#this one made numbers on the bird app

[wikigabis]

Umineko Characters as bottles rolling down the stairs

[moondirti]

sorry to the soft simon lovers but i am fixating on the idea of him being too abrasive for greater society. no, hear me out. he can't be normal after what he’s been through. after what he's done.

cw: dead dove. sadism. inferred sexism and stalking. punitive harassment. idk guys he's gross. 18+ MDNI

he's just a little too odd, grim, ugly, cruel, rude. he stares too long and makes jokes that strike the wrong chord in most. he's into things that are not as sexual as they are humiliating to his partners, and can not be satisfied by any relationship his therapist would deem as healthy. even physically, he's torn in all the wrong places. his scars aren’t rugged but almost painful to look at. his hands are huge and calloused and 60 grit sandpaper against soft skin. his nose is crooked. his hair is shorn short. he has a mean smile, watery eyes.

the one thing keeping him from being completely ostracised is the flag on his arm, the one he fights for. but it's like putting a tarp over some horrible, disfigured mess – you can still see the general shape of it underneath. most shrug it off as fine, go figure. you teach a soldier to kill and they cope by being killers. it's funny because simon's issues began way before he enlisted – he spoors it back to conception, when his father gave him a part of himself that can never be scoured clean. the military is just where he resides to conceal the stink of miasma he'll never rid of. piss over piss. putting a reason to the barbarity.

for a while, it's enough. he sticks to the corners. for all his sadism, he's not keen on subjecting the general public to his complications. he's smart enough to separate good from what makes him feel good. he only interacts with others like him – price, mostly, who's better at playing pretend but has issues that bury their roots just as deep. or maybe he's able to see simon for what he really is, and the novelty of not having to bite his tongue is enough to form a gossamer bridge of friendship. he sleeps with masochists who don't know what's good for them, all of them men (though it never pays when they're into what he's inflicting). in between missions, he'll disappear to his shitty apartment that he pays for in cash and drink himself to oblivion as he scrolls through a deprecating XXX site.

if he gets inebriated enough, he'll open up tinder and swipe through the birds advertising themselves, as if he were the holy arbitrator of what's attractive. safe because he made it so that no one would match with him; his profile is blank. no bio, no age. Riley as his first name and a picture of a shutterstock german shepherd because having one photo was a requirement.

the lifestyle probably exacerbates his problems.

maybe that's why he reaches a point of no return when he gets a text late one night. he doesn't give his number to anyone, so the only app it could be from–

your dog's cute. what's his name?

it's to his sloshed astonishment that someone swiped right on him. not even him, but a barebones, dodgy profile he curated to keep everyone at arms length when he chooses to indulge in his destructive habits. you're cute too, suspiciously darling and a whole open book – five pictures, a colourful description and your city of residence. you cannot be short of options, certainly not enough to drive you to a point of desperation, so there's no mistaking what this is.

you're setting up a little pet project. something to bat at like a cat does a ball of yarn, with no intention to commit or ever see him in real life. perhaps you chose him because there’s nowhere to go but up. or because his disinterest seems glaringly obvious, and a simple risk assessment told you that you wouldn't suffer an obsessive stalker if you ever chose to ghost him.

unfortunately for you, that couldn't be further from the truth. that simple question is enough to push him over the edge.

he's tired of holding back.

[star-suh]

Video Games

Mark Lee x Male Reader

cw: dom top mark, musk kink, armpit kink, established relationship, angry sex, sex toys, ass stuffing as a punishment, breeding, degradation, rimjob, ass slapping.

an: thank you so much for all the support this year 😭😭 i really appreciate it ♡. happy new year and hope 2024 is full of happiness for you all. *plays after like at 12:00 am so the final chorus fireworks matches with the new year ones 🥳*

—

yn was busy playing video games and ignoring his boyfriend mark, something that always pisses him off. “yn i'm getting mad come here and help me. and stop ignoring me” mark shouted on the other side of the room, “i can't i'm playing right now. don't distract me or i'm gonna die”.

that was mark's last straw, how is a video game more important than spending time as a couple?. “hey you stupid ass~” mark stopped watching how yn was laying on the floor wearing just jockstraps leaving his ass out for everyone who passed by to see. mark was mad but the sight in front of him made him rock hard too, a big bulge was forming in his pants so he decided to kill two birds with one stone.

“hey” mark shouted making sure that yn wouldn't hear him because of the headphones with loud music he was wearing, "that's it you little bitch, after this you're not going to want to ignore me anymore”. he discarded his pants and underwear, with his knees on each side of yn he slowly introduced his cock on the tight hole in front of him, how yn didn't feel anything? well one thing mark has always noticed is that when he is focused on something everything around him is as if it did not exist.

when his tip was already inside yn, with one hard slam mark put his cock all in, making yn emit a loud moan and making his legs tremble. “hngh.. mark, what the fuck~ ahh~”; “what the fuck what little bitch, don't you like it when i slam my cock inside your dirty hole hmm?”. “yesh~ marki–” yn couldn't finish his sentence because mark suddenly started to choke him and accelerated his thrusts "you don't have the right to call me like that when you've behaved like a brat all day".

mark now has yn folded in the floor, sucking the other's hole and spitting on it “you're so desperate, clenching your slutty ass on my tongue as if you hadn't just had my cock inside you. such a greedy ass” after he said that he started to slapping it right in the hole, splashing the remains of saliva that were on it and producing dirty wet sounds “fuck those wet sounds are making me so horny” mark added.

mark was having the best day of his life, using yn to pleasure himself, drops of sweat sliding down his body until they finally reach the base of his shaft where they helped to produce that delicious wet sound that he liked. meanwhile yn was licking and sniffing mark's armpits “i love your musk mark.. it smells so manly.. i feel dizzy” he whispered. “then keep sniffing whore, wipe away all the sweat using your tongue”.

just when yn was about to cum mark stopped and went walking towards his room, “damn this motherfucker is trying to edge me” murmured yn closing his eyes, when suddenly he felt a spanking on his thigh, "don't fall asleep, this it's not over yet". yn saw how mark was removing the plastic from something, curiously he lifted his head and saw two spherical objects with the size of a ping pong ball, "sort them online and i think that now is a good time to test them".

first he introduce one and then another, then using his cock to push them deeper “good boy, they're so deep inside you" with an evil smile mark showed yn his phone with an app that has the numbers 1 to 5. the top put his finger right on the 5, turning on the vibrators at max, it made yn's body spasm and shake violently. the vibration plus mark's cock overstimulated him instantly, causing his cock to splurt several ropes of cum, some of which landed on his face and on mark's chin.

yn's hole was clenching so hard that mark was grunting like a beast trying to hold his orgasm but the vibrators that were right above his tip made him cum seconds later, emptying all his balls inside the other.

“shit this is so hot” mark says panting, resting his head on yn's chest, “damn mark.. you destroyed my hole” adds yn. as he said that mark takes out his cock smeared and dripping with his cum, followed by the two vibtator balls that fell to the floor in a little pool of cum, “you look so hot all wrecked by my cock.. that gaping hole is making me so horny.. fuck!” he shouted that last word while stroking his cock that was hardening again "i think they're going in here" mark grabs the vibrators and spits at them and then spits at the hole, watching excited how the spit disappears inside the other's velvety walls “let's go for round two. i'm gonna fuck out that bratty attitude of yours.. and make you my submissive whore”. mark sets the vibrator at the maximum speed, enjoying all the pleasure and already imagining all the loads with which he will fill yn up to the brim.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

hii!! First of all ur theme is so aesthetically pleasing and I love all the nagi. I like binge read all of your event works and *chefs kiss*. Could I request a piece for karasu with the theme of like academic rivals/classmates? No worries if not, hoping ur doing well and taking care of urself!

On an unrelated note I saw that post about rude comments and im so sorry that’s happening to you! I honestly don’t know what drives ppl to bother leaving nasty comments esp when it’s not like they’re being forced to read anything T-T Hoping to send you a bit of love to counter those trolls!

── FIVE WAYS TO KILL A CROW

Synopsis: Crows are clingy birds, and Tabito Karasu’s feelings are hurt easier than you realize. (part two here!) (part three here!)

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Karasu x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 9.1k

Content Warnings: academic rivals to lovers, karasu is an asshole, reader is also an asshole, jealous karasu 😍, hiori randomly pulls up at one point for some reason??, yukimiya requests to follow one (1) person and accidentally causes the most dramatic pseudo breakup ever

A/N: anon i used to pray for times like these 😭😩 LMAOAO karasu is my fav (behind nagi ofc) but i’ve never gotten around to writing him so getting this request made me SO excited HAHA. i haven’t done anything rivals/enemies to lovers before so fingers crossed this doesn’t feel too awkward or unrealistic or rushed anything!! and yayyy i love my little nagi theme (and also nagi in general) i’m glad you like it too!! and my writing too, you’re so sweet 🥹 there will always be jerks unfortunately but lovely people like you make it all worth it 💖 thank you again and i hope this is kind of what you were looking for 🫶🏻

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

ONE: POISON IT

You could hardly contain your smile as you sauntered up to Tabito Karasu’s desk, your exam held behind your back. He was sitting by himself — his seat partner was sick this week, from what you had heard, so he had taken the chance to spread out his things and stretch his legs. When he noticed you, he raised his eyebrows, mouth tugging into a frown at your amusement.

“What?” he said. You brandished the paper in front of you, irises sparkling as you leaned over to rest your forearms on the desk.

“I got full marks on the last Chemistry exam,” you said. Karasu made a face at you, snatching the test from your hands and scrunching his face up as he inspected it.

“Seriously?” he said.

“Seriously,” you said. “What did you get?”

He crossed his arms and looked away. “Not telling.”

“You definitely failed!” you said in delight, taking back the exam and laughing at him. “How embarrassing. You failed the easiest test of the year, and yet you consider Chemistry to be one of your best subjects? I can’t wait to see how badly you do during finals week.”

“I did not fail,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I got a ninety-eight.”

“Ninety-eight! That’s even worse than outright failure,” you said. “You were so close to perfection, and yet in the end, you fell short. It must sting for things to work out like that.”

“Yes, I’m positively wounded,” he said dryly before batting his eyelashes at you. From anyone else, the rapid switch in demeanor would’ve left you reeling, but the shifting mood was to be expected from him. “Will you give me a kiss and make it better?”

You rolled up your test and smacked him on the head with it. “No.”

“Anyways, my overall grade in the class is still higher than yours, because rankings were updated today and I’m still number one, so I’m not sure what cause you have to be boasting,” he said.

“Hm, but did you notice who’s number one in Modern Literature?” you said, pulling out your phone and opening the school’s app, which listed each class’s rankings in every subject. “Yup, that’s right, me.”

“Good job, Y/N!” he said, clapping mockingly. “Shall we have a party? It’s a big occasion — the mediocre number two has finally done something of such note that she’s number one for the first time in her life.”

“I’ve been number one plenty of other times!” you snapped. “For your information, I’ve been first in the class in mathematics and history every year since middle school, so who are you to be acting like this is a first? If anyone’s mediocre, it’s you!”

He raised his hands in the air innocently, his trademark smirk gracing his features once more now that he had succeeded in irritating you, as was his typical goal.

“Alright, alright, no need to be upset,” he said. “It’s not good for you. Clouds your judgment.”

“In what way?” you said.

“I mean, somehow, you got the two of us confused,” he said. “And we’re nothing alike.”

“I did no such thing,” you said.

“Well, I seem to recall you calling me mediocre, but between the two of us, the subpar one is obviously you,” he said, flicking your forehead. You slapped his hand away.

“You — the bell is going to ring, so I’m going to go back to my seat, but just so you know, you’re way more mediocre than me, Mr. Two-Percent-Short!” you said.

“Stellar comeback!” he called out. “My ego is bruised beyond healing!”

“Good!” you called back, ignoring the sarcasm. “Maybe it’ll return to a more normal size. Your head has grown too big, it’s almost as ridiculous as that hair of yours!”

“Leave the hair alone!”

During your free period, you decided to go to the library for some peace and quiet to work on your homework and find some of the sources you needed for your next research project. For belonging to a high school, the library was surprisingly extensive, and you had managed to find relevant information for every other project you had ever done in it, so you had high hopes. Unfortunately, it seemed this latest assignment was more obscure than anything you had completed before, so on your second lap of the shelves where the books, if they existed, would be located, you resigned yourself to giving up.

Just then, a volume caught your eye. The cover was shiny and pristine, the spine still unbent with newness. Crouching, you pulled it out, and when you saw the title emblazoned across the cover in bright yellow lettering, you began to laugh, making a beeline to the checkout counter with it tucked under your arm.

“Hey, Y/N! How was your morning?” your best friend said as you set your things down next to her in the cafeteria. You hummed in agreement, searching the room for a familiar head of dark hair. “You good? Looking for someone? Let me guess: your secret boyfriend that you’re keeping from the rest of us.”

“Yeah, I’m looking for Karasu,” you said before the rest of her words registered. “No!”

“You’re finally coming out and saying it?” she said, holding her hands to her heart and pretending to swoon. “I’ve been waiting for you to confess.”

“He’s not my secret boyfriend that I’m keeping from everyone, I’m just looking for him!” you said.

“Could’ve fooled me,” she said. “What do you need him for, anyways?”

“I got a book for him in the library,” you said.

“Right, and this is the guy you hate? Your ‘mortal enemy’ or whatever?” she checked.

“Yes,” you said.

“But you…got a book for him from the library, and now you’re looking for him so that you can give it to him?” she said. You scoffed.

“When you put it like that, it sounds different than it really is,” you said. “Trust me, this isn’t a nice gesture or anything. You can consider it revenge.”

“When are you going to get over this stupid rivalry?” she said. “He’s not even that bad, you know.”

“Not even that bad? Not even that bad? Are we talking about the same Karasu here? I’m referring to Tabito, not his older sister,” you said.

“Ah, I think so? He’s a nice guy,” she said.

“He is the spawn of the devil! And he’s the one who started it, so I’ll stop hating him once he apologizes and means it,” you said.

“Do you think he even remembers that?” she said. “It was in middle school.”

You glared at her. “I remember it. If he doesn’t, well, that’s just more of a reason for me to dislike him on principle.”

“Okay, okay, whatever you say,” she said. “Sorry for complimenting him. He’s awful and rude and mean. I think he’s sitting outside with some of his soccer friends, if you still want to find him.”

“Thank you!” you said, instantly forgetting that you were upset with her for taking Karasu’s side instead of yours. “Watch my stuff, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“See you soon,” she said. “Have fun. Actually, maybe it’s more realistic for me to just tell you not do anything that’ll get you expelled.”

You waved her off as you marched out to the courtyard where Karasu and his friends were lounging, their chairs positioned in the shade so that they did not overheat while they ate. None of them noticed you approaching until you were tapping Karasu on the shoulder and smiling at him sweetly.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” he said, sounding oddly flustered. One of his friends snorted, and more than a few chuckled, but you ignored all of them in favor of setting your bag on the armrest of Karasu’s chair.

“Hi, Karasu. I was in the library earlier and I saw this book that reminded me of you, so I took the liberty of checking it out,” you said.

“Oh,” he said. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“You’re so considerate, Y/N!” one of his friends said.

“We’re all so jealous of Karasu here,” another friend, the one who you believed had snorted, said. “You’re way too pretty for him.”

“Shut up,” Karasu said, sticking up his middle finger at his friend, though none of the group paid him much mind. In fact, it seemed to egg them on more, as they continued to hurl jabs at Karasu while simultaneously incessantly complimenting you.

You didn’t respond to any of them, instead pulling out the book and handing it to Karasu, interlacing your fingers and waiting for his reaction. At first he seemed confused, and then dismay dawned upon his features as he realized what he was holding in his hands: a copy of Chemistry for Dummies.

“What the fuck?” he said. You patted him on the shoulder.

“It’s only suitable,” you said. Suddenly, his expression cleared, and he beamed at you, which caused unease to brew in your stomach. You knew for a fact that he was about to say something infuriating, and you mentally prepared yourself to respond.

“What a roundabout way of telling me you need tutoring! Of course, I’m happy to help you anytime you want,” he said, tilting back in his chair so that he could cross his arms over his chest arrogantly.

“Why would I want tutoring from someone who does worse than me in the class?” you shot back, crossing your own arms in retaliation.

One of his friends whistled. “She got you there, Tabito.”

“Enough out of you,” Karasu said through gritted teeth. His friend winked at you and mouthed ‘nice one.’

“Look, man, all I’m saying is that if you want to ask out such a beautiful girl, you’ve gotta have a little more finesse than that!” he said.

“He can have all the finesse in the world, but I’d still say no,” you said. His friends hollered with raucous laughter, which caused Karasu’s face to turn red, but you only pressed the book into his hands. “It’s due in two weeks. That should be long enough, right? Make sure you return it on time, please, I don’t want late fines.“

“I hope you go into debt because of this stupid book,” he said.

“Aww,” you cooed. “You’ll be the one paying it off, so it doesn’t matter to me. See you around, Karasu — or, hopefully not.”

TWO: SHOOT IT

You and Karasu had met in middle school. The two of you had been assigned to work on a presentation together, and he had told you during your first meeting that because you were a dunce, you should just listen to him and do whatever he said. Ever since that day, you had done everything you could to show him how much better than him you were; for his part, he found great joy in getting on your nerves and so took part in every argument with pleasure.

You had long ago proved his middle school self wrong, by anyone’s standards, but at this point it was a habit for you to hate Tabito Karasu as well as a habit for him to hate you back. And of course, habits were hard to form but harder to break, so you would probably continue in that manner until the day you graduated and left him behind for good.

It was just the two of you who did not get along. Your friends were cordial with him and his ilk, and you did not really mind his little group all that much, crude though they sometimes were. After all, it was just in the manner of teenage boys, and when they were not taking advantage of your presence to make fun of Karasu, they were actually a pretty agreeable sort.

In fact, your friend groups tended to coexist most of the time, even having lunch together every now and again — though they were always careful to ensure that you and Karasu were kept entirely separate, or else you both were guaranteed to ruin the cheerful camaraderie with your sharp tongues and quick tempers. The measures they took were admirable, but unfortunately, they were not always enough. After all, what were precautions when compared with inevitabilities?

“Oh my god!” you squealed. “Guys! Oh my god, oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening?”

“Can’t believe what’s happening?” your best friend said, speaking for everyone at the table. They were all tuned in to you now, wondering what the big news might be that would bring about such a reaction from you, given how put-together you tended to be.

“Do you remember that one model I happened to meet while I was out last weekend? Kenyu Yukimiya? He just requested to follow me on social media!” you said.

“No way!” your best friend said.

“Way!” you said. The only warning you got was an arm pressing against your back, and then your phone was abruptly snatched from your hands. You gasped, spinning in your seat and scowling when you realized that the culprit was none other than that scavenging crow, Tabito Karasu.

“What the hell? He’s average at best, why are you so excited?” he said, scrolling through Yukimiya’s profile, his eyes narrowed critically. “Y/N, don’t you have any standards?”

“You’re probably the only person in the entire country who doesn’t find him gorgeous,” you said, exhaling dreamily as you took your phone back from him and stared at the artful manner Yukimiya was posing in for his profile photo. “He was even better looking in person. And sonice, too! They don’t make men like that often.”

Karasu frowned and swiped at your phone again. You held it out of his reach, reaching across the bench to press your foot against his chest, effectively holding him back from further attempts at thievery.

“Let me look at him again!” he said.

“Um, no,” you said. “I don’t need you making more fun of him. I know you’re jealous, but expressing it like this only makes you uglier, just so you know.”

“Looks like they’re back at it again,” one of your friends said, massaging her temples.

“Yup,” one of Karasu’s teammates said.

“Ugly? Ugly? You’re calling me ugly? Have you looked in a mirror recently? Also, get your gross shoe off of my shirt!” Karasu said.

“I have looked in a mirror recently, actually, and incidentally I’ve also been keeping an eye on my follow requests. Guess what? I’m obviously good looking, since a legitimate model wants to follow me! How many celebrities request to follow you, huh? I bet the answer is zero!” you said, though you did do him the favor of swinging your leg back, allowing him to brush himself off in disdain.

“Lots of soccer players want to follow me,” he said. “I’m quite good, you know.”

“That doesn’t count,” you said. “It has nothing to do with how you look. They’d request to follow you no matter how hideous and poorly styled you and your hair are.”

“Are they seriously arguing about which of them is worse looking?” Karasu’s teammate said.

“I suppose so,” your friend said. “They’re both really hot, though, so I don’t know what the big deal is…”

“Geez, they’ll take any excuse to go at it, huh?” Karasu’s teammate said.

“Pretty much,” your friend said.

“Guess all of that tension has to go somewhere,” his teammate said.

“Exactly,” your friend said, shaking her head as she finished up her lunch.

“That model probably only works for horror magazines!” Karasu said. “It barely even counts!”

“He was in Vogue Japan,” you said smugly. “Look it up, stupid.”

“So what?” he said.

“So he’s handsome,” you said. “Like I said, it’s okay if you’re envious of him, as long as you accept it instead of doing this whole weird denial thing. I don’t blame you for it — in fact, I thought you would be. You don’t have much going for you overall, do you? In all honesty, it’s only natural for you to feel like this when faced with what you lack.”

Karasu’s eyes widened, and then he stood abruptly, picking up his bag with one arm and haphazardly pulling it onto his back. “Goodbye.”

“Bye,” you said, not really caring one way or another what he did with himself. Actually, you would prefer it if he wasn’t there, interrupting your meal and your daydreaming about your impending romance with Kenyu Yukimiya.

“Wow, Y/N,” your best friend said once Karasu was gone. “You’re kind of dumb, you know that?”

“What are you talking about?” you said.

“It’s not her fault,” another one of Karasu’s teammates said. “He’s not much better.”

“Huh?” you said.

“Never mind,” your best friend said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I have a migraine now.”

“Want some ibuprofen?” Karasu’s teammate said. She accepted it gratefully, and nothing more was said on the subject. The rest of lunch passed in a peaceful manner, though strangely, Karasu did not return.

It should’ve made you happy. You wondered, then, why it felt so odd without him there, like there was a gaping maw sitting in the place that should’ve been occupied by him.

THREE: DROWN IT

Ever since the day that Yukimiya had requested to follow you, you and Karasu hadn’t spoken. He refused to make eye contact with you in the few classes the two of you had together, keeping his gaze lowered to his work and his shoulders hunched away from you. You didn’t even try to talk to him; something told you that it would not be well-received, and you weren’t anywhere near confrontational enough to bring up his odd behavior, so the time without him dragged on and on, seemingly without end.

At first, you were happy, and you told your friends as much. It was a much-needed break from the constant aggravation he brought you, and you found your classes without your competition to be almost boring in their simplicity.

“The more you say you’re happy that you and Karasu aren’t talking, the less it sounds believable,” your best friend said, taking a sip from her juice box.

“Believe it! This is what I’ve been wanting since middle school,” you said.

“Is it?” she said. “It sounds like you’re kind of upset.”

“Am not!” you said. She shrugged.

“Sure,” she said, drawing out the word. “Definitely not.”

“Why would I be upset?” you said.

“You tell me,” she said.

“I’m telling you that I’m not upset. You’re the one with the theory, so give me some evidence to substantiate it,” you said.

“Fine,” she said. “You talk about him all of the time, even when you guys are getting along — or, at least, your twisted little version of being friendly, which isn’t friendly by anyone else’s standards but it seems to work for you two, so I won’t comment further. You keep telling us that you’re so delighted he’s leaving you alone, but you do this thing with your face when you say it that makes it super obvious you’re not. It’s not the kind of behavior you’d display when discussing someone you hate as much as you claim to hate him. Finally, there’s a reason half the school thinks you guys are dating, and it’s not just the obvious aesthetic appeal of that match.”

“What? I thought you were just trying to bother me when you brought that up!” you said. She shook her head.

“No, it’s a common misconception. It’s why no one’s ever asked you out. They all think you’re already taken. Actually, the other day, a guy asked me if I thought he might have a chance with you now that you and Karasu had broken up,” she said.

“What’d you say?” you said, half in horror, half in fascination.

“I told him probably not, and that you and Karasu hadn’t broken up, because you were never together in the first place,” she said.

“Oh, okay,” you said.

“Should I have said something else?” she said. You shook your head.

“No,” you said. “What else would you have said?”

“Dunno,” she said. “Look, you need to cheer up. I’m sure that if you just try to talk to him, things will go back to normal in an instant. Then you can return to complaining about him like usual.”

“Talk to him? About what?” you said. She gave you an incredulous look.

“You were pretty mean to him the other day, Y/N,” she said.

“It wasn’t any meaner than what he says to me on the regular,” you said. “And what I say to him in return. I don’t see why he’d be more or less offended.”

“I think it was a little worse than what you typically say,” she said. “Plus, the context was different.”

“How so?” you said. She shook her head.

“That’s for him to explain, not me,” she said. “Come on, don’t be stubborn. Work things out with him. I miss hanging out with the guys.”

“Ah, so that’s why it matters to you,” you said. “Sorry to say it, but I don’t have any plans at attempting conversation with him anytime soon. Like I said, things are finally calm and stress-free for me. He’s the one being immature, as always, so why’s it up to me to make things better?”

“Immature?” your best friend said. “You’ve held a grudge against him since middle school.”

“And?” you said. She squinted at you before pursing her lips.

“Well, I guess the two of you really are made for one another,” she said.

“What?”

The next week would mark the beginning of the swimming unit in PE class, which you were actually looking forward to. You loved to swim, you had ever since you were a child and your parents had brought you into the water for the first time, and the thought of getting to earn a good grade for something you liked doing in the first place was an agreeable on.

In preparation, you decided to stop by the pool after classes were over so that you could acclimate yourself to the motions of the strokes once again. The swim team’s practice had been canceled, and no one else ever used the pool, so you would have the place to yourself, which was just about the closest thing to heaven you could imagine while still living on Earth.

Changing into your school-issued bathing suit and putting your things into a locker, you tied your hair back so that it was out of the way and stepped into the steaming indoor pool deck. The water was a bright cerulean shade, the lanes split by lane-lines which alternated colors to match your school’s emblem. When you dipped your toe into the deep end, you found it was warm, not cold like you had feared. The school didn’t splurge on heating the water of the rarely-used pool, so usually, it was all but freezing. You supposed that they must’ve had complaints from last year’s PE classes, so they had restarted the heaters in order to ensure that no one had any cause to whine about the temperature this year.

For a moment, you just sat on the tiled edge, your legs swishing about in the water, the heels of your palms pressing against the lip of the pool as you closed your eyes and luxuriated in the tangy scent of chlorine. So lost were you that you almost didn’t notice the door swinging open, but the clang of it shutting was unmistakable. Thinking it must’ve been a confused swim team member showing up to a practice that wasn’t happening, you opened your eyes, your lips parting to issue a reprimand that died before it could take shape.

It wasn’t a swim team member. It was Tabito Karasu, wearing a pair of swim trunks and nothing else, his jaw taut and his fists clenched as he inched towards the water. He hadn’t even noticed you, and you didn’t feel inclined to announce yourself, so you let your elbows dig into your thighs, your chin resting in your hands as you observed him.

You had known that he played soccer almost as long as you had known his name. It was the entire reason he was so popular and well-regarded in the school, and an inextricable part of his identity, but until now, you hadn’t quite considered what that actually meant. After all, you only ever saw him in the loose, modest clothing of the school’s uniform, so why would you jump to the conclusion that he was so — so — well, you were loath to admit it, but he had a striking body, and, now that he wasn’t being all cocky and maddening, you could appreciate that even his face was of a similar quality.

Blinking, you cocked your head as he extended a graceful foot towards the first stair leading into the shallow end. Water splashed against it, and he yanked it back like he had been scalded. You could not help yourself from giggling as he did this once and then twice again. On the third attempt, you forgot that the two of you weren’t acknowledging one another and cupped your hands around your mouth to amplify your voice.

“What are you doing?” you said.

“Who — Y/N? I didn’t realize anyone else was in here!” he said, stepping back from the pool and straightening his shorts, though there was nothing wrong with them that required straightening. You sprang to your feet and walked over to him, leaving wet footprints in your wake as you peered at him curiously.

“I was just going to do some laps to ensure that I’m at my best for the swimming unit next week. Did you have the same idea?” you said.

“Something like that,” he said.

“What’s with that whole ritual, though?” you said. “It’s not that cold. You should just get in.”

“Definitely not,” he said. You furrowed your brow.

“Okay,” you said. “Why are you at the pool, then, if you don’t want to go in the water?”

“It’s nothing you need to be concerned with!” he said. “Why are you so nosy? Just go away.”

“I was here first,” you said.

“Fine,” he said, spinning on his heel. “I’ll go, then.”

“Wait! Karasu, wait,” you said, grabbing onto his wrist as he made to leave. “Look, we don’t have to talk to one another or anything. We’re experienced enough at ignoring each other, so there’s not an issue in both of us being here.”

“Is that what you want?” he said.

“Yeah, sure,” you said. He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing, and you thought he would say something, but he only nodded curtly.

“Fine,” he said. You gave him an expectant look, but he did not move from the spot he was rooted in, so you thought that you might as well take the initiative. Looping around to the deep end, you inhaled and then dove into the water headfirst, staying under for as long as you could before finally surfacing and allowing yourself to settle into the familiar undulations that came with swimming.

After a few laps, you took a break, peeking up over the concrete to look at Karasu, who was still standing stubbornly in place, his nose wrinkling whenever he glanced at the pool.

“Hey,” you said. “Are you scared of the water or something?”

He froze. “Who told you that?”

“No one?” you said. “It’s pretty easy to tell as an onlooker. Were you planning on trying to get over your fear by coming to swim when no one was here? That’s dangerous if you don’t know how. You could drown.”

“I’m not scared of the water,” he said.

“Really? Then why’re you just standing there?” you said. His mouth opened and closed a few times, and then finally he hung his head in reluctant defeat.

“Whatever,” he said. Judging by the way he tensed immediately after the confession, he was expecting you to say something cruel, but you only boosted yourself out of the water and tapped him on the shoulder.

“I can help you, if you’d like,” you said. “I’m good at swimming.”

“Why would I want your help? And why would you even offer it in the first place? This is just one more subject you can beat me in, and that’s all you care about, so save it,” he said. “Congratulations, Y/N. You get to be number one this time.”

He looped a dry towel around his neck and left you standing alone, shivering and dripping pool water, a puddle forming around your feet as you gazed at the door he had vanished through.

The class rankings updated again after the swimming unit was over. You were in first place. Karasu didn’t even make it to the top ten. You wanted to celebrate the victory — it was the first time you had beaten him so thoroughly, after all — but for some reason, it didn’t really feel like something worth celebrating.

FOUR: STONE IT

School without Karasu was lonelier than you thought it would be. You hadn’t realized just how much you relied on him until he wasn’t there anymore. Without him, there wasn’t anyone you could exchange looks with across the room when somebody said something ridiculous in class. There wasn’t anyone who you could talk to in the minutes before the period began. There wasn’t anyone who made you push yourself to be better. What was the point of being first if Karasu wasn’t on your heels, ensuring that you stayed on the top for fear of losing to him? It was boring and lonely to try if he wasn’t doing the same.

You and he were still one and two, but it didn’t matter much anymore. The rankings were just numbers. They didn’t mean anything when Karasu still refused to even exchange pleasantries with you. Why would you want to compete when the other party didn’t share your interest? Now, if you managed to pull out ahead of him, it felt more like you had kicked a dog that was already down than if you had actually won anything. When he got first over you, it didn’t fuel your ambition any. You just wished he would come over and gloat instead of sitting there so solemnly, like none of it had ever mattered to him in the first place.

You couldn’t understand why he was so angry. What had you said that was so egregious? You hardly remembered the conversation you had had with him, it was that thoughtlessly done. You really hadn’t meant much if anything by it. One second, the two of you had been squabbling as you were prone to doing, and the next, he was so furious that he couldn’t bear to interact with you even still.

The day you were ambushed was nondescript. It was just like any other Wednesday, and you were walking back home from school when you were forced to stop in your tracks. A tall man — no, he was a boy, probably a year or two younger than you based on his soft and innocent expression — was barring your way, his arms outstretched and feet planted firmly in the ground to prove the depth of his conviction. He had pale hair and sky-colored eyes framed by the longest eyelashes you had ever seen on anyone, man or woman, with a small mouth pinched into an expression of discontent and lines like tire tracks between his eyebrows.

“Who are you?” you said warily, reaching for your phone, though you hardly knew who you would call. The setting was wrong for this to be a mugging, as it was sunny out and you were on a well-traveled street, but you didn’t really know what else to expect from the stranger, who could certainly outmuscle you if it came to it despite his lovely appearance.

“Yo Hiori,” he said. “I play on Bambi Osaka with Karasu. You’re Y/N L/N, correct?”

“Oh, one of the soccer guys?” you said. “Uh, hey. Yes, that’s me. Is something the matter? I’ve never seen you before. How do you even know who I am?”

“I’ve been watching Karasu for a while,” Hiori said with the utmost of seriousness, his hands dropping to his sides now that he was sure you weren’t going to run past him. “He’s a pretty fascinating person.”

“I’m sure,” you said, thinking to yourself that this Hiori kid was more than a little weird. Did Karasu know that he had acquired such a shadow? You supposed he must’ve. He had always been the observant type, so there was no way someone like Hiori would’ve escaped his keen notice.

“He’s been kind of down in the dumps recently, though. Even our coach noticed it. His playing hasn’t suffered too dramatically, but he’s the captain of the team, so he’s the guy everyone relies on for a funny pep talk or a word of advice when things are going south. Nowadays, however, when he’s off the field, he just sulks,” Hiori explained.

“I see,” you said. “That’s terrible.”

You meant it, too. Karasu without his asshole quips and ready jokes was a different person entirely. A person who you missed more than you could let on, even to yourself.

“It is,” Hiori said. “I took it upon myself to do some digging, and I’ve come to the conclusion that the reason is you.”

He was definitely a freak. You vowed to bring it up with Karasu, if he ever talked to you again. Even if he was already aware, it felt like a moral or civic duty of yours to ensure that he was fully informed about the extent that this child was inquiring into his life.

“What kind of, uh, digging do you mean?” you said, neatly avoiding the second thing he had said.

“It was pretty simple,” Hiori said. “One of the guys asked Karasu if he was acting off because he broke up with his girlfriend or something, and he got so mad that he left practice early. I opened up social media as soon as I got home and saw that you’re the only girl he follows, so by process of elimination, I figured the two of you were having some trouble in your relationship.”

“Relationship? I think you’re misunderstanding,” you said. “There’s no relationship. You could hardly even consider us friends.”

“Oh!” Hiori said. “I’m sorry. He’s mentioned you once or twice, so I just thought — and given what he said — and his reaction and all — no, I really am just sorry. It was wrong of me to make that assumption in the first place.”

“It’s alright,” you said. “I’m told it’s a relatively common misconception, so I can’t blame you. At least, it used to be. We haven’t really spoken in a while, so I guess everything thinks that it’s over, even though it never began in the first place.”

“You haven’t spoken in a while?” Hiori said. “Why not?”

“I think I said something that offended him, and we haven’t been on good terms since. Not that we ever really were in the first place,” you said.

“You did? He’s a pretty rational person, so it must’ve been something terrible for him to still be angry about it,” Hiori said.

“Maybe, but I don’t remember saying anything like that,” you said.

“What if you tell me how your last conversation went? Maybe I can help you,” he said.

“Sure, since you’re apparently the resident Karasu expert,” you said. “Wanna walk with me? I was heading home, but we can go to the convenience store and get some snacks or something instead. I don’t want to get in trouble for standing around in front of some random person’s house for too long.”

“Sounds good,” Hiori said. “There’s one a couple of minutes away, so we can head in that direction and keep talking as we go.”

“Great,” you said. “Okay, so the last time we talked…I think it was when Kenyu Yukimiya requested to follow me.”

“Who’s that?” Hiori said.

“He’s this model I met while I was shopping one day. Absolutely breathtaking,” you said. “Just really a stand-up guy. We’ve hung out a few times since then, he introduced me to the girlfriend I did not know he had, the works.“

“Yikes, unrequited love?” Hiori said with a wince.

“It was more of a celebrity crush. His girlfriend is super sweet, though, so I can’t complain. Anyways, I would consider them both casual acquaintances. The type you call to have a coffee with, but not the ones that help you move into a new apartment, you know?” you said.

“Uh, sure,” Hiori said in a tone which suggested he had no idea what you were talking about but was too scared to inquire further.

“Moving on, Yukimiya requested to follow me, and of course this was at the peak of my celebrity crush, so I started fawning over him, which prompted Karasu to take my phone and start insulting him,” you said.

“Interesting,” Hiori said.

“Then I called him ugly, and he called me ugly — that’s pretty standard for the two of us, so don’t look so shocked! After that, I said something about how I had expected him to be jealous of Yukimiya, since he didn’t have much going for him overall, so it made sense,” you said. “That’s when he left and things got weird.”

“Okay, I think I get it,” Hiori said. You waited for him to explain further. He smiled at you pleasantly.

“Right, so are you going to share with the class or am I meant to read your mind?” you said after a moment.

“I don’t want to give anything away that I shouldn’t,” he said. “But it’s a pretty simple issue to fix. Try thinking about what you said from his perspective.”

“He has a dumbass perspective. It’s impossible for me to think that way,” you said automatically.

“Do you think that he dislikes you?” Hiori said, taking two bottles of Yakult down from the shelf, handing one to you and keeping the other for himself.

“I’m not really sure how he feels about me, to tell you the truth,” you said.

“I don’t think he does,” Hiori said. “So, try thinking about someone you like and then imagine them saying to you what you said to them. Would you be inclined to be nice to them after that?”

“Well…” Your tongue was heavy and leaden in your mouth, and you ducked your head as you searched through your wallet for money. “No, not at all. I’d probably hate them for a really long time. Maybe forever.”

“That’s possible,” he said.

“Do you think he’ll hate me forever?” you said.

“Most likely not. Like I said earlier, he’s a rational person. I think that if you say sorry and sincerely mean it, he’ll forgive you. There’s a chance he won’t, though; you’ll have to listen to what he says and accept it,” Hiori said.

“But when? I hardly have the chance to see him in school. He just avoids me, and the building’s so big that it’s all but impossible to track him down!” you said.

“We have a soccer game in the evening today,” Hiori said. “I’m heading over there in a bit. Wanna come? You can talk to him once it’s over.”

“Am I allowed to?” you said.

“Why wouldn’t you be?” Hiori said. “If anyone says anything, just tell them I invited you. Here, I’ll give you the address and time now, and you can decide if you want to show up.”

“Okay,” you said, typing out his instructions in your notes app. “Thanks a lot for your help, Hiori.”

“Anytime!” he said. “Hope to see you at the game!”

“Even if I don’t go, I’d still like to meet you again. You’re a pretty cool kid,” you said, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Kind of weird, if I’m being fully honest, but cool nonetheless. Karasu’s lucky to have a teammate like you.”

He grinned, and it was a tender, shy thing, as if he was earnestly seeking your praise or approval — like how a cat would bring a dead rat to its master or a child would show their parents a treasured drawing. “Thank you. Even if you don’t try to talk to Karasu…maybe you can still come anyways?”

“Alright, then,” you said. “Since you asked so nicely, I guess I have to. I’ll be there.”

FIVE: TAME IT

The sun was nearing the horizon, but it still had not officially begun to set by the time you settled in the bleachers on Bambi Osaka’s side. Besides a couple of women your mother’s age and an elderly man who must’ve been someone’s grandfather, there weren’t any other spectators. Hiori had mentioned that this wasn’t a particularly serious game, as they didn’t even need to beat the team to make it to Nationals, so it was more like a friendly exhibition game than anything — hence the low turnout.

“Hello, dear,” a woman said when she noticed you sitting by yourself. “Are you friends with one of the players?”

“Yes. Um, Tabito Karasu? I’m his classmate,” you said. Technically, you were there on Hiori’s goodwill, not Karasu’s, but for you to not mention Karasu would be like a betrayal. You weren’t sure if it was him or yourself that you’d be betraying, but either way you did not want to chance it.

“You’re one of Karasu’s friends? Lucky you, then,” she said. “He’s a delightful boy, or so I’ve heard. This is my son’s first year on the team, and he was really nervous to join such a prestigious organization, but ever since his first day, all he can talk about is how amazing his captain is. Karasu’s tough on all of the players, but he really works hard to make all of them feel welcomed, too.”

Bambi Osaka’s team took the field, and you smiled when you saw Karasu in the front, his name across the back of his jersey, a pair of black gloves covering his large hands, an insolent leer on his face as he greeted the other team’s captain. He had not noticed you yet, and you were not sure if this was for the better or worse, because you wanted him to see you, but you didn’t want him to be distracted and play poorly as a result.

“He’s a wonderful person,” you agreed. “He’s the only one in the entire school who can keep up with me, academically or otherwise. I didn’t realize until recently how much I admire him for that.”

The woman’s eyes crinkled around the corners with the ease that came from a lifetime of happiness. For some reason, you thought that she knew something you did not, or could not, but it wasn’t uncomfortable that she did. It seemed to you that being left in the dark was just your lot this time around, and you found that oddly enough, it felt acceptable.

“Is this your first time coming to watch him?” she said.

“Yes, it is,” you said.

“You know, he has this habit before every match of scanning the stands, like he’s looking for someone. I thought it might be his parents, but at the last match, just about his entire family showed up, and he still seemed disappointed,” she said.

“That’s a shame,” you said noncommittally, not sure what else you should say. The woman shrugged.

“Well, I wonder what it’ll be like today,” she said. “There he goes.”

True to her words, Karasu was craning his neck towards the Bambi Osaka side, his eyes darting from person to person until they settled on you. You raised your hand hesitantly, waving at him, knowing that he probably wouldn’t reciprocate.

He turned away almost immediately, but not before you saw him fight back a smile — not the smug type he generally donned, but one you had only ever seen on him once or twice. It was one that made him seem charming and boyish and sweet, that made you want to take back every negative word you had ever said about him. Only now could you understand that it showed who he really was, that at his heart Karasu was that kind of person, not anything like the facade you were so accustomed to, which he showed you for the sole reason that it was what you unconsciously demanded of him.

You had judged him to be horrible, and so he became the bane of your existence. You had told him he was good for nothing, so he disappeared like he really was just that. Everything you said, Karasu went along with gamely, and you wished you could’ve known that earlier, so you would’ve spent less time hating him and more time comprehending these intricacies, which entranced you in the way a spider’s web entranced a butterfly.

“Looks like I don’t need to worry about that child any more,” the woman said as the referee blew the whistle to signal the start of the game.

“Pardon?” you said. “Were you talking to me?”

“No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I was just musing to myself. Ignore me. Let’s watch the game; I have a feeling that some of our players are going to go all out today.”

Bambi Osaka completely annihilated the other team. Maybe the match didn’t matter, but none of them played that way; instead, they were aggressive and focused, with Karasu at the forefront of every goal they made, commending his teammates and deriding his opposition in the same breath.

That was something you had not expected — he had a massively foul mouth when he played soccer. You had thought that he was rude when he spoke to you, but the things you overheard from him whenever he ran by within earshot made your conversations seem tame. You couldn’t help but pity the poor defenders that he shoved past and spat barbed-wire abuse at.

He was merciless and beautiful and you could probably spend a dozen more hours watching him play without even a trace of boredom, but by the time the sky had turned gold and the sun had dipped towards the ground, the game was over and the members of Bambi Osaka were packing up their things to leave for the night after yet another landslide win.

You snuck onto the field once you were extremely assured that nobody would be upset with you for it, making your way over to where Karasu was chugging a bottle of water.

“Hi,” you said when he was finished, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and tossing the now-empty bottle into his bag. “You played really well.”

“Thanks,” he said. There was impatience but also longing in his voice, like he wanted you to say something so badly but he knew you would not, would never, and so he would rather get the conversation over with and move on with the business of his life than stick around and waste time with you.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“What?” he said.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “Karasu, I’m really sorry. I don’t think that you have nothing going for you. I don’t know why I said that. Well, I do, it’s because I wanted to have the last word like I always do, but I don’t mind if I don’t have it this time. Or any other time. Or ever again.”

“What?” he repeated, as though he had been rendered dumb by your confession.

“I miss you,” you admitted. “I didn’t believe I could, but apparently, I can, and I do. A lot. I know that I’m unpleasant and disparaging and haughty when it comes to you, but I won’t be that way anymore if you forgive me for my vices one last time. If it means you’ll talk to me, I’ll be a fool. I’ll be in second place. I’ll be an idiot. But please, please forgive me.”

He took a deep breath. You handed him the bottle of kombucha that you had bought on your way to the game because you saw him drink it so frequently that you figured he must like it. He accepted it gingerly, holding it with the delicacy of a newborn, unscrewing the lid and sipping on it pensively.

“Alright,” he said.

“Alright?” you said.

“I’ll forgive you,” he said. “But on one condition.”

“Anything,” you said.

“You better not do anything as dumb as trying to be mediocre on purpose because you think it’ll make me feel better. What the hell is that proposition, huh? It’ll make me feel worse if anything! I like you because you’re unpleasant and disparaging and haughty and whatever else you said, not in spite of those qualities. I’m sure you heard me while I was playing…anyone who isn’t you would probably be terrified of me when I’m like that,” he said. “Just, y’know, I’m a person with feelings, too, so keep that in mind if you can. Oh, and don’t wait so long to say sorry next time, because it’s seriously annoying for me to feel all out-of-sorts for ages!” he said.

“That’s it?” you said.

“That’s it,” he said. “Hug?”

Ordinarily, you would’ve said no, but you were so weepy at the reconciliation that you nodded and let him embrace you, his arms caging you against his chest, holding you to him so that you could not escape.

“Ew!” you shouted when you registered what he was trying to do, shoving him off of you as he cackled and released you without much of a fight. “Gross, Karasu, you’re disgusting! Get away from me! I can’t believe you did that!”

“I can’t believe you fell for it!” he said as you frantically tried to wipe yourself off, though it was largely in vain. In your emotional state, you had forgotten that he was still drenched with sweat from the game, and you were now reaping the consequences of your poor decision making.

“You’re a bad person,” you said.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Whatever you say.”

“I probably deserved that one, though, so I won’t hold it against you,” you said.

“Smart decision,” he said. “Wait. Unrelated, but whatever ended up happening between you and that model dude? What was his name again?”

“Yukimiya? He has a girlfriend,” you said. “Oh, well. What can you do, right? I’m not upset about it. Besides, everyone and their mother thinks I have a boyfriend already, so it’s probably for the best that it worked out like this. I wouldn’t want his modeling career to be ruined by home-wrecking allegations or anything.”

“It must be a pretty serious not-relationship you’ve got there, if it’s the career-ending type,” he said.

“I’d say it’s pretty serious, yes,” you said. “He’s an awesome guy. You’d like him.”

“I’ll respect it, then,” he said. “But…if you ever find yourself not-breaking up with him, then, uh, let me know. I’ll take you on a date somewhere. We can argue and reminisce about the day we met over dinner or something. It’ll be super romantic.”

He said it casually, but you were more familiar with him than either of you ever could’ve predicted you’d be. He was secretly nervous about how big of a risk he had taken, fiddling with the zipper of his soccer bag, avoiding your eyes while he waited for your response. You let the silence stretch on for a minute, just to make him squirm, and then you poked him in the ribs.

“Karasu,” you said.

“What’s up?” he said, and he must’ve been trying very hard to keep his cool, but his anxiety transmitted through the endearing crack of his voice.

“I have to tell you something,” you said.

“Go ahead,” he said.

“I’m not-single now,” you said. “So. Will you take me on a date this weekend?”

He lit up, so bright that you were all but blinded by the brilliance of his joy. Then he cleared his throat and pretended to check the non-existent watch on his wrist.

“You’re in luck,” he said. “That works for me. I’ll pick you up on Saturday for dinner.”

“Great,” you said. “I look forward to it.”

“Hold on, don’t go just yet,” he said. You paused, about to ask him what else he needed when he stooped over and pressed his lips to your cheek. “Thanks for coming to my game. I’m not really sure how you knew I was playing, but I’m glad you could make it either way.”

“Um — uh — Hiori told me, he told me you were playing, and, er, where to go and what time and all,” you stammered, trying to wrap your head around what had just happened, replaying it in your mind over and over.

“Hiori? I should’ve known he’d be the type to meddle like that,” he said. “I’m not even going to ask how you know each other. The answer will probably make me feel vaguely discomfited, so I’ll abide by an ‘ignorance is bliss’ policy.”

“That’s probably for the best,” you said, composing yourself, though internally, you were imagining what it would be like if you had turned your head, if instead of your cheek his lips had landed somewhere else. “Okay, I should go now. See you on Saturday?”

“One last thing. You’re pretty transparent, you know,” he said, grasping your chin in his left hand and leaning in. Your eyelashes fluttered shut as he grew closer and closer, but right when his mouth was a hair’s breadth from yourself, he chuckled. “Also, pretty gullible.”

Instead of kissing you like you had anticipated he would, he tackled you in another hug. You squealed in protest, but he held fast, his body rumbling with laughter as you simultaneously struggled to escape and clung onto him as tightly as you could.

“I hate you,” you said when your half-hearted efforts proved to be entirely futile.

“Sure you do,” he said.

“You’re the worst,” you said.

“Absolutely,” he said.

“I’m being serious here. You smell!” you said.

“Well, that’s plain rude of you to say,” he said, messing up your hair in what you were sure he deemed to be a punishment, as if being crushed against his sweaty form wasn’t punishment enough.

“Let go of me, you idiot crow!” you said.

“No can do,” he said. “Crows are clingy birds, you know. Even the idiotic ones. Ask me again in twenty years and maybe we can revisit the issue.”

“Karasu!”

[pricetagged]

lorica

Dark November nights aren't safe, especially not for women lingering outside pubs. A taxi should get you home, and it would have if you'd remembered to double-check the license plates.

Here is 2.2k drabbly nonsense since I feel bad about my month-long lack of posting. Ghost/Reader/Price (with implied 141/Reader at the end).

Content: Dark, MDNI, kidnapping, threat of violence, guns, body neutral, f-reader, unedited.

_____________________

White whisps danced and swirled in the air before you, your breath given substance in the chill of the night.

You shuffled from foot to foot, cold air and anxiety swirling in a discomforting soup that sunk down to your bones  A glance up and down the street confirmed that yes, your taxi still hadn't arrived. You unlocked your phone once more, foolish in the hope that staring at the screen would make the car appear sooner. The little black icon on the app mocked you. Your driver is 2.6km away!

A sudden cheer split the silence, flooding from the frosted windows of The White Hart. You and your friends had agreed to leave by 8 p.m., hoping to avoid the jeering and jostling of impassioned football fans. A quiet drink after work was one thing; you hadn't, however, planned on lingering to catch up with the Premier League. The noise of rowdy punters and drunk men spilled once more into the street behind you, making your heart race a little. They were just watching a match, just in their cups…

But standing solitary as you were in the dimly lit street it reminded you that you were alone.

A single streetlight buzzed and flickered its dim companionship.

You could see your breath puffing out in front of you, white on black as the night stretched on. Perhaps you should've agreed to the lift that your friends' offered, cursing your politeness. Don't want to inconvenience you! I'm headed in the opposite direction - let me just call a cab. Dark nights weren't often kind to lone women. Winter, too. It left you shivering, trussed up in fleecy fabrics as the wind bit at your numb nose and made your eyes stream. You looked like some soft, gentle thing huddled in a doorstep, hoping to pass the night safely. You panted a little, unease quickening your breath. The misty vapor furled upwards; you imagined it carrying off your hopes. Your desperation. Please, let this car arrive. Let me get home.

A nondescript black car slowed along the curbside, wheels slick and splashing in the stagnant water gathered by the gutters. You caught the tail end of the license plates, mud splattered yes, but you could see some numbers and letters shining through. Finally. You puffed out your relief, tucking your phone away as you reached for the door. Prayer answered, it seemed.

A wave of warm air kissed your cheeks as you slid in, dry and comfortable.

'Hi, how's it going? 2350, right?' You sent a half-glance at the driver, pulling your seatbelt on as you waited for confirmation.

The gears of the belt buckle clicked in the silence. Heavy, noticeable silence.

Turning back towards the front seat, your polite smile wavered slightly. The driver was a big man. Strange that you hadn’t noticed it before, but he was hulking in the seat, shoulders stretching beyond the limits of the side panels. You swallowed slightly as you noticed the headrest barely brushing the nape of his neck.

Two unwavering, dark eyes met yours in the rear-view mirror.

'Uh…' you faltered slightly, perched like bird in the backseat eager to take off, feathers ruffling and twitching. 'This is- you're the car I called? Confirmation number 2350?'

You could feel your face heating -from the chill outside, the AC inside, the mounting embarrassment - skin feeling itchy and tight. Still, you were reluctant to break his gaze. Your instincts sparked, flared to life illuminating only the thought to keep him in your sights. You felt altogether too cramped in the car, his presence spilling across the back seats.

'Yeah, 2350,' his voice rumbled over the hum of the engine. 'Tha's right.'

He made no move, didn't even blink as he stared you down. You could just about make out the arch of blond eyebrows, the craggy lines of a well-worn face but a black barrier mask halted any further consideration. You cracked first, glancing down to his thick, gloved hand resting on the gearstick. The entire dash was dark, no blue light or luminosity from his phone. No digital dials or screens anywhere.

'Aren't you gonna type it in the app? Confirm it from your end?' You hoped he didn’t notice the shake in your voice, unease plucking at your vocal chords weaving nerves into noise.

'Waitin' on yer rideshare, aren't I?'

'I didn't book a rideshare, this is just-' You cut yourself off as your numb, clumsy fingers groped for your phone. 'Let me check, I should've just booked a solo journey-'

'No need, 's'a busy night. Friday. Match on, lots of punters.' His voice was deep, tumbling like gravel from his chest. It was disjointing, actually, with his mouth covered and the lights off. His voice seemed to echo around, filling all the dark curves and corners of the car's interior. Coming from nowhere but this beast of a man with no mouth.

You shook off the thought like waterdrops from your hair. He was just a working man. Big, yes, gruff, but no need to tar him with the sticky, resinous pitch of your paranoia.

'Yer lucky to get a ride,' he continued. 'Car pool's better than standin' out in the street by y'rself. S'not safe.'

You relaxed a little into the seat, tension trickling away. Slightly. It lingered still at the base of your spine, on the back of your neck.

'Right,' you puffed out a breath as you slid your hand from your pocket. 'Do you know how long they'll be? It's just that I've been out since work this morning and I'm looking to get home sharpish.'

He snorted at that, loud and curt, "'e'll be out when he's out. Someone waitin' for ya to get home, or wot?'

'No,' you hesitated, awkwardness cutting you short, 'sorry. Just tired.'

He hummed at that, flicking his eyes around the silent street outside. Murky, orange light cut through the condensation of the pub windows, casting a faint haze on the shutters and bars of the nearby shops. All closed for the night. All empty.

'Wot you doin' out by y'rself anyway?'

Odd. He didn't seem the type for small talk.

'I wasn't out by myself,' you cringed at how pandering it seemed. How you felt you had to justify yourself. 'Was out for drinks with some colleagues and friends.'

He huffed at that, muttering something too low for you to hear. It made you prickle, for sure that it was at your expense. Maybe you should stick in your earphones, stop talking and just treat this like the transaction that it was. You drummed your fingers against the door panel, breath fogging up the window as you stared out aimlessly.

A few beats passed like that, quiet settling uncomfortably in the car like an itchy blanket. You could feel it, wanted to shift away or throw it off or something, but a glance outside at the damp, litter-strewn street kept you still. Better just to endure the discomfort if it got you home.

The snick of the locks disengaging made you jolt, drowsiness dispersing at the sudden shock of cool air from in front.

A man, almost as tall and broad as your driver, settled into the front passenger seat. His eyes, flinty under his stern brow, mapped the length and breadth of your bundled form. His lips twitched under his mustache, amusement or disbelief carved into the burgeoning smile.

'What's this, then? Picked up a stray?'

You bristled a little, scintilla of apprehension raising the hairs on your arms. They shared a look, something warm and familiar passing between them as the idling engine hummed back to life. They sat in front, black-clad and broad shoulder to broad shoulder nearly blocking your entire view of the dash.

'It's your rideshare, in't it?' the driver grunted as he pulled away from the curb.

'Booked a cab, did you sweetheart?' the stranger turned to you, strong face in profile. You could make out fragments - high nose bridge, dark hair, mutton chops obscuring most of his face. The darkness veiled the details, like staring at a painting through gauze. He was the image, the impression of a man, yes, but distant. Unsettling.

'Clearly,' tiredness and nerves made you sharp. Brittle. You sunk further into the seat, clutching your bag on your lap. As if it could act as a barrier. A shield.

A string of tension hummed, taut and quavering. You tried to ignore, watching streetlamps blur together outside, it but it whirred high and distracting. They noticed it too, you thought, shoulders squaring up as muscles tensed and flexed. The stranger huffed through his nose, proud and steady as an ox. You swore that you heard the driver chuckle under his breath, a low hehehe as he indicated right and turned off from the M60.

'Testy one, I see,' he hummed, disapproving. 'Gonna have to fix that attitude.'

The string snapped, you snapped, 'Look, Sir, I'm not trying to be rude, but I don't fancy a chat. I'm just trying to get home.'

You fumbled in your bag for your earphones, hoping to drown out any awkward silences or terse comments.

'Alright, that's enough of that. Simon, pull over.'

You looked up, half in alarm and half at the authoritative tone of his voice. The driver, Simon apparently, swerved into the hard shoulder with a 'roger that'.

The tattoo beat of your heart drowned out your thoughts, heavy thumps rushing past your ears and thrumming down to your fingertips. You scrambled for the doorhandle, scratching clumsily like a mouse.

'What are you doing? Is this some kind of Chuckle Brothers double act because if so, it's not funny,' your words fell like fragile little shards, hoping to cut but shattering in the air. Your pitch rose, 'You want the bag, my things? I'll report you, you shouldn't be fucking working this job.'

Your phone felt heavy in your hand, shaking fingers missing the keypad as you tried to type the password.

The stranger sighed heavily, patronising. Like you were inconveniencing him in some way. You licked you lips and glanced up, ready to run your mouth again as the app loaded.

A steely glint by the central console strangled the words in your throat.

'Didn't want to have to do this sweetheart,' the stranger's lips quirked up in a sad, half-smile. You scanned his face, seeing no note of hesitation. Just cool, steady eyes and that stupid, fake smile. 'Hand that over, nice and easy.'

Neurons fired, trying to make connections or plans. Trying to assess. Here you were, alone in a car with two strange men. You shouldn't hand your phone to them, you could barely feel your fingers anymore, never mind unfurl them from the edges of the case. If you handed over your phone - your lifeline- then what?

If you didn't hand it over, you had the answer to that question from the barrel of the gun pointed your way.

You stared at it, dull silver in the dark. Like a cynosure, it pulled your gaze towards it. A sick facsimile of the North Star, leading you away from safety and further into the den of the wolves ahead.

Your animal instincts screamed, struggled, but lost as you passed your phone into his large, calloused grasp.

'Good girl,' he smiled fully then, round cheeks and bright eyes masking the coldness beneath. 'Don't get fussy now - Simon, the locks - just sit tight and you'll be home in no time.'

You tugged futilely at the handle, useless now that Simon had engaged the child-safety lock.

'I don't live down this way, I- this is not the right way,' you licked your lips again, mouth dry and bitter with the taste of rising bile. You could see, now, that you wouldn't be going home that night. Your next words tasted acrid, tinged with defeat.  'Why are you doing this?'

'Thought ya wanted to come wiv us,' Simon's gravelly voice cut in, amusement warming the pitch into something mocking. 'Why else jump into a strange car?'

'You said you were my taxi, you confirmed-'

'Did I?' you saw his eyebrow quirk, dead predator eyes meeting yours once more through the rear-view mirror. 'Not very good at lookin' after y'rself, are ya?'

Your quick little breaths fogged up the window beside you. It was hard to see, hard to think. But clearly, not thinking had brought you this far. You didn’t think to accept your friends' offer, didn’t think to properly check the license plates, didn't think open the app and check the journey status.

There must have been something of surrender in the tremble of your lips. In the flickering of your wide, glossy eyes. It scented the air, whetting the appetite of the beasts in front of you, swirling around their chops.

'S'alright, love. We'll get ya home. Get ya taken care of.'

Lacrima painted your lash line, salty and hot as it brimmed over and down your cheeks.

You heard a rustle, felt a rough thumb brushing at your tears. The stranger had reached back, large hand nudging your face back up to look at him.

'No more tears, now, c'mon,' he dug his into the corner of your mouth, tugging your lips into a coy, marionette simper. 'Smile, sweetheart. The rest of the boys are dying to meet you.'

________________________________

Bit rushed, but hey 🤷‍♀️. This has probs been done before but here's my spin. Apologies for the lack of fics lately! Feel like I'm getting my groove back so should have some actual content out soon.

[copperbadge]

Hey Sam, this came across my feed on twit and I wondered if you’d heard about it at all? :(

https://www.reddit.com/r/duolingo/comments/18sx06i/big_layoff_at_duolingo/

Direct link for the curious. Short version, a post on Reddit reported that Duolingo laid off a "large percentage" of its staff, replacing them with AI. I hadn't heard about it, but I knew there were reports about Duolingo trimming its offerings and losing a lot of goodwill after revamping itself a year ago; they've been public about their use of GPT-4 AI starting last March, and it was a tentpole of this year's annual convention, so I was aware of that as well.

The Reddit post is by a former Duolingo contractor, who also shares their severance letter, which is terse to say the least. They state that of their four-person team, two people were let go, with the others left to "babysit the AI". They say that they're a translator and that the people who remained were recast as "curators" for AI translation.

But the post is also not otherwise sourced. So here is everyone's periodic reminder that if the only source is Reddit and Reddit isn't citing other sources, you need to dig a little.

All journalistic sources I've seen (that aren't paywalled, like the Bloomberg article most of them cite) are visibly using the Reddit post as their entre, but also state that the percentage of contractors who were let go is about 10%. That's 10% of contract workers, not 10% of all staff, although admittedly I don't know how many people Duolingo employs, contract or otherwise. 10% is a meaningful chunk, but Duolingo has said that the contractors were let go because their projects had wrapped. While company reps state that this all could be related to the use of AI, they've also said that it's not a 1:1 replacement.

Mind you, the company isn't offering much in the way of backing that up, either.

So there are a couple of issues. Some workers probably were let go simply because their work was finished; the Reddit user doesn't seem to be one of those. We are still seeing that at least some of these jobs were replaced by AI, which is undoubtedly a harbinger of things to come. We don't know what impact this will have on the app. We don't know what kind of work the majority of those people were doing. There's a thread in the Reddit post about whether the voices are now "AI voices" but there's no citation to back up the idea either. They definitely aren't doing AI voice generation for the Latin, where one of the voice actors has a nice voice and also a very loud pet bird.

There is a bigger issue of contract work in the digital and translation industries in the first place; a lot of these people should have been full employees and would have had more protection from this if they had been. Translators have also been brutally devastated by machine/AI translation, which is its own issue. But these are separate and much larger problems that are in no way unique to Duolingo.

I don't like taking this stance because I feel like I'm defending both Duolingo and AI, which isn't my goal. My goal is to remind people that if you see a single source offering a vague statement, you should fact-check. 10% is likely a lot of people but it's not "a huge percentage". We have no real numbers on who was fired, just this person on Reddit saying they're a translator and they were let go. Do I believe them? Absolutely, I have no reason not to and the basic gist is backed up by statements from Duolingo. Do I trust this person's intel? Not especially, after the loud axe-grinding noises they made while posting. Do I trust Duolingo, whose goal is to make money and not look bad while doing it? Not especially either, simply from the standpoint of "the bigger the company the more they're likely to screw you".

But the point is we don't have good data, and this is a complicated and nuanced issue involving a lot of different factors. So either you have to let it go on past, or you have to be prepared to dig a little deeper than a person posting to Reddit about getting laid off.

In any case, Duolingo is one of the few activities that brings me joy right now (I know, I'm working on the issue) and is the only language learning structure that has ever actually worked for me, so despite the new intel and despite the fact that I know a lot of people think of Duolingo's revamp the way I think of Tumblr's new dash, I'm going to keep on with it.

(Plus I paid up for a year, so I might as well at least use it until the year runs out and then reassess.)

[specialagentartemis]

Citizen Science and Contributing To Scientific Endeavor When You're Not "A Scientist"

Comments on some of my posts about science and misinformation express frustration with scientific establishments, and want to see more accessibility and attention given to amateurs participating in the scientific process and having their scientific voices heard.

If being involved in the creation of knowledge and discovery is something important to you, that's something I strongly encourage! It's absolutely possible. Amateur researchers with a passion and an eye for detail have made some fantastic discoveries - but what is often glossed over in stories like these are the years of work, the patient dedication, and the collaboration with university researchers that often underlie such discoveries.

The search for truth and information and the passion for science is present in a lot of people who aren't official "scientists" - curiosity is natural! And if participation in scientific observation, hypothesizing, experimentation, and discovering new things about the world is important to you, there are lots of ways to go about contributing - and the new year is a great time to start.

What are you interested in?

Ecology

Observing the world around you is for everybody. Getting invested in the environment of your hometown is for everybody. And, as the Mythbusters famously said,

Some ideas for a local ecology project:

Record the temperature outside every day at the same time - at sunrise, or noon, or sunset, or midnight. Depending on where you are, the local weather recording station may be miles away or on top of a mountain - measure the temperature yourself and compare it each day to what your app says. When is it accurate? When isn't it?

Record the weather every day. How much precipitation? What time of day? What kind?

Record what animals you see every day, where, when, and how many. Or choose a specific animal, like birds, or bees on flowers, or turtles or frogs in a local pond, or whiptail lizards vs. invasive house geckos, and record the numbers you see each day.

Record when in the year you see the first, or last, of a plant or animal. When the crocuses sprout, when the buds appear on the maple trees, when you see the first clover flowers or prickly pear flowers, when the first robin comes out or the first lizards come out of hibernation.

If you have an outdoor cat or a free-roaming dog, attach a GoPro or similar small camera to its collar to see where it goes and what it does.

Identify the plants growing in your neighborhood, and check in on it regularly to keep track of how each one fares in different weather conditions, or if any animals particularly like or don't like to eat it.

Bulk order some test strips, then take a small sample of soil from a local park or water from a local waterway each weekend and test them for PH, lead, chemicals, or whatever. See if it changes over the year, or after a heavy rainfall, or during drought.

Take a photo of the same spot every day for a year.

Linguistics

The study of how people use language! Everybody uses language in some capacity.

Do you have any small children near you? Talk to them! Record how they pronounce things and what they call new (or even familiar) concepts. Look for patterns.

Ask people you know if "dog" and "blog" rhyme, or if "Alohop" is a good pun for a pineapple beer. My family gets ENDLESS amounts of mileage out of this one with each other. Ask people you know questions about how they pronounce things, or what they call things. Make maps of dialectical differences between generations, neighborhoods, etc. Track linguistic shifts in the modern world.

History

Everyone and everywhere has a history, and accurate history is pressingly relevant always.

See if you have a local historical society, library archive, or history museum that is looking for volunteers to transcribe or translate collections.

Get elbow-deep in local archives. You likely have some sort of local archive near you that has not been fully digitized. Go in with a topic you want to learn about - Black families, Jewish communities, how your hometown transferred from Indigenous hands to settler ones, women who owned their own businesses, immigration, inter-racial relationships, sports, ice harvesting, farming practices, contemporary opinions on a major world history event that now seems so inevitable, sports and people's reactions to sports - and read everything in newspapers, wills, deeds, photographs, or other available records about your topic of choice. See if you can find connections that you haven't seen anyone else talking about.

These are just some things that occur to me immediately as something that anyone can do, if you're sufficiently interested in a question and want to discover more about it. The more local your topic, the less likely anyone has a solid answer to whatever you're wondering - and the more immediately relevant to the people around you your discoveries may be!

Combining it with a New Year's Resolution can also get you more motivated to do the things you want to do. Is your resolution to get more exercise? Take a brisk walk each morning and take a picture of the same area every day for a year. Take a walk every weekend down to the lake and count the turtles and frogs you see. Is your resolution to keep a daily diary For Real This Time? If nothing else, resolve to write down the weather and precipitation each day! Do you want to volunteer more or meet new people? Look for citizen science or local history groups! Feeling like you're working toward something Real is a great motivator.

Henry David Thoreau's detailed descriptions of the nature each day around Walden Pond in the 1840s provides a valuable benchmark for modern ecologists to compare environmental and climatic changes since then on a granular level. Silly rhyming poems and idiosyncratic spellings in letters and diaries help linguists track dialectical and pronunciation changes across time. Amateur science is great and valuable! We all can have a part in understanding and paying deeper attention to the world around us, if we want to.

[mira-miraaa]

✧ content: 18+, sfw, relationship break, jealousy, miguel creeps on readers online profile, some angst, unedited

Ex!Miguel never thought of opening an online profile. Much less, willingly share photos of his life with others. The idea seemed too overwhelming for someone who loved to keep his life inside a steel bubble.

However, desperate times lead to desperate measures. Now, ex!Miguel, wasn’t creating a profile to share pictures. In fact, it was a guarantee he would never post anything or share his profile with others. He would remain anonymous under an cryptic username with too many numbers attached to it.

After much deliberation, ex!Miguel decided there was no harm in checking up on you. He wouldn’t direct message you or like your posts, he’d just take a quick glance at your profile. It was innocent. Harmless. He just wanted to see how you were doing.

Ex!Miguel felt his heart skip a beat when he saw your name and profile picture. My pretty girl, he thought.

Ex!Miguel carefully scrolled through your feed. You didn’t post often, but in the most recent picture you looked healthy and happy. You seemed to be out with friends, taking pictures of one another with your vibrant happy hour drink in hand. Seeing you made him smile. He wanted nothing more than to see you in person, to hug and kiss you the way he should’ve done when he had you by his side.

Ex!Miguel stopped scrolling upon laying eyes on one picture. His eyebrows furrowed at how comfortably close the guy next to you was. He didn’t enjoy seeing how the strangers hand hooked around your waist. Pulling you closer to him as your hand laid on his chest. It made Miguel sick. It was the only picture of the guy, but that was enough to sour his night.

Ex!Miguel closed the app, immediately typing your name on his contact list. With just one tap, he could’ve called you, but his courage didn’t get him that far. It was your wish to have time to think about where the relationship stood. After months of trying long distance, he couldn’t deny it put a strain on it. With you working and him traveling constantly, time zones really had the power to limit the communication. It had taken a toll on the both of you, but he didn’t want to give up. Not then, now or ever. You were everything to him, and if it meant he had to find a job that settled him down he was ready to do so. He just wished he’d done so sooner.

Instead of dialing your number, ex!Miguel scrolled through his photo album. He never deleted any of the pictures he shared with you. You looked beautiful in every single one. His all time favorite was the one when he took you out on a surprise picnic date. That day went picturesque. He could still feel the warm summer breeze and hear the distant chirping of birds. Miguel felt an overwhelming joy seeing you smiling as a bold squirrel took some of the berries. You looked happy; he certainly was.

Ex!Miguel sighed as he settled onto the bed. It felt cold and empty. He turned off his phone, it wouldn’t be a great idea to call you. It was late anyway. Maybe tomorrow he would gather the courage to press that call button.

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

continuation of this story that is still as yet untitled but has been labeled as #FreeRei in my notes app

The fact that Rei had nothing in the way of backpacks, bags, or even a purse due to her seemingly permanent residency at the hospital was both a blessing and a curse.

Navigating the ledge and tree back down to the ground with his mother in tow was a harrowing enough task without luggage complicating matters, though not quite as difficult as Dabi had assumed because apparently his mother was nimble as all hell.

"The hospital offers pilates classes." she told him as he helped her cross from the ledge to a large sturdy branch of the tree. "I go every day, I thought it would be smart to stay in good shape in case I got the chance to escape." she giggled airily. "I guess my instincts were right."

However she now had nothing to her name but the clothes on her back, meaning Dabi was going to have to steal her a bunch of new clothes and shit while trying to lay low and not draw attention to himself because he just kidnapped the number 1 hero's wife.

This is the stupidest thing you've ever done you soft piece of shit, she says a few nice words and you melt into a fucking puddle, pathetic.

Rei left the lump of pillows she had stashed under her bedcovers in place so Dabi knew they had at least until morning before she would be reported missing, enough time to drop into a 24hr corner store and grab a few essentials.

He zipped his collar up over his chin and pulled on his black cloth facemask and hood before going into the thankfully empty store, he wasn't sure if having a gently smiling older woman on his arm made him seem more or less suspicious with his face as hidden as it was. Though in the end it mattered little as long as he wasn't recognised as Dabi, Rei having last been seen with a mysterious masked figure wouldn't be very useful information to anyone trying to find her, but Rei being seen with a member of the League of Villains could cause trouble.

Especially since they had The World's Most Obvious Spy in their midst.

Keeping the bird around had seemed like a good idea at the time, they always knew where the Commission's eyes were, and could feed him information as tainted as what he gave to them, and seeing as he hadn't ratted out their location (after a few trial runs at various decrepit fake bases) his goal seemed to amount to more than simply capturing the League.

But Dabi couldn't guarantee the Commission wouldn't cut their losses on the whole infiltration thing if they found out the League was harbouring someone of such a high profile, there was every chance raising the stakes this way could jeopardise their tentative safety with their hero mole. He was going to have to keep Hawks at arm's length for a while.

"What colour?" he asked Rei as she browsed the shelves for a toothbrush, almost giddy in excitement over something as simple as shopping for toiletries.

"Colour?" Rei asked, peering at the boxes in Dabi's hand.

"White hair's too eye catching and recognisable, if you want to go out in public you'll have to hide it." He held up the two boxes. "Red or black? Forget about blonde or brown, the cheap stuff doesn't set well in our hair."

Rei tapped on the box of black dye. "This one, so we match!" she smiled.

Dabi felt a sudden flood of something warm in his chest before mentally slapping himself and putting the red dye back.

Keep it together for fuck's sake you're a god damn villain, you have literally murdered people.

He smoothly slipped a couple of chocolate bars into his pockets and some wrapped sandwiches into his coat before heading to the counter with the hair dye, a toothbrush, and a packet of cheap medical face masks.

Rei grabbed at the items. "Oh can I buy them? Please?"

Her childlike wonder and excitement pulled at something in Dabi's chest, once upon a time it was him tugging at her sleeve and asking to pay for their groceries like a grown up. He could feel heat gathering beneath his skin.

Fuck he stole so much from us.

Dabi may have risen from the grave to a life of chronic pain in a fragile immunocompromised body that was kept alive by virtue of artificial quirk induced fevers and spite, but it was a price paid for the freedom his death had granted him. Rei was not awarded that luxury, fit and healthy she may be but her life had been reduced to barely more than a small box for over a decade, Dabi didn't know how it hadn't driven her even more batshit insane than Endeavor had.

Well, she did run off with a wanted criminal, maybe them docs didn't fix her up as well as they thought they did.

"I... yeah, yeah sure." he passed her the items and the last of the money in his pocket. "I need to make a call, meet me outside alright? Don't take too long."

Shiggy was gonna fucking dust him if he showed up with a stranger out of the blue, he was going to have to call ahead with some warning.

Shit, he really hadn't thought this through, at all, the League's base was the only safe place he could possibly take Rei and it was filled with unhinged lunatics that would probably scare the poor woman to death.

Although she had been married to a complete monster for half her life, and had enough guts to escape with a villain at the first opportunity. Maybe she wasn't any more frail than she was sane.

Maybe he broke you but he broke me too, yet here I am, parading around in this shattered husk, pretending I belong anywhere but six feet under.

Dabi had worked hard to maintain his mysterious image, the man with no name or past, a ghost in the system. It was necessary, a requirement for his master plan to have any kind of satisfying impact. He'd maintained the act for this long by keeping people at arm's length, trust no one and no one can betray you.

All of that would come crashing down if his mother spent any more than five fucking minutes with Himiko Toga.

The last thing he wanted was to drag his entire lifetime's worth of baggage into the League's hideout in one condensed human sized package, but he'd already started digging this hole, there wasn't anywhere left to go but down.

He opened his phone and scrolled down to 'Crusty Bitch' in his contacts before pressing call.

"Do you have any fucking idea what time it is?" Shigaraki's groggy voice poured through the phone like sand through an hourglass, grainy and impatient.

"I need a favour." Dabi said, his voice a careful mask of apathy.

"...Holy fuck you must be in real deep shit if you're asking me for a favour." Shigaraki said, the venom in his voice leeching away in his surprise. "The fuck have you gotten yourself into?"

"Aw you almost sound worried about me, that's adorable." Dabi smirked.

"Fuck you. I'm hanging up, sort out your own mess." Shigaraki snapped, all venom returning in an instant.

"Wait shit hold on, I'm-" Dabi ran a nervous hand through his hair as he watched his mother chat idly with the cashier through the store window. "I'm bringing a... friend... to the base, they need a safe place to crash and I need everyone to not ask questions."

"...You're fucking joking right? We're not a hotel Dabi, you can't just-"

"Please."

The phone fell dead silent for an agonising moment, Dabi's head fell back as he squeezed his eyes closed in silent prayer to whatever god might listen.

"Okay, you can bring them to the base, but you're going to tell me exactly what the fuck is going on. If I don't like their story I'm dusting this friend of yours where they stand, got it?"

Dabi let out a relieved breath he hadn't realised he was holding. The threat was an empty one, or at least it would be when Shigaraki discovered that Dabi's 'friend' was just an innocent civilian woman escaping a domestic abuser. The man was deranged but even he had some sympathy for those let down and left behind by hero society, it was why he tolerated the absolute lunacy of the dysfunctional codependent family he'd managed to form around himself.

"Got it, see you in an hour, and..." Dabi paused and rubbed at his eyes, suddenly feeling very tired. "And thank you, I owe you one."

"Ugh, don't thank me, you'll give me hives."

part 3 ~

[firstprincehornyramblings]

Good afternoon everyone, I'm here and ready to go. Thank you to @tailsbeth-writes and @thighzp for the tags. I started a new Wip, because I have no restraint, but at least I'm working on most of the fic's equally, so you get a snippet from Hairstylist Henry and a peak at the new wip. Under the cut because it's long and a lil spicy

------------- Hairstylist Henry and his (least) Favorite Client

“Hazza, your strumpet is texting the salon automated messenger.” The sigh that Henry heaved was loud enough to be heard a state over. Of course, Alex was texting the salon, why wouldn’t he be? And of course, Pez had to know about it, because both of them had the booking app on their phone. “He couldn’t bother to confirm his appointment, but he can text us to tell me that a single hair is out of place?” the blond complained, taking out his phone, broom handle resting against the opposite shoulder. “That’s not why he’s texting, poppet.” The text that Henry saw when he opened the app was simple, one reply to the receipt and total, to the automated ‘thanks for visiting’ message: ‘Is this your personal phone or is it the company’s number?’ Against all better judgement, Henry inhaled deeply and typed a reply: ‘Hi Alex, this is the number for the salon’s booking service. If you would like to reach me personally you can at 212-924-7178, thanks! See you next time, have a good evening.’ “I saw that!” Percy called from the front of the salon as Henry finished sweeping up.

(no one text that number i made it up but it's probably real please thank you) -----

SNEAKPEAK AT NEW PWP WIP

“I want to fuck you,” Henry panted into that kiss. “You wanna top? I mean, I’m down, just clarifying,” the brunette pulled back with a grin, looking over his boyfriend. “Yes, but- well..” for a moment Henry seemed to fumble with articulating his own words, “I also want to bottom, but I want to top too. Can we do both?” “We can do anything you want, baby,” Alex’s hands found the blond’s waist, kneading at soft skin and gently pulling their hips together, “Actually, I mean that. I’m so proud of you, the way you stood up for yourself today. I think you deserve anything you want,” he hummed, leaning in and pressing soft kisses to the blond’s jaw, “So you’re in charge. This dick is yours; this ass is yours, and this mouth is yours. You use me however you want, sweetheart. I don’t like it, I’ll pull a red or yellow, otherwise, you call all the shots. How does that sound, your majesty?” “I think,” Henry began before reaching between them and wrapping his hand around his boyfriend’s cock, “That’s an excellent idea,” he purred, “Come on!” That was instantly followed by Henry walking toward the bed, tugging the brunette along, gently of course, but very much by his cock. Alex laughed, and waddled, but aside from a ‘hey!!’ put up no protest; perhaps because he secretly loved it.

YAY TAGS (no pressure tags darlings)

@taste-thewaste @eusuntgratie @henrysfox @mikibwrites

@softboynick @catdadacd @sheepywritesfics @henryspearl

@basil-bird @caressthosecheekbones @henfox @onthewaytosomewhere @anti-homophobia-cheese + literally anyone else I'm sleepy and forgot, or anyone who sees this and wants to tag me, I love reading yall's stuff. <3

[screwlowes]

Ok, so I know it's not my usual fair, but I just got my Hestia statue for my Altar, and I'm really really happy 😁 she actually came in, I think, a little earlier than expected, which is great 👍

For reference, this is what my Altar now looks like!

So, the statue is pretty obvious, it's definitely the only statue there so far, and it's in praise of Hestia, goddess of the Hearth. Also for Hestia is the big ass painting(made by one of my absolute best friends in the world who is unfortunately not on this app but made it for my birthday 'cause she's awesome like that!!!), and then a couple of basily, minty smells for the wax melter. I also have a more official altar for Hestia that sits on the mantle piece; it's a little mini forest candleholder thing that I made a while ago with a candle that really just reminds me of Her.

The car is for Hermes, god of Messengers and Thieves. It's mainly there because He helps me a lot when I'm driving, and it felt fitting, but there's also a sticker with the number 4 on it(his sacred number) and four flowers that seemed like his vibe. There's also a strawberry because it's one of his sacred foods, but low-key I always forget that, even though I'm constantly eating strawberries 😂 He has some wax scents, but not too many, just because there weren't that many that spoke to me for him.

Right now, all I have for Apollo is a sun sticker with seven crows(both his sacred number and his sacred bird. Fun fact about that, when I was looking for stickers to decorate the altar with, there were exactly seven crows, and I think that's pretty cool), a few scents(mainly summery fresh ones, right now I have a honeysuckle scent that just really spoke to me.), and a ring I got from my grandmother that isn't shown.

I do have a few items such as the ring holder, the smaller painting (made by the same girl who did the big one), and the heart that just seemed to fit. I don't directly pray to any deities that find those items symbolic, but it couldn't hurt to keep them handy, right?

Anyways, I have a bracelet for Hermes coming in the mail that's supposed to come soon, so maybe I'll post that, too. Have a good day!

@criophorus @queen-of-hobgobblers @deadandgaysetanta

[clovermarigold]

Shaving Cream

Sova x Reader

"Sasha we're going to be late" everything had to go according to plan, this would be your first-time meeting Sasha's family and it needed to be perfect. And it would be, you had thought out every detail.

One, buy the thickest winter clothes and thermals. The last thing you needed was your teeth chattering when you introduced yourself, it also had the added benefit of being extremely modest. You swear you would die if any of his family thought of you as some sort of harlot or sexual deviant.

Two, bring the dish you had spent a month perfecting from the depths of your family cookbook. Sasha had tried convincing you that it was perfect the first few times you made it, but you knew better. It could be improved, and it was! It had to be. What? Was his family just going to accept that their golden child was with someone who had a history of burning eggs and living off of instant noodles and frozen pizza? Absolutely not!

Three, practice Russian religiously. You had to be Duolingo's favorite with the number of hours you spent studying. Mind you it wasn't just the little bird app. You had borrowed textbook upon textbook from the local library and practically forced Sasha at gunpoint to drill you on key phrases for hours at a time. You wanted to be able to speak for yourself. Being left at the whims of a translator? Oh no. Just the idea of awkwardly standing while surrounded by possible judging family members while left in the dark left your stomach in a knot.

Four, show up ON TIME. It was self-explanatory. Make sure you don't come off unorganized or uncaring about your 'extended family'. And in general, was the respectful thing to do. Which is why for the life of you, you couldn't comprehend why your boyfriend was still not changed, wet hair, unbothered, pulling out a shaving kit.

"We have an hour, love, don't worry about it" he said not spraying a handful of shaving cream onto his fingers before rubbing them onto his chin.

"I put your clothes on the bed an hour ago, you said you were getting dressed!" you were trying your best not to raise your voice. Seeing people yell always made you uncomfortable and the inner people pleaser in you could never let you be angry at him.

But it also plagued you with thoughts of his family being upset with you for being late. Would they think you weren't good enough for him? Maybe they would just ignore you for the rest of the night. And eventually Sasha would catch on and realize he was legions out of your league and find someone better.

A hand on yours drew you away from your spiraling thoughts. You hadn't even realized you were picking your nails. "Hey, deep breaths. Everything will be fine. My family is going to love you" his fingers brushed over yours in a circular motion before he brought them to his lips, giving each one a peck.

"Pfft" anxiety subsided you were hit by the absurdity of the sight in front of you. "What?" you couldn't help it. The complete innocent obliviousness of his expression was too cute, paired with the cloud of shaving cream still sticking to his face, and now, also your fingers.

Finally catching on, his face shifted into a faux pout. "Oh, you think you're funny?" the mischievous tone in his voice made you pause. "Wait.... Sasha, no! I just finished getting ready, do not!" is smile spread from ear to ear as he scooped off a portion of the shaving cream and just barely missed smudging your right cheek.

The two of you chased each other around the room before you were caught in a standstill both waiting for the other to book it. "Sa- Alexander Novikov, you put that down and get ready this instant" you put on your best serious voice to no avail. Within seconds he launched towards you smudging shaving cream on over your face.

"вот это да" he said pleased with his handy work. "You're an ass" you wiped your eyes and mouth clean.

Sasha laughed before pushing himself away from you, "Now I'm sweaty. Come, let's shower before we leave". And if that didn't send any lingering feelings of anxiousness and worry straight out of you in favor of immediate 'thirst' you didn't know what would.

He was right, you were overthinking things. With Sasha things were simple, you just needed to remind yourself to keep it that way. Luckly when you couldn't, he would always be there to do it for you.

[ztarvokwrites]

Philip Graves - Ghosted 'til the Party

a/n: very shitty title, i know, but i couldn't really think of anything better lmfao. anywho, this is something different—something i've been wanting to write about fandom-wise for a while. i just hope it lives up the cod fanfic community's standards lol! anywho, enjoy!

synopsis: reader and philip match on tinder, but after he ghosts her on they day they were supposed to meet, she refuses to talk to him again. that is, until they meet at a friends' party.

pairing: philip graves x fem! reader

tw: none!

word count: 1,651

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

You weren’t really looking for anything serious when you mindlessly swiped through matches on Tinder. In reality, you just wanted a hookup—something to numb the empty feeling resonating in your heart, even if just for a little while. Yet, the world seemed to have other plans for you as you suddenly matched with a rather attractive man on the dating app, your phone vibrating as it came up as a Super Like—whatever that means. Your eyes lit up upon seeing the man’s face on his profile, and your heart began to skip a beat as he messaged you first with a simple: “Hey, darlin’.”

For days, you texted this man, giving him your number after two days and getting on a phone call with him. Your suspicions that he had a Southern American accent were proven right when he greeted you, the sound of his voice making your cheeks heat up. Unsurprisingly, the man was quite the charmer, complimenting your voice and your photos left and right without skipping a beat. 

Soon enough, you two agreed to meet one day at a nearby coffee shop. The day came, and you decided to dress casual for the meeting. To say you were ecstatic was an understatement—you were thrilled beyond words. Your heart was racing in your chest as you sat down at a table, texting your date that you were there waiting for him, to which he responded that he might be late due to personal reasons. Brushing it off, you sat there patiently and waited for a few minutes.

Those minutes soon turned into two hours. He was supposed to meet you at the coffee shop two hours ago, and yet he wasn’t here. It didn’t take too long for the heartache to settle in as you realised he had simply ghosted you. Slumping into your chair, you eventually ordered a coffee to go and left the establishment with a small frown on your face. As you walked to your car, you texted him.

“If you couldn’t make it, you could’ve just said so. You didn’t need to waste my time like that.”

After sending that, you hesitantly blocked him and got into your car, taking the long way home so you can keep yourself intact with some songs from your Spotify playlist. Ever since then, you stopped using Tinder altogether, deleting your profile and removing the app from your phone without hesitation.

Months fly by like a flock of birds, and your friends’ party is just around the corner. You were hesitant to go, but ultimately decided to join in on the festivities as—admittedly—you were beginning to feel quite lonely. Maybe you’d be able to find someone for a quick hook-up like you used to do. It wasn’t long until the day arrived, though, and you soon found yourself arriving at the venue for your friends’ party.

The place was packed—filled to the brim with both your friends and theirs. Once spotting your friends, you walked over and greeted them, smiling brightly and laughing as you drank your favourite beverage, the liquid running down your throat and soothing whatever nerves you had left. 

“Hey, Y/N,” One of your friends began, rather tipsy. “What happened to the Tinder date you told us about?” You looked at her, a brow raised as you cleared your throat.

“Didn’t I tell you already? He stood me up, so I left and blocked him,” Your response made her comically gasp, making your lips curl into an amused smile. “Relax! I’m used to it!”

“Well, you shouldn’t be! You’re a stunning woman! Why would any guy ghost you like that—”

“Hey, Y/N, right?” A sudden voice made you turn your head, the slight Southern drawl drawing your memories back to him. God, he was even more attractive in real life. His blue eyes looked into yours and his charming, almost apologetic smile made your heart skip a beat. Your friends awkwardly cleared their throats and left you two alone to speak. But, your mind remembered the day where you were embarrassed beyond belief—waiting in a coffee shop for hours, thinking he’d show up—and your heart swelled with pure anger. Before he got a chance to speak again, you turned away, ignoring him completely.

“Hey, look. I’m really sorry for letting you wait like that,” He began again, quickly catching up to you as you tried to walk away. You shot him a glare, but still didn’t say anything. “You were right in your text—I should’ve told you that I wasn’t able to make it,” You refused to speak, his yapping only made you angrier. “Please, just talk to me!”

“And say what, exactly?” You snapped, putting a hand on your hip. “That I forgive you for ghosting me? That I forgive you for embarrassing me? I waited hours for you, Philip! Hours! And you suddenly show up and talk to me as if nothing happened?!”

“Look, I’m sorry. Truly, I am,” Philip responded, sighing. He cautiously took a hold of your hand, his thumb rubbing against your knuckles. You surprised yourself when you didn’t pull away. “...Is there a place we can talk… Alone?”

Reluctantly, you agreed and took him by the hand to the garden outside. The two of you took a seat on a bench, in a view just below the stars that twinkle in the night. Turning to Philip, you spoke, your tone coming off more harsh now that the two of you were alone.

“So? Care to explain yourself, or are you going to smooth talk me into forgiving you?” Your tone of bitter sarcasm didn’t go unnoticed by the man, causing him to sigh and take your hands into his again.

“Y/N, I didn’t mean to ghost you that day. There’s a lot of things that you don’t know about me,” His voice held a tone of genuineness to it, the Southern drawl only emphasising that. Your brows raised slightly, a silent urge to continue as you stared at him. “...I know on my Tinder profile, it doesn’t have my occupation. That’s because I’m trying to keep women like you safe from my line of work… But now, I see that's not the right way to go about things. I should have told you this earlier, but you deserve to know. Y/N, I work in the military.” 

The man ripped it off like a bandaid, the way he said it sounded rushed and cautious, like you were going to disappear just like that. Your silence spoke for you, the surprise on your face evident by the way your eyes widened. It all made sense now—the reason why he ghosted you was because of his job.

“I’m a CEO of a military company, to be more precise. The day we were supposed to meet, my team was called into a very urgent mission,” His thumbs rubbed over your knuckles again as you listened intently, your mouth drawn into a thin line as he continued to explain everything to you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that sooner, darlin’. I just… I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me. There are people who can be after me at any given moment. I don’t want a pretty angel like you to be caught up in that.”

A moment of silence is shared between you two, broken occasionally by the sounds of crickets and owls hooting and hollering during the night. As you look into his eyes, you can feel how sorry he is about everything. Your heart seems to thaw and beat again, a small heat rushing to your cheeks as your feelings for him return in one gut punch. Eyes flickering to your connected hands, you speak again, your voice a softer tone than you originally had before.

“...Well,” You began, clearing your throat as your hands squeezed him slightly, making him smile a little. You look up in time to see the soft expression on his face, the dimples on his cheeks making you want to melt. “It definitely would’ve been nice for you to have given me at least a heads up about that,” Philip’s head nods at this, his thumbs still rubbing over your knuckles as you scoot a little bit closer to him. Another silence. Another wave of crickets cricketing and owls hooting. A sigh leaves your lips as you look at him, your own lips curling into a smile. “...I suppose I can give you another chance, since you were so open with me about your job.”

Almost immediately, his eyes lit up like the lights on a Christmas tree upon hearing your words, his smile growing bigger as he held your hands tighter. The sight alone was enough to make your heart stop momentarily.

“Really…? ‘Cause I’d be delighted to show you my favourite date spots,” He spoke again, looking deep into your eyes as you nod. “I will do anything and everything in my power to make it up to you, doll, I can promise you that. You deserve to be treated like a damn Queen—I’ll make sure of that.” His smooth words made you blush harder, your eyes boring into his oceans of blue that made you drown in them. A small chuckle left your lips at his promises, his seriousness making him look more attractive than before.

“Well, since you’re so adamant on making things right, then why don’t you start by buying me a drink? We can get to know each other better that way, don’t you think?” Your suggestion made him smile again, his head moving in a swift nod as he stood up and helped you stand.

“I’d love to, darlin’. It’d be my pleasure.” Philip spoke, walking you back inside and smooth-talking you until your face was red. Needless to say, you did way more than just have a drink that night.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

[clockwrkcabaret]

Episode 761: Originally Aired on Mad Wasp Radio, 09.22.24

WARNING! This show is for adults. We drink cocktails, have potty mouths and, at least, one of us was raised by wolves.

The Clockwork Cabaret is a production of Agony Aunt Studios. Featuring that darling DJ Duo, Lady Attercop and Emmett Davenport. Our theme music is made especially for us by Kyle O’Door.

This episode aired on Mad Wasp Radio, 09.22.24.

New episodes air on Mad Wasp Radio on Sundays @ 12pm GMT! Listen at www.madwaspradio.com or via TuneIn radio app!

Playlist:

JILL TRACY – Elegy for a Solitary Year

Hannah Fury – The Necklace of Marie Antoinette

Voltaire – Ex Lover’s Lover

Haroula Rose – Lavender Moon

Bitter Ruin – A Brand New Me

Harlequin Jones – Gutter Tango

Mike Patton – Senza Fine

16 Horsepower – Just Like Birds

Grinderman – Electric Alice

Insomniac Folklore – Piss Poor Song

Humanwine – Script Language

Birdeatsbaby – China Doll

The Scarring Party – Long Legged Daddy

Firewater – The Man on the Burning Tightrope

Rasputina – Sweet Sister Temperance

Vermillion Lies – The Astronomer

Johnny Hollow – People are Strange

Sunday Driver – Black Spider

Arroyo Deathmatch – All of Them Witches

Ghost Number – The Unknown

Tejon Street Corner Thieves – Whiskey

Days N Daze – My Darling Dopamine

Clyde And The Milltailers – Don’t Mind

the Bridge City Sinners – Break the Chain

The Vincent Black Shadow – Never Met Another Woman Like Me

The Wet Spots – We Don’t Wanna Talk About It

Twin Temple – I Know How to Hex You

Richard Cheese – Smack My Bitch Up

Check out this episode!

[spookier11]

(I was originally reblogging from this post here , but I got so off topic I feel it would be disrespectful to not just make it its own post. so i made it its own post!)

#just wrote a whole infofump about pigeons in the tags and didnt send it. be proud of me#<- no prev why would you say that#give me the infodump i beg#please??? pretty please????? (tags from @evedaser) (prev tags are mine)

OK!!!111!!! YAY! i reformatted to a normal paragraph for ease of reading ^_^ (and i may have... added some more)

I love this so much omg, I've never thought about pigeons as ace or ace icons b4.... im thinking too hard about it rn BUT pigeons have really interesting mating habits. they are like,,, the bunnies of the bird world. bc most birds lay one or two clutches of eggs a year, and that number varies depending on species. so, a bluejay only lays once a year, and they lay 2-7 eggs. so thats 2-7 new bluejays a year! robins are a bit of an outlier & lay up to five times times a year! they lay 3-5 eggs, so two robins could have TWENTY FIVE baby birds in a single year. (this is really rare, of course.) bald eagles lay once a year, and almost always lay exactly two eggs. so, two eagle babies per year. how often a bird lays and the amount of eggs correlates to a birds place on the food chain- a bald eagle, with few natural predators, only needs to lay once a year to keep up their population. because bald eagles are so BIG i'd imagine it would be super bad for them to have more than that but i dont know for certain if thats a defining reason... bluejays are much smaller so they CAN feasibly lay more than two eggs, but bluejays are also BEASTS! who can fend for themselves very well! so they only lay once a year, but they lay more than two, and that keeps the bluejay population thriving. robins have it rough, so they lay far more frequently- the robin eggs/chicks commonly get eaten by larger birds or animals and, unlike the bluejay or eagle, they aren't able to put up a fight. to make up for this, they just lay more, so some are destined to live! but PIGEONS genuinely lay year round. different places say different things, but from my understanding and experience pigeons lay eggs just a little over monthly! pigeons, like eagles, lay two eggs at a time (& can very rarely lay 3) so a healthy, captive pigeon could have TWENTY! baby pigeons in a year. twenty is waaay over the average though,, a normal city pigeon hatches 8-12 birds a year! which is still impressive!! pigeons are NOT equipped to survive in the wild, at all. they are domestic birds!! so it makes sense that they lay so often- its how the species stays alive! what i DONT understand and think is really interesting is why do they only lay 2 eggs at a time?? and actually i stopped yapping about this for a bit and tried rlly hard to find an answer,,, and sadly the best one i found was 'lots of variables go into what sized clutch a bird lays,' which like I KNOW.... but N E WAYS! basically pigeons have the unique laying habit of laying two birds at a time, year round, rather than having a large clutch all at once or only laying once per year!! they PROBABLY only lay two eggs at a time 4 the same reason eagles do - they physically cant lay more than that at a time and keep in good health - but don't quote me on that guys i dont know thats just my hypothesis im just some guy. of course, like robins, lots of pigeon babies (squabs) dont make it. however,, they are are way more likely to die from malnutrition or parental neglect then being a snack for a bigger bird. i just think pigeons are neat! and its cool how they nest year round!! wow i really got off topic! oops!! asexual pigeons real actually,,,,

i just think birds are so cool u guys i cant not talk about them!! also i spent way too long writing this out to really just keep it in my notes app somewhere...

[siphersaysstuff]

LOCKTOBER!

It's "Locktober", a month entirely about Dinobot leader GRIMLOCK! I mean, what else could it be? So let's close in on some of the plastic toys of the Autobot warrior who simply won't be restrained in this month's batch of Patron-backed @tfwiki pictures!

Sadly, I don't have wiki-worthy samples of the first Grimlock toy, G1 or G2 (also I'd want all 3 G2 decos represented). But here's the Action Master, the fourth release of the character in the original toyline. He came with an "Anti-tank cannon" partner/drone (bonus pic!).

Robots in Disguise 2001 Grimlock, named to secure the Trademark, is one of the most awkward Transformers toys ever made. Them arms, man. This yellow deco was a Hasbro exclusive, released in a post-RID 4-pack of the entire Build Team on Black Friday 2003. Thank you for preserving the name.

The only Unicron Trilogy Grimlock wasn't even originally supposed to be in that series! The Energon Grimlock & Swoop toys (who can combine into Mega-Dinobot) were originally meant to be in the concurrently-running Universe line, but got shifted to the combination-centric Energon.

Grimlock was a natural choice to be in the very limited 2006 Classics line, though him being a Deluxe baffled many. Still, for my money this is a great redesign. I can just see him biting down on a Decepticon, pinning him to the floor, and transforming to stand directly on top of him.

Grimlock made a splash in Animated, though his role and number of toys ended up being pretty limited overall. Still, aside from the big Voyager toy, there's the smaller Activator version, with a partially-spring-loaded conversion activated by pressing the gold button on his dino-butt.

Shattered Glass Grimlock started as a brainless beast. But the pre-convention "prank" comic pages by @therobotmonster and myself portrayed him as highly intelligent and verbose, inspired by the Brain Gremlin from "Gremlins 2". Which went over so well that's how he ended up in later SG stories!

Weirdly, it took some time for Grimlock to show up in the Kre-O building-brick line. The first were Age of Extinction sets, including one with an inexplicable G1-based build and Kreon in the "Grimlock Unleashed" set! G1 Grim also showed up in the "Kreon Class of '85" San Diego Comic Con 2015 exclusive set.

Speaking of Age of Extinction Grimlock, one of the oddest toys of this version of the character is this Walmart-exclusive redeco of the ten-year-old Energon Cruellock mold! The "energon star" accessory has been glued into place to hide that the toy lacks its "spark crystal".

And speaking of weird Grimlocks, Angry Birds Transformers! The app's still going, what the hell? It briefly had actual toys, which included this Jenga-branded "Optimus Prime Attack Game" set with a Grimlock Bird Jenga frame! And yes, this thing is in the mobile game. In both, the goal is to knock out as many tummy bricks and pigs as possible.

The large "Hyper Change Heroes" 3-Step version of Robots In Disguise 2015 Grimlock is possibly the perfect-scale dino-mode toy compared to his teammates' Warrior-class toys (def a bit too big in robot mode)… but ooh, does he take a big hit in robot-mode posability and accuracy from the waist down.

Cyberverse "Spark Armor" Grimlock came with a "Trash Crash" dump truck that forms incredibly bulky armor for him. Interchangeability of the Spark Armors has not been extensively tested to the best of my (admittedly limited) knowledge on the subject.

Of course, G1 Grimmers gets loads of merch. He's currently the only TF to have two wholly-different molds in Super7's ReAction retro action figure line, with both robot and dino mode figs. This G2-colored (but not G2-symbol'd, boo) figure was one of many, many Target exclusive ReAction figs.

Let's end on the "ultimate" G1 Grimlock (well, non-Masterpiece version, though one can argue which of those two is truly "ultimate"), Studio Series! He came with a semi-posable Wheelie figure, so when his price point was inevitably budget-cut, the "partner" fig could be dropped, a sacrifice so the later Dinobots could still afford AN accessory.

If you enjoy these stomps through Transformers toy history, you can help out by joining my Patreon at "gregstfwikipics". Every little bit helps get more pics out a month, plus at higher pledge tiers you can even pick a theme!