#they’re in a crop top because I spun a wheel

[theefloraknight]

(Please click for better image quality. Tumblr doesn’t really translate the pictures well)

[cloud9in]

Driving Lessons Pt 2 (Poppy x Bea)

Long awaited. I hope you all enjoy. This is the finale of the series but I think that Bea and Poppy’s high school stories should be continued.....

Read Part 1 HERE

Tags: @samanthadalton @somewillwin @baexpoppy @poppysmc @clowneryme @thedaft1 @zigxryanz @aleiramacaii

Word Count: 2.6k 

Pt 2: The Date

Friday night had arrived and Bea’s nerves were at an all time high. She practiced breathing exercises that conveniently popped up on Youtube, there was no room for thoughts other than that of a blonde cheerleader. The buzz of her phone prompted her to jump up in excitement. 

1 message from Poppy🙄

 Poppy: I’m 99% sure that you haven’t forgotten about our “date” tonight. But if you did I’m not here to remind you. I’ll be here in 5 minutes. Remember, dress casual. ❣

 A familiar grin crept its way onto Bea’s lips as she reread the message about twenty times, taking note of the heart at the end. It may seem conventional, but even that was a lot coming from Poppy. Another message popped up which induced a smirk from the brunette. 

 Poppy: No, I am not driving the Benz.

 Bea set her phone down and spun around to check herself out in the mirror. She wore black ripped jeans with a red plaid design in the holes, red converse, and an oversized grey and black long sleeve. This should definitely fit Poppy’s definition of casual, right? 

 The blonde arrived outside of Bea’s house just as she reached the front door. Poppy was the first to react, her jaw threatening to drop open as she took in Bea’s appearance, all of it. Luckily, she was the queen of poker face’s and masked her thirsty expression….Bea on the other hand, failed horribly. She stood there wide eyed, her hands hanging uselessly by her sides as she studied the blonde. Poppy wore a white and pink checkered wool skirt, a knitted pink sweater, and a white crop top. Her jewelry also dazzled brightly against her neck. The blonde watched Bea amusingly, “you can quit ogling me now...:”

 Bea darts her eyes away self consciously. “Your uh...jewelry is distracting.” Really Bea. Nice going. She winces at her excuse and Poppy arches an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the flustered mess of the brunette in the moment. 

 “Hmm..well come now. I don’t like to waste time.”

 Like a puppy being offered food, Bea follows Poppy into her silver Range Rover. She gapes at the pristine interior and the stars on the ceiling. “I thought those star things only existed in Rolls Royce’s.” Poppy smirks appreciatively, her fingers flexing on the steering wheel, “Oh they do, but I have my ways.”

 Bea tries to convince Poppy to tell her where they’re going, but she scoffs immediately, not even turning her head in the brunette’s direction. “It’s a surprise.”

 “I didn’t take you for a girl that likes surprises to be honest.”

 “Well then there’s a lot you don’t know about me, Hughes.”

Bea fought the urge to ask Poppy to elaborate, to tell her every last detail about her. What flavor of ice cream she liked, what she loved to do on a rainy day, but there’s that moment of insecurity  that pushes her away from indulging in those thoughts. She didn’t want to seem overly-interested.

 But maybe that’s what Poppy wanted.

 The sudden quietness becomes obvious and Poppy peers over at the brunette, “I could always let you test drive this one. Maybe brush up on your driving skills?” Bea side eyes Poppy suspiciously, memories of Monday night’s driving lessons infiltrating her mind. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious right now..”

 “Of course I’m not! You don’t think I remember what you did to my other baby?! You’re lucky you were hurt in the process, otherwise who knows what I would have done…” Poppy glances quietly over at Bea, her eyes carefully scanning the scar that sits on her forehead.

 Bea smiles sheepishly, her hand reaching up to move her locks back. “I don’t think I wanna know- wait hey! What do you mean I was lucky-”

 “Oh please, you were lucky that I took you to a hospital. You are crazy Hughes, you know that?”

 “Crazy for you? Well now that you mention it…”

 Poppy rolls her eyes but can’t stop the smile that erupts on her face. “...Just let me take a look at it later. I need to make sure it’s healing right.”

 “Whatever you say doctor!” Bea mock salutes the blonde which earns another heavy eye roll, emphasis on heavy, but she didn’t mind. The opportunity to be less than an inch away from Poppy’s luscious lips again? Hell yes.

 “Okay, but what did your dad say? I’m sure he understood it was a complete accident.”

 “Mhm tell that to the insurance company. Which reminds me, you will be receiving a bill in the mail sometime next week for all the damages.”

 Bea nearly leaped out of her seat as her head snapped towards the blonde, who looked like she was having a great time. “Pop...you’re joking right...that is a thing you are doing right now.” Poppy rolls her eyes with enjoyment, letting out a soft chuckle. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Farmsville, I know you can’t even afford a tire. 

 “Wha-...hey!”

 ***

 After continuous bickering which almost prompted Poppy to unlock the passenger side door and kick Bea out...psychically, while they were doing 80 on the freeway, she eventually pulled into a parking lot. The only main source of light was the huge sign illuminating the words, “Animal Shelter”. Bea blinks in confusion for a few seconds before realizing she was the only one in the car. Poppy had already started walking towards the entrance, greeting a man with a….smile? Oh yeah, Bea was definitely curious now. Poppy actually looked relaxed when Bea had finally caught up with her. The blonde noticed her approach and hummed to herself, “took you long enough, hurry lets go inside.”

 “Pops-did you take a wrong turn...this is an animal shelter...”

 The blonde rolls her eyes so far back into her brain as she grasps onto Bea’s words. “No I did not take a wrong turn you imb--.....this..this is the place I picked.” The brunette flicks her eyes continuously between Poppy and the entrance before shrugging, a surprised expression on her face. Before Bea could say anything else, Poppy grabs her hand and pulls them into the store and into the column where cute puppies reached for them. A beautiful smile immediately lit up Poppy’s features as she bent down to pet one of the baby bulldogs. This gesture immediately enraptured Bea as she watched...Poppy? Or whoever this was. 

 Not wanting to disturb the moment Bea leans down to the cage next to her and picks up the golden retriever who happily licks her face. “Woah okay there boy, a little too much tongue.” She holds up the puppy as he barks playfully and wiggles in her arms. 

 “I’m definitely not complaining about your destination of choice, but can you tell me why you picked it?” 

 Bea gazes over at Poppy who looks like she’s in her true element. The blonde sighs and stands up, brushing her skirt down. “Well my parents own the place…and well to put it bluntly, some of these animals don’t have much time left.” 

 She turns towards Bea, watching her safely caress the puppy in her arms, and smiles, “I figured you have a close connection with animals and would want to make them feel loved before they go.” 

 Bea watches Poppy with a warm look in her eyes, and it was funny because Bea had been around the cheerleader a lot, but this...was different. Almost incredible. And Bea knew that this was the start of a feeling that she would never get enough of. 

 “I would. Thank you.” 

 The two girls spend a good amount of time playing with the animals. Poppy helped Bea feed newborn strays with a bottle of milk, more than often grabbing a hold of the brunette’s hand to steady the slight tremble. Bea didn’t want to admit she was nervous because Poppy was very close to her. And Poppy would never admit that Bea was doing everything right, but she wanted to hold her hand because it felt incredibly soft for a girl who worked on a farm everyday. 

 But she wasn’t the only one who was very observant that night. Bea kept her mouth shut about the situation, but this new side of Poppy blew her mind. There was so much to ask, to say, but the moment was too valuable to ruin. 

 The time seemed to go by quickly as the shelter started to close down. The time they spent with the animals felt fulfilling but Bea never missed the solemn look on Poppy’s face as she watched one of the older cats rest peacefully. There was so much to learn about the girl, and Bea thought it was best that she kept this date going.

 Food. That could work. 

 “Hey pops...I know I said you could pick the place but there’s somewhere else I want to take you. If you’re up for it.” 

 If it was anyone else, Poppy probably would have cussed at them for taking up too much of her time. But this was Bea, and something in her couldn’t say no. “As long as it doesn’t involve you and I in a forest alone.” The brunette laughs easily, wrapping her arm around Poppy’s waist without a second thought. “Oh please, do you really think that’s how I’d get rid of you?” 

 Poppy seems to lean into her touch, letting her strawberry blonde locks brush up against Bea’s cheeks, “I doubt you’d be the one getting rid of me darling, but sure.” 

 ***

“....Alright I take it back! I’ll even let you drive the car because I am not eating at a diner.”

 “Oh come on, they have the best milkshakes in town!”

 The brunette drags Poppy towards the diner without letting go because if she did, Poppy would probably scream bloody murder in the middle of the lot. 

 Bea led her towards a booth in the back, only then freeing her arm. Poppy plops into the seat after realizing there was no way she could charm her way out of this. “Don’t look so bummed out, you’ll change your mind when you try the famous strawberry milkshake.” 

 “I have never had a milkshake in my life.” Poppy visibly cringes, her posture stiffening at the thought of a sugary liquid infiltrating her body. 

 “Well today is your lucky day baby.” Bea winks at her and calls over a waitress who seems too comfortable with laying a hand on the brunette’s shoulder. It wasn’t evident whether the severe blush on Poppy’s face was because of Bea unknowingly using a pet name or because of the mystery girl who decided to do the most in her presence. 

 “We’ll have the regular Tasha, oh and the strawberry milkshake please.” 

 “Just one? What about your friend over here?”

 Poppy snaps her head up at the waitress who seemed to scan her every move. Something Poppy was definitely used to. Her hands are the first to make a move, slowly trailing their way up Bea’s arm from across the table. She doesn’t take her eyes off the waitress as she speaks softly. “Oh we’ll be sharing it honey. Put a cherry on top too okay?”

 The waitress reverts her eyes from the two and walks away without a word. Poppy watches her leave, biting her lip with satisfaction. 

 Bea can’t help but smirk to herself. “Oh you cannot take your eyes off of her can you? Relax, she’s an old friend.”

 The blonde scoffs, keeping her hands on the surface of Bea’s skin. “I don’t care who she is. Does she flirt with every customer in here? What happened to having class? Or some sort of decent? I mean do you talk to pigs like this?

 Bea squints her eyes and sighs warily. “Poppy this is not a five star restaurant, and that’s what you call being polite and kind to well known customers. People here are normal, not trained robots.” 

 Poppy shrugs to herself, her eyes darting around to the wall decorations and other people who are chatting happily with their families. The atmosphere did feel warm and peaceful, nobody sat up straight and practiced proper table manners. Nobody judged her for who she was or what designer she wore. There was room to actually breathe. Bea could sense the blonde slowly starting to adapt and relax in their new environment and she couldn’t be more grateful for making the right decision. When their food had come, Bea slid the milkshake towards Poppy and smiled shyly. “It’s all yours if you like it, we don’t have to share.” 

 “Nonsense Hughes, I can’t possibly drink this all by myself…but I call dibs on the cherry.” She steals the cherry from the top and plops it into her mouth, eyes sparkling from the burst of flavor. It was nothing compared to the milkshake though, Poppy swore she saw stars when tasting the sweet liquid. Bea laughs as a whipped cream mustache develops on the blonde’s lips after hogging the shake for herself.  

 ***

 “I’m paying for our next date by the way.” 

 Bea peers over at Poppy who walked her to her front door, “oh so there’s gonna be another one?” She can’t help but smile at Poppy’s sudden shyness. 

 “Well I enjoyed tonight, a lot. Maybe more than a lot.”

 “I did too.”

 The silence that consumed them wasn’t exactly uncomfortable but it was enough to make them stare at each other. Bea’s mind started to fog as she thought about finally closing the distance between them. She wanted nothing more than to mask the silence with a kiss. Bea looks at Poppy, who seems to be lost in thought. 

 “What are you thinking?”

 “What?”

 “You’re usually deep in thought when your eyebrows scrunch together like that. Or maybe you’re just planning on jumping me as soon as I turn around.”

 Poppy smiles softly. “Do you know the feeling when the thing you wanted the most is right in front of you, yet it still feels unreal and almost impossible.” 

 Bea takes a deep breath and nods, “I do.” 

 Okay Hughes you’re gonna kiss her in 3. You’re gonna make the move. Come on. 

 But of course Poppy had other plans. 

 “Mmh!”

 The feeling of Poppy’s soft lips had caught Bea completely off guard. A hum of pleasure escaped her mouth as the heat started to increase between them. Bea grabbed hold of Poppy’s cheek and steadied the kiss, her eyes slowly started to shut as she sunk into the warm, smooth feeling. Bea smiles into the kiss as Poppy’s tongue begins exploring the depths of her mouth, and she bites back a moan when the blonde takes her bottom lip between her teeth, tugging it slightly, feeling the desire pooling in the pit of her stomach. Poppy places her lips back on Bea’s, passion igniting once more as Bea begins to dominate the kiss, her hands finding her way to the blonde’s waist, pulling her in even closer. 

 Poppy felt like she could kiss Bea forever, if it wasn’t for the need of oxygen. When they both finally pulled back, the blonde laughed with joy. “That felt so amazing.” 

 Bea wanted to blow a huge sigh of relief that Poppy initiated the kiss, because imagine fucking that up. She just held her close and basked in the moment. Her lips swelled with excitement as she still felt the ghost of Poppy’s tongue tracing it. Poppy always had something to say, but right now there was so much more she could do. And the first thing she would do is finally make Bea hers.

***

if you want to be tagged in any Poppy fics let me know.

[salandition]

Raihan/Milo/Piers walking in on Reader doing something embarrassing HCs

A/N: I thought of this when I was listening to Matt Watson songs today so if any of you need an idea on where this is going and you know who Matt is, now you know.

Warning: explicit themes for Raihans (but it’s all a joke)

Raihan

By pure chance, he had decided to stop by your apartment

He was bored and he likes to hang out with others when he’s bored, so he spun the little colored wheel of people he knew in his head and it landed on You

Congrats! You’re so lucky

Raihan casually invites himself inside. I imagine he doesn’t really ever knock on doors unless they’re private rooms like a bedroom or bathroom. Otherwise he Spawns In

Right away he heard some music playing. And Raihan immediately thought: oh yes

He creeps quietly forward until he reaches your kitchen, where you’re sweeping. And you don’t see him yet but your body is swaying to the beat as you sweep (sick rhymes). Quickly Raihan takes out his Rotom

And then you sing along to the song- “me and my best friends...” there’s a pause. Long enough that Raihan raises a brow, until- “we love jerkin’ off,”

SpIT spiT sPIT spit SPIT he wants to SPIT but he can’t because he’s HIDING

“But it’s November, so we have to stop,”

It’s July,

“Me and my good pals, love a good bust, but it’s November, so we cannot nut,”

He records it. He records the whole thing as you sing and sway and sweep in your kitchen, but when the next verse comes Raihan can’t hold it in anymore and he bursts out laughing as he falls against your wall to hold him up

Immediately your head SNAPS toward him and your face is easily as red as it could ever get. It makes Raihan laugh more, the music still playing, Rotom still recording. “RAIHAN!!”

He can’t bre a t hee e

Milo

Milo isn’t as shameless as Raihan is. If he walks in on you doing something when you don’t know he’s there, it’s because it’s on accident

He’s the kind of guy that says “behind you!” on command like they do in restaurants because he doesn’t want to surprise anybody

Fun fact Milo is actually very quiet and No One Knows Why. He’s just a quiet guy and so are his footsteps so he learned early on to warn people he’s at least in the room

It’s a bit harder to do that in the fields of Turffield though. You’d been working on the crops for several hours, so Milo thought he’d check in and ask if you need any help or a break! Your work ethic is admirable, but everyone needs a break at some point

It takes a second to find you- you’re crouched next to blueberry bushes. And once Milo gets closer, he can hear you mumbling-

“I was in the third grade.... everybody acted like I was a criminal,” and then, with the blueberries in your hand, you SQUISH them and yell “because I killed somebody!”

You start laughing but the sudden yell had Milo tripping in surprise, right onto the ground

Immediately your eyes snap to him. “Milo!!” You stand up, your hands a blueberry mess. You look around anxiously. “They- they were bad blueberries- I wasn’t wasting them or anything!” And then you realize he’s still on the ground and you quickly skitter over to help him up with your non stained hand

“What was that?” Milo cant help but ask, and he’s giggling as he thinks back to it. Your face burns.

“A- a video. A dumb video. Don’t tell anybody”

Of course not. Milo swears it’ll be between the two of you, and offers his help in the field. You accept and it’s like the moment never even happened

But you hear Milo giggling to himself every so often

Piers

I think Piers just has a bad habit of walking in on things he’s not supposed to see

It happens to him like. Too often

It’s really just bad luck

You’re one of his ‘gym trainers’, and he has to check up on all his trainers and their progress everyday. As loathe as he is to do it, because he trusts everyone is doing their job, but... Team Yell also exists, and he has to sweep up their mess at least once or twice a day

So he begrudgingly starts to make his rounds around Spikemuth

And when he gets to your corner where you usually train with your Pokémon, you’re not there. Which is strange, because you’re usually very on top of things

He decides he’ll look around for two minutes and then move on. Whenever he sees you next he’ll ask you where you were

Unfortunately, he finds you. In the alleyway between some buildings

Going absolutely ham with some obscure dance moves that he’s never seen before

You’re seriously breaking a sweat with how you’re dancing, your Pokémon excitedly jumping along, but there’s no music. Why are you dancing with no music

“Why are you dancing with no music?” He asks, plain as can be, becuase this is weird and Piers wants answers

You startle and almost fall over when he speaks- clearly you didn’t know he was watching. “I- um!” Your eyes are wide as you look at him.

He raises an eyebrow, waiting

“I - just. Um. There was music! Just... in my head. Yknow?” You’re looking at him with an expression like you’re in physical pain, the awkwardness of this moment rolling over you in waves. It’s silent.

“I’ll get back to work.” You lower your head in shame and Piers snorts.

“Please.”

[shewhorises-tjyj]

Day 3: Teashop

I am going to be using “Bridgette” and Marinette. I know they’re the same person (Bridgette being a made-up name from the 2012 fandom) but this is the first thing that came to mind. Also, Bridgette and Marinette have don’t even know the other is alive (well, except when she sees Bridgette running after Felix. But she just chalked it up to a crush) same goes for Felix. She just sees his face from time to time because he’s a model {and actor. But he isn’t in a lot of films so he’s more famous for modelling} Oh yeah! Adrien does not exist or at least he isn’t mentioned.

It’s kind of switching from third to second to first person………So, it’s kind of messy.

“Felix!~” NOPENOPENOPENOPE.

He continued running (or well fast walking in other people opinion he was a Culpa there was no way he was going to be caught running!) her voice drew closer and closer as they ventured into a place he had never seen before but if this place could help him get away from ‘it’ he would take his chances of possibly getting lost and booked into the first store he saw. Coincidentally, it was a teashop. He quickly hid behind one of the walls and opened his eyes while panting before promptly freezing and tried to book it out the store when he heard a VERY familiar voice, “Feeliiixx!” before hiding behind the wall again. He noticed the girl looking at him like he was a madman (and okay, he probably looked like one) but he was overall surprised that she didn’t know him.

As the voice drew further away, he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding and dropped to the floor. The girl then proceeded to help him up and brought him to a table and left the room to make tea while he went and examined the place and the girl. The place had a mix of Japanese and Chinese furnishture that made him feel like he wasn’t in France anymore and instead at a traditional Chinese/Japanese house and the girl looked similar to… his stalker fangirl… but with a few differences that differed her from the other. For one, she had shorter hair that was let loose, her clothes were a red turtleneck long-sleeve crop top with the shoulder area being cut off, the back having a hoodie, the black skirt starting at the bottom of the crop top and reached right above the knees, black leggings and white tall sneaker boots that looked designer.

She could probably be a model or actor if, for the fact that he memorised every model and actor there is on the planet so that if he were to ever cross one he would not be as cold as he is.

When the girl came back she poured him a cup of tea before introducing herself.

“I’m Marinette. What’d your name?”

She didn’t recognise him?

“Felix.”

“Are you okay? You seem like you ran a good distance to get here.”

“…just trying to run away from a…………… fangirl.”

“Do you even know your way around here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before.”

“………uh….”

“I’m guessing you don’t” if anything, she seemed amused by this.

“I just ran. I’ve never been in this part of Paris before.”

“Do you want help to get back to... wherever you live then?”

“while that would be most convenient I can just call my driver to pick me up. Could you tell me where ‘here’ is?”

“the 1st Arrondissement, street cours la reine.”

“thank you.”

He took out his phone and texted his driver of his location and to come pick him up and placed it back down haven’t yet received a reply and took a sip of the tea and perked up. It didn’t go unnoticed by the girl.

“It’s a mix of mint and chamomile tea. It helps sooths the mind and muscles.” (or so I found on google)

“it tastes devine” (oh my god it’s so unusual for me to write so formally.)

“Do you own this place?”

“Oh no, I’m just helping my grandfather open the shop today. He fell ill and was unable to come today so I volunteered to help keep the shop open for the day, he’ll be coming tomorrow” (THAT’S RIGHT! I’M MAKING MASTER FU RELATED TO HER)

“I see.”

*ding!*

Picking up his phone again he saw he had received a reply from his driver who replied positively saying he would be able to come in half an hour and in that half hour he had made small talk with the girl.

Thirty minutes later, a car honk was heard outside.

“it seems that my driver has arrived, thank you for your hospitality.”

Then, she smiled and it seemed like it lighted up the whole room and possibly outside as it was getting dark out

“Your welcome! Let me show you out.”

Once outside,

“It’s late out, do you want a ride back home?”

“Ah! No thank you, my house is near here and it would be a bother for you.”

“I insist.”

“Really! I can get home in a matter of seconds!”

*sigh* “Alright, I hope you have a safe walk home.”

“Bye!” she replied waving.

When he got in the car, he thought back to the day. She was the most interesting he had ever met. she didn’t know who he was even though his face was all over the internet and Paris. And anything she said was not particularily boring and she talked about her dreams with such passion he had never seen before. Plus, she knew more than most people in the span of 40 minutes than people who’ve known him their whole lives except maybe Bridgette who knew what she knew she certainly was an interesting girl.

Wait- oh god that sounds so affectionate- shit- no- He DID NOT gain a crush in just 40 minutes of knowing her- wait- I didn’t get her number- NO!- oh god no he’ll never meet such an amazing girl again. She said her grandfather own the shop maybe I can ask him- NOPE that would just be weird. He was just a stranger and he was sure she wouldn’t talk about him. If he asks her grandfather, her grandfather will think he’s a creep and even if he got a chance with her, her grandfather will probably make her break up with him-

He was suddenly pulled out of his stuptor when his butler/driver announced their arrival at the family estate.

“We’ve arrived sir.”

“Huh, oh thank you Oliver.”

“Anytime sir.”

After that day, he started to regularly come to the tea shop in hopes of meeting the girl but to no avail (well he did end up getting on good terms with her grandfather which was good if he ever saw her again…) but on one fateful day, that all changed.

“Class, please welcome our new student. Marinette Dupain Cheng.”

1246 words.

(I searched up ‘most expensive neighbourhood in Paris’ and I got four different places so… I did what any one would do. I searched up ‘Wheel Decide’ and placed the four different locations in the wheel and spun it and got ‘7th Arrondissement’ (it’s near the Eiffel tower) and went to one of the Arrondissement next to it which was the ‘1st Arrondissement’ and picked a street which was just across the seine ‘cours la reine’)

@felinettenovember

[k-llama-llama]

Intervene

BTS AU: 8th member

Sumi x BTS

Sumi decides to step up and help Sara out.

A/N:I hope you all enjoy it!!!!!

Check out my PATREON (patreon.com/kllamallama) for exclusive content.

Requests are CLOSED! But your feedback is still very important.

Masterlist and other Follow Me links in bio!

“Don’t you just love company practices?” Taehyung said. “The food is always better.”

“I don’t know, I could do with some more pizza.” Sumi looked sadly at the empty pizza boxes. “Adding five more teenage boys to the mix really didn’t help matters.”

They looked over to where TXT was sitting, with two of the boys fighting over a granola bar and Sara trying her best to talk them into behaving.

“Are you still being weird about them, Noona?” Jungkook asked, handing her his extra slice.

“No. I think we’re cool.” She sighed. “But we need to start ordering enough food to support all of us.”

“They’re bringing in some wardrobe to start working through.” Jin nodded towards the door. “Ours?”

“No. They figured ours out yesterday. It must be some final stuff for TXT’s comeback.” Sara answered.

The stylists wheeled a rack of clothes over to the younger group, and started holding up clothes to the members and conversing amongst themselves.

One of them pulled Sara to her feet, holding up a pair of short shorts and a fairly revealing crop top.

“I like it because of how sheer it is.” The stylist was saying. “The star pattern really fits the magic theme.”

“It’s...It’s kind of revealing.” Sara said quietly.

“It’s normal for an idol.” The stylist answered. “You’ll just have to go on a diet.”

“Can I...can I wear a shirt under it?”

“No. All of your shirts are like this, so I suggest you get your head around the idea. These came in from a designer so we have to use them.”

Sumi sighed from where she was listening in. “Kookie, take your pizza back.”

“Why?” He asked, though he didn’t wait to grab the slice.

“Because I have some work to do.” She stood up.

“Hey, girl.” Sumi slid into the conversation, swinging an arm around Sara’s shoulders. “Mind if I steal you for a sec?”

“We’re in the middle of-”

Sumi cut the stylist off. “Thanks. I appreciate it. Let’s go.”

She pulled Sara from the room, leaving the stylists to move onto the next member of TXT.

“What are you doing?” Sara whispered.

“Rescuing you.” Sumi answered, pulling her around the corner before she released her. “Those stylists seemed a little pushy.”

Sara awkwardly rubbed her arm. “I  mean...they know what’s best, right?”

Sumi snorted. “Hardly. Did you ever see my hair in Danger era? There’s no way that was ever a good decision.”

“Still...”

“Soo-ji...can I call you Soo-ji?” Sumi tilted her head. “That’s your real name, right?”

“Yeah. And...yeah, you can call me that.”

“Good.” Sumi smiled. “Soo-ji, I could tell you weren’t thrilled about the outfit. Can you tell me why?”

Sara looked away. “I...You don’t need to worry about it.”

“Sure I do. I’m your senior.” Sumi gave her what she hoped was an encouraging smile. “Besides, I have a friend that would kill me if I didn’t back up my fellow woman.”

“It just..It won’t make sense to you.” Sara said sadly, looking at the ground.

“But you can still tell me. And I’ll try to understand.”

Sara considered it for a moment. “I don’t know. I guess I just don’t like revealing clothes.”

“I’ve seen you wear shorts before. Like...short shorts.”

Sara nodded. “I kinda forced myself to be okay with that, because I was prepping to be in a girl group. But...I don’t really like tight stuff. Or...like anything that shows my stomach or my chest.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” She seemed surprised.

Sumi nodded. “I don’t need to know your reasons. You don’t feel comfortable wearing the outfits they picked out. So you aren’t going to wear them.”

“How? They said some fancy designer sent them.”

Sumi grinned. “I have my ways. Follow me.”

She walked back into the room, Sara trailing sheepishly behind her. She marched right over to the stylists.

Reaching for the shirt they’d held up to Sara, which was now hanging on the rack, she pretended to consider it.

“Sumi?” The stylist asked nervously.

Sara carefully retook her seat next to Yeonjun.

“Is this who I think it is?” Sumi pretended to be shocked. “I can’t believe they sent this to you.”

“It’s for the music video.”

Sumi pouted. “But I love it. Do you think they’d let me wear it instead?”

“You...wear it?” The stylist blinked. “Where?”

“This one...I think that beauty event next week. And this one...” She reached for another of Sara’s potential outfits. “This one would be perfect for the airport. Actually...I love them all.”

“I...I don’t understand.”

Sumi beamed at her. “Can you call the designer and see if they’ll lend this to me instead?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m sure they’d love that. But what about Sara?” The last question was directed at the other stylist. “They start shooting next week.”

“Don’t worry.” Sumi clapped her hands. “Since I’m stealing your outfits...I’ll call someone I  met at Fashion Week and get you new ones.”

“You’ll find the designers?”

“It’s the least I can do.” Sumi smiled.

“Well, that’s great. Thanks.”

“Perfect.” Sumi spun away, giving the rack of clothes a little tap as she did. “Have those brought to our house, kay? I’ll be in touch.”

She shot a wink at Sara. “Thanks for swapping, babe.”

Sara smiled the first genuine smile that Sumi had seen. Thanks...Eonnie.”

Sumi beamed. “Later.”

She hopped back across the room, taking her seat next to Jungkook and stealing the last pepperoni.

Taehyung leaned forward and narrowed his eyes.

“What?” She asked innocently.

“You loved those clothes?”

“Mmm-Hmm.”

“You hate that designer.”

Sumi shrugged. “Your point?”

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #471

Top Ten Settings for a Stardew Valley Spin-Off

Have you played Stardew Valley? It’s great. It’s this sort of farming sim-cum-RPG where you move into a dilapidated old farm and have to turn it around, selling lots of produce and turning a tidy profit. But as well as tilling soil and milking goats, you also have to mosey on down to the local village, befriend the curious townsfolk, repair the battered old community centre, and eventually settle down and get married. And on top of all that, there’s a really weird Lynchian mystery, with monsters in the mines and wizards and witches and a war between dwarves and some kind of race of shadow-people. It’s bonkers and it’s delightful and it’s incredibly, incredibly dense. It’s like a cross between a casual mobile game and six seasons of a prestige fantasy drama.

However good the game is – and it is very good – I never really got too into it. Possibly because in its structure I see too much of the “just one more turn” ethos of Civilization (time passes in days and you can only save when you go to bed, but every morning new stuff has happened or new crops have grown, so you always want to get up and see); as I’m already in the grips of a crippling addiction to the world’s greatest strategy game, injecting more of the same into my veins is a recipe for disaster. Fortunately, my wife got addicted instead, and since the recent console update, we’ve been able to play together in co-op.

So anyway, the long and the short of it is I’ve been playing it pretty much every night.

Whilst I’ve been playing, I’ve been thinking of ways the game could be expanded. Not necessarily improved, but just sort of… spun off, in wild and exciting new directions. A different flavour of Stardew. New settings, new options, new challenges. Do you remember “total conversions”? When teams of modders or developers would essentially build an entirely new game out of an old game? Happened a lot with the Quake and Half-Life engines back in the day; I think it might even be how Gearbox got started, if I remember rightly. Anyway, how’s about a Stardew Valley total conversion? Something along these lines. It’d be good fun at any rate! So let’s play Stardew Valley…

…on Tatooine: you play a moisture farmer with a small place just outside of a bigger town – maybe someplace a bit smaller and friendlier than the likes of Mos Eisley and Mos Espa. You have to install moisture vaporators, buy droids to maintain them, trade with passing Jawas, and fend off Sandpeople attacks (unless you can learn their language and befriend them, Mando-style). Romance townsfolk! Save up enough for a new speeder! Take your T-15 down Beggar’s Canyon to bullseye womp rats! But seriously, the idea of farming in an entirely inhospitable location, and farming in a way that’s not done at all on Earth (except maybe you can also breed whichever animals make the blue milk), is really interesting.

…in the Wild West: you get to be an old-timey rancher out in the West. Are you growing corn? Are you raising cattle? Build yourself a cozy farmhouse. Get one of those windmills going. Basically, you’re creating the Kent Farm in Smallville. Perhaps this could go a bit more serious and look at the relationship between the settlers, townsfolk, and the indigenous people; maybe you could try to get everyone to get along? Or just make it stereotypical and wildly offensive. Godless meets Little House on the Prairie.

…in the Vampire Apocalypse: basically Stardew Valley by way of I Am Legend. There’s no romance here, you’re the only human. During the day you farm, you gather, you build; at night you hunker down as wave after wave of vampires attack. But just like in the book, there’s a deeper, creepier, much sadder mystery to unfold. I mean, this is probably the best possible adaptation you could make of I Am Legend, especially as presenting in a top-down pixel art style would rob it of any sensationalism.

…with Pokémon: you’re always shoving Pokémon in creepy breeding centres in the games, right? Well what if this was basically a Pokémon farm. You have to build specific enclosures for the different Pokémon, make sure they’re well treated, and also grow sufficient crops and foods to keep them happy. Your ultimate aim is to sell the Pokémon themselves (or their produce, I guess) but you can also sell what you grow. And, of course, you can wander into whichever little village in Kanto or Galar or wherever it is we set the game, and have your usual mild RPG entanglements and romantic sub-plots. Meanwhile Team Rocket are trying to mess up your lovely farm. The dastards!

…at the North Pole: kinda similar to the Tatooine farm, this has you managing a remote outpost in the freezing wilderness. Barely anything can grow outside so you have to construct and maintain habitats to farm indoors, and rear animals, etc. You can trade (or romance!) local indigenous people, befriend penguins, and ride polar bears, which I assume is a totally realistic thing to do. On top of all this there could be other research projects to complete and the opportunity to expand the station itself. If you explore far enough, you find a crashed UFO buried in the ice, but whatever you do, don’t let it anywhere near your dog…

…in Yorkshire: basically not much different to Stardew as it exists now, but it’s set in the UK. I think very specifically a small North Yorkshire village. Think of the comedy accents and regional humour! This is the sort of thing Team 17 could have made a lot of headway with in the nineties. You’d be growing and harvesting typical British crops, dealing with eccentric British townsfolk, encountering Sunday bikers and car boot sales and dancing round the May Pole… the more I think about it, the more it should basically be a Wicker Man game, to be honest.

…in Bedrock: farming great big huge caveman crops! Building big rickety stone houses! Driving cars with your feet! And – of course – rearing dinosaurs. Dinosaurs! Think about it: everything would have to be bigger and chunkier and funnier. Maybe you could invent fire or the wheel, or something. Who owns the rights to Chuck Rock? Because if the Flintstone people aren’t on board, this could be a great way to bring back a classic gaming icon.

…during the War: sorta similar to the Yorkshire Farm game above, but specifically set during WWII. I guess this is a more serious sort of game, but the added complications of rationing and a reduced workforce (I think maybe you’d have to hire land girls or something?), making produce for the army and stuff, would add a lot to the gameplay. Perhaps there could be bombing raids, blackouts, and maybe even enemy spies to deal with. All this combined with older technology could be interesting.

…on Cybertron: a totally different way of farming. Imagine: you’re in charge of an energon farm on one of Cybertron’s moons. You have to harvest energon from the ground and then convert it; there could be different energon ores and different ways of converting them. You could also drill for nucleon or something, or rear turbo-rabbits, sharkticons, and scraplets (but don’t let them get loose!). Meanwhile the war is brewing down on the planet below, and eventually you have to decide if you can remain neutral, or if you have to pick a side.

…in the Shire: on the one hand, it’s a fairly straightforward pastoral game, similar to Stardew as it exists now; plant seeds, grow crops, rear animals, do up your farmhouse. But your farm is in the Shire, you’re a hobbit, and everyone else is a hobbit. Grow pipeweed and learn to blow smoke rings! Expand your hobbit hole by digging further into the hill! Go into the Green Dragon and romance the barmaid! You can go adventuring, befriending wizards like Gandalf or Radagast, making friends with dwarves and maybe even meeting elves and men… but if you do, your hobbit neighbours might think a lot less of you. Man, now I really want this game! It sounds fantastic!

So there we are. Ten possible Stardew spin-offs. This started as a fun exercise and ended with me inventing a game that I want more than any other game that exists. This is crazy. Someone make me my gentle hobbit social RPG… please?!

[penname-artist]

Emergency - Chapter Twelve

Chapter Title: Oracles & Obstacles

Rated M - WARNINGS for violence, swearing, and very terrible things!!!

[planes fanfic]

AN: It got real.

-----

“I’m a what?” Dusty asked, dumbfounded. The young plane and the Sikorsky sat within a large clearing in the park, where a ranger’s station sat empty. The orange and white plane felt uneasy about being on the ground in the forest, where they knew an armed vehicle was still at large, but the green helicopter reassured that he would never come this far out and in plain sight - they were far closer to the Lodge now, and police were scouring every part of the enclosed treeline they could looking for their suspect. “An oracle. It’s a kind of seer.” Windlifter told him. He watched the younger male’s eyes flick between him and the patiently waiting figure of the ghost beside him - how he remained there was beyond him. “..How?” “You said you could hear him, couldn’t you?” “I don’t know if that was really him, or that I’m just losing my mind! I’ve...been seeing these.. things, since I woke up from my crash!” “A gift from the spirits,” he concluded with a nod. It all made sense now. “Only those who are taught to see them can, and those who can hear them are that which have met death for themselves.” “I...wait, what? What are you saying?” “You died after that crash,” The older male told him, taking his time over his next words, “Or nearly did. But you managed to come back. And now, you can see the others who have come to death, but are left on the earth.” “So...so ghosts?” “In a matter of speaking.” “And he..” - the orange and white plane shrugged a wingtip over in the ghost’s direction - “Have we confirmed that he..he is-” “Nick. Yes.” Windlifter said, “He’s been around for a long time now.” When the crop duster looked back at him, he could hear his resounding requests. ‘Help...can’t sense him...gone…’ He still echoed like he was far away, even though he was mere feet from the plane’s prop. “He doesn’t seem...like he’s really there though.” Dusty began to understand, watching the other’s incredible stillness even as the outline of his form wavered and warped like an illusion. “None of them truly are.” Windlifter told him, “You see ghosts aren’t what people often think they are. They’re still gone, they can’t live, they can’t learn or change the way they did when they were physically present. They’re the husks of their past, a collection of what memories they had before, stuck in between earth and the afterlife. Or rather, they decided to remain here.” “How’d they do that?” “A vow. A vow of vengeance against another soul that remains alive...or a vow to protect them..” The Sikorsky looked to the glowing figure as well, a face of pity for the former helicopter becoming apparent. “Blade.” Dusty said, “He’s here because of Blade.” “It would seem that way.” ‘Gone…’ “But if he’s here for Blade, why is he here instead, why is he...oh God…” “He isn’t dead.” Windlifter answered for him, already seeing the terror developing in the other’s core, “If he passed on, then Nick would have vanished too. When the living side of a vow goes as well, they both return to their afterlife. But you do have a point - even I don’t know how he could be here and not with him.” “He said he can’t.. ‘Sense him’ anymore, he’s trying to ask for help.” Dusty said, “But...I don’t know what we can do, we don’t know where he is either!” “That’s very strange..” The other said, puzzled. “Spirits, especially protective ones, are always aware of their vow’s presence...something else is going on. We just don’t have all the pieces yet.” “How do we ‘get them’ then?” The green Sikorsky looked the young plane over, “I think the only one who can get the pieces to figure this out is..you.”

-----

His landing wasn’t smooth. It was somewhere in the tier beside his crash-landing after the mine incident, though maybe not quite as rough or debilitating. It wasn’t until after he’d landed that he was debilitated.

The base of his front landing gear ached and refused to hold weight, too close to his now pair of bullet wounds in his underside. He couldn’t tell which hoses busted, but he knew some had from the fluid that had begun to drip down from the front gear. Hydraulics maybe, he wasn’t sure. Gritting his teeth, he tried to piece together his surroundings. He hated being here, but he didn’t feel safe going up in the air again - not that he thought he’d have the energy to do so in his condition anyways. He’d managed to find a clearing just large enough to land in, and far enough from the shooter that he had time to get backup. He was on the other side of the river, and that water was fast - as he and the SEAT learned the hard way. His rotors hadn’t even spun down all the way before he heard a rustle in the woods behind him. Or he thought he did, maybe it was just from the wind stirred up from the blades. And he could barely turn his head, from the pain in it that travelled across most of his front. January ice peered into the thicket - and flickering golden embers stared back.

He didn’t have to rush - the other wasn’t going anywhere. The two eyes remained locked in a defensive glare as the stranger rolled smoothly out into the clearing. He didn’t match the shooter’s description, but that was only a minor relief on top of a greater concern. He was a fairly young car, a silver-white Ford Focus. How he managed to remain so well hidden was beyond the helicopter, but maybe his eyes were going. The smaller vehicle only stopped when he was about a foot from the chopper’s nose, and only once he picked up on the feral growl rising in his engines. “As I live and breathe..” He commented, gazing over the Agustawestland’s front - yes, he knew who he was under that firefighter’s paint. Blade narrowed his eyes at the intruder. He didn’t have reason yet to need to defend himself, but he had a damn good instinct that this wasn’t about to be a friendly get-together. And he was already stuck in the low ground. “I’m not here to entertain an audience.” He growled. “Yes, I’m sure you must have a very busy schedule,...” The other replied coolly, as though it were playful banter, “But I’m afraid you’re needed elsewhere. Very important deed, you see...” In the midst of his short introduction, the red and white helicopter suddenly tore his vision away from the Ford to his left, and then to the right...two, if not three other vehicles showed up from out of the darkness of the forest, mostly in darker paint, and he was suddenly surrounded. “And we shan’t keep the customer waiting.”

As if on cue, the figure to his left charged forward in attack; Blade found strength again in his front landing gear, enough to turn and sink his teeth into the vehicle’s front fender, swinging him off towards the Ford. He dodged, damn it. But he hadn’t realized the following ambush at his tail, hadn’t even known someone was really back there, though he was sure one would be. But as he tried to gather the force to fling him off too, the third - from his right side - hit him in the flank, causing him to bare down on the ground and keep from tipping over. Hard as he was to tip, once he did he’d be out for the count. The third found it hard to get any purchase on the other’s broad sides, only managing to bite down to the base of his tail boom - and by then, he went off with the other being swung off into the dirt. There, that was the end of it...right?

Wrong.

Another force - a backup buff if you will - assaulted the helicopter before he could even catch his breath; Canines like daggers sank into the back of his helm. He was pulling rather than pushing the other down, and though Blade pulled back hard and held his stance, he could feel the sharp teeth cutting long marks down the length of his side, painfully slow. The assaulter readjusted to bite further up, closer to the front of Blade’s rotor hub, where he’d have the most leverage. The dude had to be another aircraft, as far up as the fucker could reach, and sure enough as Blade too readjusted to pull back, he glanced down to see one of the long black wings of his attacker. He would have won the pulling match, knowing the other’s fangs could only stay on him for so long before they slid down, pulling the sheet metal up in sharp, jagged lines, but he hadn’t anticipated the others would be up again so soon. Suddenly he was fighting against a plane pulling on one side and a pair of vehicles pushing on the other. Grunting, he could feel his landing gear starting to give. He didn’t have it in him to keep his front up, when the pain of his previous afflictions multiplied in intensity. It held on for another shaky, wobbly moment, before-

Snap!

The whole front of the wheel broke off under the pressure, his center of gravity suddenly lurching forward as his nose went into the dirt. And that gave the airplane just enough time to sprint out of the way before the others slammed him into the ground - on his side, finished. One of his four rotors snapped in the process, another vaguely damaged but remaining. The impact of his helm hitting the floor, coupled with his changed vision and perspective, sent the forest reeling in a blur of dark colors. The only thing he could scarcely make out was the blob of white that was floating back towards him. “Really not your best moment…” the blob insulted him, “Hurry up with it, James! This place is crawling with armed forces, so we gotta be fucking fast.” Then the white blob moved out of his peripheral vision, and the one thing that he had to be visually anchored to was gone. Everything hurt, to the point he was only vaguely aware that something had started to tug against his tail boom, and around his rotor hub. It wasn’t a sharp, searing pain like the plane’s fangs, but a broad pull, like a rope or a cable. He started to move, not under his own power, being dragged by his tail back into the woods. He hoped wherever they were going wouldn’t be far - he could already feel the scratches and dents among other various wounds littering his left side. The trail he made in the dirt, he noticed, was being covered up by another figure, though he couldn’t see how. The group’s conversations were hard to make out over the constant ringing in his ears. They sounded like orders, but from who? And why?

“Oh fuck..” The helicopter breathed, as it suddenly came to his attention where they were. He hadn’t recognized exactly where he’d landed when he did - in too great of sudden pain to really notice - but he knew, and now knew that they knew that they weren’t thirty feet from the mines. The same mines he and Dusty ended up in. By the same field he crashed in over a year ago. If it didn’t reek of irony, he didn’t know what would. His attempt at fighting back was feeble at best. Landing gear scrambling for purchase on the ground, he just didn’t have enough angle to even get one tire against the forest floor. But the closer he felt himself being dragged, the higher his anxiety suddenly spiked. Fighting for his life, he thrashed and yanked at the chains holding him with whatever strength he could muster, and still he went. Went back to pain and misery, back to the burning, claustrophobic walls of the mine shaft. Back to death, and not just to visit. “Here’s fine.” He heard the Ford say. The chains fell slack, and soon they were removed completely - no need to hold him down, it seemed he held himself down. “Let’s just get this over with so we can get out of here. Lenny!” A dark green pittie the helicopter hadn’t seen before suddenly seemed to appear, going around the chopper’s front to stop under his chin, where they seemed to carefully eye the bullet wounds. His gaze then seemed to shift downwards, across the fire boss’s tank to the vague direction of his tail. “The fuck are you..hey, HEY!!” The Agustawestland suddenly regained his voice as the forklift had begun to unhook the retardant tank from his underside, roughly yanking out whatever sections he seemed to feel would be too time-consuming to unhook the right away, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing!?” “Jake, deal with him..” The forklift ordered, as he pulled off the final bolt of the other’s tank and flung it off to the corner somewhere. It wasn’t important, apparently. Instead, he pulled out a tool from his side, and once he had it hooked up, the helicopter realized with a wave of ice-cold dread what it was about to be for. “Get your filthy forks off of me, you-m-Mhhph!!” It would seem ‘Jake’ - being one of the three Blade had fought with earlier - finally did his job, stuffing a God-knows-where-it’s-been cloth practically down the chopper’s throat. He bit down hard on the rag, and not just because he didn’t like it being there - every system in his body suddenly went into overdrive, mind-numbingly tense as he went full-on panic. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, and a gang of unfriendly strangers were spectating as an unfriendly pittie went at his underside with a welding torch. The pittie was obviously a skilled mechanic - not only did he have a clean line cut down the length of the chopper’s stomach, but in that line he found - and cut - every fluid-based wire he could find within it. They weren’t all completely torn out, either - they were tiny cuts, slits in the rubber of the hose designed to cause slow but steady leaks, and making it a hard find-me-if-you-can game to patch up again, especially when there were so many. “Are you done yet?” The Ford asked impatiently, watching the forklift getting lost in concentration, whilst his patient choked on his rag mid-hyperventilation. It wasn’t until he actually bumped the pittie to get his attention - and a nice death glare - that they finally got the message and finished up. Blade vaguely remembered the group packing up again to leave. They didn’t taunt him or anything, but they also didn’t take out the rag and they didn’t get him back on his landing gear - not that it would have held him up very well anyways. Nope, their plan, as he began to realize, was to get him out, on the ground, and on his side to cut open and leave to die. And it was meant to be a slow death. The many cuts in the hoses and the line cut down his belly left him to slowly bleed out - he knew as much that he’d only have a few hours at best. And he had no radio communication, not even for so much as an S-O-S.

And no one even knew what happened.

[castellankurze]

I wish you would write a fic about a Dark Angel and a Space Wolf that are buddy-cops

Somewhere amidst the Horus Heresy…

The land raider was a behemoth of a machine, surging forwards on spinning treads that had been modified for extra speed.  It was marked with stripes of blue and white, the side imprinted with the great, serrated Maw of the World Eaters.  It had been blackened by war, but had lost no speed for its scars, and its engine howled as it tore down the wide-open roadway of the hive city, smashing aside an abandoned groundcar with no more notice than a man stepping on an ant.  Atop the vehicle’s back, a gigantic figure in terminator armor lurched, swaying the force of the impact, planting the butt of the great scythe held in one hand.

In the wake of the rampaging vehicle came another, smaller, engines likewise screaming as it fought to gain ground against one of the XII Legion’s famed assault transports.  The rhino was a gleaming black, trimmed in red, stamped with the winged sword of the I Legion, but when the hatch popped and a head emerged from the boxy metal vehicle, the figure that emerged was a far cry from those infamously stoic knights in black.

Britte shook her head as the wind hit her in the face, blasting back her braided locks like a dirty blonde war banner, and her fangs flashed as she spat off the side of the roaring treads.  “Yer not gonna close the gap like this!” the Space Wolf snarled down into the compartment.

From the driver’s station her companion flashed her a look of pure murder.  She’d stripped the armor from her torso in the wake of taking a plasma shot, and so the tattoo of the Dark Angels flexed with Amelia’s biceps as she hauled the rhino around the silent corpse of another groundcar.  “Just get up there and let me do my job,” she growled, and Britte shrugged, climbing onto the top of the rhino and clinging to its back.

Amelia gripped the wheel as if imagining the XII Legionnaire’s neck under her fingers and wove an aggressive course through the debris that cluttered the superhighway.  Her prey could smash through the cars all day long with the bulkier land raider, but the collisions slowed the bigger machine and left the loyalists sprinting in their wake, waiting for the chance to present itself.

One bloody volkite shot and I’d ruin yer whole day, Britte thought to herself as she crouched atop the rhino, shifting her weight every time Amelia swung left or right.  But there were no bloody volkite charges left to be had - both sides had run increasingly dry of ammunition as the fight turned into a knock-down, drag-out battle of attrition.

Without warning, the land raider suddenly juked to one side and smashed through the barrier that divided the thoroughfares of traffic, heading for the arterial loop on the opposite side.  Britte slapped a hand against the vehicle’s roof and screamed “they’re going for it!  We can’t lose ‘em now!”

But Amelia was already in motion, even as her temper finally exploded.  “Lose ‘em?  I’m Ironwing, bitch!  Hang on!” she roared as she hauled on the gear shaft and spun the controls.  With a sudden shower of sparks and a horrific grind of steel and asphalt the rhino swung about, its back end slewing to one side as the Dark Angel put it through an aggressive turn without taking the time to slow.  Britte clung to the troop handle near her as the maneuver threatened to throw her from the top.  She’s bloody insane!

…and did she just call a Fenrisian a bitch?!

The rhino screamed across the highway, but Amelia didn’t aim for the arterial.  Instead she put the rhino through the hole left by the land raider and proceeded to slam the six-tonne vehicle through the opposite wall.  Concrete shattered and for a few glorious seconds the rhino knew what it was like to fly.  Beneath them, the land raider was exiting the arterial heading in the opposite direction, and Britte took her chance, springing from the falling vehicle and aiming for the fleeing transport, chainsword howling.

The Death Guard terminator had looked up as the loyalists erupted from the side of the road above, and as a result saw the Wolf coming, but with no time to ready its war scythe the hulking figure instead put a halt to the attack in the most efficient way possible - by lifting one massive arm and snatching the Wolf’s wrist in mid-air so that Britte came to a jerking halt, sword arm held prisoner.  Without hesitation she kicked out and her ceramite boot caught the terminator’s visor, cracking the receptors.

Meanwhile, well behind the land raider, the I Legion rhino hit the lower-level road with a percussive bang of thunder and all but spun end end for end as Amelia worked the brake, throwing up a cloud of smoke as she wheeled about to regain pursuit.

The terminator whirled and threw Britte, and the Space Wolf was forced to choose between her chainsword and her enemy, and so let go of the buzzing weapon to grab the land raider’s rear flap with both hands, kicking her feet to cling to the rear of the vehicle, inches away from the whirling treads.  Above her, the Death Guard reached up the broken helm and pulled it off, revealing pinched, pale features and a mane of white hair.  The veteran trooper stomped towards the Space Wolf and glared down wordlessly before raising her manreaper like a farmer about to cut down a particularly troublesome crop.  Britte pulled herself close to the vehicle’s frame and heard the blade thrum as it passed centimeters from her body.  The Death Guard caught the scythe as it swung up and redressed, and this time the wicked blade struck sparks from the Wolf’s backpack.

In the land raider’s wake, Amelia slammed a fist on the rhino’s dashboard.  “Get out of there, you idiot, get out of there!” she screamed in rage.

On the third swing, Britte took the most dangerous risk in a life made part and parcel of such risks.  As the manreaper’s blade came down, Britte swung and grabbed hold of the shaft.  The Death Guard lurched, but Britte had gambled right - even for the grim efficiency of the XIV Legion, the symbolic harvesting weapon was too precious to simply let go for the sake of expedience.  The terminator hesitated, and the Space Wolf took advantage of the split-second lance to pull herself up, scrambling back onto the land raider’s roof and belly-crawling between the hulk’s legs.  Even as she did so she felt as much as heard a stomping boot and knew she had just narrowly avoided losing a hand, but the mighty terminator armor and the long-handed manreaper were not built for such a close-quarters fight.

Even so, it was anything but a fair fight, and it had to end quickly.  As she came to her feet Britte drew her last weapon, a mere combat knife, and readied it as her opponent drew herself up and likewise readied the manreaper for another swing.  In the heartbeat between motions, each had a chance to study the other - both of them brutes plucked from the most infamous death worlds of the Imperium, each of them a decorated veteran of the transhuman Legiones Astartes.  Had they been switched at birth, would they yet have traversed the stars only to bring blades to bear against one another, but with their stances reversed?

There was no time for Britte to dwell on the existential thought, because behind the Death Guard came roaring a coal-black rhino that closed the gap with sudden speed.  In the moments before the impact, Britte lunged - the Death Guard started her swing - but rather than go for the head with her knife, the only attack that would have made sense, the Space Wolf all but dropped back to all fours and slammed her armored weight into the terminator as the scythe cut through the air above her.  A split-second later, the nose of Amelia’s rhino crashed into the rear of the land raider with a charge worthy of its name that made the back end of the larger vehicle jump into the air.

Between the collision and the impact of the Wolf, the Death Guard’s ponderous armor worked against her, and she had no choice but to rebalance with a step back.  But she had moved up to the very edge of the land raider in her attempt to slay the Space Wolf, and though she had turned about, there she still stood.  All she had needed was a single step back…but there was nowhere to step back to.

There was a flash of emotion - no more than a grimace - as the veteran toppled from the land raider and crashed to the road with an impact that broke the surface.  A moment later, the left-side tracks of the rhino slammed into the prone terminator, and the boxy vehicle went up on its right side for a long moment before slamming back to earth.  Maybe that had finished her, maybe not, but Britte put the Death Guard from her mind as she clambered back towards the front of the land raider.

As she did so, Amelia brought the rhino up and tried to sneak around the land raider’s left side, only for the bigger vehicle to suddenly jerk left.  The rhino braked and narrowly avoided being slammed into the side of the road.  Britte waved a hand at her compatriot’s vehicle in irritation.  “Are ye daft?  I’m up here!” she howled into the wind.

Her combat knife dove into the mechanism of the land raider’s top hatch and severed it, allowing the Wolf to tear it open with a screech of ceramite.  A moment later she nearly lost her face as a white-hot plasma bolt erupted from the interior.  “GET OFF MY MACHINE!” a hoarse voice roared from inside, and Britte briefly wondered how much the World Eater had been swearing over the past minutes.  A lot, probably.  Fortunately, she’d pulled the trigger a split-second too early, and Britte took advantage of her opponent’s lack of patience, diving headfirst down the hatch and hurrying to come to grips with the World Eater before her pistol could recharge.  A crimson-eyed pitfighter with a set of implants arranged in the fashion of a crude scalplock didn’t hesitate to meet the Wolf with a scrabble of furious limbs, the plasma pistol thudding to the deck as she gouged at Britte’s eyes.  The pair grappled, snarling as Britte tried to get the knife down into the World Eater’s open collar, but the traitor legionnaire was stronger than she was, and despite keeping one hand on the controls was able to force the Wolf’s wrist back.

Then the entire vehicle lurched to one side without warning as Amelia slammed the rhino into the side, and fortunately she’d picked right as the momentum of the crash threw Britte into her opponent and gave the the opening she need to slam her knife home.  Arterial spray fountained forth and the Wolf kept her weapon pressed deep so that the fast-clotting Larraman cells could not undo her damage.  “FOR THE ALLFATHER!” she roared.

“FUCK YOUR ALLFATHER!” the World Eater snarled, and spat a mixture of blood and Astartes-sharp saliva into her face.  Britte felt her eyes burn, but she squeezed them shut and leaned into her foe, keeping her pinned against the dashboard and sawing furious with her knife.  She felt the World Eater’s fingertips dig into her brow and cheek, the ceramite tearing furrows across her face as a parting gift, but as the seconds past the berseker’s strength faded and she slumped against the dashboard.

Cracking her eyes open, Britte managed to shove the corpse - all but headless thanks to her frenzied knife-work - from the driver’s seat to get at the bloodied control panel and hauled back on the throttle to bring the rampaging behemoth to a screeching halt with one final lurch.  Only when it was finally stopped did she take the time to breathe out.  She heard the roar of an engine nearby and knew that Amelia would be pulling up nearby, and so she slipped the knife back into its sheath and made for the land raider’s hatch.

There was a tiny crack as she put her foot down.

THE BLOODY FUCKING PLASMA PIST-

Britte burst from the hatch and dove to the ground, head covered as behind her the land raider’s interior erupted into flames, and the Space Wolf scrambled on all fours and eventually worked herself up to a sprint as the superheated plasma set off the engines and the back half of the XII Legion vehicle vanished in a heart-stopping blast.  The Wolf actually felt the shockwave slam into her back and even an Astartes was all but plucked from her feet, slamming gracelessly into an ebon wall of ceramite.  She clung to the rhino like a drowning woman to a dragonship, hauling herself up the side to drop herself through the hatch beside her partner.  “Next time,” she said, scooping bloodied, singed hair out of her face, “I drive.  You knife-fight.”

“Not in this lifetime,” the Ironwing replied, flipping the vehicle into reverse and spinning the control to slew it around once more, gunning the throttle to head back towards friendly territory.

[blazefire-engine]

The Ever Regal Regalia

Based (loosely) on a side quest given by Cindy in Chapter 2 of FFXV.

AN: For fun, I suggest listening to Cindy’s theme while reading this.  I swear it’ll be worth it.  

The sun started to set as the Prince and his retinue made their way back to Hammerhead.  Sweaty, dirty, and exhausted from their journey on foot to retrieve the car wax, they were met with an unusual site in front of the garage.  The scene caused Gladio’s voice to rumble deeply, the tone making Noctis almost shiver.  “Well, I’ll be.  And I thought the desert couldn’t get any hotter.”

With a low, wolf whistle, Prompto picked up his slacked jaw and fished out his camera.  This was just too good to pass up.  It had Ignis fiddling with his glasses, cleaning the lenses with the fabric of his shirt and putting them on once more as if he thought he witnessed a mirage.  While Noctis pulled at the neck of his shirt, which suddenly began to feel too tight.  As the four males watched the scene between the two females, it seemed that time had slowed down.

Her golden skin exposed in all its glory, Cindy had rid her yellow, cropped jacket and clad in a red bikini top.  She giggled with a water hose in hand.  Her thumb pressed at the hose’s opening and the water sprayed all over the place, including the stoic Glaive.  Lightning, who ditched her Glaive coat, settled on only her sleeveless turtleneck that clung tightly to her skin.  With pale and milky skin uncovered, her toned arms rose as she feebly tried to shield herself from the spray.  Her face contorted in amusement and a chuckle escaped her lips.

At a flick of her wrist, Lightning summoned a watera, which resulted in a drenched female mechanic.  Cindy countered by releasing her thumb from the hose’s opening, subjecting the Glaive to the full force of a water jet.  Soaked to the bone and pieces of pink hair flat on her face, Lightning’s leather outfit clung to her every curve more than before.  She laughed refreshingly, a sound the Prince had not heard in a long time.  

“Looks like we got an audience.”  Cindy grinned and waved her hand.  “Hey there, Prince!”

“And what are you two lovely ladies doing?” Gladio swooped in, garnering attention from the mechanic.

“Givin’ the ole girl a wash.”  Cindy replied, donning on her jacket as she felt a chilly, evening breeze.  “Poor thing ain’t as shiny as she is with all the dust lyin’ around.”  

“Hey.” Lightning greeted, running her fingers through wet hair, combing it up and away from her face.  The action left Noctis frozen as he witnessed a different side of Lightning, who always kept a part of her face covered due to her hair’s natural style.  

“H-hey.” He said back with a sheepish hand rubbing the back of his neck and looked away.  Without hair framing her face, the color of her pale blue eyes were more intense than usual.  “You’ve been busy.”  He nodded towards the Regalia.  Everything from the windows to wheels were spick and span, except for the front.  

“Mm, yeah.” She replied and walked forward, bending to pick up the bucket of soapy water, in which the Prince coughed and looked away again.  Her bodysuit was not helping with his situation.  He could only watch as she dipped a rag in the bucket and proceeded to wipe the Regalia’s windshield.  As she bent once more, he saw Prompto’s flushed face behind her, both eyes and mouth wide open.  

“So, you found that car wax?” Lightning grunted a bit as she stretched to wipe the upper portion of the windshield.  Noctis watched her toned arm, the muscles working beautifully, and his eyes travelled to her form, back arching as he stammered. “Y-yeah.  The daemons were a bit troublesome.”

She raised an eyebrow.  “You sure you’re not injured or anything?  You look stiff.”  As she finished washing the front, she proceeded to the hood of the car, bending almost at a 90-degree which made her arched back more noticeable.  He swallowed, throat feeling as bone dry as the desert.  “Just tired.  It was a bit far on foot.”

“You rely on the Regalia too much.”  She scoffed, a bit amused.  “I’m sure Gladio enjoyed the small detour.”  

“Prompto wouldn’t stop complaining.”

“I’m sure.”  Lightning replied as she rinsed the hood with the water hose.  Cindy happily bounced to her side, holding a red bucket of the car wax they found and wanting to service the Regalia immediately.  Popping the hood open, the two females gathered close and inspected the engine and parts underneath.  

Prompto and Gladio stood next to Noctis as they watched the women work.  “Man, am I dreaming?” The blonde cameraman sighed blissfully, while the King’s Shield countered, “Oh, I hope I’m not.”

“There’s just something hot about women and cars.”  Prompto continued in a somewhat euphoric state.  

“Said women are drenched as well.”  Ignis suddenly appeared behind them and Noctis spun around to  look at him in horror.  His advisor never made quips about these kinds of topics.

Gladio whistled lowly and teased.  “Iggy likes what he sees.”

“I think we all do.”  He replied in a murmur, adjusting his glasses as if to get a better look.  “There’s no harm in spectating.”

“I can’t believe this.”  Noctis nearly groaned as his friends created an awkward situation that was borderline voyeuristic.  With nothing else to say, he continued to watch the two females, mainly his Glaive.  She tucked a damp string of hair behind the ear and bent down on the hood, her strong arms flexing as they supported her weight.  His stomach flipped at the realization she was damn attractive, and she wasn’t even doing it on purpose.

Pursing her lips, she did something with Cindy’s instructions and he was almost in awe with how every muscle in her body was dedicated to the task.  He was entranced with how she licked her lips and bit on her bottom lip.  “Uh-oh.”  Gladio sang at his side, voice still in teasing mode.  “Lover boy’s got it bad.”  He ignored his Shield’s jibes as he was totally transfixed on Lightning.

The spell was broken as Cindy slammed the hood shut, slapping her palms together which was a sign that her work was done.  “Now that I’ve slapped some of this wax in your car, y’all be glidin’ down the road and saving gas too.”   

“I greatly and deeply appreciate your work, ladies.”  Ignis came by and inspected the Regalia, shiny, sleek, and beautiful.  “She is looking as regal as ever.”

“We’re really grateful, Cindy.”  Gladio thanked and went to inspect the newly cleaned car, while Prompto began to take pictures.  

“Thanks a lot.”  Noctis said genuinely, lightly squeezing her shoulder.  

“It was my pleasure, Prince.  Lightnin’s been a huge help.  I have half a mind to hire her.  But I figure, you wouldn’t have liked that.”  The belle of the body shop gave him a cheeky smile and when she winked, Eos help him, she just knew.  “Glad you enjoyed the show.  If she were a car, she’d be a pretty damn fine one.”

He groaned once more.  “Not you, too.”

She giggled.  Her eyes travelled to Lightning, who was currently rubbing a towel in her hair.  “The look you had is like when Paw-paw sees a mighty, fine car.”

“She’s not a car.”

“That she ain’t, but I know love when I see it.”  She winked once more and stretched an arm above her head.  “Hey, Light!” She called out.  “Wanna grab some grub?”

Laying the towel around her neck, Lightning gave her a small smile.  “Sure.  I’m hungry.”  As Cindy nearly skipped to the Glaive’s side, she wrapped an arm around Lightning’s and made their way to Takka’s Pit Stop.  But halfway there, Lightning turned around and looked Noctis in the eye.  “You coming?”

His body moved before his mind could think and his mouth could speak.  It was then Noctis realized, he could never say no to anything she asked.

AN: This got so out of context.  But I needed a car wash scene.  I also needed Light and Cindy being BFFs because they’re goals (and nosebleeds).  And I needed the boys gawking at them because those two are just damn sexy.  

And shout out to @loveiscosmicsin.  If you are looking for another car wash Lightis, here’s the AO3 link.  This popped up way back and I remembered reading it and it’s super lovely~

For Lightning’s Glaive garb, I imagine it’s a mix between her Lightning Returns’ outfit (Equilibrium) and Crowe’s in Kingsglaive.  It would be more like Crowe’s except that she’s wearing her sleeveless turtleneck inside and a crimson cape behind her. (But if it’s a formal event/super cold, she’ll wear the black frock coat like Nyx’s).  There’s also this one too (link) made by a fan, which is pretty awesome and yummy and I can totally see her wearing this.

[thesportssoundoff]

“Yo, this is appointment viewing”A UFC 218 preview

Joey

November 28th

Not since LAST November-December have we had two genuinely stacked PPV events back to back. UFC 217 brought the sizzle with three title fights, former champions and title contenders competing for standing and a loaded prelim slate with HWs and BWs looking to find their place in the world. UFC 218 heads to Detroit with just one title fight but with it a host of potential #1 contender clashes alongside a flat out good undercard with relevant fights and action fights all across the ledger. The headliner is a short notice clash between Max Holloway and Jose Aldo, a pretty damn good 145 lb title fight that could either solidify Max Holloway as a P4P great or reannounce Jose Aldo's return to the top of the division. Under it, all four main cards are REALLY on point with potential #1 contender clashes at HW, LW, Flyweight and SW. I can't begin to express my excitement for this bad boy much longer so let's just get right to it!

Fights: 13

Debuts: 1 (Allan Crowder)

Fight Changes/Injury Cancellations: 2 (Frankie Edgar OUT, Jose Aldo IN vs Max Holloway/Al Iaquinta OUT,  Charles Oliveira IN vs Paul Felder)

Headliners (fighters who have either main evented or co-main evented shows in the UFC):  13 (Jose Aldo, Max Holloway, Justin Gaethje, Eddie Alvarez, Alistair Overeem, Henry Cejudo, Sergio Pettis, Francis Ngannou, Michelle Waterson, Tecia Torres, Charles Oliveira, Alex Olivieira, David Teymur)

Fighters On Losing Streaks in the UFC:  1 (Angela Magana)

Fighters On Winning Streaks in the UFC:  11 (Sergio Pettis, Felice Herrig, David Teymur, Drakkar Klose, Alex Olivieira, Yancy Medeiros, Paul Felder, Tecia Torres, Max Holloway, Francis Ngannou, Alistair Overeem)

Stat Monitor for 2017:

Debuting Fighters (Current number: 41-35)- Allan Crowder

Short Notice Fighters (Current number: 23-34-1)- Jose Aldo, Charles Olivieira

Second Fight (Current number: 27-37)- Justin Willis, Dominick Reyes, Sabah Homasi

Cage Corrosion (18-13-1)- 0

Twelve Precarious Ponderings

1- We should begin with the main event which in my estimation an improvement over the Edgar/Holloway booking. To explain, while Edgar/Holloway is a fresh fight and one that would've been truly awesome, we've seen Frankie lose to Aldo twice. Aldo is the superior fighter of that we have no doubt---and so seeing Holloway/Aldo II isn't as fresh but it is a better all around fight. The first fight in my estimation is one of those clear examples of "sometimes stats lie, man." Everybody, almost like a chorus of geese on a cold Winnipeg morning, honks about Aldo winning the first two rounds and that's true but also irrelevant. Why? Because if you WATCH the fight, you can tell that the second round was a round where stats lie. Halloway had no respect for Aldo's power, he marched him down, he took to give (in my opinion he won the round) and by the end of the second round, their respective reactions heading back to their corners should've told you who was winning or about to win that fight. It wasn't Aldo.

2- I also don't buy the idea that leg kicks are some vaunted weapon which has been missing from Aldo's game and will be some deciding factor. For starters, it's not Holloway hasn't faced explosive kickers in the past. Second, it's not Aldo's leg kicks are the key weapon to what was his dominant run to begin with. They're a tool in the act but no more a tool than his amazing takedown defense and superb angles. LASTLY this is a guy who has been rocked/dropped in 3 of his last 4 fights. He's been finished in 2 of them. The only guy who hasn't finished him is a guy who has one KO stoppage in the last six years (love ya Frankie!). Aldo has plenty of ways to beat Holloway and Holloway has plenty of ways to beat him in return---but leg kicks? Not really seeing it. Aldo hasn't been this big leg kick monster since about 2013 or so. They're a sparsely used gimmick at this point.

3- I wonder if the UFC is as frustrated at the 155 lb scene as we are as fans. We have:

-A champion who doesn't seem like he's defending any time soon.

-An interim champion who seems to be torn between waiting for the neverending stop of the McGregor/UFC table dance and taking a fight that risks him losing the biggest payday of his life.

-Two fantastic 155 lb fights that could determine #1 contenders for titles that don't seem to be getting defended any time soon.

-Dustin Poirier sitting on the outside looking in after dominating Anthony Pettis plus depending on who you ask finishing/almost finishing Eddie Alvarez.

Making matters worser than the worst worse, you have Nate Diaz potentially malingering around, the looming threat of Max Holloway or Jose Aldo finally making a move up as well as a solid crop of 155 lb talent who aren't close to title shot contention but would in theory be closing the gap if the division wasn't held up at the top so much (the aforementioned Paul Felder, a suddenly resurgent Clay Guida, Anthony Pettis is still young enough to turn things around, too too early to write off Michael Chiesa and Kevin Lee after tough losses, Devid Teymur and the mystery that is Mairbek Taisumov).  At some point something has to give along these battle lines and I wonder if that means biting the bullet, admitting that there's a need for it and opening up 165 lbs.

3- I do think, title contention wise, it says something that Alvarez/Gaethje is 4th on the card underneath Pettis/Cejudo when it comes to relevancy. Could be nothing, could mean everything.

4- There's a lot of hype and pressure on Francis Ngannou. That's probably well deserved but as I've said perhaps one time too many, don't get caught up in the narrative if he loses. Once upon a time, Stipe Miocic got his first real big step up and he was iced in two rounds by Stefan Struve. Shawn Jordan once put Derrick Lewis on ice skates with a fat guy wheel kick. This will shock and amaze you but fighters do improve over time and at HW, nobody is ever truly a lost cause. Division lives for chaos.

5- I know I'm the weirdo in this regard but I'm really excited to see how Sergio Pettis handles the challenge that is Henry Cejudo. Of all the Duke Roufus products, Sergio is the one who seems to most fit the mold of what they want. Functional in every facet of the fight while still having the flash, sizzle and workrate to keep people interested. Cejudo's rediscovered his power recently and his boxing has looked world's better. I have cardio concerns with him as you always need to but Sergio Pettis has always had an aversion to guys who pack a shot on the feet. This fight could be really great.

6- Paul Felder's stock, which continues to go up and down depending on the time of year, is probably as high as it's been since he iced Danny Castillo way back in 2014. Felder has always been really talented but at 33, the clock's ticking on him really making a run. He's won 4 of his last 5 fights but the only guy who remains int he organization out of that group is Stevie Ray. His losses are two totally acceptable ones (a decision to Barboza where he could've probably won, a 3rd round TKO stoppage vs Francisco Trinaldo in Brazil) and one totally bemusing loss to Ross Pearson where he spun for the entire fight chasing a bonus and never got it. Felder's inconsistency is partially the reason why it's hard to feel overly confident in him vs Charles Olivieira. Do Bronx is always dangerous for a quickie sub and he showed that vs Will Brooks when he got his back and subbed him in the first round in April. Historically Charles has won to the guys he's supposed to beat and found creative insightful ways to lose to the guys he shouldn't. He's always in a fight until it's over and Felder historically leaves enough margin for error where  he could, in theory, give Do Bronx opportunities.

7- David Teymur thus far has passed every test put in front of him. He was successful in TKO-ing guys who he probably would've been fighting on the regional scene and then really broke out when he spoiled the Lando Vannata hype with a decision win in March. Teymur is one of those guys who mixes techniques well, never tries the same trick twice and has improved time and time again whenever he fights. He's a bit old for a prospect (28) and Drakkar Klose will probably be the bigger, stronger fighter but I'm excited to see what Teymur has added to his game during his time away. Dude has top 15 potential in my estimation.

8- There's going to be a lot of interest in the Waterson/Torres fight and fair play to it but I'm all about that Felice Herrig/Courtney Casey bout. I haven't been wow'd in Felice's more recent fights (never really impressed with Kish, thought Grasso won) BUT even having said that, she's finally matching her record with her boisterous personality. On the other hand, I'm all about that Courtney Casey violence. She debuted vs Joanne Calderwood on short notice and put it on her before she gassed. The same for her vs Seo Hee Ham where she started off hot and then the wheels fell off. She rebounded by finishing Christina Stanciu and has a "way more impressive in hindsight" sub of Randa Markos. A loss to Claudia Gadelha followed where she never seemed to get out of second gear and you could almost sense her upside would be "tough woman who lives on the outskirts of the top 10." She then went and beat the fuck out of Jessica Aguilar in a fight that wasn't competitive for a single minute of its duration. She is all action, all the time and Felice Herrig's size, grappling and developing hands are going to give her a real test. This fight is great.

9- Yancy Medeiros vs Alex "Cowboy" Olivieira is gonna be your favorite 90s gore action movie where it's all violence with no sense behind it. Just action figures ramming into one another.

10- Does the Ngannou/Overeem winner gets the "The UFC would like you to face Stipe Miocic on -insert date here-" sprung up on them?

11-  So Dominick Reyes is arguably the most exciting prospect at 205 lbs in a long long time---but I can't help but feel like Jeremy Kimball is going to be a step too far for him in his development. I kind of think the UFC thinks so too since it's buried on the FP prelims where a loss can almost be hidden.

12- Would a loss to Tecia Torres expose Michelle Waterson as being a PVZ-esque hype job?

Must Wins

1- Michelle Waterson

Might as well just flow from A to B, right? Waterson came into the UFC off a loss after the organization had been hounding Invicta to free her up for a while. She went 2-0 and WME-IMG actually signed her and took over as her media reps. The response off of that was a loss to Rose Namajunas where she was outmatched from the get go. Waterson says she went out for a while to get stronger and balance her aggression in the cage (she felt Rose just swarmed her from the jump and she was too timid on the feet) so hopefully we're going to see a new and improved Waterson.  She is still super markketable, talented and has exciting fights more often than not. A loss to Tecia Torres would be really tough on her career and would put a lot of things into question, primarily whether she's big enough for 115 lbs or whether this entire thing is really a new PVZ.

2- Eddie Alvarez

Alvarez exorcised a lot of demons when he beat RDA for the title and ended the bullshit about him just being a good fighter outside of the UFC who couldn't hang (loss to Cerrone and two ugly split decision wins weren't helping). He never had a chance vs McGregor where he was basically knocked out by the first left hand that landed. The last fight vs Dustin Poirier was, I suppose, the return of the Eddie Alvarez of old. He got hurt, survived, found whatever it is that makes him insane and then used it in the second round. A blatantly illegal knee ended the night for Poirier and Alvarez but for a BRIEF second, Eddie Alvarez was the man he was in all those wars. He's had a lot of wear and tear on his body from fighting great competition for little fanfare. The UFC version of Eddie Alvarez is a little smarter, a lot more chinny and the epitome of age kicking in too late to protect the body. Alvarez vs Gaethje really does feel like a battle between Eddie Alvarez retro and Eddie Alvarez off the shelf. Justin Gaethje has a ton of Alvarez in his game while being younger and hitting way harder---but does Eddie still have some magic left?

3- Dominick Reyes

205 lbs needs Dominick Reyes in the worst way. The under 30 LHW prospect got into the UFC on short notice after a viral headkick KO and he did little to disappointed in stomping out Joachim Christenson. Still I think we can admit that Christensen is ways away from being UFC quality and so Reyes still hasn't beaten someone of note. Jeremy Kimball isn't great shakes BUT he has a very deceptive record. He started his career 5-3 and since then he's gone 10-3 which includes a 1-1 stint at Bellator and wins over dudes with far more fanfare than he (TUF finalist Matt Van Buren, Cody Mumma and Chidi Njokuani all ring a bell). This is a sneaky test of Reyes' ability and I'm hoping he'll pass it.

Can't Miss Fights

1-  Justin Gaethje vs Eddie Alvarez

2- Jose Aldo vs Max Holloway

3- Francis Ngannou vs Alistair Overeem

4-Henry Cejudo vs Sergio Pettis

5- Alex  Oliveira vs Yancy Medeiros