#we're calling it Pipe Dream for some reason

[unsoundedcomic]

Whumptober 2024 - 15 - "Childhood Trauma"

Will Argenti leaned in close, to be heard above the chatter of the busy tea house. "Do you ever dream about it?"

He sounded sad, uncertain. Mikaila wasn't so very much in the correct temper for sad uncertainty. "Look," she answered instead, grinning and pointing through the crowd. Her friend Genevieve was trying to balance four little plates of green tart, two in each hand. "Genny!" Mikaila called, "Genny, you're listing starboard! Ah! There you are, perfect! Upright! Upright! Impeccable! You're almost here-! Will, no!"

Will had moved to vacate his seat and help her, but Mikaila held him fast by the arm. "There is Mr Farold," she whispered, gesturing to a red-faced Soud scolding two Soud waitresses near the dessert case, "We need him to see her excellent balance and coolness under pressure. Genevieve is questing for employment here in the spring, while her Tomas ventures to Grettaerin on an errand for the family. Her father said she can wait for him if she brings in some coin while he is gone. Is that not the most romantic thing?"

"I don't want Genevieve serving here," Will groused, "She hates me and she'll skimp on pours."

"Genny is a perfect doll," Mikaila protested, "If she doesn't like you there is some good reason for it."

"I might have called Tomas a cocksucker once."

Mikaila's hand flew to her lips but the laugh was too fast for her, and spilled out everywhere. Will would never use such language with the other girls. But those were other girls. "What did Tomas do to you?" she asked merrily. Will shrugged a shoulder and started emptying his pipe into a drained tea glass.

"He was spelling his boots clean and I didn't like the way he asked me why mine were so muddied. He knew why. Cocksucker."

Mikaila exhaled through her teeth, one eye still on Genevieve's cake walk. "Is it growing worse, old bean?"

"I don't like pymary, is all," Will answered without answering, "I don't like it. You can tutor me until the silver's gone out my hair and into yours, but I'll never like it."

Mikaila didn't doubt it. She'd learned it was her good friend's heart and her good friend's memories that were in the way of her good friend's spellcraft. There was otherwise no reason why a young Silver gentleman with William Argenti's prospects had such difficulties conversing with the khert. "You think about it too much," she diagnosed, quieter, "I see it come upon you, when you cast. You tremble like the last… like the last bead of water, hanging to the kettle spout. You're so afraid of… what? Falling? Failing?"

Some guttural grunt hunched in Will's throat. He looked away. "I'm not bloody afraid. I just don't like it."

Wisely, Mikaila did not press the point. Genevieve had been stopped by Mr Farold. Some earnest conversation was happening there, but still the tart plates wobbled. How might Mikaila salvage them if they started to tip? So delicate, the motions so erratic. Her palms burned as she thoughtfully licked her lips and considered Momentum reversals. Oh, Ssael, would it be worse if Genny lost a plate or two or if four tarts catapulted up splat! against the ceiling?

Will watched her intently. Then, again, he asked: "Do you dream about it?"

"Hmm?" She jiggled her head a little as though dislodging a fly. "Sometimes. Less and less. But then I wake up, and it is today. The sun is high, there are new things to learn, and everyone I love is here and safe."

"Not everyone."

Mikaila's attention did not stray from Genevieve and her four plates.

"You remember him better than I do, Will. Don't think me wicked, but I'm happy to forget. Papa says memories are heavy, but we're the only ones stopping ourselves from setting them down."

"That doesn't make sense." Anger darkened Will's eyes to the colour of a storm's belly, and he scowled down at his weed pouch. Half his pinch was spilled to the tabletop. He gathered it up, tried to mash the moist strands together, but his hard wooden fingers were not well suited to the delicate work.

"How does it not make sense?" Mikaila asked gently.

"I was even younger than you when that monster- that monster ate my arm. But I haven't forgotten any of it. The stink of its mouth. The two-toes' eyes shining in the dark. And knowing that Roger Foi-Hellick was laughing about all of it; near but not near enough to kill him, hiding, laughing." The fingers of his simulacrum fumbled the pinch again. Mikaila touched his false wrist in a wordless gesture. He paused, and she gathered the fragrant strands herself.

"I think what happened to you was far worse," she whispered, pushing the wad into the pipe bowl, "And perhaps you haven't had… all I had. Perhaps it's worse for you now, even still."

"Don't say that. I don't want to hear that dogshit. Forget it, I'm fine. Everything in Durlyne is fine. And I don't dream about anything."

She put the pipe in his hand, closed his clicky false fingers over the stem, and pointedly did not light it with a spell. Will reached instead to his belt for a firestarter. Drag, scratch, flick! and then flame. It was a good smell. The weed caught, smouldered, and that smell was even better. Happier to associate it with Will than with a dead man. A dead man, impossibly tall, hunched over a desk in a messy library, puffing fragrant clouds, singing an old aria to himself while he scratched line after line in a book she was not allowed to read…

"My sincerest and humblest apologies for the wait, madame!" called Genevieve suddenly. Without a sound, a plate of green tart was settled atop the table - very professional! - then slid towards Mikaila, who clapped with showy gusto and appreciation.

And maybe a little pymary. She touched the base of her throat.

"I'VE NEVER EXPERIENCED SUCH EXQUISITE SERVICE!" boomed her voice over the heads of the tea house's clientele. Each one swivelled to face her. "I SHALL BE TELLING ALL OF MY FAMILY AND FRIENDS OF THIS FINE DINING EXPERIENCE."

Genevieve coloured prettily and Mikaila knew without asking that she'd been offered a job. "Thank you, madame! Honourable patron! Respected customer! And this man, is this your servant? Here you are, Silver Boy, some tart for you."

She set the tiniest of the slices in front of Will. A very long and curly blonde hair was draped across it, and the crust was broken. He sighed.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Hey is anyone up for more suffering? Because I noticed something that is... probably very obvious and I'm sure many of you have already noticed, but I, a first time manga reader, am kind of freaking out.

[ID: A set of two panels from Trigun Maximum Volume 8. A young Wolfwood sits next to baby Maylene, who is sleeping. He looks up at the sky. The next panel shows the distant silhouette of a bird. End ID.]

Birds are now associated with Wolfwood - he's carved them ever since he was a kid, and the entire theme of this chapter revolves around his musings of the price one pays of having the freedom of a bird - that is, that the bird struggles just to survive; that freedom has a cost. I have some thoughts on this, and Wolfwood's relation to it all - I daresay he's not the bird himself, and is caught in some mid-way hell where he receives the worst of both worlds: the struggle to survive while also denied his own freedom - like a bird with clipped wings. He looks up at it as a kid and starts to make his carvings, where I think the implication is, at some point, he used to look up and feel envy himself, before he became too jaded to see it as anything other than a pipe dream or a childish naivete. I could just keep rambling about the symbolism here but I want to get to the point.

Birds -> associated with Wolfwood. We agree?

This is also the volume where Wolfwood, in the present time, decides to act on his own will and free Vash, where Vash decides that "someone like him is all the reason I need to keep fighting". In the very next volume, Wolfwood will similarly find conviction in Vash. So basically, Vash helped this man, and it was enough to get him back on his feet - "if I could save just one person...". Wolfwood thought the world to be hopeless but just barely dares to believe in something brighter because Vash is still fighting; a spark of hope in the dark.

We're clear?

Great. Now go listen to the bridge of Tombi.

Hey, hear that bird call at the end? That stereotypical "bird of prey call"? Like... like the bird of prey in this chapter?

Hey. Look at the translated lyrics here if you don't know Japanese.

"If I could do one thing now

Until this life burns out

For someone in the dark

I want to be a small light"

This. This has to be intentional, right?

[mosneakers]

The spirit of Agnes and Coraleye enter the elegant Sunset Valley estate. Vintage melodies from a record player swirl, enveloping Coraleye in a sense of nostalgia that she had only known from classic romance films up until this moment.

Agnes: Welcome home, darling. 230 Redwood Parkway, fondly known as "August Moon" by some.

Coraleye: Wow, that's such a magical name. This home is breathtaking, Grandma!

Agnes: It's always been my envisioned haven for raising children. Coraleye: And you owned it? Even while you lived in Moonlight Falls? Who took care of it when you weren't here?

Agnes: My sister, Cornelia, tended to her in my absence. This home held a special place in my heart, and she, understanding its significance, made occasional upgrades, just in case we ever decided to sell. Or, perhaps... return.

Coraleye: Return? As in move back? Agnes: Come, dear. Looks like dinner is finished, and now we're clearing up. I want you to hear this conversation.

As they step into the kitchen, tension hangs thick in the air. Erik diligently washes the dishes while Agnes busies herself preparing ingredients for tomorrow's meals. Neither utter a word, until Agnes finally breaks the silence.

Agnes: Erik, I... I must apologize for snapping at you during dinner. That was quite unwarranted. You were right—I ought to have shared the news with you about the fire. I know the Seymour house was so dear to your heart. It was for me, too. I hope you're not angry with me.

Erik: Ain't mad at ya, Aggy. Gee, I suppose I overreacted too. It's not just about the house; I can live without that. My decent paying job in Moonlight Falls, no chance nobody here'll pay the same. Cost of living's a lot higher, and...well, I've been hoping you'd eventually come 'round to having another baby with me, honey...

Coraleye: [eyes misting] Grandpa really wanted another baby, didn't he? Agnes: [Smiles fondly] Oh yes. But I was quite stubborn. Coraleye: I think Janie mentioned a bit about the fire being the reason for you moving back here. Did you figure out how it happened? Agnes: No, we never did. But the Crumplebottom Sisters informed me that it destroyed everything. Even their great powers couldn't reverse the damage. I had planned to tell Erik, but Belinda beat me to it with a telephone call.

Agnes: [Continuing with Erik] You know I've always said that I'm content with our two. Erik: I know baby, I've just had my fingers crossed one day you'd change your mind. Just a pipe dream, that's all. Agnes: [Sighs] Well, darling... We'll need to sort through our finances. It seems you might just be getting your way, after all...

Erik: What are you telling me, woman? Agnes: It's still early yet to, but... I find myself a tad late.

Erik: Late for tea and crumpets with the ladies at the country club, or are we talking more along the lines of a bun in the oven? Agnes: It could be. Again, it's still very early. Just three days.

Erik joyfully sweeps Agnes into his arms, twirling her as they share a tender kiss. A soft giggle escapes Agnes's lips.

Erik: Aggy baby, you make me the luckiest man to ever live or die!

Coraleye's heart swells with emotion as she witnesses her great-grandfather express his unconditional love for Agnes with such passion and honesty. They follow the Darling pair into the living area to join the girls, particularly Gwendolyn, who are engrossed in the television.

Coraleye: Gosh, look at how you two lovebirds are gazing at each other. TV not holding your attention much, is it? [Grins]

Agnes: Well, I've always preferred books. [Smiles] The television often broadcasted troubling news, especially that year when the government confirmed the existence of aliens. I made the children turn it off promptly if I heard any talk of extraterrestrials.

Coraleye quickly averts eye contact, wondering how much Agnes knows about the current state of the world, particularly Sunglo, his abduction, and how those events resulted in the birth of his beloved daughter.

Knowing her great-grandmother's well-documented phobia centered around extraterrestrials, Coraleye opts to change the subject for the time being.

Coraleye: Hey, Grandma? How did you and Grandpa know to bring the family photos along on your trip to Sunset Valley? Most people don't bring all their family photos on vacations.

Agnes: [Grins] My, I did say you were observant, didn't I? Coraleye: Well, astute. But yes. I hope to land a career in journalism, just like Grandpa! Agnes: [Nods approvingly] A journalist in the making, just like your Grandpa. No, the decision to take the photos along was merely a coincidence. Like you heard your Grandfather say, I make him "the luckiest man to ever live or die!"

[the-witchs-cafe]

Directory | BYF | Witch Essays

Hello, hello! And welcome to the Witch's Cafe! Have you gotten weary? The crushing loneliness of your own self-torment became way too much? Fret not- this establishment is here for all witches; those who have fallen from the greatest of heights, to those who have been left with nothing at all.

Here in this little coffee bar settling between the cosmos, our customers have traveled far and wide just to socialize and find solace within their shared agonies- some managing to cross through universes; so be on the lookout for those whose faces you might have the luck to recognize!

We also herald our existence with this flag- oh, don't you worry! This flag is free for anyone to use, even if all our operations were to cease!

With all that being said, I'm certain you would like to know the way through these halls;

#Witching Hours: The customer list! Go right ahead and greet yourself to these fine folks! Maybe you'll find more similarities between yourselves than you would intially assume. (Gen. tag for crossover witches made by other people)

#Registered Witches: What cafe would this be if we didn't have any regulars? Recognized their choices of beverages just like the back of my hands! If you wish for a story, they're your go-to's! (Witch essays written by either mod H.N Elly or mod Charlotte)

#Witch cards: Every now and then, familiar faces start popping up more than usual; not as much as our regulars, but it is fun to observe their activities, even if from a distance. (same as the above, but in the form of much smaller witch cards)

#Would Witch Out: Passerby's and their rumors...honestly, you couldn't blame a gal for eavesdropping every now and then, no? Not even while getting the latest scoop on who was the poor soul whose destiny caught up with them? (due to the shutdown of YFWWO and in order to give its mod a break, I've opened up operations here.)

#Would Survive PMMM: Of course, some folks do happen to be naturally lucky; finding a way and reason to keep going forwards even in the darkest of nights...it's admirable, maybe a little enviable, don't ya think? (The complete opposite of the above; if you know a character who would cakewalk through this universe's trials and tribulations, let us know with the full details regarding why!)

#Would They Witch Out?: (Submissions are now CLOSED!)

#There Is a Pipe Bomb in your Mailbox: Those lil' misfits out there and what tricks they got on their sleeves- ah, what fun would it be if I didn't allow any tomfoolery every now and then? (The joke submissions tag)

#There is no Secret Menu!: (The shitpost tag; hey, the great Italian poet, Dante Alighieri, had called his little self-insert fanfic in which he and Virgil went through all sects of the afterlife "The Divine Comedy" for a reason, right? We all need a reason to crack up since we're gonna be in our self-inflicted torment and punishments for some time.)

#You're now listening to . . .: Solace can be nice every once in a while, but a nice tune to distract yourself from the pain and get in the mood to continue working on your eternal goals is just as comforting! (general audio tag)

I do also have to warn ya'll that we also have to abide by the blacklist; yeah, we do try to cater to all that enter these doors, but an eldritch horror needs to have some standards, ya know?

Hetalia

Country Humans/Country Balls

Any of the media created by Okegom/DeepSeaPrisoner

Minecraft SMPs, especially Dream SMP

Building upon the above, we do not take requests for real world figures, unless if they were obvious jokes. This includes, and is not limited to, youtubers, musicians, pop idols, and individual game developers.

Percy Jackson

Harry Potter

Palworld

Genshin Impact (x)

UrbanSpook // The Painter

Good Omens, and other works by Neil Gaiman (x)

Omori (x)

[reluctanttrabbit]

its secret santa time!! woo!! @hearts4ggy BOO CAROUSEL JUMPSCARE 💥💥💥💥

originally i planned to make a fic AND draw a scene from the fic. but my dreams slowly crumbled as i realized i would have so much homework this month AND i also really just wanted to get this fic out before christmas bc i know many people are with family at this time

so heres the fic instead!! maybe i can finish up the art part of the gift this week.. :3

the full fic is also below the cut incase u wanna read it this way ^_^

Carol of the Bells

3,347 words

3:56. 3:57. 3:58.

Every time Michael glanced at the clock, it stared right back. Almost like it's taunting me, he thought.

Out of all of the days in the year, why did William Afton have to work on Christmas Eve and leave Michael to look after his siblings?

To be fair, it was a lose-lose situation either way. He could either spend the day stuck with his stupid siblings, or ditto but with his stupid father.

So here he was, baking cookies with Elizabeth and Evan in the afternoon.

"I.. I think we used too much sugar," a small voice piped up. It was Evan, who had just grabbed the egg carton out of the fridge and peered into the bowl the siblings were using. Sure enough, sugar was littered all over the kitchen counter. Evan guessed that was Elizabeth's handiwork.

"Good! Maybe you'll get some cavities from it, and you'll talk even less, then," Elizabeth jeered at her brother.

"Liz, these cookies are for all of us. if anything, you're getting cavities too." Michael sighed as he pushed her aside to swipe the eggs out of Evan's hands. she let out a small yelp of annoyance, which Michael had ignored. He turned to his phone propped up on the counter with the recipe on his screen.

"Ok, eggs and vanilla extract." he said aloud to himself. Michael looked to the counter, but the vanilla extract was nowhere in sight. What? That couldn't be right.

"We got vanilla extract, right? who has it?" Michael instantly turned to Evan, who jumped a little and showed Michael his hands. Empty.

Next, he turned to Liz, getting more agitated at the second. Once he looked in her direction, he noticed three red cups set on the counter, as Elizabeth wore a suspicious smile and eyed the cups. Michael simply wasn't having it, and knocked all 3 cups off the counter as if he were a cat. He deadpanned towards Elizabeth as she watched the vanilla extract fall out of the middle cup and onto the floor.

"Hey! What's your problem today?!" she cried, as Michael went to pick up the extract.

"My problem," he growled, "is that I'm stuck with you two today, because our father can't even manage to take the day off of work for CHRISTMAS EVE."

"Well, maybe he's getting some last minute gifts.. or something!" she said, trying to excuse her father.

"Bullshit, theres nothing open today! It's a holiday, he shouldn't even be at work in the first place!"

"Don't swear at me!"

"I'll do whatever I want! Dad isn't here, I'm in charge."

"Y'know, i bet you the reason you don't wanna spend Christmas Eve with us is because you'd rathe-"

The house phone started ringing, and the two stopped fighting. Michael sent a cold glare to Elizabeth, as if he was telling her this wasn't over, and he walked over to pick up.

"Hey, is mike here?" a voice rang through the speaker. it was Charlie!

"Uh- yeah, what happened?"

"What do you mean what happened, its Christmas Eve! we're coming over for a bit, so we can keep you guys company.. since your dad isn't here, y'know." there was a slight laugh in her voice, but it settled once she mentioned that William wasn't home. Right, how could Michael ever forget.

"Oh, well.. sweet. See you guys in a bit, I guess. bye." Michael put the phone down. He hoped Charlie couldn't tell that there was still hints of anger in his voice, despite their call being so short. He let out a sigh, which somewhat turned into a growl, and turned around to look back at his siblings. Evan had started to pick the extract up and clean it with some paper towels. Good. At least he was managing to be helpful.

hearing the news that Charlie and Henry (and hopefully Sammy) were coming over eased Michael's thoughts. maybe Henry could be the one to deal with his siblings, and Michael could get a break from these brats. Evan offered the extract to Mike, and he picked it up, turning his phone back on and reading over the recipe once again. Liz had left to go sit on the couch and cool off from her and Mike's previous squabbling. Hey, I'm not complaining, Mike thought to himself.

"Cass, you wanna grab the mixer for me?" he asked. Evan nodded, and went to search the cupboards until he pulled the machine out, with the cord dangling and nearly tripping him.

Evan hauled the machine up onto the counter. He brushed his hands off on his pants, and stood idly waiting for Michael to do the next step. He fidgeted with his sweater sleeves, and peeked around the corner of the fridge to look at Elizabeth. she had a pillow in her hand as she hit it repeatedly against the floor.

Evan had a hunch that pillow was supposed to be michael.

He turned back to face Michael. the boy jumped as the mixer started and the ingredients splashed onto his face. He grumbled, but held the bowl steady and let the mixer do its job.

Evan took advantage of the loud whirring from the mixer, and snuck off into the living room to stay with Elizabeth. Her eyes narrowed as he walked into the room, and put the pillow down.

The mixer slowed down and Michael went to wash his hands. He looked around for evan, only to find that the boy wasn't there.

"Hey, I still need help here!" he shouted.

"…"

"Fine."

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

Michael cringed with each bite he took of the cookie. Something had definitely went wrong once he was left alone to bake. Was it too sweet? Or too bitter? Were the ingredients expired?

"Ok, these… these cookies taste like shit." Michael put the cookie (could it even be called that?) back down on his plate and took a sip of water. he heard Elizabeth and Evan laugh, as they had already rejected their cookies.

"When will Charlie and Henry get here?" Evan asked, blankly staring out into the window. There were slight flurries outside- the thought of a white Christmas made Michael subconsciously smile. It had reminded him of better days - days where all he would do in school was make crafts and bring them home to his mom and dad. He remember the way his mother's nose would crinkle as she smiled and put the poor excuse for an ornament up on their Christmas tree.

"…"

"I'm gonna go get my sketchbook. Just… do whatever." Mike nearly bolted up as he dodged the question and tossed the tv remote to Elizabeth, heading for the stairs. She turned on the tv and started to flip through channels. There was nothing that interested the two. News channels, baby channels, reruns of old movies, the shopping channel; and a few kids channels, but none of them were playing anything good. Elizabeth decided on one that was about these weird CGI Christmas dogs.. it wasn't like she would actually pay attention to it.

"All of these shows suck!" she huffed in frustration. "Why aren't they playing, like, My Little Pony or something?" she went to lay back on the floor and stare up at the ceiling.

Evan had wanted to answer, because its Christmas and the only thing that's on right now are Christmas movies. But he was too lost in his own thoughts to interject. He remembered the look in Michael's eyes as he went up to grab his sketchbook. The teen looked like he was on the verge of tears. Evan felt as if he had seen a cryptid.

"Liz, um.. do you ever think about why Mike gets angry at us?" he turned to his sister.

"..Well, I don't think about it on a daily basis, but I know the answer. You should too." she sighed, crossing her arms.

"I mean, obviously I know why, but… why does he get angry? We only fight with him because he fights with us. Why does he get to be the angry one? Why does he see us as brats and then get to act like that?"

Elizabeth stayed silent. They both did for a minute.

"Maybe he never moved on. I don't know." she sighed, now giving more thought to the conversation. "I don't remember much of her. Maybe the problem is that he remembers too much."

Maybe the problem is that he remembers too much. The words repeated in Evan's mind. what did that even mean? It got louder and louder, and-

"Charlie!" Elizabeth cried as she shot up to run towards the window. She was careful to not scratch herself on the Christmas tree right beside the window, and peered through the snow, which had begun to fall faster than a few minutes ago. The headlights of Henry's car disoriented Liz, but she tried her best to get a good look.

Evan stared at the ground for a few more seconds, before getting up and opening the door for them. Henry and Charlie stepped out of the car, gift bags in each of their hands. Elizabeth nearly pushed Evan out of the way as they came in the door.

"Merry Christmas, you two!" Henry said, imitating the voice of Santa Claus. He definitely has the beard for the role, Evan thought.

Elizabeth jumped into Charlie arms, giving her a hug.

"Hey Liz!" the teen said, ruffling her hair. "Guess who these are for?" she said as she held up the bags in her arms. Elizabeth gasped and reached for them, but Charlie swiped them away.

"Hey, not until tomorrow." she laughed. Her and Henry walked towards the tree to put their gifts down and take off their coats. Henry paused as Charlie set down her bags.

"You kids only got 5 presents?" Henry asked, concerned. "Now I don't want to shame your dad, but I know he has more than enough money for you guys. There's no way he's putting all that into the mall..." the man trailed off as he answered his own question.

"Well, good thing we delivered, huh?" Charlie said, trying to keep the mood up. "C'mon Liz, let's go find a Christmas movie to watch." the 2 girls walked to the couch as Charlie flipped through their DVD collection.

Henry and Evan sat in silence as Henry looked around and rubbed his hands.

"So, where's your brother?" Henry asked, looking around the house.

"He ran upstairs." Evan answered, looking up at them as if Michael would appear there in seconds. But Evan knew better. He was probably locking himself in his room for the rest of the night. He turned back to look at Henry, but couldn't quite read his expression as the man grumbled something to himself.

"..Well, I see you made cookies! Mind if I take a bite?" Henry grinned as he walked over to the plate on the kitchen counter. He had moved too fast, as Evan was just about to respond until Henry took a bite out of the poorly iced mess. His face went sour, and Evan couldn't help but snicker.

"We- we didn't do the best, I'm sure you can tell." Evan said as he watched Henry put the cookie back down on its plate.

"No worries, kid. I guess it's Santa's problem, not ours." Henry sighed and walked off into the living room. But Evan stayed put as his gaze wandered to the stairs.

He wasn't actually going to stay upstairs, was he?

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

Evan walked down the hall, peering in each room. Every step he took made the floorboards creak, making Evan walk lighter than usually. He passed by his room, and the door was closed. He looked at all the drawings scattered on his door, some drawn by Michael and some drawn by himself.

Elizabeth's door was decorated with stickers and one of those "no boys allowed" signs -- a gift that she put up as a joke. Evan continued walking. The bathroom doors were both open, and Michael's door was locked shut. his door held no drawings, or no stickers. Just a door handle and peeling paint. Evan held his ear close to the door, but couldn't hear any signs of Michael. He was most likely in there, but Evan had to be sure.

..That left only 2 rooms to check.

If Evan wasn't stepping lightly before, he was definitely floating by now. Even just standing by the door of William's office was enough to make him remind himself to breathe. The door stood tall and foreboding, somewhat like his dad. The light was off, so Michael couldn't be in there. Evan turned to the room at the end of the hall.

William's room.

Of course, it had never been just William's room. It used to belong to their mother too, once upon a time. Or more like a few years ago. but it seemed like Evan's instincts were right, as the lamp on the bedside drawer was on. Michael was right beside that drawer leaning against the bed and burying his head in his arms. There was a book by his feet, sitting upside down with pictures falling out of it.

Something told Evan that the book wasn't Michael's sketchbook.

Evan walked closer to Michael, and the boy lifted his head up.

"Screw off Cass, get out." his throat was raspy; Michael sounded like he was tired. His voice was the quietest it had been in years.

Evan stayed silent. He moved closer.

"..Are you deaf, I said--"

"I heard you, and I'm not going to let you yell at me anymore!" Evan's voice wavered as he spoke.

"Oh, what, did you--"

"All day you've been rude to me AND Elizabeth, and you're always just rude in general! Why do you get to just- why do you not realize that when mom died, it.. it hurt us too. But you don't get that, because you're mad at our father, and.."

Evan felt tears welling up already. Why was he such a crybaby?

Evan and Michael both fell silent as the two thought of what to say.

"..You really suck at yelling." Michael grumbled as he picked the book up. Evan wiped his tears and tried to compose himself so he could continue his rant, but he finally noticed what the book was.

It was a photo album.

Evan took a breath as he moved closer to sit beside Michael.

"In a way, you aren't wrong. I am mad at our father. Because he doesn't give a shit about us or about mom's death-"

"Liar! Dad talks about her all the time! You wouldn't know that because you barely try to talk to him."

Michael ignored him as he flipped through the pages. Their parents didn't take many pictures of themselves, but there were lots of family photos. A picture of Michael on a high chair as he eats baby food. His hair sticks out in every direction. Carol is cleaning his face, smiling for the camera as she tries her best not to laugh. A beach day photo where she's putting sunscreen on a younger Elizabeth as Michael and Evan splash around in the water. Michael and Carol at a school dance.

Slowly but surely, Michael and Evan's mom started to appear less and less, until the last picture was of William and Henry at the opening of the Pizzaplex.

"It's like she's.. slowly disappearing. From the book, from us-- And somewhere deep down, I WANT her to. So I don't have to think about her everyday. So the pain is easier." Michael sobbed. Evan's eyes widened as Michael was crying real, live tears. Was this a prank?

"I can't remember anything else from our childhood except her."

As awkward as it was, Evan shifted closer to rest his head on Michael's shoulder. Michael didn't push him off. He didn't yell at him. It just happened. And that was enough.

They sat in silence for a good while.

"..It feels weird to see you cry. It's like our personalities were swapped or something. Like 'Freaky Friday'." Evan muttered in a soft voice. Michael sniffed and wiped his eyes as he let out a genuine snicker. It wasn't in a mocking or sarcastic tone, for the first time in a while. Evan still wasn't used to this.

"Maybe it should happen more. For the both of us. I can... cry more, and you can stand up to me more." Michael admitted. He sighed and rested his head on Evan's, like they were 2 brothers who actually liked each other.

Someday, maybe that could happen.

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

The rest of the night flew by. Evan and Michael finally went back downstairs to join everyone else and have a movie marathon, along with some TV dinner. They talked, and danced, but eventually Henry and Charlie had to drive back home. Henry allowed them to open at least one Christmas present before they left, and Elizabeth made sure to pick a big enough gift. Because of course, Henry wouldn't allow her to pick the box that DEFINITELY wasn't a new toy playset.

Michael got a set of watercolors, Evan got a set of pajamas, and Elizabeth got a 16" Glamrock Chica plushie. The Emilys went back to their house, and the Aftons got ready for bed.

William Afton was still nowhere in sight.

Falling in and out of sleep, Michael lay in his bed, snuggled up in a pile of 3 blankets with the fan running. It was peaceful.

That was, until Elizabeth creaked the door open and poked at Michael. And when he didn't respond to pokes, she rocked him back and forth.

"... What, Liz? It's.. I don't even know what time it is, why are you still awake?" he mumbled.

"Me and Ev can't sleep," she whispered, Glamrock Chica plushie in her hands.

"Well, that's not my problem, is it? If you're awake, Santa won't give you any presents. He knows when you're sleeping," Michael told her.

"Exactly! We need you so we can fall asleep, and then Santa can come! Get up already!" she dragged the boy out of his blanket nest as he protested. Evan had been waiting by the stairs, with a nightlight in one hand and a Fredbear plushie in the other. The 3 siblings walked down the stairs as the Christmas tree shined as bright as a fire.

"Why are we going in the living room?" Michael nearly tripped on his feet as Elizabeth led him around the house. He looked down at Evan, who was just as confused.

"Aw, wait... Michael, I'm gonna go take your blankets. Help Evan move the chair closer to the tree, okay?" she said in a hurry as the girl ran back up the stairs. Evan set his nightlight down, and Michael finally understood what Elizabeth was planning.

"I'll get some chairs," Michael muttered to himself.

Soon enough, Elizabeth had hurried back down with blankets in hand. Evan had knocked over a few things while he pushed the chair, but they'd fix it in the morning. Michael spaced out the chairs, and Elizabeth draped them all on top of each other.

It wasn't the best, but it was a feasible blanket fort. Michael took the pillows off of the couch and threw them into the fort, as the 3 settled in and got comfy. Michael propped up one more pillow for his head, and closed his eyes.

"Now go to sleep," he told his siblings. In twin movements, Elizabeth and Evan rested their heads on Michael's shoulders. He could have pushed them off, but he was getting more tired at the second. He listened to their breathing get slower, and Michael laughed at the thought that 'visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.'

Michael started to feel himself drifting away, and just before he fell asleep, he swore he heard the jingling of bells and something on the roof.

Maybe he made that part up in a sleepless haze. Maybe it was really his father's car engine.

[johnniesmoke]

Pipe Dream - Analysis - Song- Lyrics -- Johnnie Smoke

Johnnie Smoke’s lyrics blend ambition, disillusionment, and raw introspection, confronting the struggle between destiny and self-determination. He questions motivation, power, and societal illusions, recognizing that chosen paths are often lonely. The themes of cold truths, resilience, and artistic integrity highlight a mind that refuses to conform.

He dismisses superficial success, emphasizing legacy over momentary gain. The contrast between intellect and materialism reflects his pursuit of deeper meaning. He critiques societal ignorance, misplaced values, and the cost of wisdom. His words are guarded yet explosive, a call to redefine success and restore order. He stands not just as an artist, but as a thinker, reshaping the conversation.

I'm subscribed to the fantasy knowing it's dumb, / Tell me whats supposed to motivate the next guy in line. / God, damn it strikes me that I'll have to be the one. /

It's a pipe dream for the rest, / And it ain't much better if you're chosen lonely but you've got to face the fact that you won't be./ Escorted to the throne. / Time's ticking. / I'm waiting for the feeling to wear off. / A lifetime could go by, and I couldn't shake it, / So I gotta do your dirty work for you, huh? /

I'll tell em' through the thick and thin, / It's worth it in the end, / But I'll draw the line there. / I'm bigger than that. /

Ain't he had enough now? / Ain't he ahead of his time? Looking at the clock tomorrow's the day I requested that "Gods" set me free, but they won't respond. Nah. /

I don't even know what they want with me. / I just know that I've got it. / So if you're asking for secrets, keep walking. /

It's as hard to witness as it is to go through. / Believe me, it was cold, dude. / Cold as ice, paralyzed the soul. / What's the truth worth when you know it's gonna' hurt? /

Is the world ready for this? / I'll come straight with it. / I'll come clean. Alright? /

I hear a whole world of losers / Talking like they know something, / Like they've got something to offer. /

I don't associate./ I'll leave them where I found them./ Yeah, where I found them. /

I care about tomorrow more than I care about you. / I care about my family more than I care about the truth. / I see a whole lot of reason to say nothing at all. /

You're looking lost. / But what's to do? / I don't speak for the fool. / You're cooked thinking I try. /

Yeah, I've got a clue. / It's about time we smarten up as a society. / Yeah, there's nothing wrong with that. /

It's good to be a part of something, / And a whole lot had to go wrong / To get me here saying this. /

So listen, hold yourself in high esteem. / It's like we go way back. / I live in the real world / Where 'fuck-shit' doesn't fly, /

Where the clowns are at the bottom. / Where talking funny ain't gonna solve any problems./ Where the intellectual has respect and the gangsters live in the ghettos. /

Where we stay away from those. / I'm loving life. No cap. Just being honest. / Dropping this to restore some order./ Establish where we're going, making sure it's perfect. /

You should have a white picket fence dream, they tell me, my grandfather had. / I want something better. /

Talking one percent, talking yachts, / Twelve cars and a legacy to pass on. / Don't tell me I'm overzealous. / I'm just getting started. /

Behind the scenes, these verses are heavily guarded, / Waiting for the stars to align and let them pop off. / Keep talking about getting your rocks off. /

That shit ain't talent, that ain't creative, / That ain't nothing. / Maybe something I'd say to my brothers. /

This is about art. / This is about a fresh start, / Clicking the reset button on it all, / Which takes us back to where poetry started. /

The falsehoods you spill, the images you draw./ Ain't nothing in comparison. / I should be walking cloaked in Harvard or MIT tunnels. / Knowing the shit I know. /

I don't care if your wrist is dumb, froze. / They will know me by the face and I'll need nothing more. / That's fa-sho'./

[littleglowingwolf]

bringing this back for reasons

Loose lips might sink ships but loose gooses take trips To San Francisco, double dutch disco Tech TV hottie, do it for Scotty Do it for the living and do it for the dead Do it for the monsters under your bed Do it for the teenagers and do it for your mom Broken hearts hurt but they make us strong and

We won't stop until somebody calls the cops And even then we'll start again and just pretend that Nothing ever happened

We won't stop until somebody calls the cops And even then we'll start again and just pretend that Nothing ever happened

We're just dancing, we're just hugging Singing, screaming, kissing, tugging On the sleeve of how it used to be How's it gonna be? I'll drop kick Russell Stover, move into the starting over house And know Matt Rouse and jest are watching me achieve my dreams

And we'll pray, all damn day, every day That all this shit our president has got us in will go away While we strive to figure out a way we can survive These trying times without losing our minds

So if you wanna burn yourself, remember that I love you And if you wanna cut yourself, remember that I love you And if you wanna kill yourself, remember that I love you Call me up before your dead, we can make some plans instead Send me an IM, I'll be your friend

Shysters live from scheme to scheme and my fourth quarter pipe dreams Are seeming more and more worth fighting for So I'll curate some situations, make my job a big vacation And I'll say, "fuck Bush" and, "fuck this war" My war paint is sharpie ink and I'll show you how much my shit stinks And ask you what you think because your thoughts and words are powerful They think we're disposable, well, both my thumbs opposable Are spelled out on a double word and triple letter score and

We won't stop until somebody calls the cops And even then we'll start again and just pretend that Nothing ever happened

We won't stop until somebody calls the cops And even then we'll start again and just pretend that Nothing ever happened

We won't stop until somebody calls the cops And even then we'll start again and just pretend that Nothing ever happened

We won't stop until somebody calls the cops And even then we'll start again and just pretend that Nothing ever happened

We're just dancing, we're just hugging Singing, screaming, kissing, tugging On the sleeve of how it used to be

[aashipping]

Bad Cramps

This writer is in period amd she's in feral mind state, no beta read so get the fuck off if you don't like this post.

Barok x short chubby reader cause I say so. She has a nickname called Pumpkin.

Platonic Herlock/Reader if you aware that part.

Today's another trial day, the councils are the Reaper of Bailey and the great attorney from East country.

But your body decides to stab your back today.

Curling up in your bed, you don't want to move, don't want to do anything. But you want to hear those familiar voices of your friends.

The waves of sting feeling inside your lower belly and back and everywhere just triggered your unreasonable angry.

Suddenly, you got a new plan.

"Hello, this is Herlock Sholmes." The man said while you can hear the sounds around him.

"Herlock, are you in the Bailey now?"

"You sounds like you're weak or something, Miss Pumpkin. Do you need some help? And yes, I am going to see Mr. Reaper and Mr.Naruhodo's trial today."

You bite down your lip and take a deep breath so that you wouldn't yell at Herlock.

"Wonderful. Can you remain this open so I can listen too? I can't go there but I still want to listen to it. Please Herlock, O the great detective!"

Herlock doesn't say anything, but you can imagine he's raising his eyebrows with a confused and amused face right now.

"As you wish, my lady, but can I get the reason for why you can't come along? And I don't see Heather either."

You clear your throat, "She's with me since I kind of in sick. My back and belly hurt and I am bleeding regularly."

"You what?!"

"Don't be an idiots Herlock, the regular bleeding within women!"

"Oh."

You roll your eyes and turn to the other side.

"Alright, wish you feel better soon, Miss Pumpkin."

"Thanks."

Hearing Barok's voice always brings you peace.

It doesn't matter it's his crashing glass sound, his insults to the jurors, witness or the defence lawyer. You don't mind those harsh words right now.

His deep, rich and smooth voice is what you need at this moment.

You craved for his comfort words.

You craved for his warm touch or even hugs.

Of course, you know this is all your mind and fragil state tricking you. But you don't want to be reasonable for now.

You are bleeding, what would hurt more about dreaming?

To Noruhodo Ryunosuke, it's not his first time to see Lord van Zieks be annoyed and impatience.

But it's his first time to see that prosecutor be that gloomy and aggressive.

So far, Lord van Zieks broke 7 glasses and 2 bottles of wine, and one leg slam in the first three hours.

His death glares are cold enough to freeze the witness and defendant on the spot. Even Asogi and the judge could feel his stormy mood.

"I see Miss Heather isn't come today, does she feel sick or something, Lord van Zieks?"

The prosecutor cross his arms, his eyes are closed. Then he open them with a neutral face.

"Pray forgiveness for the discourtesy of unfocused in this trial, my Lord. I do be bothered by the reason she can't be here. But the true reason got me so impatient with, is the nonsense of my learned friiend."

Everyone could see your unusual aggressive, Lord van Zieks. And how could this be my fault......

"Be careful, Naruhodo. The enemy is awake now, time to bring it to a new possibility and find the truth." Asogi peeks at his lawyer friend and warned him.

"Oh, ugh, right! Thanks, Asogi."

In the break of twenty minutes, Mr.Sholmes sneak into the lounge.

"It's a bad weather today, don't you think, Mr. Naruhodo?" The detective says and smokes his pipe.

"If you mean the prosecutor, then yes it's worse than usual." Naruhodo slumps and has cold sweats.

"Heather isn't here, could that means that Miss Pumpkin is kind of in trouble or something such?" Asogi puts his fingers under his jaws.

"She's uncomfortable today, feels sick. So I let her my ears." Mr.Sholmes snaps his finger and takes out his phone device.

"We're adjourned for twenty minutes now so you can say hi to the boys, Miss Pumpkin."

"...Hello?"

Naruhodo and Susato cheers in excitement.

"Miss Pumpkin! Are you alright? Mr.Sholmes said......"

"Yeah I heard him, just a normal problem, don't worry about it. And you're doing so well so far, guys."

"But Lord van Zieks is so scary today, he's even scarier to Naruhodo-sama! I thought we'll be hung up or something when this trial has its end."

"Don't - Don't say that, Susato-san!"

"He's in that bad mood? Why? The witnesses or the jurors step on the death line or something?"

"I think the answer is more simpler, Miss Pumpkin." Asogi shakes his head.

"He's in the bad mood cycle like a black cat he is? Is that what you're saying about?"

"True but no."

"You confuse me."

When the baliff announced they need to move, you called Naruhodo's name.

"Naruhodo, I think the cake is a lie, you need to review your judicial records."

"The cake? Oh ugh I will, thanks Miss Pumpkin."

"Mr. Disanst, you said that you were going to a bakery, can you tell us why you were going to there?"

"Oh uhm... You know, my wife has a sweet tooth and she craves the sweet when she's in mood or having a bad pain monthly. So I buy her cake when she doesn't feel good."

Some audience in aww and compliant him.

Yet, Naruhodo found that there's no cake on the table in the photo.

And there's a butter knife on the cabinet, with a cup of tea.

"But it's weird, there's no cake in the photo, a butter knife and a cup of tea with a strong drug in it are set behind the door, right on the cabinet. Can you tell me why and who put them there?"

"Who knows? Maybe my wife? And I didn't eat cake with my wife you see. I was in the living room."

Naruhodo slams the table.

"Objection! I am afraid the cake is a lie, Mr.Disanst."

"You didn't in the living room, you were in the bedroom. You drugged your wife to put her into sleep, and you took this chance to strangle Miss Cassandra to death before you stabbed the butter knife into her chest and left your unconscious wife with the body."

"You-You have no evidence! This are all your imagination! Why would I kill Cassandra?"

"It's the letter and the cake, Mr.Disanst. You cheated on your wife with Miss Cassandra. She baked the cake and you poured the drug in the tea. You two were planning to kill your wife, but you accidentally found her secret, her betrayal with a backup plan to blackmail you. So you killed her, set your own wife up, so you could keep playing the victim role."

The case is dismissed, and Lord van Zieks seems to lost in his thoughts.

After the trial, he rushes to a famous bakery nearby the Court.

[jaydeemainmansblog]

And and most importantly for you guys to allow a city that doesn't snow we called it no beach in the wild . My dick is hard as a rock just knowing that I genocide in New York of course I have to give credit to to New Mexico for this.. yeah we're The real slim shady of of NE New England please stand up

How f****** dare you bring me down to to Pensacola and have a black girls I should have never been born become satellite makers press the button over my head how dare you to bring me to baton rouge a city of black girls that should have been born you can't do that for him allow him to to stockpile black hair white skin girls p*** become satellite mickerson and operators to press the button up on my head when I when I arrive how f****** desperate are you to allow Florida to do this

How f****** desperate is your f****** white family to give a handjob to a black man to allow Florida to fill up with black girls or all six if you depress the button over my head how f****** dare you...

I last but at least my daughter is an accident in Miami all the sudden the whole time you guys broke protocol you guys going to pay for it all the sudden granted me a daughter in Miami that I've never had a family in Miami that never had cuz your crack pipe f****** crackers on my dick in the cars okay every single one of them all the sudden might acknowledge all the sudden I have a family in Miami all the sudden I have a daughter in Miami because your men are on my dick and and it can't deny me because they know it's not true they can't deny me that I don't have a daughter down there but all the sudden you want to bring it up and every minute my daughter is the problem in Miami f*** you

We do have an example your black skin man should have never been born but for some reason he's farting better n***** daughters that the n***** daughter of Mississippi is better than the n***** daughter of Hartford how could this happen that the n***** daughter of of New Orleans is is better than the n***** daughter of of Oklahoma how could this happen is black boy should have been born but he's getting some some different n***** daughters a better n***** daughters oh

That's right I'm going to file a complaint about you exchanging black girls or not and not involving in my game on the airplane she can't have a dirty black ass on on airplane seat she has to be white my only engagement it is extending white girls so so for for me to have called hard for that you're not worthy of exchanging girls but but for you guys to be exchanging black girls for some black boy that says oh that's that black girl of of south Mississippi that n***** daughter is isn't as good as that n***** daughter off of North Carolina oh now I get it

Most the most important I'm I'm going to pursue you guys with blood and violence for allowing South Florida to to fill up with black and white skin girls born sick they should have never been born and for you guys you know I will please for your family okay off of she should have never had hopes in in dreams of of working at McDonald's and enabled Walmart you had that statement the whole time you had that statement the whole time I said your people are making me sick to the statements that you're having your kids killed for it makes me tired and it makes me sick and it really makes me sick of of hearing the statements that these kids are said to Wichita killed and said to Houston and killed it makes me sick having to go over these statements

I will take we don't need your black girls opinion or your white girl's opinion we will be better off listening to a black skin boy opinion I think that's around the board across the board of this being for two Men and not for two girls here in your country....

[vikenticomeshome]

Meridian 157 - Chapter 1 (Walkthrough and Story Discussion) (part 1/?)

We're back. Last post, we completed the prologue, and now we are entering Chapter 1. However, before we get into it, let's do a quick recap of the prologue.

It is now August of 2018. You are David Zander, a forensic meteorologist working in Anchorage, Alaska. Supercell thunderstorms have been appearing at an unusually high rate in coastal areas. The situation is bad enough that people are talking about evacuating coastal areas.

Your equipment detected an unusual electromagnetic storm on a small island of unknown sovereignty.

You drove your boat for 11 hours to reach the island, which appears to be deserted, with the power still running.

The only sign of human inhabitants was a strange shadow man, and you are no longer certain as to whether that was a dream.

You found the journal of Captain Herald, a sailor who became marooned on the island in 2006. He slowly lost his mind, and he reported seeing shadowy figures like the one that you saw.

You persevered through puzzles and acquired a set of three rings. These opened an underground bunker.

The bunker contained reference to an organization or project called F.L.A.R.E. who may be responsible for the anomalies on this island.

You managed to activate an elevator to take you deeper.

And then, the power to the elevator failed, and you were left in darkness. And so, Chapter 1 of your journey begins.

Thankfully, while the main light has failed, an emergency light has come on. The lever for taking the elevator up or down is not working. However, you can see a hatch on the ceiling.

You realize that, based on the label on the wall, you have reached basement 21.

You climb up the nearby landing. You pick up the coin, hoping that it will bring you some luck. The door to B21 is closed, but perhaps you can unscrew the maintenance panel to get the door open.

The coin works to unscrew the panel. However, to your dismay, you are not met with a simple switch. Instead, the inside of the panel is a mess of components. You reason that you need to move the four locking bars inwards far enough to disengage the lock on the door. However, you also reason that you need to slide several other components out of the way to make this possible.

With time, the solution comes to you, and you are able to open the door ahead.

You find yourself in a well-lit industrial corridor. You hear a hissing sound ahead.

The path upon your left is blocked by hot steam, and the cabinet attached to the pipes is locked. You leave it alone for now, as you would get horrific burns.

There is a crate against the wall to your right. It is nailed shut, but the nails haven't been driven in very deep. You try to pull then out, but you cannot get a grip with your hands alone.

A three-part sign looms ahead. On the left, you have a path to the Power Room and the Residence Area. On the right, you have a path to the Machine Room.

You decide to head to the left first. The elevator did lose power, after all, so the Power Room may have the solution. The path to the Power Room now curves to the right. You can just make out some rocky rubble beyond the curve, which gives you a sinking feeling.

Alas, you were right to be concerned. The path to the Power Room has been completely caved in. You know better than to try to shift the rubble and risk bringing the tunnel down on your head. You are able to retrieve a pair of pliers. And then, you notice a crate half-buried in the rubble.

You can make out little bits of printing on the crate. You are still eager to find clues as to what happened. However, the surface is coated in dried mud. Your hands alone are not enough to clean away the dirt, but you keep the crate in mind for later.

Instead, you take a step back and continue along the path to the left. Perhaps you will find someone in the Residence Area who can help you.

You marvel at the massive yellow air duct to your right. You are immensely grateful that it is still working. You pick up an extension cable sitting a crate to your right before moving on. The issue with the elevator losing power is still fresh in your mind.

You arrive at the door to the Residence Area. You find it locked, and you try banging on it. However, the door is so thick that, even if someone was there, they probably wouldn't hear you.

As you turn to leave, you notice an overturned metal cage. There is a create inside, and there is some sort of drawstring is sitting on the crate. However, with the cage overturned like this, you can't get it opened. There are holes in the cage, but they are too small for your hands to squeeze through. You even try your pliers, but they are also too big.

However, as you lament that your pliers couldn't help you, you remember that crate in the first hallway. You are able to pull the nails out and get the crate open. All you find the crate is a single light bulb. You take it and put it somewhere safe. Maybe it will be useful for something.

Having exhausted all options with the Power Room and Residence Area, you take the path to the right marked "Machine Room". The area opens up. You can head left or right here.

You take the left path, and you can see the entrance to the machine room ahead. You really hope that this can take you somewhere.

The sight of the keypad next to the door does not inspire confidence.

As you expected, the Machine Room door is securely locked.

The keypad also contains a slot for some sort of ID card. It looks like you still have a long way to go if you want to get into this room.

Editor's Note: And just like that, we are already at the 30 image limit. See you again in the next part.

[tomk447]

The Cloud Streaming Revolution: How It's Changing TV as We Know It

Let me tell you, I've been in the TV biz for longer than I care to admit. I've seen tech come and go, but this cloud streaming thing? It's not just another fad. It's turning everything we know about making and watching TV on its head.

So grab a coffee (or something stronger) and let's dive into what's really going on with cloud streaming. Trust me, whether you're a TV junkie or work in the industry, you're gonna want to know this stuff.

Out with the Old, In with the Cloud

Remember those massive TV trucks you'd see at big events? Yeah, those dinosaurs are on their way out. Everything's moving to the cloud, and for good reason. It's flexible, it scales up when you need it, and it won't make your accountant cry (as much).

This is huge for the little guys. Now, you don't need deep pockets to play with the big boys. Got a great idea for a channel? You can get it up and running faster than ever.

The Need for Speed

In today's world, if it's not instant, it's ancient history. That's why everyone's obsessed with cutting down lag time. There's some fancy tech with even fancier names (WebRTC, SRT, CMAF) that's making streams feel more "live" than ever.

It's not just about bragging rights. This stuff matters for sports, news, and anything interactive. Soon, you won't have to worry about Twitter spoiling the game-winning goal before you see it on your "live" stream.

AI: The Unsung Hero

Artificial intelligence is quietly taking over behind the scenes. It's doing everything from adding captions to making sure you see stuff you'll actually like. I've seen firsthand how this tech is making life easier for the folks behind the camera and better for those of us watching at home.

But here's the really cool part: AI is opening doors to new kinds of shows and ways to watch that we couldn't even dream of before.

The CDN Juggling Act

Once upon a time, TV networks could get away with using just one content delivery network (CDN) and calling it a day. Not anymore. With viewers all over the globe, it's turned into this crazy juggling act with multiple CDNs.

It's all about making sure you get your show whether you're in New York or New Delhi, without any "buffering" nonsense. It's complicated as hell, but it's becoming a must-have in our connected world.

Locking It Down

With hackers making headlines left and right, security has gone from afterthought to top priority. We're talking serious encryption, digital rights management, and even some blockchain magic to keep everything safe.

It's not just about protecting the good stuff (though that's important). It's about keeping viewers' trust and staying on the right side of the law. One big security mess-up can tank a company these days.

The Bumps in the Road

Now, it's not all smooth sailing. We've got some hurdles to jump:

Bandwidth Blues: We keep pushing for better and better picture quality, but the internet pipes can only handle so much. It's a constant battle, especially in places where the internet isn't great.

Scaling Headaches: Sure, the cloud promises infinite scaling, but it's trickier than it sounds. Managing resources during big events or when something goes viral? It's like trying to predict the weather.

Tech Alphabet Soup: There are so many different standards and formats out there, it's enough to make your head spin. Getting everything to play nice together is a real pain.

Quality Control Chaos: Making sure everyone has a good experience, no matter what device they're using or how crappy their internet is? It's a nightmare, but it's crucial.

What's Coming Down the Pike

Alright, time to put on my fortune-teller hat. Here's what I think is coming our way:

Democratization of Broadcasting: The little guys are getting a chance to shine. Cloud tech is making it easier for anyone with a good idea to get their content out there.

Personalization on Steroids: We're talking streams that adapt to what you like in real-time. Ads that feel less like interruptions and more like suggestions. It's gonna get wild.

Blurring the Lines: Get ready for TV that you don't just watch, but interact with. Live shopping, concerts where you're part of the show, sports with AR overlays – it's all coming.

Edge Computing Enters the Chat: This tech processes stuff closer to where you are, making everything faster and smoother, especially on mobile.

The Big Players Making Moves

A few companies are really leading the charge here:

Amazon Web Services (AWS): These guys are using their massive infrastructure to make streaming more reliable and scalable. Their machine learning stuff for analyzing content is pretty impressive.

Amagi: They're all about making it easier to run channels in the cloud and make money from them. Their ad insertion tech for live TV is pretty slick.

TVU Networks: These folks are killing it with IP-based live video, especially for news and sports. Their cloud platform for switching between video sources is a game-changer.

Mainstreaming: They're doing some cool stuff with machine learning to deliver content more efficiently. Their peer-to-peer delivery tech is pretty innovative.

Crystal Ball Time: What's Next?

Alright, here's what my gut tells me about where we're headed:

5G and edge computing are gonna make mobile streaming insane. Think AR/VR on your phone and betting on sports with zero lag.

AI is gonna start creating content on its own and translating stuff in real-time.

We might see decentralized streaming platforms pop up, giving creators more control.

Quantum computing could solve our bandwidth problems (fingers crossed).

Get ready for TV that feels more like a video game or social media.

Green streaming is gonna be a big deal as we try to save the planet.

We'll need better ways to spot fake videos as that tech gets scarier.

Expect to see a mix of cloud and edge tech becoming the norm.

Wrapping It Up

Look, cloud streaming isn't just changing the game – it's creating a whole new one. For anyone in the TV world, the message is clear: innovate or get left in the dust.

I've been in this business for a long time, and I gotta say, I'm pumped to see what comes next. The possibilities are endless, and we're just getting started. So buckle up, folks – the future of TV is gonna be one hell of a ride.

[the-firebird69]

A son and daughter have an idea it's kind of like his cigars and it's a company he wants to form and it's called "Beer Me" and it's not off brand but it's just a couple brands that are not selling huge and we own them and we will use the label their hours because you left them behind and no it's not Miller it's not Michelob and it's not Schlitz okay they're just smaller companies and he says that they're called off brand and he's going to make a mail order company so you can have people send each other beer and send yourselves beer but if you have a party coming up and it'll do okay outside unless it's like really hot and you send it to your friend's house and it's kept warm and we'll put it in the shade hopefully and you will have the beer at your friend's house before the party and your friend can store it there inside warm and just chill it before the party and he has the name of who it is and people like the idea. And of course we selling hard liquor too all different types and nips and a variety of types of alcohol at the core hard alcohol grain and what all the whiskeys and vodkas you can dream of and rum and gin and just about everything and they're off brand so they're cheaper and it's not much money to ship a lot of plastic bottles and we're going to make them with a lot less sugar if any and esters and people will start to drink them. UPS DHL Amazon USPS and any other type of delivery but really will use the main big ones and we will check ID you need to issue your ID to purchase it a lot of people will try and have their parents do it and we have a way of age verification and yeah it's a rough business you'll say and we have lawyers and they want to do this it's not a huge risk and we can't get anything to work otherwise and we want to start the idea and no it's not rolling Rock but keep going well no Hera choors is huge. And we're going to start the brand generic beer as well with one of our breweries for more than one and it's going to go ahead and we're going to try it mostly we're going to try and distribute from a local distributors so we will have a truck come from FedEx and fill it up in the morning and we don't want to travel more than 20 miles it shakes the beer up too much but we have small distributor warehouse this we can use and we can start using alcohol distributors and especially for hard stuff that's easy it can go anywhere this is a good idea mail order the way that you order it is going to be simple we don't want to massive website and he wants to make the form simple and the way you do it simple and the ID easy you can take a picture but you punch the number in so we don't have to screw around with your computer if it doesn't work and when you're done your order you click order now or complete or whatever we're going to put on there and you'll hear like yay and clapping and party sounds. And we're going to have a wine for sale and all sorts of things you'll never believe it and we're going to hire people for this one and we have to do delivery stuff everything and we're going to put it in the pipe and I want to see it go forwards because we have to watch it

Thor Freya

Olympus

Did you see the song in his head in for some reason I'm listening it's like a who song did he changes to beer me and he used to do it and say beer me I don't understand but this is weird so people have tried this before and it doesn't work that great and people don't like to do it if you try and get it fast it takes too much money and things like that but they said that they're going to have a huge distributorship and they'll be doing it locally and I'd like to see that so they're going to take a limited number of things number one selling type stuff and cram pack a bunch of warehouses that's the way to do it and I want to see it work if it does we're going to have to start doing it but we'll probably won't be able to it's going to be a huge company it's going to be ridiculous because stores will be ordering it and they might be able to get a discount if they buy a lot most people will buy like a bottle or two and they'll be buying a few cases it usually works this is an interesting idea I might actually try it

Mac daddy

Olympus

[charliesinfern0]

me talking about my f/os under the cut :3

ichi really makes me think of cuddling in a cozy bedroom, with freshly cleaned blankets that are still a little warm from the dryer ^_^ and he makes me think of lavender bc 1) its purple :) and 2) there was this super cute fic i read that said he was calming like lavender and now i always associate lavender with him

bc of this one fic i read, i will always think of korosensei smelling like books and rain ^_^ he's very refreshing to me, like a glass of cold lemonade and he reminds me of that warm sleepy feeling I get after a trip to the beach

for some reason ford makes me think of like extremely condimented hotdogs with a bunch of fixings... maybe bc they remind me of the freaky alien food he and arthur eat in the show lol ^_^ and i associate him with twilight bc of the song called twilight by electric light orchestra :) and he makes me think of laying on a blanket at a park and stargazing... and ofc because of restaurant at the end of the universe he makes me think of a late night diner date. i also like to think that he wears an extremely strong and cheap cologne that smells like marzipan lol

i love the smell of a campfire so i just think it fits for pyro to smell like one, and then they also remind me of a marshmallow because theyre so sweet ^_^ and they make me think of the beach on fourth of july... a humid night with fireworks

dr. 0 makes me think of jello bc he's a brain in a jar 😭 and like the rest of the freak tank he is a freak but he's the least freaky compared to the rest... no old man rival yaoi, no sexual fixation on humans or straight up jerking it into sound wave technology.... so he is water mmm 😩 but!!! the courier brings out the worst in him 🙂‍↕️☝️ and the sterile smell does it for them WHAT. who said that.....

anyway. faust's bag on his head makes me think of tiramisu ^_^ i associate him with late winter, walking through the city on a snowy evening, the street lamps turning on, leaning into him for warmth, and he smells like apple pie

laios makes me think of eating a warm bowl of fluffy buttery mashed potatoes, on the couch with a blanket on a dark, cool autumn evening, and I think about crawling under the covers with him after, feeling all sleepy, cuddling close and smelling his honey-scented shampoo and running my fingers through his soft hair

i associate yes man with mug cakes bc of the time i made a mug cake in a mug made with lead and got sick and then made art of my courier in the same situation ^_^ and yknow old novelty soda like crystal pepsi just fits so well to me. he smells like gun powder, the smell makes you feel dizzy, dizzy like the lights of vegas make you feel, bright like his smile :]

allan makes me think of going to subway late in the evening 😭 city boy loves his subs... poor guy fighting his way through the city, just to make it to his date... sitting on the curb putting a cold soda to his bruised cheek. i like to think that he starts wearing a pine scented cologne so he could hide the smell of sweat, hide the fact that he's nervous about ruining our date, clutching a small bouquet of crumpled daisies...

caine makes me think of sickeningly sweet things, tastes like red velvet and smells like white chocolate. overwhelming like a speeding carousel. his only framework for romance and courting is cliche movies, so of course we're going on a date to "paris" to drink champagne at a fancy restaurant. slow dancing, putting carnations in my hair.... he's not good with words, he's good at putting on a show

the pomegranate symbolism ☝️ fits micolash well.... i imagine before everything, he and the good hunter, an ex mensis student, running through the halls together, only guided by the light of the full moon, young and... infatuated, maybe not reciprocated, they never really said how they truly felt... now all the hunter has is the smell of blood that fills their nose in their dreams when theyre close to him... and the ghost pipe is not actually a flower, but a kind of fungus, which i think fits him well :)

GRAVEL WAR BE DAMNED, ENGIE JUST WANTS TO GRILL!! a warm summer evening barbecue, sipping sweet iced tea with friends, maybe after the time skip engie and jan would host fourth of july parties in their back yard ^_^

the crackers, dried fruit and cured meats of a charcuterie board just screams pathologic to me... vera feeding daniil a decadent fig..... autumn is in full swing in the town on gorkhon, it's getting dark much earlier, he and vera are walking home... he looks over where the polyhedron no longer stands and he realizes he mistook his own shadow in the streetlight for vera... memories of them close together in his study, the cloying smell of dusty books and ink

lux is blue, like blue raspberry... he can be sweet like them too hehe ^_^ despite the faint scent of buttered popcorn, he smells like old libretto pages and he feels fuzzy, kind of papery and slightly warm to the touch. when i hold him close i expect to hear a heartbeat but i only hear my own... he reminds me of the feeling of when you go to the theater in the evening and when you walk out its night time

egg head and geneva are often found together either standing out in the cold or inside clubs, dancing the night away. geneva stands close to the speakers, close to the music, close to egg, feeling the reverberations of his voice in her chest, the ice cracking beneath them.

when i was younger i would imagine wheatley and i waking up together in our little country house and making blueberry pancakes together for breakfast, and its funny bc the tea mug in the photo is actually a part of a china set that my mom has :) i think about the end of portal 2 where wheatley and i escape together, and we just lie in the wheat field together, looking at the bright blue sky with fluffy white clouds and the shining sun...

soldier is burger and fry bc hes american 🦅 he holds jan close and they rocket jump into the sky, flying through the clouds... for some reason me makes me think of apple orchards, i think he and jan would have fun picking apples together (he picks up jan by the waist so she can reach the apples, ladders are for pansies!)

my f/os if they were :)

[thefanficmonster]

Hello! Could you please write some headcanons for Lord Heisenberg and reader who has the ability to have prophetic dreams? Reader has never told about their ability to anyone but Karl and still cannot fully accept it. But Heisenberg is not Heisenberg if he is not interested in such an unusual thing. Can he help reader embrace their unique gift of seeing prophetic dreams? Thank you!

Oh that's such an interesting idea and what a wonderful gift to possess! I'm overjoyed to be writing about it and I hope you enjoy 💕

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg x Reader (Gender Neutral) [Resident Evil: Village]

Warning: SPOILERS for RE Village, Mentions of human experimentation and PTSD, Crying

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Summary: see request above

Karl had always known you were a part of the chain of experiments as well

That's what originally got you two bonding

However, apart from surface-level understanding on that common ground, you never dug deeper in conversation

He could tell you would rather not recall or mention those dark times

Which is why he never knew what to think - the reason you, on first glance, appeared to be powerless even after undergoing the procedures

He had a hard time believing you were a failed experiment cause he knows better than anyone how Miranda dealt with those

But without visible alterations to your human form or any obvious powers, he had a reason to believe you were an escapee Miranda never bothered to retrieve

He'd offered you a room at the factory, forming an alliance to keep you both above the tide of the witch's wrath

Which is why he was soon given a glimpse of your powers when one night he was awoken by your screams

Upon investigating he found you were still asleep and, as carefully as he could, he approached you and shook you awake

Your limp body, covered in cold sweat, fell into his arms, your tears dampening the sleeve of his shirt

Through tears, you informed him of what you saw in your dream - the day of reckoning, as you'd called it

The day an outsider would step into the village and commence a slaughter of its people

"He'll....he'll hurt you, Karl!"

Putting two and two together, Karl could almost smile to himself, proud of you for your gift

But the more you talked about it through the night, the more he realized you were far from proud of it yourself

"It's not normal! It's not something I wanted! I didn't want or deserve what happened to me. This is in no way compensation for ruining my life!" You'd argued, hugging the blanked close to your chest

Suddenly, the metal bed lifted with you still on it, causing you to yelp

"This isn't normal either, Y/N. But it's fulfilling knowing that I could jab a metal pipe in Miranda's heart with just a thought if I wanted to."

He carefully settled the bed back on the floor, "And you can foresee events and bend them to your liking."

You'd never put it that way yourself

You only saw your gift as a curse bestowed upon you by a horrible person under horrible circumstances

"These powers, gifts, they make us better for the time we spent being tortured. All the times we felt helpless. Now we're not so helpless, are we?"

When seen through that context, coming to terms with your gift didn't seem so hard

And knowing you possibly saved Karl's life by telling him about your dream, it makes it practically all worth it

[thebonggirll]

chapter nine

< previous: chapter eight

Percy sat in the driver's seat of Grover's Lamborghini. Grover was asleep in the back. He'd finally given up trying to impress Zoe and Bianca with his pipe music after he played "Poison Ivy" and caused that very stuff to sprout from their Lexus's air conditioner.

As he watched the sun go down, he thought of Y/N -  well, about the conversation he was about to have with her. About to. This...might not be the appropriate time to tell her everything. Besides, he wanted to be clean about it in front of Annabeth as well.

"What?" she asked looking up at him with those curious eyes.

He felt his throat tighten up and instead of revealing the matter to her, he choked out the words, "Thalia has gone back, you can get some rest here now."

It seemed like those words...bothered her a bit as her expression went down for just a second and then she was smiling again. She patted his chest lightly and moved away from him. He started feeling cold again.

To be precise, he missed her warmth already.

He looked back at Y/N, whose face was turned away from him. Maybe she was...sleeping, peacefully. He felt afraid to go to sleep. He was worried about what he might dream again.

"Oh, don't be afraid of dreams," a voice said right next to him.

As he looked over. Somehow, he wasn't surprised to find the homeless guy from the rail yard standing beside the shotgun seat and stroking Y/N's hair endearingly. His jeans were so worn out they were almost white. His coat was ripped, with stuffing coming out. He looked kind of like a teddy bear that had been run over by a truck. But he was crossing the line.

"Hey," he snapped, "Don't touch her."

"Oh?" the man said, retracting his hand with an amused expression. "If it weren't for dreams, I wouldn't know half the things I know about the future. They're better than Olympus tabloids." He cleared his throat, then held up his hands dramatically:

"Dreams like a podcast, Downloading truth in my ears. They tell me cool stuff"

Apollo?" Percy guessed because he figured nobody else could make a haiku that bad. Suddenly he felt a wave of shame cover his body. He just told Apollo to back off from his own daughter. Maybe he should've read the atmosphere first.

He put his finger to his lips. "I'm incognito. Call me Fred. And don't worry, I'm glad to know you can take care of my daughter."

Percy's ears turned red. He wanted to change the topic. "A god named Fred?" he asked.

"Eh, well... Zeus insists on certain rules. Hands off, when there's a human quest. Even when something really major is wrong. But nobody messes with my baby sister. Nobody."

"Can you help us, then?"

"Shhh. I already have. Haven't you been looking outside?"

"The train. How fast are we moving?"

Apollo chuckled. "Fast enough. Unfortunately, we're running out of time. It's almost sunset. But I imagine we'll get you across a good chunk of America, at least."

"But where is Artemis?"

His face darkened. "I know a lot, and I see a lot. But even I don't know that. She's... clouded from me. I don't like it."

"And Annabeth?"

He frowned. "Oh, you mean that girl you lost? Hmm. I don't know."

Percy tried not to feel mad. He knew the gods had a hard time taking mortals seriously, even half-bloods. Or maybe, he was a bit angry about the reaction he gave earlier for touching his daughter. He would like to think it's for the earlier case. For some reason, he didn't want to mess with Y/N's father.

"Percy," Apollo looked at him with a serious expression, "If my daughter wants to join my sister, don't stop her. It's a warning."

Percy couldn't find words to tell him. No, he didn't want her to join but how could he just go against a god's wish? "What about the monster Artemis was seeking?" he asked changing the topic. "Do you know what it is?"

"No," Apollo said. "But there is one who might. If you haven't yet found the monster when you reach San Francisco, seek out Nereus, the Old Man of the Sea. He has a long memory and a sharp eye. He has the gift of knowledge sometimes kept obscure from my Oracle."

"But it's your Oracle," Percy protested. "Can't you tell us what the prophecy means?"

Apollo sighed. "You might as well ask an artist to explain his art or ask a poet to explain his poem. It defeats the purpose. The meaning is only clear through the search."

"In other words, you don't know."

Apollo checked his watch. "Ah, look at the time! I have to run. I doubt I can risk helping you again, Percy, but remember what I said! Get some sleep! And when you return, I expect a good haiku about your journey!"

Percy wanted to protest that he wasn't tired and he'd never made up a haiku in his life, but Apollo snapped his fingers, and the next thing he knew he was closing his eyes.

Percy sat bolt upright in the Lamborghini's driver's seat. Y/N was shaking his arm.

"Percy," she said. "It's morning. The train's stopped. Come on!"

He tried to shake off his drowsiness. Thalia, Zoe, and Bianca had already rolled up the metal curtains. Outside were snowy mountains dotted with pine trees, the sun rising red between two peaks.

He fished his pen out of his pocket and stared at it. Anaklusmos, the Ancient Greek name for Riptide. A different form, but he was sure it was the same blade he'd seen in his dream.

And he was sure of something else, too. The girl he had seen was Zoe Nightshade.

"Are you okay?" Y/N muttered looking at his demeanor. She put her hand on his forehead, most probably to check his body for any kind of discomfort.

"I just...had a dream," he said.

Y/N gasped and looked curiously at him, "Anything about Annabeth?"

"No, I'll tell you later," he said and stared at her for some time. She soon realized how long they have been staring at each other. Clearing her throat, she was about to move away when Percy held her arm.

"You know your father was here right?" he said.

She smiled, "Oh the homeless guy back then? Of course!"

"Hey..I'm a bit curious," he said, "You are a child of Apollo. You're supposed to understand what the prophecies mean right? Then....why don't you tell us? It would help Annabeth. Unless..."

Y/N furrowed her brows hearing him and snatched her arm away, "Unless what? I want to leave her to die? Is that what you mean?"

"No, that's not what I-"

"Yeah okay whatever. Look here Percy. Even though I have a vague idea of what the prophecies mean, I cannot be sure about it. Sure I can give you an idea of what I think it means but being the child of Apollo, it also means I'm disrupting the flow of events. My information could change the prophecy itself and lead to a disaster. I'm not even sure if that can happen. All I know is that if everything changes because of me then I might be the cause of a lot of deaths." Y/N frowned, "Sometimes you should think from my perspective. You think I enjoy keeping this all to myself when I know it might help Annabeth?"

With that little statement, she went away to the back.

They'd arrived on the outskirts of a little ski town nestled in the mountains. The sign said 'WELCOME TO CLOUDCROFT, NEW MEXICO'. The air was cold and thin. The roofs of the cabins were heaped with snow, and dirty mounds of it were piled up on the sides of the streets. Tall pine trees loomed over the valley, casting pitch-black shadows, though the morning was sunny.

As they walked, Percy told Grover about his conversation with Apollo the night before—how he'd told him to seek out Nereus in San Francisco. Ofcourse, leaving the whole conversation about Y/N aside. Although he wanted it to be an ice-breaker and make Y/N calm down from before, it somehow made it worse. Sure, all of them started being warm as she was angry before but his information made her angrier. He knew cause she was emitting more heat than before.

"So my father talked to you but didn't even feel the need to talk to me?" she asked him, almost like it was his fault. It made him realize how she felt for all the times he accused her of something that wasn't his fault.

"Sorry," he said.

"Why are you sorry?" she asked angrily, "It's not your fault!"

"Sor-" Percy was about to apologize again but stopped after seeing her expression. Y/N didn't ever use her powers on him but for once he felt that she might.

"This is why I didn't want a boy in this quest," Zoe said, stomping away.

Grover looked uneasy and whispered, "Anyways, I think it's good that you talked to him. But we've got to get there first."

Percy tried not to get too depressed about their chances. He didn't want to send Grover into panic, but he knew they had another huge deadline looming, aside from saving Artemis in time for her council of the gods. The General had said Annabeth would only be kept alive until the winter solstice. That was Friday, only four days away. And he'd said something about a sacrifice. He didn't like the sound of that at all.

They stopped in the middle of town. One could pretty much see everything from there: a school, a bunch of tourist stores and cafes, some ski cabins, and a grocery store.

"Great," Thalia said, looking around. "No bus station. No taxis. No car rental. No way out."

"There's a coffee shop!" said Grover.

"Yes," Zoe said. "Coffee is good."

"And pastries," Grover said dreamily. "And wax paper."

Thalia sighed. "Fine. How about you three go get us some food. Percy, Bianca, and I will check in the grocery store. Maybe they can give us directions."

They agreed to meet back in front of the grocery store in fifteen minutes. Bianca looked a little uncomfortable coming with them, but she did.

As Zoe was busy choosing muffins and drinks for everyone, Grover pulled Y/N away from her a bit and asked, "Are you...going to join them?"

Y/N smiled at him, though, a smile full of guilt, "I'm not sure yet."

"Please don't," he said almost immediately.

"Wait, why not? I mean-"

"Because I don't wanna lose you! I'm sure Percy and Annabeth would think the same!" he said.

"Why do you think Annabeth won't join with me?" she asked, amused.

"I-I mean-" Grover stuttered trying to find the right sentence.

"For Percy?" said asked, "I know."

"No, not for him," he sighed, "I'm not supposed to tell you this but...it's for Luke."

A part of Y/N always believed that something happened between Luke and Annabeth but they never talked about it. Ever since Luke turned on them, even speaking of his name is a touchy subject. But...the reason for staying should be Percy. It's the right thing to do after all. Not for Luke, but for Percy. As always, there's seems to be something that happened in the group that she isn't aware of.

"Grover, how's their relationship going? Are they-"

Unfortunately, before they could finish their conversation, Zoe was already done with the orders. They took the bags and started walking towards the grocery store. Grover almost looked like he was glad how the conversation is over.

And this could mean only one thing. Percy and Annabeth were dealing with problems in their relationship. Something both of them didn't want to talk about with anyone. Either they told this to Grover, or he once again used his power to read their feelings. Y/N felt like there was a huge gap between her and the group again. Everyone was aware of everyone else. It was only her - it's always her who's left out of it.

Fine. She didn't want to be nosy either. Y/N was done trying over and over again. She won't be somewhere she's not wanted. Not anymore.

When they arrived with the drinks and pastries, Percy looked like he already said something to offend Bianca going by the looks she was giving him.

"We should do the tracking spell," Zoe said. "Grover, do you have any acorns left?"

"Umm," Grover mumbled. He was chewing on a bran muffin, wrapper and all. "I think so. I just need to—"

He froze.

Percy was about to ask what was wrong, when a warm breeze rustled past, like a gust of springtime had gotten lost in the middle of winter. Fresh air seasoned with wildflowers and sunshine. And something else—almost like a voice, trying to say something. A warning.

Zoe gasped. "Grover, thy cup."

Grover dropped his coffee cup, which was decorated with pictures of birds. Suddenly the birds peeled off the cup and flew away—a flock of tiny doves. Percy's rubber rat squeaked. It scampered off the railing and into the trees—real fur, real whiskers.

Grover collapsed next to his coffee, which steamed against the snow. They gathered around him and tried to wake him up. He groaned, his eyes fluttering.

"Hey!" Thalia said, running up from the street. "I just... What's wrong with Grover?"

"I don't know," Percy said. "He collapsed."

"Uuuuuhhhh," Grover groaned.

"Well, get him up!" Thalia said. She had her spear in her hand. She looked behind her as if she were being followed. "We have to get out of here."

next: chapter ten >

book three: the titan’s curse

percy jackson x reader series

MASTERLIST

Tags: @the-natureofme @sly-prince @kookiedesi @instabull @jumpingtrainsandflyingskies @idk-bye-no @your-typical-giggle @fjschl​ @imuziawi​ @iamparou​ @marshmallow12435​

[twoidiotwriters1]

Copycat: Origins —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

A/N: We reach the end of phase three at last! I might not post next phase right away cause I haven’t finished it (first time that’s happened in a while) but I’m hoping it’ll only take an extra week, maybe less if you’re lucky -Danny

Words: 2,155

Phase Three Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Phase Four

Listen to: ‘Birds’ -by Imagine Dragons

xxx: Fallen Heroes

"Agent Copycat reporting for duty," she stood beside Fury, both of them facing the group of people that were scattering.

He hummed. "It's been a long day, agent. Dare I say it's been more than a day in your case. Take some time off, I'll call you."

She was almost glad to hear him say that. "Fine, but don't take too long."

He chuckled lowly. "Look at you, pretending you want this..."

"It's what I do best," She saw Peter walking in their direction. "Pretend."

Cat excused herself and met Peter halfway, she smiled a little.

"Have you and May found a new place to stay?"

"We're still looking."

"What about Pietro's apartment?"

He looked at her. "What about you and Wanda?"

She shrugged. "She talks to me but it's not like we're close friends. She understands I didn't mean any hurt... I'm sorry about what happened between us, though."

Peter kept his eyes on her and she knew what was coming even before he'd blurted out his reply.

"Don't break up with me."

"Pete..." She said tiredly.

"We can make it work, C.C."

"C.C. doesn't exist anymore," Cat replied in frustration. "We burnt her papers, deleted school files, everything."

"Okay," He replied, clutching his hope. "Copycat's been my partner for years— I dated her too, and I know she loves me—"

"I like someone else now," She said plainly. "I've been with others while you were gone. I'm sorry... It's— It's not just our age gap. You were gone for too long."

Cat hadn't originally planned to confess that to Peter, but it seemed that nothing in the world could convince him to give up on her. Pietro once told her that when you love someone, nothing they do can make you leave, so Peter had to stop loving her.

"I killed people," She hid her hands in her pockets so he couldn't see them shaking. "I wanted others to suffer. I stole things from people that didn't deserve it. Our future was nothing but a dream, and what I've done, that's the reality."

The boy stepped back as if he'd been slapped in the face. He stared, her soul had been revealed to him and for the first time, he did not recognize her.

"You're only saying that push me away," He muttered, and even though he was right, she could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

"I don't see the point in fighting for what we had," She said feigning disinterest. "S'not worth it."

She wrapped her jacket tighter around her body and looked away. Cat knew she would never be able to look at him without feeling ashamed of this moment.

"I'll send you the keys to Pietro's apartment, I'll pick up his stuff later. Maybe Wanda will want some of them. Talk to the landlord about the new lease."

"Cat—"

"Don't look for me," She turned away and blinked back the tears. "I'm not your friend."

"You know, I wish there was a way that I could let her know... that we won. We did it."

"She knows," Wanda said. "They all know."

"You should try and write letters to Nat," Cat offered. "Even if she won't read them."

Wanda's voice sounded a little amused. "Pi told you that, didn't he?"

Cat smiled without looking at her. "He was a good brother."

It stung, talking about him and knowing they would never see him again. She didn't want to keep thinking of the whole situation, she wanted to forget, all of it.

"I'm glad he wasn't alone," Wanda confessed. "I hated you for a while, felt like you'd been the reason for our separation, but if I really think about it... it was me."

"I was scared, desperate to get what you'd had for years... if I hadn't been so selfish, you wouldn't have felt the need to run."

"We could've been a family," Wanda asked absently. "Nice pipe dream."

Clint patted their shoulders. "You're not so little anymore, are ya?"

Wanda had to look up in order to lock eyes with Cat. "I don't know about you, Copy, but I still have room to grow."

"Toddlers," Rocket approached the young mutants. "Got something for you."

He noticed their hesitant glances and scoffed.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You've been trying to kidnap us ever since we told you we're staying on Earth."

"I changed my mind," Rocket grumbled. "You'd be the worst Guardians now that the old group's back."

The mutants shared a look, they nodded in agreement.

"Probably."

"I mean, they're far more experienced, including that demigod dipshit—"

"No, that's all bullshit!" Rocket exclaimed. "I was trying reverse psychology, that always worked on you!"

"I'm sorry, Rat," She smiled. "Maybe you could try and hit me real hard on the head, see if that makes me forget the last year of my life?"

"Don't give him ideas," Kurt said disapprovingly.

"Ah, crap, I'll miss you two," Rocket rubbed his eyes roughly. "You're like my children... Groot, come say bye to the toddlers!"

"Having a raccoon as our father figure was definitely not on the list," She noted.

"Becoming an Avenger wasn't on mine for sure," Kurt sighed. "But I think I was pretty damn good anyway."

Young Groot fist-bumped the mutants. Rocket tried to stretch his farewell a bit more.

"Don't be strangers," He said. "Give your Captain a call every now and then, otherwise I'll go crazy surrounded by all of those idiots."

"You love those idiots, Rat."

"Love is a strong word," He groaned. "I tolerate them."

"Sure," Kurt opened his arms. "Group hug?"

They knelt so Rocket didn't have to jump, Cat wished they could stay that way forever, maybe then she'd never think of all the others they would never get to hold again.

"Have this," The raccoon handed her the blaster he'd been carrying around. "You're a sharpshooter, I'm sure you'll find a good use for it... and here," Rocket took off his scarf and wrapped it around Kurt's neck. "So you can hide your ugly face."

"You know... I tried. When I had the gauntlet, the stones, I really tried to bring her back... I miss her."

"We all do," Cat replied. "I gotta locate her sister, let her know what happened..."

"She'll be impossible to find, Cat. She's just like Natasha."

"Yeah well, guess who trained me?" She shrugged. "I have time. Too much, actually. But I'm lacking dough... Gotta love your twenties."

Steve smiled at her. "You know, it's not so bad that you're like Tony. We could use a new Stark."

"I could shift into him right now and make you pee your pants out of pure shock."

Sam let out a disgusted grunt. "And they say you grew up."

Steve grabbed the case and walked towards the platform. "You have to be friendly if you're going to work together, the Avengers care for one another."

"You know, if you want, I could come with you," Sam offered.

"You're a good man, Sam. This one's on me, though." The blond man moved to Bucky and smiled at him. "Don't do anything stupid 'til I get back."

Bucky chuckled. "How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you."

They hugged, and something about it felt final.

"Gonna miss you, buddy."

"It's gonna be okay, Buck."

Cat locked eyes with the Winter soldier, he walked up to her.

"Buttercup," He greeted.

"Captain Hook," She retorted.

"How longs is this gonna take?" Sam ignored them.

"For him as long as he needs. For us, five seconds."

"He's not coming back, is he?" She whispered.

"Don't know," Bucky replied.

"He can't stand it when others get the spotlight, huh?" Cat taunted. "Tony just died, the least he could do is pretend it was an accident."

"You have a rotten sense of humor."

"And yet people like me more than they like you," She remarked.

"They're idiots."

Steve fell into the tunnel and didn't come back on his mark. Banner tried to bring him but nothing was working. Sam got worried, Bucky turned around to leave, then stopped.

"Sam," He called.

The three of them approached the figure seated on a far bench.

"Go ahead," Bucky told them.

The others shared a look, they moved together.

"...Cap?"

"Hi, guys."

"You little shit," She crossed her arms.

"Did something go wrong, or did something go right?" Sam smiled.

"Well, after I put the stones back, I thought... maybe I'll try some of that life Tony and Cat were telling me to get."

"How'd that work for ya?"

"It was beautiful."

"Good. I'm happy for you. Truly."

"Thank you."

"Only thing bumming me out is the fact I have to live in a world without Captain America."

"Oh," Steve grabbed a package, his hands were thin and wrinkled. "That reminds me..."

He unwrapped a shield, one that had not been destroyed by Thanos.

"Try it on."

Sam looked back at Bucky and Bucky nodded encouragingly. He seized the shield and looked down at it with a frown.

"How does it feel?"

"Like is someone else's."

"It isn't."

Sam took a deep breath. "Thank you. I'll do my best."

"That's why it's yours."

He shook Steve's hand. The old man's attention fell on her.

"Why the long face, Heathen? I'm leaving you in good hands."

"I don't need 'em, I got my own."

"That's what I meant," He beamed. "Come here."

She sat beside him. Steve patter her knee, on his left hand he had a gold ring.

"I'm not sure you want to be on the team after all that's happened..."

She looked ahead, lost in thought. "I'd be angry at you if I didn't think saying goodbye feels liberating, to some extent. Without the Avengers, I won't be so pressured to live up to their standards. Who knows? Maybe this way I'll be better..."

"That's all we ever wanted for you," Steve nodded.

"Hey," Sam gestured at Steve's hand. "You're gonna tell us about her?"

"No," He grinned playfully. "No, I don't think I will."

"C'mon, Sam, don't be silly," Cat said matter-of-factly. "Her is a he, and he's standing right behind us! I always knew you guys would end up together, bit insulting that you didn't invite us to the wedding, though."

Steve laughed in a lighthearted way. "I guess he would've been alright, but I wouldn't want to steal your chance to shoot your shot. I heard you like that sort of older and grumpy fellow..."

"Oh God, I can't believe Pietro told you about that," She blushed.

"He loved talking about you, and we were always asking for updates," The old man squeezed her hand. "Whatever you do, Cat, remember you were loved. Remember your family."

They knocked on the door softly, once it opened Matthew welcomed them in.

"You could've said no, you know?"

"Right," He laughed dryly. "Refusing to help the heroes that brought everyone back— Who do you think I am?"

"The love of my life?" She teased. "Just tell us where to go, you're probably expecting friends and even if you're not, we shouldn't stay for too long..."

Matthew gave her a piece of paper. "Ask for Maggie, tell her I sent you."

"Who's Maggie?"

"My mother."

"You have a mother?" Her eyes widened.

"Mimi..."

"Right— sorry," She looked at Kurt and then back at Matt. "Thank you again."

"Keep in touch," He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "Take care, alright?"

"Yeah," Cat smiled a little. "You too."

Twenty minutes after they left the building, she heard Kurt giggling.

"What?" She snapped.

"He's handsome," He raised a brow, still smirking. "And blind. Do you like him cause he can't see your creepy eyes and your weird friends?"

"Trust me, Smurf, he sees us," Cat heaved a sigh. "And yet he's never told me whether he thinks I'm attractive or not."

"Don't be a sinner, Mimic. Can't you see we're in church?"

Cat looked up and found herself standing outside a temple. She looked at her friend with a frown.

"Are you sure you'll be fine here? I mean, you're not exactly a beacon of sanctity."

"Hey, they're the ones that can't discriminate against me, right?" He shrugged. "As long as it's secluded and away from prying eyes, I should be fine. Maybe they'll end up liking me?"

"Well, Matt said this is a discrete place," She tilted her head. "I trust his judgment."

"Or you're blinded by love," Kurt taunted.

"You know better than to think I'm in love," She rolled her eyes. "I've got a stupid crush, that's all. I'm a busy woman, and he thinks I'm too young."

"But what if he didn't?"

"Then we would get married right away," She replied sarcastically. "Ya done with the dumb questions? Wrap that scarf properly and let's head inside."

"Once I hide here," Kurt continued as they entered. "What are you going to do?"

"I'll get a cheap apartment, I'll patrol the city with Daredevil, make sure we stay away from Spider-man... I'll visit you as often as possible."

"Are you going to go back to hiding? Once you're an agent, I mean."

"What would be the use of a spotlight, anyway? You see what putting a target on your back does to the people around you. Most of my friends are dead or no longer my friends, but still, I think it's better if I quietly move away from the public eye."

Kurt walked across the church's hall with her, stopping in front of the altar. "I think it's good that we're choosing to remain anonymous, we're free."

"It's a nice way to put it."

Cat stared at the colorful windows, it would take a while before she could feel good about living.

Next Phase —>

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