#went through hell and back to mail a friend a bunch of stuff with like way too many sentimental items the other day TT

[crownquill]

it's becoming harder and harder to fight the accusations that gift giving is my love language

[thestarrynightslover]

I'll Make It Okay for You - Part 1

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader

Word count: 3,666

Warnings: Discussion, yelling, some angst, mentions of drugs, and drug abuse. 

Summary: What happens when (y/n) (y/l/n), Harvey’s secret crush and a junior partner at his firm, openly defies him in front of everyone?

You can find Part 2 here.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the show Suits, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: So, this is my first Harvey Specter fic and I’m obviously quite unsure about it, lol. This might’ve ended up like one big mess, cause I tried to combine a bunch of Harveys I wanted to see. The perfect recipe for disaster, right? Anyways, I hope it doesn’t suck too bad and, please, feel free to give me feedback, cause I’m also here to learn!!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

You’d barely stepped out of the elevator when you were met by your secretary that morning. That couldn’t mean anything good.

“Morning, (y/n/n). You’ve got an emergency meeting with Jessica today. Gonna give you the schedule on the way there.” Lucy stated, leading you on the opposite way to Jessica’s office.

“Oh, I got the memo; company’s under attack again. She wants me on the frontlines this time. Louis is probably running around saying ‘We’re at war, people, war!!!’, or something like that. But why aren’t we headed towards the boss’ office?”

“Apparently, uh, she wants y’all to convey at Harvey’s office.” She said hesitantly, as if afraid of your reaction.

“Are you kidding me? It’s the first hour of the morning and she wants me to go see that smug face of his?” You pouted childishly.

“Smug and hot, you mean.” Lucy corrected you, getting an outraged look from you in response, as she usually would by saying anything positive about Specter.

“Shush,” You said, motioning for her to stop talking, “ one shall not praise Harvey Annoying Specter around me.” You stated full of obstination, but the younger woman just laughed you off and said:

“Well, here we are. I guess I’ll just have to send you an e-mail with your schedule, since, once again, we spent our schedule minutes of the day talking about “the enemy”.” She mocked with gestures and everything this time. That Lucy really was a piece of work, she timed the whole thing perfectly, in a way that you couldn’t even repudiate her insinuations because you were already standing in front of Specter’s office door.

Not long after you had entered and Jessica had officially started the strategy-meeting, though, all eyes in the room turned to you, as your phone started ringing in your back pocket. "Shit! I'm- I'm so sorry, guys, I guess I-"

"Can you please take your job seriously for once in your life, (y/l/n)?" You heard Harvey Pain-In-The-Ass Specter rudely remark, as you tried to swallow your embarrassment.

“Well, like I was trying to say, I’m sorry. Gonna turn it off right now, won’t happen again.” You said, directing your apologetic look to Jessica.

“You should just go ahead and answer it, could be something important.” She calmly told you.

“Especially now that you’ve already interrupted our work.” Specter chipped in again, which just gave you more fuel to answer the goddamn phone.

“Hello, yeah this is her.” You confirmed to the man on the phone, while taking a few steps towards the corner of the room. “What??? Are you sure? Oh my God! O- okay, just tell me which one and I’ll be there as soon as possible! Right, thank you.” Everyone’s eyes were on you, trying to understand what made you look so distressed. Except his, of course.

“Wait a second. Are you leaving right now?” He asked with a mix of annoyance and irritation in his voice.

“Yes, I am. I’m sorry, Jessica, but this is a family emergency. I have to go.”

“Well, I just hope you know that this doesn’t look good for you, (y/n).” She said, voice inexpressive.

“I do and, honestly? I couldn’t care less about that right now.” You firmly told her, while hoping your career wasn’t over by the next morning.

“I hope everything goes well for you and your family, (y/n). If you need anything, and I mean anything, just let me know.” Louis told you with that childish smile of his. Jesus, even in a moment like this, he tried to flirt with you.

“Thank you, Louis. That’s very kind.” You faked a tiny smile.

“Unbelievable.” 

“What?” You asked, turning back to face Harvey.

“Your firm is under attack and you’re leaving because of some stupid family crap?” Was he even serious?

“Precisely. And I don’t really care what your thoughts are on it. Our priorities are clearly very different.” Who the hell did he think he was to say anything about your family’s issues?

“Well, that shouldn’t matter because, the minute you walk in here, through those elevators out there, you’re supposed to leave all things personal behind.”

“Oh, right. I’m so sorry that I’m not some heartless lawyer like you, who’s just in it for the petty fights in the name of money-making.” Shit. You needed to get the hell out of there before you said something else to make Specter wanna kick you out himself. So you did. Stormed out like there was no tomorrow, leaving nothing but the very shocked Donna, Jessica, Louis, Mike, and Rachel behind. Oh, yeah, and a very pissed-off Harvey Specter.

Okay, maybe you were a little too harsh, but given the place you needed to go, to do what you needed to do, you didn't care about Harvey, your job, or anything else.

---

It was much later on that same day, around dinner time, that you heard a soft knock on your door. But how could someone be at your door, if the doorman downstairs hadn't announced any visitors? Were you dreaming? Well, the day had been so tiring that that wasn't exactly impossible… Nonetheless, you made your way to the door, whilst holding your very needy three-year-old nephew in your arms. Not that you could blame Henry after the day he’d had.

Since you weren’t expecting anyone, it was reasonable to believe that, whoever it was, was going to be a surprise. But not in a million years would have you ever guessed that Harvey Specter was the one knocking at your door. Especially considering what had happened at the firm earlier. How did he even know your address?

“Hi, (y/l/n). I didn’t know you had a kid.” He stated with a bit of surprise of his own, pointing to the little boy you were carrying.

“No, uh, I don’t have any.” You managed to say, trying to control your shocked expression. “This is my nephew.” You clarified again, a little more at ease this time.

“My name’s Henry. What’s yours?” You heard your nephew ask with his cute child-voice.

“Harvey. It’s, uh, it’s very nice to meet you, Henry.” Harvey told the boy, holding out his hand for him to shake, as a sweet smile came to his lips.

“Is he your friend, auntie (y/n/n)?” Henry asked you hesitantly, before making a move. The Don’t Talk to Strangers Rule must’ve kicked in his mind. 

Before answering him, you hesitated a little bit yourself, though. Was Harvey your friend? Obviously not, but if he came to your apartment in the middle of the night like this, it was probably because of something important. Work-related, of course. Which meant you’d have to let him in, so you settled for what would be the easiest classification for a three-year-old.

“Yeah, bud, he is my friend from work.” Hearing that, something in Specter’s eyes changed, you didn’t really know what, though.

“Well, then, can he come play with us?” He gave you such a cute look, that you almost said yes right on cue. But you obviously couldn’t. 

“You’d have to ask him, but I’m sure he has a lot of other, more important, things to do now.” You tried to explain to the little boy, giving Harvey a look. But you didn’t get too far, as the lawyer quickly said:

“Of course I wanna go play with you! That is if your auntie’s okay with that…” Now he was mocking you, that was the only explanation.

“Can we play with him, then, auntie (y/n/n)? Please, please, please?” God, what horrible thing could’ve you possibly done to deserve this particular punishment?

“Um, I guess... If he really has nothing better to do-” Harvey didn’t even let you finish your sentence.

“I really don’t.” He said, shooting you and Henry a bright smile that you’d never seen before.

“Okay, then, come in. Please disregard the mess, I got this stuff to make dinner, but someone just won’t detach, right, mister?” You asked your nephew with fake annoyance in your voice, as you tickled his sides a little bit. He just laughed at you. Though what really caught your attention was the fact that Harvey, too, was chuckling lightly at the scene, as he started picking up your groceries’ bags from the floor. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you, what else?” You gave him a weird look because, well, it was a weird situation. Maybe he noticed your discomfort because he added: “You look tired, so I’ll help you by making dinner and putting the rest of these away.”

“You’re kidding, right?” There was no way in hell that the All-Mighty Harvey Specter was gonna get domestic for you, of all people. Since he didn’t bother to answer, you went on: “First of all, what was it that you really came here to do, hum? And, second, I don’t need your help with anything.” Normally you tried to be kind to everyone, but, then again, Specter wasn’t exactly your normal kind of guy.

“Well, first of all,” he started in a tone of mockery, “that was rude! Look at the example you’re setting for little Henry!” Oh God, as much as you hated to admit it, he was kinda right, because you had completely forgotten about the little boy still cradled in your arms. “Second, we can talk about the reason why I came here later,” after your nephew’s asleep, was implicit in his speech, “third, it looks like you do need some help. And, for your luck, I happen to be a very good cook when I want to.”

“But-” You could barely begin your sentence, as Harvey sharply cut you off:

“You see, buddy,” he started, motioning to Henry this time, “the quicker we get your auntie on board with the game plan, the quicker we’ll get to eat and go play together!” Son of a bitch! Using a child to get to you…

“Can we please, auntie? Please?” How could you not crack after that pleading?

“Fine, but I swear I’ll make you pay if we wake up with food poisoning tomorrow, Specter.” You told him playfully, trying to lighten the mood after all of your bluntness.

“Oh, trust me, (y/l/n), you won’t. This will be the best meal you and the young man here will ever have in your entire lives.” He said cockily, but without the usual arrogance level, if that even makes sense.

A few hours and a really great dinner later, you and Henry couldn’t help but snicker shamelessly at Harvey’s ridiculous faces, as the three of you played a game on your living room’s floor. Trying to catch your breath from your giggles, you glanced up at the clock and realized that it was way too late for your nephew to be out of bed like that. So you broke up the game, announcing:

“It’s bedtime for you, Mr. Henry.” You watched the faces of the pair turn into ones of pure disappointment, as they prepared to pout.

“Just a little longer, auntie (y/n/n)! please!” The little boy started.

“Yeah, auntie, just a little longer! Please?” This time it was the grown man, one of the toughest Wall Street lawyers.

“As moved as I am by your synchrony, guys, the answer is a big no. C’mon, bud, let’s go brush your teeth. And then straight to bed. So say bye to Harvey, and thank him for being so nice to us tonight.” He looked between you and Specter as if still hoping for a hail Mary of some sort.

“Bye, Harvey.” He sounded so sad, but then he smiled brightly again, as he repeated what you’d told him to say word by word: “And thank you for being so nice to us tonight.” Hearing that, both you and Harvey chuckled lightly at the young boy, who quickly added: “Will you come see us tomorrow too?”

“Uh, we’ll, uh, we’ll see about that, okay, little man?” He tried to let Henry down slowly but, watching the boy’s expression become a sad one instantly, he added: “It’s just because both your auntie and I have a lot of work ahead of us tomorrow, but I’ll do my best, okay?” That was definitely a side of Harvey you’d never seen before, he had even bent down to be on your nephew’s level.

“Okay.” Henry said quietly, seeming to be a little happier, too.

“Okay, then let’s just go upstairs already.” You took the boy’s hand to guide him towards the spare bedroom’s bathroom, all the while shooting Specter a look that told him to wait for you a little longer.

“I’ll wait for you down here.” He said, proving he understood what your eyes tried to transmit.

So you headed upstairs with your nephew and, after a good fifteen minutes of brushing Henry’s teeth, helping him into his PJs, and tucking him in, you finally managed to come back to the living room, where you found Harvey looking through some of your photos displayed on the sideboard. For a minute or two, you just watched him. It wasn’t that you liked what you saw or anything. It wasn’t. It was more like postponing the weird conversation you two were bound to have, because, after all that had happened in those few hours, the atmosphere was, at very least, a strange one. But, almost as if he’d felt your gaze on his back, the lawyer in him was switched on, and he interrupted your thoughts by saying:

“Ah, you’re back. Good, because we need to talk.” You just motioned for him to follow you into your home office. But both you and Harvey looked so informal to be in that kind of environment, that you just indicated the small couch on the wall opposite to your desk for you to take your seats in.

“So, uh, before you even say anything, I wanna thank you for being so kind tonight,” a small smile came to your lips, as you remembered, not only the evening but how your nephew had used almost those exact same words, already imitating you, a little earlier. Specter smiled too, you noticed. “and I also wanna apologize. If you came here to talk to me… I must’ve made you waste a lot of time, huh?” You tried with a half-smile this time, as embarrassment started taking over you.

“What? No, of course not! I'm pretty sure that I told you I didn't have anything better to do, didn't I?" He calmly asked with a smile.

"Yeah, but I'm not buying it. You're Harvey Specter, isn't that what you're always saying? And Harvey Specter always has something better to do, isn't that right?" You shot back in a mockery tone, regaining your confidence.

"Well, maybe. But, not today. So don't apologize, and don't thank me. I'm the one who should be thanking you, I had a really good time tonight." Okay, now you were shocked. He had a good time?

"Uh, okay, um, so... What was so urgent that you had to come here in the middle of the night?" You nervously ranted, while tugging your hair behind your ears. He just stared at you, so much so that you almost repeated your question.

"Um, yeah, about this morning… That's why I came here…" You were already guessing that that would come up eventually, but it was the topic of your conversation? "I know that you and I always had our differences, and maybe even some rivalry-"

"Some rivalry? Dude, I'm just a junior partner, and ever since I started on that firm you've been persecuting me-"

"I wouldn't say persecuting…"

"Oh, you wouldn't?"

"Not since you made junior partner anyways. Now it's just a healthy rivalry between work friends…" He tried to use what you’d told your nephew earlier. 

"Oh, so you do admit you were persecuting me when I was an associate, huh?"

"Shit." He muttered quietly, as you watched him with a victory smile on your lips. "You know what? Hell yeah, I did persecute you when you were an associate." Hearing that blunt admission of guilt, you just couldn't find anything to say. “You wanna know why? I did that because, from the first time I saw you doing your job, I saw this very thing that I see now: you kicking ass, you think I wanted to admit this to you? I’ll answer it myself: no, I didn’t. The only reason why it happened is that you led me to it.” He blurted out, completely knocking you off your socks.

“So, um, you treated, you treat me like shit because, um, because I’m good?” You asked, still unsure of what to think about his confession.

“Well, that was part of it, sure. So, you see, I could understand it when you weren’t particularly thrilled at the perspective of working with me. But, this morning, you said that I’m a heartless guy who only cares about money… Is that really what you think of me?” This time he sounded genuinely sad? When Harvey said that he’d come to your apartment to talk about that morning, you thought he was gonna reprimand the shit out of you for disrespecting him ⎯ your sort of boss, a senior partner ⎯, but, apparently, he was asking about it on a more personal level. A level you’d never really thought played a part in your relationship with him.

“Oh, Harvey…”

“Be honest, please. I don’t want your pity. You don’t even know me all that well, so don’t try to minimize anything. I can take it.”

“That’s not what I was gonna do. And, trust me, you’re probably the last person in the world I’d pity.” You told him with a sly smile. “You’re right. I don’t know you all that well. Or, at least, I didn’t this morning. But I do know that you’re not heartless. Also, I was really out of line then, I’ve seen you fighting tooth and nail for a lot more than just money in that firm. You’re loyal to your firm and friends like no one else and, tonight, I watched you sitting on the floor and playing with a little boy. And, trust me, that meant more to him than you’d ever know, especially after today… Anyways, what I’m really trying to say is that I was so damn wrong and that I’m sorry. I’d gotten some pretty nerve-racking news beforehand, not that that’s an excuse but...” You told him, meaning every word and trying hard to show how much you regretted your previous actions.

“Wait, what news?”

“Ah, it’s nothing for you to worry about, really.” You tried to brush him off.

“Oh, c’mon! You said all those nice things about me, but when it comes to your life and your problems you still don’t trust me, isn’t that right?” His tone was sharply inexpressive, but his eyes showed he was actually hurt.

“What are you talking about? Oh my God, Harvey! I’ve relied on you for a number of cases that I really cared about! I let you in on my apartment! I let you spend an entire night around my nephew! Of course, I trust you!”

“Then what the hell is the problem? You think I’m not gonna give a damn about your family issues? Is that it? Because I am literally begging you to tell me about them!”

“I don’t wanna tell you because I don’t want you, or anyone else on the firm, to think that I’m some pathetic little girl who uses her family issues as an excuse to get out of a tough fight.” You confessed in a lower tone, slightly embarrassed, just hoping he would understand and stop poking. “Things are very different when you’re a woman, you know…”

“I would never think that about you. Family is important. Especially if it’s made of people like Henry…” He said, reassuring you, even though there was a hint of sadness in his voice. “Besides, you said you trust me, so you need to trust me when I say that I wouldn’t betray you by telling people about your problems. I’m not here as your boss, (y/n). I just wanna help you.” He sounded so sincere and, if you were being honest with yourself, you kinda really needed to vent.

“Okay, um, where to start? I have two sisters: Henry’s mother, Kat, and a fifteen-year-old, Lisa. I’m the older one of all three of us. Lisa’s sick, like very sick, so my parents, who are both retired, are with her at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, to try and get her better. In the meantime, Kat was supposed to go to college, as well as care for her son, between my parents and me, she wouldn’t even need to provide for them or anything. But, a while ago, she overdosed for the first time. That’s when we found out about her addiction. We’ve already tried a million different things but nothing works. So, my parents and I threatened to make her lose her parental rights over Henry, hoping that it’d be a wake-up call for her, but it backfired. She just took the boy and disappeared, then today I get that call, from the police department, saying that she was in custody for drug distribution and endangering the well-fare of a minor. They asked me to go pick my nephew and, maybe, get Kat a lawyer.” And, just like that, you’d told Harvey Specter, of all people, everything. Tears rolling down your cheeks and him pulling you into a hug.

If anyone had told you that that was how your night was gonna go, you would have definitely laughed them out of the room. But now, just sitting there, being held and caressed by Harvey, as you let your armor down, it was finally beginning to look like things were gonna be okay. 

[wornoutmouse]

Im making this gender neutral cause I feel like I did pretty damn good here. And it had a bit of a fairytale ending but I couldn't figure how else to tie it up prettily

Also tried of tumbler adding gaps to all the paragraphs when i copy and paste from docs to here so y'all just gonna have to deal. this fic is way too damn long for me to fix it like i normally do

Also i went over the aparent limit so just look for the words "pt2" in green for the extension

Letting go is one of the hardest things one can do. But understanding why you had to let go is harder.

You and Izuku knew each other for the longest time. Hell you were the one that lifted him back up when Bakugou knocked him down. So why…. Why after all that were you not good enough?

He never said you weren't, he'd never do that. But the worthlessness you felt as you watched her hand him a love letter. You thought, he won't accept, afterall she's one of the many girls and guys that had confessed since the beginning of U.A. Hell you were surprised Ochaco even had the guts to confess.

But the small blush and smile that overcame his face as he finished reading the letter, was one you've never seen before. In that moment you wished you'd decline coming with him for support.

The sick feeling in your stomach grew larger as they hugged each other tightly. That sickness translated into a smile when he looked back at you.

From then on, your sunny disposition was a fabrication of what once was. You didn't hate her, you even saw the appeal, having the slightest crush on her as well. You just hated that he chose her. Was the years of companionship worthless?

As the two grew closer, you grew farther and buried yourself in training and school work. Days went by, months, and by the time graduation came, you were all 3rd years.  You and Deku had become nothing more than aquaintences.

The others tried to stop your descent into isolation, Including you in everything they did, ut it wasn't the same.

"Hey Y/n." You wiped your sweat with the towel around your neck. You'd been at it for most of the day and had shed most of your clothes. Izuku was dressed casual for once and looked gorgeous in the setting sun.

"Yes Midoriya?" Ouch. When did you start calling him that? You couldn't quite remember. Deku looked over the trees, green hair blowing with fall wind. "You know we haven't hung out in a while." You took a drink of water as you sat on a fallen log. "Oh really?" 

That came out harsher than needed and you both knew it. "Since we are graduating tomorrow, I was wondering if you would join us for once as a last farewell. 

You didn't miss the undertone in the last comment. Deku watched in silence as you put your tank top back on. "I don't think I can make it."

Izuku's fists clenched as he glared at the floor. "Why?" You eyed his fists,"I have other things to do." Deku scoffed, "Give me a break, school is over what more do you have to do?!" "More important stuff than partying."

There was a change in the air and at the last minute, you jumped back as Deku's foot slammed down in the floor causing a sizable crater. "Stop lying Y/N! What could you possibly have to do that's more important than hanging out with your friends?! Don't you understand that this is the last time we'll have this much free time to see each other!?"

A small smirk crawled onto your face. 'Still a crybaby huh?'  tears trailed down Deku's face as he looked at you, "We haven't talked in years y/n." You would not break, this was for the best, you would not fall back into this cycle. "We talked this morning." "Hello is not a conversation y/n"

"What do you want me to do then Izuku?" 

Nothing, just like you expected. "Listen Deku, Sometimes, people grow apart and..." You have to take a deep breath, cause if you don't you'd break all over again. "Sometimes we just have to accept it." 

Izuku says nothing more and leaves, heartheavy. During the party,  Izuku spent his time with Uraraka, both day-dreaming about their future, though Izuku wasn't as engaged as he usually was. You sat alone in the common room, looking down at the feastivities below. Mr. Aizawa was the only one who noticed.

As a pro hero you stayed in a moderate range in regards to popularity. About the same level that Mt. Lady and Kamui Woods used to be. 

Watching Bakugou and Midoriya's ranking teeter back and forth like hot potato was amusing as the fiery blond would call you to complain since he knew you would simply listen.

Your love life was non-existent besides the occasional fling with a cute chick at a bar or a himbo™ at the local gym. You weren't looking for anything sold anyways and that was not only due to your hero work, but because no one peaks your interests.

The gang of course flocked together in regards to their love lives. Kaminari and Jiro were finally a thing. Momo and Todoroki were dropping hints to each other but they are both a bunch of oblivious bimbos and that is not going to change anytime soon. 

Tsu and surprisingly Mineta prefered the bachelor life and worked hard on building their teams. You were greatly surprised when Mineta asked you to come to his house and genuinely asked your opinion on trainees. 

Unlike the rest, Mina, Kirishima and Bakugou, were trying to figure out the ins and outs of a poly relationship. Bakgou of course being the word if reason as the other two goofed around.

 All was in its place as you all conformed to your new adult lives. You had no faint clue where the other boys were besides Kouji's and Satou's engagement.

It was a Thursday evening when you walked into your condo, shuffling through your mail until a white envelope with gold trimming for your attention. 

You are invited….

Of course how could you forget Deku and Uraraka. When was the last time you saw those two? Most likely the last day of school. How the hell did they get your address?

You tossed the envelope on the couch and walked to your kitchen to get a bottle of wine. You spent that evening drinking the petty thoughts away, altering between cursing Ochako, to reminiscing on how they were truly a match made in heaven.

By 4 in the evening, you were beyond tipsy and could barely stand to answer the door when the bell rung. 

"Whatdoya want Midoriya?" You said, leaning a little too far to the left. Deku looked at you with concerned eyes. "Are you drunk y/n?" Your roll your eyes and turn around, walking back into your home. "What does it look like?" 

You slump on the couch as Deku walks throughout your home. He was alot bigger  than you remembered. His curly green hair was almost touching your ceiling as he looked at your disheveled body.

"I'm just here to make sure you got my invitation." You tug the envelope from where it fell between the cushion and wavs it in front of your face. Izuku acknowledged it as he sat down, "Well are you coming?"

You shrugged your shoulders as you reach for your glass. Izuku tried to take it away and you smack his hand. Even though you could taste the unresolved tension, you wanted to make things a bit lighter. "I don't know deku, what's the theme? If it's green then I can't come, you know that clashes with my complexion."

He doesn't laugh, not even a smile. Oh well not your problem. The bottle is empty much to your disappointment as you held the opening over your mouth. Deku sits there, fists on his knees as he makes a conflicted face. "How many bottles have you drunk?"

You slap his back, slightly impressed that his solid form didn't move. "Oh calm down worry wort!" A lazy grin comes over your face and a teasing tone slips into your voice. "I'm not an alcoholic...mmm, yet."

You both sat in silence, Deku swirling in his own emotions for  seeing you this way. You looked completely fine on the surface but he knew you better. They all knew you better. Bakugou's weekly gossip visits were nothing more than a check on your personal health.  Even Mineta had to pitch in.

"Hey Deku?" You looked off into thin air as you spoke but Izuku hung off your every word. 

"Can you kiss me?"

Deku didn't mean to stand up the way he did. You didn't react, you expected it if anything. "Y/n, you know I can't do that. Why would you even ask!?" You rubbed your eyes to rid yourself of the smallest threat of tears. You weren't an emotional drunk and you weren't going to start being one now.

"Mm just thought that if you did, maybe I could get over this fuzzy feeling in ma'chest." Deku blushed, from what you. didn't know, but you did notice how he sat back next to you, closer than before. "If I do…..will you come?"

I was going to come either way idiot

"I'll think about it."

Your lidded eyes picked up on the smallest movements and you shivered as Izuku held your chin between his fingers. The kiss was gentle and nothing more than a simple press. You would have been fine with that, that's all you wanted. What you weren't expecting was for Deku to continue.

You could feel your chest flair with the familiar discomfort of things being out of your control. His rough hands came home to your face as he deepened the kiss. You couldn't help but let out a small whimper as his tongue swiped against your bottom lip and he took that chance to delve deeper.

No

You pushed him away and stood. You both looked at each other, darkened eyes and veins fluttering with adrenaline. "Why?" you whispered, voice betraying you as it cracked. Izuku held his fist over his heart where you pushed him. "I..I did what you asked." You shook your head.

No, no this is wrong

Izuku stands up and tries to console you. The words that left his lips unrecognizable.

It's over isn't it?

"Y/n calm down please and let's talk." You put your hands over your ears. "You're so selfish." You wheezed. Why was the room getting darker?

It's over isn't it?

Strong hands grip your arms and you scrape them off. "Get out."

You won and he chose you

As a last resort, Deku tries to kiss you again, holding you close back your lower back, even daring to nibble your lips as he pulls away. "Y/n can you please focus!?" Why was he making it worse? You are not a home wrecker!!

And he loves you so he's gone

Izuku helplessly watched you fall into your own thoughts as you gripped the wall so hard your knuckles turned white. 

It's over isn't it?

You blindly stumble into your room and close the door, falling against it.

Why can't I move on?

Izuku tested his forehead against the door, trying to listen for any sign of life, even a heart beat. On the other side you fall into a dreamless sleep.

War and Glory

It rained on their wedding day. And in the worst way possible or made the ceremony even more beautiful as light drops of water tangled itself in Uraraka's veil. 

The pictures were to die for and so was the food. "Y/n come on, take a picture with me!" You sip some champagne and prepare yourself for your sin  free facade as you walk over to the new bride.

Her dress was gorgeous yet modest, one would confuse this gathering for a party since you were forced to wear white  with her and Deku despite you explaining  how weddings worked.

You kneeled to adjust to her height as she held the camera the highest she could. "You want me to do it?"  You took the phone and held it above you. Ochaco pouted as you dwarfed her and gripped her small hands on the front of your clothes.

She smelt of strawberry's and soap. 

Reinvention

Before you could pull away, she tugged your down as she came to whisper in your ear. "I know." She pulled away with the same small smile she wore since the day began. Your face mirrored one of fright and she quickly noticed.

She raised her hands in surrender as she tried to calm you down. "Hey what's that face for, it's fin-" you flinched as she reached out to touch you. Backing up, you ran into Deku who quickly held onto you to prevent you from falling.

You do your best to calmly untangle yourself from him, but subsequently jumping away as if you were on fire. The newly weds shared a look and you shivered as they both narrowed their eyes at you. Focused the same way they were when on a mission.

Fusion

Walking through the crowd of fans and distant family was no hard feat as you headed to the hotel the wedding was taking place behind. The two followed you and you tried your damnedest not to simply run.

You had almost made it out conservation free but Deku's hand quickly slapped on the side of the door before you could close it and he forced his way in as a limping Ochaco followed behind. "Come on Y/N, these heels are uncomfortable!" 

You could feel tears falling down your face as you backed away from the two. It wasn't out of fear, but shame. Shame that you had feelings for your friend. Shame that you kissed a taken and engaged man. Shame that his  wife knew.

"Y/n calm down it's fine, I don't mind!" You looked at her with confusion and bristled as Deku came closer. "I told her the day after it happened." You focus on Ochaco, preparing yourself for any physical attacks the small woman might deem necessary. "I'm sorry Ochaco, I-I didn't mean for it t-to happen."

Anger at the memory filled your brain and you almost didn't notice small hands taking hold of yours.

Her attention

"It's okay Y/N." Ochaco smiled warmly at you, bringing your hands to her lips as she kissed them gently. "I don't mind, infact this was the goal for a long time." You look at Deku for some coherent conversation, "What is she talking about."

Izuku blushed, "We've been trying to get your attention since highschool. We knew how you felt and didn't mind you joining us like Kachan, Kiri, and Mina." A steely gaze with the power of Aizawa's death glare, casted over Izuku's face, "But you kept running."

Ochaco waved her hands to divert the sudden hostile energy. "Anyways, we were planning on announcing it at the flower toss." Ochaco reached into her bussom and pulled out a small jewelry case. Inside it held a silver ring, strikingly similar to the one she now wore on her left hand.

"I know we really haven't got to get to know each other that well. And I know your feelings don't lie for me but, if you would like…" Deku gingerly plucked the ring from Uraraka's hands and the both lowered to their knees. (Ochaco with more effort as the fluff of her dress almost tipped her over)

Oop looks like i went over the limit?

[honey-dewey]

Finding the Right Voice

Frankie Morales/Mute and chronically ill Reader

Word Count: 1,804

Warnings: Reader is both mute and has gastroparesis. Reader throws up once. 

After much pestering from the boys, Frankie reluctantly signs up for a dating app, intending for it to be a joke. Until he falls in love. You and him text daily, getting to know each other so intimately despite never meeting. At least, never meeting until Frankie wants to take you on a date. So how the hell are you going to explain to him that you are constantly ill and will never speak again?

Frankie had always thought dating apps were a waste of time. Who the hell actually met the love of their life through the Internet? 

Frankie Morales, that’s who. 

Of course, he’d been hesitant to tell the boys he’d found someone, mostly because he knew they’d give him shit about it. And they did, of course. But now, months after meeting someone, they realized Frankie was genuinely happy and toned the teasing down. 

“I’m just worried!” Frankie said, staring at his phone. “They haven’t responded in days.” 

“Dude,” Benny said, gesturing with his beer bottle. “They’re probably just busy. Or out somewhere with shit cell service. I dated a girl like that. She went on vacation with her parents and didn’t call for like. Two weeks. Thought she’d died. But when she got back.” He leaned back, smiling drunkenly. “The apology sex was mind blowing.” 

“Okay!” Santiago interjected, throwing an arm around Frankie’s shoulders. “You think they’re on vacay, Fish?” 

Frankie shrugged, grabbing his own beer. “I dunno. They aren’t the vacationing type.” 

William snorted from across the table. “Just like they aren’t the phone call or meet in person type?” 

Immediately, Frankie knew where this was going. “Ironhead.” 

“I’m just saying!” William pointed out. “How do we know that Catfish isn’t being, well, catfished.” 

Frankie sighed into his bottle. “I don’t wanna talk about it Will.” 

Santiago, who was somehow the voice of reason here, nudged Frankie. “You texted yet today?” 

“No.” 

“Why don’t you?” Santiago suggested. “Then leave it alone for a while. I doubt they’re meaning to leave you, they seem too nice.” 

Frankie picked up his phone and opened his texts. Aside from the group chat he had with the boys, the aforementioned number was the last one he’d texted. 

Frankie: Hey, haven’t heard from you in a bit. You doing okay? 

Twenty miles away from the bar Frankie was in, you were leaned over the toilet in the hospital, hurling away what little applesauce you’d eaten for dinner. 

Sitting back against the cold tile of the hospital bathroom wall, you sighed deeply upon hearing your phone ping. Who the hell wanted to talk to you right now? 

Of course, it was Frankie. 

Settling down in the bathroom, you unlocked your phone and texted him back. 

You: I’m so sorry Fish. I’ve been a bit sick. 

Fish: You don’t have to apologize for that. Are you feeling any better? 

You snorted softly. As if. 

You: Not really. It’s just gotten worse. Spent most of today throwing up.

Fish: You’re drinking water, right? Gotta stay hydrated. 

You snapped a photo of your half full water bottle a nurse had brought you and sent it to Frankie. 

You: Yep! Gotta finish this before I go to bed. 

Fish: That’s good

Fish: Wait a second. Are you in the hospital? 

You swore silently. How the fuck? Unless he frequented the same hospital as you, how the hell did he even know where you were from that blurry water bottle photo? 

You: Yeah, I got here today. Nothing too serious, I was just too dehydrated

You felt bad lying to Frankie, but you really didn’t want to tell him the truth. The truth was too long, too complicated. Frankie would probably leave if he learned the truth. 

Fish: I’m not too far away, if you’re at the hospital I think you’re at. Want me to drive you home when you leave? 

You: Nah. I’m staying with family rn and it’s a haul to get out there

Another lie, another stab of pain through your heart. 

Fish: Okay. I still wanna take you out though. We could get dinner and walk around the park. 

You almost started sobbing. 

You: Oh Frankie. I wish I could. 

As soon as you typed the message, you deleted it. Best not to let him think anything was wrong. Instead, you took a minute and finally replied with, 

You: That sounds lovely Fish. 

Fish: But?

You: But I don’t think I can.

Back at the bar, Frankie was slumped over the table, staring at your tiny message of rejection. 

“Dude, that’s hard,” Benny commented. “I’m starting to think Will might be right.” 

“I’m sorry?” William said, coughing as he swallowed wrong. “Say that again?” 

“No.” Benny leaned over the table and patted Frankie’s wrist. “I got nothing dude. Nothing.” 

Santiago sighed. “Why don’t we stop giving Fish a hard time?” He said, seeing the hard lines in Frankie’s face appear. “They said they were in the hospital, so maybe it’s really bad.” 

“You think?” Frankie asked, looking up with wide eyes. 

“Maybe,” Santiago said. “They might not want you to worry about them.” 

Frankie looked back at his phone, at the waiting message. He picked his phone up and typed one more message before shutting it off and pocketing it. 

Frankie: I just wish I could get to know you. For real. 

You stared at your phone, tears sliding down your face. Frankie would never know, if you could help it. He’d never know that you were so sick all the time. That you couldn’t eat anything without hurling it up hours later. That you hadn’t uttered a single word since you’d turned sixteen. That you’d never speak another word again. 

Putting your phone away, you abandoned the water bottle and shakily crawled back into bed, sobbing silently into your pillow until you fell asleep. 

The next morning, a team of nurses checked you over and deemed you okay to leave the next day. You nodded numbly, absently fiddling with a small stuffed toy as they started your laborious morning routine. 

“This came for you last night,” a nurse said as everyone left your room. She placed a worn out baseball cap and a folded note on your bed. “From a very nice gentleman who seemed rather heartbroken.” 

The nurse left, leaving you to grab the cap and the note. 

The cap was worn out, the edges all frayed and the logo on the front nearly illegible. The note was in much better condition. 

Hey. 

So, I’m sorry about what I said last night, and I feel like a text wouldn’t have made it better. This is my favorite hat. It’s seen some shit, just like me. And just like you, I think. 

Look, last night, I sounded like a dick. I want to make it up to you, I really do. But I don’t know how to take you on a date or anything. I sure hope it isn’t because of me that you don’t want to meet. I know my nickname is Catfish but I promise I’m who I say I am. 

Tomorrow, I get off work early. If you’d let me, can I pick you up and take you out? Or at least take you back to my place for a movie or something? Please. 

Love, your Frankie. 

You ran your fingers over the lettering, memorizing how Frankie wrote every single word. Maybe, maybe it was time to open up. The worst that could happen was rejection. 

Scooping your phone up, you texted Frankie back. 

You: Tomorrow at 4, that’s when they discharge me. Get here early tho, I have some stuff to explain.

The next twenty four hours were hell for the both of you. You were both plagued by so much anxiety it was hard to do even the most basic of tasks, but you managed. Eventually, you received the text you’d been dreading all day. 

Fish: I’m here. Visiting room B. 

You took a deep breath. All your personal belongings were in a drawstring bag you put over your shoulder. You headed out of your room and slowly down the hall, towards the visiting room. 

Opening the door was the hardest thing you’d ever done. 

Once you’d opened the door, you stopped in the doorway, taking Frankie in. 

He looked exactly the same as he did in his photos. Tall, handsome, kind. He smiled upon seeing you, and you swore your heart stopped. 

“Hello,” Frankie said, moving towards you and holding out his hand.

Hello you signed, waiting for Frankie’s reaction. 

He paused, his hand falling to his side. “Mute?” 

You nodded. 

Frankie simply smiled again. “So that’s why you don’t like phone calls,” he said. “It’s okay. I know some ASL.” He paused, taking you in. “Can I hug you?” 

Yes please.

He wrapped you in a warm hug, allowing you to collapse into him. Months of text messages and listening to his voice mails were nothing compared to this. 

Eventually, he pulled away, and you two sat on the uncomfortable couch. 

“So what’s with the tube?” Frankie asked, gesturing to your face. 

You pulled a whiteboard out of your bag and began to write, going slowly so you spelled everything right. 

I have a condition called gastroparesis. My stomach is paralyzed and won’t move food to my intestines. I “eat” through a port in my side and this tube in my nose leads to my stomach, so whatever I drink can be drained out. I went mute before I got diagnosed with this.

“Oh.” Frankie blinked a few times. “So I guess dinner is off the table too.” 

You snorted, laughing as best you could with no voice. No dinner. you signed happily. But a movie would be nice.

“A movie it is,” Frankie said, standing. “C’mon. I’ve got a bunch of movies at my place. And I think the boys are coming over tonight.” 

You stood, following Frankie to his beat up old truck. He talked your ear off about all sorts of things while he drove home, and it wasn’t until he’d pulled into the driveway that you’d remembered his hat. 

Close your eyes. You signed, digging around in your bag. 

Frankie did, laughing when you snuggly placed his hat on his head. 

“Thank you,” he said, taking your hands. “I was really worried you’d catfished me at first. I didn’t know what to think when you didn’t want to call or meet. I dunno, I just thought you weren’t, y’know, you.” 

You shook your head, pulling your hands out of his. I wouldn’t dream of it.

Frankie smiled. “I love you.” 

I love you too Fish.

That night was the happiest you’d been in years. Frankie’s friends were all amazing people, and all three of them immediately overlooked your muteness and illness. You were happy and Frankie was happy. To them, that was all that mattered. 

“So Fish,” Santiago said, leaning across the couch to nudge Frankie’s bicep. “Aren’t you glad we forced you to download that dating app?” 

Frankie looked at you, curled up under his other arm, sipping water and waiting for the feed bag with your dinner in it to finish draining into your port. You looked up at him, smiling and nestling closer. 

“Yeah. I am.”

[deniigi]

i have been sick in bed with a stomach bug and re-reading a bunch of your series and these questions have plagued me so pls, for the sake of your fellow samuel chung lover, if sammy was in the Selkie verse, would he be a fae? if so, what kind? ALSO, what would his interactions with jack be like (either in the selkie verse or in the lying by omission verse)? pls and thanks <3

hi!

I’ll answer asks in a bit, but for this one I have a fic that explore a What If Jack Lived/Mike existed scenario with Sam in the Inimitable verse? I know it’s now what you asked for, but it is like 4k already written so that might be smth--an LBO Sam would be tricky because Sam would be itty bitty and Matt wouldn’t have the same kind of relationship with him.

As for selkie-verse Sam? I would have to do more research on Chinese spirts/fae/folklore, but for now, he’s not fae, just human 💖He’s like 12 and can make himself invisible though, which would be very confusing for Sue if she ever bumped into him

(Sue: baby boggart??? come here I love you I will look after you.)

(Sam: please stay exactly 5037 feet away from me! Thank you and I’m calling my mom!)

Here is the What If Jack and Mike thing from the Inimitable Verse.

Jack Murdock was the size of a house. He made Matt look dainty. He made Kirsten look like a kids’ mannequin. And he made Foggy laugh until he wept.

Sam could not understand a goddamn thing he said. Nor could he understand the guy he’d brought with him, who appeared to have had some serious plastic surgery to look exactly like Matt.

Sam could take an unintelligible giant. What he couldn’t take was an unintelligible Matt, and before him, somehow, in this ring of ginger, he’d been presented with two unintellible Matts.

His head was spinning.

Kirsten patted at him sympathetically.

“I’m from New York,” Sam told her mournfully.

“I know, hon.”

“How is this even possible? You’re from New York. How are they—what are they saying?”

Kirsten shook her head.

“Only Foggy knows,” she said. “It’s okay, he’ll translate when he gets back up.”

 --

 Mr. Murdock, the tallest of the gingers, might have been a good three to four inches taller than his boys, and he might have had the biggest hands that Sam had ever had the opportunity to touch in his life, but he was really nothing but a big, shaggy sheep dog.

The reasons Sam couldn’t understand a single fucking word he said came threefold.

1) Mr. Murdock had grown up in mid-century Hell’s Kitchen. That was just how accents from those parts used to sound. They’d lightened with time.

2) He had an extra layer of what Matt called a ‘brogue.’ He was first-generation American. Both his folks had immigrated from Ireland. He talked halfway between the way they talked and the way that the kids in his neighborhood growing up had.

And 3) The man had a lisp?

It wasn’t super noticeable. Sam sure as shit couldn’t hear it among the other layers of stuff going on, but Foggy said it was there.

Apparently, it came out more when he was anxious.

Apparently, he was anxious a lot.

Foggy told Sam to just give it an hour and he’d understand.

 --

  “So your name is Sam?” Mr. Murdock asked him while Sam tried to keep his mouth from falling open.

Matt was holding his facial-copy-cat against the wall by his lapels. The copy-cat had started making kissy noises at him. He egged Matt on to punch him right in the face.  

No one was stopping them.  

Kirsten cleared her throat and brought Sam back down to earth.

“Yeah,” he said. “Sam. Mr., uh—”

“Call me Jack.”

Never.

“Matty hasn’t said much about you, sorry to say.” Mr. Murdock explained. The more he spoke directly to Sam, the more Sam found, to his relief, that he could understand him. “He don’t like sharin’ things his brother can get ahold of and take from ‘im.”

Sam looked from him to the ‘brother.’

“There’s two of them?” he asked.

Mr. Murdock hummed.

“God help us, every one,” he huffed.

You can say that again.

“How long has there been two?” Sam asked hesitantly.

“Mm? Oh, uh. Christ with the math,” Mr. Murdock said, “Michael—Michael—boy, you knock that off; that’s how you lose teeth—how old are you now?”

Nevermind. Sam didn’t need to know.

“I’m ageless, Pops, remember?” ‘Michael’ said, grinning at Matt’s sneer in his face, “Everlasting, never dying. Immortal. Timeless. I’m—” Dude got the wind knocked out his sails from Matt aiming for his solar plexus instead of his face.

“Maitiú,” Mr. Murdock said sharply. “He’s your brother.”

“He earned it,” Matt snapped back at his dad. “You said ‘no teeth,’ I ain’t even touched his goddamn teeth.”

“No, you coward, you wouldn’t, would you?” Michael threw back at Matt with no sense in his head. “You scared of gettin’ stuck on all that metal, huh?”

“I ain’t got my tetanus booster,” Matt deadpanned.

“Oh, get the yellow fever one next time, it’s a hoot—”

“I’m mailing you back to Thailand in a crate.”

“Oh mail me, why don’t you?”

“I’m gonna.”

“Boys,” Mr. Murdock said, exasperated. “Knock it off. You love each other. We get it.”

Kirsten shook with giggles.

“I’d drown you in the open ocean and then kill myself,” Matt said through gritted teeth. His nose was maybe an inch from his brother’s.

Michael just beamed.

“Aw, babe. You’d do that for me?” he gushed.

“HHhhh—”

“Maitiú.”

Sam had never heard someone said ‘Matthew’ this way. It was delightful. It made Matt’s shoulders go stiff as a board and then squirm in barely contained fury.

“Thank you,” Mr. Murdock said. “Drop ‘im.”

Matt didn’t want to, but he released his grip on his sibling. Michael slipped down and then caught himself and straightened himself out.

“Well, I’ll never,” he said. “We come all this way to visit you on your deathbed and—”

“I’m not dying,” Matt said.

“—you worry Dad sick for months on end. Don’t call. Don’t write. He thought the Californians had eaten you—"

“—I told him that it was a dislocation and I’m fine—”

“—and of course I told him, ‘no Dad, there ain’t any more cannibals in California than there are in New York’ but who listens to Mike, huh?”

Mr. Murdock had only been in the house for 15 minutes and he already looked exhausted.

“Where are the dogs?” he asked Foggy.

 ---

 This was the weirdest time-out session Sam had ever experienced and he’d decided that he was living for it. Mr. Murdock went out onto the deck and locked himself out there with the dogs. Matt and his brother had never been more guilty.

Quickly the arguing turned towards scheming, which turned towards climbing out a window, which turned towards getting stuck on the roof and pleading with the Father to lend a hand.

Mr. Murdock observed Matt sobbing with laughter over Mike’s sudden anxiety of stepping from the roof to the deck’s arm railing with only hollowness.

“Mike’s not very super,” Sam pointed out to Kirsten.

“Nope,” she said brightly. “He is refreshingly normal,” she said. “Even the conman part.”

The what?

 ---

 Matt climbed off the roof with ease and took the opportunity to finally give his old man a hug, which Mr. Murdock seemed to appreciate. He smoothed a giant mitt of a hand through Matt’s hair tenderly, like he was a baby.

It was kind of cute.

Mike scowled at them both and announced that he was pretty fine, by the way. He’d just stay there on the roof until the vultures got him.

“Matt’s the younger twin,” Foggy told Sam cheerfully. “He can do no wrong.”

Sam felt like he could suddenly see the forest for the trees.

“And Mike?” he asked.

Foggy snickered.

“He and Jack live together to keep each other in good cardiac shape,” he said. “They drive each other nuts.”

“But they still live together?” Sam clarified.

“Yeah,” Foggy said. “Mike’s what happens when you give a used-car salesman ever so slightly too much brain. He travels all over. Gets shot at and held hostage a lot. He’ll do just about anything for a couple bucks, no matter how hard Jack’s tried to get him to go straight over the years.”

“And Mr. Murdock? He doesn’t mind his son living with him?” Sam asked.

Kirsten and Foggy softened.

“Matt used to check on him more when we lived back home,” Foggy said. “Without him and Mike, Jack’s by himself. He’s got friends and work, yeah, but you know. If it weren’t for Mike, he’d come home to an empty apartment every night. Man’s got too much head trauma for that to be any kind of good. Mike looks after him—probably more than he lets anyone else. He’s too stubborn to let Matt try to help him.”

Aw, cute.

“Be prepared, Sammy,” Foggy said. “Jack’s already adopted you.”

Say what now?

 ---

 Mr. Murdock didn’t outright say that Sam was puny and he was going to fix it, but Sam could see it in his disappointed gaze.

“Don’t like bread?” he asked as Sam chewed his way through an Uncrustable at the kitchen table. Sam froze with the sandwich in hand. He stared at it.

It was bread.

Surely, this was bread.

Right?

“Uh?” he tried.

“Don’t like the crusts?” Mr. Murdock asked him more gently.

Oh.

“I don’t mind them, these are premade though. You know, convenient,” Sam explained.

He got a stare impossible to read.

“Stay there,” Mr. Murdock decided.

It took too long for Sam’s brain to work out what had just happened, and by the time it had, it was too late. Matt stuck his head in the room and asked Sam why he’d told his dad that Matt was starving him.

Sam floundered and tried to explain the sandwiches. Matt absorbed this and rolled his whole head.

“Well, now he’s makin’ a week’s worth for you,” he sighed. “Wants you to eat the crust.”

Dude.

“It’s easier not to question it,” Matt sighed. “What kind of jelly do you want?”

 ---

 Matt didn’t interrogate his father, but Mike did. Unrepentantly. He walked in as Sam was emphasizing that he didn’t want any kind of jelly and he’d make his own sandwiches and understood the entire situation faster than Sam could have possibly explained it.

“FATHER,” he roared. “Leave the boy alone, he’s not starvin’, he’s just short.”

Flattering. Thanks, asshole.

There was no response from the kitchen. Matt told Mike to ease off. Mr. Murdock was trying to be nice.

“There’s nice and then there’s rude,” Mike said.

“And you’re rude?” Matt offered.

There was a pause.

A warm hand found the space in between Sam’s shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry about both of ‘em, kid, they got rocks for brains, it ain’t their fault. Our grandfather was a caveman, you know how it is,” Mike said kindly.

Matt was not amused.

“It’s not a big deal,” he repeated. “I’ll eat ‘em if Sam doesn’t want ‘em.”

“And subject yourself to peanut butter hell for multiple days in a row, Maitiú?” Mike asked, scandalized.

Matt glared in the direction of the stairs.

“Some of us enjoy nut protein,” he said.

Sam blinked in shock as big hands slapped themselves over his ears.

“There are children present,” Mike hissed.

Sam found the guy’s middle fingers and yanked. Mike swore. Matt chuckled.

“He ain’t a baby,” he said fondly. “Sam’s a tough cookie.”

You’re damn right he was.

“Charming,” Mike grumbled as Matt abandoned them for the kitchen again. He scowled down at Sam. “What’s your gimmick then?” he asked.

Sam wondered if he could make his contacts come out by blinking slowly enough. It would be cool as fuck. It definitely wasn’t happening.

“I control typhoons,” he said.

Mike winced.

“Fuckin’ vigilantes,” he said.

 ---

 Mr. Murdock gave Sam a second sandwich. He’d cut it into quarters.

“Matt says you don’t like jelly,” he said. “Bananas are better?”

Sam couldn’t help but like him.

“Yeah. I don’t eat much bread generally,” he said. “My family has always been more about rice.”

Mr. Murdock analyzed him.

“I can do rice,” he said.

Bless. It was okay, really.

“Do you like spicy things, Mr. Murdock?” Sam asked.

“Jack.”

Nice try.

“Spicy?” Sam repeated.

Mr. Murdock considered it.

“Not sure,” he said. “You mean like hot sauce? I ain’t fuck with that ghost pepper shit.”

Sam hummed.

“Before you leave, I’ll cook for you in return,” he said. “I won’t make it too spicy, cross my heart.”

Mr. Murdock considered this and then got a look in his eye that made Sam’s cheeks start to ache a little.

 ---

 Matt told Sam to play nice. Matt told his father to play nice.

There was to be no hiding chilis in Mike’s pasta.

They were caught and scolded.

“Not to worry,” Mr. Murdock told Sam fondly, “There are other ways.”

 ---

 Sam had never seen such outrage over a knot in a shoelace. Matt crossed his arms over his chest, seconds away from tapping his own foot.

“You said you were ready,” he reminded Mike for the fourth time.

“I know what I said,” Mike snapped at him. He’d dug through all the kitchen drawers to procure a metal skewer to apply to this situation.

“We’re going to be late,” Matt said. “I wait for my guide, she doesn’t wait for me.”

“Well she’s waitin’ today,” Mike said. “I swear to god—”

Mr. Murdock stroked the top of Tuesday’s head and asked Mike if he’d tried putting baby powder on it. Mike spat at him to mind his own business and went back to the knot. He managed it get it untangled and the shoe half on just in time to find the second one stuck in the third hole down.

He just about vibrated with fury.

Matt sighed loudly.

“Borrow mine already,” he said.

“Never.”

“Mike.”

“They’re blue. This outfit tolerates only warm colors, Matthew. ONLY warms.”

“We’re late.”

“Style waits for no man.”

“Well, clearly that ain’t the case, is it?”

Mike stood up sharply.

“I’m going to change,” he said. “And whatever elf tied these will rue the day. Mark my words.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll tell the elf—oh, my bad, the clown, Mike. It’s you. Get your life together. We’re late.”

Hilarious.

 ---

  “Why don’t you move out here?” Sam asked Mr. Murdock as he watched Sam sand away at his latest secret project in Matt’s absence.

“Sun’ll kill me,” Mr. Murdock deadpanned.

“I thought so too, but it’s not so bad,” Sam said. “I miss the snow sometimes.”

Mr. Murdock cocked his head and then knelt down to take the sanding block out of Sam’s hands. He gestured for Sam to give him the hunk of wood in his hands, too.

“Matty says you don’t got papers,” he said.

Sam was surprised. Matt usually kept that secret locked tight. But Mr. Murdock didn’t seem to have any adverse reaction to it.

“No,” Sam admitted. “My mom brought me here when I was really little. I didn’t know what it meant to overstay a visa.”

Mr. Murdock hummed.

“Makes flying tricky,” he said.

Yeah.

“Bus, not too bad, though?”

Mm. Bus was better, yes.

“Train?”

Depended on the train.

“Hm. Well, if you get homesick or need busfare, you just give a shout, ya hear? You’re always welcome to stay with us.”

Aww.

“Or if you really hate yourself, I’m sure Mike would love to come pick you up.”

Oh god.

“He can drive?” Sam asked.

Mr. Murdock paused and held his face in his dusty palm.

“The day he got his license was the worst day of my life,” he said.

Sam snickered.

“Did you guys drive all the way here?” he asked.

“No, thank god.”

“Can you drive?”

“Son.”

Sam looked up from the block of wood into Mr. Murdock’s hazel eyes.

“I take two steps out of New York and I’m gone, that’s me dead. No, I don’t drive. Why the hell would I drive? Where the hell am I goin’?”

Wow, mood.

“I tried to drive once,” Sam said. “Reversed into a fire hydrant. Matt laughed so hard he cried.”

Mr. Murdock handed back the woodblock. It was much smoother than it had been. Sam was chocking that up to the muscles and the practice.

 ---

 Matt and Mike got home and Mike announced that he was disowning that ‘putrid being’ that was the Swamp Monster beside him. Matt told Mr. Murdock that Mike didn’t approve of the swimming part of triathlon.

Mr. Murdock picked leaves out of his hair with supreme patience.

 ---

 “So Dad’s officially decided that you’re his grandson,” Mike informed Sam out of nowhere that Sunday. “He prayed for you at church today.”

Sam almost dropped his wrench. That was so endearing his teeth hurt.

“It’s ‘cause I do woodwork,” he said. “He can smell the handyman on me.”

Mike cocked his head to the side. His eyes were blue like Matt’s. Their mom must have had blue eyes—or maybe hazel like Mr. Murdock’s.

“No,” Mike said. “It’s ‘cause he’s also been a grocery bagger, a janitor, and a contractor.”

He what now?

“He wants to know why you aren’t in college.”

Oh. well—

“Matt tried to explain, but you know, it ain’t clickin’. He don’t get the politics part of things sometimes. Gets confused why people make such a big deal when there’s obvious solutions in front of ‘em. It’s not all his fault, he barely got a highschool diploma back when ‘critical thinking’ wasn’t even a testing category. Anyways, he wants you to go to college. Thinks you’re too smart to be pushin’ paper.”

Sam was going to cry.

“I think he sees a lot of Matt in you,” Mike said with a squint. “So just as a warning, he’s unbearable. Always—well, no. More like 95% of the year. He’s alright around New Years when he’s tired. You can tell him to fuck off at any time, though.”

No, no. It was okay. It was nice to have…more family. That’s what it was.

“I hope you know what this means, Samuel,” Mike said.

Mmm no?

Mike’s hand clasped his shoulder.

“You can call me ‘uncle,’” he said.

Ah.

No, thanks.

 ---

 Foggy and Kirsten couldn’t look at Sam without bursting into merciless laughter, which Sam had realized was a result of Mike’s vocal distress at his rejected offer of uncle-dom. Sam didn’t know what to tell him.

Mr. Murdock was nice. Enormous, yes, but very well meaning and gentle. His and Sam’s priorities and experience in life aligned neatly and Sam was slightly charmed by the way that he expressed himself verbally only to Matt and Mike.

Sam also didn’t hate Mike. He just didn’t want him to have uncle privileges. He didn’t see what was difficult about this.

“Mike’s got a history of rejection,” Foggy said. “And by that, I mean that every woman on the eastern seaboard has rejected him and he tries anyways.”

 ---

 Matt came downstairs and told Sam to ignore everything Mike said to him all day. He also said that they were going out that night, so don’t burn fingers on the soldering iron.

Sam saluted in acknowledgement.

Forty minutes later there was a rap at his door followed by Mike saying through it that he wanted to show Sam something.

Sam did not open the door.

He heard Matt’s name being cursed on the other side.

 ---

 Twenty minutes later there was another knock, this time with Mike saying that Mr. Murdock wanted to bond with Sam.

Sam nudged open his curtains and squinted hard into the backyard where he could see the vague shape of Matt chatting to his dad on the deck stairs, both apparently having a beer and shooting the shit.

This was a scam.

Sam would not be scammed.

He went back to the suit.

There was more cursing outside the door.

 ---

 About half an hour later, there was a knock, followed by Mr. Murdock’s voice this time, asking Sam if his shoes were supposed to be on the front porch.

They were not.

This was playing dirty.

Sam ventured out to go right this wrong and ended up outside on the front porch with the conman himself. Mike closed the door after him triumphantly and proceeded to get them both locked out.

“Are you supposed to be a good conman or?” Sam asked.

Mike gaped at him.

“The best conman,” he said. “Don’t worry, kid, I’ve broken into a thousand houses and won two horses. I’ve got this.”

That was not comforting. Sam was not comforted.

“First, we gotta test all the windows, and, failing that, we get a rock or a gun,” Mike told him with a knowing finger.

Sam blinked at it and then up at Mike. The man’s shoulders twitched.

“Uh?” Mike said.

Ah. The eyes. No contacts today.

“Do you like them? They’re Prada,” Sam said to absolute silence.

“A brick,” Mike announced abruptly. “A brick works too. Like a rock but bigger.”

Okay, so they weren’t talking about it, gotcha. Look, a whole family’s worth of repression styles. Sam was glad that they had a full set of methods.

 ---

 Sam broke into his own bedroom through the window. Mike clapped for him outside. Sam opted to leave him there.

 ---

 He was sort of sad to see the Murdocks go, especially after seeing the effect that the most senior of them had on Matt.

Sam hadn’t seen him this chilled out. He visibly relaxed under his dad’s hand on the back of his neck. He tolerated the fussing and constant hair fixing and the fingers brushing at his cheeks and elbows. Mr. Murdock guided him with the same practiced ease that Foggy and Kirsten did, but his guiding was accompanied by a quiet, ongoing commentary about the street around them, which Sam hadn’t actually heard Foggy do in the same kind of way.

It was like Mr. Murdock was telling Matt a story everywhere they went.

He told him when there were flags hanging up a story above, waving in the wind. He told him about the hanging wire baskets of flowers that Sam forgot about. He huffed a bit while he talked about lines of traffic in the street and a vast lack of color in the group due to the absence of so many yellow cabs.

Mr. Murdock of course, had been Matt’s first ever guide. It only made sense that he had a specialized style of it, just for Matt.

And for Matt’s sake, Sam didn’t want him to go, but alas, New Yorkers, man. The city called them back to the coast like a siren.

“You take it easy, y’hear, kiddo?” Mr. Murdock told him at the airport.

Sam smiled and said that he’d try.

“Take care of yourself. I mean that. Out at night too.”

Copy that, big guy.

“Give us a hug.”

Oh??? A hug??? Sam loved hugs. Hugs were great. He was—er. Leaving this one with double the ribs from the cracks apparently.

Mr. Murdock released him to go break Matt in half and then Foggy and then Kirsten. Mike told him that he couldn’t avoid flying again by hugging people. He also warned Kirsten that he’d see her soon and that then, she was sure to fall for his charms.

Kirsten said that she would be waiting with bated breath, and then that was it. Three Murdocks again whittled down to one.

“God, I should have married your dad,” Foggy moaned.

Matt laughed at him.

“He’s plenty busy avoiding the gaze of every person over sixty in his building. Let him live,”  he said. “Sam? Not too traumatized, I hope?”

Mm. Not so bad.

“Are you sure Mike’s your brother?” he asked.

“Unfortunately.”

Too bad.

“It’s fine, if we ever need a guy to distract the police, we’ve got him on retainer.”

That was true.

“They’ll come back?” Sam asked.

Matt paused before feeling for his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said. “Or we’ll go to them. I think you’d enjoy watching them in their natural environment.”

 -----------

Hope that’s something for you anon!! I also hope you feel better!

[butmakeitgayblog]

Demon!AU Snippet

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After much deliberation and help from my merry band of short bottoms, here's the decidedly most PG rated snippet I could find, enjoy? Hopefully?

///////////

"Oop, hot delivery girl, incoming," Raven whispered, a devious smile stretching over her face. 

"Wha-"

Clarke jumped slightly at the quiet thud beside her, eyes swinging around to take in the brilliant pink box now sitting squarely in the middle of her desk. Before she could react, a grey skirt covered hip slid just over the edge of her desk, nudging aside her nameplate and outgoing stack of mail to create an impromptu seat. 

"Morning, gorgeous."

She barely bit back a groan at the voice. 

Raven grinned, leaning forward on her elbows and looking up at the woman now perched on Clarke's desk. "Well, good morning to you too, Lexa."

Perfect. 

Clarke tried her hardest to stay focused on her annoyance at Lexa having such a brazen disregard for things such as personal spaces and belongings and the entirety of office etiquette, pushing down the thoughts of how well that satin burgundy shirt hugged every last one of her curves.

Cheeks pinking in failure, she compromised and settled on averting her eyes to the safety of her computer. 

"Oh, morning. Did you do something with your hair, Reyes?" Lexa questioned, reaching out right across Clarke's screen to gently tug on one of Raven's flowing locks. "Sexy. Looks good."

Sighing in resignation at the obviousness of Lexa's antics, Clarke stopped typing and flopped back silently in her chair, feeling that typical flare of anger. Because who did that? Who does this? Who just sits themselves down on top of a veritable stranger's desk and starts flirting with their coworker? Who practically shoves their ass in someone's face just to sweet talk and charm someone who is distinctly not the work area's owner?

"I did," Raven said, breaking through her silent tirade with pleased smile tinting her features. "Got it trimmed over the weekend and got an oil treatment. Thank you for noticing."

Feeling a pinch to her arm Clarke grunted a soft, "Ow," sucking in a breath as she rubbed the injured area and glared at her friend. "I'm sorry, okay? I told you I had a rough morning."

"Oh, no. What happened? Bad dreams?" Lexa frowned, tucking a wisp of blonde behind Clarke's ear before pulling back. "Or good dreams? 

Blue eyes flew up to the face obviously fighting a smile, an unreadable glint coloring the hooded gaze looking back.

Sucking in a breath at the insanely inappropriateness of that, at feeling somehow Lexa was currently seeing every flash of their torrid dreamtime coupling that was currently flying through her mind at that very moment. Clarke coughed out a quiet choking sound before clearing her throat with a shake of her head. "No," she stated, adjusting in her chair at the tick of a brunette brow and adding firmly, "and no... I'm fine."

Turning back to see her coworker smirking and glancing between them, Clarke narrowed her eyes and pointedly continued. "And I would've noticed eventually, Raven. It's been like five minutes since you sat down."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Lexa noticed at least," Raven flicked her wrist in dismal. "Who needs you?"

"Rave-"

"Ignore her, Clarke," she heard as slim fingers slowly turned her head forward and up, finding a heated grin zeroed in on her. "I need you."

The altogether too intimate touch and tone was gone before she could even begin to process it as Lexa casually moved to open the box beside her, flipping the top and continuing as though nothing had happened. 

"Anyway, I had a craving this morning and couldn't stop myself, but I definitely went a little overboard. Figured I'd share." 

Breathable oxygen still very much an issue after the gentle handling and warm words, Clarke dazedly looked down to see a small array of sweets. 

"Oh my God," Raven moaned, pitching forward over the span of their desks to look through the variety of cupcakes with eagle-eyed precision. "Have I ever mentioned I love you, Lexa?"

"Buttercream can have that effect on people," Lexa hummed, leaning a palm down to support her weight as she practically lazed back across Clarke's desk. "Help yourself. Just leave the-"

"I know, I know," Raven rolled her eyes, fingers already lifting a chocolate and caramel monstrosity out of the box and bringing it to her mouth. 

Snapping out of her reverie, Clarke drew in a quick breath and tsked at her deskmate as she sat back down. "It's like eight in the morning, Raven."

"So?" she muffled through a face full of cupcake.

"Technically, it's 8… 22," Lexa unhelpfully supplied, checking and then double checking the gleaming white gold watch sat neatly on her wrist. Clarke watched a slim finger drag through the chocolate of one of the cupcakes in a slow swoop. "Everyone knows you're allowed to sin after 8am."

"That makes no sense whatsoever," Clarke frowned, her focus now centered entirely on the woman draped over her work area. 

"Trust me, Clarke," Lexa assured in a whisper while bringing the frosting covered fingertip to her mouth. Full red lips wrapped around the sugary digit before sliding it back out clean. "I'm an expert."

With that Lexa hopped up, legs swinging out in a graceful swoop as she lifted herself back onto the ground and hands slid over her chest in a show of straightening out the delicate fabrics of her clothes. Clarke valiantly tried not to watch how the slick material bunched and tugged in all the right places, a small inner voice chastising herself when the only coherent thoughts were of the fit and cut of her outfit. 

It was annoying how everything seemed to fit like it was made for no other body than Lexa's own.  

"Raven, I have a meeting at 11 that I need you to push back to 3," Lexa said as she finished her preening and collected her confectionery haul. "Charles wants to go over the contracts for a new client so I'll probably be busy dealing with kissing his ass until lunch." 

"You got it, boss lady," Raven nodded, immediately turning to her computer at the instruction. "Not that I believe for a second you kiss anyone's ass around here."

"Oh, there's one or two," Lexa hummed, actually having the nerve to openly let her eyes trail over to Clarke for a moment, throwing in a final wink before sauntering away and leaving Clarke to her ruddy cheeked stupor. 

Traitorously her eyes followed after, watching the hitch and sway of rounded hips and long legs as they glided through the office in high, pristine heels. Strong yet slim shoulders flexed with the confident swing of toned arms as she walked like she owned everyone within sight. The dip of her back looked so good wrapped in the smooth material of her blouse, its color and texture seeming almost liquid in the sunlight that slanted through the tall office windows; its smooth deep color spilling over the curve of her firm, full, squeezable looking-

"You need some alone time with that view?"

"What?" Clarke startled, head snapping back around to see her wickedly grinning friend as she carelessly took another bite of her treat.

"You looked like you were trying to get her pregnant with that stare."

"That-... No. Shut up. I wasn't even-... Shut up."

"Articulate. But what I don't understand is why you act like such an angry virgin every time she's around," Raven said, thoroughly ignoring the horrified look that stretched over Clarke's face. "I mean the girl comes up with the dumbest excuses to come talk to you, and you barely ever say two words. At least none that aren't hostile."

"She doesn't though," Clarke argued despite Raven's dubious look. "She came here to flirt with you. 'Ooo Raven, your hair's so sexy'," she mimicked in a nasally voice, dodging the free hand slapping her away as she moved to caress Raven's admittedly beautiful black tendrils. "Besides her being an HR ticking time bomb with how obvious she is, you're married for God's sake."

"You're so dumb. She didn't come here to flirt with me, dude. She came to give you that," Raven laughed and shook her head, reaching over to tap a finger on Clarke's desk.

Clarke followed her line of sight, face scrunching up in surprised confusion at noticing the perfectly placed red and white cupcake sitting on the front edge of her desk. 

"Haven't you ever noticed whenever she 'accidentally' gets too many cupcakes, miraculously and mysteriously there's one red velvet in there? And it always miraculously and mysteriously ends up in your very own little combative ass hands?" Raven asked, rolling her eyes at Clarke's disgruntled look of dawning realization. "Homegirl sure as hell doesn't know my favorite flavor, I take what I can get."

"... I guarantee you, it's a coincidence," Clarke said immediately busied herself with fixing the arrangement of her work belongings. "Lexa's… I don't even know what. But thoughtful or kind or whatever the hell everyone here seems to think, isn't one of them."

"What has she ever done to you? Why do you dislike her so much?" Raven asked. 

"How do you not? She's so… I mean how does no one else see it? She's insanely unprofessional, and says just the, ugh. The things that come out of her mouth. She flirts with everything in a skirt and bosses people around who've been here for years. Besides, haven't you noticed all the weird stuff that's happened?"

"Clarke, we're a startup marketing firm that caters to millennials. Of course there's weird shit going on around here. It's a circus filled with idiots."

"No," Clarke said firmly. "You don't get it, you weren't here before she got here. Things were quiet and fine at the old building and now everything's crazy. Contracts always going missing, John literally just disappeared one day-"

"You realize he probably just quit."

"The whole office has this weird vibe now," she continued on a roll. "I have never seen so many mess ups and freak accidents in an office building of all places before in my life. And she's always just… there."

Raven just stared at her with a blank look of boredom, slowly chewing a bite of her cupcake before swallowing and shaking her head. "Again. You realize everything you described sounds normal for a company who's recently expanded, right? Personnel turnover, paperwork mistakes, general growing pains as they adjust? And you're blaming her for that? When she's literally been nothing but nice to both of us?"

"She just… rubs me the wrong way."

"I think your issue is wanting her to rub you the right way."

Clarke scoffed in an overwhelming show of disgust, ignoring the swoop of her stomach to needlessly re-straighten the pile papers in her hands before carelessly tossing them aside. "You've lost your mind if you think I could even think about her like that. I've seen the way she looks at other people around here, believe me, she's not all sunshine and cupcakes. There's something up with her... Besides, she's annoying. And cocky. You guys treat her like she's God's gift but in reality she's just another asshat lawyer who thinks she's the master of the universe… And she's not even that pretty."

Clarke hadn't meant to go on such a vitriolic vomit of words but it was hard sometimes having to listen to the endless poetic waxing of the woman's praises. It just never stopped, and Clarke genuinely couldn't understand how not one single other person seemed to be able to see through Lexa's bullshit. Her pompousness and irritatingly smooth talking at every interaction. Like somehow her taking the time to figure out Clarke's favorite cupcake and going to the trouble of buying it for her… and hand delivering it to her desk… could or should somehow make up for the salaciousness of her smirk.

"Hey, Clarke?" she heard beside her after a moment.

"What?" she breathed, trying not to let her frazzled nerves get the best of her as she faced Raven with expectant annoyance. 

"Can you turn this way?... Now do this," Raven asked, tilting her own head this way and that as her eyes roved over Clarke's face from different angles.

"Why?"

"Hm? Oh, I'm just thinking about what contouring would work best with your clown makeup, you gigantic fucking liar." 

She easily ducked the halfheartedly slap Clarke aimed at her shoulder before carelessly tossing her empty wrapper in the bin between them and swiveling to resume tapping at her keyboard. 

"I'm just saying," Raven continued, "you're fooling no one with that act. You'd have to be blind not to see how attractive that woman is. I'm happily married and even I don't exactly mind watching her shake her ass past your desk fifty-some-odd times a day. She's a hottie with a body, Clarke. Everyone, including you, can see that."

"You're as bad as she is. And I'm telling your wife you said that."

"Bold of you to assume I haven't said it to her myself... Granted, it was in the context of me wanting you two to just knock boots already, but she's aware I work with eye candy and she doesn't care. My lady knows I'm faithful, I can eye-fuck whoever I want."

"You and Anya defy all sense of reasonable relationship standards."

"That was part of the deal," Raven hummed, clearly becoming more distracted as she leaned closer to her screen and focusing on her work. 

Sighing deeply at the apparent dismissal, Clarke resigned herself to the day as she clicked back into the long list of emails waiting for her… and begrudgingly took a bite of her cupcake.

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

More soon 😈

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales Della Arc Reviews: The Great Dime Chase!

Welcome back all you happy people, to my look at the series first arc! I covered the pilot last week and this week i’m going full speed ahead with two more review for this arc, one more for the Lena arc all leading up to BOTH finsihing up next week for DUCK WEEK, my huge celebration of the final episode of Ducktales 2017. So with all that in mind when we last left off the kids moved in, webby gained friends, Donald and Scrooge made the first steps to patching up.. and Dewey found out his mom was also invovled with their adventures setting this arc off. 

This is also where the airing order reshuffling started as this episode was pushed up by two replacing impossible summit as the third episode... and where said order reshuffling for both this arc and the Lena arc really bit Disney in the ass by giving fans the wrong idea about the series pacing. See the original idea was to have a few episodes as a buffer, since this arc itself is only about 5 episodes long, so the pacing would be more spread out and fans while likely getting impatient for the della mystery to be resolved, would expect it to take about that long after a while. The same was clearly planned for the Lena arc. 

The problem is Disney didn’t give one shit about proper airing order, story pacing or any of that at the time despite their most popular show at said time having the same pacing structure and having been aired in the right order. So as a result and as most of you already know, season 1′s structure was a mess: The globetrotting adventure episodes were off ballance with ones set in Duckburg itself, Scrooge sometimes felt like a supporitng character in the first half due to his two focus episodes being crunched to the back for holidays... it was bad. And it was worst here as by having both the Della and Lena arcs progress pretty quickly in the first 6.. it was thus jarring and grating that there was zero progress for either in the rest of the first half, and they had to move the spear of selene up a few episodes when they came back just to make up for it.. which still messed with pacing as that arc wouldn’t be picked up until the final three episodes solving nothing. This made fans blame the creators for sloppy pacing and for taking too long to get to the Della thing when they’d done nothing wrong and HAD staggered it out. It wasn’t till Frank later revealed the order was a bit bungled we got the message and until a few months into the series being on Disney Plus we got a proper order for the series. And again, the arc has pacing issues we’ll get to without this.. but they were made so much work by Disney blatantly disrespecting and ingoring their creative team. 

I will give credit where it’s due though: Disney learned from it. While Season 2 had a few episodes shuffled around, this time it was due to trying out that binge airing strategy they were doing to get shows on Disney Plus faster, airing DuckBombs (Woo-Ooo!) frequently, so they wanted the airing to flow properly with that without screwing up the flow fo the season more than they absolutely had to. They were being careful and delberate this time not to make the same mistake and with season 3, they simply havent’ shuffled the airing order at all> The only two episodes aired out of order were holiday episodes purposefully made to air at the right time and detached from the season as a whole. This stretches to other shows too: Amphibia is two seasons in and Owl House got through it’s whole season with at worst minimal changes to the airing lineup and the arcs all being properly spaced and aired as intended. I give Disney a lot of shit, rightfully so, but I will give them all the credit when they learn from their mistakes and they REALLY did here, learning to trust their creators to know when to actually make an episode and simply having them set aside holiday episodes if they want one. 

Otherwise not a lot of lead in for this one: It introduces a bunch of the supporting cast, reintroduces the board in full, and in general is a pretty good episode. Find out why under the cut. 

We open with the introduction of the shows go to Show Within a Show Ottoman Empire. And what I’d forgotten was Louie wasn’t always into it but there’s a subtle arc to it: he gets into it, slowly obesses over it, by the end of the season he’s got his brothers into it, it’s not a huge thing but it’s a little detail I can’t help but enjoy a hell of a lot.  But him not liking it is part of a larger problem Scrooge has picked up on: Louie’s laziness has reached godlike new levels: he’s opened about 7 cans of PEP! and only taken a sip from each, won’t change the channel because the remote, which is right next to him and would only take him hopping slightly to the left to get to it or incnching over a bit is “too far”. Scrooge finally blows up at the sight when Louie tosses his phone away for not being charged and assumes he can get another one because “We’re rich”. Scrooge corrects him “I”m rich!” and then drags him off by the hoodie with him to the office so he’ll learn the value of a hard day’s work. And really.. the scene is a good showcase for Scrooge: Louie is acting like the embodiment of all deadbeats and Scrooge is still VERY patient with the boy until it’s very clear he needs a wakeup call. Given Scrooge has a temper on the best of occasions it really shows he’s trying with the boys, and only really snapped when it was clear Louie NEEDED someone to snap at him and snap him out of his bullshit. 

Meanwhile Dewey sneaks into Webby’s room to read her secret file on the McDuck family only to LITERALLY be caught red handed as she put glitter on her outside.. because it looks pretty. And as a security measure. Given she lives with a trained spy who likely has riffled through her stuff at least once, or would at least solely try to check her files just to make sure their secure, and lives in a place that gets broken into or nearly blown up, both by Glomgold, on a regular basis, i’d expect no less. But she also points out the obvious once he explains he’s looking for information on his family: He could’ve just asked. As we saw back in Woo-ooo! like yours truly webby will gladly go on about things she’s obsessed about at the drop of a hat and has likely been dying for someone to share her vast conspiracy board with. As for why he didn’t do the obvious, keep in mind he doesn’t know Webby well this point, so he dosen’t know what questions he asked might set her off and also doesn’t know WHY his uncles don’t talk about her, so he’s being cautious and it’s a nice foreshadowing for his secret keeping throughout the arc.. and how it’s an inherently dumb and selfish idea that only slows down his investigation. 

So naturally given the sequel hook at the end of the pilot, he asks about Della. And after drawing the curtains and making sure Scrooge isn’t around to listen Webby asks what HE knows. Naturally given this is a whole story arc he only knows what she looks like from an old photo of her dunking donald’s head in his birthday cake, and Webby.. knows even less. No one talks about Della and the last time anyone did, a mailmain brought some junk mail with her name on it, Scrooge bought out the post office and they never saw that mail man again. Webby naturally thinks Scrooge murdered him... and while I don’t think he went THAT far, I pity that poor shcmoe and whatever ice floe he’s been banished to. And not a small villiage in the arctic mind you like an actual ice floe scrooge left him on with a lifetimes suply of beans.

 This also admittedly answers a question i’ve been griping about for some time that turns out had a logical answer: I thought he’d somehow wiped her out from public record and the internet and then magically put her back. I was wrong and simply hadn’t rewatched this episode and connected the dots. He likely didn’t do.. any of that, but the triplets likely never thought to internet search her with Donald because as far as they knew Donald was an average person, and thus their mom would be too and looking her up wouldn’t tell her anything about them. It still leaves the plot hole of how they knew about Scrooge and not the Della search, I have no answer for that one, but hey sometimes these things happen and it’s a good enough show I can ignore it. Point is they had no reason to research her before then and Donald likely went out of his way to hide anything about her when they visited places.  Likewise Scrooge was likely so miserable and consumed with his search, and once that was called off his failure, he likely pulled every archive and artifact for his own personal collection to pour over them in sadness and loss and simply put most of it back into the public once the boys helped him heal by the end of the season and the truth was out there. Likewise while the internet info was likely there after this episode too Dewey, as foolish as he can be, likely wasn’t stupid enough to look up his mom’s name on his uncle’s wifi. While Scrooge likely isn’t tech savy, given how paranoid he is and how much of a sore spot this is, it’s not a stretch to have him ask gyro to monitor his wifi for certain key words. So yeah i’ll admit when I was wrong and there was a logical explanation, if still with some holes, all along.

Anyways Webby has one place she hasnt’ been able to get into that might have the answers: Scrooge’s Personal Archives. And as it turns out, both parties are heading to the bin: Scrooge since, much like the comics, that’s where his office is, and Webby and Dewey for the same reason The bin being Scrooge’s buisness center, where his office is where he has meetings where a lot of his emoployees are is very accurate to the comics, as while the layout was never entirely consient apart from “Scrooge’s office is the only way in and out of the bin itself” and said office having a very consistent and iconic look that the series didn’t change. But as we’ll see they added two extra parts to it that in the comics scrooge would Balk at the expense of but this scrooge, whiel still probably not happy about the extra money, knows are vitally necessary. 

Speaking of which the plot splits in two pretty cleanly once we actually get to the bin: Scrooge has no real issue with the kids going to the archives and no glimmer of their real intention, so the plots don't’ meet up again outside of when Louie’s literally crashes into Dewey and Webby’s for a second. There’s some thematic connections, cutaways and an intercut montage, but nothing outside of that. So as is tradition for me i’m covering them seperatly and since it’s both the reason why i’m covering this episode and our B-Plot, let’s start with the archives Webby and Dewey in The Mad Archivist of Scrooge McDuck!

Webby and Dewey head to the archive where we meet Quackfaster. In the comics she’s scrooges long suffering secretary, emphasis on suffering. He barely pays her, takes expenses out of her paycheck and she generally seems once minute away from a nervous breakdown at any given time. What i’m saying is the character and the “gag” have not aged well in any way shape or form so instead here she was revamped. Frank and Matt leaned on Scrooge’s love for adventure more than his greed at first, and had his thrill-seeking be his vice more. It does make sense as greed isn’t nearly as good as it was to people in the 40′s and especially the 80′s, but they eventually clearly realized they made it a bit too subtle, as it’s still an iconic part of the character and played it up a bit more in seasons 2 and 3, to the point two of his worst moments in backstory, both revealed in season 3, come from his greed. They found a nice ballance and I do think having his adventuring also be a vice was a nice change of  pace.  As such, they came up with the idea that he’d hire people who like him are exceptionally talented but also a bit reckless and unhinged. The kind of people most employers would unfairly shut the door on but Scrooge sees their true talent and worth and treats them with the respect they deserve. People who in most other works would be super villains, but here are kept from that by being given honest jobs for their talents and a boss who has no intention of ripping them off or undermining them. IT’s a great concept and I wish we’d saw more than two people hired with that in mind, but the two we got are great.

So with all this Quackfaster was reinvented with this idea in mind to someone entirely different but infinitely more entertaining: She’s now a ham of the highest order, not literally, and slightly unballanced. She also refuses to help Dewey until he completes some challenges for her, sorting out a code in the dewey decimel system

And in sorting the books to get to know the archives. Webby is all for it naturally as this is a dream for her: she’s likely tried to access the place for years and couldn’t as a non-relative, something Scrooge hopefully relaxes in the future, so a giant pile of books about adventuring, Scrooge (including an apparently 7 volumes on his favorite smells one of which Webby gives a happy “I knew it” upon finding out it was fresh baked cookies), and places he’s been, including a sly nod to Plain Awful. This is a hallmark of the show making smaller nods to the past incarnations without going into them or doing those adventures again and while I was at first disappointed those tales already happened in some form, I now get they simply wanted to tell NEW ONES, and were a big as fan of the olds ones as most of you reading this and myself. Though between you and me I was never a big fan of the square eggs story. Good idea just a weird and not all that funny execution. 

Dewey however has the patience of a coked up ferret who also took some shrooms and being Dewey tries simply demanding she tell him. Naturally yelling at the weird hammy lady intrusted to guard the private library of someone whose a certified badass.. is not a smart or correct move and Quackfaster decides if they can’t respect the archives they’ll become PART OF THE ARCHIVES and pulls out a crescent shaped sword to apparently murder them. 

So a chase ensues with the two trying to simply throw books at her, escape her and only narrowly doing so for a minute when Louie pops up being chased by a giant robot made by a smaller robot using a giant change machine. I love this show. 

Eventually their backed into a corner while Dewey defiantly demands info on his mom. And his impatience and anger is understandable: this is the first time in his ten or so year old life he’s had ANY chance of learning anything on her.. and he’s having to do various fetch quests. While he could use some tact, may not get him stabbed so much, his viewpoint is understandable. 

Thankfully it turns out Quackfaster was just doing a Mr.Miaygi and secretly testing them, having chased them to the book Dewey wanted, and said code she had them find earlier is the login for the vault. Granted it also has them put away some books (”How much of this is us just doing your job for you?” “About fiffttty perceeennnt”), but she works for scrooge. While he thankfully pays her a living wage here he still can’t be paying her much. Still they find their way to a secret vault and Dewey gets stabbed a bit to verify he is a mcduck.. and let into Scrooge’s secret room, full of treasures Della likely gathered. As I said, he DID put them aside somewhere, and likely just wanted them to cry over and donald didn’t fight it since the last thing he wanted was the boys learning their legacy. D

The telling part here though, despite accusations later.. is that Dewey’s first instinct upon finding this is  to tell his brothers.  Keep in mind Dewey’s all consuming need for attention and validiation, all of which he could possibly get and only have to share with Webby. He has every selfish reason for not telling them.. but he wants to. He knows they deserve to learn to. The only wrinkle is webby finding a note saying “Scrooge i’m taking the spear of selene, i’m sorry”. He decides to hide it for their sake right then and there. But while part of this as we’ll get into later in the week is him simply being afraid of what he’ll find personally.. it’s fair to NOT want to tell them. To try and protect them from the horrible truth whatever it may be. He has no way of knowing the betryal was nonexistant here and neither did we. It’s not the right course of action, awful truth or no they deserved to know too and both would say as much later, she’s their mom: good person or bad they know.. but like his uncles he’s not hiding this out of malice but because the truth might genuinely hurt them.. and as we’ll learn.. it will.. oh boy will it ever. But more on that next week and more on the arc itself later this week. What about the rest of the episode?

Louie in The Great Dime Chase! and Scrooge in The Boardroom Full of Heartless Assholes!

Winding back a few hours, Scrooge drags Louie up to his office, where the boy is genuinely impressed.. before naturally trying to take a swim in the money while Scrooge tries to tell him about his number one dime. Scrooge stops him before head injury occurs explaining that yes, even the money thing requires proper training: Louie would’ve just cracked his skull open and this would’ve either gotten really dark really fast or turned into a horrifying and hilarious child death version of weekend at bernies. It’s what Louie would’ve wanted. Scrooge can do it because he’s built up the muscle and resistance over time, strong enough and skilled enough to travel through the solid metal and dive into it. It’s a nice nod to life and times: While Scrooge didn’t necesarily train to swim in money, he bathed in it at first and when he needed to during an adventure discovered he could swim through it going from one barrel of his cash to another. So tweaking that slightly to an earned skill, and one Louie will have leanred by the end of the season, was a billiant move..and a way of silencing all those head injury jokes. 

But their soon interrupted by the board, who Scrooge dosen’t recall having a meeting with and likely pull this kind of shit all the time when they can get Scrooge. It makes even more sense after the Della reveal, as he likely has to be forced into dealing with the men who, while as far as he knew were trying to help him, still pulled him away from Della.. and in one case, had a shit eating grin about it. Seriously Bradford you smirked evilly about your nemesis not being able to rescue his daughter how do you NOT get that your the bad guy?

The meeting ends up being boring with Louie asleep and Scrooge almost there, as let’s face it most board meetings probably are, until Gyro barges in! It’s our first apperance of 2017 Gyro and a lot of people were upset by how much more of an ass he was. Me, while I like the kind and gentle original, like the more mad sciency version here and feel Jim Rash did a good job with it, and  I only really hate it when he’s around Fenton, and the show eventually addressed how fucked up that was in Season 3 after downplaying it in Season 2 by having them barely interact and have Gyro genuienly show some pride. Otherwise I like my insane prideful version even if I get why some don’t like it as it is nothing like the comics, but as we see with Donald not being a lot like the comics version isn’t a bad thing. 

IT’s one hell of a character establishing moment, as he barges in, is rude to everyone and has to read cue cards to properly intro his latest invention Little Bulb, Gyro’s most iconic invention whose made here to help people not do work. The Board is skeptical though as most of Gyro’s inventions have turned evil, a nice nod to the fact that most of Gyro’s robots in the original series, who are in fact on a list of previous inventions.. turned evil and tried to kill people. IT also shows his warmer side as he insists they aren’t evil just misunderstood, or at least half were anyway, and tries to cover for Little Bulb shaking his fist at them and doing a throat slitting gesture... which while Bradford plays dumb about what that means.. he’s worked in organized Villainy for at least 55 years. He knows what that gesture means. It’s Heron’s favorite. And even if he didn’t he’s also worked with Scrooge for around 30. It’s also Scrooge’s favorite. So it’s rejected though Scrooge encourages Gyro who vows they’ll understand one day and they’ll all pay. Really should save that for outside. 

Scrooge vouches for the board to Louie who questions such a slam dunk, pointing out he trusts their judgment.. mostly because he dosen’t know they’ve been embezzling from him to fund an evil spy orginzation the whole time but still, he usually trusts them. He would’ve found a way to fire them if he didn’t on the Della thing. But sometimes they overstep and they undermine that statment by suggesting cuts to the Bin’s budget, starting with Magical defenses “Do you know how many curses I have on my head?”. And props to the creators as they apparnetly had the whole Bombie idea in mind this far back, and as Bradford later shows towards the end of next season when he lures Louie into cutting it, he KNOWS where that money goes. He just was trying to feign ignorance to get Scrooge killed if he could. Clever bastard. 

So Louie goes to get a drink, and naturally scrooge’s drink machine in his office not only charges but requires an extra ten cents. Louie assumes the dime in his office is an emergency Dime only to walk in on Scrooge giving the full story. As you all likely know, it’s his number one dime, with the origin taken straight from life and times: He was a poor shoe shine, and he worked hard to clean off a ditchdigger’s muddy boots, working himself to the bone.. only to get an American dime which inspired him both to work harder and smarter than anyone and to go to America to seek his fourtune. There’s some extra steps in the original material, and another bit that the show would also adapt later that we’ll get to next week, but point is it’s his symbol of all his hard work.. that Louie just sent into the vending machine.  So said great chase insures as Louie follows the dime, as it’s emptied from the vending machine.. by a gull janitor we only see this season. And he’s a really likeable guy I wish we’d learned more. He then faces his and Charles Xavier’s greatest enemy THE STAIRS. There’s a runner about Louie having to constnatly run up and down the massive amount of stairs the bin has as someone else takes the elevator and by the climax it’s been taken out entirely. It’s pretty great.  So Louie’s seemingly screwed and instead looks up how to pick a lock on YouTube.. no really. That’s what he does. Frank outright mentioned this in an interview, pointing out they wanted the kids to act like a kid would.. and props to him that’s what a kid would do. Hell that’s what I would do if I were locked out of a place and time was of the essence. Either that or look up a step by step instruction on google. He then runs into Gyro though, and gets the idea to use LIttle Bulb, convinces Gyro he has money and would like to invest and just needs to borrow the little guy and Gyro is happy to agree to it. 

Naturally though, Louie’s laziness and a volatile machine who only likes one people just like his daddy, do not mix and Louie leaves sorting the coins to it while he watches Ottoman Empire, actually getting really sucked into it. IN fairness he did start with the Glomgold episode. Little Bulb meanwhile shows just how awesome he is by turning himself into a giant coni sorting mech by rewiring and reconfiguring the coin sorter.. and naturally given who made hi going mad with power. So while he did get the dime out.. he’s not horrifyingly obessed with chasing it and the real great dime chase begins. 

Back at the meeting Scrooge continues to debate the Buzzards who now want to cut staff, both of whom Scrooge rightfully defends. While Gyro is a bit unhinged, his inventions have likely made the company millions and saved them billions, and while Quackfaster is the same as we just saw, there’s a method to her madness and her laziness. And given Quackfaster works two additional jobs to afford a nice retirement, it’s clear that while he pays them decently he’s likely still not paying them gobs. With the power of hindsight i’ts very clear Bradford just wants to try if he can to eliminate two sources of chaos and backup for Scrooge and when Scrooge sarcastically suggests just getting rid of the bin, Bradford goes with it with a shit eating grin, but it’s very clear by that and Scrooge’s frustration this is a non starter, and Bradford’s likely doing it just because he frankly knows it’ll piss Scrooge off. 

So Louie runs for it working harder than he has in his whole life, with Gyro eventually trying to talk little bulb down, to no avail.. though we do get a nice moment of it registering him as father. Awwww. So the chase naturally eventually leads to the bin and Louie stuck in it, slowly swimming across, until Gyro gets to LIl Bulb, and realizes he’s in the wrong time of wattage and has literally gone mad with power and puts him back in his tiny old body fixing the problem. Gyro also crashed in with the bulb mech earlier, and while it disproves Scrooge’s point he’s stable.. he simply rolls with it and points out his staff is dangerously insane, and would likely swear vengeance on the Board if they were fired. And while he dosen’t say this part of it directly given Scrooge treats BOTH Quackfaster and Gyro exceptionally well, he knows they’ll know EXACTLY whose idea it was.. probably even tell them. So the board agrees to keep things as is to not die horribly as supervillains or not they have limits. 

So the day is one, Louie finds the dime, replaces it and passes out with Scrooge none the wiser. it also turns out the Dime isn’t even the real deal, to Louie’s frustration. But Scrooge is proud he clearly worked hard, and gives him the fake dime as his own number one dime, a nice setup for their bond and a nice showing that Louie really has the potential to be as rich as his uncle one day, and it’s clear by this setup there was a lot of potential here for an arc.. which is why we got one. More on that some other time. Louie accidently spends it while Gyro ends realizing if he put himself int he robot it wouldn’t go mad with power.. and thus Project Blatherskite is born. And we all know where this is going. 

Final Thoughts: All in all a decent episode. It has great pacing, some excellent world building, and some really good gags. While the series would do better episodes as it went, for an early episode helping set things up including Louie’s charcter arc, Gyro, Gizmoduck and the board as proper characters, it’s still very good and one of the series early standouts. 

Next Time on Della: Donald is forced to confront his adventuring past when he runs into his old sorta friend THE INCREDIBLE STORKULES, Scrooge is forced into games of the gods by their resident Douchebag Zeus, and Dewey is forced to confront his own fear of whatever it is his mom did. Confront this review later this week. 

Next Time on This Blog: It’s Lena’s Dark Night of the Soul as she and Webby head into “The Other Bin of Scrooge McDuck!” 

If you liked this review share it, feel free to commission your own and feel free to join my patreon at patreon.com/popculturebuffet. Even a buck a month helps, and helps me reach my stretch goals, the current one being just 5 dollars away, and netting you reviews of the super Ducktales arc of Ducktales and a Darkwing Duck Review every month. See you at the next rainbow.

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Cool Games I Finished In 2020 (In No Real Order)

Oh, hey! Right! I have a website! I’m like a week late on writing this, but what’s a week on top of an entire year of not writing, right? 2020 was... well, we all know what 2020 was. For me personally, it was simultaneously the best and worst year of my life. The worst in both ways you can probably assume and ways you definitely can’t (neither of which I’ll be getting into), and the best in ways I absolutely never would have guessed. That uncertain job I mentioned last year got very suddenly much more certain, at a much bigger company, for a much larger amount of money. That allowed me to get my own place, making my weird living situation much less weird. Still haven’t gotten the majority of my belongings off of the east coast, but if the entire world wasn’t currently fucked up by a global pandemic I’d have sorted all that out too. What I’m saying is that, for the third year in a row, my life has been a complete whirlwind that has left me very little time to get comfortable with any aspect of it. But I did manage to play more video games than I did last year! Which is perfect, because it’s once again time for another one of these. Here’s a bunch of cool games I experienced for the first time in 2020.

Astro’s Playroom (PlayStation 5, 2020)

My one word description of Astro's Playroom is "delightful". It's just an absolute goddamn delight. A total surprise too! Included with every PlayStation 5, Astro's Playroom is, in my opinion, one of the best pack-in games of all time.

First off, it's an incredible tech demo for the PS5's new DualSense controller. It was easy to brush off Sony's talk about the controller's haptic feedback and triggers as some Nintendo-style HD Rumble bullshit, but it really is incredibly cool once you get your hands on it. The game is obviously more than a tech demo though, or else it wouldn't be on here. It also just so happens to be an extremely solid and fun platformer on top of that. Astro controls exceptionally well and the levels are all well-designed and fun, even the gimmick vehicle ones designed to show off different features of the controller. It also has an oddly compelling speedrun mode, made all the more compelling by the PS5 notifying you when your friends beat your times and the ability to load into it within two seconds from anywhere on the console. But the biggest thing for me and, call me a mark, because I am, is that the game is an honestly incredible love letter to PlayStation history.

For the first time ever, Sony has pulled off a nostalgia piece without it ending up as embarrassing garbage in the vein of PlayStation All-Stars Battle Royale. There's a Nintendo-like joyful reverence for all things PlayStation oozing out of every single corner of this game. There are so many nods and references and gags for literally every PlayStation thing of note throughout the the last 25 years, and then on top of that there's a whole heap more for the things that AREN'T of note that only hyperdorks like me would get! A sly reference to the ill-fated boomerang controller? Yep. A goof on the fat PS3's Spider-Man font? You betcha. A trophy you can earn by repeatedly punching a Sony Interactive Entertainment sign until it breaks and reveals the Sony Computer Entertainment sign it was slapped on top of? Yeah buddy. It's deep cuts all the way down, even up until the final boss which had me grinning like a total dipshit the entire time. The game is endlessly, effortlessly charming.

Animal Crossing: New Horizons (Nintendo Switch, 2020)

Animal Crossing: New Horizons was the perfect game at the perfect time. That doesn't mean it's a perfect game, I actually have some issues with it, but it could not have released at a better time than when it did. It came out at the very very beginning of everyone going into lockdown due to the pandemic, and it was the biggest game in the world for a couple of months as a result. I played like 300 hours and that pales in comparison to the amount of time many others put into it.

Animal Crossing: New Horizons is the most different Animal Crossing game there's ever been, and I'm of two minds on it. Like, I loved the game, I played a ton of it, but it's lacking so much of the stuff that made me love Animal Crossing in the first place. The series has been slowly trending in this direction for a bit now, but it's not really a game that happens around you anymore. It's all about total player control. You select where everything goes, you customize every detail of everything to your liking, hell, you can even terraform the landmass to be exactly what you want. Your neighbors take a backseat in focus and end up as little more than decorations with limited dialogue and next to no quests associated with them. Series staples like Gyroids are missing in action. Facilities and services that have been around since Wild World aren't implemented. It's similar to past Animal Crossing games in a lot of ways, but on the whole it feels like a different thing.

But like I said, two minds. New Horizons strays from what I truly want from an Animal Crossing game, but I can't deny that the game as it is is a hell of a lot of fun. There's SO much you can do and SO many options, it's super addictive. Plus it implemented my long-requested feature of letting you effortlessly send mail to friends online! Too bad the actual online play is as cumbersome as ever.

In conclusion, Animal Crossing: New Horizons is a land of contrasts. I'm kidding. It's good, but definitely missing something in a way where I can understand some people being disappointed in it. I had a ton of fun though, and I'm probably going to get back into it later in 2021.

Trials of Mana (Nintendo Switch, 2019)

Late in 2019, with the physical release of Collection of Mana for the Switch, I decided I was going to play through each game on it for the first time and finally find out what this whole Mana thing was about. I went into Final Fantasy Adventure (the first game in the Mana series, because every RPG had to be Final Fantasy back then) with zero expectations and found a totally serviceable little Zelda-like with light RPG elements. I enjoyed my time with it. I went into Secret of Mana with the expectation of it being a beloved classic and found the worst game I beat that year, hands down. That game fucking sucks. I get why it made an impression on people at the time, but it's just so so SO awful to play. Needless to say I was pretty disappointed. Honestly, I would have been disappointed even if I hadn't heard it was one of "the best games" for so long. It would have been a disappointing follow-up to Final Fantasy Adventure, a game that in and of itself isn't anything incredible. Secret of Mana is just that rotten.

I braced myself for more disappointment when (after a much needed vacation from the series) I started up Trials of Mana. This game had a reputation too, as a long-lost classic that never made it stateside. One of the best games on the Super Nintendo, criminally never released for western audiences! Like Secret of Mana before it, I'd heard nothing but effusive praise. Unlike Secret of Mana, however, I was very pleased to find out that Trials of Mana mostly lives up to the hype. From a gameplay standpoint, Trials is an improvement on Secret in almost every single way. It's not perfect. The menus are still kinda clunky, animations for things like magic and items are still frequently disruptive. But the main thing is it actually plays like a sensible video game designed by humans with brains. Attacking is responsive! Hitboxes aren't complete nonsense! You don't constantly get stunlocked to death! There are more answers to combat than casting the same spell for five straight minutes to kill your enemies before they get a chance to move! It's great!

On top of being an enjoyable video game to actually play, the presentation is top notch. Secret of Mana could be a pretty game with decent music in some spots, but Trials is consistently gorgeous and the soundtrack is across the board great instead of randomly having songs that sound like clown vomit. And while Trials of Mana doesn't have the deepest story in the world, it manages to avoid being completely paper-thin like Secret. The story actually kind of has a reason for being a bit straightforward, and the reason is that it has a really cool system where you pick your three playable characters from a pool of six. Each character has their own goals and storyline, some of which line up with other potential party members, some of which don't, and you'll even run into the characters you didn't choose as NPCs along the way. This and the relatively brisk pace of the game make it highly replayable.

I'm really glad that Trials of Mana made it over here in an official capacity, even if it was like 25 years late. It's as good as I expected Secret of Mana to be and singlehandedly saved my interest in seeing any more of the series. I'm aware the quality of what came after is very spotty, but I'll get to the rest eventually!

Final Fantasy VII Remake (PlayStation 4, 2020)

They (almost) did it. They (basically) pulled it off. They remade (a chunk of) Final Fantasy VII and (for the most part) didn't fuck it up. Ok, funny parentheticals aside, Final Fantasy VII Remake is astoundingly good coming off of over two decades of just absolutely dreadful post-FF7 sequels, side games, and movies.

Final Fantasy VII has been historically misremembered as this kind of miserable, angsty, brooding thing, both by fans and by the company that made it. FF7-branded media after FF7 itself is a minefield of changed personalities, embarrassing original characters, and monumentally lame stories. Final Fantasy VII Remake is the first post-FF7 anything that actually remembers the characters, setting, and plot of Final Fantasy VII and what made them memorable and special to people in the first place. Which isn't to say it's a slavish recreation! There's a ton of changes and additions, and I actually like almost all of them! Except for some really big stuff I'll touch on in a bit!

The combat in Final Fantasy VII Remake is great. I was super skeptical about it when the game was first announced, but they actually managed to make the blend of real-time action and turn-based RPG menuing fun and engaging. The characters all play super differently from each other too, which is a huge and welcome difference from the original game. The Materia system fits like a glove in this revamped combat system as well. The remixed music is good as hell, and the visuals are beautiful (outside of a couple of very specific spots that I'm kinda of surprised they haven't fixed in a patch yet). It's a well-executed package all around.

But alas, as always, there are negatives. For starters, this is only part one of the overall Final Fantasy VII Remake project. It goes up to the party leaving Midgar which, as you may or may not recall, is the first six hours of the original game. They compensated for this by fleshing the hell out of the Midgar section the game, ballooning the overall playtime to total of about 30-ish hours. The game feeling padded is a common complaint but for what it's worth, I didn't really feel it until the unnecessarily long final dungeon, There's also the previously mentioned and funny parenthetical'd changes and additions I don't like.

This is big time spoilers for this game so if you don't want that jump ahead to the next game on the list. The Whispers suck ass. Final Fantasy VII Remake should have been brave enough to be different without having to constantly derail everything in the most ham-fisted and intrusive way possible. You can have Jessie twist her ankle without making a spooky plot ghost trip her. I don't want to fight the physical manifestation of the game everyone thought they were getting as an end boss. If you're not doing a straight remake, that's fine, but have the fucking guts to stand by your artistic decisions without feeling the need to invent the lamest deus ex machina I've ever fucking seen. The last couple of hours of this game are 100% about the Whispers and are awful for it. It's a true testament to the strength of the rest of Final Fantasy VII Remake that this aspect didn't completely sour me on it. I can only hope that they stay dead and gone for good in the games yet to come and the remake can be different while standing on its own two feet.

I truly cannot wait for the next entry in the Final Fantasy VII Remake project. I'm excited for Final Fantasy VII in a way I haven't been since the late 90s. I have a bit of trepidation that they could royally screw it up. I mean, they already got kinda close, as I said in my last paragraph. But they got so much right in this entry that, for the first time in decades, I'm willing to believe in Square Enix when it comes to Final Fantasy VII.

13 Sentinels: Aegis Rim (PlayStation 4, 2020)

My one word description of 13 Sentinels is "fucking crazy". I realize that's two words, but shut up. A bizarre hybrid of visual novel, adventure game, and strategy RPG, 13 Sentinels not only makes that work, but makes it work incredibly well. 

The story is fucking bonkers. It's told entirely non-linearly and is purposefully dense and confusing, but it does an amazing job of hooking you with a cast of likable characters and some impressively well-paced twists, made all the more impressive by the fact that you can tackle the story in basically whatever order you want. I'll say it again for those in the back, the story is Fucking Bonkers. Wherever you think it's going, it's not going. Where it is going is PLACES. Seriously, if you want a wild goddamn ride, this is the game for you. The presentation is also stunning. It's a drop dead gorgeous game with a really nice soundtrack. Easily Vanillaware's best looking game, which is saying something seeing as looking good is Vanillaware's whole deal.

If I had to levy one criticism against the game, it's that the strategy RPG portion is just kind of ok. It's enjoyable enough, it doesn't get in the way and there's not too much of it, but once it starts introducing armored versions of previous enemy types it's kind of done doing anything different. It is really good at getting people to out themselves as having no idea what tower defense is as a genre though!

Hyrule Warriors: Definitive Edition (Nintendo Switch, 2018)

I haven't really historically been a "Musou Guy". Not to say I've actively disliked them, they're just not something I've seeked out very often or played very much of. Hyrule Warriors: Definitive Edition kinda turned me into a "Musou Guy" a little bit? It's good, surprisingly-less-mindless-than-you'd-think fun.

I actually super don't care about the Zelda branding. I think all the fanservice stuff is meh at best. What I do care about is that there's a ton of character variety and a metric shitload of content. There's so many different characters and weapons for those characters that all play differently from one another and SOOOOOO many levels to play. Like the story mode is, again, kinda meh, the real meat of the game is the Adventure mode and there's a ton of it. It's 8 different world maps, each based off a different Zelda game, with each square of the map containing a little mini-scenario with unique objectives and rewards. There has to be at least 1000 scenarios between all the maps. There's so much. And that's not even getting into some of the other side stuff like the challenge modes and the fairy raising. It's a crazy amount of game in this game.

And again, it's not as mindless as it'd seem. It's not really a game ABOUT destroying 5000 guys, it's an area control and resource management game where the 5000 guys are one of those resources. Knowing who to send where and when to fight who is way more important than pressing the XXX YYY XXX YYY on the more than one million troops.

I'd say that if you're even cursorily potentially maybe interested in a musou game, this is the one to try. And if you like it, it could literally be your forever game. A sequel came out recently too, and I'm looking forward to trying that out soon.

Phantasy Star Online 2 (Xbox One, 2020)

Phantasy Star Online 2 finally came stateside in the year 2020, eight years after its initial Japanese release and initial American cancellation. It's no Phantasy Star Online 1, but it is a really fun game in its own right provided you can find the willpower to break through its clunkiness and eight years of confusing poorly tutorialized free-to-play MMO cruft.

The main thing going for PSO2, and this is a major improvement from PSO1, is that the act of engaging in its combat is fun. The combat is just feels really really good. There's a bunch of different weapon types and classes, and once you find the ones that really click with you you're in for a good time, whether you're izuna dropping dudes with wire claws or literally doing air juggles and rainstorm from Devil May Cry with the dual machine guns.

The other stuff around that combat is weird. I generally like it, but it's weird. The story mode is one of the most bizarrely presented things I've ever seen. It apparently used to be something you'd seek out in the levels themselves, but presently it's just a list of scenes you pick from a menu and watch with next to no context until it makes you fight a boss sometimes. There's some weird moments in there that MIGHT have been cool if it were presented in literally any other way?

The systems and presentation are also way more... I dunno, pinball? Pachislot? In very stark contrast to how chill original Phantasy Star Online was, everything in PSO2 is designed in a way to maximize that flashy light bing bing wahoo you got ~*~RARE DROP CHANCE UP~*~  feeling. Which isn't to say I don't like flashy light bing bing wahoo, but it's a weird different thing.

Was it worth the wait? Yeah, sure! For me! This is another one that I played like 300 hours of! I haven't even seen half of it, I fell off right before Episode 4 released because it coincided with my move! I'm gonna go back and see all that shit! PSO2's fun! A different flavor of fun than the original, sure, but fun all the same. Another one that I'm glad finally made it over here.

Riichi Mahjong (A Table, 1924)

Holy shit I fucking did it I finally learned how to play Mahjong and it rules.

It started when I picked up Clubhouse Games for the Switch. I saw that it had Riichi Mahjong and something in my brain snapped. For whatever reason, I decided that this was the time I was going to rip the band-aid off and figure this shit out. It wasn't too dissimilar to the first time I decided to try eggs, but that's a different and much stupider story for a different time. I did the tutorial in Clubhouse Games, looked up some more basics and advice because the tutorial wasn't super amazing, and I kept playing while being aided by the game's nice helper features like the button that pulls up recommended hands. I kept playing and... sorta got it. I learned the basic rules, but none of the strategy. And then I stopped playing for a few months.

In that few months, for whatever reason, a decent amount of people I know had their brains snap the same way? Like a more-than-two amount of people I'm either friends with or following online also decided to learn Mahjong. I decided to get back on the horse and downloaded Mahjong Soul and I don't know whether it was perseverance or the power of anime babes, but this time I got it. I still refer to a sheet with all the hands and whether they work open or closed, and I'm by no means a master player, but I actually honest to god understand what I'm doing and it's an incredible feeling.

Mahjong has such a huge amount of what I like to call "Get That Ass" energy. It is the energy you feel when you get someone's ass. In Mahjong you are either constantly getting someone's ass or getting your ass gotten. Someone puts down the wrong tile and you fucking GET THEIR ASS DUDE! They're got!! They're a fucking idiot that put down the wrong thing and now you have their points!!! Or you draw what you need yourself and you're a brain genius all according to plan and everyone gives you points because you're so wise!!!! It's great!!!!!

Mahjong has long been one of those games where I'd say "I'll learn this someday" and never reeeeally actually try to learn, and I'm so glad I finally took the effort to because it's good as hell. And, truth be told, it wasn't THAT hard to learn? Like you can get to the point where I was where I didn't know the strategy fairly easily in my opinion, and once you do that It's just a matter of continuing to play to understand the rest. I highly recommended that you also go out and learn it if you similarly revel in getting that ass, it's so satisfying once you do.

Yakuza: Like a Dragon (PlayStation 4, 2020)

Ryu Ga Gotoku Studio took a big gamble with Yakuza: Like a Dragon. After seven games (more if you take spinoffs and remakes into consideration) they decided to focus on a new main character and, even more unexpectedly, they decided to change things up by turning the series into a turn-based JRPG. Their gamble paid off in spades. This is easily in my top 3 favorite Yakuza games.

The JRPG gameplay is surprisingly solid. There's definite room for improvement, but they nailed a bunch of it right out of the gate. Some mechanics are a little janky and I wish the job system was more fleshed out or just worked more like Final Fantasy V's, but they nailed one of the most important things and made the battles brisk and fun. It's a great foundation, especially for a team that's never attempted anything like this, and it's way more fun than the combat's been in any of the previous Dragon Engine games. I can't wait to see them iterate on it.

Everything else is top fuckin' notch. The music is great, the side content is fully fleshed out in a way it hasn't been since before they switched to the Dragon Engine, and I love the characters and story so much. Yakuza has a new main character in Ichiban Kasuga, and he's my son and I love him. Kiryu was great, and I love him too, but he was a bit of a passive protagonist. Stuff happened around him and he mostly just stoically reacted to it. Ichi is a much more active lead and it's great. He's a big lovable dope, and his tendency to keep an upbeat attitude and eagerness to leap into action is such a breath of fresh air. And it's not only Ichiban, since this is an RPG you have a whole party of characters and they're all great! Having them with you at all times bantering with each other and reacting to things is another great change of narrative pace, too. 

Yakuza: Like a Dragon just straight up rules. As someone who has historically not been too much of a fan of the Dragon Engine games, it's simultaneously a refreshing new take on the series and a fantastic return to form. I can't wait for what comes next. Wherever Ichiban goes, I go.

Moon: Remix RPG Adventure (Nintendo Switch, 2020)

After 23 years of Japanese PS1 exclusivity, Moon: Remix RPG Adventure finally got an English release this year for Nintendo Switch. I'm glad it did, because Moon isn't just the very definition of A Sebmal Game. It's the Sebmal Game missing link. In addition to being just a great video game, it helped me make a mental throughline for a bunch of games I love and a large part of my taste in video games.

To keep a long story short (seriously, I have a much much longer version of this saved in my drafts that I'll maybe finish someday), Moon turned out to be not the JRPG I assumed it was, given the title and basic story pitch, but a secret prequel to a game I love named Chulip. Moon's developer, Love-de-Lic, was formed by a handful of ex-Squaresoft employees, many of which worked on an extremely formative game I love named Super Mario RPG: Legend of the Seven Stars. Love-de-Lic broke up in the year 2000 and its staff went on to form a bunch of different studios that ended up making a BUNCH of different games I love like Chibi-Robo, Freshly-Picked Tingle's Rosy Rupeeland, Dandy Dungeon, and the aforementioned Chulip. These games, when you make the connection and line them up, all have a very distinct weirdness in common that makes perfect sense once you've realized many of the same people worked on them. Figuring this all out felt like snapping a piece of my brain back in place, and it was really crazy to come to understand exactly how much this studio that formed and disbanded decades before I'd even heard of them had impacted my tastes and, hell, my life.

So what is Moon, for those who don't innately understand what I mean by "a secret prequel to Chulip"? Moon is an adventure game where you explore a world with a day/night cycle, learn about that world's inhabitants, and eventually solve their problems. Think of it kind of like The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask, but if the sidequests were the entirety of the focus with no Groundhog Day time reset mechanic and none of the Zelda stuff like combat and dungeons. You play as a young boy who, after a late night JRPG binge session, is sucked into the world of the game he was just playing. Everything is off from the way it was portrayed while the boy was playing the game, though. The hero he had previously controlled is actually a silent menace, raiding peoples' houses for treasure and slaughtering every innocent animal that crosses his path in an endless quest for EXP. The townspeople seem more concerned with problems in their day-to-day lives than the supposed world threatening crisis outlined in the game's intro. It's up to you as the boy to investigate this world's mysteries, help the townsfolk, mend the damage the hero has done, and eventually restore love to a loveless world.

Speaking of love, I fucking loved Moon. I loved the story, I loved the characters, I loved the music, I loved the way it looks (even though the Switch port is a little crusty in that basic emulator-y kinda way), I loved how constantly bizarre and surprising and funny it was. Like I said earlier, it's the very definition of a game made for me. It was essentially the progenitor of a long line of games made for me, and of games potentially made for me but I don't know yet because I haven't played them due to not understanding Japanese (UFO: A Day in the Life translation next please? Anyone from Onion Games reading this??). For as similar as Moon and Chulip are in their systems and pacing, I think I might actually like Moon better despite it coming earlier? It's not as full force maximum impact absurd as Chulip is, but it is a lot more playable and less obtuse once you get a grip on the time limit mechanic. You don't need a full strategy guide included in the instruction manual for Moon, and you don't need to exchange business cards with every single character to get information vital to finishing the game either.

I truly cannot recommend Moon enough if your taste in games ventures anywhere off the beaten path. Maybe this is a little conceited of me, but I assume if you're reading this article, let alone this far down into it, you relate to my video game opinions at least a little bit? You should play Moon. Everyone reading this sentence should play Moon. Moon: Remix RPG Adventure is my game of the year for the year 2020.

These games were also cool, I just had less to say about them:

Death Stranding (PlayStation 4, 2019): Death Stranding, much like Metal Gear Solid V, was a game I enjoyed for the gameplay and not much else. The story, characters, and writing were a huge disappointment for me, but man if I didn't enjoy lugging those boxes around and setting up my hellish cross-continental goon summer camp lookin' zipline network. Mr. Driller Drill Land (Nintendo Switch, 2020): I am a known Mr. Driller Enjoyer, and I enjoyed this Mr. Driller. Originally released for the Gamecube, Mr. Driller Drill Land is another long-time Japanese exclusive that finally came stateside this year and it's packed with new and novel twists on the Mr. Driller format. It looks super sharp, the music's great (also the credits music is the most impossibly out of place and extra as hell shit in the world and it's hilarious), and it's just a good ass time. The main campaign is pretty damn short, but if you're a post-game content kinda guy it has that and it's all super hard. Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 1+2 (PlayStation 4, 2020): They finally made another good new Tony Hawk game, and all it took was perfectly remaking two of the best old Tony Hawk games! Plays exactly like you remember it with the added benefit of the best mechanics from up to THUG1, looks great, packed full of content, even has most of the music alongside some mostly crappy new stuff. It's the full package as is, but I do hope they end up adding THPS3 to it eventually. Mad Rat Dead (Nintendo Switch, 2020): Mad Rat Dead was a pleasant surprise that I only picked up because I saw a couple of people on my Twitter timeline constantly talking about it. A fun and inventive platformer where all your actions need to be on beat with the music. The gameplay feels great (aside from some not so great performance issues on Switch), the soundtrack is fun, and it's got a real good style to it. Demon's Souls (PlayStation 5, 2020): I love Demon's Souls and this is Demon's Souls. It plays exactly the same with some minor quality of life changes. I don't agree with many of the artistic changes, but there's no denying it looks incredible on a technical level. If you want to play Demon's Souls again or for the first time, this is a perfectly valid and fun way to do so. Groove Coaster: Wai Wai Party!!!! (Nintendo Switch, 2019): Groove Coaster is one of my favorite rhythm games, and they finally made an acceptable at-home version with Wai Wai Party. It's not a perfect replication of the arcade game control-wise, I have some issues with the song choices, and the pricing is frankly fucking ridiculous if you're not a Groove Coaster maniac like I am, but the same ultra satisfying gameplay is all there. You can even play it vertically in handheld mode! Flip Griiiiiiiip!

And we're done! Phew! Honestly didn't realize I played that many good games until I typed all this out. Thanks as always for reading this far. I'm gonna try and get back to regularly posting Breviews this year at the very least. Honestly don't know if I'll get anything else up on here, but we'll see. Here's to hoping 2021 is a little bit less of a nightmare!

[coastaldragon]

Dragon Diary 1/7/21

So...this is my resolution for the year.

I wanted to start a kin-related diary. I found myself missing how often I used to muse about myself and my experiences here, and have long since felt...detached from myself. Stuck in the loop of going through the motions of “human.”

A week late on my first entry, but so it goes.

These entries will just be flow-of-consciousness blabbles for the most part. I’ll talk about any kin-related thoughts I’ve had that day, how I’ve been feeling, how my otherkinity has affected my day, etc.

I have a lot of catching-up to do with you all, so the first few entries may seem disjointed and a little long. Lets get started. This is long. And a bit negative. But hopefully they won’t all be.

cw for death and drug mention and health talk like needles and stuff

I don’t quite remember why I dropped Tumblr like I did. I think I was getting annoyed at all the UI changes, and just overall very busy with “real life.” These things happen. I slowly drift away from a platform. Sometimes for weeks, months, or years in this case. Then I’ll drift back. Kind of like a scrap of wood on the waves.

In the time I’ve been gone life has been...interesting. The source of the stress that caused me to awaken in the first place is gone. He OD’d in...2014? 2015? Some time around there. My grasp of time is worse than ever.

We hadn’t even known he’d be using anything. Turned out he was stealing my late father’s remaining fentanyl supply. One of those guys who preys on widows like my mother. He lied about everything. His entire past as we knew it was a lie. And he was just leeching off of us.

It was...hard. I was the one who found his body upon getting home from work. My mother is still traumatized, even now. Even after all he did. She did love him.

I think all that hardened me quite a bit. And I’m sad for it. I’m still trying to soften myself again, but my trust has never been shattered like that before or since.

My now health is...poor. I had a great job working at an independent pack-and-mail sort of place for a few years. Very laid back, when the customers were nice. Helped me build a lot of strength and muscle. Quite enjoyed showing off by hefting 50lb boxes onto my shoulders. Helped me feel less weak in this squishy human body of mine.

But about...2 or 3 years ago [again, time is a myth to my brain] I woke up and my shoulders were just.

Locked.

It felt like someone had stuck paint spanners under my shoulder blades or something. Not only that, but I was weak. I barely had the strength in my arms to lift a half gallon of milk in the morning.

We thought I’d just hurt myself showing off, somehow. So we gave it some time. Took ibuprofen, used pain creams. Took a few days off work.

But it didn’t get better. It got painful. And the moreso. And moreso. And then my back began to have trouble as well. It was spreading. I felt...ill.

So. Doctors. Tests. More bloodwork than I’ve ever had in my entire life. [10 vials at once for one appt!]

My primary, who is a garbage person I never wish to see again, insisted it was just a sprain. Or something. Whatever. But I knew it wasn’t. My mother knew it wasn’t. Everyone I knew knew it wasn’t.

Specialist time! At the behest of my cousin, who has a litany of autoimmune disorders, we hooked up with a rheumatologist. Who I will call Dr.M. 

Dr.M is an angel on Earth. I am convinced of it. A full year he spent with me, ordering tests, trying treatments, working with me to figure out what the hell was going on. And we did. And what a mouthful it is.

Ankylosing spondylitis. No, it’s not a dinosaur. [Though I do think I’m ‘hearted for ankylosaurines...I don’t think it’s related lol!]

You can look it up if you like. But basically: My immune system is fucking crazy and attacks all the things. Most places describe it as being a lower spine disorder, and while that is certainly where its centralized in most folks, that’s not all it is.

For example mine is, obviously, centralized in my shoulders and upper back. But it does aaaaaaaaaaall sorts of crazy shit. Every day is different. Joint pain, exhaustion, GI trouble, stomach upset, lack of appetite, murderous migraines. The usual for an autoimmune illness. But also wacky shit like costochondritis [painful inflammation of the cartilage of the ribs], random organ inflammation like in my kidneys [not fun], lungs [I had a 3-month stint of chronic bronchitis last winter], and even my heart [very not fun.] Sometimes it likes to attack my “integumentary system” aka shit like my skin and hair meaning I’ll have weeks where my hair just. Sheds. Like a damn cat. It gets everywhere and w/ my long-ass quarantine hair it’s so annoying.

This attack dog immune system does mean it’s unlikely for me to catch little bugs like your common colds and stuff, which is appreciated. But it also likes to maul anything else it deems foreign. Like medication! I took Humira shots for a few months and had a “paradoxical reaction” aka it did the literal opposite of what it was meant to, because the injections pissed off my immune system so much it went scorched-earth on whatever it could. Mostly my thighs, since that’s where the injections were. I still get stabbing pain in them and it’s been over a year. [No, I don’t think I can sue Humira over this. Though I have discussed it w/ my Dr.]

This also means that if I do get sick, it’s bad news. Something strong and unique like COVID? Death. Deaaaaaaaaath. Would likely trigger something called a “cytokine storm” aka my immune system nukes everything and my organs die and so do I.

So guess whoooooooo’s been locked up at home for almost a full year now? :’)

I luckily am able to work from home, though it barely pays the bills, and my health has suffered from a lack of being able to Do Stuff I normally would.

As a result I decided to get back in touch with myself.

It started with Second Life, because of course it did. A new dragon avatar came out. Shiny and mesh and easy [by SL standards] to modify. So me and a few friends [some kin, some not] made a group for sharing stuff for the av and just hanging out. It’s fallen by the wayside unfortunately but those nights spent chilling in SL with a bunch of other dragons roaring and goofing off felt really really good.

And then I made a kin Twitter. [And found some exceptionally cool kinfolk in the process.] 

Then came Othercon the virtual otherkin convention and OtherConnect, the Discord spawned from the community that rapidly formed within the con. Othercon felt incredible. Panels and lectures about the history of otherkinity and alterhumanity and how we are today and rep in the media and just so! Much! Cool! Stuff! And tons of great kinfolk too! 

To not only be within a community but seeing others like me and speaking with them, not just typing back at words on a screen. It was...so very, very reaffirming. It felt like a second awakening almost. I wanted to cry for finally, truly not feeling alone.

And now I’m here. Because I need to be. Because something, deep down, is telling me I’m going to be needing myself sometime soon. So I’d better get started.

I hope I don’t drift away on the tide again. I’ve missed this site, worse for wear as it is.

But I’m a bit tired today. A nasty headache lingering from yesterday’s nastier flare up. Accursed cold fronts. I used to enjoy them but not so much these days. Ah well.

I know there wasn’t much kin talk in this first entry, but as I said, we had a lot of catching-up to do!

[shaorankun]

Guardian Chapter 86 Translation (Guo Changcheng and Chu Shuzhi’s part)

I am currently reading Guardian (鎮魂) and when I got to Chapter 86 in the fan translation (I prefer reading in English) they did not translate this entire part. I only did a light google and didn’t find a proper translation for this so I decided to just complete it myself. I didn’t want to read the rest of the story with a chunk missing, haha. Sharing my labour here for anyone else who might be wanting to read this missing part. I didn’t know where to post this so tumblr it is...

(credit: I’m using the same title from the fan translation I’m reading)

Chapter 86: The Paper-white Face of The Young Ghost King Reflected All of His Desires, Saying Frankly, “Good-looking. I want to hold you.”

Chu Shuzhi did not think that when he returned to Dragon City the first person he would see was Guo Changcheng.

He was just released from his shackles and got back his past items that were forcibly taken by Hell. He was in a good mood. Taking advantage of the Chinese New Year break, he found a wild mass grave1 and retreated for a few days. It wasn’t until he received Wang Zheng’s message that Zhu Hong was planning on resigning that he hurriedly bought a train ticket and rushed back to Dragon City.

The crowd at the train station was bustling. Chu Shuzhi walked forward for a while, looking in all directions for a taxi, and saw Guo Changcheng’s familiar figure—the young man was carrying a huge woven bag, his body was almost curled into a ball2 and he was slowly wiggling about with difficulty.

Just by looking at Guo Changcheng you could tell he did not do much physical work. When he went to school he probably had mediocre grades in Physical Education too. Carrying a big bag, he looked like a snail carrying a heavy shell. People passing by couldn’t help but turn and look at this young man.

Chu Shuzhi was worried he recognized the wrong person at first. Glancing again, he stared at what should have be a sturdy nylon bag open up with a small gap. A lady selling corn at the roadside kindly warned, “Hey, young man, your bag is going to spill!”

Guo Changcheng turned to the voice, but probably because his things were too heavy, when he turned his body he didn’t pay attention to his feet and he stumbled into a luggage being pulled by a young lady who just happened to pass by. Guo Changcheng was flustered and before he could apologize, the young man next to the lady aggressively pushed him. “Watch it, where are you stepping?”

Guo Changcheng was already not standing steadily and once he stumbled, the ‘city wall’ behind his back rumbled and fell. The bottom of the nylon woven bag broke apart and a bunch of outrageous items noisily fell out, including pots, pans, plates and plastic bags of food and clothing. The weirdest thing was that there was also an approximately sixty centimeters in diameter and eight centimeters thick large wooden cutting board—he was basically carrying a mini Walmart.

The young man who pushed him probably just stepped from person to person to fight out a path through the crowded train station. Seeing Guo Changcheng wearing dusty old clothes, he regarded him as a migrant worker returning to the city, and was suddenly disgusted and inexplicably felt a sense of unspeakable superiority. With one hand he was pulling the lady next to him to leave and at the same time complaining, “Knowing there’d be a lot of people and still bringing so much stuff. Are you an idiot? Can you afford to pay for damaging this luggage?”

Guo Changcheng repeatedly apologized. Seeing all the items had fallen on the ground, almost looking stupid, he hurriedly crouched down to pick them up. As he saw the nylon woven bag spill from both ends, he was at a loss and helplessly grabbed his own hair, worried.

It was at that moment that a somewhat skinny hand reached over and easily took both ends of the nylon bag and made a dead knot, making it into the shape of a cloth bag, then placed the junk in the middle of it. Weighing downwards, it looked the same as holding a SpongeBob. With one hand he was able to wrap up the pieces of heavy items.

Guo Changcheng: “Chu Ge3!”

If he had a tail, his wagging could’ve been used as an electric fan. He suddenly forgot that the one standing in front of him was The Zombie Corpse King—in Guo Changcheng’s view, Chu Shuzhi was practically a saviour who fell from the sky.

Chu Shuzhi ignored him. While holding the large nylon bag with one hand, he turned towards the young man who hadn’t gone too far, and with not a good look on his face he said, “The one in front, I advise you roll back here and apologize.”

Usually when Chu Shuzhi was normal it was fine, but when his face sunk he was particularly scary, almost naturally wearing a hint of the vicious gloom of a fugitive. The young man who was just fierce looked at him, appearing fierce but was weak inside, and said, “What else do you want?”

Just as Chu Shuzhi was about to walk towards him, Guo Changcheng held onto him. “Chu Ge, Chu Ge let’s go. It was I who didn’t see just now. I’m sorry.”

Uneasy, he raised his eyes to the other and smiled, holding onto Chu Shuzhi’s cold hand. “My fault, my fault.”

The two in front cussed as they left, completely unaware that they just escaped a crisis.

Chu Shuzhi turned around and looked at Guo Changcheng and thought that not only was he so much of a saint that he was an idiot4, he was pretty much messed up in the brain. To be at this stage of no temper and no courage, even if one didn’t say he didn’t seem like a young and vigorous man, he simply didn’t even seem like a person.

Chu Shuzhi irritably broke away from his hand and pointed at the bag of groceries in his own hand. “Does your family have nothing to eat, that they’re making you spend the New Year selling groceries?”

“No, I’m helping someone deliver this. I didn’t expect the bag to suddenly break.” Guo Changcheng eagerly followed him but also felt rather embarrassed. “I, I, let me carry it, it’s not much further.”

Chu Shuzhi impatiently avoided his hand and frowned. “Lead the way.”

Guo Changcheng immediately was too scared to utter a sound and walked ahead in small steps, leading the way.

Passing by the street in front of the station, they made multiple turns and entered a small alley. They arrived at a shadowed zone of the bustling city. Inside the alley was a row of dilapidated single-story houses. Walking deep inside, a female student with a ponytail was standing at a door, sweeping the floor with a broom. When she saw Guo Changcheng she very happily greeted him, exposing the college break volunteer sign around her neck.

Guo Changcheng felt a little embarrassed when seeing the girl and unnaturally lowered his head. Sounding like a mosquito, he buzzed, “Hello.”

The young lady was not inattentive and seeing Chu Shuzhi holding a big bag, she immediately dropped the broom and helped him open the door. As she walked she asked Guo Changcheng, “Have you registered them? Did you print it out? We have to express gratitude to each person on the internet.”

Guo Changcheng, this boy, he was very slow when he did things and he wasn’t clever. At the unit the always-rushing-them-Zhao would get angry and directly scold him. But in the end when he finished, it was always done very earnestly and meticulously. The reports written, no matter how long or how important or how much paper was wasted, never had a single typo. Slowly, even their nitpicky leader couldn’t say anything.

Guo Changcheng promptly nodded and took out a pile of printed paper from his bag. In total there were seven to eight pages. On them were detailed records of who donated, what was donated, the donor’s contact address, phone number, internet name, e-mail and other information. The value of the donated items varied from Chinese Yuan5 to a Chinese cabbage. It was simply odd and by no means an isolated case.

It turns out this was led by a few of Dragon City’s universities. They were taking advantage of the winter break and came together with some social service groups to organize and create this volunteer operation called “For the Old, For the Young6”. On Guo Changcheng’s side, they specialized in targeting the elderly at the lowest rung of society who, due to various reasons, lost their ability to make a livelihood. In small groups, each were responsible for the long-term care for a set of elderlies.

Because Guo Changcheng was unable to communicate with people, he was unable to take the responsibility of relieving the boredom of the elderly so he ended up with the job of collecting donations from society. Fortunately, the volunteer team had more girls so he was able to help greatly with some physical tasks, using this break to act as a porter.

Chu Shuzhi helped them place the objects down. As it was along the way, he started Guo Changcheng’s car and brought him along to No. 4 Bright Avenue. Guo Changcheng’s palms were damaged by the rubbing of the nylon bag; he sat at the passenger seat quietly and used a wet towel to wipe it.

Since it was rare for Chu Shuzhi to be in the mood to talk, he said a few words to him. “You’re still caring about anyone, are you trying to deliver all living creatures from difficulty?”

Guo Changcheng widened a pair of ignorant eyes and looked at him with astonishment.

Chu Shuzhi changed the question. “Doing this kind of stuff, does your family know?”

Guo Changcheng silently shook his head.

Chu Shuzhi incomprehensively laughed. Then he said, “Then on New Year’s Day did you burn some incense? The way you are, your wishes would easily come true.”

Guo Changcheng shook his head again. He was extremely satisfied with his current life. Apart from his family and friends being safe and healthy, there was nothing else he’d ask for—right now his family and friends seemed safe and healthy so he thought it was better to not trouble Buddha.

Chu Shuzhi took advantage of the traffic light and tilted his head to glance at him. Guo Changcheng was not tall, not strong and also not handsome. His facial features could not be said to be good looking. He was usually very low-key and didn’t own even a single brand name piece of whatever common youngsters thought was popular. Basically you would be unable to find his type in a crowd of people. Because there was always a lack of confidence, there was absolutely never any class.

However, when he sat down and quietly didn’t say anything, his calm expression revealed something unspeakable, natural Zen.

Although Guo Changcheng was a mortal, wine and meat passing his intestines every day, he didn’t understand what practicing spiritual development was, he didn’t even understand all the words in scriptures, and all of the Buddhist Arhats in the entire world were only known through the popular TV show Journey to the West where he only recognized two of them: one Guanyin, one Tathagata. Due to a problem with the actors, even now there was doubt towards the gender.

But Chu Shuzhi could sense that he was acting without regard for others and was peacefully and quietly building something.

It was neither the well-being of this life nor the virtue of the next life.

With Chu Shuzhi’s eyesight and cultivation, he only hazily had a feeling. As for what it was specifically, he couldn’t clearly tell.

Despite Chu Shuzhi not understanding what Guo Changcheng was thinking when doing these things, it didn’t stop the sudden uncomfortable feeling in his heart. There seemed to be a bit of resentment and dissatisfaction.

Even without mentioning anything else, with this child being covered from head to toe in three chi7 thick of virtue, shouldn’t he be living a peaceful and happy life? Why was it that he was born with an unlucky fate? Although everyone knew The Book of Life and Death regarded merits and demerits as very much nonsense, yet didn’t Hell use it rather brazenly?

He stopped speaking. His fanboy Guo Changcheng also didn’t have the courage to actively bring up any topics. The two of them remained silent all the way to No. 4 Bright Avenue. The curtain of night had already descended and all human and ghosts were present.

Once Chu Shuzhi entered the Criminal Investigations division, what came into view first was a group of demon and ghosts with a pair of blank eyes, as if they were collectively hit by a lightning strike.

Before he could even ask what was going on, he saw Wang Zheng turn her head over, trembling as she asked, “Chu Ge, did you know of the matter that Teacher Shen… Shen Wei, was really the Ghost Slayer?”

Chu Shuzhi froze for a bit. After a while, he calmly said, “Oh, that moron Zhao Yunlan, what is he doing that he didn’t come? Where is he? Ran away after messing things up?”

Da Qing was on the side and meowed, “He plunged into Wang Chuan waters.”

Chu Shuzhi: “……Love problems? Suicide?”

Da Qing and Zhu Hong had gotten over the initial shock and already calmed down.

Zhu Hong knew that Zhao Yunlan had on him the Water Dragon Pearl and any place that had water would not be able to harm him. She had just placed the Water Dragon Pearl around Zhao Yunlan’s neck and it was already being used. Zhu Hong felt that if she was a little more suspicious, it would feel like her Snake Uncle Four already knew of something beforehand.

Zhu Hong said, “My guess is that he’s looking for the Ghost Slayer.”

Chu Shuzhi took a quick look and saw that other than Lin Jing, who was still out in the field and already said he’d be taking the midnight train, the No. 4 Bright Avenue members were already all present. With both hands in his pocket, he leaned back against the office door. “I think, let’s have everyone talk about what they separately know. It’s been a mess recently. Let’s focus on the information and figure out what’s really happening. What to do—”

Speaking until here, Chu Shuzhi’s voice suddenly paused, his complexion suddenly didn’t look too good. This made everyone very nervous: “What did Chu Ge think of?”

“Wait, Shen Wei is the Ghost Slayer?” Chu Shuzhi’s face turned green. After a while he muttered, “Fuck I’ve messed up. I’ve teased him so many times before!”

……That’s why they sometimes say that being super calm was just your reflex arc taking too long.

---

野墳坡亂葬崗 [Yě fén pō luàn zàng gǎng] - Not really sure how to translate this. My best guess is it’s a random unmaintained grave. Probably some area with lots of dead bodies like after a war or something.

His body almost bent into a period. A period in Chinese looks like a hollow circle: 。

哥 [Gē] – Brother

Here Chu Ge was thinking that Guo Changcheng ‘Holy Mothered to idiocy’, he holy mothered so much he became ill. Holy mother being The Holy Mother; The Virgin Mary or a goddess.

人民币 [Rén ​mín ​bì] – Renminbi; China’s currency. Yuan is the unit. ‘Chinese Yuan’ is used in international contexts to refer to renminbi.

The name is 老吾老、幼吾幼 [lǎo wú lǎo, yòu wú yòu] – This probably comes from the phrase “老吾老，以及人之老，幼吾幼，以及人之幼” (lǎo wú lǎo , yǐ jí rén zhī lǎo , yòu wú yòu , yǐ jí rén zhī yòu) meaning to honour the elderly as we do our own aged parents and to take care of other’s children as if our own.

尺 [chǐ] – (unit) Chinese foot. It is 1/3 of a meter.

The rest of the chapter can be found here.

[iesorno]

We spoke to Adam a little while ago about his influences and inspirations and found his answers intriguing, so we decided to dive in and dig a bit deeper. We just kept on going with it all until we ended up with a mammoth interview going into every corner of his mind, from practice and accessing his creativity, to grafting to make a living outside of the norms of the mainstream.

I think it’s a fascinating look into the practice, experiences and the will to succeed that powers Adam, as well as a window into the wider world of underground creators.

WARNING – GORE and some SEX

You can find Adam here

webstore                youtube                facebook

  ZL – Hi Adam! Thanx for agreeing to this interview, hope you enjoy it. 

Let’s get introductions out of the way. For anyone that doesn’t know, can you tell us your name, where you grew up and where you currently live?

AY – My name is Mr. Adam Yeater. I grew up a swamp rat in Florida and traveled around a lot. I finally settled down in Arizona as a desert rat. I went from one Florida to another. 

ZL – For a little bit more background. You clearly enjoy underground and mini comix, so how did you first find out about them and what were you interested in before you started reading them?

AY – I discovered zines through the early Death/Grind Metal scene in the 90s. There was no internet so everything was done via snail mail. I used to get so much great printed matter. Demo tapes, fliers for bands, albums and review zines. I eventually started my own zine called Subliminal Message. We lived in Ohio in a shit hole little town. Trying to get high, fighting, reading comic books, listening to Metal, Punk Rock, Hardcore Rap and skateboarding.

I was a very industrious broke ass 14 year old kid. I found a way to get some of the mainstream metal record companies to send me promo stuff for their bands for review. I was getting stacks of stuff in the mail. The record companies were mailing backstage passes to me! My mom thought I was running a mail scam.

I once did a phone interview with Chris Barnes when he was in Cannibal Corpse. Chris called for an interview and my mom picked up the phone. He was like “Are you a fucking kid? Holy shit! I usually do interviews with old dudes?” We talked for an hour and half about Metallica selling out. It was amazing. I idolized these weirdos and was getting to just hang out with them. 

I did an interview with Cro-Mags right when the original singer got out of prison. I did an interview with Entombed for my high school newspaper! I even interviewed the Goo Goo Dolls when they were on Metalblade Records just for the hell of it. Those metal bands were my heroes. They treated me as an equal and I was this punk kid. They all encouraged me to keep at it. I was getting first hand knowledge of trying to make a living as a creative in American society from them. The good and bad. 

ZL – What did it feel like the first time you ever spoke to one of your heroes? It must have felt pretty excellent, right?

AY – It was awesome talking to those bands, it was a real rush. I would get so nervous. I got to hang with some of the bands before and after the shows. All these dudes just embraced me as one of them. I am super tall, so I looked a lot older than I was. I was also a big nerd for the metal scene so I was turning them onto all this other new stuff I was getting. I think they saw me as an oddity. Then we moved to Tucson where there was no metal scene. 

ZL – Is that why you stopped making your zine then, moving to Tucson?

AY – Yeah, moving from Ohio to Arizona. The scene was pretty lame in AZ. No bands would come through Tucson at the time. So I ditched the ‘zine and started a Grindcore band with some friends. We did pretty well for a local death metal act. We played shows with Napalm Death and smoked a ton of weed with Sadistic Intent, that was cool. 

Lots of drugs and drama, bandmates stealing from each other. . . even more drugs. It was a very fucked up time in my life that I am happy to have survived. 

ZL – At what point did you get back into zines and start to think that self-publishing comics was something you could do or that you were good at and wanted to do more with, to just keep going and going and see how far you could take it?

AY – After the band and metal zine I started printing my own mini comics and comic books. I really got into self publishing and art because I had nothing else really. My last “legit” job was as a janitor before I decided to do art and publish full time. I figured I would rather starve as an artist than starve scrubbing shit off toilets. Art is the only thing I have ever been really good at. So I just keep doing it. 

ZL – Circling back to get a bit more from your background for a minute, what first turned you into a comic reader and from there, did you move to be a collector or fan, if that distinction makes sense!! And where in all of that did you start making your own comics?

AY- I was into comics a lot when I was young as a collector and fan before I moved into extreme music. I was keeping up with the medium but was focused on the death metal band I was in.

After the band. I was doing paintings and fine art for quite a while. I had also done comics on the side but my fine art was doing well. Then the housing market crashed and nobody was buying art for foreclosed homes. 

Luckily I had been doing an extreme comic strip in the metal ‘zines and in the mini comics I was doing. I saw that a local comic convention had started. So I printed them all up and booked a table. I sold out of my first printing and a bunch of art. That is when One Last Day started. 

ZL – How did that feel, selling out of books like that? I’m guessing it must have been quite a boost as you carried on and set up an online store! What was the convention like, if you remember at all, did you have a good time there chatting and meeting fans and creators? A lot of people talk about how much the community at a convention matters to them, was that important to you at the time?

AY – It was a real boost. From that little bit of seed money I have been able to keep the ball rolling and have kept printing comics ever since. The comics scene in Tucson in the early 90s was really small and bare bones. It was me and like 2 other indie guys actively printing their own comics. I have encouraged and fostered so many people to make their own comics since then. Many writers and artists from the Tucson scene are now in the mainstream and indie comics system. 

The couple who started the Tucson Comic Con have been the best thing for our local comix and art scene. Rather than neglecting local and indie comics they embraced and promoted them. I was so lucky to be in a place where the local comic convention focused heavily on independent comic artists. 

I see kids that I taught inking classes to that are now publishing their comics on Amazon. Kids that now give me their books and thank me for all the support and inspiration I gave them. It is humbling. Before the ‘rona I was leaving 1000s of mini comics all over town instead of fliers for the last 15 years. It has exposed people in this town and state to my art and a world of comic books they never knew existed. 

ZL – Speaking of coronavirus, I’m wondering how much that has affected your income currently? Do you rely heavily on con sales or do you have a whole set of ways to get sales, which is a terrible way of asking that I’m really interested in how you generate sales for your work, what venues and sources and what sort of percentage of sales comes from them. Have you got a regular set of fans that buy everything, are you using email communications, just facebook?

AY – In today’s art and comics world every successful artist has to be a little bit Andy Worhol and a lot of P. T. Barnum. Otherwise nobody will give a shit about you. So I have a ton of different ways to move my stuff. The website is my main hub but I do small zine fests and shows whenever I can. I have been doing OK but had to switch gears during the crisis. My online sales picked up so that helped a lot. I also have new books coming out all this year. I think that helps too.

Comic conventions at one time were a really good source of income when I first started doing them. I was making great money. Every year it has become progressively less of a viable option for creators like me. The big comic shows are just pop culture festivals. The last few years a lot of the larger shows could care less about indie comics. Table prices and entry fees are way too high for a self publisher or upcoming creator to make any money. Especially out of state shows. Hotel, travel, etc. Because of this I was only doing smaller zine/comic shows and focusing on my online sales already. The virus was a great reason to really focus on my online presence. 

ZL – I first saw your work through a facebook group, one of the indie comics groups that sort of specializes in small press superhero and space operas, and I was wondering whether you think those groups help the creators reach more readers, or whether they are all more community pages as in it’s all people that want to make comics and they’re all working to support their own bubbles? (Obviously I’m exaggerating a little, they often have horror and then there’s oddball work that pops up, but there do seem to be a lot of big boob bad girls and massive muscles in some kind of genre thing. )

AY- I look at social media differently than most. I talk shit about comics on it but I have never used it as a political soapbox or a place to talk about my “personal journey”. I post my art and comix. That is it. I speak through my art. I like to “post and ghost”. I feel I am a healthier person for it. 

This year I have slowly been taking my art off all the platforms. They are not an unbiased purveyor of ideas. Like the original internet was intended for. Social media is making us all sick. Scientifically proven sick. 

I have grown to hate the self imposed censorship imposed on social media by advertisers and cancel culture. We as artists should have the right to dictate our expression by taking risks. Without having to worry about some simp nerd in Silicon Valley shadow banning or blacklisting us. 

These leeches profit heavily on ALL of us. Especially artists. They work to infringe on our rights and hinder our freedom to express. The platforms are privatizing our existence. Fakebook and the Twits are just digital emotional vampires. 

They should be paying you a fee to use your content and sell it to their stupid advertisers. They make billions off you and you know what you get, a little dopamine for that “like”. Wow, sweet trade off. Not!!

We all need to stand up in some way as artists. Post fucked up art and weird shit all the time! I wanna see a sea of artistically drawn dicks and vaginas. Shitposts, and fucked up memes on my “news” feed. Random acts of artistic defiance. We need confrontational art more now than ever! I want to see original artwork that pushes against cultural dogmas and shitty societal norms. 

Instead I see oceans of fan art and trash pop culture mashups. Useless e-rage and cat pics. Art without confrontation is just advertising at this point. 

ZL – Now, that’s an interesting one, because there are two sides to the argument on this and I sort of flop wildly between the two without any great reason. I can see why social media is not going to allow seas of dicks – they are easy triggers to SEE, so they’re easy to switch off to maintain acceptability, it seems pointless to me, but is important to a lot of people, so… There’s also the issue of managing genuine freedom to express and people posting images of tentacles raping 6 year old girls and how you manage to monitor that, so it’s just EASIER not to try and figure it and blanket ban it all. 

What I think calls bullshit on their motives for me is that they’ll censor that, but allow neo-nazi lies or channels where people openly spout homophobic, racist or sexist bile. There’s a stinking dichotomy there that calls a lie to their talk of community and keeping us safe from damaging content. 

I certainly wouldn’t want to have to be the poor sod that sifted through all of this stuff to check it though!

Pippa Creme and the Pearl Necklace – Dexter Cockburn

Equally, with work like yours or – to call in someone else I follow who is always getting bumped from facebook – Dexter Cockburn – who does some great porn comics. I see these things as being completely ok and not deserving of banning, but seeing cape comics and how innately sexualised and soft porn like the women are made to look, that makes me feel very dubious, it seems wrong in that context, as it’s so pervasive and so unspoken and clandestine. 

AY – Exactly. It is weird how the mainstream sexulizes it’s heroes. The guys look just as bad. It is a form of repressed erotica. I think it all looks so funny. Balloon shaped breasts or the massive man bulge. There is a big market for that stuff so more power to them. 

It just seems erotica in comix is ok for some and not others. The censorship online is selective. Dexter is a comix friend of mine and a great example. The guidelines are so ambiguous and filled with jargon it becomes nonsense. 

I totally get censorship for criminal reasons. That is a no brainer. What I saw was not that. 

I saw the platforms actively destroy the online followings of some extreme horror artist’s I was following. Some of us had built large fan bases on Myspace and brought our fans over to FB with us. When FB started shutting accounts down it crushed a lot of those artist’s online communities and sales. A lot of artists had to start all new accounts with different names causing them to lose 1000s of followers. Some just gave up or stopped posting extreme art all together. They are still doing it to some of the Ero Goro artists from Japan. It is really fucked up.

ZL – That’s part of the curse and benefit of social media though, they give and then they take away when you’ve made them successful. I do wonder what we can do about that though, maybe they should migrate back to Myspace, maybe the whole retreat to mailing lists is the answer? I don’t know, we need community spaces but we need them to not go dark and end up being hiding places for crime or the dark web. What do you do about it, eh? Maybe you should start curating work into new mail lists and have link sites for different peoples’ interests!!

AY – I like that idea. I have always wanted to do a monthly brochure of underground creators. Like a double sided mailer. I might do one for the Smalll Press Express to hand out at shows. Getting the word out is why I do the YouTube channel. Nobody is shedding light on the best part of comics. The odd, voiceless, strange and marginalized. I think anything that promotes the underground scene and unites indy comic artists is good. I feel every little thing helps. We are all in this sinking ship together. The mainstream comics people keep poking holes in the boat. The indy creators have to keep bailing it out.

ZL – Moving on from that unanswerable conundrum… Is community important to you and comics? Is publishing and buying and communicating with other creators a way of building a place in the wider world for the kinds of things that you enjoy and the kind of things you want to make?

AY – What community. The comics community? 

It just saddens me so much lately. The internet and social media had so much potential to dissolve physical, cultural and social boundaries to our communication around the world. 

Instead most people have developed the attention span of a gnat. I doubt anyone will actually read all this. So I am just gonna lay it all out. How I see it as an outsider looking in.

There is a massive world of art and comics that is ignored in the west. It is where I exist as a creative. I work with toy making friends in South Korea and send comix pages to Artizines in Spain. Send instant messages to slap sticker artists in Japan. All in a few seconds!! This used to take weeks, even months via phone and mail. Many here just take this shit for granted. 

I had a “stick poke” tattooist from Taiwan ask if she could use one of my mini comic images in her little shop. How sick is that!! I live for that!!

I have worked with 100s of the most creative and amazing artists from all over the world. I have had enough love and inspiration from the global art community to last me two life times!!

  The American comics community is a weird story. My books sell well. My fans are awesome. First time readers always come back. I do really well at every comic convention I have ever done, even small ones. I have printed, sold or given away thousands of my mini-comics, floppies and magazines. All over this crazy earth. 

Somehow I have largely existed as an outsider in Western comics. Other than a few supportive cats in the southwest comics scene like Brian Pulido. I feel like they largely just ignore my comics. I have had a few pros refer to my work as ‘zines’ as a sort of insult. 

I started Blood Desert as a big middle finger to the whole corporate comics crowd. The main character is stuck with a permanent middle finger. Good luck co-opting that sucktards. 

When I complete the World of Knonx series I wanna only make comics that are a massive fuck you to that whole unimaganitive self indulgent English centric corporate comics world. I wanna make comics for shitheads all over the world like me.

Most of the comics in the mainstream indie world are leftovers from that hokey auto-bio movement. All of them are still pining over Crumb and Pekar to this day. 

Who knew making super boring comics about your masturbation habits and history no one cares about would be considered as works of high literary art. I guess it is an easy claim to make when the critics also work for the publishers of said high grade comic “art.”

That is just the indy crowd. At this point most people’s knowledge of modern comics comes from dopey stupor hero comics and movies that are made for mouthbreathers by ex-television writers. 

These books are made by “Professional” comic book writers that get top billing over a bunch of lazy artists. These are the same “professionals” who waste their time all day on Twitter and YouTube race baiting each other and blathering nonsense about politics. Somehow they can never seem to get books out on time or any real work done. Go figure. 

Can we all just agree that the comics Youtubers are totally obnoxious. Normal people do not care about all your dumb nerd drama. The “comics news” channels love to foment drama in the industry to make money off of more views. They live to promote division among creators. Mind numbing 4 hour live streams of inane political blather. Interviewing the same old industry jobbers about some dopey superhero comic they made 20 years ago. Effete dorks gushing jizz in their whitey tighties over their wonton nostalgia.

These formerly bullied nerds bully each other constantly online. Doxing, Blacklisting, Censoring, Attacking and Canceling each other. Bunch of grade school kid popularity bullshit. I want absolutely NO part of either side’s dysfunctional cult. These sad people must love to live in a heightened state of anxiety. 

There are 100s of amazing prolific working storytellers chomping at the bit to talk about and sell their titles. Why not interview and promote these creators. Artists who choose not to engage in either side’s petty childish games. Those creators are largely ignored or admonished for not taking sides. 

The industry seems to only want to dwell in nostalgia? A Nostalgia that actually hurts creators. I really wanna talk about Alan Moore. 

Let’s all wax about the greatness of Watchmen ONE last time and finally let it go. Watchmen is the comic book Alan Moore won’t even have in his house because of the disdain he has for the American comics industry.

Comics culture could care less about Alan. They talk about his work gushing with praise. Then they call the man a nutter behind his back. 

The majority of the comics press treated him like a clown and discounted his opinions at every turn. 

Watchmen, the comic they keep in print just so Alan does not regain any of the rights back. 

By promoting and working on Watchmen in any way they are all pretty much saying fuck you to Alan. It is just accepted by everyone. “Oh well! We should just keep screwing this dude cause we all really love those characters.” It is shameful.

Shall I go on about the other creators that were screwed by this “industry”. Seigel, Shuster, Kirby, Finger, Simon and so many more.

The House of Morons track record with creatives is just as terrible. It would take all day to list the Big two’s transgressions against their freelancers. 

All their Editors in Chief make millions while their freelancers get crumbs.

Or maybe there is hope in the price gouging comic book store owners. They did nothing but complain about Diamond and the Big 2’s scams non stop for years. Then they still lap up everything they do or make like pablum. Accepting and still embracing this constant abuse. Over and over and over. I wonder if the majority of store owners are into BDSM? 

Should I bother mentioning all the sex predators that the major comics companies have been covering for?

So now after a long career and all my hard work building a loyal following I am supposed to kiss ass and play nice as a potential artist for them. I am supposed to work on shit I don’t care about? I get to beg for a job doing interior pages for less than minimum wage and no healthcare? No thanks. I am busy building my own worlds not piggybacking on the stolen worlds of others.

The US comics “industry” is kind of a total joke to me at this point. 

ZL – It sounds like you are existing as part of a community though, maybe not an American comics community, but an international underground art community, does that seem fair to say? 

AY – I was actually becoming a big part of the community for a popular comics Youtube channel for a minute until I was excommunicated. The two creators that host the channel constantly espouse to be a bastion for indie creators. As Maury Povich likes to say…” that is a lie.” 

The channel blacklisted me because of a mini comic I did showing cartoon portraits of accused sex predators and general jerks working in the American comics industry. 

I am not part of Comicsgate or any other stupid comics cult. I am not a lecherous ogre who harasses women at comics shows. I am a boring family man who makes weird comics. I speak through my art not by posting constant drama online.

I made a mini comic that someone didn’t like. That was it. Instead of finding out my side of things related to the matter these hosts just booted the videos my comics were featured in off their channel. They also had admins remove my posts off other platforms related to them. I was blatantly censored by these “artists.”

So looking back I think it had nothing to do with that mini comic. They have featured sexually violent work like Vigil’s. My stuff is tame in comparison. I feel they were threatened by my output and my dopey little youtube channel. Which is laughable. 

I have worked tirelessly my whole career to support marginalized creators in my community and around the world for over 20 years. 

At this point I would rather work with the people who get what I do and dwell in quiet obscurity rather than work with these kinds of self-serving troglodyte hacks that are so prevalent in the medium of modern mainstream comics and the art world. 

Most of these “pro comic artists” are just glorified fan artists with a little bit of stylized skill. I think that’s why all their books are so derivative of all the other stuff in the mainstream lexicon. They dwell in constant nostalgia and their work is proof of it. 

I actually feel sorry for them. To have so little faith in yourself that you have to try to take down other artists is such a sad pathetic way to live. 

One thing you can count on with some artists and comics creators. Their egos are as fragile as glass.

Comics culture in the US is steeped in all this kind of nonsensical dogma. It has become an idiotic cult of reactionary clones with Youtube and Twitter accounts. 

ZL – Thinking about that wider world of community and how there’s always been an underground arts community and sometimes people travelled through them, often linked to universities or small art publications. Do you feel like that community is something that is now easier to achieve and to curate for yourself with social media, but it involves a lot of effort and commitment to do that and that’s why it takes those in a scene, those dug into that creative feeling, to do that kind of curation?

AY – I guess It is easier to find new stuff now, but there is a lot of oversaturation online. Lots of skilled but boring fan art. Way too much fan art online. 

All the crowdfunded stuff is pretty boring and derivative of the mainstream comics they say they hate. Plus there is a high failure rate. Very slow/low delivery rate on those projects that nobody likes to talk about.

I kind of wish the companies cracked down on all the IP theft at shows and online the way they do obscenity. Before the pandemic the comic conventions in the states sucked for indie creators because of all the fanart.

ZL – Yeah, that seems to be a big issue all round, but it’s also tricky as a lot of indie creators make bucks doing commissions of existing mainstream IP. I also think that the move from mini comics and zines to pop-culture sources and attempts to be as professional as professional comics has done a lot of unspoken damage. Yeah, sure, you get a lot of a crowd, but how many are BUYERS?

AY – That is why I stopped making any kind of fanart about 15 years ago including commissions. I think fan art and commissions are a crutch for artists to lean on.

To me it shows a lack of ability to tell stories or have faith in their own creations. They are too afraid to go all in and only make and sell their own comics. They wanna draw cool spidey pin-ups not tell stories with art. There is a huge difference between the two kinds of artists.

The best Mangaka spend their whole careers telling these long form epic stories. We should aspire to that aesthetic not do a bunch of cool variant covers. 

It is easy to draw an existing IP. The design and imaginative work was done for you. You are just a human copy machine. It takes a lot of time and faith to go all in on your own ideas. I think a lot of artists try it and just give up and fall back on selling fan art at shows.

I do great at shows without any fan art. You don’t need it. I think selling fan art actually hurts indie creators. They are selling books for our competition. 

If you just offer people something new and different and work hard to sell that work they will buy it. I offer people something that is unique. Not just another Deadpool print or sketch.

ZL – Do you see yourself as part of a comics lineage, either style or approach wise? Do you feel it’s important to leave your own mark on the world, hence the making of items rather than posting online, or are you interested in building a space for now or are you trying to just get out what needs to be got out to keep your brain quiet?

AY: Comics lineage is less of a thing now because of oversaturation in the medium. Everyone can make and print their own comics now. So the key is to have your own style of storytelling. I don’t like the autobio comics genre but at least they know how to tell a story. 

That’s why I think physical media is still very important. An artist is not curtailed by the formats of printing anymore. You can adjust your style to any kind of printing process now. It used to be the other way around.

Aesthetically I want my work to be as beautiful and be as prolific as Osamu Tezuka was. Dark and creepy as Hideshi Hino‘s. Confrontational and cooky as Mike Diana‘s. With a mad dose of the dark action of a 2000AD Magazine. 

Boiled Angel – Mike Diana

ZL – I don’t know if you’re old enough to remember the Mike Diana obscenity case and the outcome of that ridiculous situation? It was big, even in UK comic magazines at the time. I remember them telling him that he wasn’t even allowed to draw AT HOME and that they would be coming in to check that he wasn’t drawing! So, I guess there’s that as a check to what we were saying about social media silencing creators, it’s not like it’s a new phenomenon, sadly. 

AY – I started getting into making fucked up comics at the same time as him. I was making One Last Day which is nowhere near as extreme or pornographic as Mike’s stuff, but it was really violent. His case scared me into being real careful who I sent my books to. 

ZL – When did you first encounter Mike Diana’s work, then and what’s so inspiring about it?

AY- I have seen more of his work recently. I like the absolute absurdity of it. It was so hard to get out here in the west coast unless you ordered it. I am not a big fan of pornographic or cheesecake comics. I do like some of the cruder stuff that is just too weird to be arousing. The work exists more as a piece of weird art rather than porn in some odd way. I have not gotten to read a ton of his stuff. He is actually a big fan of mine on Instagram. The punk rock kid in me loves seeing a block of “likes” by Mike. I have mailed him a bunch of my comix for trade.If he is reading this “Yo man! You gotta mail me some of your books!” Heh! 

ZL – I’m also intrigued to know how you found out about 2000AD as my understanding is that it’s not well known over in the US. What’s your favourite strip from there?

AY: I got a huge run of the re printed 2000AD and Dredd comics from a comic store when I was 13. I really love the old Rogue Trooper strips the most. They were some of the best sci fi war comics made essentially. Those artists were all emulating those old Action war comics they were reading

Rogue Trooper – War Machine by dave Gibbons and Will Simpson

Rogue Trooper – War Machine is a work of comics art. It definitely inspired a lot in my Blood Desert series. “The Fatties” stories in the early Judge Dredd strips are some of my all time favorite comics. I have read them a hundred times. It is just so nuts. I love that line between absurd and gross.

The Fatties – Judge Dredd

ZL – Oh yeah, those early works were really UK punk as punk can be! I’m surprised you like Rogue Trooper more than Nemesis though, Pat Mills and especially Kev O’Niell’s art is extreme as extreme art gets in comics back then. You mention in many interviews I’ve read that Japanese comics, particularly horror comics, have been an influence. How much influence do you see from Japanese horror comics in small press and self-publishing circles, it’s something I see a lot of in the creators I follow for sure, but I’m wondering what your experience is?

AY – I follow the underground Japanese scene pretty well. I am pen pals/friends with some of the newer japanese horror artists. It is funny. They all wanna get published here and I want to get published there. 

There are huge barriers in Japanese comics for Westerners. I would kill to get World of Knonx published in Japan. It is specifically designed and made for a world audience. It needs no translation. Manga publishers should be more open to Western comic artists the way we have.

I have grown very weary of all manga flooding the market lately. Most of it is just nicer formated versions of reprints of that older stuff I read in the 80s. It is not the weird upcoming stuff you see on the shelves. 

The American publishers bend over backwards to reproduce a lot of Manga but largely ignore American artists working at the same level of productivity. It has become a one way street. 

ZL – I see that a lot of publishers seem less inclined to have cartoony horror, they seem to have decide it must all be cheesecake or more realistic, I mean, you’re not going to see the likes of Shaun McManus on Swamp Thing art chores nowadays, which seems absurd because cartooning lets you play up emotions or gore without it getting all pornographic and seedy. I wonder if part of it is that as well, they want everything in that style. It’s also something that’s changed in horror as well. You think about something like Saw and how realistic those horror movie effects are compared to, say Friday the 13th, it’s changed what horror is. You could laugh at those things, not so much Saw, they’re far more EARNEST and wanting to show things REALISTICALLY.

AY- Yes! Exactly. I have been embracing the cartoon aspect of comics very heavily. Cartooning is dying in comic books not just in the horror scene. Comics have lost the ability to move the fans to a desired emotion.

I think it has to do with the industry’s reliance on writers. Artists are usually more creative and experimental than writers. Artists think in images and writers think in words. Writers can hammer out stories all day. The storytelling artist has to really think about every panel in a conscious way and how it will move the story. Images should drive comics not inane narrative. I should be able to understand the story in a comic by just looking at the art. If not then both the writer and artist have failed. Being able to type does not automatically make your stories interesting. Kirby’s cartooning made all those comics great not Stan and his stupid dialogue. 

  Personally I don’t wanna spend 12 hours drawing the perfect building in a panel that no one will care about. I wanna move the story. Cartooning creates a fluidity through the pages that perfect structure loses. Manga is great at moving you through a story in that way. 

ZL – So, in all of the ways you make things and with all of your feelings about being a part of US comics and international makers, what place do you see your new youtube videos playing into what you do? Is it more boredom relief or is it a way of pumping up awareness of the community you enjoy?

AY: I do the YouTube channel for fun and to shed light on independent creators. I also wanna try to create a new narrative in comics. Not just regurgitate the one fed to us by reactionary corporate comix culture.

ZL – Why the trash talking of something at the end? I ask because I have this pet theory that there’s a strong link between people doing underground comics currently, especially over the top gross out ones, and wrestling and I’m wondering whether that’s a bunch of nonsense I’ve made up, or whether this is like the trash talk between wrestlers, a funny sort of way to make a point about something, to build some low stakes drama? Or, is it a way to disarm a serious point by making it funny! 

AY: A little bit of both I guess. There is some carney action to all creatives who do it for a living. I think a long life as an artist hardens you. 

Comic book artists could learn a lot from Tattooists. Talk to a hardcase who has been making money everyday drawing. The one doing it in your hometown the longest. That is someone who can teach you a lot. They have had to put up with so much stupid shit from customers and society. They have a confidence and respect for their trade few artists do. They have real confidence that is inspiring. They won’t even fuck with some stupid walk-in. They are not gonna deal with some kid who wants a shitty Mickey Mouse tat. Some hokey fan art commission bullshit. People pay them good fucking money for their original style, skill and creativity. Comic artists conceded all that when they settled for being what amounts to storyboarders for ex-TV writers. 

Artists have to always remember Western society devalues you at every turn. You really have to learn to sell your art and self. Your skin better be real thick. You hear “no” and that “you will fail” constantly! You will work your ass off just to barely make it in most creative fields. 

ZL – Yeah, that really comes with the territory, especially if you’re coming at it from an underprivileged background, art seems to still be a very middle class opportunity and still seems to need strong patronage to make a living, so if you’re aren’t populist or aren’t from the right background you need to get money from somewhere else or learn to live cheap. 

AY – Starting out it is always a struggle in any field but comics has kind of embraced and even fostered failure among it’s creatives. A perfect example. No one with the talent level of Tim Vigil’s should ever be living in poverty. Which he pretty much is. If Tim started in tattoos he would probably be pretty set by now. Instead he chose to work in comics. 

ZL – You seem to be really knocking out your comics and developing an amazing backlist. I remember sharing a video where, I think that you were drawing a page from The Lottery, where you were filling in your spot blacks with this chunky dip pen nib and that just seemed like it would take a long time to get work done! So, I’m wondering whether you’ve changed up a gear and started doing lots of work, or am I just in circles where I’m seeing you pop up and you’ve been constantly busy for a long time?

AY – I mainly use a brush for large areas. Sometimes a fat nib. I have had the same process for the last 10 years. I have always had a pretty good work ethic with my art but my tools are just that. Lots of trial and error for the first 5-10 years. I had no one to help or any training. I am a lot faster at inking with some modern stuff but it is still the same process it has always been. I try to only work full time M-F 9-5. I love creating so much I get addicted to it. I will draw 18 hours straight if I am not careful. 

ZL – What inspired you to get making, not necessarily the style you make, but the actual circumstances behind you getting yourself together to put out comics instead of just sketching or posting online? What is the difference for you between posting online and publishing?

AY – Posting online is just a form of promo to me. Online is so ephemeral. I feel printed comics and animation is the best way to tell new stories and get them out. Period. It is hard to say what inspired me to start creating. I can tell you how I create though. 

I have always hated the idea of needing drugs, a muse or constant inspiration as motivation. It is not a sustainable model. It is a crutch for lazy artists to lean on. We all can learn skills and borrow from influences to make pretty art but real creativity comes from our imaginations. 

Clive Barker said it in interview after interview for years! He spoke of how fostering the imagination is being lost and even stifled in today’s world. He stressed the utmost importance for working artists and children to have an active and focused imagination. He is the greatest living horror artist of our age. The Poe of our time and everyone completely ignored him!!

Well I didn’t! I would meditate and do mental exercises daily for years to try and imagine whole working worlds. Clive was 100% right. I don’t get artists’ block or any of that shit. 

This is gonna sound super new age but it is the best way to explain it. With short meditation techniques I can light the fire of creativity instantly now. It can keep me awake some nights if I let it. My mind’s eye fills with the most moving and colorful images you could ever imagine. I have learned to embrace it and snatch stuff from the ether. It’s like a true form of art magick. When I break into the astral plane of endless creativity it recharges my inner being and overwhelms my soul with love, and joy. I am flooded with new ideas constantly. The Buddhists actually have a name for this place but the name escapes me. 

ZL – I remember reading that Moebius, Jean Giraud, the French comic artist took a similar approach, that he drew all his Moebius strips in a semi-conscious state of meditation, so it seems reasonable for you to do the same! 

AY – Exactly! I have read that and felt a kinship with him. I think Jim Woodring works in a similar fashion as well. 

ZL – Yeah, I’ve read that about Jim Woodring as well.

Looping back a second to The Lottery, I really admire the style of character design, the shapes you put down on the page, that I’ve seen in that. I’m guessing, from what you’ve just said, that much of these things arrive semi or fully formed? How much planning do you put into character design and story content and then could you give a general idea to how you approach a story and what you’re trying to achieve with your stories?

AY: Like I said prior, the initial ideas will come like a flood or in pieces. I will mentally “hang on” to my favorite ideas and build a story around them. Once I get most of it all sorted out in my brain I will do some general super loose thumbnails of a story or idea or the whole book. Sometimes I will start with a one shot style story and expand on it. The one shots will inspire more stories or ideas for other worlds as well. 

ZL – I know we touched on this earlier, but I’d like to dig deeper into whether you’re making money and what sort of sales you’re achieving, because, you know, I’m just damn nosey! More seriously though, I think part of making and why people cease making is an unrealistic idea of what can be achieved within an arena. The amount of people coming into comics and underground comix all thinking they’ll end up on Adult Swim or bankrolling a comfortable life always saddens me. You know they will get worn out banging their drum to sell 10 copies and lose hundreds because they completely over print. 

Which is a very tortured way of asking whether you make money from your comics or, at least break even? Are you happy to tell us numbers of sales and if not exact amounts of income, what sort of percentage of your income comes from your comic sales and for context, the kind of lifestyle you currently live?

AY: I grew up pretty poor. I was out on my own at around 17 with zero money. So it has not been an easy road for me in art and comics. I am not complaining, I have made good money off my comix.

I print modestly with print on demand services. I can print a few copies up to a few 100 at a time. It just depends on demand. You don’t need to have a warehouse of stuff. I focus on the stuff that does well.

It took a long time but I am in a great spot on my own. Because of the virus a lot of the mainstream crowd are kind of sitting around with their dicks in their hands. While I am hammering out stories. I am 100% owner of all my titles. I am not an LLC so a corporation can’t get my “creative content” without my direct consent. 

Luckily I don’t really need them. I have done the math, I make way more per page and book then I ever would with a publisher. I can create, print, promo, mail and repeat. I have no need for censors, editors, publishers, stores, mob run distro or other middle men. They are all just standing between me and making the profit from my books. 

No one will admit it, but the Cerebus model is still the best model for creators to sell their comics. If you are serious about ownership. More people should have the same faith in their work as Dave Sim does. Only without being a total jerk. 

ZL – I’m guessing your politics don’t mesh with his, but I think Dave Sim is definitely someone who has lessons for self-publishers and creators alike. If you were going to pass on any of his advice, how would you summarise what you’ve taken from his example?

AY – His politics aside he was pretty cantankerous in most of his interviews but he was not afraid to speak his mind. Everyone is so afraid to speak up in fear of never getting or keeping that “sweet corporate comics gig”. 

Dave was right about a lot of stuff. If you can’t stand up for your own work then who will? Before I started reading all his interviews I thought he was just a jerk but now I kind of get his anger. I could only imagine what the mainstream tried to pull back then when they saw he wouldn’t play ball. What’s worse is nothing has changed really. All the shit he was raving about in comics is the same or even worse. 

I think he was really hated by the industry when he started speaking out about all the shadiness going on. It always felt the comics press started attacking his political stances after he started to state his opinions about the practices of some of these publishers. I don’t agree with him on a lot of stuff politically but he never backed down and stayed true to his ideals. I admire him for that. 

Comics has a long sordid history of trying to silence voices they don’t want to hear. It has happened to me and many others still to this day.

ZL – How long has it taken to build up your back catalogue and what sort of tail end do you currently see on your titles, are we talking release and then forget it, sustained sales over months/years or occasional bumps when you get new titles out?

AY – It took 20 years to build the whole catalogue of large format stuff. I have printed 100s of different minis along the way. I now just mainly sell my larger format floppy and magazine stuff that does well continuously. I do have a goal to be able to fill a whole small magazine size comic book box with all my different floppy comics and mags. 

ZL – And how far away from that goal are you? 

AY – I have never actually checked. I would say I am well over halfway there. 

ZL – How do your sales and income compare to where you thought you’d be when you first started making your comics or did you not really care about that, other than not losing money?

AY: It is a weird thing that exists in indie comics. It is like they are ashamed of making money. 

You hear so much altruism in indie comics. “It is not always about the money man.” Tell that dumb shit to a career tattooist. They will laugh in your stupid face while they make $200 bucks an hour and drive off in their fully customized Dodge Challenger. While you stand there with a handful of comics and empty pockets. 

We should look at indy comics like tattooing or a little like a one man touring metal band or rap act. People wanna buy my books for my nutty unique style. So, yeah I am doing better than I ever could have dreamed of in such a dismal backwards looking field. I would rather be like a Tech 9 or Frank Zappa in comics. 

ZL – Last question, for you as a fan now, if you could get everyone in the world to read one of your books or series and a book or series by someone else, what would it be?

AY: Out of all my books I would say the World of Knonx series is my crowning achievement. I dumped every skill I have developed into one massive tale.

Park Bench – by Christophe Chabouté. It is one of the most amazing comics made in the last few years. It is one of the most beautiful comics ever made. It flows like water. It is the zen of comix. I cried the first time I read It. 

Park Bench – by Christophe Chabouté

I only make silent or wordless comics. So that is mainly what I am into. It is more common in European comics. So I try to mainly follow works coming from there. 

Comics should move us and excite us. Gross you out or move you to a new place emotionally. Not just be inane 80s TV sitcom serials. I am only interested in comics that exist and aspire to be comics. I have no interest in storyboards with dialogue. 

ZL – Thanx for your time Adam!

AY- Thanks for this in-depth interview. It is not often I get to talk deeply about things in comix that I care about. I never really get to explain how I create or how I truly feel about the medium.

I am grateful for the opportunity to speak my mind. To everyone who has ever supported me and my art. I truly frikkin’ love you all!! 

all art copyright and trademark its respective owners.

content copyright iestyn pettigrew 2020

  Adam Yeater, underground comix creator, talks in depth about his practice, his work and how comics remains closed to many outside of mainstream companies #comics #horror #underground #selfpublishing #fantasy #inspiration We spoke to Adam a little while ago about his influences and inspirations and found his answers intriguing, so we decided to dive in and dig a bit deeper.

[adorkabletodd]

Red as Ruby (Jason Todd x Reader)

 This is part 2 of my first fanfic called Green as Emerald if you’d like to, go ahead and read the first part

I was feeling a little inspired so I decided to sketch my man

 Soulmate AU! Whenever you lose something it’ll end up in your soulmate’s hands/possession. You’ll never find it again until you find your soulmate. Things you forgot existed also goes to your soulmate and vice versa.

Warnings: more curse words than before Word count: 1680

---

It’s been 3 days since my encounter with the famous Red Hood, and so far I’ve tried my best to avoid alleyways that reek of mob gangs. 

Lately, I’ve been occupying myself with twice the amount of work. I kept telling my brain that it’s for the good of my job but I know deep down it’s just an excuse to make me forget about that stone Red Hood was wearing.

Honestly, I shouldn’t believe that he really is wearing my stone, right? Lots of people probably own the same green emerald that I used to have! Though I couldn’t help but wonder.

Besides my parents, only a few of my friends would confirm that they do believe in the miracles of finding a soulmate but some hadn’t had the opportunity to ever experience them. 

...What are the odds of Red Hood being mine?

“You seem to be deep in thought, (Y/N).” I turn my head to the source of that voice and saw Garrick, my co-worker. A good guy, though I wouldn’t say we’re anything more than friends.

“Hey. Sorry, been doing a lot of thinking lately. What’s up?”

“Package just arrived for you in the mail. Sent all the way from Star City by someone named Connor Hawke” Garrick handed me a small packaged. 

“Thanks, Garrick,” I gave him a smile as I take the package from his hands. I didn’t think Connor would reach out to me so soon. Connor was one of my closest friends back home, we went to the same high school together and I always find myself comforting him whenever he had trouble with his dad. He in return helped me throughout the loss of my parents. There’s a lot of mystery to that guy after he dropped out of school I rarely get to see him but there are times where he would always find me in the most unexpected times.

Grabbing a scissor from my desk, I rip the package open and was astonished to the remaining things inside. There were a bunch of old pictures of us together back in our high school days, and a note from Connor. 

‘ Found these old photos of us when I cleaned your old apartment, I thought you might want it back. Good luck in Gotham (L/N), seriously, you’re gonna need it. Don’t be a stranger.

 PS. I also found this little treasure of yours.

- Connor H.‘

One item that stood out was what looked like a tip of a familiar pocket knife buried beneath the photographs. I held my breath once I cleared away the photos.

The pocket knife was a beautiful ruby red with a single black streak printed on the back. The handle still has those rough scratches and a couple of marks that resembles the letter ‘J’ at the bottom. God, I can’t believe I accidentally left this behind. I used to bring this everywhere I go. It became a handy tool though I don’t recall how I gain the possession of it in the first place.

By the time I didn’t realize it was already half past 5 pm. I’ve completed all of my assignments, would love to get an early leave before it gets dark.

---

On my way home I remembered that I haven’t restocked my fridge yet, right on queue: my stomach grumbled. Guess I accidentally skipped lunch again. Just across the street, I saw a fast food restaurant called the Bat Burger.

“…”

Ah hell, why not? I mean it’s not like Red Hood would mindlessly hang out in a food joint named after him and his vigilante group.

When I entered, the place seemed so flashy and colorful. Like straight out of a comic book kind of atmosphere. A lot of pop art style no doubt. Once I finally ordered I made my way near a windowed booth. A sigh of exhaustion escaped my lips, I was ready to dig into my dinner when suddenly a man sat across from me.

Startled, he seemed to be in alert. This man wore a black shirt underneath his dark gray jacket and a red cap. Even though he seems to be hiding his face with that cap, I can see the clear blue of his eyes.

“Um... Can I help you?”

When he noticed my presence, he hunches over his shoulder attempting to hide his face even further. “Sorry, didn’t mean to invade your space but could you pretend like we’re a couple of friends having dinner for just 2 minutes? Then I’ll go and you can just pretend I was never here.” Before I could even question what he meant two other men barge in from the entrance. The man in front of me held his breath waiting for an impasse. I tried my best to avert my gaze away from their peering eyes. Sliding my fries over to him slowly.

The two goons didn’t seem to notice the man in front of me before heading back outside. Once they’re gone the man made a cautious check over his shoulder before exhaling a sigh of relief. “Thanks for playing along.” He was about to reach over my fries and quickly I slap his hands away.

“Just because I helped you doesn’t mean you can actually take my food.”

He raised both of his hands in defense before letting out a soft chuckle. “Well, sliding your fries over to me, I thought you sincerely meant to share me some food.”

“What exactly was all that about?” I found myself saying the question out loud.

“Let’s just say I had a job that I needed to take care of, wasn’t as sneaky as I turned out to be.”

His hand started to fidget on the knot of his jacket string. “This your first time eating here?”

“Oh let me guess, you’re a regular here.”

“My brothers and I always come here to mock our dad, a lot of our... inside jokes came from this place.” The man took off his cap and rake his fingers through his messy hair. I notice the white streak on his jet black hair and the look just made him stood out.

“I’m Jason, by the way. Jason Todd.”

“(Y/N) (L/N).”

Normally I wouldn’t get too comfortable with sketchy guys who came to me for cover. But I gotta admit, this man is ridiculously handsome. “Not that it’s any of my business but, it’s not really safe to be alone at night in Gotham.”

“When isn’t it good time to be safe in Gotham, honestly? And I can take care of myself if that’s what you mean.”

“Oh, I have no doubt about that,” Jason smirked, his eyes gleamed with mischief.

I didn’t know how but the conversation between us continued naturally. It’s rare to find a guy like him to connect with. He’s not like anyone I’ve ever met before and from a glance, you can tell what a sly asshole of guy he can be, weirdly I don’t mind getting to know that part of him. If he’ll let me.

When I finished my burger, I wiped my lips with the napkin and slide the remainings of my french fries left to him. “Here, I’m too full to finish this, you can have the rest.” Jason looked at me doubtingly. “Seriously. Here, you’ve been a good company.”

“Well, it’s nice to know you don’t hate me yet.”

“Keep that annoying face of yours and we’ll see.”

I grab hold of my bag and place my phone inside. “Nice knowing you, Jason.” I gave him a small smile before sliding out of the booth. To my satisfaction, Jason smiled back.

Walking towards the exit, I was about to reach my hand to the door when I heard Jason’s voice.

“(Y/N), wait. You dropped – ...This.”

Turning back I saw Jason lean down grabbing something, in his hand was the red pocket knife Connor sent me. 

“Oh! good lord, not again!” I really need to keep an eye on this thing. I don’t want to lose it for the second time. “Thanks. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I lost this.”

“Does it mean that much to you?”

“Well... Not really, this thing helped me out when I needed a little tinkering. It’s one of those stuff where you can’t really let go when you have it, you know?”

“Yeah... I do.” Jason looked at me, surprised.

He looked at me as if I made him realize something, the way his eyes softens as my fingers traced the small scratches of this red pocket knife.

“You should head back. It’s getting late.” Jason said quietly.

A part of me didn’t want to leave him behind, but another part told me that I should be on my way. “Yeah... Thanks again for this, see you around Jay.”

With that, I made my way out. Urging myself not to look back. Though my eyes couldn’t help but glance back to the restaurant window, I noticed. The time I spent talking with Jason felt like we were the only ones in the room. And we were.

---

The sound of jingling key echoed the empty hallway as I unlock my door. Once I entered I turned the lights on and place my bag on the kitchen island. I made my way to the fridge to grab myself a bottle of water when I suddenly heard a single tap sound from my window.

I became anxious with the thought of someone breaking in. Cautiously I close the fridge and try to reach into my bag to grab the pepper spray. Every second I feel my heart race faster and my eyes scanned on the darker parts of my living room waiting for something to strike.

I came closer, and closer to my bag when suddenly a figure emerges from the shadow.

My mind became blank and the bottle dropped from the numb feeling in my hand.

I was face to face with Red Hood.

“Hello, angel. I believe you have something of mine.” 

---

Oof I had to cut that cuz it’s getting way too long.

Hope you enjoyed it and I have a feeling I’ll be writing part 3 to conclude this Soulmate AU. 

[sherrybaby14]

Who Am I Chapter 20

Summary:  You believe your Alphas rejected you, while they believe you no longer want them.

Warnings: Angst, smut.  This is a non-con/rape story. Please do not read if this offends you.  A/B/O Dynamics

You sat at your lab station and tried to look busy, but you kept glancing toward the door.  It had been a week since you laid eyes on another soul and were eager for Bruce’s arrival.  

Imagination and wishes were starting to blend.  It was easy to view the door opening and it not being Bruce.

“Hey Doll.” Bucky struggled to keep the smile off his face. 

“What’s wrong?” Steve stood behind him, never trying to hide the look of concern. 

“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t get the words out before you ran over to them and jumped in their arms. “I’m so sorry.” 

You blinked and the images vanished.  What would happen if you did apologize? You never really got the chance.  Maybe they would forgive you?  But that would mean risking rejection, and even though you tried to fight it, their lack of contact with you was not normal for an Alpha. It wasn’t normal for your Alphas either.  

They were staying away because they wanted to because they didn’t want you.   “Stop.” You yelled at your brain.  This was why you needed to keep busy or else this was all that filled your head. 

  Finally, the sound of keys made you rise from your workbench.  The door was locked on the outside, but you could push it open from the inside if you wanted.   You smiled as Bruce walked into the room carrying shopping bags. It was nice to see him, but the fact it wasn’t Bucky and Steve reminded you how silly your fantasies were becoming.  

“Been keeping busy?” Bruce’s voice echoed across the space. “It’s sort of creepy down here.” 

“I hadn’t noticed.” You looked around and saw most of the area was dark. “Did you bring me the chemicals?” 

“Yes, Ma’am.” Bruce dropped some bags by the fridge. “And some food too.” You frowned, carrying more about your cell splicing theory than the bland groceries.

“Your list was a little strange.  How would bromine help with your pills?” Bruce set the other bags on your work table. “I’d love to hear your theories on its impact.”

Of course, Bruce would try and interpret your list of requests. 

“Maybe someday.” You tried to shake it off. “Once I’m finished.”

  “Right.” Bruce nodded. “You probably don’t have time for scientific discussion.  I know you Y/N, eager to get back to work.” 

“Yep.” You nodded your head in agreement. At least the old you was obsessed with work.  The new one still valued science but was starting to seek more of a balanced life. 

“So any breakthroughs? Anything I can help with?” Bruce looked down at your lab space.

“I don’t think so.” You didn’t want him checking out your set up and asking questions. “What’s going on in the outside world?” 

“You haven’t searched google?” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Are you working non-stop?  Two minds are always better than one.  Why don’t you walk me through what you’ve done so far?” 

“I meant how are Steve and James?” You blurted out the first question that popped in your head and cringed, immediately regretting it. 

Bruce’s brow smoothed and his lips parts, softening his features.  At least his eyes were on you and not the table.

“I haven’t seen them.” He tilted his head. “Do you want to see them? Send a message? Anything?”  

“No.” You dropped your gaze. “Just making conversation.” 

“Y/N. I guess we’ve never really talked personal before.” Bruce scratched his head. “I know I’m a little awkward with this stuff, but I’m here if you need to talk.” Bruce tried to sound sweet, but you knew he would rather discuss particles than romance.  Your relationship had always been professional.  When he came to see you after your heat he couldn’t even say the word.

You shook your head.

“When you broke up with them they were pretty devastated.” Bruce pulled out a chair and sat down. “I brought you back here because you needed an Alpha, I didn’t know any others and I figured with your past they were the best bet.”

“And I thanked you.” You put on a fake smile, wanting this conversation to end. “But I should get back to work.” 

“Look, I don’t know much about this Alpha-Omega stuff.” Bruce held his hands up. “But based on what I know, I would say the ball is in your court.”

“Excuse me?” You knew that Bruce was missing a lot of details about how things went down with Bucky and Steve, but in what world could he think that?

“You broke up with them.  Being with an Avenger was too dangerous, right? I realize that it never occurred to me, do you want to go back to them? Because I can ask.” 

“Don’t.” You squinted your eyes shut and put your hands on the counter. 

  The last thing you wanted was to explain to Bruce about your detoxing situation with your Alphas, or how you told Loki and Tony. Plus there was no way he could comprehend their absence after your heat.  It was too much. 

“You’ve done enough, really.” You put on the fake smile again.  “But, I am eager to get back to it.” 

“Alright.” Bruce stood up. “And you’re sure you don’t want any help?”

“I’ve got this.” You went to the bags and started unpacking. “I’m fine.  Really.” “Not to add pressure, but how much longer are you thinking?” He glanced at your workspace.

“No clue.” You shook your head. “I’m trying my best, but nowhere near figuring out the compound.” 

“Well, keep e-mailing me. Call if you need anything.  I’ll check on you next week?” Bruce gave a half smile. 

“Uh-huh.” You tried to keep moving your hands to stop any sort of shake from showing.

“Okay then.” Bruce let out a loud breath and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Good thing you’re not scared of the dark.”

He walked away, his footsteps echoing.  You glanced up at him as he left, then looked around the giant empty floor.  It was pretty dark, but you’d never noticed.

  You shut your eyes and threw your head back, feeling guilty for lying and endangering him and Tony about the pills and some relief that you’d bought yourself another week. 

~~~ “Ugh.” There was a poke in Steve’s shoulder. 

“See. He’s alive.” Tony sounded far away.

Steve blinked a few times and was met with a splitting headache. He groaned and sat up, pulling his head into his arms.

“What the hell did you two do?” Tony’s voice cleared. 

Steve dropped his hands and glanced at the mess.  The brand new table was splintered, there were pieces of drywall on the floor along with human-sized dents in the wall.  

Bucky let out a groan and rolled to his side.  

A light flashed in Steve’s eye and he brought up his arms, shielding the flash and seeing Bruce with a doctor’s pen aimed at him. 

“I don’t need a check-up.” Steve started to stand. “Enhanced remember? I’ll be fine in a few hours.”

“Oh, I walked in and saw this mess, ran and got Bruce.” Tony took Steve’s arm and helped him up. “But not because you needed a doctor, because I wanted someone else to witness this scene to prove I wasn’t dreaming.” 

Steve steadied himself as Bruce helped Bucky to his feet.

“Just so we’re on the same page, you two did this to each other right?” Tony pointed back and forth. “There’s not another villain on the loose in my tower?” 

“It’s nothing.” Bucky walked towards the kitchen. “We needed to let off some steam.” 

Steve heard the water going and walked over to the sink.  Bucky placed a glass out for him and he took it, slamming the entire thing. 

“Is this about Y/N?” Bruce looked shocked. 

“It’s private,” Bucky answered. 

Steve leaned against the counter. 

“I’m guessing ten thousand in damages?” Tony held his arms up. “You do realize a large chunk of the building is currently under construction?  You two are paying for this.”

“A bunch of stubborn morons.” Bruce shook his head. “Do you guys want to see her? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.  Maybe communicating with words is better than kicking the crap out of each other?”

Steve looked to Bucky.  He’d taken the lead on things and they ended up here.  His best friend locked eyes with him and Steve dipped his chin.

“Like I said.” Bucky took another drink of water. “It’s private.”

Bruce’s mouth hung open and he slapped Tony’s arm.  Steve knew Bruce didn’t have the entire story and was certain if he heard it they would be dealing with the Hulk in a manner of seconds.  

“Well like I said.” Tony pointed at them. “You two are paying for this. Hire your own contractors.”

Tony turned and Bruce followed him.  The two of them started whispering and Steve knew it was about him, Bucky, and Y/N.  Betas could never understand.   Bucky came up and leaned on the other side of the counter. 

“You said no?” Steve knew Buck was the more sensitive one, for those few seconds he held out hope his friend would follow his heart and they would be reunited with their girl.

“You were right. I don’t want to force anything on her again.” Bucky sighed. “She had a choice, and she didn’t pick us.”

Steve stared at the ground. The feeling of dread worked its way into his bones.  If Bucky felt that way too he knew what was coming soon: acceptance.  It terrified him to let her go. ~~~     This time you were prepared.  Your chemicals were set out exactly on the counter and you had a story for Bruce regarding your lack of progress. 

Unfortunately this week you had a bit of a breakthrough on your side experiments and wished you could run your theories by him, but there was no way you could explain why you were working on that and not rediscovering your pills.  

“Hey.”  Bruce didn’t have any bags with him. 

“Hi.” You stood up straight, trying not to look nervous. 

“Make any progress?” Bruce came to your table.

“Yeah, actually.” You looked down. “I think I have it narrowed down to twelve isolated variables.”

“Good.” Bruce nodded and leaned against the table. 

“Do you want me to walk you through them?” You had spent yesterday practicing. 

In reality, you spent your week YouTubing hobbies some more. Meditation was never something you could master, but you were getting braiding your hair down.  Your favorite had been the scientific stuff, but again you needed more supplies.  

“I can’t stay long.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Y/N, are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes.” You gave a nervous laugh. “Why?”

“You seem…happy? Not being on the pills I mean.  Are you sure you don’t want to head to an Omega home?” Bruce was trying so hard to seem relaxed you saw right through it. “No offense, but you’re living alone in a dank dark basement without going crazy.  You used to be a little more uptight?” 

“No. Not an option.  I’m sorry it’s taking so long.  I’ll try to hurry it up.” Adrenaline flared.

Creepy basement or not, this was the first time you’d ever gotten to know yourself without any outside influence.  Besides that, if they forced you out of here before your heat hit you would never get a chance to see Steve and James again.

“Did you bring what I asked for? I think the acidic base could create an entirely new component.”  You needed to change the subject.

“Right.” Bruce nodded. “Actually I had another idea. It’s Tony’s birthday this weekend.  We’re all going to celebrate in Napa.”

“You’re joking right?” This was a trick. “I can’t leave the tower.”

Were they going to drag you away?  Your heart raced so hard it felt like it was going to beat out of your chest.

“Oh no.” Bruce held a hand up and waved it. “I meant, his penthouse will be empty. I thought you could use a few days of sunlight, even if its through windows. Take the weekend off.  Refresh.”  

“Are you sure?  I thought isolation was best?  What if someone sees me?” This still felt like a setup.  

You glanced towards the door and wondered if authorities were on the other side.

“It’s the weekend, most employees are gone.  All of the Avengers and close SHIELD agents are leaving for the party. I think you’ll be safe. You can trust me Y/N.” Bruce stood up straight. “A lot of them left already. My flight is in thirty minutes so I can take you up now or you can stay down here and I’ll bring your stuff on Sunday.” 

“Should I change?” You had on a pair of yoga pants and a white tank.  It was your uniform since that was all that was in the bag of clothing provided to you. Twenty pieces of the same clothing and undergarments.  “Or bring anything?”

“No. Tony knows you’re coming. It was his idea.” Bruce waved his hand over his shoulder. “Sort of a mea culpa.” 

Bruce started walking and you followed.  This was happening too fast.  You stopped.  

“Y/N, you have nothing to worry about.” Bruce kept moving when he got to the door. “But remember Tony has a pool. Live a little, take a few days off.”

You were too familiar with Tony’s pool.  After spending time with Bucky in there you assumed you were on the banned list for not following his rules.  

Analyzing every situation was how you’d always operated. Bruce was operating too fast. 

“Or stay down here, alone.  It’s up to you.” Bruce held open the door. 

Your heart lurched and stomach knotted.  Bruce dipped his chin. 

“Come on Y/N.  Let’s go.”  

Even though it didn’t compel you it was easier to listen to him and leave the basement than let your mind run over every option known to man.  

You walked down the long hallway to the elevator.  The box was waiting and both of you headed inside.  

“I wasn’t expecting this.” You didn’t want a silent elevator ride to fall back into your thoughts. “Why didn’t you mention it over e-mail?” 

“Spur of the moment.” Bruce shrugged. 

“So I’ll be all alone?” You weren’t sure if you were making small talk or trying to find out if two other people were going to be in the building.

“Steve and Bucky are coming to Tony’s party.” Bruce glanced at you. “Sure you don’t want to talk to them?”

You hated it that he went there.  This small talk needed to drop.  You looked forward and nodded.  

“I know I said you looked happy down in that basement, but there was one other time I saw you happier.” Bruce kept his eyes straight ahead. 

The memory made you cringe.  You were wearing Bucky’s clothes and probably looked freshly fucked in front of a colleague.  

Your reaction reminded you of what you had come to know though.  You weren’t you on the pills and you weren’t you after being intimate with your Alphas.  

There was more you cared about than pleasing them or focusing on your job.  Omega or not, you were a person. You’d learned more about yourself in two weeks than you had in your entire life.

The elevator came to a stop and you braced yourself, still scared this was a trick.  Instead, it opened up to Tony’s plush apartment.  

“Loki.” You said the name as you walked out, remembering the last time you were here.

God of mischief was an appropriate title for him since he started this whole thing.   “You don’t have to worry about him.” Bruce was a few feet in front of you and pointed up to the balcony. “Upstairs on the left is Tony’s room.  Stay out of there.  The right has two guest rooms.  Pick whichever you like.  Otherwise, you’re on your own.” 

“Just like that?”  The ceiling was at least sixty feet high. The huge windows showed the dark blue skyline, skyscrapers starting to light up. “You’re leaving?”

“I’ve got a flight to catch.” Bruce put his hands on your shoulders and leaned in, placing a kiss on your cheek. “Enjoy yourself.”

The gesture was uncharacteristic of your fellow scientist.  But the touch almost made you cry.  You were enjoying getting to know yourself, but that didn’t make you any less lonely.  

Lonely.  Even thinking the word made you gasp.  You could lie to a lot of people, but when the truth slipped out in your mind it was hard to deny.

Bruce walked back to the elevator. You were still processing your thoughts. 

 Maybe you should call out, stop him, have him take you to Bucky and Steve.  Maybe they would forgive you, maybe the three of you could find a way to work.  Maybe it was worth a shot.  

Before you could raise your concerns the ding sounded and Bruce disappeared, leaving you alone in the giant apartment.  

You deserved solitude, but at least your Alphas had each other and we're going to have their friends this weekend.  You could take some solace in that fact.   The window called to you and you walked over to it, pressing your hand against the pane.  You were about to lose yourself in your min when another ding sounded.  

Bruce came back.  You looked over your shoulder, unsure if you should tell him to get your Alphas or keep with the plan.  

When you opened your mouth to speak you froze. It wasn’t Bruce.

  Steve stepped out first. He had on dress pants and a blue button down. Bucky was right behind him dressed all in black. 

“Are we the first ones?” Steve glanced around the apartment, his eyes stopped moving as soon as they landed on you. 

You looked to Bucky who had also spotted you and was now staring. The dark-haired Alpha’s lips parted in shock.  Steve’s eyebrows were raised too.  Neither of them expected to see you.  

They were about twenty feet away from you, but it felt like there was a thick ocean separating them.  A small gasp escaped your throat and you shut your mouth, not realizing it had been hanging open.  

“Y/N.” The sound of Steve’s voice was stronger than you remembered and it made your knees start to buckle. 

This was too hard, you missed them and seeing them without being in their arms, without knowing everything was alright was too much. Even though you didn’t want to look away you had no chance of keeping it together if you kept looking at them. 

It was too late though.  Your legs gave out and you crumbled to the floor as a sob escaped your lips.  

“Y/N, you have to calm down,” Steve spoke through gritted teeth.

  The harshness of his voice made you look up.  Twilight was setting in, but you saw it clear as day, his pupils starting to turn black.  

Would that be so bad? Triggering their Alpha to take care of you?  Like the first time.  If that was going to happen you wanted to get a chance to apologize before they vanished again. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You blurted out between sobs. “Forgive me. I’m so sorry for what I did to you two.” 

“What?” Bucky stepped forward. 

“I should never have left. I should never have involved Tony. I understand why you hate me, but you’re still so good you helped me and I didn’t deserve it.” You were still on your feet but needed to put your hands on the floor before you fell. “I’m so sorry. I’d give anything to take it back.” 

“Hey.” There were hands on your back and under your knees, scooping you in the air.  

Immediately you hands went behind Bucky’s neck as he carried you over to the couch. Feeling his body next to yours was making you melt even more.  When he left this time it was going to be harder.

  He walked you over to Steve, who also had his arms out. When you reached him you stretched and pulled him close and his hands went to carry you as well.  Both of them leaned their heads towards you as the held you in the middle of the apartment.  

“I’m so sorry.” You sniffled.  

“It’s alright Doll.” Steve kissed the top of your head. “We’re sorry too.” 

“Why?  You didn’t do anything wrong.” You lifted your chin and glanced between the two of them.  “All you did was try to help me.” 

“I think we should all sit down.” Bucky kept you close as he pulled you away from Steve. 

The two of them walked over to a couch and set you so you were half on each of their laps, both of them twisted slightly toward you.  Steve took one of your hands in his and brought it to his lips, giving your knuckles a light kiss.  

“We thought you didn’t want us.” Bucky’s metal arm snaked around your waist pulling you further onto his lap, but twisting you so you both faced Steve. “Especially after you didn’t ask for us.”

“What do you mean?” You looked over your shoulder at him. “You mean when you helped me through my heat? I thought since you weren’t there when I woke up, you were just doing your duty to help an Omega.”

“Never Doll.” Steve kissed your hand again, making you look towards him. “We gave you a choice. We wanted you to make it without any influences.  I told you before we left, all you had to do was ask and we would come running.”

“I don’t remember.” You glanced between the two of them. “I didn’t remember anything from my heat. Only flashes, and feelings. I knew you were there, I knew it was you, but I was like an animal. I don’t remember any conversations at all.” 

Bucky let out a small grunt and Steve went from looking shocked to sheepish.  You couldn’t help but giggle. 

“What?” Steve tilted his head. “How is this funny?”

“We’ve all spent the last two weeks without each other for no reason.”  You shut your eyes and felt like the weight of the world was lifting off your shoulders. “So you want me?” 

“More than anything.” Bucky kissed your head. 

“Always.” Steve’s other hand squeezed your knee. “And you?  You want us?” The warm tears formed as you tried to think of what to say, but there weren’t words so instead, you nodded furiously.  

“Yes.”  You kept nodding and took a breath. “I love both of you. I love you so much it hurts.” 

Steve broke out in a smile and Bucky pulled you even tighter.  

“Can we go home now?” You looked over your shoulder. 

Bucky was smiling and he stood up, pivoting you so he was cradling you once again.  

“Let’s get out of here before the rest of Tony’s guests show up.” Steve held your hand as he rose from the couch. “I want it just us for the next few days.” 

“You mean the people going to Napa?” You asked. “Bruce was leaving for the plane. He told me I would be alone here all weekend.”

“Clever Betas.” Bucky laughed.  

You smirked. A few minutes ago you were certain this was a setup, and it was.  You rested your head on Bucky’s shoulder as you walked into the elevator.   Steve hit the down button and the doors shut.  

“Good evening Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, Dr. Y/L/N.  I have a message from Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner.  They say: ‘all three of you are stubborn idiots and you’re welcome.’” The AI’s voice filled the elevator.  

You pinched your eyes shut with embarrassment as Steve and Bucky laughed.   “I hate it that I’m putting them in danger by being here.  Unmated Omega.” You wished they had claimed you during your heat. 

“We’ll take care of it during your next cycle.” Steve rubbed your back. “We promise.”

“Who knows when that will be.” You wanted it now. 

It was worth the wait though, trying when you weren’t in your heat would make it next to impossible for them both to claim you. 

“We have plenty of time to practice.” Bucky’s eyes danced down your face.  

He steadied his gaze on your lips and licked his own. Your body flashed with lust at the simple gesture.  A purr came from Steve, who continued to rub your back.   There was no way it was going to be anyone but the three of you for the next several days.   ~~~ You were carried up the stairs, still cradled to Bucky’s chest with Steve walking in front of you. You had never felt safer in your entire life.  A warmth was spreading through your body. You were home.  Not because you were back in the apartment, but because you were with the two of them.  

Steve opened the door to his room and all three of you went inside.  The anticipation of what was to come made wetness pool at your core.  You pressed your legs together, aware that the scent was making its way to your Alphas. 

Even though you knew you were protected there was a slight shake to your body when Bucky set you down on the edge of the bed.  

“Are you scared?” Steve knelt in front of you placing his hand on your knee, while Bucky took a seat, putting his arm around your shoulder.   

“No.” You lied and shut your eyes. 

Both Alphas let out low growls and you popped your lids open. They knew you were lying. 

“Yes.” You let out a whimper.  

“Why?” Steve leaned down and kissed your knee at the same time Bucky kissed your shoulder. “We’d never hurt you.”

“We can tell you're getting excited.” Bucky kissed down your arm, lifting it in the air to meet his lips. 

“In a way, this feels like the first time.” Your legs parted as Steve kissed down your thigh. 

“Relax Doll,” Steve spoke between light kisses. “Let us take care of you.”  

“There’s nothing we want more in the world.”  Bucky reached your wrist at the same moment Steve came to your apex. 

You gasped as Bucky lifted your arm in the air and Steve rose your behind from the bed.  Both of them worked quick. Bucky pulled your tank top over your head at the same time Steve pulled off your pants and panties. Bucky’s hands went to your back and unclasped your bra right when Steve tugged off the bottoms, making you fall back into the bed, completely nude. 

Both of your Alpha’s rose and looked down at your naked form.  Instinct made you move to cover yourself but again they each growled. 

“So beautiful Doll.” Bucky started unbuttoning his shirt. 

“Our perfect Omega.”  Steve untucked his and ripped it over his head. 

The sight of his body rippling with the motion made you moan and even more slick gather between your legs. 

Steve leaned down and grabbed one of your ankles.  You pointed your toes as he lifted your leg to his mouth and started kissing.  His lips felt like they were burning your skin and comforting it at the same time. The position made you fall back on your elbows, with your other knee bent on the bed and legs slightly parted. 

“I bet you taste better than you smell.” Bucky’s voice made you look towards him. 

You got a glimpse of his equally perfect bare torso before he fell forward, his head landing right between your legs. 

“Ah!” You let out a small noise when his tongue ran up your slit.  

Steve kissed down your calf, before dipping your leg and wrapping it around Bucky’s shoulder. His tongue flickered against your clit making you moan.  He kept the light pressure, and you found yourself trying to use your heel to pull him closer.

“Patience Doll.” Bucky chuckled. 

The bed dipped and your eyes snapped back to Steve.  He came down over you and pressed his mouth to yours.  You did not hesitate to open your lips and take his tongue against yours.  At the same time, Bucky pressed himself harder against your pearl and you moaned even louder into Steve’s mouth.  

It was like the two of them were aware of exactly what the other was doing.  Steve’s tongue rolled against yours in a deep wave while Bucky used his to bring your body to life.  

Steve’s hand went to your stomach while Bucky repositioned himself so that each of his arms wrapped around your thighs.  You brought your other leg around his shoulder and put your arms around Steve’s neck as you fell completely back into the bed.  

Fingertips ran up your stomach and the same time as another set loosened its grip on your thigh.  Steve’s traced upward until they reached the bottom of your breast while Bucky’s swooped down until they lightly glazed your entrance. “Mmmm.” You whimpered into Steve’s mouth.  

You found yourself trying to arch your back into Steve’s touch and flex your pelvis into Bucky’s finger at the same time. The movement was impossible and resulted in receiving either touch further while lessening the other. “Mmmmppph!” You cried out again, but Steve only deepened the kiss.  

Both of them touching you, but neither giving you exactly what you wanted was driving your crazy, making you wiggle underneath them in a constant, erratic movement.  Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore and flipped your head to the side, ending the kiss.

Before you could speak you started to pant. 

“Please.” You panted again. “Please. I need more.” 

A hand was on your chin, whipping your head back towards Steve.  You gasped and another wave of excitement shook your body when black eyes looked down at you.

“That’s what you want.” His fingertips applied more pressure and started to work up your breast.

“We know what you need.” Bucky looked up from between your legs.  

His eyes were just as black as Steve’s.  Seeing them like this made you moan and drop your head back.  It was you causing this.  The first time you were so scared, but now you understood the control you had over them, your body forcing each of them into the Alpha state.  It sent a surge of power through you.   Right when Steve’s fingertips reached your nipple Bucky’s finger slid into your canal.  Steve pinched while Bucky filled and you squealed, arching your back.   Steve leaned over you and started to kiss your neck while Bucky’s wet tongue pressed against your clit again.  You dropped one hand and ran it through his hair while you brought the other to Steve and did the same.  

Bucky’s tongue pulsed, while Steve rolled your bud into a hard pebble.  Then Bucky started to curl his finger and your legs shook.  Steve used the opportunity to kiss down your clavicle until his mouth replaced his fingers.  

He sucked your nipple into his mouth and began teasing it with his teeth, alternating between biting and lightly grinding the nerve center.  His other hand went to your neglected tit and began giving it the same amount of attention with his fingertips.  

Bucky clicked his fingers inside of you, bringing your fleshy patch to life while his mouth sucked your bundle on nerves to the point it was almost too much.   The attention began to gather at your core.  Everything they were doing to you traveled to the single place and piled up.  Each of their motions made you climb higher and higher.  It was tightening, to the point, you were a moaning mess on the bed, incapable of focusing on anything but the release that loomed over you. Steve sucked harder and Bucky clicked faster. The buildup scattered as you through your head back, the orgasm sending the pile of pleasure through your entire body. 

“MmmmmMmMM!” You tossed your head to the side, certain that you were going to lose consciousness.  

All the nights you missed this, missed them only intensified the orgasm.  Your body craved your Alphas and you had been denying yourself far too much.   Bucky’s finger slid out and Steve’s head disappeared.  You curled on your side, unsure if you wanted to ecstasy to carry you into sleep or try to fight it down for more.  

“We’re just getting started Doll.”  The mattress dipped and hands were on your hips. “I missed you.”  

You forced your eyes open as you were lifted in the air.  Bucky position you so you were straddling him.  He bent his knees and set your back against them, giving you the support you needed since you were still reeling from the orgasm.   His hand went between the two of you, while the metal one stayed on your hip and lifted you.  His cock was at your pussy, pressing against your hole.  You closed your eyes as his head pushed inside of you.  

“AH!” You almost fell forward, forgetting how large he was.  

“So beautiful Doll.”  His metal hand pushed you down. 

You were soaked from the previous attention, but still felt every bit of him as your pussy stretched down.  He was thick and your walls started to convulse.  You whined, unsure if him filling you was causing a residual orgasm or you were struggling to accommodate him.

“Eeeee!” Either way, you let out a screech.  

Your thighs slid apart as you were impaled. All of your nerves were scrambled, but there was no doubt the sensation was amazing.  

His other hand returned to your opposite hip and held you upright while you settled.  

Even though he was holding you up, your shoulders started to slouch.  You expected to keel over, but a hand touched your chin.  

You opened your eyes and looked to see Steve kneeling next to Bucky.  His cock was rock hard, and right in front of your mouth.

   You barely had a chance to lick your lips before he pulled your head forward.  You opened your mouth and tried to relax your jaw while he pressed against your tongue. 

“Good Omega.” Steve purred.  

Bucky’s fingers dug into your hips and he flexed up, making you pop and take Steve further into your mouth.  When the dark hair soldier lowered you back down he didn’t give you a second to recover before he lifted you up again.   This time Steve’s cock went even deeper, you had to press your tongue down or risk gagging.  You brought your hands to Steve’s thighs to brace yourself and moaned.  

Bucky slid you up and down his pole, and every inch that left your pussy an inch of Steve entered your mouth.  The taste of Steve’s precum was more delicious than you remembered and you found yourself hungry for more. 

It was enough motivation to start flicking your tongue.  Bucky must have sensed the eagerness return and began bouncing you faster.  The stuffed feeling was sending you into overdrive and you started to rock your hips, making his cock bump into your G-spot with each thrust.  

You continued working your tongue against Steve, wanting to taste all of him.  The thought of his cum hitting the back of your throat, floating down into your belly made you whimper.  You needed that.  

So you began bobbing your head faster, desperate for all of him.  Saliva started to pool at the corners of your mouth.  You were desperate to taste him. “Ahhh.” Steve let out a groan.  

Then you felt it.  Your eyes popped open and you almost fell over, taking Steve down your throat in the process, as Bucky’s metal finger pressed against your clit.  

You had been so focused on getting Steve off you forgot about the giant cock spearing you.  Bucky’s finger brought you back to your own pleasure as he began rubbing circles.  

The attention was too much and you cried out, trying to jerk your hips backward.  You were met with Bucky’s knees, keeping you from getting away from his touch.  

You jerked your head back to drop Steve from your mouth and tell Bucky you were too sensitive, but Steve’s hand grabbed your skull before his tip fell.  You looked up at him with pleading eyes but were meant with the black ones staring back at you.  

“Remember.  We know what you need.” Steve’s voice carried a warning.  

They were the Alphas.  They would never hurt you.  You gave your head a nod and Steve lessened his grip.  

“Good Omega.” Bucky purred this time. 

Your body shook in response to the praise. Bucky flexed his hips up again as his finger pushed even harder and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. 

“That’s it Doll.  Give yourself to us.”  Steve rubbed your head, his cock still in your mouth. 

  Bucky was working your body too much and you could no longer concentrate on blowing Steve, instead, the only movement from your mouth was the result of Bucky lifting and dropping you

   The coil of pleasure began to form again.  This time you didn’t try to meet it.  You let Bucky remain in control, guiding your body to its release. 

  Whines and moans left your lips, but they were all stifled by Steve’s cock pressing against your tongue.  

“That’s feels so good baby girl.” Steve ran his hands over your hair.  

“Mmmmph.” You didn’t even know what you were trying to say.  

“So good Omega.” Bucky chimed in and pressed down hard.

His finger was torturing your clit at the same time he was sliding you up and down his shaft.  When their praise mixed in you couldn’t take it any longer.  The coil burst free and euphoria spread over your entire body.  

It felt like you were falling and gasping for breath at the same time as you were flying and exploding.  You had no control over your body whatsoever. And you were grateful if it meant feeling this way.  

Suddenly your lungs burned and the passion continued to works its way through your veins, but it brought on the blackness as you gave over completely to the orgasm.  

A hand was rubbing your back.  Your breathing was heavy. You struggled to open your eyes, but the chest underneath your started to vibrate.  You were cocooned by two arms, pressed tight against your Alpha. 

“Such a perfect Omega.”  Bucky’s voice calmed you.  

Your senses started to return and you lifted your head.  His hands left your back and went to your cheeks and he pulled you down for a kiss. 

His tongue slid into your mouth and you barely had control of your jaw as he started to kiss you.  You sighed, but he kept at it, coaxing you into action.   The rest of the world started to settle in and you realized he was still buried deep inside of you, his cock slowly pulsing while his tongue moved.  Your body was still tingling with pleasure.  

Hands were on your hips, urging you to start to rock yourself.  They must have been Steves. You whined in protest.

“You can handle more Baby Doll.” Steve encouraged you. “Trust me.” 

His encouragement made you lift your hips slightly and then slide back down. You’d already cum twice and neither of them had.  Even if you couldn’t take anymore you were not going to leave them wanting.  

“That’s it.” Steve’s hands vanished. “Doing so well. Our good girl.”

You moaned and started moving faster. You wanted that: to be their good girl.  You slid up Bucky further before impaling yourself again.  Every nerve in your pussy was fried and you felt every inch of him.  It was almost Utopia.  

Bucky continued to kiss you, holding your face to his as your body was bent over him.  There was a movement behind you and Steve’s hands slid up your thighs to your ass.  He caressed your cheeks before spreading them apart. 

Panic filled you as you sucked in a breath and tried to pull away from Bucky.  He responded with a low growl. 

“Do you trust us Y/N?” Steve situated himself behind him and you felt a coolness at your rear.  “You need to relax.  We only want to give you what you need.”  

The adrenaline had brought you back to life, but the panic was starting to fade.  You responded by returning Bucky’s kiss.  

“What a good girl.” Steve’s voice was so commanding it made you relax even more. “That’s it Doll.” 

You didn’t tense when you felt his head press into your passage.  He pressed forward and you groaned into Bucky’s mouth.  It wasn’t the first time you’d taken both of them, but it was the first time you were this aware.  

Every push of Steve’s cock into your ass only made your body more aware of Bucky in your pussy.  Your groan turned into a moan.  It felt like your entire body was alive, even places you never knew existed anymore. 

Steve kept his descent slow. You knew it was for your benefit, but it made a slow pleasure pop through you. Igniting something you weren’t sure you could handle.  You tried to sit back, wanting him to enter faster.  

“Grr.” Bucky pulled his tongue out and brought a hand to your side as he sat up, pushing you down with him. 

“AHHHH!” You didn’t hide the scream as your through your head back. 

Bucky’s movement had set Steve’s entire cock in your ass.  The blond Alpha adjusted himself so his arm was on your other hip. 

All three of you sat upright, with you sandwiched between them.  You’d never felt this full in your life, literally or figuratively.  

You reached behind you and pulled Steve’s head forward. His mouth went to your neck, just like you wanted.  You moaned when Bucky dipped his head to your chest and started kissing and licking at your breasts.  

Both of them were moving their cocks too slowly. You lifted yourself and them dropped back down, getting moans out of both of them.  You repeated the action still feeling completely stuffed, but it didn’t stop the ache from forming.

“Ohhhh!” Your head dropped to Steve’s shoulder as you got into a rhythm. You were the one guiding it, but your Alphas worked together. Diving at the same rate. Your bodies were being guided by instinct and all they needed was each other.  

“Eeeeeemmmm!” You weren’t even making coherent noises.  

It was pure passion driving your beings. You were going to cum. They were going to cum.  Bucky lifted his head at the same time as Steve and you lowered yourself one final time, exploding. 

Before any of the sensations could be comprehended both of their mouths hit your neck again and teeth sunk in. 

“AHHHHH!” You let out a blood-curdling scream. 

They both hit your bonding marks at the exact time your body shook from the orgasm.  Their cocks pulsed inside of you filling both of your wholes as their claim spread through your body.  It was indescribable, but you tumbled over and over again into pleasure.  

At that moment you sunk down and rocketed away.  Pure love was filling every atom in your body, heart, and soul.  

You weren’t capable of forming a coherent thought and didn’t care if you were ever able to have one again.  

Pressure fell on your back and you collapsed, welcoming the free fall. ~~~ When you woke up your head was heavy.  Your neck ached and your hands pulled in and touched both sides.  Your fingertips ran over teeth marks.  Claimed. Bonded. Mated.  

Your eyes popped open.  You were being cuddled by two Alphas.  No, by YOUR two Alphas.  It worked.  You weren’t in your heat and it worked.  

They said it was a one in a million chance, but you were a one in a million couple.  Both of them were fast asleep as their arms draped over you, chests moving with deep sleep.  You wouldn’t wake them.  

All this time you were so concerned with who you were, trying to define yourself in any way possible.  But now that you accepted your make up you realized that was never a question.  

Every mistake you had ever made, every choice had led you to this point. And it was all worth it.  You were an Omega, you were a scientist, you were smart, you were emotional, you were loved, you were in love, you were safe, you were protected, you were cherished, and you had a long, happy life ahead of you with two truly beautiful Alphas.  

You were you. And that was all you hoped to ever be. 

WHO AM I?

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! This was my first Marvel story so it really brought me into the fandom.  I am so grateful to have people reading my stories, it means the world to me.  Thank you again! Xoxo 

[miraclejune]

HERO’S SOUP: CHAPTER 17

District 9

Minho and Felix popped inside through the window. A hint of snow wafted around as Felix transformed back into human form. Minho quietly emerged from the dark corner.

Woojin helped Woong from getting some extra chairs from one of the rooms. They settled down and paid attention to the heavy conversation that was bound to happen.

"Jisung got kidnapped. Jeongin met another one of Merlin's apprentices. Changbin almost got killed. And Chan has real friends outside the mansion."

"Really? That's one of the big issues?" Chan rolled his eyes after receiving no response from Hyunjin. "I've heard about all of that except for the last part." Woong chuckled as he spoke.

"How?”

“Rumors spread faster than the plague here. And the Sofia's aren't good at keeping secrets." the vampire couldn't agree more. He heard a lot of chatter before at the clan, mostly some petty quarrels and scandals. Rare cases would be fights and disagreements within their 'businesses'. They spread petty rumors about other people but not even the slightest information from them was leaked.

"So, basically every supernatural being knows?" Woojin slumped down as he saw Woong's soft nod.

"Is it all connected though?" Jeongin asked.

"I hope so. It'll be much easier to deal with." Minho responded. He was right. If the following scenes came from different sources, it would be very difficult to handle. They didn't have the resources nor the time to do so. When it comes to manpower, they do have Jisung and Chan.

"Do you guys think they're tracking us?"

"Jeongin, you watch too many detective movies." Felix chuckled, moving to sit in between the boy's legs. "Well," Jeongin leaned forward and placed his hands on Felix's shoulders. "I do watch a lot of those films but maybe it's possible? No harm in finding out.”

"Let's hear him out." Minho suggested. He nodded at the boy signaling him to continue. "So, Jisung had been kidnapped before, right? Thankfully we all got out alive. Which is weird?"

"How is that weird?" Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows. Woojin put out a hand to calm him down, he noticed his tone was rising for a bit. "Go on." he said.

"O-okay." Taking a big breath, Jeongin calmed his racing heart.

"They let us go so easily. No backup. No follow up attacks. No nothing. It was too peaceful for my liking. A couple of weeks passed by peacefully, except for that one encounter with Ms. Yoo. Do you guys think she was somehow warning us? That something bad would happen soon."

"Kazuo has been giving us hints as well." Seungmin added.

Hyunjin rested his chin on his hand. "Ms. Yoo didn't hurt you. But she did scare the shit out of you." Jeongin nodded. To be honest, he did almost piss his pants.

"I tried to find her. But I couldn't get a grip of her. I couldn't ask around because people might question why I, an alpha wolf, is looking for one of Merlin's Descendants with no valid reason to state." Hyunjin turned to the alpha. He was also part of that search team.

"What we know for sure is that she's not our enemy nor our ally. I haven't seen her around the university ever since." Seungmin added. It somehow made sense. After not seeing her at the campus, weird things started to happen.

"We keep on encountering Kazuo though." Seungmin pointed out. Everyone in the room went still. "He's helping us." Chan replied. "We're not so sure about that." Minho retaliated. Chan didn't respond back.

"Two days ago. I received a letter from my former master." Seungmin's confession drew everyone's attention. "It was mostly monthly updates on how the academy is and some special events. But she did disclose a hidden message."

Hyunjin tilted his head. "Huh, as far as I know. No secret code nor language can't be deciphered by your former academy. Everything that comes in and out is to be sorted and searched very thoroughly." It was common knowledge for everyone.

Not only Seungmin's former witch academy but most of the facilities regarding students and workers. "That's the problem. They scrutinize every detail of it except for the very simple ones. They tend to overlook it."

He snapped his fingers and a sealed amazon box fell onto his lap. He reached out for Woojin's hand, who was beside the sofa sitting on a different chair.

On cue, the alpha's nails grew longer. "You just used our alpha as a cutter to open up the box.." Changbin shook his head in disbelief.

"Anyway, it said something about another package that was sent to me via mail." Seungmin ignored the wolf's remarks.

He stopped halfway through opening it.

"Like, normal mailing." what he meant was, normal human mailing.

"Yeah, the FedEx box is a dead giveaway." Felix commented.

"I planned on opening it the day I received it, but I forgot." the rest weren't paying attention to his words. They were excited to see what was in the package.

Seungmin pulled out a bunch of old letters, books, and smaller boxes. "Oh, these are just stuff I left there." He flipped through some of the books, handing one or two to Woong, the rest wondered why Seungmin had Woong's belongings.

"She scares me." Woong thanked him, sighing in agreement with what he said. "Seriously, she knows the exact time and place we would meet. Even when you're gonna open the package."

"You guys went to the same academy?" Jeongin asked.

"Yup!" Woong snapped his fingers, a big book appearing from thin dust. The book floats in front of everyone. It was sort of like a yearbook. Something straight out of Harry Potter. It flipped through the page where Woong's class was featured. "I was in my last year when Seungmin came in. So, we didn't see each other often." Seungmin waves his hand in the air, flipping through the pages once more until it stops at his class photo. "I hated taking these class photos," he confessed.

"Why'd you get the book?" Seungmin asked. "I also got the tablet. But I don't know where I placed it." Basically, their academy offers two options for the 'yearbook' either print or digital. Hey, it's a new age.

Woong threw the books he received at the shelf. They slowed down and squeezed neatly on a few vacant spaces. "Why didn't you just search for her there?" he pointed at the book. "Ms. Yoo is older than both of you.. so, it won't make sense."

"The book shows every class from the beginning of the academy to the last." Woong proclaimed proudly. "Damn, why wasn't I cursed as a witch." Changbin completely forgot about his words earlier. He was impressed.

Seungmin thinned his lips before answering. 

"I did."

The book closed. The cover slowly changed into a different color, as well as a year printed on the front. It opened and flipped through a couple of pages stopping abruptly on the last page. "This was Ms. Yoo's class. There were only 10 of them and I heard that all of them were expelled."

They all leaned in to see an empty sheet with only the year printed on top of it, the ink was runny. It looked creepy as hell...

"Why haven't we heard of this?" Chan looked at Seungmin and Woong exchanging glances with each other. "An expelled student is normal but a whole class was definitely sketchy. We have no idea how and why. We were just given a warning not to bring it up if necessary."

The room sat in silence.

Jeongin observed the book, shifting his gaze to the two witches. Woong snapped his fingers and the book disappeared.

As they were settling on their seats, Jeongin spoke up. "You guys are cursed."

Woojin walked across the room, kneeling in front of the boy. "How did you know?" softly caressing his cheek, he asked. "I just know." Jeongin wasn't quite sure as to why he knew. He just blurted out the first thing that came to mind and based on Woojin's actions, he knew also.

"We are." Woong gave a sad smile.

"Cursed not to talk about it." Seungmin murmured.

"But how? You guys just mentioned it." Minho tilted his head after asking. He was boggled by what was happening at that moment. "We can talk about the whole class being expelled, but not the reason why."

"So, you are cursed not to talk about it?" Felix asked again.

"No. We can say what happened but not the details."

"Why not?" Chan asked this time.

As soon as he did, they all shut their mouths. They got it. The witches were cursed. They're just repeating themselves, not really getting anything out of it. It was an endless cycle. It sent shivers down their spine.

Chan recalled Seungmin saying something about a curse he wanted to be removed as he entered the neutral zone. So this was it.

A curse that had a purpose won't be able to break in neutral zones. He glanced at Changbin who searched for every neutral zone in South Korea just to find a way to undo his curse. But it didn't.

"Let's move on." Woojin broke the silence, smiling amongst the agitated faces of his friends. He stood up and went back to his seat. "So, there was nothing special about the package? Why would your master send it through normal mail?"

"Oh, there is something there." Woong implied.

Seungmin emptied the remaining contents of the package.

"Woong, if you mind." he neatly removed the contents of the coffee table, asking the others to hold on to their cups for the meantime.

Seungmin placed the box on top of the table, holding out his hands in the air. Woong walked to the opposite side and mimicked Seungmin's actions.

After a few seconds, the curtains closed and the lights dimmed, engulfing the room in darkness. The box levitated in midair, glowing as bright as the witches' hair.

The rest of them expected some cool outcome or important information. However as they felt the climax reaching its point, the box fell, and the witches fell on their knees as well.

"This sealing is so complicated." Jeongin looked at the box as he helped Woong get on his feet. "She really sent something so cryptic even though she knows we can't remove the seal easily." Seungmin thanked Woong who supported him when he was about to fall.

"Jeongin, don't touch it." Chan was too late. The boy had already picked up the box.

He momentarily stopped to realize what he had done and proceeded to turn it over to its original position. "Chan, it's fine. It's not harmful." Woong reassured.

"So, you can't open it?" Hyunjin mumbled.

Seungmin snorted. "I didn't say we can't." Both went back to their original positions. "It'll be much easier now." Woong continued.

And so, they did. It only took a few seconds before the box was engulfed in flames; no trace of ash nor residue was left.

"District 9." the witches said in unison.

"That place?" Minho probed.

"That's where Origin is." he continued. "Rank 1?" Felix nodded softly at Jeongin answering his question.

The strongest of the 11 families. No one has a clue about them. What they are capable of, who their leader is or where they’re from. Rumor has it they attacked the lower ranked families that’s why they vanished, but no one has proven anything yet. No one even knows how many members they have, or if its just one person.

"Was." Woojin corrected Minho. "They're gone."

"We don't know that." Hyunjin argued. "It's been a couple thousand years." Woojin replied. "They probably perished after getting rid of the other families.” he continued.

“That’s not possible. They can’t just disappear like that!”

“Hyunjin, don’t you fucking dare raise your voice at me.” Woojin's growl left the room in a terrifying silence. Every natural body movement was on hold.

Jeongin could hear his pulse banging in his ears and there was sweat dripping down his back. Even Woong was frozen in fear. He had seen Woojin in a bad mood before. He was not frightened nor was he afraid. What he felt was beyond such mere nouns. And he knew everyone else in the room except Hyunjin was feeling it.

Hyunjin hastily stood up, balling his fists as he stared down on Woojin. Out of all the members, he was the only one who wasn’t scared of Hyunjin. He is the beta. Second in command. And he’s not gonna let his alpha push him around just because he’s second.

“Hyunjin, stop.” Chan demanded. But the beta was not hearing anything else. He only heard the anger in his body slowly rising, wanting to be let out. He hated how Woojin was staring back at him intensely, obviously asking him to cut the crap and just quietly sit in the corner.

Seungmin felt the nauseating atmosphere, he couldn’t bear it. He noticed Hyunjin slowly inching towards Woojin, who was beside him.

He abruptly stood up, creating a temporary wall between the two. “Hyunjin, you need to calm down.”

Changbin walked behind Hyunjin, placing a soothing hand on his back. “It’s not time for us to go against each other.”

“Look, I have zero fucking idea what’s happening, why we’re all getting mad and stuff but it’s not right for us to gang up on each other. We only have each other. I don’t want to be alone again.” all eyes fell onto Felix. His baritone voice had a hint of anger and sadness in it.

Hyunjin's intense stare on the alpha faltered. His eyes fell on the floor. Changbin felt him calming down, so he pulled him into a small hug before going back to his seat.

“I’m sorry.” he murmured. Woojin stood up and kneeled in front of his beta. He lifted up Hyunjin's chin and as their eyes met, he smiled softly. “It’s okay. I know what you’re feeling. I’m sorry.” as they settled back down, the air slowly went back to its normal state.

Chan cleared his throat.

"For now, let's try to find out if they really are tracking us." The next 30 minutes consisted of Jisung refusing to go to the basement with the two witches, Hyunjin detaching himself from Jisung who was clinging to him like crazy, and Felix laughing at the scene unfolding in front of his eyes.

The three disappeared downstairs, leaving the rest in the living room. "We have to lay low for a while. It's almost midnight outside, so the mansion is guarded. However, we cannot go back home just yet." Chan suggested.

It was dangerous for them to continue with their daily lives for now. Jeongin was worried about school. He hoped that this mess would be finished soon.

“I’m leaving.”

“Ok-Huh? WAIT, CHRIS!!” Before Jeongin could process what happened, the vampire disappeared in the middle of the living room.

“Now, what!” Changbin threw his hands in the air as a sign of defeat. "He never changed! Fucking selfish prick." he exclaimed.

Felix and Minho shook their heads.

"Where's the vamp?" Hyunjin pops out from what seems to be the kitchen because of the piece of bread on his mouth. Woojin followed up from behind.

"Lemme help you with that." Felix took some contents out of Woojin's hands. After placing everything on the coffee table, he straightened up and looked around the room. He broke into a small smile. “He left, didn’t he?” Changbin nodded, rolling his eyes afterwards.

The remaining people settled back down the living room. “Is it okay for us to eat Woong's food?”

“You shouldn’t be asking that as you stuff your face with his bread.” Hyunjin coughed and almost choked to death before Minho would give him a glass of water. “Assholes.” Hyunjin muttered, water dripping down his chin.

“It’s fine. He said to help ourselves since we’re probably gonna be staying here for a while.” Woojin answered. “Anyway, let Chan be. He’s not used to fighting in groups.”

Jeongin smiled. “We can tell.”

“I just hope he reaches out for us every now and then. I’m jealous of all the action he’s getting.” Felix proclaimed.

“Chan doesn’t really fall in line with ‘Character Development’. Well, some aspects of him change but not drastically. He’s still the same old vampire we knew." Felix paused and smiled.

"But that didn’t stop us from loving him, right?” he continued.

The silence around him meant ‘yes’.

They talked lightly for quite a while. Some of them grew impatient and tried poking into the witches’ business. 

So, now Jeongin's been playing with 2 wolf cubs, 1 baby fox, and a black kitten.

‘Some of them’ included everyone in the room except him and Woojin.

“I told you guys to just wait.” Woojin giggled loudly, he sat beside Jeongin, taking the 2 wolf cubs onto his lap.

“This isn’t really any different from what you guys originally are.” That statement earned him a bite on his thumb, it was pretty deep but healed quickly. “Changbin, how dare you bite your alpha!” Woojin exclaimed in a joking manner as he tickled both of them.

“We’re done.” The basement door opened in a hurry, they looked back just in time to see a disheveled Jisung limp his way to the nearest chair.

“What the hell did they do to you?” Jeongin stood up, grasping the baby fox and kitten firmly on his arms so they wouldn't fall.

Honestly, he would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so dire. “Dude, you looked like you’ve been molested!” Woojin was like 'fuck it' and laughed after what he said. Jisung would’ve glared at him but he was too disoriented.

“These evil fucking sorcerers have defiled me. MY DIGNITY. MY PURENESS. MY LIFE WILL NEVER BE THE SAME.”

Talk about being over dramatic.

“Oh, shut up. We thought it was just a hoot and a half.” Woong shook Seungmin's hand, making Jisung more and more annoyed.

“We’ll file a lawsuit later, Jisung. For now, did you find any traces?” Jeongin escorted Jisung to the room upstairs to rest, when he got back. They continued.

“We found a few traces of silver inside his body.” Woojin smiled sadly. “Yeah, that’s been there for a long time.”

Seungmin realized it was a sensitive topic. “O-okay. Other than that, we couldn’t find anything. He’s clean.” He tried disregarding his words earlier. Woojin fell into thought.

“Where’s Chan by the way?”

“He left.” Jeongin said.

“Fucking selfish prick.” The boy almost laughed at Seungmin's familiar insult.

“Well, we’ll figure it out once you guys get enough rest. I prepared all your rooms, sorry but you guys have to room with each other for a while.” Woojin bowed his head in apology. “No! Sorry for coming in unannounced. Thank you for helping us, Woong.” Woojin replied.

Woong ushered them upstairs, clearly forgetting about the little ones.

Changbin pleaded, their little feet couldn’t climb up the steep stairs.

“Relax! You’ll transform back in 50 years.”

Hyunjin cried for a while so they were forced to transform them back.

"Crybaby." Seungmin muttered as he closed the door behind him before Hyunjin could claw his guts out.

[bondsmagii]

Hi! I think it's been a while, so what have been the Most Aesthetic Moments in your life recently?

my goodness it has been so long and so much has happened! since the last time I did a roundup I’ve spent three months in London and that alone means a whole load of Aesthetic Moments™. let’s see how many I remember…

weekly meetings with the Pub Quiz Squad each week, where we would get drunk and actually win fairly regularly. probably because the youngest member of our group was 24 and the oldest was 77, which makes for a wide breadth of (often obscure) knowledge.

each of us having Our Subjects and the entire group just turning to stare at the Appointed One whenever a question involving it came up: me and Acton with Soviet history, another friend and I for anagrams and linguistics, another friend for biology, Acton and another friend for maths or chemistry… we were unstoppable

having a married woman in the pub tell me how “gorgeous” I was and then not so subtly drop in a comment about how she’s had many affairs and so has her husband and everyone should have affairs… touching my leg the whole time while Acton laughed at me and did nothing to help me

ending up actually becoming close friends with this woman (and her husband) and even though no affairs occurred a lot of drunken shenanigans went down

ended up hosting/assisting with several dinner parties, one of which was held at aforementioned couple’s house on a private island. many people there were graduates of Oxford and Cambridge. couldn’t believe I managed to Richard Papen my way into the group by knowing obscure answer in a pub quiz and apparently being found attractive.

getting stranded miles from home because of a huge rainstorm that fucked the entire city up, flooding it terribly, and having to walk most of the distance in the pouring rain to get to yet another meeting at the pub

getting bought drinks and nachos by friends because they felt so sorry for Acton and I and the fact we looked like drowned rats pulled out of the river

drinking milkshakes from Five Guys while walking through Piccadilly and St James in the middle of the night

our bedroom has a wood-framed window that looked out into a rose garden and it was honestly so wonderful to have the window open, summer breeze bringing in the smell of the flowers, and to sit and read

we also drunkenly gardened with our housemates and cleaned up the whole place, got rid of the dead plants, tidied up all the living ones, etc while drinking wine and having a riot

lounging around in the sun with the House Angel aka a beautiful and delicate all-white cat who is the dictionary definition of serenity

I have a fairly bad limp and a friend of mine found an awesome cane that’s over 100 years old, black with a silver head, that just so happened to perfectly match my height. she has mentioned that she might be able to get hold of it permanently for me, because I looked so god damn good using it.

spending the last Friday of every month at the V&A’s Late Night Friday Nights (and then every Friday!) wandering around the lowlit galleries, sipping champagne spritzers and paddling in the courtyard pond.

drunken Wagamama. it was like 11pm, the city was alive, we were fucked up on duck gyoza

spending hours and hours in the Piccadilly Waterstone’s basement cafe, writing and brainstorming and planning and reading

going on a book buying spree like how I always wanted and spending over £100 on any book I saw and wanted

absolutely wild night out at a cocktail bar which ended at 1am with a ride back home in an ambulance

reading in parks with picnic food and wine and delicious flavoured ciders

getting home again after three months and going on the second half of the book buying spree, and then having thirty books show up in the mail over the next few weeks

looking hot as fuck as I sort out my house and clean everything and rearrange everything and throw out a bunch of stuff I don’t need anymore, feels freeing I would recommend

right now my house is full Halloween aesthetic like we have a bowl of candy on the coffee table to eat whenever, we have pumpkin pie and whipped cream for breakfast nearly every morning, there’s spooky decorations everywhere, horror movies being watched, horror books being read… maybe some ghosts being summoned but we’ll see

[takes a deep breath] I know that’s not all of it but this is long as hell!! pretty impressed with myself tbh

[xoruffitup]

The Report Screening (I Successfully did a Thing!)

So this idea sparked in my mind when I first saw The Report back at the Toronto Film Festival in September. Not only does my organization work on rule of law issues in international development, but our Executive Director is also known as a whistleblower figure against the CIA torture program while it was happening. When I heard Scott Burns mention my Director by name in an interview, I knew there were too many connections to ignore. My org should host a screening of the film. 

After Toronto, I took the next chance I found to speak to our Director about the film. Lo and behold, he consulted with Scott Burns on the screenplay and had major input into the film. Beyond that, he knew Dan Jones while Dan was working on the Senate report. My Director was wholly behind the idea of hosting a screening.

Then, fast forward to the AITAF show in November. I’m at the reception beforehand with my Dad and my friends, and who do I recognize across the room but none other than Dan Jones! He was just mingling and chatting, casual as could be, and I freaked out a bit at the sight of him because this had to be a sign?! Knowing this was the chance to make those connections to bring my idea to fruition, I went up to him during the reception and introduced myself. I told him where and who I work with, explained we’d like to host a screening, and he said he’d be more than happy to help us set it up!

I knew from the get-go that Dan would be the most important highlight of the event. Hearing him speak right after you’ve watched the film is simply staggering. So between many Twitter DMs and emails, I finally found the date that worked for both Dan and my Director - December 12th. 

Then came the logistics - To have the event on or off site? How to play the film? After deciding to keep costs down and planning simply by holding the screening in our office event space, the problem then became streaming over our unreliable internet connection. Dan had asked in an earlier email whether we “needed help with Amazon,” so when I explained that we do, he sent one email to some exec and by the end of the day someone from Amazon was on the phone with me promising to ship us a DVD! (They also offered to rent us a theatre??! But by that point the event was less than a week away so there wasn’t enough time to plan for that. Would have been insanely cool though if Amazon paid for our private theatre rental ;))

I set up the catering order; I had our Outreach team make up promo flyers and send an announcement out to our member networks; I hyped up the event to colleagues internally and friends externally. Then today came, and despite all my planning I was still nervous as all hell, with everything resting on my shoulders. 

The film arrived in the mail the morning of, and I called the Amazon contact again so they could give me the password to access the disc. (Some fancy stuff, here.) But then cue three hours of our IT people trying to get the disc to play in our event space. Several near-breakdowns later on my side, we finally get it working with sound and everything. By this point I’m extremely anxious, worrying about IT problems and having really no idea how many people will even be showing up.

The time arrived! The catering came on time, and sure enough the trickle of arriving people quickly became a definite crowd. By the time it came time to start the film, we needed extra chairs!! I said a short welcome, our Director spoke a bit about the film and the legacy of the use of torture, and then (miraculously!!) the film played without even a spot of trouble!! Literally THANK GOODNESS, because an event at our office without any sound or video issues is basically unheard of. But tonight, the impossible happened and the film played all the way through without a single hitch! :’D

When 7:30 rolled around, the film was nearing its end and it was time for me to head downstairs to meet Dan Jones in the lobby. He arrived right on time, I brought him upstairs, and here queue twenty minutes of us sitting outside the event room watching the film through the glass door and just chatting?? He’s literally so chill and friendly and great to talk to? We talked about Star Wars a little and other movies? And I got to ask him a bunch of random questions about The Report I’ve been wondering. (Does he have sneaky cameos in the movie? Yes, he does. Would he ever work in government again? They’d have to drag him back kicking and screaming).

Once the film ended, our Director introduced Dan and he came in to much deserved applause. Our Director started Dan off with a few questions, then we opened up to what quickly became an incredibly engaged, thoughtful, and lively Q&A! A few external attendees were lawyers currently representing Guantanamo detainees, and their questions were among the best. Dan seemed to enjoy the discussion too - appearing much more in his element, in comparison to the Q&A environment/topics at TIFF.

We wrapped up the Q&A after about 45 minutes and that, ladies and gentlemen, was a wrap! Without a single technical snafu or delay!!! The event was incredibly well attended and so many people expressed gratitude to me on their way out. One woman who’s worked at our org for 30 years said it was the best event she’s ever been to! T_T

I couldn’t be more pleased with the evening! Especially considering how near to a breakdown I was this afternoon ;’) But everything literally went completely smoothly and exceeded all my expectations. I’m so glad I managed to actually bring this crazy idea to fruition, albeit with a few months of finagling and organizing. Seriously, couldn’t be happier. :’DD

Me and Dan Jones afterwards and yes I cropped out other people from my org because A) Kinda weird to post them? and B) I totally maybe have a crush on accomplished well-spoken humble funny incredibly chill Dan Jones???

(And Dan with Adam just because)

NOW I FINISH PACKING TO GO TO LONDON FOR TROS PREMIERE! AHHHHH LET’S GO and continue the crazy awesome whirlwind my life has been lately!!!! :’’D

(There was definitely a moment when I joked with Dan about maybe getting Adam’s autograph at the TROS premiere. Dan was like “oh haha are you like a superfan?” and I was immediately like “oh no haha nothing like that hahahahahaha” you know, like a liar. He might get to go to the CA premiere though so I hope he does! Then we can welcome him to the dark side of obsession! >:))