against the opposite wall, he nearly snarled. "By the Nine, I—" He paused in getting up, figuring he'd immediately go after her before she got too far away; at least until he was immediately jerked backward by an impossible weight on his wrist.

His gaze flashed down to Mjolnir and he seethed, muttering as he tried to tug the multi-layered knot she'd wound the leader cord into, "How did she even manage this without waking me?!"

Loki had tugged three out of the seven knots free when there was a strange little lurch in the hammer's head. He paused, his brow knitting as he wondered whether or not he'd imagined it, which was all the time it took for the hammer to shiver again and then slowly rise up from the floor, the spoke angling toward the concrete wall he'd been sleeping against.

As he understood what was happening, Loki parted his lips to curse, only to have the breath knocked out of him when Mjolnir lurched and shot forward, smashing through the wall and dragging him right along with it. He had the sense to throw his seithr over his form, making himself invisible because he knew who would be watching. And it just wasn't time to reveal himself yet.

"There!" he murmured as he finally loosed the last few knots, the momentum he'd picked up from the hammer causing him to stumble and nearly face-plant into the dry sand. He looked up just in time to watch Mjolnir disappear into the atmosphere, his lips thinning as he gave a swift punch to the ground and went back into the warehouse.

Loki began mulling over all his options, trying to put together any sort of plan that would tell him where she'd gone off to. In retrospect, he should've gotten more information out of her in case she pulled something like this, but he hadn't thought she'd be so stupid. His eyes fell upon a black rectangle near where he'd been sitting, asleep, which he picked up and turned over. It was her phone, probably having fallen out of her pocket as she tied the hammer on his wrist and ran out.

He pressed the button at the center of the lower edge, watching the screen flicker to life and present him with a password-protected lock. Loki paused, thinking back to when he'd glanced over her shoulder during their little training session the other day. After two failed attempts, he remembered the numbers she'd hit and the screen unlocked, presenting him with a multitude of little colored squares.

"FaceTime… Calendar… Camera…," he read aloud, cursing as he accidentally set off the camera app. "Damn, how do I… Ah, right, got it!" Loki grinned and continued to look through the apps, moving past "Videos" to something called Safari. He arched his brow thoughtfully. Well, it is a compass…

He tried to use that and typed Cora's name into the Search bar, but the program clearly didn't know what it was doing, so he got out of it and went to the next, which was nicely labeled "Maps." He squinted slightly and murmured, "Search or address… Address, hrm… Messages," a little distractedly as he left the app momentarily and went to see if he could find her messages, remembering she'd mentioned getting one from her uncle. Considering he saw no letters in the area, he assumed it had come through her phone.

Once he found the message, he took note of the gathering place and went back to maps, typing it in a little uncertainly at first, his fingers becoming more nimble as he went. After more shuffling, Loki was victorious and a route was drawn on the screen. He memorized it and smirked triumphantly before muttering, "Nice try, Cora, I'll always find you." With that, he pressed the top button again, which did his will by locking the screen and he left the warehouse, disappearing within his magic once more.

Loki found it necessary to check the map a couple more times before he ended up where he needed to be, seeing familiar street names and landmarks that had been listed with the route. However, after everything, it took hours for him to get there.

When a sign that read, "Church of St. Mary," came into view along with a pronounced, cross-laden steeple, Loki knew he was on the right track, soon arriving at the street corner and spying a long black vehicle at the curb, a lot filled with cars nearby. The building was contained within a black wrought-iron fence and he was getting a bit nervous that she'd already been snatched up by SHIELD when he saw her leaning against the ebony spires in the shade, her fingers loosely wrapped around the peaks.

Frowning, he waited until he was under the cover of the tree as well before dropping the seithr clinging to his body, following her gaze toward the wide-open doors acting as the mouth of the church. "Satisfied?" he murmured as he got close enough for her to hear him.

"Shut up," she said quietly, her voice lacking in its usual fervor.

Loki smirked faintly before looking down at her; her eyes were red again and a little puffy. "You won't go inside? I thought the whole point of your rendezvous was going to the funeral."

"I'm fine just being out here," she replied, never taking her eyes off the casket past the doors and the minister speaking nearby, the bible he was quoting from spread open in his hand. "Without her, there's not really anyone in there for me."

He leaned against the fence beside her, watching the man inside make sweeping gestures and proclamations of life, health, joy, and the heavens while the audience inside alternated between weeping and smiling wetly. "Funerals are much different in Asgard," he admitted softly as he watched. "Then again, most things are much different in Asgard. By the way, here. You dropped this back at the warehouse."

Loki handed her back her phone and she glanced over for the first time, taking it and unlocking the screen to find the Maps app open and working. Her eyes widened a little and she turned her dark eyes up to his. "You used my phone to get here?"

"Yes, I saw you type your code in before. I wasn't trying to though," he said, waiting for her to get mad at him for "invading her privacy" or something.

"You're fine, I'm just impressed."

Loki was surprised at that and gave an awkward, "Oh." He never understood his reactions to praise from her. Though he never really understood the majority of his reactions to her in any sense. 

He cleared his throat and glanced furtively at her only to note that she was back to looking at the church doors, her hands upon the fence bars, which allowed him to notice something when her jacket sleeve shifted upward… "What is that?"

Cora looked up at him before following his gaze to her right wrist, where one of her tattoos was peeking out. She angled her arm against the fence so her sleeve would continue to move upward, revealing four stick-figure symbols in bold black lines. "It's more of a sentimental thing, I think. This was something I doodled into a lot of my drawings as a kid and then I had a dream about it a few years back, so I got it tattooed on. I think at the time, I kind of connected it to my childhood and—why are you looking at me like that? What did I say?" He had a look of disbelief on his pearly features.

Loki reached forward and carefully snared her wrist in his slender fingers, turning it over to get a better look, unable to avoid wincing when he again noted yellowed bruising on her knuckles. "Nothing, it's… Well, it is your name."

"What do you mean?" Cora asked, looking down at the tattoo. She just saw scribbles.

"It is your name… But these are Asgardian runes," he murmured, skimming the pad of his thumb lightly over her inked skin, his brow creasing as he tried to understand how this was possible.

"I… But how can that be?" Cora asked, just as shocked and confused as he.

"I don't know, but we—"

"Hey, man, nice costume!" Both turned to look at a boy walking by, no older than seventeen. "You from an anime or something?"

"What are you talk—"

"Oh, Loki, your armor!" Cora finally noticed, looking at him and then wondering why no one had seemed to notice until she took in the high school boy's own attire: a tattered gray shirt, holed jeans, mussed hair, and painted blood splatters over his clothes and at his mouth, an off-shade of green smeared over his face. "Oh…," she realized quietly as another little monster ran by. "It's Halloween."

"Halloween?" he repeated, earning a laugh from the boy, who commented on how in-character Loki was before catching up with his friends.

"It's a holiday. Kids dress up in costumes and go around to get candy," Cora said quietly, glancing at the church as everyone inside began to stand up to go say their goodbyes.

Loki followed her gaze and asked measuredly, "…Do you want to go inside now?"

Cora pursed her lips and thought about that for a few seconds, soon shaking her head. "No… She's not in there anymore."

He watched her start to walk back down the street, her hands in her pockets and her gaze on the ground. Loki took one more look at the building of mourning before following her, attempting to come up with something to say. Despite it being a foolhardy fall of sentiment, she was still in pain.

Once he'd walked by her side for a few moments, children rushing up and down the street with parents or older siblings, he lifted his hand and pressed his fingertips against the inside of her wrist, drawing her hand from the pocket of her jeans. Before she could ask what he was doing, he slipped his hand into hers, holding it gently and then turning his gaze ahead again.

Cora's questions died on her lips as utter shock set in, her eyes dropping to their hands before she bit her lip and looked away, a flush rising to her face. Her fingers curled around his and she noticed how much colder his skin was than hers, despite the southern Californian heat. She decided it was kind of nice.

"Agent Barton to base," Clint murmured into his earpiece, watching their targets over the top of Coulson's head. "We've got ‘em."

Next chapter: Chapter 9, "Better"

[kachikirby]

GranEssex Chronicles: Chapter 20 -  Social Butterfly

It has been a few days since Erhard joined the crew of the GranEssex. Fettuccine had left to go back to her division, though they still kept in touch when they could. Right now though, Meta was at a lost to do as Kurabe was off ship at the moment and she didn't leave behind any orders for him. He was left completely to his own devices, which was a strange feeling for him. No missions to take, he already completed his training for the day and the people he usually interacted with were busy. Meta frowned and sighed, knowing that there was something he could do, something that Kurabe kept telling him to do.

"...I guess I should try socializing..."

Maybe he could check on Erhard? No, it might be busy, too. He had no choice now. His best bet was the newer recruits. Vul seemed easy enough to talk to.

"Guess I'll start with him and work my way to the others. That is if I can even find him."

That was the problem with Vul. He never really knew where he was. However... the bird strangely seemed to almost always know where he was.

"No matter. I'll find him eventually. For all I know he might be standing outside my room right now." He let out a sigh as he hopped off his bed and walked out his door.

"Do you usually talk to yourself or is that a just in your room type of deal?" A bird like voice said as soon as he stepped outside.

Meta stared at the source of the voice, which just happened to be the bird he was looking for. "...Why were you outside my room?" Meta asked, ignoring the fact that he heard him talk out loud.

"I asked you a question first. Isn't it rude to just ignore it?"

"...It's an in my room thing." He immediately blushed the moment Vul suppressed a laugh in response to that. "And what about you?" He quickly replied.

"I was just walking by when I heard you mumbling."

"But why did you listen in?"

Vul pointed at his ears. "Not like I can help it when these ears of mine pick up even the smallest sounds."

"I thought so, but you could've simply just ignored it and walked away!"

"I was, then you said you were going to look for me. So being the nice guy that I am I decided to not make you look for me."

This made Meta feel even more embarrassed. "So why did you want to find me anyway?"

The puff looked down. "...sensei wanted me to socialize more so I thought it would be easiest to talk to you first..."

"Alright then. So, what do you want to talk about?"

"...I don't know."

Vul laughed. "No wonder she told you to learn how to socialize. Let's start off small, what kind of things do you like?"

"Training and reading."

"Beyond all that man. Everyone knows that much about you. What's something else you got? Do you like swords or do you just seem them as just tools? Do you enjoy flying? Stuff like that."

"Well, I like swords, of course, and I love flying."

"See now we're getting somewhere. Now to really get a conversation, you need to go into detail. Tell me why exactly you like all those things."

"Well... um... I like swords because they're cool and they remind me of sensei."

"What else? What types of swords do you like?"

"Is there a point to all this?" Meta asked, slightly annoyed.

"Ah ha! There it is. You see, that's a common misconception. Not every conversation needs to a have a point. Simply talking about whatever can be more than enough at times. Besides, you're already feeling less awkward around me now, aren't you?"

"...yeah, I think so."

"Then keep talking. You'll find that people will listen to you more if you are invested in the conversation. So, I ask again, what types of swords do you like?"

"Short swords, mainly because they work the best with my height and fighting style. Beyond that I like the designs of ninjato and katanas. I also like great swords, though they aren't a sword type I'd personally use." Meta replied, surprised that I was actually easy for him to say all of that.

Vul chuckled. "I see you're the type that becomes a chatterbox when you have a subject you like."

"...Perhaps. What about you? What do you like?"

"I like collecting pipes, like the one I have in my mouth. They remind me of my pappy."

"So, you smoke?"

"No, it's all for decoration. The only thing that comes out of this pipe is bubbles."

"I see..." The youth had been told multiple times by his mentor that smoking is unhealthy and that he shouldn't do it.

"Besides, unlike you I don't use magic to fly. I need to keep my lungs in good shape or else flying would be a real pain in the rear."

"Is it true that your bones are thin, too?"

"Yeah, my species naturally has thin bones. It means were light creatures straight from birth, though our bones are much more fragile than the bones of other creatures."

Meta nodded. That was something he learned from his mentor. Many bird type creatures and monsters had thin bones to make them light enough to fly.

"What about you? You don't have any bones, right? How does your body even work?"

"I don't fully know myself. From what sensei said, our bones are just pure cartilage, making us very flexible."

"I think very flexible is an understatement. You could probably fit yourself under any crack in a door."

"If I had the right Copy Ability, probably."

Vul blew out a few bubbles. "How often do you even use Copy Abilities?"

"I technically use them whenever I fight. However, I'm using them in a way that makes me not need to inhale and swallow something first."

"Besides the ones you use, do you really use any other Copy Abilities?"

"...not really." He uttered.

"What are you being so quiet about? It's not like there's anything wrong with not using a lot of those abilities. I don't know much, but some of those abilities seems highly situational."

"It just makes me feel like I'm not reaching my full potential. Like I know some of them are definitely very situational, but then some I see sensei use them and I question that. Like she uses ESP to read the minds of others."

"Let me ask you a question. Do you have any actual interest in using ESP?"

The youth sighed. "Not really. The only thing it would really be good for is getting back at her."

"Then don't worry about it. It's as my pappy once told me. You'll receive more results if you actually like what you do. I mean look at you, you're better with lighting magic than anyone else I've seen use it. Not to mention you're easily one of the best fighters here."

"Yeah, that's true. I prefer to use lightning magic compared to others."

"Besides, do you really think you'd successfully mess with the captain even if you did have ESP?"

"...I wish I could..."

"Well, I know of a way to mess with her."

"Really?" The puff perked up in interest.

"Well, it's easy, in theory anyway. Next time she calls you cute or something, return the compliment."

"Why?"

"Well, would she expect it?"

"...Probably not." The youth then blinked. "...wait, that's what she said about flirting! Are you saying to flirt with sensei?!"

"Giving someone a compliment isn't the same thing as flirting ya goof."

"...it isn't?"

"No, where'd you get that idea?"

"...it just sounded similar to the advice that sensei gave me to combat Fettuccine's flirting."

"Well, it's not. Your only other way of getting back at her is not reacting to her. But I think my first suggestion would work out more easily for you."

"...I'll try that out then."

"Well, good, though you're gonna be waiting a while to do that. She's gonna be gone until tomorrow."

"Oh, did she go on another mission?"

"No, just the one she's on is like in another part of the galaxy."

"I see..."

"So, you're stuck with me, unless you want to go out searching for someone to join us."

"Well, sensei wants me to learn to interact with people more. So, I think that would be a good idea."

"Then get searching. You were lucky I just happened to be walking by."

"Would you like to come with me?"

He tilted his head in questioning. "I already was."

"I thought so." He said as he walked off.

"You don't know where to begin do you though?" The bird asked.

"I'll figure it out myself!"

"Well, I would hope so, would defeat the purpose if you didn't."

"I do!"

"You don't need to convince me, just actually go out and do it."

"I'm already going!" He said, now quickly walking away.

"You do know that's a dead end, right?"

"I know that!"

"Look, let's just head to the cafeteria. No doubt you'll find someone that wants to talk to you, considering how many fanboys and fangirls you have."

He blinked. "...I have fans?"

"Of course, you won that tournament. Practically everyone looks up to you after seeing how strong you are."

"...I see..."

"I'm not surprised you haven't noticed, considering how you're almost always on your own or training with the captain and vice captain."

"I don't do that all the time!"

"Right. You're also talking with that cotton candy friend of yours on the communicator, too."

"Why does everyone know about that? Whatever, I'll follow your suggestion. Let's go to the cafeteria."

"I always happen to hear you when you are." The bird replied as he followed after the puff.

"...I'm not going to pretend to know what I'm talking about, but are you interested in me or something?"

"What tipped you off?"

"Well, you always somehow being near me for one. Two, you're happy and have been happy ever since we started talking."

"Well, you're right. I am interested in you."

"...Would you like to be friends then? Like officially or whatever."

The bird chuckled. "You mean we aren't already?"

"Fair enough." Meta replied, slightly smiling.

---------

Soon, they reached the cafeteria which was of course packed.

"Well, who looks easy to talk to?" He wondered to himself.

"Hey, don't look at me!" Vul said.

"I wasn't. Hey, that's Crate over there, right?"

"Yeah, it is! And it looks like she's sitting by herself!"

"Well, I guess I'll talk to her then. Let's go." The bird nodded as he followed him to the dog.

"Um... hey, Crate." He uttered.

The giant boxer looked at Meta and smiled. "Hello there."

"Um... is anyone sitting here?" He asked.

"No." Meta nodded and sat down next to her.

"So... how are you?" "Hot. I just got done training."

"You should drink a lot of water then!"

"I've drunk 3 gallons of water."

"I... I see..."

"My species drinks more water than most because of our size and fur."

"Ok. What about ice cream?"

"I'm allergic to dairy, otherwise I would be eating a large bowl right about now."

"Pretty sure they have vegan flavors." Vul said.

"I've tried them, didn't care for it."

"Or water ice?"

"I don't know what that is."

"They're snow cones but better."

"Maybe later then."

Meta nodded silently. "So, what kind of things do you like?" He then asked.

"Hmm, I like poetry."

"Poetry? Interesting? Would you care to share a few poems with us?" Vul asked.

"Oh, well if you insist." She then cleared her throat. "They fight like heroes. All of their threats get taken down to zero. Like them I wish to be a hero. I'll work hard to not be a zero."

"That's quite good."

"Thank you." She then looked at Meta. "Not that I mind, but is there a reason you're here?"

"To...talk with you." He uttered, slightly embarrassed.

"Ok then. What about?"

"...I don't know..."

"Sensei, wants him to practice socialization." Vul explained.

"Ok. So, talk then, if you want to."

The youth nodded, but then looked nervous.

"Just act like you're talking to the cotton candy lady." The bird sighed.

"She has a name." He grumbled. "Crate, what else do you like?"

"Well, I like helping village whenever I can. Does that count?"

"I guess so..."

"I also like marshmallows. It's fun to squish them before eating them."

"Marshmallows are good." The puff replied.

"...that's strangely funny coming from you." Vul chuckled.

"Why? Because everyone compares Star Warriors to marshmallows?"

"Yeah."

"Well, fine then. Crate, do you train with anyone? You always seem to be on your own."

"I don't train with anyone."

"Why not? Even I spar with other soldiers."

"No one wants to spar with me."

"I've offered to spar with you before though?"

"I rather not burden you..."

"I'm the one that offered though."

"Still! I just feel bad for asking someone like you!"

"Why?"

"I'll just hold you back!"

"Uh, how? It's sparring. It's to both of our benefits."

"Just stop questioning it, ok?"

"Uh... alright."

Both Meta and Vul looked confused at that response.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine." Crate's mood seemed have taken a complete 180, confusing them more.

"Well, alright." Meta looked at Vul, who seemed to be thinking the same thing as him. "Well, if that's all, we should get going." Meta then said.

"Wait, I have a question for you now. What do you think of sensei?" Crate suddenly asked.

"Well... I have a lot of respect for her. If I'm going to be completely honest, I would be dead if it wasn't for her."

"Ok, I see. I think she's inspiring."

"Yeah, I think so, too. She's so brave and strong, but she's also kind and gentle."

"Yes, she's definitely a good leader."

"I hope to become someone like her someday." Meta sighed as he got up. "Well, I guess we'll see you later, Crate."

"Wait, a minute!" Crate suddenly said.

"What?"

"Um... would you... like to walk around the ship for a while?" She asked nervously.

Meta looked a bit surprised, but didn't see anything wrong with that. "Sure. Are you fine with that, Vul?"

"Well, as long as we talk during it, you'll still be getting socialization practice."

"Yeah, I know. Are you fine with doing more walking?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Alright, come on then you two." Meta said as he started walking. The duo nodded and joined him.

---------

As they walked around Meta noticed something about his new companion. "Crate, you must be excited about walking, aren't you?"

"Oh, that's because I haven't explored much of the ship!" She then paused. "How did you tell?"

"All Star Warriors can sense emotions." He replied simply.

She seemed to hesitate for a moment. "All emotions?"

"Yes. Joy, sorrow, anger, calm, love, even combinations of those emotions."

"I see..."

"Why? You seem a bit concerned by that."

"Oh, it's nothing."

"Well, alright." Meta replied, deciding to just drop it.

As the group walked around, Crate spoke up again. "Do you know if sensei has any set schedule when she returns from a mission? Like a ritual?"

"Not really. She usually returns whenever she feels like. If anything, she's almost always back before nine PM. But sometimes she comes back after, but usually she's good at getting home before then."

"Does she do anything when she returns?"

"Depends. Sometimes she goes straight to bed, sometimes she gets in some training. She doesn't really have a schedule; she just does whatever she wants."

"Is there like a most likely schedule, though? Like does she shower or eat or go straight to bed."

"I wouldn't know. Why are you so curious about it?"

"I think I'd like to ask her a few things."

"Like what?"

"Private matters."

"Like what kind?"

"It's private for a reason you know. You never know if there's a spy around."

"A spy? I sincerely doubt we have any of those."

"But are you sure about that?"

Meta frowned. "Are you sure that there is one?"

"There might be. You never know."

"In other words, you don't actually know. Crate, you need to stop being so paranoid." The puff told her, giving her a look of suspicion.

"O-Oh right. You're probably right. I'm just nervous about the possibility of one."

The youth stared at her for a moment, but then sighed, as if to accept that answer. Meta then stopped, looking around.

"What's up?" Vul asked.

"I sense someone, hey, whose there?" He called out.

From behind them, in the hallway, a strange humanoid wearing... what Meta could only describe as a disastrous marriage between traditional kimono and modern clothing sauntered out, holding a folded fan to their lips, as if it was some kind of stage performance.

"Who are you?" Meta asked, not really sure about what he was looking at.

"Ah, finally! I was wondering where I could get some service here! Do you know how long I have been walking around here to get some semblance of a welcome? Here, take my coat."

What confused Meta even more was that the man only made the motion of taking off a coat before tossing it to him, essentially taking nothing off.

"I repeat, who are you?" Meta asked again, even more confused. Vul was just as confused as well.

"Just a wandering traveler." He bluntly replied.

"Wandering travelers don't just end up on a military vessel. Who are you?"

"That..." He posed strangely, covering one of his eyes with his fan. "Is up to you to figure out, young man."

Meta glared at him. "Just give me a straight answer."

"Impatient, are you?" He mumbled, fanning himself for a moment before sitting seiza style in front of the group and slamming his fan down on the ground. "My name is Shinkiro. I am merely a visiting performer. It is good to meet your acquaintance, O crabby Prince of Shadows."

Meta just stared at him. "Hello."

Shinkiro equally stared and sigh. "...tough crowd I see. You're a lot crankier than the Lady of Shadows described you."

"If I'm cranky it's only because you took forever with answering my question. And how do you know my sensei?"

"Anyone at the main base would know Z's little girl." He bluntly replied.

"Do you enjoy not giving straight answers? Whatever, so you are an Organization member then? Why are you here?"

"Does a member of the Organization need a reason to be on an organization ship?"

"I suppose not, but normally one does have a reason."

"...fantastic. Because I honestly don't remember why I came here."

"...How?"

"How does one forget something?"

Meta sighed. Talking to normal people was already a challenge, this is just even more of one. "Shinkiro, was it? What species are you? I've never seen anyone like you before."

"Glad you asked. I am what's known as a Chaogean." The three soldiers all looked at him questioningly.

"I don't think I've read about that one."

"I shouldn't be surprised you are confused, because not many people have apparently heard of us." Shinkiro uttered, tapping his head. "Tell me. If you were able to gain strength from your conviction, what would you think?"

Meta looked confused. "What do you mean by conviction?"

"Your conviction. Your belief. Your faith. Something you believe wholeheartedly and use as your drive for life."

"I get that, but what does that have to do with my question? I asked about Chaogeans."

"It has very much to do with us Chaogeans. Our powers come from our convictions."

"So, every Chaogean has a unique ability then?"

"Exactly."

"What's yours then?"

Shinkiro grinned. "My conviction is..." He paused, likely for dramatic effect. "The world is a stage, and the people are its actors!"

Meta however was unimpressed. "Meaning?"

"Do you really want to know?" The man uttered.

"I have a vague feeling that you will regardless of what I say."

Shinkiro, however, looked dead serious as he said that. Meta sighed.

"Just tell me please. I'm tired of not receiving a straight answer."

"It's easier to show you." A strange marking then began to appear on his eyes. "I, Shinkiro, command you to reveal at least 5 of your secrets!"

Meta didn't say anything, confused as to what was happening. Vul on the other hand... "I actually like the taste of fried chicken, I'm afraid of heights, I don't know how to tie shoes, I'm allergic to garlic, and I once blew up a shed with a makeshift pipe bomb."

Seeing this, Shinkiro explained. "I can force anyone who makes direct eye contact with me to follow any order I give them."

"I see...Why didn't it work on me then?" Meta asked, patting the back of an extremely embarrassed Vul.

"Perhaps your conviction is somehow stronger than mine." He then scratched his head. "Though that's strange. Usually, it would appear as a suggestion then."

"It did. I hear a voice suggesting I do it, but I didn't have the inclination to actually do it." Meta said then he looked at Crate. "What about you?"

"Oh me? I blinked when it happened, so I guess I'm just unaffected by it."

"Perhaps."

"No, your little big dog friend is right. Eye contact is a necessity for my power to work."

"Is that so? That seems a bit like an oversight." The puff uttered.

"HA! Excellent wordplay young, crabby prince of Shadows."

The youth stared in confusion at those words.

"You said oversight and his ability relies on sight." Vul whispered so only Meta could hear.

"Oh, I see." He whispered back.

"Yes, it is an oversight, but like how an actor can have a wardrobe malfunction, not everything can be controlled all the time."

"Yeah..." Meta knew that feeling too well.

"But it's fine, for an actor can get through anything with effort." He then laughed, making Meta internally question if all members of the Organization were this eccentric. The images of his mentor flashed through his head, making him come to a definitive answer to that question.

"...of course they all are." He thought.

"So... what is my conviction?" Meta asked.

"That's something for you to figure out on your own. But a word of advice, what you seek may not be too far away from you."

"...I see..." The youth uttered.

"Well, it was nice meeting you crabby prince. Till we meet again!" Shinkiro said, dramatically hopping away on one foot.

"...well, that was weird." Vul said after the man was out of sight.

"Weird is normal around here." Meta said under his breath.

"Well, where to now?" The bird then asked.

"Crate, have you been shown where the armory is?"

"No, I would like to see it."

Meta nodded. "I'm surprised you haven't yet. It was one of the first places sensei showed me."

"Well, the ship was quite busy at the time I joined, so I didn't get to see it."

"I suppose that makes sense. How about you, Vul? Have you been there?"

"Briefly. I didn't stay for too long because I thought it would be better to have a proper guide in there. As for why sensei didn't show me, she apparently had something more important to worry about."

"Yeah, that makes sense."

Vul then paused. "If you don't mind me asking, what was the important thing?"

"Me. She was helping me cope with watching allies die in front of me."

Both his allies stared in shock.

"Hm? What's wrong?" Meta asked.

"Are... you serious...?" Vul uttered.

"Serious about what? Me watching my comrades die?"

"Yes, did that actually happen?"

"Do I seem the type to lie about something like that?"

"No! Just... it feels unbelievable..."

"It's probably also because there were no reported casualties on the mission a few months ago."

"Well, it happened. And what do you mean unbelievable? We're soldiers, death is common in this profession. I learned that the hard way."

"How did it happen if there was no report of it?"

"Not everything gets reported. Especially when it happened with another divisions crew. The updates you get here publicly only relate to combat division personnel. Full details are for the captain and vice captain as well as those involved only."

Both Vul and Crate seemed to jump back a bit at that somewhat angry reply.

"Now come on. We have an armory to look at."

The duo looked at each other before following along.

---------

As they walked along, one of the allies spoke up again.

"So can you tell us what happened?" Crate asked.

"I can."

"Will you then?"

"No." He replied quickly.

"Better just drop the subject, Crate." Vul whispered to her.

She silently nodded. "Well, what would you like to talk about?"

"Literally anything else."

The duo seemed to sigh at that.

"Then how about you decide on the subject. You need to learn to socially interact, right?" Vul said.

"I don't need to learn, I need to get better. But fine. Vul, what weapons do you like?"

"Same idea, mate. As for my preferred weapons, it's the crossbow."

"Anything else?"

"Anything with range, honestly."

Meta nodded. "Why a crossbow specifically?"

"It just feels a lot more accurate and faster to use than a bow and arrow."

"True, on average crossbows are far superior, especially in a one-on-one scenario. Though that's not to say normal bows don't have advantages. With crossbows you can only fire one arrow at a time. Regular bows can fire potentially up to five, maybe even more arrows at a time. Which in turn makes them slightly better for dealing with a crowd."

The bird chuckled. "You know a lot for someone so obsessed with swords. But yes, I can use both if needed."

"I'm interested in all types of weapons. Swords are just my favorite. Do you have any method of fighting up close?"

"Fists and using a knife."

Meta nodded. "That's good. What kind of knife? I can give you recommendations if you want to try a new type."

"A standard army knife. Any recommendations would be great."

"For you, I suggest a Barong Machete. They cover a good distance and are good for wood cutting as well as cutting down foes. Multipurpose."

"I see. I'll have to look into getting one."

Meta nodded. "Crate, what about you?"

"Oh, I don't use weapons. My fists are strong enough."

Meta frowned. "Bad idea. Fighting hard to hand fine. But you should look into wearing gauntlets. It'll increase your damage output and keep your fists guarded."

"I see... can you help me pick those out?"

"Of course."

Crate smiled. "Thank you."

"What about you?" Vul asked.

"I can use spears, staffs, axes, bows, gauntlets. Practically any standard issue weapon. It's when we get to more...unique weapons where my expertise is more limited. Items like fans or nunchaku, I can use them but not as well as more standard weapons."

"And swords?" The bird asked with a grin.

"That goes without saying." He grinned back.

"Come to think of it, why do you love swords so much?"

"They are straight forward. With other weapons there's various factors that go into using them. Not with swords though. Regardless of type, all swords follow the same principle. Stab and pierce. No fancy gimmicks, no immediate advantage or disadvantage. Just a simple blade, and it's up to the user to use it to its full potential. A sword is malleable, fitting for almost any scenario. Much like a Star Warrior."

Vul blinked. "Wow, I didn't know swords were that variable."

"Of course. Regardless of the Era, intelligent civilizations have always used swords."

"And here I thought it was because sensei used them." Crate uttered.

"No. Even before I met her, I liked swords. I was already accustomed to them, even if all I had were rusty swords I took from the bodies of thieves that tried to kill me. A sword was a sword."

"I see. I just thought you did with how much you seemed to respect her."

"No. I respect her greatly that much is true. But I'm me, not her."

"Of course. Now, what do you like about her?"

"That's an odd question, considering I expressed my admiration for her earlier. But I like mostly everything about her."

"Ah... my mistake. Is there anything you don't like about her?"

"Not particularly. It annoys me when she picks on me, but I don't necessarily dislike it either."

"Why don't you dislike it?"

"Because it comes from a place of concern. She cares about me, I know she messes with me because she cares. I might get annoyed at her, but it never goes beyond annoyance."

Crate was silent.

"Anyway, we're here." Meta announced.

"Meta, what's in that room over there?" Vul asked.

"Hm? Oh, that's the ship's reactor. The door is password protected."

"I assume only the Bukisets, the captain, and vice captain know?" The bird then asked.

"Pretty much."

"I understand the captain and vice captain, but why the Bukisets?" Crate asked.

"They do maintenance." Meta said as if it was common knowledge, which it was supposed to be.

"I see."

"I bet the captain told you at point. What is it?" Vul asked.

"I don't know." Meta said seriously.

"Really, I would of thought that she would tell you."

The puff shrugged. "It is what it is." He then replied, keeping his knowledge to himself. He found it amusing. "Now come on, let's look inside the armory now." The group nodded and entered it.

---------

Upon entering the room, the duo noticed one thing about the room.

"It's hot." Vul stated, sweating like a turkey in summer.

"There's a giant furnace in here. We make our own weapons, so of course it'll be hot. Don't worry, we won't be here long."

"Good..." Crate panted.

"Now get looking. The sooner you see everything the sooner you can leave."

They nodded and began to walk around.

"There's so many weapons. I know we're the combat division, but still..." Vul commented at his surroundings.

"Yeah, I was surprised at first as well." The puff replied.

"Can we leave now?" Crate asked.

"If you're done looking, yes."

"I am. Can we go? I can feel my sweat having sweat of its own."

"Ok, then we can leave."

The moment those words left the puff's mouth, both of his friends practically sprinted to the door, making him stare at them in confusion.

---------

After everyone left as fast as possible, the puff heard another voice.

"Hey, Meta, I've noticed something." Vul said.

"What is it?"

"For someone who's not much of a talker, you sure are good at leading others."

"Really?" The puff asked.

"Yeah, I mean you're getting us to do everything you say right?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, I guess."

"Will you be taking over this division in the future?" Crate asked.

"I don't know. I'd rather focus on the me of now instead of the me of then."

"Well, if people are calling ya the Prince of Shadows, wouldn't that be the case?" Vul questioned.

"No? I don't see what a nickname I had no say in having has to do with anything. She was called the lady of shadows before she became a captain. Titles are just titles, nothing more."

"It implies you're her successor."

"No, it doesn't. If I end up being her successor, it's because I choose to be, not because people expect me to become her successor. I'm my own person. I decide what I want for myself."

"Then would you want to be her successor?"

"I just said I don't know. I'm young. I have a lot to learn before I consider taking her position.

"I see..." Vul uttered.

"What about you Vul? Do you know what you want to do?"

"I thought about being a captain once in a while, but I think you're much better at that."

"Perhaps. But Captain Vul has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

The bird hummed upon hearing that. "Yeah... yeah... that sounds good."

"What about you, Crate?"

"Oh, I haven't figured that out yet!" She replied nervously.

"That's fine. There's no need to be nervous about it."

"Are you the same way, Meta?"

"Again, I already said I don't know what I want. I still have a lot to learn about the universe."

"Have you talked to sensei about it?"

"Of course I have. She told me literally what I've been telling you two. I have my whole life to figure out what I want."

The duo nodded.

"So, what about relationships?" Crate suddenly asked.

"What about them?"

"Do you have anyone you're interested in?"

"In what way?"

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Vul said bluntly, making Crate blush.

"I have female friends. yes. I don't see why that matters."

The bird laughed. "You are so naive... are you dating a girl?"

"No."

"...really? Not even that cotton candy friend of yours?"

"She's my friend, nothing else to it."

The bird grinned. "Are you suuureeee?"

"Yes."

"Doesn't seem like it." He chuckled.

"You can think whatever you want."

"I think that he is that oblivious..." Crate whispered.

"No kidding." Vul whispered back.

The puff looked confused. "Well, whatever. What about you, Vul?"

"Admittedly, I'm not too interested." The bird shrugged.

"Fine. You Crate?"

"...nope."

"You sure? You hesitated a little, not even Meta did that."

"I don't have one!"

"Yeesh, not even Meta was that defensive. There's definitely someone now."

"You're just imagining things!"

"That's enough, both of you." Meta commanded.

Both of them became quiet.

"Good. Now Crate, where else haven't you been?"

"How about you just take me to a place you like?"

Meta sighed and shook his head. "Fine. Follow me."

The duo nodded and followed after him.

---------

They came to a very narrow hallway and a closed, blocked off passageway.

"Meta, what is this place?" Crate asked as they arrived.

"The airlock." He answered simply.

"What's the airlock?"

Meta and Vul both looked at her with a confused expression.

"The airlock. It locks the air. It keeps us from being sucked out into space. All massive space battleships have one."

"I see. So, if this opens, then we'll get sucked out into space?"

"Not exactly. Behind this door is a bigger glass door. If that opens, then we'll get sucked out."

"Have you ever been beyond that door?"

"No, because then there's just outer space."

"Really? You think Kurabe would have you do some training there."

"No? There's no gravity out there. That would be counterproductive to the weights I wear during training. Plus, while I can breathe in space, not everyone can. Sensei treats everyone fairly. Sensei might put us through intense training, but she's not a savage. She would never put someone in a scenario where they could die just for training."

"...debatable." Vul grumbled.

"Have you been put in a deadly scenario while training?"

"Well, no."

"Then it's not debatable."

"You sure, though? She can be a drill sergeant with her training." Crate said.

"I said she's not a savage. She has never crippled anyone or gotten someone gravely injured during training. Being a drill sergeant is normal behavior for a drill sergeant. Because that's what she is."

"Are you sure she hasn't crippled anyone?"

"Yes. I've been here longer than both of you. I'm friends with someone who has been here longer than me. We both know that no one has ever gotten crippled by her. You can even check sensei's public record. It'll say the same thing." He then cleared his throat. "We're getting off topic. I took us here for a reason."

"Why's that?"

"Because look out the window. The view outside is beautiful."

Both Vul and Crate turned to the window and the youth was indeed right about that.

"I like to come here and watch the stars move by."

"I can see why. The view is beautiful." Vul uttered.

Meta nodded. "Vul. Do you think I've gotten better with talking?"

The bird chuckled. "If you ask me, I think you made a bit of progress today. But don't get frustrated if you think you're going too slowly. Just keep at it."

"Right. If anything, that strange man from earlier was good for talking practice."

"Yeah. Especially if you're gonna deal with all kinds of nuts in the Organization."

"I have a feeling I'll be dealing with nut jobs no matter what happens in my life." With that said, Meta turned away. "I'm getting tired. I think I'll call it a day."

"Fair enough, I'm pretty sure dealing with that Cha... whatever drained you enough." Vul laughed.

"I trained for eight hours. So yes, I'm fairly drained." He said with a smile.

"I'll see you two later then."

"Yeah, see ya later. Meta. Hope you have a good rest." The bird replied as their dog friend waved as well. With a smile, the puff returned to his room to rest.

-

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Toyhouse Page for Shinkiro

[cryptidsurveys]

Wednesday, August 21st, 2024.

What was the last gift you received? I believe it was an assortment of Easter chocolates from my mom.

Ten years ago, who was your best friend? Are you still best friends now? Oliver, and yes, we're still best friends.

What are some of your comfort foods? My comfort foods greatly overlap with my "safe foods," so things like oatmeal, yogurt bowls, mixed veggies with sriracha sauce, and giant salads.

What’s something that’s very popular, that you have no interest in? Superhero movies. <- Same. In general, I feel like I'm out of the loop when it comes to popular things. Even niche popular things, tbh. I will occasionally catch a reference, but that's about it. I very much have my own little realm of interests.

What’s something that many people would consider to be lame, but you don’t? I don't think many people would consider these things lame, but maybe they just aren't as interested in them as I am. Subjects such as history, philosophy, religion, outer space, sci-fi, conspiracies, etc.

Have you ever lost your house key? I probably have at some point.

How would you describe your clothing style? Dangerously bordering on pajamas. ;D

The last time you were in a line, what were you waiting for? Snacks at the movie theater.

What’s your favorite city in your own country? I'm not much of a city person (I much prefer woodsy, rural, mountainous areas), but as far as places I've visited, San Francisco.

What’s your favorite city in another country? I've never been to another country before, but I could actually see myself enjoying a trip to Tokyo, Japan. For some reason, that city just feels…different.

Are there any very common foods/drinks that you pretty much never consume? Soda, plain milk, seafood, hot dogs, sushi…

What kind of device are you taking this survey on? A desktop computer.

What’s the most expensive thing you own? My car.

When was the last time you had a package delivered, and what was it? I think it was some solar-powered string lights. I've been meaning to hang them up around the window in my bedroom; I've just been too lazy or distracted to bother.

Do you typically respond to text messages right away? Not unless they require an immediate response (such as being called in to the shelter). Otherwise, I have a tendency to procrastinate.

What has been the highlight of this past month? Animal shelter stuff, the kitten saga (I don't know if I've mentioned it here yet, but we found his home! <3), going to a movie with my mom, and all the rain we've been getting.

Has anyone ever assumed you were flirting with them, when you weren’t? I guess it's possible.

What types of stores do you enjoy browsing? Walmart, Big Lots, thrift stores, Barnes & Noble…basically anywhere with books or inexpensive home goods/clothing.

Did your parents spoil you when you were a kid? We were comfortably middle class, but I wouldn't say I was spoiled.

Would you rather watch a movie in the theater, or at home? I've actually been enjoying watching them in theaters these days.

What were you doing one hour ago? I was in therapy.

Have you ever used public transportation to get to work? I haven't.

What do you miss the most from before Covid times? This isn't specifically related to Covid, but I do miss when things weren't so tense and divisive.

What has been the best thing to happen to you in the past year? I've said it so many times now that I'm even starting to annoy myself. ;D

Who do you have listed as emergency contacts in your phone? I don't have anyone listed as an emergency contact. But the only people I have programmed in there at all are my mom and dad, so hopefully someone will get the picture.

Are you prone to jealousy? Less so than in the past, but still to some degree. I think I'm just better at recognizing it now and reacting appropriately.

How did you get through the lowest point in your life? I just…survived, I guess. Like literally - that's it. I dearly wished for death, but my body simply refused to give up. But life doesn't stay static forever, so things eventually improved enough to allow for more than mere survival.

Have you ever been someone’s first love? Yeah.

Have you ever played frisbee golf? Yeah.

What is your favorite silly, feel-good movie? I don't have one.

How old were you when you got your first gaming console, and what kind was it? I think my parents already had the original Nintendo when I was born, so I'll go with the N64, which I think we got for Xmas when I was around 6-7?

Who in your family has the coolest job? My parents are both retired. Last I knew, my sibling wasn't working. I guess I'm the only one who is sort of working, even if it is on a volunteer basis. I think working at an animal shelter is pretty darn cool, though, not gonna lie.

Is cereal technically a soup? I saw somewhere that a vanilla soy latte is basically a three bean soup. ;D

Have you found your first gray hairs yet. Yeah.

What is something that drains your energy really quickly? Negative social interactions (when people are really angry, grumpy, etc). On the flipside, positive social interactions can supercharge me.

Did you parents teach you how to make a budget before you moved out on your own? I haven't moved out on my own yet.

What is your favorite food to put gravy on? Mashed potatoes, turkey, stuffing…basically, a classic Thanksgiving dinner.

Do you know anyone from Canada? No.

What’s your opinion on astrology? Love any opportunity to blame some bullshit on """the stars""".

Do you use TikTok? No.

What do you have going on the rest of the day? I'm going to make some art after this, then have lunch, then housecleaning, then…idk, we'll see how this headache is holding up by then.

[laceyjane44]

GaaSaku 2023 FanFest Day4

Prompt: Medic

(AU)

“Come on, Gaara,” she groaned. “Not tonight.”

“Just give me ten minutes?” he pleaded; his hands, hot and sweaty as they were, grasped at her own. He held her fingers gingerly and brought them to his lips, speaking against them, “I promise it won’t take long.”

Sakura rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, pulling her hand from his and wiping the sweat from them. “I know it won’t,” she agreed. “You remember what happened last time? I do.”

Gaara chuckled. “You know I’ve been practicing, I’ve gotten better,” he countered, stating his case for the umpteenth time that day.

Sakura couldn’t help but glance back to the open mat behind him where Lee could be seen shadow boxing in the studio mirror, checking his form. “So? The whole team has been practicing for nationals. He’s gotten better, too,” Sakura stated back, a tempered warning in her words. She learned very early in their relationship that no one in the dojo was going to keep that bloated ego of his in check if she didn’t. Being top players in the division and instructors at the dojo, he and his colleagues were often left uncontested unless against one another. Gaara though, no matter how much she loved him and admired his proficiency in weapons specialties, just wasn’t a match for Lee in point sparing. “You were nearly concussed last time, and,” she emphasized by pulling him a little closer by the sleeve of his gi. “He had you down after three rounds.”

Gaara thinned his lips trying to hold back his smirk, but as usual he failed. “Ten more minutes,” he said as he stepped closer, slipping around the subject while slipping his hands around her waist. He pulled her against him. “And then whatever you want tonight is yours.”

Sakura turned her face when he bent down to kiss her, though it didn’t deter him from pressing his nose against her hair and breathing in the scent of her shampoo. It was a promise she had heard before and one that he was all too eager to uphold. Usually, it paid off to go along with it; another hour for practice here, another spar with Naruto there, and the rest of her evening was filled with his undivided attention. Gaara loved giving her said attention, and he was more than equipped to do so.

Having been in taekwondo since he was a young boy, Gaara had earned his blackbelt by the age of twelve and had known nothing outside the world of competitions, perfection of form, and intense physical training. He’d been making a living by winning weapons competitions across the country before he went up against the top competitor from Uzumaki Dojo and quickly found himself with a shiny new medal and recruitment to a full-time gig at the best studio in town. The Uzumaki’s had made a name for themselves and they fared no less when their son took over the business. They had a large facility that hosted anything from beginner level classes in Tai Chi and kick boxing, to expert level martial arts specialization fit for competitions at national levels, even global some years. Given the intensity of some of their programs, Sakura had been hired a few years back as an onsite RN that also had a license in physical therapy and massage therapy. She was an invaluable asset to the dojo and played a key role in keeping their fighters in shape for competition.

That was how Gaara found his way into her life; a series of overblown sprains and pulled muscles that had him seeking her out once or twice a week until she finally broke down and accused him of purposely monopolizing her time, to which he responded by stating that he wouldn’t have to if she would just go out with him, and he’d been showering her with his attention ever since.

But a tussle with Lee would leave him in no condition to do so, she was absolutely sure of it, and she preferred they start their weekend without a care regiment. Sakura wasn’t a fan of bringing her work home with her, but with Gaara moved in, it followed her home more often than not these days.

So, she tried a different approach.

Looking back up, she pushed her weight forward and leaned against him, those green doe eyes of hers blinking at him as she pouted. “You promised we would spend the night together,” she mumbled with a half-hearted whine, reminding him that with nationals coming up, their free time together at home was dwindling. Gaara ran his fingers through her hair, openly enjoying her methods. “You were going to take me to dinner.”

“My love, you know I will,” Gaara practically purred in response as he bent down and kissed her forehead. “Just be patient.”

She huffed and broke away from him to sit down on the benches beside the mats. He gave her a wink and readjusted his gi before joining Lee. They both seemed too eager for an honest rematch with each other as far as Sakura was concerned, as were some of the seasoned students and other senseis that gathered at the edges of the mat to watch.

Naruto and Hinata, their employers and the owners of Uzumaki Dojo, joined her at the bench. They had dismissed the last class of the day and came over to see what the excitement was all about. Being the procurers of the talent employed by the dojo, as well as one of their competing specialists in form, Naruto stepped over to referee their match.

All the onlookers, Sakura and Hinata included, were watching quietly for the first round. It lasted less than thirty seconds before Lee landed enough strikes to end it and get his first point, no shocker there, and Gaara quickly called for the start of the next round, already returning to stance.  

“Is Gaara looking to compete in point sparring at nationals this year?” Hinata asked, her sentence punctuated by the sharp Si-jak called out by her husband.

Sakura shook her head, bobbing her heel on the ground as the air filled with the sounds of sliding feet and deflected strikes. “No, sticking to his usual,” she said with a sigh. “He’s just trying to fix that sore pride Lee gave him.”

“Point, Lee!” Naruto called out. Gaara cursed and his opponent was all too eager to encourage him to try again, to try harder. “Bah ro!”

“I don’t know,” Hinata mused thoughtfully, tilting her head to throw Sakura a side-glance.

“Si-jak!” The next round started, Gaara was certainly putting greater force behind his strikes, and he’d gotten faster at deflecting Lee’s blows, but Lee had been busy keeping everyone in his dust.

“It has been a while,” Hinata continued. “I have a feeling he just wants to relive the nostalgia.”

Another point to Lee, another call for return to start. Round four; they certainly weren’t wasting any time, and she had to at least give him credit for the new personal record against Lee.

Sakura looked over to her and couldn’t help but laugh. “Of getting kicked in the head?”

Shaking her head, Hinata explained, “You know he wasn’t even aware we had an onsite medic until you needed to monitor him for symptoms of concussion?”

Sakura nodded; oh yes, she definitely remembered. She had been late to work that day with car troubles and received a call while at the mechanics; Lee overdid it with the new guy and they were wondering what the warning signs of a head injury were. She left her car at the shop and immediately called for a taxi, all the while running through some questions with Naruto over the phone. Arriving as soon as she could, she walked into work only to hear Gaara barking from the back rooms that he didn’t need to be looked at and he was fine. He obviously hadn’t dealt with defeat much, he was also visibly surprised when she was introduced to him as his coworker, and she’d certainly had her hands full with him after that.  

“Hurt pride or not; I think that was his favorite day at work to date.” She smiled over to her friend, a rare and mischievous expression crossing her face. “It’s not often you get a girlfriend as a consolation prize.”

Sakura looked away from the teasing in Hinata’s eyes only to see her lover take a swift elbow strike to the side of the face followed by a side kick to the ribs. Failing to counter the kick left him open for another set of blows to the ribs and that finished off the points needed for the fourth round to be Lee’s win.

Gaara’s back found the mats soon after and Lee laughed as he collided with the ground. “I’m sorry, man! I thought you’d keep up.”

Gaara groaned for him to shut up as he leaned up on an elbow and clutched his side. He looked over to his girlfriend from his spot on the floor, eagerly looking for her sympathy while feigning more pain than he was likely actually in. She became convinced that Hinata had been right; if losing against Lee meant reliving the first day they met, he’d be happy to taste that defeat again.

Somewhat apologetically, Lee looked across the mat to where Hinata could be seen grabbing the first-aid bag from beside the bench and jokingly handing it over to Sakura, and he called out, “Medic!”

Thanks for reading!

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaceyJane

FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2120361/WiccadBaltane0501

[preggodaddy959]

Do you have any recommendations for someone wanting to start a pregnancy rp on their blog?

idk if you're still around, I've been sitting on this one for a while trying to think of the best way to answer your question, so here it goes!

First of all--

DISCLOSE THAT IT'S A FCKING RP !!!!!

If you only retain one (1) thing from this answer, PLEASE let it be this one!!

Obviously in pregnancy rps, we're glossing over a lot of details-- the minutae, and the less than fun aspects. Sort of a suspension of disbelief thing. If you don't disclose that, people could read your posts and think that pregnancy is all uwu fun and cutesy and rainbows shoot out your ass when it is in fact one of the hardest things a human can go through. It also helps discourage people from thinking that because you're sharing intimate (emotionally and/or spicy) details about your "pregnancy" that it's okay to ask that of other actually pregnant people. I know others have spoken about this subject as well and if anyone remembers who they are, please tag them or link the post on this subject!

Lecturing about the proper division of keeping RP separate from IRL and such aside--

Let people know it's coming. Even if you're playing it as unplanned / surprise, giving people warning allows them to decide to tap out if they want to. This is part of why I like having a dedicated tag for it-- on this blog I used "summer baby rp"; on my actual rp blog I use a number system. Tags let people blacklist / whitelist if they need to, and also helps keep things organized.

I like to encourage participation. I do little "AMAs" and answer questions and include updates about my "pregnancies." I also think it got a lot more fun when I posted throughout the birth (if you're including birth in the rp itself).

If anyone else has any thoughts on the matter feel free to chime in! And OP if you're still around and wanting to do it, I hope you have fun and keep us in the loop. I for one would love to play along!

[us-laws-you-should-know]

Marijuana Legality: The Quick(er) Version

A few days ago, I started writing a very long, very detailed post about marijuana legality state by state... and it got eaten by tumblr's drafts features.

This post is going to be the Cliff Notes version of that post.

First off, Wikipedia's Legality of cannabis by U.S. jurisdiction page is an excellent resource for this. It doesn't capture everything, but it captures a lot, and you can always go to linked pages for individual states and/or check the linked sources for more information.

The short(ish) version:

Under federal law, specifically the Controlled Substances Act, marijuana is a Schedule I drug and cannot be prescribed or possessed legally aside from a very tightly-controlled quota for scientific research purposes. This scheduling includes language stating that marijuana "has no currently accepted medical use" and "[t]here is a lack of accepted safety for use of the drug or other substance under medical supervision", which is... arguable.

There is a process for changing drugs, including marijuana, to a less restrictive schedule under the Controlled Substances Act or removing them as a controlled substance altogether. But that process hasn't happened for marijuana so far.

Technically, this supersedes state and local law on the subject; state law can be more restrictive than federal law, but not less restrictive, or else the whole idea of federal law governing the whole country is moot. Theoretically, that means that federal police could arrest anyone, anywhere, for marijuana possession under the Controlled Substances Act, regardless of what local authorities say on the matter.

Realistically, that's highly unlikely. Any case where someone gets arrested for marijuana in a state that says it's okay is practically asking for a Supreme Court case on the matter, and said Supreme Court ruling would inevitable be controversial and divisive, and right now everybody's content to just... pretend the federal law doesn't exist when the state says otherwise. Probably some years down the line such a Supreme Court case will indeed happen and cause a shift to the current murky and unstable status quo, but it's highly unlikely that said Supreme Court case will star you, random marijuana user. (And if it does, well, upside is there's bound to be a bunch of folks willing to represent you for free just to get in on the action!)

Also, the federal police are busy, and hey, if they don't have to worry about marijuana use in a large chunk of the country, that just gives them more time to go after other kinds of federal criminals.

So, if state law's what matters, what do the states say?

Again, I point you to the Wikipedia page outlining exactly this. (It's most of what I'm using for a resource here myself.)

Recreational use of marijuana is legal in 24 states (Alaska, Arizona, California, Colorado, Connecticut, Delaware, Illinois, Maine, Maryland, Massachusetts, Michigan, Minnesota, Missouri, Montana, Nevada, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, Ohio, Oregon, Rhode Island, Vermont, Virginia, and Washington state), three U.S. territories (Guam, Northern Mariana Islands, and U.S. Virgin Islands), and Washington D.C. Note that Ohio's measure here is newly passed and doesn't actually take effect until December 7, 2023, three days from now.

Commercial distribution is legal everywhere that recreational use is legal except Virginia and Washington D.C.

Personal cultivation for recreational use is legal everywhere that recreational use is legal except Delaware, Illinois, New Jersey, and Washington state.

Recreational use is decriminalized in Hawaii, Louisiana, New Hampshire, and North Dakota.

Medicinal use of marijuana is legal in 38 states (the recreational use ones, plus Alabama, Arkansas, Florida, Kentucky, Oklahoma, Pennsylvania, South Dakota, Utah, and West Virginia), four U.S. territories (the recreational use ones plus Puerto Rico), and Washington D.C.

Medicinal use is decriminalized in Nebraska and North Carolina.

Iowa gets a special shout-out here for allowing medicinal marijuana, but not allowing any actual distributors of said medicinal marijuana in the state; medicinal marijuana patients need to go out-of-state to get their marijuana supplies, but those supplies remain legal upon bringing them back to Iowa.

Personal cultivation for medicinal use is legal everywhere that recreational cultivation is legal plus Illinois, Washington state, Hawaii, Oklahoma, and South Dakota.

Marijuana remains illegal for both medicinal and recreational use in ten states: Georgia (though several cities/counties in Georgia have decriminalized it), Idaho, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, Wisconsin, and Wyoming, and also the territory of American Samoa. Everywhere but American Samoa has some exception for CBD oil, though, with limits on the percentage of THC present.

A number of Native American reservations have also legalized marijuana use, either recreational or medicinal.

Most of these laws have restrictions beyond just "it's legal". You might have to be 18 to purchase marijuana, or 19, or 21; there's generally a maximum amount you're allowed to possess, or grow, at one time; medicinal use might be restricted to specific symptoms or conditions outlined in the original law; details may vary about having it in a public place, or about the specific forms allowed.

Also, some laws specifically address potential effects of marijuana use within the state beyond simple criminality. Can marijuana use be considered in a child welfare case, and held against you as a parent? Can use of medicinal marijuana get you fired if you fail a drug test your employer gave you, or just because your employer doesn't like it? Does being fired for using marijuana count as being fired "for cause" for unemployment purposes? Can marijuana use disqualify you from accessing needed health care like organ transplants? Excellent questions! The answers will vary. Or they might not be specified in the original statute at all, which leaves it open for the courts to decide.

If you're going to purchase and/or consume marijuana, please, look up all the details of your local laws on the matter beforehand.